"Who told you that?"
"Cary," he replied slyly.
"He's been here?"
"Often, lately. I've decided to hire him to build me that sailboat," he said.
"Really, Kenneth?"
"Really."
"That's wonderful. He must be so excited!"
"He's got some good ideas. In his own way, he's a very creative young man, and, he's crazy about you."
"I know," I said blushing.
"What's Her Highness think of it?"
"Forbids the thought," I said.
"Hmm. What are you going to do? She rules with an iron hand," he warned. "And when she brings it down, she usually smothers the victim like an ant."
"She's hard, but we've come to a bit of a truce these days. She hasn't had much to complain about. I'm doing well in school. I'm Miss Burton's favorite pupil, and I listen attentively to Grandma Olivia's nightly lectures about people, responsibility, the importance of family, family, family," I added in a pretend deep voice. Kenneth laughed.
"You little devil. You're humoring her to death, aren't you?" he asked.
"I'm being . . . diplomatic," I said and he laughed harder. We heard a horn and turned to see Cary bouncing down the beach road in his truck.
"Here comes my sailboat engineer," Kenneth said. "I wonder if he's come to see me about it or if there's been some diplomatic maneuvering here for a rendezvous," he teased. My cheeks turned crimson. He laughed and we started toward the house.
"Cary Logan," I cried as we approached him, "why didn't you tell me about the sailboat you're building for Kenneth?" I stood with my hands on my hips. Cary looked at Kenneth, who wore a wide grin.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," he said, shifting the rolled up papers he carried under his arm. "I've got the plans completed, Kenneth," he said.
"All right. Let's spread them out on the table in the studio and study them. I bought some Portuguese bread this morning and your favorite cheese, Melody," he told me.
"Is that a hint to make everyone a sandwich?" I asked suspiciously.
"Now I see," Kenneth said to Cary, "that she is just as quick as you said she was."
Cary roared as the two of them went in to the studio. I joined them fifteen minutes later with our sandwiches and some lemonade. Cary's sailboat plans were on the table and I thought they looked very impressive and professional.
"It looks huge," I remarked.
"Six thousand eight hundred thirty-four pounds with a twenty-nine-and-a-half-foot deck. The cabin will hold up to six people comfortably," Cary said. "You see it has a relatively long waterline, which gives us optimal volume and at the same time favors speed. This double-chine hull with a flat-bottom plate gets us quick immersion of the upper--"
"Cary, you're losing her," Kenneth gently pointed out.
"What? Oh. Sorry," he said.
"I think you might safely say he's got a passion for this," Kenneth remarked.
"It looks . . . beautiful," I said lamely.
"Well I'm sure you can understand this," Cary said, refusing to give up on me. "It's very roomy and has a lot of storage space. Starting at the bow here, there is a chain locker followed by a double berth. There's a twenty-five gallon fresh water tank, storage under the seats, and behind the seats there are lockers and a bookcase. Here's the folding table hinged on the center board case. The hull is built upside down on a framework made from the bulkheads. No temporary molds means no waste."
"Sold," Kenneth said. "Now, can we please eat?"
Cary looked up from the plans, first at Kenneth and then at me and then he smiled.
"Sure," he said. "I'm starving."
Later, when we were alone on the beach, I pretended to be still upset that he had kept all this a secret.
"I just wanted to surprise you," he protested. "Besides," he added sotto voce, "I couldn't be sure Kenneth was serious. You know how erratic he's been these days. I know he's serious now though. He's put the money up for the plans and given me the green light to start. I'll be building the boat here," he said.
"What about the lobster business?"
"I'm making a deal with Roy Patterson, giving him more responsibility and more of the income. I talked it over with Ma, but she doesn't really understand what I'm trying to do and naturally she's afraid for us. I hope I'm doing the right thing," he added. "I just feel like this is my chance. Once I build one boat and others see it . . ."
"You'll do well, Cary. I'm sure you will."
He nodded with a weak smile.
"I hope so. I know if Dad were alive, he'd be furious about it."
"He never wanted to do anything differently, Cary. It wasn't in him to change, but you're creative and you heard Kenneth say you have a passion for it. If anyone knows about being passionate over something creative, it's Kenneth. In the end you'll make us all proud of you."
"I hope, but for the time being, maybe it would be better if you didn't mention anything about it to Grandma Olivia," he said.
"I don't mention anything about you in front of her and she never asks me anything. It's part of the truce that's fallen between us these days," I said.
He smiled, grateful for that.
"Well, since I'll be here most of the time now, maybe you and I can see more of each other and--"
"I'll stop by as often as I can and bring May, too."
"Kenneth's going to Boston this weekend," Cary said quickly. "He told me it would be all right for me to use his place, if I want."
We stared at each other a moment.
"I can't get away overnight, Cary. She would have the dogs at my heels," I said.
"It doesn't have to be overnight, but we could have dinner here and just for one day maybe, feel like we were . . . you know . . together."
I thought about it. Somehow, lying to Grandma Olivia didn't seem to be such a bad thing.
"I have an idea. I'll talk to Theresa tomorrow. She'll cover for me," I promised. Cary brightened with hope and we kissed. The wind swept through our hair and the ocean spray sprinkled our faces. It made me feel fresh and alive.
Cary insisted I put my bike in the back of his truck so he could drive me most of the way home. I rode the last mile and a half on my bike. When I arrived, I saw that Judge Childs was visiting with Grandma Olivia. He had been coming over more often since Grandpa Samuel had been taken to the home. The two of them usually spent their time sipping sherry in the gazebo. Often, the Judge stayed for dinner.
I hadn't yet paid him the visit he expected. I didn't want to talk about Mommy. It was too painful to think about her. Since I had returned from California, she hadn't phoned or written. It was still difficult to accept the fact that she wanted to be out of my life forever. Sometimes I would walk past the cemetery and see the stone with her name on it. Once, I even stopped to pay my respects to the poor anonymous soul who had been made to take Mommy's coffin and grave. In my secret put-away heart, I mourned for her the way I mourned for myself, imagining her wishing to be with her own people, whoever and wherever they might be.
Maybe she was, I thought. Maybe being next to the bones of your loved ones wasn't what mattered. Perhaps there was something stronger that bound us after death, some linking of the soul that would someday find me greeting Papa George, my stepdaddy and whoever else I loved and who loved me.
The week after I met Cary at Kenneth's I talked to Theresa in the cafeteria during lunch, planning a way for me to spend most of the following Saturday and Saturday night with Cary at Kenneth's house. With midterms coming up, it was easy to claim we would be studying together. What I wasn't prepared for was Grandma Olivia's reaction to my choice of friends. The way she glared at me when I told my story made me feel she had seen right through the subterfuge, but her irritation was drawn from a more polluted well.
"Patterson? Is that the same Patterson who works for Cary? The Brava?"
"Yes, her father is Roy Patterson."
"That's the best you can do? The best friendship you can form at school?
What about the Rudolph's daughter or Mark and Carol Parker's daughter? Isn't Betty Hargate, the accountant's daughter, in your class also?"
"I don't get along as well with those girls and they are nowhere near the student Theresa is, despite her being what you call a Brava. I not ashamed of my friendship with her; I'm proud of it."
"I see I'm not getting you out of this town fast enough," she replied.
"I'm not moving in with the Pattersons, Grandma Olivia. I'm merely preparing study sheets. You want me to be the valedictorian, don't you?" She raised her eyebrows, considering. "There's no mother in that house."
"Her father will be home and you know he's a nice man, a hardworking man."
"You intend to eat dinner with them?" she asked, as if I were going to eat with Aborigines.
"I ate there often last year," I said, "before I realized I was so important."
"Don't be impudent. Very well," she said after another thoughtful pause, "Raymond will take you and pick you up promptly at nine P.M."
"It's Saturday night!" I protested.
"Ten then," she said relenting a bit.
"No one else in my class lives under such strict rules," I complained.
"No one else has your destiny and
responsibility," she replied dryly. "Let's not have these silly discussions."
I retreated, feeling I had won as much as I could from her at the moment. When I told Cary, he was ecstatic.
"I'll bring some lobsters and clams for dinner," he said. "We'll have May with us for a while, but I'll take her home in the afternoon."
"That's fine, Cary."
"She wants to know if she can bike out to Kenneth's with you one day. I explained how dangerous it is for her to go on the road by herself. She can't hear cars and trucks."
"I'll come by and get her one day. We'll be all right."
"It'll be a real treat for her," he said. "I haven't been able to do much for her these days and with Ma the way she is . . ."
"It's no problem, Cary. I want to do it," I assured him.
The next day Theresa and I made our final plans at school. The first time I met Theresa I thought she was a very serious girl, pretty but dour to the point of being angry. Since I was new in school, the principal asked her to show me around. We got off to a bad start because she assumed I would look down on her the way other so-called blue bloods did.
I thought she was one of the prettiest girls in the school, with her caramel complexion, black pearl eyes and ebony hair. After she realized I wasn't like the others, she permitted me to get closer to her and we quickly became good friends.
Theresa enjoyed the idea that we were conspiring against my grandmother. She thought of her just as most others did, The Iron Lady, Queen of Snob Hill.
"If she calls for you on the phone, I'll have my mother say we went to the library. Don't worry about my father. He won't ask questions. Since my mother died, he treats me like an adult. Are you going to spend the whole night with Cary?" she asked, her eyes bright with interest.
"No, I have to be back at your house before ten. That's when Grandma Olivia is sending Raymond to pick me up."
"Bummer," she moaned for me. "But, at least you'll have some time alone."
"Theresa Patterson, just hear you," I teased and we laughed. Everyone in the cafeteria gazed at us with jealousy, wondering what delicious secret we shared. Our sealed lips only stirred their curiosity more.
When Saturday came, I was so nervous I was positive Grandma Olivia would become suspicious, but she was preoccupied with a dinner party she was having for Congressman Dunlap and two of his legal aides. The only thing she said that put butterflies in my stomach was that she was sorry I wasn't going to be at the dinner.
"It's important for you to meet important people now," she declared. I thought she would insist I attend the dinner, but she hesitated and added, "but being named class valedictorian is important too. You'll be the first Logan to do so."
The tone of her voice was explicit: Don't fail to do it. Shaking when I got into the limousine, I took deep breaths and tried to calm down all the way to Theresa's.
As soon as Raymond dropped me off and left, Theresa gave me her bike and I started for the beach. Cary and May were already there, Cary working on the boat. He looked like Adonis, shirtless, his muscles glimmering in the sunlight.
"I was afraid you weren't coming," he said as I walked Theresa's bike over the sandy part of the road. May came running to me. We hugged and I looked at Cary. Neither of us had to say much to each other; it was all in our eyes.
I spent most of the afternoon with May, walking along the beach, searching for shells, telling her about school. She wanted to know more about boys. If any girl needed a big sister, it was May. Aunt Sara wasn't very comfortable explaining things to her. Sex, love and romance embarrassed her. I was the one who had explained what a menstrual cycle was, what changes would happen to her body, what her feelings would be like. Once, we had a long talk about what it meant to fall in love and she told me about a classmate she liked, a boy who had kissed her. Apparently, since I had been away, she had learned much more from her girlfriends at school, for when she looked at Cary and me and the way we spoke, touched and looked at each other, she smiled at us knowingly.
While Cary was bringing May home, I prepared our dinner and set the table. Constantly aware of my curfew, we savored the hours and minutes we had. I waited in front of the beach house, watching the twilight flood the sky with its rosy farewell to the day, flaming the clouds crimson, streaking violet shot through with saffron. Cary returned in the quickest time ever, his truck bouncing hard over the beach ruts.
"Everything's almost ready," I said when he hopped out of his truck and followed me into the house.
"Looks great," he said, but his eyes never left my face. Every time I turned, every time I lifted my gaze from the pots and dishes, I found him staring at me hungrily. My body filled with an ache, a hunger for his lips and his touch. Perhaps it was because we were so far from anyone, alone, in a domestic setting, behaving like married people, whatever the reason, I never felt more desire and passion for him than I did that night. We could barely eat, neither of us saying very much.
Cary leaped out of his seat at the end of the meal to help me clean up. Everything we did seemed designed to keep us under control. It was as if we both understood that the minute we were free of any other distraction, the moment we turned to each other, we would be in danger of consuming each other. Finally, I dried the last dish.
He stood back, gazing at me.
"Melody," he said softly and held out his hand. I took it and he led me out to the guest bedroom. Next to the bed, we kissed and held each other tightly. "I love you," he said.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and nodded. "I love you, too, Cary. Very much."
I kept my eyes closed as his fingers undid the buttons of my blouse. In fact, I stood there, unmoving, waiting as he peeled my blouse down my arms, undid my skirt and drew it below my knees, lifting my leg gently for me to step out of it. Then he kissed my shoulders, my neck and undid my bra, drawing it from me while at the same time, he brought his lips to my nipples and nudged my breasts with his cheeks. My heart pounded hot blood through my body. When his hands lifted from my breasts or my shoulders, I cried out for their return.
Gently, almost in inches, he slipped my panties off. Naked, I stood before him, my eyes locked on his.
"Kenneth couldn't come close to portraying your beauty," he said. "Even if he worked every day for the rest of his life."
I smiled and he undressed himself. Moments later, we were in bed, embracing, moving our arms, our legs, turning ourselves to each other, drawing each other deeper and deeper into each other with every kiss, every touch.
"Are you ready, Cary?" I asked, breathing my last bit of caution before my thundering heart closed down all avenues of thought and left me longing only for him inside me, making us feel like one.
"Yes," he said with a smile. "Pr
otected."
I felt myself being drawn up higher and higher, dangled above the earth, exquisitely tormented by the danger and the sense of abandon. Our moans mingled until each was indistinguishable from the other. I dug my fingers into his shoulders to hold on and to keep him close. We came at each other like the lovestarved people we were; desperate for a loving touch, a longing word.
When it was over, we collapsed in a delightful exhaustion, both gasping for breath, neither able to speak. I took his hand and put it over my heart.
"Feel this pounding," I said, shakily. "It's scary, but wonderful."
"Mine's the same way."
"If we died here together, Grandma Olivia would be very upset," I said and he laughed.
"She'd have everyone involved sworn to secrecy and then she'd have us buried at sea."
"But she wouldn't cancel her dinner party that night," I added.
He laughed and turned to embrace me. We lay there, holding each other, whispering sweet promises, dreaming, constructing our wonderful fantasies, weaving a cocoon of dreams tightly around ourselves. After a while, we stopped and dozed, which almost proved fatal, for when my eyes snapped open, it was nearly nine-thirty.
"Cary!"
I sat up, shaking him to wake him.
"Whaa ."
"Hurry, get dressed. Raymond will be at Theresa's before you get me back!"
We both leaped off of the bed and threw on our clothes. We got into the truck and for a few frantic beats it wouldn't start. The engine groaned and groaned.
"Cary!"
"It's okay. Just give me a second," he said. He hopped out and opened the hood, fidgeting.
"Hurry, Cary. She'll make so much trouble for you and your mother if she finds out about us."
He jiggled wires near the battery and tried again, and, thankfully, this time the engine started with a sputter. Then we shot off, bouncing so hard over the beach road, my head nearly hit the roof of the truck cab. Once on the street, he burned rubber until we arrived at Theresa's, just minutes before Raymond and the limousine. I didn't even have a chance to kiss Cary good night. Instead, I jumped out and ran to the house, where Theresa was waiting anxiously.
"You're cutting it kind of close, aren't you?" she remarked with a smile.
Logan 03 Unfinished Symphony Page 25