Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (28 page)

“Are you trying to keep me from working?” she asked pointedly.

“Me? Nooooo. I would never ask you to put down the ink, especially on a national holiday, and do something as pointless and unproductive as eat, relax, and visit with friends.”

“Fine,” she said tersely and shoved the papers back in her bag. Within seconds, she was twiddling her thumbs, glancing around.

“What were you and Grace talking about?”

“You.”

Her head whipped over. “What? Why?”

Peter suddenly had few words and turned his head.

“Peter, why?”

He brought up a shoulder, shook his head, and pursed his lips.

“I’m going to punch you.”

“Affectionately?”

Her smile cracked, and she reached out to push him. He grabbed her arms, pulled her close, and stole a kiss.

“Yes, you are strange, Muzzy Brown. You wear pants, and ride a motorbike, and have wild hair, and twitchy eyes that are always looking for the next thing to do.”

“Those things don’t make me strange,” she said quietly. “They make me, me.”

“Yes and I love every one of them. I love the pants, especially when you’re walking away.”

Her mouth dropped, and she shoved him again.

“I love that you ride a motorbike because it’s always more fun to ride with someone. I love your wild hair, and I hope you never change it. And I love your twitchy eyes. I only hope one day they’ll stop long enough to see me.”

She rocked back on her heels, stunned.

“It’s not that I don’t see you,” she said, looking away. They were still for a moment, and then her eyes drifted quickly to the bonfire Caleb was starting and where Grace was listening to Arianna as her hands flew and fluttered as she talked, and then to their motorbikes, parked next to each other in the grass.

“What is it that you needed Caleb to pick up earlier?” she asked, nodding toward the box in the bed of his farm truck.

“A surprise for everyone.”

“What surprise? If it’s food, it’s likely gone bad.”

“It’s not food.”

“Are you going to tell me, or am I supposed to beg you?”

“You’re supposed to kiss me.”

“I already kissed you. And I think one of the kids saw.”

He laughed. “You don’t think they’ve seen their parents kiss? And, no, I kissed you. Only one time have you willingly kissed me.”

“What is your point?”

“My point is if you want me to take out the surprise for everyone, then you have to kiss me.”

She blinked rapidly. “And you call me strange.”

“Their happiness depends solely on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but only because I’m curious.” She pecked him quickly.

“You call that a kiss?” he cried.

“Technically, yes.”

“Fine, I’ll accept it, but only because it’s getting dark.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He jumped to his feet, and went to retrieve Aryl, and together, they carried the box to the center of the yard. Muzzy squinted in the dim light with interest as Peter talked, and after Caleb had slapped him on the back, Peter returned and sat down next to Muzzy.

“What was it?”

“You’ll see.”

A few moments later, Caleb called all the kids and they scurried up onto the hay bale, clinging to each other.

“Oh, sure, now they sit still,” Muzzy said.

Another moment and there was a loud hiss, whirring and overhead, a firework exploded. All the kids screamed and clapped.

“How on earth did you afford fireworks?” Muzzy asked.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to let me put my arm around you.”

She watched Caleb stab the wooden base of another rocket into the ground and then light a match. 

She scooted closer. “Fine.”

“I’ve been planning this for a while. It didn’t seem like a holiday without fireworks,” he whispered in her ear just before the next one exploded overhead.

She scrambled out from under his arm, grabbed her camera, pulled it from its case, and then stopped. Slowly, she tucked it back inside, pushed it away and scooted closer. Back under his arm, she rested her head on his shoulder.

“That was very sweet of you, Peter. Thank you.”

Episode Ten

A Different Light

Aryl and Jonathan watched the guests pull away.

“Well, there goes the last one,” Jonathan said. He started to make his way to the fish shack and Aryl fell in beside him. “This was a good idea. I wish it could have lasted longer.”

“It lasted long enough for me to buy something to drive around this winter,” Aryl said, patting his back pocket. “I’ll need your help. What I can afford will likely need work.”

“Now I’m a mechanic?” Jonathan asked as he pulled open the doors. Pots and buoys were stacked up to the roof, stored out of sight for the tours.

“No, but your father taught you a lot. You keep your Tourer running.”

“Barely,” Jonathan said with a grunt as he lifted a stack of pots. “I won’t miss packing and unpacking all this every other day.”

“Neither will I.” He looked out over the marina. “I will miss the warm days. Winter will be here before you know it.”

Jonathan paused and then looked at Aryl. “We should get a trip in before it gets cold.”

“A trip where?”

“Thacher Island. Like when we were kids.”

Aryl put a hand on his back. “Aren’t we getting a little old for camping?”

“Maybe you are,” Jonathan said with a smirk. “The girls had their night out. We should have one, too.”

“Stop and think for a minute what that night led to,” Aryl said with a tone of warning.

“That’s entirely different. A harmless overnight camp isn’t going to set off a relationship tsunami.”

***

Caleb busied himself in the barn as he frequently did. Even on the rare occasion when there wasn’t anything to do, he’d find something to do. Anything to avoid the emptiness of being in the same room with his wife. He cleaned some hand tools, rearranged piles of bolts and nails, and checked on the pigs. They were getting big and he barely had room for them. Thankfully, they were all accounted for and would be picked up one by one starting next week. That would mean more money, and he could devote time to harvest.

It was cooler, and for that, he was thankful. It had been the hottest summer in recent memory, and a few days ago, it seemed to have turned off like a switch.

From the small window above his workbench, he could see his house, and he remembered better times. Like the bachelor party for Gordon. He’d seen Arianna walking the floor, floating past the window like a Grecian goddess in a long flowing nightgown. He’d been drawn to her enough to leave the party and not care who complained. Now he felt repelled from the house, and the woman he could see through the window, busy trimming Aryl’s hair. Even when he’d wanted to talk, wanted to try to reach out, it was like two north sides of a magnet. Some unseen force kept him from getting too close.

He tried to work more than think and sat down to make a list of everything that needed to be done before fall. The little house, for one.

Tucking the pencil behind his ear, he went out to look at it. The walls both inside and out were up, and the exterior mostly covered with wood. Scraps and cut-to-fit reclaimed pieces, it wasn’t beautiful. The roof needed shingles, he needed to find a door—or make one—and two windows. It was simple, but he was proud of it. He liked to think his mother would have been happy enough here.

He stepped inside through the open framing where the front door would be. The main room was sixteen by twenty and took up two-thirds of the floor plan. It would serve as kitchen, dining, and living rooms. The remaining third was split into two small bedrooms. There was no plaster on the walls, and he could see through to each room. There was no bathroom, he planned to pull a long tin tub from the rafters of the barn and put it in the corner next to the wood stove he would eventually buy. He’d come so far with it, but it seemed there was still so much work to do. Not just with the little house, but with his own, too.

He heard the screen door slam and knew Aryl was done with his haircut. As he came around the back corner of the barn, he stopped, stunned.

“I haven’t seen your hair that short since we worked on the Street.”

Aryl rubbed his head. With just enough to comb over, the sides and back were cropped close. All traces of his thick wavy locks shorn.

“Time for a change,” Aryl said simply.

“Claire is going to hate it.”

Aryl shrugged.

“Or was that the point?” Women weren’t the only ones who could take passive digs.

“It’s just time for a change.”

“I’ll go get my stuff.” Caleb jogged up to the porch, darted in and right back out with what he needed.

He threw a bundle in the bed of the truck. “I’m bringing extra blankets. I doubt it will get cold, but you never know.”

“Forget the blankets. Bring that home brew you bartered for.”

Caleb slapped a wooden crate. “First thing I packed.”

“So, how are things?” Aryl asked, nodding to the house. With the smallest frown, Caleb glanced back.

“All right, I guess.” He didn’t look like he wanted to go any further, and Aryl didn’t press.

“We miss you on the boats,” Aryl said, tying a strap around his blanket and pillow. “It’s just not the same.”

“Sometimes I miss it, too,” Caleb said. He lowered his eyes and angled his shoulders away before the conversation could go any further. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t let himself close to Arianna. He couldn’t let anyone close to anyone. “Shouldn’t Jon be here by now?”

No sooner had he said it, Jonathan’s Tourer stopped at the end of the drive. He jumped out of the passenger seat, reached into the back to get his things, and waved as Ava drove off.

He hurried toward them with a bag over his shoulder.

He went to throw it in the back of the truck, and Aryl slapped a hand to Jonathan’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nice haircut.”

“Thanks. Promise me two things before we go.”

“What?”

“First, we’ll camp in a clearing. You’ll understand if I don’t want to sleep near any trees.”

Caleb snickered.

“And second, we won’t spend the entire time talking about women, and how we don’t understand them.”

Jonathan laughed, reached past him and tossed his bag and blanket roll.

“Fine, we won’t talk about women.”

“And the trees?”

“Aryl, we have no reason to tie you to a damn tree. Relax,” Caleb said.

Aryl walked away and Caleb sidled up to Jonathan.

“When he falls asleep, we should do it anyway,” he whispered.

***

They got a primitive camp set up and a fire rolling well before sunset.

“I’m almost done with that house,” Caleb said as he sat down. “Thanks to Ian.”

Jonathan could hear a trace of resentment in his voice.

“I would have helped more if I could have,” Jonathan said.

“I know.” Caleb didn’t look at him as he dug a stick in the dirt. “I should be able to hire someone just in time for harvest.”

“You shouldn’t have trouble finding people that need work,” Jonathan said.

Something felt off. Every now and then, Caleb’s old self peeked out with a comment or joke. Otherwise, he held a constant frown and it seemed as out of place as Aryl looking like a spring sheep. The tension wasn’t so much between them, as it was each of them and the invisible tether to problems they still had at home, and Jonathan knew this.

“Things any better with Claire?” Jonathan asked.

“Hey, I said no talking about women.”

“I’m just asking because I’m concerned.”

Aryl threw his hands up. “Christ, there goes the evening.”

“Not all night, I promise. I just want to know if things are better.”

Aryl glanced at his watch. “Fine, you have five minutes.”

Jonathan laughed. “You used to love to talk about women.”

“That’s before those women went crazy on us,” Caleb said with a hard look.

“Arianna went crazy,” Aryl said, pointing a finger. “Claire lost her mind.”

“I think there might be more you can do to get things back to normal. I had to do something I didn’t want to do. And then I had to compromise on top of that. And then I had to admit that I was wrong on a few things to begin with.”

“Don’t sit there on your high throne with your perfect marriage preaching to us, Garrett.”

Jonathan blinked. Aryl hadn’t called him by his last name since well before the crash.

“I’m not saying it’s perfect. I’m saying I had to…” He looked at each of them and sighed. “Never mind.”

Caleb added more wood to the fire. Jonathan dug a pot from his bag and Aryl added three cans of beans and a pint of broken bacon. Jonathan tore off chunks from a long loaf of bread and passed it around.

They ate in silence. Crickets and owls grew louder as the half-moon rose high in the sky. Aryl spread out his blanket and lay down on his side, staring at the fire, trying to read the flames.

In not more than a mumble, he asked for a beer. He finished it off and then resumed his thousand-yard stare.

“She wanted to get rid of it.”

Jonathan looked up. “I know.”

“I don’t understand that.”

“You don’t have to. It was a false alarm. You’re acting like the option is still on the table.”

Aryl tossed small sticks and leaves into the fire one after the other and watched them burn.

“If she gets pregnant again, it will be.”

One of those rare moments popped up again, and Caleb lifted his head. “I have those castrating shears in the barn. I could help you out.”

Jonathan snickered and even Aryl smiled. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Opening his mouth brought Jonathan’s attention to Caleb. “What about you.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Caleb shifted. “Never in my life have I seen Arianna try harder.”

“And?”

“And, it isn’t helping. I can’t seem to try with her this time.”

“You’ve been trying for years,” Aryl said. “You’ve been more than tolerant of her antics. If it were me, I’d have faked my own death a long time ago.”

A smile cracked and Caleb turned his head.

“Bad joke,” Jonathan said.

Aryl brushed it off. “Maybe that’s the way, Caleb. Just let her try. Maybe your job should just be to show up every day. After a while, perhaps you’ll feel like giving back. She might have to wait for it like you waited for her to grow up.”

Caleb listened and then scrubbed his face with his hand. “Christ, what are you, Maura now?”

“Maura’s too busy to deal with this stuff. Frankly, I think she’s tired of it. We should be able to figure this out on our own.” Out of habit, Aryl went to brush the hair off his forehead that wasn’t there.

“What was Claire’s reaction?” Jonathan asked.

“She looked shocked, but she didn’t say anything.”

“You know she’s mad. She loved your hair.”

He threw a shoulder and reached for another beer. He sipped and made a noise. “It’s not as good warm.”

“Is it me or did we have a lot more fun doing this as kids?” Caleb asked as he lay back on his bedroll.

***

On the day of Ruth’s end of summer party, Muzzy sat hostage in Arianna’s kitchen.

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying,” Muzzy growled through gritted teeth.

“I swear, I get one section detangled and it springs right back into knots. You have the most frustrating hair.”

“I honestly don’t know why you’re doing this. Or why I’m letting you do this. It’s just going to get messed up on my motorbike.”

“Oh, no it’s not,” Arianna said, biting her bottom lip and she pulled the brush through a section of hair. “You’re riding with Jon. I already arranged it.”

“I don’t want to ride with Jon.”

“Well, tough. I’m not going to turn this nightmare into a masterpiece just to have it blown apart with you zipping around on that bike.”

Muzzy grunted, folded her arms, and sank down.

“Don’t hunch. It’s bad for your posture.”

“I’m only going to Ruth’s party to take pictures and speak to people. There’s no need for all this.”

Arianna came around, took her by the shoulders, and glared with her best mommy face. “Yes, there is. Everyone knows what you look like running around this town. If they see you transformed into a glamorous Hollywood starlet, it’ll be good for business.”

“Business?”

“I’m going to ask Caleb to let me use that little house for a salon. I want to go into real business for myself.”

“That would be a great idea. You think he’ll let you?”

“I don’t know,” Arianna said with a frown. “He’s barely speaking to me, but he can’t argue that we couldn’t use the money.”

“I can help you develop a business plan,” Muzzy offered, turning her head. Arianna straightened it with a yank.