Summer Darlings Page 17

  “Just over the Williamsburg Bridge.”

  She dropped the chalk. “Yes, I’m always there. You’ve been to Brooklyn?”

  “What, do you think I grew up under a rock?”

  “I just don’t know many people like you that…”

  He adjusted his glasses square on his nose. “If the Bird is there, I’ll travel. My uncle lives in Brooklyn.” He was more down-to-earth than she imagined him.

  “What did you draw?”

  “It’s dumb,” he said. She nudged him aside so she could see. On the wall, he’d sketched the Tilt-A-Whirl from the carnival, a sweet girl’s face leaning against a boy’s shoulder. He was no Edward Hopper, but she knew what she was seeing. She leaned up against him. “I thought you couldn’t draw.”

  He started to erase it. “I can’t.”

  She stopped him, tenderly wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “It’s good.”

  He took her hand again, and she felt giddy as they walked back to the table.

  The waiter brought out breakfast, pouring them fresh coffee as they took their seats.

  “You play anything?” Sullivan spooned a dainty square of egg. After every bite, he raised his napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth.

  “My grandmother had a piano. The lady she worked for left it to her, and she had it crammed in this tiny living room. I can play ‘Chopsticks.’ ”

  “You like it?” He pointed at her plate. “The goat cheese?”

  It was saltier than she preferred, but she wouldn’t complain. She nodded.

  “You know there’s a piano inside,” he said.

  Heddy winced. “Please don’t make me.”

  He poured her more water from the carafe. “I don’t make anyone do something they don’t want to. Mother gave me too much practice at that.” He sipped his water. “No, I meant that I could play for you.”

  The sun had popped out, and it was high above them now—a quick glance at her wrist told her it was close to noon. Heddy had to pick up the children an hour earlier today. “Raincheck? We better be getting back.”

  Sullivan waved for the waiter, taking care of the bill, and they walked back down the field, a few inches closer this time. A family loaded their suitcases into a tiny plane and she wondered how they’d all fit inside.

  “I’m playing next Friday night. I go on late, ten o’clock, but will you come?”

  She slid into the passenger seat, feeling glowy and happy. “I’ll bring Ruth.”

  He closed the door, and in the moment it took him to walk to the driver’s side, she exhaled. He wasn’t snobbish or entitled. He was sweet, and he’d surprised her with his unconventional sensibilities. He was a true bohemian.

  FOURTEEN

  After pedaling over a steep hill to the unmistakable scent of manure wafting from the wire fence running along the roadside and the sound of her panting, Heddy crested over the top, rewarded with a wide-open view of the sea, choppy waves storming the shore. The bike ride into Vineyard Haven was longer than Heddy remembered, but she was coasting now. State Road roamed the countryside, running along stone walls with few houses in sight. So many shades of green: the distant grasses of the salt ponds, lush lawns, soaring pine trees, the leaves of oak and maple trees glowing chartreuse in the sunlight.

  She relished the warm sun on her face, remembering a unit on astronomy in her general sciences class when she’d learned the sun was a star. When the professor with the tight suit and skinny mustache wrote it on the blackboard, Heddy thought back to when she was a young girl and she’d strain to see a star out her living room window, so she could wish on it. The city was too bright with cars and streetlights to see anything, and back then, she thought that luck eluded her, that only special people could see the stars. But the greatest, most powerful star—the sun—followed her all day long, watching over her like a protective parent. Its power, the way it lit her up inside, had always been right there.

  The sun had propelled her out of bed early that morning, with Teddy up before she was since he wasn’t sleeping well with Miss Pinkie missing. It was her fourth Sunday on the island, and Heddy had decided she’d spend her morning off on a bike ride. Earlier, she’d checked on the children at the breakfast table, who were mopping up the last of their yolks with buttered toast. Then Heddy had excused herself to find Jean-Rose on the porch.

  The night before, Heddy had been having trouble sleeping, so she popped downstairs after midnight for a glass of milk. On the second-floor landing, she’d heard sniffling from Jean-Rose’s room. She supposed she and Ted had had another row. At dinner parties with their friends, they would finish each other’s sentences, lavish compliments on each other, emit a magnetism few couples could emulate. And yet, in private, they seemed to cause only pain.

  She’d found her boss in an Adirondack chair, slices of cucumbers on her eyes. “Excuse me, Jean-Rose. Do you mind if take a bike ride into town?”

  Jean-Rose didn’t say anything, and Heddy waited a few awkward moments before saying, “Jean-Rose?”

  “If you must,” Jean-Rose told her. Jean-Rose would never protest spending time with her children, but she had seemed perturbed by Heddy’s request, even if technically Heddy had off Sunday mornings before noon—and even if Heddy had never actually taken a Sunday morning off at all. Jean-Rose preferred to keep the children at a distance, waltzing in and out of their day like a beloved aunt, generous with her attention when it was convenient but slipping off the moment she grew bored of them. It was Heddy who wiped their bottoms and tied their shoes. She cleaned smudges from their cheeks and knew when they’d last taken a bath.

  “I hooked up the sprinkler yesterday,” Heddy had said. “Perhaps set them in the grass for a bit. Oh, and I left their sidewalk chalk on the porch.”

  Jean-Rose lifted the cucumber slices from her puffy eyes. “I know how to care for my kids.”

  Heddy had searched Jean-Rose’s face to understand what she did wrong, but she didn’t see anything but the navy head scarf Jean-Rose had tied at her temples. “I try to have a plan, and I just thought it would be helpful—”

  “Lots of plans. Lots of things to do here on the island, hmm.” Jean-Rose yawned, lowering the green slices onto her eyelids. “We’ll be fine, thank you.”

  Things got worse when, feeling dismissed, Heddy had gone to the garage to fetch the creamy yellow Schwinn cruiser she favored out from behind some boxes. Poking from the top of one box, she’d noticed a familiar Mary Jane shoe. A doll, her legs bent sideways, carelessly stuffed in. Heddy pulled Miss Pinkie out, clutching her like Teddy would have.

  “Teddy!” she’d called, gleeful, running her finger along the doll’s peculiar blond curl, but as the boy’s footsteps approached, she realized someone had taken the doll and hidden it. No doubt his mother. She stuffed the doll back into the box.

  A car beeped at her, and Heddy swerved the bike into the grass before realizing it was Susanne, her eyes glued to the road.

  Heddy’s mind drifted to Sullivan, how awkward he’d been until the airfield, how he’d drawn them at the carnival, how he tried to erase it. She remembered the carnations still in a vase on her nightstand. That he came from money was intoxicating, she could admit that. Still, even though she wanted to improve her lot, she would never be one of those women who hung around fancy hotel bars hoping to meet a man with deep pockets. So many men opened their wallets only if women opened their legs. The last thing she needed was a problem she’d have to drive across state lines to fix.

  Heddy leaned the Schwinn up against the white-painted clapboard of the drugstore. It was easy to locate the makeup aisle, a small display in the front near the racks of nail polish, and she picked up the cheapest liquid liner. She examined the lipsticks, suddenly wanting to buy Jean-Rose a gift, as a thank-you for everything she’d done with Sullivan, even if she’d been moody that morning. Then she found a small bottle of perfume smelling of honeysuckles: perfect. She bought one for herself, too, and had the shopkeeper wrap one in pretty
pink paper and ribbon. She’d go to Martin’s Shoes next. She shouldn’t spend money on a pair of heels she’d wear once, but she couldn’t go to the party in her boss’s flats, either.

  Someone laid on a car horn as soon as she stepped outside, the piercing honk cutting through Heddy’s quiet thoughts. She jumped backward on the sidewalk.

  “What a relief! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Jean-Rose pulled the convertible to a screech alongside the curb. She opened the car door, shooing Anna and Teddy onto the sidewalk, her hair held back with a cheetah-print headband.

  “I planned to be back on time,” Heddy muttered, hiding the bag behind her.

  “I forgot Susanne is having a luncheon, and I told her I’d help her set up. I couldn’t possibly bring the children.”

  Heddy knew Susanne’s babysitter, Rhoda, and from what she’d been told, Susanne had a live-in staff that rivaled the White House. She doubted she needed Jean-Rose’s help. “Susanne just passed me on the road.”

  “She had a last-minute errand.” Jean-Rose pressed a crisp five-dollar bill into her palm as the children climbed out. “Take them for hot dogs at the clam bar.”

  “But Jean-Rose, the bike. How will—”

  She blew Teddy and Anna kisses. “Mommy will see you later, lovies.”

  Anna began to cry: “Mama, mama. I want Mama.”

  Heddy picked her up, watching the tourists stepping all around them. Strangers in shorts and tank tops, others in sleeveless dresses or gauzy cover-ups, some with sunburned shoulders, others so white they blinded the eye. She grabbed Teddy’s hand, exasperated. “Let’s get bubbles.”

  It took Anna nearly an hour to calm from her tantrum, but now she ran around chasing bubbles on a rectangle of grass with a small beach and dock. They walked back to Main Street to a clam bar near the ferry, where picnic tables lined the docks in rows near a take-out window. They ordered hot dogs and french fries, a trio of lemonades. Heddy stared across the street at Anchor Grill, a white-tablecloth brasserie where the well-heeled lunched. A woman in a large-brimmed straw hat got up, and Heddy could see deeper into the restaurant, where she recognized Lane Hutchinson—“Lainey,” as Jean-Rose called her—and her husband, Max. Ash was between them, the top few buttons of his white collared shirt undone, talking with his hands. He laughed, then leaned in conspiratorially.

  “I need more ketchup.” Teddy liked to dip his hot dog in it, and she got up to pump more into a small paper cup. When she slid back into the picnic table, she glanced across the street. Lainey and Max were standing, grinning, shaking Ash’s hand. Max put a few bills down on the table, then handed Ash what Heddy assumed was a check. Ash watched the couple walk off, sitting back down in his seat for a moment and sipping at his drink. He pulled a small notebook and pen from his chest pocket and made a few notes.

  “Are you guys done?” Heddy reached into the drugstore paper bag, spritzing her neck with her new honeysuckle perfume. But she sprayed more than she intended, and now she smelled like she’d bathed in it.

  “Here, hold this.” Heddy handed Anna the last of her hot dog. “You can eat while we walk. I see Ash.”

  Anna wrinkled her nose. “But I need ketchup.”

  Heddy gathered the trash onto the tray, heading to the can to toss it, and Anna followed, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I need ketchup, Heddy.”

  Heddy rushed to pump a neat smear of red down the top of the hot dog. She handed the hot dog back to Anna, who threw it on the ground at Heddy’s feet. She could see Ash leaving the restaurant. “I want to dip it. Like Teddy.” With fury in her eyes, Anna wailed, loud enough that people started to look. Teddy yanked Anna’s ponytail, making her bawl even louder.

  Heddy scooped a flailing Anna into her arms, grabbed Teddy’s hand, and moved onto the sidewalk. When she lowered the child, there were still tears streaming down her cheeks. Heddy saw that Ash, farther down the sidewalk, was about to turn the corner. They were going to miss him altogether.

  “Ice cream,” Heddy blurted out. “We’ll get ice cream. And we’ll ride the carousel.” She wiped at the girl’s tears.

  The child folded her arms—instantly quieting. “Any ice cream I want?”

  “Yes, any flavor!” Heddy tugged her down the sidewalk.

  Anna stopped fighting her. “In a cone?”

  “Yes, yes.” As they approached him, Heddy slowed her step, pushing her bangs to the side. From there, she let the children do all the work.

  “Ash! Ash!” Anna yelled. “Heddy said we can get ice cream.” He turned around, spotting them.

  “What are you all doing in town today?” he asked, grazing his elbow against Heddy’s.

  Looking for you. “A little shopping, a little bubbles,” she said.

  Ash grabbed gently at her fingertips, then stepped back, a pitter-patter of nothing that sent Heddy aglow.

  “Did you spend a little too much time at the perfume counter today?” he asked.

  “It was Anna. She sprayed too much—”

  “No, I didn’t—” Anna protested, but Heddy pressed her hands down on the girl’s shoulders and steered her toward the ice-cream parlor.

  Teddy pouted. “How are we getting to the carousel? Heddy doesn’t have a car.”

  “Ash has a car,” Anna demanded, eyebrows cross.

  “Do you need a ride?” Ash said. “We’ll get ice cream there.” They climbed into the gray velour cab of his truck.

  They parked at a gas station in Oak Bluffs that doubled as a homemade ice-cream parlor, since Ash swore it was the best on the island. He insisted on paying for their soft-serve ice-cream cones, pulling a folded set of twenty-dollar bills from his wallet. A business card fell out, with something scribbled in pencil on the back: 10 Meeting Lane, 2 pm she saw as she handed it to him.

  “Anna, remember to tell Mommy the best key lime pie is in West Florida.” Ash called to her as she ran by. “Teddy, you, too. If your mommy and daddy get a place near me, you can eat ice cream every day.”

  They walked the dock, with its fishing boats and large trawlers smelling of fish. Anna and Teddy pretended their ice creams were people, making them kiss, and giggling as they pressed the ice cream together, then pulled them apart.

  “Thanks for the treat.” Heddy licked her cone. “How is business?”

  Ash cleaned up the edges of his cone, where it was melting. “Things are looking up, kitty kit. I got another couple to sign on. That makes two this week. There’s a floor plan I wanted you to pass on to Jean-Rose. Would you do that?”

  She nodded. He patted his shirt pocket.

  “All of this is bringing me closer to what I’m here to do.”

  “Developing an entirely new town?” Heddy wondered if it had its own post office, or zip code.

  “Ultimately, I’m trying to buy my mother her house back in Montclair.”

  Heddy watched the children running zigzags in front of them and felt a prickle of excitement as Ash touched his soft fingertips to hers once more. Would this be their special thing? Their one unique touch that marked them as two people truly in harmony, like in the movies. She wondered what her mother would think of Ash. Certainly, he was handsome. But he also had this way about him, like when they were together, they were always on a fabulous adventure.

  “We’ve had a tough go of it, the Porters. But we’re on the upswing,” he said.

  “But I thought your great-grandfather…” Her cone crumbled when she bit into it. “I thought you were a Florida boy.”

  “I spent my childhood in New Jersey.” A seagull perched on a wooden post tracked them, pivoting its head in pace with them. “Something happened to my dad, something terrible, and Mom couldn’t pay for the house, and by the time I got there, she’d been evicted… our stuff was in boxes on the sidewalk.” He paused. A motorbike zipped by, beeping them out of the way. “I’ve actually never said that to anyone before.”

  “I don’t understand.” Heddy turned to face him. Why would his family be so worried about mone
y? “Couldn’t someone help?”

  “My grandfather left more of his money to charity than he did family. And without Dad around, I need to take care of my mom. I need to get her the house back.” He cocked his head. “What is it about you that makes me want to tell you the truth?”

  She leaned closer to him. “People say I’ve got an honest face.”

  Ash held up his hands like he was holding a camera and sucked his cheek to make a clicking sound.

  “What was that?”

  “Just taking a picture.” He grinned in that sun-kissed way handsome men did. “I want to remember you as you are right now.”

  She stuck out her tongue and rolled up her eyes, making a ridiculous face that would have sent the kids into fits of giggles. “Remember this instead.” Relief washed over her when Ash laughed.

  The distant sounds of the Flying Horses Carousel’s organ music grew louder as they approached the gabled-roofed building. Teddy ran inside, and Anna followed. Hand-painted seahorses adorned with real horsehair traveled up and down on poles. At the ding of a bell, the attendant pushed out a long metal arm holding dozens of small silver rings, but only one brass one, which won a free ride.

  The kids were choosy with their horses, settling on two on opposite sides of the ride. Even with the windows popped open, it was stuffy inside; so hot a rider could overheat like a car.

  “I’ll go with Teddy.” Ash followed the boy to his preferred stallion.

  Heddy gave Anna a boost to help her up onto her creamy-white horse, the bridle painted sky blue. As the ride started to rotate, the notes of the organ music sounded a familiar tune, and Heddy held Anna’s waist secure as the girl squealed.

  On the other side of the carousel, Ash held the horse’s reins, pretending to gallop, while Teddy kicked the horse’s hinds in their imaginary race. The little black notebook was slipping out of Ash’s back pocket, and she wondered if it was a ledger, tracking the investments in his development, or more of a diary. Learning that he was working for his mother’s benefit made Heddy want to run the back of her hand along his cheek, and tell him that she was falling for him, even if she wasn’t sure he was ready to catch her.