Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg
"
No, I can get him to the emergency room faster oh,
shit,
the truck
'
s back at the house
."
"
Here. Take my keys,
"
she said quickly.
"
Do you want me to drive you?
"
"
No, that
's all right ..
. thanks,
"
he said, grabbing the keys from her.
The anguish in his eyes as he looked up at Jane stunned her. She
'
d never seen it before, the deep controlled panic of a parent whose child is in crisis. Not in her mother; not in her father.
Were we never hurt?
she wondered as Mac helped Jerry to his feet. He began to scoop the boy up in his arms, but Jerry was mortified by the thought and insisted on walking to Jane
'
s car.
They drove off. Jane watched until she could see them no more. She was shaking; there was so much blood. She wanted to talk to someone, to say,
"
Did you see that? Did you see that?
"
even though it was obvious that no one else had. Bing
'
s car was gone, and so was Cissy
'
s Jeep. She felt impossibly alone. It seemed as if there must be something she could do. She went inside, her concentration completely destroyed. What had she been doing? She had no idea.
It
'
s not that Jerry was going to die or lose a limb or be told he had a terminal disease; she knew that perfectly well. It was just that, one minute he was excited about a candy bar, and the next, he was rushing to be stapled shut or sewn up or whatever it was they did. One misstep
...
one false move
...
and his life, or at least this one day of it, had been forever altered. He would have the scar, no matter how tiny, to remember this Sunday on
Nantucket
.
She tried to put a positive spin on things.
By Tuesday he
'
ll be showing off his war wound at schooL
And good or bad, at least he
'
d been doing
something,
not sitting around and watching TV. But she felt restless and upset and was still watching the clock when Bing arrived.
"
I didn
'
t see your car; I assumed you were in town,
"
Bing said after she hailed him over.
They stood beside the tree spade, hovering over the dark spots of blood on the grass, as Jane filled him in on the accident. B
in
g looked concerned, but not overly so. He told Jane he
'
d had his share of stitches when he was growing up; all boys did.
"
We do it on purpose, split ourselves open and get sewn up again. Later on, when women ask us about the scars
— and they always do
—
we make up exotic stories about how we got them, usually in duels.
"
It was impossible not to smile. When she did, Bing stole a glancing kiss, claiming the smile, he said, for his own.
"
Don
'
t worry about Jerry. It
'
s part of growing up.
"
But Jane was still unconvinced.
"
That
'
s easy for us to say; neither of us has children.
"
She stood there in the cold April air, morose and shivering.
Bing put his arm around her to warm her and started nudging her back into the house.
"
C
'
mon; I
'
ll make us both some tea.
"
They were walking up the stairs together when Jane heard the sound of her car and swung her head around.
"
They
'
re back!
"
she cried, her heart lifting at the sight of them both in her front seat. She waved at them happily; McKenzie drove on by.
"
I think they
'
re both a little dazed,
"
Bing said softly, apologizing for his neighbor.
"
Well, sure, I
'
d expect them to be,
"
Jane said, flushing. She felt incredibly foolish, presuming to be part of their family intimacy just because she
'
d happened to witness the accident.
They went inside and Bing, true to his word, brewed both of them tea. He helped himself to what was left of Mrs. Adamont
'
s cake.
"
I ran into Lucy and Hank McKenzie in town,
"
he said, obviously trying to distract Jane.
"
They
'
re the ones who used to own my place.
"
He added,
"
Don
't expect
to see them around here, though.
"
Jane remembered the name.
"
Mac mentioned an Aunt Lucille. He told me she saw a witch under every toadstool,
"
she said, wrapping the string around her tea bag, squeezing out the last of the liquid.
"
He didn
'
t sound like he liked her very much.
"
"
No; why should he? A few years ago Hank McKenzie got into a blood feud with his brother
—
Mac
'
s father
—
and after Mac
'
s father died, he continued to take it out on Mac. It
'
s a pretty vindictive thing to sell your house to a perfect stranger
—
me
—
and leave your own nephew landlocked. As far as I can tell, Mac was an innocent caught in the crossfire.
"
"
I still don
'
t understand how he can be landlocked if the family
'
s been driving back and forth over your property forever. Isn
'
t there some law
—
adverse possession, something like that
—
that gives him an automatic right by now to come and go?
"
"
Not if the owners of my property gave the owners of his property permission in writing over the years, which they did. Historically,
Nantucket
land deals have a reputation for legal correctness.
"
"
What was the feud about?
"
Bing shrugged.
"
Who knows? A lamp, a snow shovel, someone
'
s recipe for shepherd
'
s pie. By the time the dust settles, most people don
'
t even remember.
"
"
How did the house fall into your hands? You
'
d think Mac would have moved heaven and earth to buy your place. He could
'
ve made a blind offer or something; his uncle didn
'
t have to know he was the buyer.
"
"
He didn
'
t have the money, for one thing. He
'
d just bought out his brother
'
s and si
ster's shares of the tree farm
—
the mortgage for it has got to be crippling. I
'
m also willing to bet that that
'
s what precipitated Mac
'
s divorce.
"
As for how
I
ended up with the place
—
that was pure serendipity. I was driving around one weekend, totally infatuated with the island and looking for a place to rent year-round. Hank McKenzie was out in front fixing his mailbox. I stopped, we chatted, and the next thing I knew I was in his kitchen, making an offer.
"
I wasn
'
t really planning to buy,
"
Bing explained,
"
and he wasn
'
t really planning to sell. I don
'
t know who was the most surprised: Hank, me, Mac
—
or Phillip Harrow,
"
he added.
"
Phillip told me later that he
'
d always had an eye on the place. He also told me I paid half again what it was
worth. Which is why Phillip
'
s in real estate and I
'
m not,
"
Bing said with a rueful laugh.
"
I get the impression Phillip would rather not be in real estate anymore,
"
Jane said thoughtfully.
"
He sounded pretty disillusioned the last time I spoke with him.
"
"
Maybe you
'
re right,
"
Bing admitted.
"
In any case, I
'
m not backing off the serendipity part
,
especially considering who it is who
'
s inherited the cottage next door.
"
His voice dropped into the seductively charming tone she
was learning to know
so well.
"
Today, I figure my house would be cheap at twice the price.
"
They were sitting on either side of the corner of her little oak table, close enough to one another that she could see the light reflecting off his blond eyelashes. His eyes were so incredibly blue, his voice so incredibly soothing and kind and reassuring. She had wanted to tell him about the laundry episode, but this was not the time.
When he leaned over to kiss her, gently, tentatively, she did not resist. Sometime, after he left, she would try to sort out the flattery, if that
'
s all it was, from the sincerity. But not yet. Not now.
The kiss was interrupted by the sharp rap of the front door knocker. Only one person on
Nantucket
knocked that way
—
as though he
'
d already been kept waiting too long. She jumped, remembering poor Jerry
—
and feeling a rush of guilt that she
'
d been able to forget
—
and said,
"
That
'
s Mac, with my car keys.
"
"
So
what
? He
'
s delivering your car keys, not a subpoena,
"
Bing said with a chuckle, pulling her close to him for one more kiss.
Jane broke away with a dizzy smile and went to answer the door. It was Mac, all right. The color had returned to his face and his eyes, under the shaggy brown hair, still burned bright with emotion. He handed over the keys.
"
Thanks for the car. I
'
m afraid we got a little blood on the front upholstery. I got it out, but your seat will smell like ammonia for the next few hours.
"
"
Don
'
t worry about that,
"
Jane said.
"
How
'
s Jerry?
"
"
Not too bad. They think he may have a mild concussion. He
'
s supposed to stay quiet for a while. Look, you won
'
t mind if
—
"
Jane smiled reassuringly.
"
The holly
'
s been there all your life, as I recall,
"
she said, anticipating him.
"
It can stay there awhile longer. And the tractor too.
"
Bing ambled out behind Jane and leaned his forearm against the doorway.
"
Hey, Mac,
"
he said in a friendly way.
"
How is he?
"
Mac, who
'
d stiffened when Bing appeared, answered tersely, even for him.
"
Mild concussion, four stitches.
"
"
Four! How
'
d he do?
"