Out of the Storm (14 page)

Every evening Kylie and Rusty played in the spacious side yard, joined by Lola, the little girl next door. Eric sat on the porch swing enjoying a cigarette while Ashley weeded Elaine’s precious flowers. On Thursday, when a warm, spring rain dampened the grass, the girls put on another impromptu concert at Elaine’s Baldwin. Ashley played from memory. “The Water is Wide” was his favorite. It was a hymn Eric remembered from his childhood. To a bystander they looked like a happy, well-adjusted family.

But the week followed another pattern. Each morning Ashley asked him to come home to lunch and each day he met Joey instead. When he and Joey parted company on Friday, she gave him a long kiss on the lips. But Eric wasn’t fooling himself. His goal wasn’t encouraging his relationship with Joey; it was an attempt to avoid one with Ashley. Despite the powerful chemistry and the obvious attraction they shared, Eric wasn’t sure that a relationship with her was the way to claw his way back from months of grief and self-imposed exile.

Things appeared normal, almost routine. Perhaps too much so? No strange phone calls interrupted dinner, no anonymous vehicles hid behind the giant maple. No more mysterious cell calls in the middle of the night. Could it be? Were they who and what they seemed or was this just a charade?
Was it possible Ralph’s fertile imagination fashioned this whole scenario for some reason yet to be revealed?

Whatever doubts troubled him about Ashley, he felt no ambivalence toward Kylie. He couldn’t wait to get home every night and spend time with her. He adored her. Loved running around in the tall grass with her and Rusty, teaching her horseshoes, how to tie a square knot or kick a soccer ball. And every signal Kylie sent said she cared just as much for him.

But on Friday night, when he pulled in, Lu’s car sat in the driveway. She was getting out. “Hi, Ricky. How goes the Memorial Day push? Got everybody in the water?”

“Almost,” he answered, looking for his favorite playmate.

Kylie burst out the door in another new dress and sweater. “Hi, Auntie Louise. Are we going out for hot dogs, ice cream, and miniature golf?”

Lu continued to spoil both girls, but especially Kylie. But she refused to use any of Eric’s money or his credit card. Eric was afraid she was spending her life savings on making them the best dressed runaways on Cape Cod.

Louise opened her arms as Kylie threw herself into them. “You better believe it.” She picked Kylie up and twirled her around to squeals of laughter.

Eric felt a frown cross his face when Lu glanced in his direction. “That is, if Uncle Eric doesn’t mind.”

“No. No…of course not.” He forced a smile. “You go out with Aunt Lu and have a great time.”

Quite a pair,
Eric thought as
they headed for the car, laughing. He had an empty feeling gnawing at his stomach when he realized he’d be spending the evening alone with Ashley. Something he hadn’t done since their soul-searching conversation on Tuesday night. Part of him felt excited, another surprisingly anxious.

He slowed as he walked up the stairs to the back porch. Entering the kitchen, Eric expected to see Ashley at the stove. The kitchen was spotless…but empty. Rusty stood, wrapping his slender body around his running pal’s calves. Eric opened a cabinet and extracted a large doggy treat. The spaniel chewed on it, wagged his stubby tail, and returned lazily to the little bed Ashley had fashioned in the pantry. The living room and her bedroom were vacant, too. Like the kitchen, both were spotless and in perfect order. They had been since the girl’s arrival. He passed Ashley’s room, noticing his door was closed. Pinned to it was a neatly penned note:

Eric,

Checking out the beach. It’s such a beautiful night. I made some sandwiches, potato salad, and cupcakes. Brought some beer…and a couple of cigarettes. Join me if you don’t have plans. If you’re busy we can catch up later,

Hope you can come,

Ashley

Eric read the note. Ashley’s scent clung to it. He knew nothing about perfumes. Elaine’s taste in fragrances was high-end. Everything surrounding her said “elegance.” Something expensive. He knew it was a Chanel brand. She always had to write it down for him when it was a special occasion and she needed more. But the scent that Ashley wore was different. It had a heady, almost musky quality that lingered long after her. Eric couldn’t get enough of it.

He walked to the window and looked toward the water. The emerging foliage hid any sign of the beach. Nantucket Sound was in a sleepy mood tonight, the surf barely visible. Sitting on the bed, he exhaled deeply.

Eric had an uncomfortable feeling about being alone with Ashley. He swallowed and picked up his cell, dialing Bobby in hopes his buddy would be free and they could hang out. Joey was working at the Pub till after midnight. So she offered no alternative.

“Hey, man, what’s happening?” Bobby answered on the fourth ring. “Sorry it took me so long. Just got out of the shower. Got a date, boss.” There was a moment of silence. “What about you? Playing uncle again tonight?”

“Not exactly,” Eric said. “I’m alone with Ashley. Lu and Kylie went out for junk food and ice cream.”

“That’s cool. You said Ashley was…nice. Can’t wait to meet this hot mystery woman. Spending a little one on one time might be a good idea. You can find out all her deep dark secrets.” Bobby chuckled, having no idea he’d come close to the truth.

Eric sat on his bed, silent, scratching the day-old stubble on his chin.

“Am I missing something?” Bobby paused, his voice hovering between curiosity and concern.

“No. It’s okay, man. Have a good time,” Eric whispered and hung up.

Having run out of options, Eric changed into a pair of Dockers and a clean sweatshirt. Putting his hand to his face again, he went back to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Should he shave? Hell, no. He slapped a little Polo on. Good enough. This was a casual meal.
Nothing fancy, nothing serious, nothing else
, he told himself as he snatched a piece of gum from the draw. When he reached the kitchen he glanced out the window and froze.
Shit!
A large gray sedan and the van with the electronic ears were hiding behind the giant maple again. He couldn’t have missed them on the way in. If this was handiwork on his neighbor’s house why show up so late?

Instead of heading for the beach, Eric opened the back door and walked casually toward the mailbox, careful to avoid looking at the vehicles. If he could see inside maybe he could get an idea of what and who they were, but both vehicles had tinted windows. Not SOP for a common utility van.

As he headed to the mailbox, he stopped and made a show of picking weeds along the driveway. By the time he was halfway to the mailbox, the large sedan started, made a leisurely turn and headed away from him at high speed, throwing up a trail of dust.

He retrieved the mail, glancing at the van. From this distance he could read the lettering: Cape Cod Direct—Your New Approach to Satellite Television. Could be a coincidence. Despite the time, maybe the neighbors really needed something done ASAP.

He took the mail and walked leisurely back to the house, pretending to look over the flyers. Was someone watching them and if so, why? Eric shook his head. He went into the kitchen, put down the mail and took out his cell.
Damn it!
Eric wanted an answer! He called information and asked for Cape Cod Direct. When the computer sounded confused, an operator came on, asking which office he wanted: Hyannis, Dennis, Falmouth or…

“Thanks, I’m all set.” He put down the phone. So much for intrigue…again. The mysterious strangers in the van must be part of the team hooking up a new TV setup for his neighbors. The gray sedan was probably nothing more than the car of one of the workmen. It still seemed odd that they’d be getting to the job at 5:30 but…

Enough!
He shook his head, laughing at his fruitless attempt to play detective. Eric headed for the front door and the rambling dirt path that wound through the beach roses and assorted foliage to the rocky beach that fronted on Nantucket Sound.

He walked down a ten-foot wooden stairway that needed repair and arrived at the sandy strip that bordered the small, smooth stones filling the last twenty feet to the water. He scanned the hundred yards before the coastline took a sharp turn to the east. There was a mild southwest wind. It blew the cigarette smoke toward him before he saw her. Ashley sat on a small blanket with a bag and cooler.

“Ashley,” he called and waved.

She didn’t see him. Her eyes stared straight ahead, focused on the Sound.

He walked toward the blanket. “Ashley,” he called louder as a light wind blew in his face.

“Hi,” she said as she snapped out of her trance and waved. Her face wore a pleasant, glassy smile. When he got closer he saw an empty Sam Adams on the blanket and one in front of Ashley. A six-pack rested in the small cooler she’d borrowed from the garage.

Eric sat down on the blanket. She slid toward the edge and patted the place she’d vacated. “Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Her smile broadened. “Sit down. I won’t bite. Least till we’re better acquainted.”

She threw her head back and giggled like a little girl.

She was dressed in a fitted pair of running pants. Her Red Sox team jersey had a silky look. The front was tied in a precise knot, leaving a hint of midriff exposed. She looked nice.
No, she looks
downright spectacular!

Ashley pointed to the South Side Marina hat on her head. Wisps of thick brown hair escaped from underneath it.

“Found it hanging in the back hall,” she explained. “My hair’s always such a mess. Figured this would help.”

“Glad to see you’re advertising. Nothing like a pretty girl to help promote the place. And I love the way your hair looks.” Eric’s face flushed. Had he really said that?

Ashley’s face turned crimson at his compliment. She found his eyes, showing him the shy version of her dimpled smile. “Thanks. Anything I can do to help,” she agreed, looking back toward the Sound. “Glad you found my note.” She turned toward him again. “Figured maybe you had somethin’ better to do.”

Eric shook his head. “’Fraid you’re stuck with me.” He pointed to the empty beer as she put out her cigarette. “I thought you didn’t…”

“Met your neighbor, Ginny Allen, this afternoon,” she shrugged, interrupting, and avoiding his eyes. “She told me about you. She came over and tried to pump me, figure out who I really was, and why I was here. But I turned the tables on her.” Ashley looked back at him, lips curling up. She was pleased with herself. “Hard living in the same house with a local legend. Hell, you’re a damn superhero. Didn’t know if I could handle it. Decided I needed a couple of these to loosen up.” She held up the empty Sam Adams.

“You’re of age.” Eric shrugged as he reached over and pulled one out of the cooler. “I don’t know what Ginny said. She gets carried away.”

Ashley nodded and broke in again. “I like her. Brought her daughter over, too. She and Kylie had a ball. Played all afternoon. Hide and seek, climbing trees, exploring ’round your pond.” Ashley beamed. “It’s nice Kylie’s got a real playmate. Your neighbor told me about…” Ashley stopped suddenly. When she turned, Eric read regret on her face. “About your wife.” Her large eyes glistened. She looked down at the blanket. “Quite a lady—smart, beautiful, everybody loved her from what Ginny said. The perfect couple.” Ashley’s words sounded sad, almost ironic. She raised her eyebrows and studied the water again. Pulling out another cigarette, she offered Eric the pack and lighter.

He nodded. “Thanks.” He shook a Marlboro out of the wrinkled soft pack and handed it back. “She’s right. Elaine was something special.”

He lit up and joined her in studying the Sound.

Ashley exhaled deeply. She opened her mouth to speak. “Do you want to…”

“No, but thanks.” Eric anticipated her question and shook his head. He’d spent too many Friday nights mourning Elaine. “Not tonight.”

“Sorry if I stepped on sensitive ground.” Ashley looked down at the beach.

“It’s not a problem,” Eric said. “Just something I’d rather not talk about tonight.”

She turned toward him again, wiping her cheeks of some stray tears. She worked to put on her best smile.

Ashley reached over the blanket and found his hand with hers. “Remember what I told you? If you ever want to talk I can listen real good.”

“I appreciate it,” he told her and gently pulled his hand away.

Ashley put her lips together. Her look could have been regret or embarrassment.

“You hungry?” she asked as she exhaled and opened the paper bag, pulling out two seafood salad sandwiches.

“Sure. They look good. Smell great, too.” He rubbed his hands together.

“That’s me. Five star chef.” She laughed. “Maybe I could go on TV.”

“You’ve done a great job cooking this week, and the house looks like new. But don’t go running off to TV. I need you around the marina.”

She flushed and shrugged, obviously pleased by another compliment.

“Well, how ’bout it? You ready for work tomorrow?” he wanted to bring the subject back to the mundane.

“Damn straight. Been feeling like a freeloader all week. I’m primed.” She pulled a wrinkled piece of paper out of her pocket. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“My plan to pay you back.” She said with conviction. Written in the same fine script as the note he’d found, the page was detailed, based on her assumptions about salaries. “I figure I could get around $12.50 an hour for an office job. Googled it today. Well, at forty hours a week…”

She’d spelled it out meticulously. “I figure if you don’t charge us room and board, in a few months I’ll be paid up, depending on taxes.”

Eric raised his eyebrows. “Well, taxes shouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you may be running the payroll.” He gave her a mock scowl and then winked.