Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (177 page)

“But aren’t oils better than drawings?”

“Not necessarily. Charcoal drawings have depth, timelessness, resonance.”

“What kind of pose did you have in mind?” Louise asked.

“I want you reading,” Natalie told her. “I want to do
Woman, Reading
.”

“I do plenty of that,” Louise said. “Fine. When should we start?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

At nine, Natalie showed up at the Barnabys’ house with her easel, paper, and charcoal. Louise was in jeans and a tee shirt, barefoot, no makeup, no jewelry.

“Perfect,” Natalie told her. “I want this to be contemporary, realistic, but also with a kind of mystery about it. I want you curled up in a chair. Do you have a book that will hold your interest?”

“Absolutely. A new Jonathan Kellerman mystery.” Louise obediently arranged herself in an armchair.

Natalie said, “Get comfortable. I want to draw you looking down.”

“Hmm.” Louise adjusted herself. “Just don’t make me look like a melted candle.”

“Damn,” Natalie joked. “That was my exact plan.”

Her heart bubbled with hope, excitement, and a bit of apprehension as she set up her small movable easel and gathered her paper, charcoal, erasers.

“Okay,” Natalie said. “Go ahead and read.” Grabbing up her charcoal, she started sketching.

Time vanished as Natalie worked. She stepped back to eye her subject, stepped forward to draw a line.

“Natalie, I need to scratch my nose.”

“Of course,” Natalie said. “Sorry! Go ahead and stretch, too. I don’t want you getting stiff.”

Louise stood up, shook her shoulders out, then resumed her position.

“We can talk,” Natalie told her. “But try not to move your head.”

“Oh, good.” Looking down at the book, Louise said, “You know, Natalie, I’ve spent some time over the years with your aunt Eleanor. She’s quite a remarkable woman.”

“She is,” Natalie answered, her mind allotting about five percent to conversation.

“But I don’t believe I’ve ever met your mother,” Louise continued. “Your mother is Eleanor’s sister, right?”

“Right.”

“I know her name—it’s Marlene, right?”

“Right.”

“I know she used to drive you and Slade down here in the summers to drop you off for a vacation, but she never stayed.” Louise looked at Natalie, a question in her eyes.

“Face the book,” Natalie told her. Still drawing, she said, “Mom raises purebred bulldogs. That’s how she makes her living. Dad left us when we were young.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. But that’s why she couldn’t ever stay. She had to get back to her bulldogs.”

“She sounds very enterprising,” Louise commented, eyes on her book.

Natalie was working with the eraser now. In charcoal drawings, erasing was as much a part of the art as the charcoal. “Mother is
insane
about bulldogs,” she told Louise. “I don’t think she was as enterprising as she was infatuated.”

“Well, she was clever to make a living with what she loves,” Louise remarked. “Isn’t that what we all hope for?”

Natalie paused. She’d never thought of her mother as
clever
. Continuing to draw, she muttered, “My mother didn’t plan to make her living that way. It just happened.”

“That’s the way it was for me,” Louise said with a chuckle. “My plan when I was young was—no making fun of me, now!—to become an airline stewardess!” She lifted her head as if gazing right through the ceiling up to the sky.

“Eyes on the book,” Natalie ordered gently.

Louise obeyed. “Back then it seemed the most glamorous occupation a girl could have! I would get to wear one of those darling chic uniforms, maybe with a scarf around my neck and a perky cap. I’d fly all over the world to exotic places. I’d meet fascinating pilots and marry one and all our life together we’d fly everywhere, until we’d seen every corner of the globe!”

Natalie grinned at the vision. “Why didn’t you become a stewardess?”

Louise chuckled. “I met Dennis. I was a sophomore at U. Mass. He had just graduated. We fell in love, and the minute I saw him, I knew all of the world I ever wanted to see was right inside that man.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic.”

“It was.”

“Louise, I’m sorry, but could you stop smiling? I need you to look meditative.”

“Meditative. Hmm. All right.”

For a few minutes, Louise gazed at her book and Natalie worked.

Natalie had to ask. “Did you ever regret it? Not becoming a stewardess?”

“Honestly? I had my days. When the babies kept me up all night crying and teething and we lived in a dreary little apartment, I allowed myself to remember my old daydream. But even then, regret my decision? No. My goodness, I’m so in love with Dennis. And my babies! My children! That’s adventure enough for me. I’m extremely fortunate and I know it.” Louise allowed some silence to pass, then remarked, “I believe most mothers wouldn’t trade anything for their children. They might long for better
circumstances
, because it can be such hard work.”

“I suppose,” Natalie replied noncommittally.

“Tell me about your mother,” Louise invited. “She must be a knockout if she looks anything like you and Slade.”

“That’s from Dad,” Natalie said. “Mom’s hair is just brown. She’s pretty, I guess, but she doesn’t keep herself up. She says the dogs don’t notice.”

Louise laughed. “I can understand that. Children can be so critical! Dogs never say you need to have your hair styled or to get out of those old jeans.”

“Don’t laugh.” Natalie concentrated fiercely on her drawing. It had never occurred to her that she and Slade had been critical, but of course they had been—there was so much about their mother to criticize!

“I was lucky in my in-laws, too,” Louise mused, looking down at the book. “Dennis’s parents were reserved, their parents had come over from England. Dennis’s father taught literature at Smith. They were stuffy, but basically kindhearted. They helped us out quite a bit financially. We couldn’t have bought this house without their assistance. We didn’t have to ask. They offered. Lorraine, Dennis’s
mother, helped with the children when they were small. They had only the one child, and she was especially enchanted by the little girls.” Louise went quiet, remembering.

Good
, Natalie thought.
Stay in your memories
. This was the expression she wanted.

Around noon, Natalie needed to shake her hand out. She could tell that Louise was fatigued from remaining in one pose. Probably she should stop for today, although she hated to. When Natalie got going on something she loved, she became a very still, utterly focused maniac.

Louise went to the kitchen to fix them iced tea when a knock came at the front door.

“I’ll see who it is,” Natalie offered.

Before she could get there, Morgan had opened the door and come in, with Petey in her arms. “Oh! Hi, Natalie. I didn’t expect to see you here. I came to say hello to Louise.”

“Hi, Morgan. Hey, Petey!” Natalie tickled the boy’s tummy. He giggled and squirmed.

“Oh. My. God!” Morgan exclaimed. “Natalie! How stunning!”

Louise said, “I haven’t seen it yet. Let me see.”

Natalie protested, “It’s far from finished! I’ve got another few days’ work to go on it.…”

Morgan set Petey on the floor. He made a beeline for the toys.

“My goodness,” Louise said. “Do I look like that?”

“I haven’t finished,” Natalie repeated.

“You don’t look exactly like that,” Morgan told Louise. “When we see you, you’re always smiling, talking—”

“Eating,” Louise joked.

“I’ve never seen you so
 … still
. Thoughtful. Gosh, this is contemporary and somehow, what’s the word I want—archetypal. Natalie, we’ve got to call Bella and make her come home right now.”

“Why?” Natalie asked.

“Because Bella wants to make some changes in Barnaby’s Barn.” Her eyes whipped toward Louise. “You know that, right?”

Louise waved her hand as if brushing away a fly. “I know that, and Dennis knows it, and we’re fine with it.”

“When I was talking with her yesterday at your cookout, Natalie, Bella said she wants it to become more of an art gallery. She has a friend, Penny Aristides—”

“I know Penny,” Louise chimed in.

“She makes fabulous jewelry,” Morgan continued. “Bella is considering displaying that, and some antique furniture, and, Natalie, she should hang your work, both your abstracts and your charcoals. I mean, you did say you wanted to sell your charcoal of Petey. And this of Louise, too. My gosh, it looks like an old master!”

“An old
mater
, you mean,” Louise joked.

“I’m calling Bella right now.” Morgan took her cell out of her shorts pocket.

While they waited for Bella, they organized a platter of cold cuts, cheeses, red grapes, and crackers. They set it on the dining room table with a pitcher of iced tea just as Bella came in the door.

“Hi, Morgan; hi, Natalie—OH!” Bella slammed to a halt, hand on her heart, looking at Natalie’s drawing. “Oh, wow.”

“Thanks. It’s not finished, though. I’ve got several more days of work to do on it. The shading is really important, the contrast between dark charcoal and light—” Spotting a section that irritated her, Natalie stepped to the canvas, picked up her charcoal, and lightly added a blurring of gray.

“So what I’m thinking,” Morgan suggested enthusiastically, “is that you carry Natalie’s charcoals and some of her abstracts. You’ve seen her charcoal of Petey, right?”

“I don’t think I have,” Bella admitted. “I’ve seen the oil of Petey. It’s in your living room. Where’s the Petey charcoal, Natalie?”

Now Natalie was working with the eraser, dabbing lightly. “In my studio.”

From the corner, Louise spoke up. “Will you want to keep anything I’ve been selling? Just asking.”

Bella answered, “Mom, of course I want to keep your Lake Worlds.
For the rest, I’m not so sure. I’ve been looking at the records. Not much has been selling. The Lucy Lattimer dolls have to go.”

“Poor Lucy.” After a moment Louise added, “But, you know, I haven’t spoken with her for a while, and I’m not sure she’s in good health. We’ll just box them up and store them in the back.”

They gathered around the table. Morgan held Petey on her lap and handed him a cracker to gnaw. “Did I tell you the Ruoffs were over about a week ago? They saw the abstract I bought from Natalie and went wild for it.”

“What are the Ruoffs like?” Bella asked. “I’ve never met them.”

Natalie listened to them with part of her mind while she continued drawing and erasing on Louise’s portrait. She preferred working in relative privacy, and her stomach was growling, but she couldn’t stop. This really was going to be an amazing piece. Perhaps her best.

“Whoa.”

The voice, low and masculine, hit Natalie like an electric shock, passing through her ears straight down her torso. She turned.

“I didn’t know you could do
that
,” Ben said. He wore khakis, a blue-and-white striped button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a dark blue tie.

Natalie was flooded with so many emotions she couldn’t sort them out. Her eyes found delight in the sight of him, her senses yearned to be nearer to him, while at the same time fierce self-protection rose up in her. She didn’t like people to see her work before it was finished, especially not people who
mattered
.

And it was the emotional news flash that Ben
mattered
that rocked her. Defensively, she asked, “What are
you
doing here?”

Ben was too entranced by her drawing to be surprised by her question. “I finished teaching. I have only morning classes in the summer. I want to go out on the lake.” He was walking toward Natalie.

Actually, Natalie realized, as she forced herself to breathe, he was walking toward the portrait. She stepped back from the easel. “It’s not finished,” she protested. “I just started it today. I’ve got a lot of work to do on it.”

“How do you do that?” Ben asked, like a child who’s just seen a magic trick. “That’s amazing. Can I watch you?”

Natalie felt a rush of blood warm her cheeks. Ben was looking right at her now, and standing close enough to reach out and touch her. It was embarrassing to be so attracted to this man while in the same room with his mother and sister! She struggled to be lighthearted. “Some of us can swim long distances, some of us can draw.”

“That’s more than drawing,” Ben said. “That’s really something, Natalie.”

Her name in his mouth was like a caress. She smiled helplessly. “Thank you.”

Morgan interrupted the moment of intimacy that so sweetly enclosed them. “Hungry, Ben? We’ve got tons of munchies here. And we’ve got the best idea about your sister’s shop.”

Ben tore his eyes away from Natalie’s. “Food, yum. Hi, everyone.” He sat down at the table.

“What did you teach today?” Morgan asked.

Ben piled cheese onto a cracker. “I had a lab. We worked with transmission electron microscopes.”

“On your bio-oil catalyzing?” Morgan asked.

“Right.”

Natalie touched her charcoal to the paper, but suddenly all inspiration had vanished, replaced by an irritation that Morgan had stolen Ben’s interest. Was Morgan
flirting
with Ben? Certainly she was fascinated by whatever it was he was talking about, leaning toward him, gesturing, nodding, totally
into
the conversation.

Natalie couldn’t work now. Her interest was fogged. She dropped the charcoal onto the tray and stretched her arms. “Done for the day.”

Ben didn’t quite look at Natalie but angled his head toward her. “Want to go for a sail?”

Surprised, she didn’t answer for a moment. “I’d love to.”

Petey dropped his cracker, wriggled off his mother’s lap, and toddled to Ben as fast as his fat legs could carry him. “Sail!”

Morgan reached for her son. “No, sweetie, not today.”

Petey’s lower lip trembled.
“Sail.”

“Honey, Mommy can’t sail our Sunfish with you unless Daddy is with us. It’s just not safe.”

Petey’s sweet, innocent face crumpled with disappointment.

“I tell you what,” Ben told the child. “Why don’t I take you and your mommy for a sail first. Then I’ll take Natalie out.”