by Nancy Radke
“Sorry. I’m going to be tutoring at night... for at least the next month or so. And over the weekends.”
“Bummer! When’s your time off?”
“Days. Sometimes.”
“You aren’t going to miss taking me to the stock car races this month, are you? I’ve already asked my boss for time off that Sunday.”
“You’ve got a job?”
“Just for the summer... at a fast-food spot near home. I just started... haven’t been paid yet.”
“Well, I’ve got that Sunday circled on the calendar. I won’t forget.”
“So, why can’t you get a night free? At this rate, I’ll have my license before I see ‘The Slaughter of the Warriors.’”
Who came up with movie titles like that? A second-grader? She swallowed her revulsion; she had taken her brother to many mindless Class B films where the main purpose seemed to be how many bodies could be piled one on top the other. “What about Stan?”
“Him? He wouldn’t be caught dead taking his little brother to a movie. Besides, he never has any extra money.”
“I’m sorry, Bret. Why not take the bus?”
“A bus? No way. I don’t want to go... by myself.”
She glanced sideways at his face, sunk in disappointment. She didn’t want him to seek out someone like Todd and Ken again. “I guess it is no fun that way. If I get a night free, I’ll take you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Next morning she called her father, letting him know where Bret had been, and how he had called, scared. Her dad agreed that the experience might make Bret more careful in choosing his friends and promised to watch him closer. He ended by asking Ellen why her new job had kept her so late. Cautious, she kept the information to a minimum, as she had with Bret, finding Jared’s secret harder to keep than she had imagined.
Later she opened up her box of reading reference books and scanned the contents before she put each one on a shelf. There had to be an answer to Jared’s problem in some of them, but she was unable to spot it with such a quick read.
That afternoon she spent another session with Jared, happy to be working with him but frustrated that she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. This time they took a break on his exercise equipment and Ellen found them both able to do more because of the physical release from tension.
Saturday morning, Ellen woke up early and flung back the covers, eager to go sailing. She laid out her swimsuit, shirt, shorts and tennis shoes, then hopped into the shower.
The phone rang as she was drying her hair and she hesitated before picking it up. What if it was her mother? Ellen really didn’t want to be talked into doing something for her.
She was getting selfish. Besides, it could be Jared calling. She scooped the phone off its cradle.
“Hi, Ellen.” It was her sister, Kathy. “Joey’s sick with the flu and I’ve got to take Timmy to the doctor.”
Ellen knew what Kathy’s next words were going to be. “Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve made plans for today.”
“It’s at ten. Shouldn’t take long. You can go later, can’t you? I’d forgotten the appointment until just a minute ago. It’s too late to cancel. Please?” She strung the word out, making it half pleading, half whine.
“Well... I guess so,” Ellen said. Jared wasn’t expecting her until one, so there should be plenty of time.
“Good. Be here by 9:30, okay?”
“Okay.”
Ellen started her laundry, washed her few breakfast dishes, gave the floor a cursory sweep, and still made it to Kathy’s Lake Sammamish home on time.
Kathy swept the door open at her knock. “Hi, sis. I was worried you wouldn’t get here soon enough. You really shouldn’t cut it so close.”
Ellen stopped at the sight of the living room. It looked like an earthquake had shaken everything in sight and flung it upon the floor.
“What happened here?” she asked.
“School’s out. And instead of having just the two babies for my day care, I now have their three brothers and sisters. I agreed to take them this summer because I needed the extra money. They’re not here today, of course. You don’t mind picking up a little, do you?”
“Sure. No trouble.”
“Great. Joey’s in his bedroom and Mark’s playing next door at his friend’s.”
“Okay. Bye, Timmy,” she said to the five-year-old as he ran toward the door.
“Bye, Aunty Ellen. Are you a ‘pulsive house cleaner?”
Ellen didn’t know just how to take that comment. What had Kathy been saying? “I don’t know Timmy. Is that a tooth I see missing?”
He smiled even broader, displaying a small gap. He looked so cute in his T-shirt, shorts and sandals that Ellen reached down and gave him a hug. He was fresh from the bathtub and still had the clean scent of baby shampoo lingering in his hair. He threw his arms around her and hugged back, making her long for children of her own. Some as wonderful as Timmy.
As soon as Kathy left, Ellen straightened the sofa cushions. The house begged to be put in order. She decided to check on Joey first, then start cleaning up.
Upstairs, seven-year-old Joey was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his toys.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked.
“Oh, no.” He sniffed. “I’m not sick sick.”
She changed his sheets and threw them in the washer. He followed her around the house, watching as she cleaned up the kitchen, talking continually.
Later eight-year-old Mark popped in. “Hi, Aunt Ellen. What’s for lunch?”
She looked at the clock. It was almost noon. “I hadn’t figured on lunch. I thought your mom would be back.”
“Not ‘till two.”
“What?”
“She’s shopping.”
“Oh, no!”
“Something wrong?”
“I was going sailing at one.” Disappointment welled within her and she fought it down. “Are you sure, Mark? Your mom didn’t say anything about it when she left.”
“Sure I’m sure.”
She knew I had to go somewhere, thought Ellen. She even said it wouldn’t take long. “What’s the name of your doctor?”
“I dunno.”
“It’s got to be here somewhere. Your mom writes everything down.” She dug through the pile of papers near Kathy’s phone and found her personal phone numbers. “Is it Dr. Wallingly?”
“Uh huh.”
Ellen dialed, pacing the floor as she waited for someone to answer. The receptionist cheerfully told her what she didn’t want to hear. “Kathy Soroco? She left here two hours ago.”
“Thank you,” Ellen said and hung up. Hurt and angry, she sat down at the table and propped her chin on her hands, wondering why Kathy did these kinds of things to her. Sighing, she decided she had better call Jared and let him know she wouldn’t be able to make it until two or later.
But by two o’clock Kathy still hadn’t returned and Ellen felt ready to cry. She had finished the laundry and started in on the living room. The boys were fed and the kitchen cleaned. She sent them both outside to play in the backyard while she vacuumed the carpet.
At two-thirty she called Jared again. She hated making anyone wait for her. More than that, she hated missing her boat ride with him.
“Kathy’s not back yet,” she said. “I don’t want you to waste your time on such a beautiful day. Why don’t you go ahead without me?”
“What happened? Should we worry about her?”
“No. She’s gone shopping.”
“Shopping? I thought she asked you to baby-sit while she took your nephew to the doctor.”
“She did.” Ellen didn’t add that Kathy had done this before. Those other times hadn’t mattered.
“I don’t mind waiting,” he said. “We can sail after she gets back. Tell you what... I’ll work outside and take my cell phone with me. You call when you can come.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s the number. Use it anytime.”
&n
bsp; Ellen wrote it down. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Great.”
Kathy didn’t return until 5:30. “Oh good,” she said as she pushed open the door, her arms laden with bags. “You swept the floor.”
Ellen was so upset she spoke sharply. “Why were you gone all day?”
“I had to get some summer clothes for myself. It’s so much easier shopping with one kid instead of three. And I ran out of gas. That took another hour. Did you get the upstairs done?”
“Yes.”
Kathy sniffed the air, tainted with heavy smoke and the faint scent of furniture polish. “What burned?”
“The boys wanted to make cookies. They forgot to set the timer for the last batch. I’m afraid the kitchen looks worse than when you left it.”
“Oh, no. Why did you let them do that? I hate to face a mess after a day’s shopping.”
“It seemed like a good way to keep them busy.”
“Well, I suppose then; okay.” Opening a bag, Kathy held up a pair of white pumps. “Look at these. I got them at the Mall. Have you been lately?”
“No. I haven’t had time.”
“You’re on vacation. You have all the time in the world.”
“I tutor, Kathy. That takes up most of my day.”
“Even in summer?”
“Yes. And I told you I had plans today.”
“Oh,” said Kathy. “I forgot. You did say— Well, I’m sorry. You’ve never minded before.” She managed to make it sound like Ellen’s fault.
“I did, this time. You should have at least called. I couldn’t get hold of you. It... it just wasn’t fair.”
“Well excuse me. You didn’t tell me you had to leave early. I’m not a mind reader. Next time I’ll try to let you know.” Kathy glanced into the kitchen. “Ugh. How about staying for dinner?”
“No. I really have things to do. I have to go home and change.” ...and call Jared.
She was halfway out the door when the phone rang. Kathy ran over to answer it while Ellen said “good bye” to the boys.
“It’s for you. It’s Mom,” Kathy said, motioning her over.
“Why call here?”
“I told her you’d be taking care of the kids today.”
Ellen walked over and picked up the phone. “Yes?”
“I’m so glad I caught you, Ellen. I’m desperate. I started to give myself a perm. I got my front and sides on rollers, but can’t do the back. My hands stiffened up on me.”
“But I’ve made other plans.”
“You have to come. I was beginning to panic when I couldn’t get you at your place.”
As the pressure built, Ellen wanted to rebel against the incessant demands of her family. Why didn’t they ask someone else to help? “Can’t we wait until another day?”
“I’ve got the bottles open and the lotion poured out. It won’t last. You know that.”
Ellen knew defeat when she faced it. “I’ll be right there.” She hung up, waved to Kathy and the kids and drove as fast as possible to her parent’s home.
Her mother wanted a long chat as well as the perm, and Ellen was in near tears when she left their house at ten o’clock. She used to like being needed by everyone in her family, but lately it was beginning to wear her down. Their demands had made it too late for a boat ride. Worse, Jared had wasted a day, waiting. He probably regretted asking her. He would never ask her again.
She drove home quickly, put her laundry into the dryer and made a hot cup of tea. She had just turned on the TV to watch the eleven o’clock news when Jared called.
“Ellen. What happened?” He sounded more worried than upset.
She choked back a sob, tears underlining a sudden feeling of loss. She had to pause a moment to gain control before she detailed the day. “Lastly, my mother was in the middle of giving herself a perm. She needed my help.”
“Didn’t you tell her you were going sailing?”
“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to make her feel guilty.”
“Doesn’t she have someone else to ask?”
“Not that I know of. I’ve always helped her.” She paused, fighting self-pity. “I’m sorry, Jared. I really wanted to go.”
“Then let’s go.”
“It’s... it’s too late, isn’t it?”
“Not for me. Besides, I have to pay my bet.”
“But—”
“You can sleep in tomorrow, while I get ready for my show.”
“But... but it’s dark out.”
“Don’t you want to come?”
His voice tightened and she suddenly realized how her protests must sound. Instead of giving him a gracious out, she was making him think she was giving excuses.
“I’d love to come. I just thought—”
“You can’t believe the moonlight on the water. Come and share it with me.” His voice enticed her.
Sunshine flooded her day once more, while silent tears of joy flowed down her face in a release of emotion. Jared was unbelievable. “You make it sound like a lot of fun.”
“It is. When can I expect you? I’m looking forward to sailing tonight.”
“You never went out?”
“No. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Bring a jacket; there’s a light breeze, so it’ll be cool on the water.”
Ellen sprang up, fixed her face, and changed her clothes. He still wanted her to go with him. He had actually waited for her! No one had ever waited for her like this, except perhaps her father.
Energized by Jared’s thoughtfulness, she dashed out to her car and drove southward in the last of the twilight. She had to watch her speed since she kept pressing on the gas, anxious to arrive. She made it to his house in under fifteen minutes.
He was standing at the top of the drive, and gave the hood of her car a pat as she pulled up. “Let’s go,” he exclaimed, throwing open her door.
*7*
When Ellen smiled back at him, Jared felt his frustration finally lift. He had been worried that her family’s intervention was just an excuse, that she hadn’t really wanted to come with him and had been looking for a way out. After all, all she had to do was tell them she had other plans. They would have understood.
He had half-expected a call from her, informing him she couldn’t come for some reason or other. But she was here now, with him, and he forgot the long day he’d spent, inventing small jobs to keep him busy. He fairly bounced down to the dock, making her run to keep up.
“Here she is,” he said, his voice filled with pride.
Ellen joined him beside the Sea Sprite. “It’s so small,” she said.
Was she expecting a big yacht? Jared’s initial eagerness dropped sharply. Was she already regretting coming with him?
He reached down to hold the sloop steady for her. “Well, yes. It’s a Petrel. I’ve had it ever since I was a kid. It’s all we need. Hop in.”
She did, her inexperience showing by the stiff movements of her body as she hesitated, then got aboard. “Whoops.” She sat down quickly on the bench seat as the boat rocked. “It’s fine, really. I just expected something larger from a yacht builder.”
She sounded apologetic. Perhaps she was. Jared hoped so. For some reason, it was very important for her to like the little sloop. He had never taken any other woman out in the Sea Sprite. Maybe Ellen was afraid. Some people didn’t feel safe without a large craft supporting them.
“Anyone can drive a motor boat,” he informed her. “To handle a sailboat takes skill.”
“Can I help?”
“You don’t need to; I can sail this by myself.”
Releasing the line, he stepped down into the sloop and balanced himself against the motion. He felt safer here than in a motor-driven yacht. More at home with the water and the wind.
She doesn’t have to love sailing, just because you do, he told himself as he pushed them away from the dock, turning the boat into the wind. He coiled the line as
the Sea Sprite bobbed and nodded its way out into Lake Washington.
“Let me do something,” Ellen said. “I feel useless just sitting here.” He watched her glance nervously from side to side as she leaned forward, white-knuckled hands on the cockpit coaning, then tried to stand while still holding on.
“Whoa there,” he said, as the boat rocked unevenly, upsetting his balance. “The object is to stay inside the boat.”
She sat, quickly, still hanging on. “Shouldn’t you be sitting, too?”
“I have to raise the sail.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.”
“Don’t worry. I learned to sail in a Laser, and they are much more unstable.” He stood quietly, absorbing the motion with his knees, letting the boat settle down to a gentle rocking. “It’s a calm night with just enough breeze to give us a good trip. Do you want a life jacket? The float belt is much more comfortable than a jacket.” He handed her one while putting on the other.
“Thanks.” She put the belt around her. “I can swim.”
“I don’t plan for either of us to have to swim,” he said, dropping the centerboard and making sure it was settled in place. The little boat steadied perceptively and he stood up again. He stared down at her face, wanting to ease the concern there. She’d feel better once the sail was up, the boat moving.
She was in his way at the moment; he had to move her.
“Uh...you need to sit over there.” She moved to where he pointed, keeping her body low as she shifted positions.
“That’s better.” It would also place her beside him while he steered. He stepped past her to the mast, reached down and flipped a switch. A small light appeared on top.
“Running lights and everything,” she said, smiling.
“It was one of my first purchases. I wanted to sail at night, as well as day.”
He pulled the running knot which tied down the sail, then raised it, the large sheet fluttering like a bird set free, eager to ride the wind.
Next he released the jib, checked that everything was functioning properly, then sat down between her and the tiller as the sloop quivered, ready to go. “Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t feel that way to him. Her shoulder and thigh touching him stayed tense, and she kept watching the flapping sails as if uncertain what they would do next. “The sail will always return to this position as long as the tiller is free,” he explained, trying to assuage her fears. “The boat won’t move—except to drift—until I start to steer.”