That Camden Summer

by LaVyrle Spencer

  ‘‘I hated leaving you alone, but I had to.’’

  ‘‘You’ve been very kind to me tonight, Gabriel. Kinder than you would have had to be, especially considering how badly it ended the last time we were together.’’

  He stood near her chair, looking down on her upturned face, wondering what was to become of the two of them.

  ‘‘Here’s your cap,’’ he said.

  When she reached for it, her hand paused. ‘‘Turn on the light, Gabriel.’’

  ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Turn on the light.’’

  He hid the hand behind his back, hat and all. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Your hand . . . what have you done?’’

  ‘‘You know what I did. I beat the living daylights out of Elfred Spear.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Gabriel.’’ And after all the drying up she’d managed, her eyes filled again. She dropped her head and put a hand to her face, trying to hide the evidence of her feelings for him, because once again this was not the time or the place to reveal them.

  He settled into a squat at her knees and put the cap on the floor beside the chair. Rather than touch her, he touched the cat, rubbing its throat with one callused finger. ‘‘I’m sorry, Roberta, but I couldn’t let it pass. Everybody’s going to know now—your kids, Elfred’s wife, his kids. But a bastard like that has got to be stopped sometime, and if I didn’t do it, who would?’’

  She nodded behind her hand and said, ‘‘I know. It’s just so unexpected . . . your fighting for me. Nobody’s ever fought for me. I’ve always had to fight for myself.’’

  He reached out and put a big, bluff hand on her hair. He felt her silent weeping and went onto his knees, putting his other hand on her hair, too, drawing her forward till her forehead bumped his collarbone and his mouth rested on her mahogany hair.

  They remained that way a long while. Until the window grew darker and Caramel woke up and found herself surrounded by too many people. Silently she leaped to the floor and padded off into the darkened house.

  Then Gabriel whispered thickly, ‘‘I went out there to get your cap, and I found a button, too. And I saw the scuff marks in the gravel where he took you down, and so help me God, I wanted to go back to Elfred’s house and finish him off. In all my life I’ve never wanted to harm anyone, but tonight I want to kill Elfred. I believe if you’d ask me to, I would.’’

  Roberta pulled up her head and made out only the dim outline of Gabe’s features. ‘‘How badly did you beat him?’’

  ‘‘Bad. I broke some bones.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Gabe. Do you think they will arrest you for it?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know. It’s a possibility. Either way, the whole town is gonna know.’’

  She sighed and fell against the chair back, closing her eyes.

  He sat back on his heels, close, but not touching her. ‘‘You thinking about your girls?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘And yours . . . and you. Because you know what everyone’s going to say about me, don’t you? I’m divorced. I must have asked for it.’’

  ‘‘But I know the truth. I saw the evidence!’’

  ‘‘And you know what they’ll say next, don’t you? That I came to your house first. What business did I have coming to the home of a single man in a state like that? Why didn’t I go to my mother? But do you want to know why I didn’t go to her? Because she’ll say the same thing as all the rest. That it was my fault.’’

  ‘‘No, Roberta . . . she wouldn’t.’’

  ‘‘Yes, she would. It’s how she thinks. It’s always the woman’s fault.’’

  He thought for a while, then said, ‘‘Roberta, I’m sorry if I made it worse by beating him up.’’

  She took pity on him and touched his collar. ‘‘It’s all right, Gabriel. And if you stop to think about it, there is some rather exquisite sense of justice in knowing that Elfred’s true character has come to light at last. After all, how can Grace ignore it now that it’s right before her eyes?’’

  ‘‘But his girls know, too, and they don’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have done it in front of them.’’

  ‘‘No, Gabriel, you shouldn’t have. But you did, and they, like all the rest of us, will just have to live with what they know about their father. Perhaps that will be the greatest penalty Elfred will pay—the loss of their respect and love.’’

  ‘‘So you don’t intend to let the law know what he did to you?’’

  She dropped her hand from his collar and slowly shook her head. ‘‘Absolutely not.’’

  ‘‘I didn’t think so.’’ He sighed and rose from his squat, towering above her again. ‘‘But it’s so unfair. He should have to pay like any other criminal.’’

  ‘‘Gabriel, let’s not talk about it anymore.’’ It was full dark now and he saw only the faintest edge of her face as it lifted. ‘‘I’m very tired and I want to go home.’’

  ‘‘I’m going to take you.’’

  ‘‘No, please . . . the girls . . .’’

  ‘‘The girls know what’s up between us. We’re not fooling them.’’

  ‘‘What’s up between us, Gabe? I don’t seem to know myself.’’

  ‘‘You’re tired, you said, and you’ve been through a lot. This isn’t the time to get into that, so hang on, Mrs. Jewett. I’m going to do something I’ve only done once before in my life, on my wedding night.’’

  A second later she was in his arms like a child on her way to bed.

  ‘‘Gabriel, put me down. I’m not Caroline.’’

  ‘‘I know you’re not Caroline. I’ve known that for quite some time,’’ he declared, heading for the stairs. ‘‘Turn on that light. The switch is down by your hip.’’

  A moment later the switch snapped and the brightness made both of them squint as he carried her down the stairs.

  ‘‘You don’t listen very well,’’ she said, circling his neck with both arms, for any other way the ride was awkward. ‘‘I said to put me down.’’

  ‘‘Heard you.’’

  He took her through the kitchen and opened the screen door with her feet and went out into the starlight through the strong scent of roses.

  ‘‘You just carried me under Caroline’s rose arbor.’’

  ‘‘Ayup,’’ he said.

  ‘‘And if you drive my motorcar you’ll have to walk back home.’’

  ‘‘Ayup,’’ he said. ‘‘Done it before.’’

  ‘‘And if anyone happens to be letting his cat in for the night and sees us we’ll both have to leave town.’’

  ‘‘Piss on ’em.’’

  She couldn’t help but smile; he was not his usual mild-mannered self tonight. He dropped her feet when they reached her car, and opened the passenger door for her, then slammed her inside. It took a minute for him to set the levers, light the headlamps and do the cranking. When he got in, he sat for a moment before putting the automobile in motion.

  ‘‘Listen, Roberta. When you’re feeling up to it, you and I should have a talk.’’

  ‘‘About what?’’

  ‘‘About some of the things we said to each other the night of that clambake.’’

  ‘‘Oh, that.’’

  They rumbled away from the boulevard down the dark street, their lamp beams bouncing with every pile of horse dung and pothole they crossed.

  ‘‘Don’t you think we should?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I suppose so.’’

  ‘‘All right then, you let me know and I’ll come over whenever you say and we’ll get that straightened out.’’

  ‘‘You think we can?’’

  ‘‘Don’t know, but we got to try, don’t we?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I suppose we do.’’

  ‘‘All right,’’ he said as they approached her house. ‘‘Now, what are you going to tell the girls about tonight?’’

  ‘‘The truth. What else can I do when I’m wearing Caroline’s dress? Besides, I had a lot of time to think while you were gone, and I decided that I�
��ve never hidden the truth from my girls before, and we’ve always fared just fine. I’ll figure out a way to tell them that won’t traumatize them.’’

  He braked, shut off the engine, set the levers and said, ‘‘All right, Roberta, we’ll do this your way. Nothing but the truth.’’

  ‘‘What about Isobel?’’

  He considered a moment, then answered, ‘‘She’s the same age as Susan.’’

  ‘‘But she’s led a much more sheltered life. Besides, it really isn’t her problem, is it? I’m not her mother.’’

  He offered no response because he didn’t know what to say.

  Roberta lay her hand on the seat near his thigh. ‘‘I’ll tell you something. I really don’t know what I’m going to say when I walk in there. All four of those girls are innocents. They don’t deserve to learn that the world has cruelty like Elfred’s, and when I think about them finding out it makes me detest him all the more. He’s their uncle, Gabe . . . their uncle! Just think about that.’’

  They did, for some time, in silence.

  Finally Gabe sighed. ‘‘Well, let’s just go in there and see what they say. I’ll take my cue from you.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, Gabriel,’’ she said.

  They got out of the car and she waited while he stopped the carbide drip to the headlamps. Then they walked to her house to face their children, together.

  Thirteen

  The house smelled strongly of chocolate. The front room was dark, but through the lighted kitchen doorway Roberta glimpsed all four girls gathered around the table, leaning on their elbows, eating something from a flat pan. They were talking loudly and Lydia must have been entertaining, for she suddenly rocketed off her chair, whizzed in a circle and flailed her arms as if she were a dervish. The others were laughing as Roberta and Gabriel entered the room.

  ‘‘Hello, girls. We’re here,’’ she announced.

  They all glanced at the doorway, and their faces lit at the sight of Roberta and Gabriel together again.

  ‘‘You’re both here!’’ Rebecca exclaimed.

  ‘‘We’re both here.’’

  ‘‘Does that mean you’ve made up?’’ Lydia asked.

  ‘‘I guess it does. What’s in the pan?’’

  ‘‘Fudge. Becky made it for supper.’’

  ‘‘Fudge? For supper?’’

  ‘‘Well, you weren’t here, so we didn’t know what else to have. And besides, we were in the mood for it.’’

  Susan had been eyeing her mother curiously. ‘‘What’s that you’re wearing?’’

  Isobel answered, ‘‘It’s my mother’s dress.’’

  ‘‘Why are you wearing her mother’s dress?’’

  Roberta looked down at the worn garment. ‘‘Because I had an emergency and needed something quick, and Gabriel offered to lend me this.’’

  ‘‘He did?’’ Isobel turned her wide eyes on her dad. ‘‘You told her she could wear Mother’s clothes?’’

  ‘‘That’s right,’’ he said, feigning nonchalance, helping himself to a piece of fudge.

  ‘‘But that’s a maternity dress!’’

  Roberta explained, ‘‘I’m bigger than your mother. This was the only thing that fit.’’

  Rebecca had been holding back, more suspicious than the rest. ‘‘What happened to your dress?’’ she asked, her attitude suggesting she wasn’t buying these surface explanations.

  ‘‘It got soiled.’’

  Gabe bit into his piece of fudge and Isobel asked, ‘‘What happened to your hand?’’

  ‘‘Fistfight.’’

  All four girls spoke at once.

  ‘‘What!’’

  ‘‘A fistfight!’’

  ‘‘Over Mother?’’

  Everybody grew animated, and the babble sounded like a flock of pelicans. Rebecca’s demand rang out at the end. ‘‘What’s going on here?’’

  Roberta’s eyes sought Gabe’s. ‘‘I think we’d better tell them and get it over with.’’

  ‘‘All right, whatever you say.’’ He set down his fudge and said, ‘‘Susan, get your mother a chair. She’s been through a lot tonight.’’

  Susan went into the living room and returned with the piano stool. When Roberta sat, Gabriel surprised everyone by taking up a stance behind her with his hands over her shoulders.

  ‘‘What I have to say goes no farther than this room. Is that understood?’’ Roberta’s eyes scanned the circle of solemn faces. Two of the girls nodded. ‘‘You neither confirm nor deny it, no matter what you might hear around town, no matter what your friends or any others might say to you.’’

  Rebecca spoke for all. ‘‘You have our promise, Mother.’’

  Roberta scrabbled through her mind for the proper place to begin. She extended her hands to the two girls nearest and said, ‘‘I think I’ll need some hands to hold. This is going to be difficult.’’ Holding Lydia’s and Susan’s hands, she told her story, avoiding overtly graphic descriptions and searching for veiled language.

  ‘‘The reason Gabriel’s hands are bruised is because he beat up your uncle Elfred for attacking me. I was out in the country and my car ran out of gas. Elfred came along and offered to help me fill my tank, and then he thought I should kiss him to thank him. When I refused, he got very rough with me and tried to force me to kiss him. He hurt me very badly and my clothes got dirty and I was very, very scared.’’

  It was apparent that only Rebecca understood the full import of what Roberta was telling them. Her face showed it. Though she sat at the table with the rest, she had advanced to a plane of adult speculation that immediately distanced her from the three younger girls. She asked no questions, but Roberta knew they were rampaging through her head.

  ‘‘Your uncle Elfred is not a nice man. He’s a . . . well . . . how shall I say it?’’

  ‘‘Womanizer,’’ Gabriel offered, still bolstering her as before.

  ‘‘Yes, I guess that’s as good a word as any. Do you all know what that means?’’

  The younger girls looked at each other and shrugged sheepishly, their hands clasped between their knees under the table.

  ‘‘He likes to flirt with other ladies besides Aunt Grace. Only sometimes it goes further than flirting, and he gets demanding. That’s what happened to me.’’

  Lydia asked innocently, ‘‘Did he hit you, Mommy?’’ She had given up calling Roberta Mommy long ago, but it crept back into her vernacular now that her mother’s well-being was threatened.

  ‘‘Well . . . no.’’ Roberta thought for a beat, then said more energetically, ‘‘But I hit him. Pretty hard, too.’’

  ‘‘You did?’’ Lydia’s eyes brightened. ‘‘Golly!’’

  Before any of the youngsters could ask for details of the attack, Roberta steered the conversation on another tack. ‘‘Now listen to me, because this is important. Your cousins were there when Gabriel beat up their father, and so was Aunt Grace. So I’m not sure they’ll want to come over here and do things with you anymore.’’

  ‘‘Can’t we ask them to?’’ Susan inquired.

  ‘‘Not for a while. Let things settle down a little bit. And as for going over to their house, I’m afraid that’s going to be against the rules from now on.’’

  Lydia looked dismayed, and Roberta could see a jag of whining coming on. Sure enough, Lydia whined, ‘‘But Sophie makes the best praline cookies. We all love her praline cookies, Mother.’’

  ‘‘Nevertheless, I don’t want you over there.’’

  Rebecca was staring at Gabe’s hands on Roberta’s shoulders. Her concerns far outstripped an end to Sophie’s pralines.

  Roberta took a deep breath and sat up straighter. ‘‘Gabriel and I thought you should know what happened, but I’m all right now, so you don’t have to worry. I went to his house and he took good care of me, so now all we have to worry about is you four who ate nothing but fudge for supper, isn’t that right?’’

  Though Roberta tried to end the discourse on a cheerier not
e, one of the group was noticeably more glum than the others when the evening broke up. Rebecca, already becoming estranged from her siblings by her infatuation with Ethan Ogier, withdrew to her bedroom, leaving the others to bid Isobel and Gabriel good night. They all wandered out to the porch where Isobel gave Roberta a good-bye hug and said, ‘‘I’m sorry Mr. Spear was so mean to you.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, Isobel. But don’t worry about me. Good night, sweetie.’’ Fireflies were glimmering in the shrubs as the three girls went ahead. The neighborhood lay quiet beneath a moon-washed sky and the air had the dewy coolness that would leave the painted porch floor misted with moisture in the morning. Gabriel lingered on the porch with Roberta, feeling protective and loath to leave her. There, in the shadows, he put his hands on her shoulders, inquiring, ‘‘Will you be all right?’’

  It had taken a lot to bring out that touch of affection, she thought, but he still had a long way to go. ‘‘I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.’’

  A mosquito came buzzing, and he fanned it away from his ear. ‘‘You think you’ll stay home tomorrow?’’

  ‘‘I need every cent I can earn. I’ll be working.’’

  ‘‘In the country?‘‘

  ‘‘In Rockport in the morning. In the afternoon I don’t know where until I get my orders.’’

  ‘‘I’ll worry about you, being out and about in your car from now on.’’

  ‘‘No sense worrying.’’ She, too, waved off a mosquito. ‘‘Nobody but Elfred would present any kind of threat to me, and you’ve taken care of him.’’

  ‘‘Nevertheless, I’ll worry.’’

  ‘‘I’m not the kind who’ll tuck my tail and hide, Gabriel. I simply have to do what I have to do, and if I have to drive through these mountains to support my girls, so be it. I’m not saying there won’t be times when my heart won’t jump into my throat if I see a man approaching me, but I’ll just have to learn to live with it, won’t I?’’

  He took one of her hands and covered it with his own. Their surroundings gave enough light for her to see the outline of his nose and chin, and pinpricks of reflected light from his eyes as he said quietly, ‘‘You’re quite a woman, Roberta, you know that?’’