Two Weeks in August (9 page)

They’d been so alike, she reminisced. Both with a streak of fun in them; do most anything for a laugh. Silliness was what brought them together.

So many years ago yet she still saw it with crystal clarity.

Working as a proofreader for the
Chincoteague Wagoneer
, the small island newspaper, Hazy had thought that journalism might be her field. Fresh out of high school she was an old hand at the job because she’d worked at the paper all through school, gradually advancing from “gofer” to proofreader. Words came easily to her and it was a natural gift to place them on paper in the best way so they could be understood easily. She knew one of the older staff writers was due to retire the following year so Hazy was seriously considering vying for that position. Or the position of whomever, in house, might move up into that slot.

There was a young girl who hung around the office in the evenings, the daughter of one of the owners. She was lovely, small and slim, with blond, silky-shiny hair sleekly cropped off at shoulder length and often pulled back into a short ponytail. Her nose was long, patrician, her mouth small, her white teeth dainty. Her blue eyes were speculative, cool, and could convey unbelievable disdain if she was provoked. Hazy knew; she had watched her for years, fantasizing about the two of them together.

One day, as Hazy was working on the social register, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She turned and saw the girl reading over her shoulder. She smiled sweetly as Hazy caught her with her eyes. Hazy, cherishing her good fortune, returned the smile.

The girl reached out a slim, perfectly-manicured index finger and touched a word on the copy sheet. It was high up on the page, in a paragraph that had, supposedly, already been proofread and corrected. Hazy lifted an eyebrow and bent to read the word: “boby.” Confused, she went back several words to put it in context.

Mr. and Mrs. Carlton E. Wooby announce the birth of a boby boy. Oliver Everett Wooby was born at 6:25 a.m. Tuesday. Mother and son are both doing well.

How had she missed it?

Before she could pen in the correction squiggle, the girl leaned forward and sketched in another
‘
o
’
next to the word boby.

“Booby Wooby,” she said, light dancing in her eyes.

Strangely enough, Hazy left it as it was and it came out that evening as booby boy Wooby. That was an unHazy-like thing to do, just as was the passionate relationship that sprang up between the two of them. Fast, furious, and in the end, destructive.

It began to unravel several months later when Hazy’s calls weren’t picked up and were never returned. Worried, she’d gone to the high school during her lunch hour. On the second day of watching she saw them, walking arm in arm toward the gym. He was a handsome boy, right enough, but when they moved into an alcove and the kissing started, Hazy had stalked off, unable to watch.

Hazy blamed herself at first, spending days locked in self-loathing and pity. Then she realized that CC was a certain type of girl. There had been several of them at their high school. They experimented, lived for the moment, took what they wanted, whatever made them feel good for a short time, and then moved on when the excitement paled. Hazy wasn’t stupid, she knew the type and should have had her guard up.

She’d made a solemn vow when CC had dumped her so cruelly. She’d never be hurt that way again.

And she hadn’t, not in almost twenty years. No woman had ever touched her heart. Her conquests had been the wealthy, older tourists or the young, still innocent island girls. The former knew the score; the latter had yet to learn.

She had always been able to mentally criticize each woman, pick her to pieces until there was nothing left to threaten her peace of mind. By that time the relationship was stripped to the bone as well, leaving nothing to nourish it.

Hazy was well aware of this trait in herself and rather enjoyed the irony of it. Who needed a woman trying to edge into her life? She could love them and leave them as easy as anyone. Since CC, she’d never had the desire for anything more than the coolest of relationships.

Until now.

She almost dropped her coffee cup into the channel and had to fumble quickly to catch it.

Now where had that thought hailed from? She looked around the dock scowling. She guessed that the tiny slip of a girl was beginning to get under her skin after all. Walking quickly into the office, she reassured herself. It was okay. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

Chapter 12

Nina was feeling even sadder after talking to her father and sparring with Hazy, so she showered and threw on some of her oldest clothing and rode her bike out to Grandpapa Tom’s house. Physical exertion was usually effective in banishing the blues and since there was painting to be done at the house, she felt she was a prime candidate for the job.

Parking her bike at the side of the The Border, she whipped a large handkerchief out of her back pocket and tied it carefully over her hair.

Mander was in the large living area nailing a piece of mitered baseboard to the wall near the kitchen door. Workmen stirred and talked softly in adjoining rooms.

“Hey there,” she called, upon catching sight of Nina.

“Hi Mander, can you use a little help today? I need to occupy my mind.”

Mander looked surprised but answered readily enough. “Sure, I never turn down an offer of help. What did you have in mind?” She swiped at her forehead with a balled-up cloth.

“I thought I could paint a little. I wield a pretty mean paintbrush, or so I’ve been told.” She smiled impishly, trying to show her they could still be friends.

Mander returned the grin.

“Well,
okay
,” she sighed and rubbed her palms together, “let’s see what we can do with you. Danny has already started on this room and Ray is in the other. I’ll get you to do one of the bedrooms upstairs.”

She started for the stairway. “Let me open the paint and stir it around for you.”

“Whoa,” Nina cried quickly, “get back here. There’s no need for you to do all that. I’m perfectly capable. Just go back to what you were doing. I’ll call you if I need help.”

“Okay.” Mander watched her mount the stairs. “The roller and pan are in the bottom of the closet and the paint should be in the center of each room.”

Her cheery ‘thanks’ floated down the staircase as Nina ascended.

She was intrigued by the changes that Mander’s crew had made to Grandpapa’s home. The walls along the stairway, which had once been pocked with age, had been replaced with new Sheetrock and painted a subdued dove gray. The steps and risers had been sanded and sealed with polyurethane, as had the floorboards of the landing and the long upstairs hallway. The four rooms on this floor had been mostly unused after Freda had moved away. At one time, Tom and Emily had shared the master bedroom, but after her death, Tom had begun sleeping downstairs in a small room off the kitchen. He’d been content with a single cot, a stack of books and a lamp. Freda’s room had been at the end of the long upstairs hallway, with Anna, when her husband was away at sea, sleeping in the smaller bedroom next to Freda’s. Anna’s room was Nina’s favorite as it faced east and had a full-on view of the channel. It was colder than the other rooms in the winter, however, and stepping inside, she was glad to see that Mander had installed modern double-walled glass windows and a new heat register.

She and Mander had already discussed the paint colors her grandfather had chosen and she had opted to leave them unchanged. It somehow kept him closer. As she pried open the paint can, she was gratified to see the color he’d chosen for Anna’s room, as Nina had always referred to the room she’d used while there, was a lovely robin’s egg blue.

Painting her new bedroom was the perfect chore. She could be alone to think about her life and the choices she would need to make. Like how she was going to avoid Mander’s advances, for example. What was it about her that was so annoying? She frowned and applied pastel-tinted paint to the south wall.

If only she could pinpoint exactly what bothered her about Mander, maybe it would help. As it was, with her feelings undefined, she felt as if it would be wrong to deny a relationship; it would be like not allowing Mander a chance to prove herself.

Yet she didn’t want a relationship, did she? Not like that. She wanted something
real
, permanent and thrilling, something that made her feel loved for all the right reasons. Mander just wasn’t
it
and
there was nothing she could do to change that, Nina decided.

The afternoon sun was a pale glow when she finished the room. She stood back and admired her handiwork. It was lovely; the pale blue walls were made almost ruddy by the spreading sunset reflecting off the channel water. It’ll be lovely to lie in this room when the sun comes up, she thought. She envisioned a lot of white furnishings in this room with maybe an occasional touch of light pink. Her Grandmother Christie’s white lace bedspread came to mind. It would look fabulous on a big four-poster bed in this room.

Hands clasped her from behind as she stood musing and a firm body pressed against her from shoulder to knees. Warm lips pressed into the curve of her neck and a sudden startling image of Hazy Duncan filled her mind.

Whipping around she was actually surprised to see Mander.

“Mander,” she gasped, her face flushed and heart pounding.

Mander spread her hands and frowned in confusion. “Who’d you think it would be? Lon Chaney? Count Dracula?”

Nina smiled weakly. “No, no, of course not. You just startled me sneaking up like that. You should be ashamed, scaring poor defenseless girls.”

Mander indicated the paint roller Nina still held upraised in a threatening stance. “I wouldn’t say defenseless.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said sheepishly as she lowered it.

“I just wanted a little snuggle, that’s all.” She took Nina in her arms again, kissing her kerchief-covered forehead. “Wanna go grab a bite with me? I’m done for today and you should be too.”

Angered by the unwelcome familiarity, especially after their previous discussion, she nevertheless tried to avoid being too harsh. “Yeah, I am done. What do you think?” She pulled away to spread her arms and rotate slowly. “I did a good job, huh?”

Mander squinted and strode over to examine one wall. “Yep, sure did. Couldn’t have done better myself. Now, how about dinner. You hungry?”

Nina chewed her bottom lip, raising uncertain eyes to meet Mander’s. She felt like such a coward and didn’t understand why she couldn’t be more forthright. “I don’t know, Mander. I’m really not too hungry. My…my stomach’s been a little upset today. I think I’d rather go home, take a long, hot shower and pop right into bed.”

Mander looked at her dubiously, then finally said quietly, “Yeah, probably too much seafood the other night. It affects a lot of people that way.”