Dockside

by Susan Wiggs

  Part Ten

  Then

  The town of Avalon is known for its civic pride, which is rooted deep in its history. When the nearby city of Kingston was burned by British troops during the American Revolution, Avalon opened its gates to the fleeing refugees, offering a safe haven from the invaders. Today, visitors are more likely to find their heroes at the ball fields.

  “Since baseball time is measured only in outs,” Roger Angell once wrote in the New Yorker, “all you have to do is succeed utterly; keep hitting, keep the rally alive, and you have defeated time. You remain forever young.”

  Twenty-One

  “M ayor Romano?”

  The secretary’s voice crackled from the intercom speaker on Nina’s desk. Nina almost jumped out of her skin, not because there was anything scary about the voice, but because she’d been immersed deep in concentration. The latest audit of city finances was not a pretty sight, and it was driving her crazy, because she and the city council had done everything they could think of to improve the bottom line. Somewhere, there was a leak, and no one could seem to find it. By the middle of her term as mayor, she had discovered innumerable ways for things to go wrong.

  She took a deep breath to clear her head, then depressed the intercom button. “Yes, Gayle?”

  “You have a visitor—your father.”

  “Oh!” Nina shot up, primping her hair. “Send him in.”

  Seconds later, the door swung open, and there was Pop. “I’m kind of early,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  She closed the spreadsheet program on her computer. “I don’t mind. I just need to grab a couple of things,” she said, hastily stuffing some printed reports and correspondence into a huge wicker tote bag. Then she flipped open a compact, checked her hair. Some of her detractors had dubbed her Avalon’s “hippie” mayor, which was a complete crock, but it made her hypersensitive about the way she dressed and wore her hair. She hadn’t met Dino Carminucci in person yet and didn’t know what he was expecting. She’d opted for a knee-length beige dress and low-heeled pumps. No one who wore pumps could be called a hippie. “Do I look okay?” she asked her father.

  He gave her the ear-to-ear smile that had won over students at Avalon High for the past thirty years. “You look like a million bucks. I couldn’t be prouder.”

  “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that to me, Pop.”

  “What, that I’m proud? Are you kidding? I’m proud of all my kids. You, especially. You and Sonnet both. Maybe I don’t tell you every day, but there you go. I’m proud. I always have been.”

  “Thanks. I’m just feeling a bit nervous about the meeting today. This is a huge commitment for the city to make. A huge risk.”

  “Since when are you afraid of risk and commitment?” he asked.

  “Since I’ve been in charge of a whole city, that’s when.”

  “There’s a reason you’re in charge. People trust you.”

  True, that was her reputation. She was Nina the doer. Nina the reliable one. Nina the little engine that could. Nobody knew about the other Nina, the one who sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, her heart aching for something she’d never had.

  They walked out of city hall and got in her father’s car. It was a silver Prius hybrid, which he’d bought when the twins went away to college. “My empty-nest-mobile,” he told Nina as she put on her seat belt. “Man, I couldn’t wait to get a car that didn’t look like an airport shuttle.”

  “So how do you like it?” she asked.

  “It’s a funny thing. I like it all right, but the empty nest, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I miss my crazy, loud houseful of kids.”

  She nodded. Now that Sonnet was zooming through high school, on track for early graduation, Nina could relate to his feelings. Much as she was looking forward to a new phase of her life after Sonnet left home, she was also bracing herself for a kind of loneliness she’d never felt before.

  The meeting was going to take place at the Apple Tree Inn, a riverside B&B near Avalon’s much-photographed covered bridge. Mr. Carminucci was staying there. She wished she could recommend the Inn at Willow Lake to visitors, but that place, though close to her heart, had seen better days.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” her father said. “Haven’t seen Dino since we were in college.” That was the way deals like this worked, Nina had learned. They were all about connections and past relationships.

  “You know,” she said, “when I took office, I had all these big plans and goals for the city. I had no idea how hard it was to get something done, even the smallest step. I kept thinking that once I get my shot, everything will fall into place. I was determined to turn Avalon into the best little town in Ulster County. In the whole state. What if my only legacy as mayor is that I brought a baseball team to town?”

  “You kidding?” Her father regarded her with raised eyebrows. “It’s huge, and you know it. You pull this off, and people will always remember you for turning this place into a baseball town.” He held open the door for her. “Just remember, win or lose, I meant what I said earlier, girlie. I couldn’t be prouder.”

  As she stepped into the beautiful—but overdecorated—salon of the Apple Tree Inn, Nina felt just a pinch of regret.

  Something must have showed on her face. “What’s the matter?” her father asked.

  He knew her well. “I do like being mayor,” she said. “I love this town and I don’t mind working for it. But deep down, I always pictured myself working in a place like this.”

  “You’re not going to be mayor forever,” he reminded her.

  “But I am for the time being,” she said, fixing a smile on her face. “Come on, Pop. Introduce me to your friend.”

  Part Eleven

  Now

  You won’t find any conventions going on at the Inn at Willow Lake. You won’t find anything that interferes with the tranquility and comfort of the guests. What you will find is a warm welcome, a quiet place to reflect, a beautiful spot to renew a bond with someone you love and memories to last a lifetime. See you down at the dock….

  Twenty-Two

  G reg was with Daisy and Max, standing at the edge of the lake, just after sundown. They’d walked down, hoping for a breeze off the water, but the night was still. And hot, probably the hottest night of the year. Daisy was focusing her small, portable telescope, trying to get an image of the surface of the moon. Max was throwing stones, trying to skip one after the other. They dropped into the water with a deep gulping sound.

  There were moments, like now, when Greg didn’t know what to say to his kids, how to talk to them. When he asked them how they were doing, they gave him pat answers that revealed nothing. Daisy was understandably tense and short-tempered. Max hadn’t been himself ever since he got back from visiting his mother. Greg didn’t blame Sophie for the boy’s mood, though. Max had been having a hard time all summer.

  Stooping down, he picked up more stones to throw. “I like it better at Camp Kioga,” he said. “Remember last summer, when we slept in the cabins and had bonfires?”

  “You did nothing but whine last summer,” Daisy reminded him. “You kept wanting your Xbox—”

  “And you were whining about no cell phone signal.”

  “And here’s a shock,” Greg put in, “the world didn’t come to an end. Let’s make a fire on the beach.”

  “It’s too hot for a fire. It’s too hot for anything.”

  “We could go swimming,” Greg said.

  “Yeah, if Shamu here goes in the lake, it’ll probably cause a flood.” Max snickered.

  “Shut up, moron.”

  “You shut up.”

  “You—”

  “How about this? How about we go get something cold to drink? I’ll teach you to play Texas Hold ’Em.”

  They didn’t exactly bowl him over with their enthusiasm, but they agreed to give it a shot. The three of them sat around a wicker table on the front porch with a fan blowing softly. Daisy playe
d a few hands, clearly already familiar with the game, but she started yawning and shifting in her seat.

  “You all right?” Greg asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “And you don’t need to ask me that every five minutes.”

  “Sorry.” He reminded himself not to take her testiness personally.

  “It’s all right. I’m tired, though. I’m going to bed,” Daisy said.

  “We’re still playing,” Max objected. “It’ll be boring with just two players.”

  Daisy gestured in the direction of the boathouse. “Go get Nina. I bet she’d play.” Her mood had suddenly swung to bright and cheerful.

  Greg shook his head. In fact, he’d like nothing better than to go get Nina, but he was determined to keep his distance.

  “I like Nina,” Daisy went on, still cheerful enough that Greg wondered what she was getting at. “I think it’s awesome that she’s managing the inn. She’s being totally cool about working here, all things considered.”

  “What things considered?” asked Greg.

  “Well, what with her wanting to own the place—” She stopped, studied him for a second. “You didn’t know? Sonnet told me ages ago, so I just assumed…Dad, you didn’t know? It was always this big plan she had, for when Sonnet went to college and Nina finished her term being mayor.”

  Finally, Greg understood why Nina had been so furious with him. No wonder.

  “I like her, too,” Max said, making little stacks of his poker chips. “Especially after today.”

  “What happened today?”

  Max continued stacking the chips, concentrating hard on making the ridged edges match up precisely. “I quit the team,” he said. “No more Little League for me.”

  Hot. A wave of heat arrived in late summer, like the final push of an army before surrender. Temperatures hovered in the nineties, which was fairly unbearable around Avalon. It was Nina’s night off, but she didn’t have any plans. Her house was a mess, but she didn’t feel like cleaning it. She’d always been a reluctant housekeeper. Now that Sonnet was gone, Nina had unleashed her inner slob. When the weather was this hot, no one should have to do housework.

  She was restless and sweaty. Even with the windows open and fans blowing, the place was stifling. She fixed herself a bowl of cereal and stood out on the deck, watching the stars hover in the summer sky. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore, so she put on a bathing suit and went for a swim, all by herself, in the dark. As she sank beneath the surface, she thought about how a dip in the lake on a summer night used to feel when she was younger—cool and liberating and vaguely illicit. She floated on her back and looked up at the stars.

  Once again, she was alone. She liked being alone. She didn’t have to be if she didn’t want. She had options. Bo Crutcher, the Hornets’ star pitcher, had invited her on a date tonight. Well, he hadn’t called it a date, but he’d asked her if she wanted to go to the Hilltop Tavern later. Bo was fun—maybe too much fun—and for a moment Nina had been tempted. Lord knew, he was attractive enough, tall and athletic and dripping with Texas charm, drinking beer after beer until he was mellow and prone to saying romantic things he didn’t mean. It wouldn’t be fair to him, though. She’d be lousy company, because try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about Greg Bellamy.

  Telling herself to snap out of it, she dove beneath the surface and came up for air. She lingered in the chilly water, studying the way the moon’s reflection painted a long, silvery path upon the water. And the bone-deep sense of loneliness made her change her mind—maybe she would go to the Hilltop Tavern after all, shoot some pool or throw some darts. Determined to shake off her mood, she went upstairs and quickly showered, singing along with the radio. She’d just twisted a towel on her head when she heard a knock at the door.

  Muttering a curse, she pulled on a Hornets jersey and dug in a drawer for a pair of undies. No luck—all her underwear was in the laundry basket in the living room, waiting to be folded and put away. The knock sounded again, loud and urgent. Grabbing a pair of cutoffs, she opted to go commando.

  As she walked through the house, she frowned at the clutter. Her inner slob hadn’t been expecting company. There was a basket of half-folded laundry, a sinkful of dishes she hadn’t yet tackled, a stack of unopened mail, dust bunnies scattering in the wake of her bare feet. Holding the turban on her head with one hand, she flipped on the porch light with the other. On the opposite side of the screen door stood Greg Bellamy.

  “I just had an interesting talk with my kids,” he said, and his tone was not particularly polite. “Can I come in?”

  Nina froze. Ordinarily the sight of a guy who looked like this, asking to come in, occurred only in the realm of fantasy, especially since she’d all but given up on dating. At first she’d tried blaming it on Greg but ultimately—and only to herself—she conceded that going out with other guys wasn’t working for her.

  So here was Greg, who made dating everyone else so pointless, asking to come in.

  Without a word, she stepped aside, held the door and then closed it behind him.

  “I don’t suppose it occurred to you to check with me before telling Max to quit his team and go to work for the Hornets,” Greg said.

  Oh. Oops. “Nope,” she admitted. She didn’t think she’d actually told Max to quit—but she hadn’t told him not to, either.

  “He’s not even your kid.”

  “I think maybe I was aware of that. And you’re right, Greg. I should have checked with you—or better yet, let you handle the situation.” The expression on his face made her smile; she couldn’t help herself. “What, did you think I was going to get defensive on you?”

  “Well, yeah. Yeah, I did.”

  She didn’t tell him that Max had misled her deliberately into thinking Greg already knew about the situation. That was something Max would need to address with Greg. “I don’t get defensive when I know I’m wrong,” she explained. “I’m not making excuses for myself, but the fact is, I never had a partner in raising a child. I got used to making decisions on my own. The notion of consulting with someone else—this whole partnership thing—is an alien concept to me.”

  “We’re business partners. When it comes to the inn, it’s all fair game. But when it comes to my kids—”

  “Back off?” She bit her lip. There was so much she could say, so much she saw when she looked at Greg and his kids…. The thing she feared was happening. She was being drawn to this family. Not just to Greg but to Max and Daisy, too. Not your business, she reminded herself. “All right,” she said. “I’ll back off.”

  He seemed surprised by her concession. “Uh, okay.”

  “But I need a little clarification here. Which is it, Greg? When it comes to your kids, do you want my opinion or not? Or only when it’s convenient for you?”

  “Hey, I didn’t ask—”

  “Yes,” she said, “you did ask. Maybe not about Max’s Little League team, but about other things, and you know it.” She unfurled the towel from her head, furtively studying him. Despite the heat, he looked perfectly comfortable in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Why did he have to be so damn…so…everything? She tried not to feel self-conscious about her place. It was hard, though, not to wish she’d taken a few minutes to do the dishes, straighten the stack of half-read books on the coffee table, fold the clothes she’d taken out of the dryer—oops—two days ago.

  Yet Greg stayed focused on her. He seemed to be at a loss.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You came here spoiling for a fight and I conceded and now you don’t know what to do with all that excess energy.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Something like that.”

  “I really am sorry about Max,” she said. “I can vouch for Dino Carminucci and Bo Crutcher. I can vouch for everyone on the team. Max’ll learn a lot from them—not just their bad habits. It took me three years to convince the team to pick Avalon, and I got to know several of them really well.”

  Greg nodded, his jaw f
lexing. “I don’t know how I missed it,” he said. “How did I miss seeing how unhappy my own kid was with his team? I mean, I knew he had his ups and downs, but I didn’t realize he was ready to quit. That’s why I was spoiling for a fight. I’m pissed at myself.”

  “Kids can hide the whole world from their parents if they want. You know that.” She paused, studied his taut shoulders and flexing hands. “Have a seat, Greg.”

  He frowned. “It’s your night off. I figured you’d be going out.”

  “And yet that didn’t stop you from coming to see me.”

  “I’ll leave if you—”

  “I just invited you to sit down. What can I get you to drink? The usual?”

  “I have a usual?”

  “Summer Ale Microbrew.”

  She went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle and grabbed a bag of pretzels from the counter. When she turned, she nearly bumped into him. “You’re supposed to be sitting down.”

  Keeping his eyes on her face, he opened the beer and took a sip. “Let’s both sit.”

  They went to the sofa. She tried to be nonchalant as she moved a stack of books and the laundry basket, making room for both of them. A song she loved by the Dixie Chicks drifted from the stereo, sad yet beautiful and wise and soothing. Nina turned to him, drawing one knee up to her chest. “What are we doing, Greg?”

  “Not sure. All I know is if you go out with one more guy, I’ll probably explode.”

  Candid of him. “So I should spend my night off by myself to keep you from exploding.”

  “No. You should spend your night off with me.”

  “That might cause me to explode,” she said with equal candor.

  “I’ve been known to have that effect on women.”