by Lyn Cote
From her pose, Jane watched Angie in Cash’s arms. Fighting her morning nap time, Angie repeatedly fluttered open her eyes, but they drooped lower and lower each time. Finally they closed in sleep, and Cash very gently arranged Angie’s neck in a more comfortable position across his arm. The baby stirred, but did not wake. Again the sight of his tender care of Angie in contrast to their separateness nearly moved Jane to tears.
“I was out of the shop the day before yesterday, the Fourth.” Jane pushed away her memories of that emotionally draining day. “It could have been returned that day, and then Mel could have bought it yesterday while I was on break. She didn’t mention it to me, but we were very busy, and then I didn’t go through all of yesterday’s receipts till this morning. I’m baffled. If some stranger were shoplifting and returning items, the clothing would not be retagged neatly as though it had never left. It must be Mel or Tish because the items are always repriced and replaced exactly where they should be.”
Lucy clucked her tongue over the problem. “And there isn’t any reason for either girl to do this. That’s what’s vexing to me. I’m sure Carmine and Rona are very generous with Mel, and I think Estelle’s whole income goes on Tish’s back. So what’s the point?”
“There isn’t any.” Jane forgot and momentarily pursed her lips. She quickly reshaped her mouth into a half smile.
“I’m sure you’ll find out what’s going on and why,” Cash said. “Whoever is doing it will overlook something and indict herself.”
Jane glanced at him. In contrast to his matter-of-fact tone, his eyes were on her, and their intensity made her shiver. After their showdown, she was able to see Cash and their situation more clearly, but a new danger to her peace of mind had moved her to tears twice in the past hour. They were man, woman and child—but not husband, wife and daughter...and they never would be. She must always keep this clearly in mind or she might presume to behave inappropriately to their situation and bring embarrassment down on herself, something that would only make their constant connection more treacherous. A tremor of uneasiness quivered through her.
A polite tap on her back door startled Jane from her reading.
“Jane, got a minute?” Rona peered through the screen to where Jane sat on her back porch.
“Sure. Want some iced tea?” Jane put down her magazine.
“Desperately.” Rona tugged at the midriff of her thin cotton blouse as though it were stuck to her skin. She followed Jane into the kitchen and took a glass of iced tea.
“I should have worn something cooler,” Rona complained.
“Cooler?” Jane looked askance at Rona’s neat blouse and shorts outfit.
“It’s the color.” Rona took a long swallow of the tea.
“That color is called pimento and it looks great on you.”
“Yeah, but every time I look down I think of hot peppers and I feel hotter.”
Jane shook her head and led Rona back out onto the relative coolness of the porch. They sat down across from each other.
“So what’s up?” Rona asked, giving Jane a long assessing look.
“Just trying to stay cool.” Jane waited, wondering what Rona had come to find out.
“Yeah, can you believe this heat?”
Jane shook her head. “Just go ahead and ask, Rona.”
“What?” Rona asked innocently.
“Rona, you’ve got to get better at this. Usually you just dive in and say what you want. But if romantic gossip or matchmaking is your mission, you hem and haw. I’m too hot to go the long way around with you. So just ask.”
Rona colored to a light shade of pimento. “Well, I hear that Cash spent the Fourth of July with you.”
Jane’s pulse jerked. “Cash spent the Fourth with me and my family. How did you hear about it?”
“Del Ray Martin saw him on your family’s pontoon boat before the fireworks,” Rona explained.
“I see. So what? Why shouldn’t my family invite Cash to our picnic?”
“Well, Cash told his foreman that you had invited him.”
“What does it matter if I invited him or Lucy did?” Jane couldn’t keep a peevish tone out of her voice.
“Well, the whole town has been wondering how long the two of you would keep arguing over the baby before you gave in.”
“Rona, I can’t believe we’re having this discussion.” Jane set her glass down with a thump.
“Well, you told me to just say it. And besides I thought you would have picked up on it by now.”
“What exactly are people saying about me?” Jane looked at Rona grimly.
“Don’t get so touchy. No one means any harm. It’s just that Cash is so good-looking. Angie’s such a little doll. And it would just be perfect if you two fell in love. The three of you would make such a great family.”
Jane felt like shouting with frustration. “You mean that people are sitting around actually discussing this?”
“Why, of course.”
“There’s nothing to it.” Folding her arms, Jane flushed warm with embarrassment.
“You two are perfect for each other.”
Before Jane could say her next word, the kitchen phone rang. With an exasperated shrug toward Rona, Jane hurried inside.
“Hello, Jane?”
Leaning against the kitchen wall, Jane gripped the receiver. “Roger?”
“Yeah, I wanted to call you sooner after the Jaycee’s dinner, but I’ve been busy. Hey, how’ve you been?”
“So-so.” She waited, not able to quell the anxiety bubbling up in her stomach over the gossip Rona had revealed. Why would Hallawell be calling her?
“I’m going to the Aquabat Show Friday night. Want to come? I’ll take you out for supper after.”
Waves of nervous tension surged through her. In her mind Rona’s words repeated, and she saw Cash on the night of the Fourth leaning down to kiss her, then she heard his stumbling apology. Maybe a casual date would confound the gossip and blunt her sharpened feeling for Cash as well. “Friday night? Yes, I’ll go.” Her stomach clenched in a quick spasm.
“Great. Got to go. Pick you up Friday at six-thirty.” In the background over the phone she heard a door slam and voices.
Jane hung up. An emotion, just one step shy of panic, whirled through her. She had successfully fended off Roger’s invitations for several years...till today. Looking up, she saw Rona, standing in the opposite doorway.
“You didn’t just do what I think you did, did you?”
Jane glanced all around the kitchen, everywhere but Rona’s face. Now this news would be all over town, too.
“Why would you go out with Hallawell? Carmine is concerned about him. Things might get out of hand.”
“What things are you talking about?”
“Cash is well liked around here. Roger not so much. And the Langleys have owned property here for over fifty years. The Shores has given a lot of men work, not only for the summer, but on into the next year.” Rona frowned, causing a deep horizontal line to crease her forehead. “I would have thought you’d be on Cash’s side. Your families—”
“Rona, you beat everything.” Jane frowned, mirroring Rona’s expression. “A month ago you were the one who came to my shop, playing matchmaker—”
“I didn’t have a crystal ball. I didn’t know there would be trouble with Hallawell. I really don’t think you should go out with him. The whole town will see you.”
Jane’s mouth was dry, and her palms were wet. Cash will see you, Jane’s inner voice paraphrased. She knew why she had accepted this date, a date she would never have contemplated otherwise. It was a gesture of cutting loose from her attraction to Cash, and it would supply the meddling gossips with something unexpected to stew about.
“I hope the town will enjoy it,” Jane said sarcastically. “I have to do my part and give them some fresh material to work with—”
“Jane! You can’t mean that!”
“Why not? It will be an unexpected episode in my story tha
t the whole town can enjoy for several days afterward.” Jane heard her own voice becoming shrill. “I’ll thrive on walking in on discussions of why the Everett girl—” Angie’s crying announced the end of her nap and cut through Jane’s tirade. “Coming, Angie,” Jane called, turning to Rona. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be gone. And believe me when I say that no one will hear about this fit of irrational—”
“Then I’ll take out an ad in the paper,” Jane declared. “That will prepare people, so they will remember to bring their cameras—”
“I can’t believe this!” Rona called as she escaped through the back door, letting it bang behind her.
Jane marched through the living room and up the stairs to Angie. Finding out that the town had linked Cash romantically with her was too close to her own fear of Cash discovering her true feelings.
Two nights later Jane opened her door and, with an inward lurch of warning, took in the sight of Roger Hallawell. He was dressed nicely in black jeans and a charcoal-and-gray-striped shirt, open at the neck. But his self-satisfied smile promptly gave Jane the urge to slam the door in his face.
Instead she opened the door wider. “Come in.”
He took one step inside and then one more, bringing himself within inches of her, crowding her. Slowly his gaze slid downward. “Like your outfit.”
Jane had decided to wear a high-necked, light green blouse and darker green culottes. A more chaste outfit would have been hard to imagine. “Thanks.”
“And these,” he continued, lightly touching one of her gold teardrop earrings.
She fought the urge to slap his hand away. She stepped back from him. “Glad you like them.” Jane turned, picked up two blue rectangular boat cushions and handed them to him. “Angie and I are ready.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. Then he said in a slightly strained voice, “Didn’t know this would be a double date.”
“Oh, I couldn’t leave Angie with a sitter. She’ll love the Aquabat Show.” And it will keep this from feeling like a real date.
In the two days since she had accepted this date, Jane had felt more like a traitor every minute. But she had been trapped in a limbo of indecision and inaction. She had not been able to bring herself to the point of picking up the phone to call and cancel till late this afternoon.
“Okay.” He pursed his lips in a tight smile. Hanging the cushions over his shoulder, Roger held the front door open for her as she wheeled the stroller out.
They walked the two blocks down to Lake Street and stopped at the bleachers next to Yosacks’s Restaurant. The Aquabat Water Ski Show took place every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday night, June through August. At six forty-five a good-sized crowd had already gathered at the cement waterside bleachers.
Unable to resist the buttery aroma, Jane stopped for popcorn and a large soda at the concession stand. She handed them to Roger and, parking the stroller near the railing along the street, she picked up Angie. “Where do you want to sit?” she asked.
He canvassed the bleachers. A hand waved from the crowd below them. Roger waved back, but he continued looking.
With Angie in her arms, she pointed to the shore where a double row of kids sat, all dressed in orange T-shirts that were emblazoned with “Camp Tomahawk.”
“See the campers, Angie. They all want to get soaked, so they are sitting right on the shore. When you get about six years older, I’ll let you sit there, too. Won’t that be fun?”
Two gray-haired men stood up, and Roger returned their signal by holding up Jane’s Coke. Then he hurried Jane and Angie down to them. Roger shook hands vigorously with both men.
“Hey there, don’t maim me,” one man said jokingly, pulling his hand away.
“Hi, Jane,” the other man said. She had, of course, recognized John Banning, village councilman and Lucy’s bridge partner, and acknowledged him with a friendly nod. He went on, “You know my wife, but do you know Sam Koch, county board supervisor?”
“Only by name. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Koch,” she said with a forced smile. When the introductions were finally complete, Roger lay down the two boat cushions and they sat on them.
Both couples had tried to mask their surprise at seeing Jane with Hallawell, but Jane had noted it, anyway. Already feeling uncomfortable about being with Roger, she had the distinct suspicion that this meeting had been prearranged to further Hallawell’s well-known campaign to enter local government. What other reason would he drag them over to sit with two couples that were more than twice her age?
The two women made much of the baby, and Angie obligingly grinned, giggled and patty-caked for them.
“She always loves an audience,” Jane said wryly, but with pride.
“Our grandson is skiing in the show this year,” Mary Banning said.
“Oh, yes, I remember now,” Jane said politely.
The conversation drifted away from Jane, then, in a muddle of names and connections. She was relieved when the microphone squawked to life, welcoming them to “The Oldest Water Ski Show North of Silver Springs, Florida.”
She had seen this show at least once a year since she had been an infant. It was a fifty-plus-year-old tradition in Eagle Lake. First, the cast of amateur skiers were introduced. Many of the teens were local, but a few were from other states: Colorado, California, Pennsylvania.
She knew the agenda by heart. Tonight’s show began, as they all did, with the bathing beauties in white swimsuits with red sequins, holding American flags while perched on the shoulders of young men on skis. Slalom and ski jumping events followed.
But the clowns, one young man always dressed like a girl in a mismatched, thrift-shop ensemble, and one like a bumpkin with his pants belted up under his armpits and a battered polka-dotted hat were her favorites. The two clowns, who both tried to take over the show, did pratfalls into the water, chased each other in a little round motorboat of bright orange, took the ski jump backward, and thoroughly delighted the crowd.
Angie could not understand the byplay, but she laughed and clapped along with the crowd. Through Angie, Jane enjoyed the show as though she had never seen it before and forgot that Hallawell sat beside her.
Intermission came with its appeal for donations, since the show was free to the public and staffed by volunteers.
The junior skiers went through the audience in twos. Jane glanced idly around and caught sight of Tish’s tawny head nearby. She was sitting with a handsome boy. Was he the one Tish and Mel had argued over?
“Enjoying yourself?” Roger murmured, his lips much too close to the rim of her ear.
“I always do.” The bucket for donations came by then. When Jane saw that Roger let it go by, she placed a wrinkled ten-dollar bill inside.
Then she saw him—Cash. At first she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but it was Cash and he was heading right toward them. “Evening, everyone,” Cash said with an easy grin. “How was the first part of the show?”
“The usual,” Banning answered, looking uncomfortable.
Cash settled down on the other side of Jane. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t have answered, even if she had known what to say. Angie squealed a welcome to her uncle and broke away from Jane’s restraining hands. Cash put down his drink and caught the little girl as she stumbled into his arms.
“She’ll be walking soon,” Mary Banning said. “Such a little doll.”
“Langley, I was impressed by your model home yesterday. Thanks for inviting the village council out to see it firsthand,” Banning said. Koch seconded the comment.
Jane observed Hallawell’s spine stiffen. Without turning her head, she caught Cash’s grim smile as he thanked both men.
“I’m sure Mister Langley’s model is quite impressive. But he would have been much wiser to build his development in a different location,” Hallawell said smoothly.
“Where would you suggest, Hallawell?” Cash asked.
Angie stood on his lap. As he held her under h
er arms, she bent and straightened her knees in a bobbing dance. Cash gazed innocently at Hallawell.
“Some location that isn’t as highly developed as this one already is,” Hallawell continued, his neck reddening.
“The Shores will add an area of distinctive homes and enhance the tax base for Eagle Lake,” Banning said firmly.
The announcer spoke up, silencing the debate. The show went on, dominated by the whine of the high-powered ski tow motors, the voice of the announcer, the clapping and cheering of the audience. Repeatedly the tow boat wakes surged up on shore, soaking the orange-shirted campers, who shrilled their appreciation.
All these noises rolled over Jane as she suffered the tension of sitting between Roger and Cash. She was intensely sorry she had come and hoped there would not be any unpleasantness when the show ended. She would never do anything this idiotic again.
Toddling back to Jane, Angie settled down in Jane’s lap and drank her evening bottle. In spite of all the commotion and noise around, Angie fell asleep.
As the evening sky evolved from true blue to rose, amethyst, then deep cobalt blue, the show ended with its grand finale. Along the shore the orange-shirted campers squealed with satisfaction at their final drenching.
Jane felt like a canary, watching the barred door of the bird cage opening. At last she could go home and forget this dreadful evening.
“Why don’t we all go to Kelly’s for a bite?” Hallawell asked as they stood up to file out.
“Thanks, but I’m busy,” Cash replied with thick irony.
The Bannings and Kochs made polite excuses.
“Okay, then I guess it’s just you and me, Jane,” Hallawell said.
Jane flushed. “I have to get Angie home—”
“I’ll carry her for you,” Cash offered. She let him roll Angie into his arms.
Hallawell’s face turned an alarming red. For a few seconds Jane feared a dreadful scene was about to be served up for all the town to see. But the presence of the two older couples seemed to restrain Hallawell. He said stiffly, “Maybe some other time then.”