Indian Summer (7 page)

The water splashing on Marcie’s legs feels cool and refreshing as they speed along. She had gotten hot sitting at the dock in the sun in her life jacket. They can’t really talk with the wind and water in their faces, so Marcie leans back and grasps the handle behind the seat to hold on. A wave runner is a lot like a motorcycle for the water. It’s propelled by sucking up water and then expelling it forcefully out the back so there isn’t a propeller or “prop” like a motor boat. In some ways this makes a wave runner safer because there’s no risk of injury from the prop, but they can still be dangerous because they go so fast. Almost every summer they hear of a wave runner accident where someone, usually a teenager, was driving too fast and too
close to another wave runner or a boat and someone is seriously injured. Marcie feels a little uneasy about riding with Kaitlyn, especially since she came at them so fast in the bay and splashed them. It’s Sunday afternoon, so the lake is crowded with weekenders, and they have to be careful to avoid other water craft. Since the wave runner can maneuver the most easily, they must give the right of way to speed boats and sailboats, which are the least maneuverable. Marcie is relieved that Kaitlyn is giving wide berth to other vehicles and not going too fast.

They reach the sandbar, and Kaitlyn slows to idle speed. “Let’s cruise around a bit and see who’s here,” she says over her shoulder. She steers them around the boats, careful to avoid anchor lines and people floating on rafts and noodles. It’s a clear, sunny day without too much wind, and there are at least 40 boats sitting at anchor, all pointing into the current as the anchors keep them from drifting away. Marcie suddenly realizes that she might see someone she knows, and then what’ll she do? Hide? Pretend not to see them? She’d be in for it then. It would not be pretty if someone mentioned seeing her at the sandbar to her parents or grandparents. She keeps close behind Kaitlyn, hoping that no one recognizes her. Quite a few families are here, but also a lot of teenagers, and Marcie notices that many of them are drinking beer.

Whispering over her shoulder, Kaitlyn says, “Look—over there on that red ski boat. That’s my brother, Kyle, and his friends. Let’s go over and say hi.” Not waiting for an answer, she steers toward the boat and calls out “Kyle!” A tall blond boy wearing blue bathing trunks covered in white stars looks up.

“Kaitlyn? What’re you doing here?” He shades his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Marcie and I just came out to see what was going on.” Marcie smiles faintly and gives a little wave with her fingers that she hopes looks nonchalant. The other three boys on the boat are looking down on them, and somehow she feels like a little kid sitting behind Kaitlyn. She is glad to see that they are drinking sodas and not beer.

“Mom know you’re here and on the wave runner?”

“Of course not!”

“Well, you’d better head back. Now that I’m in on it, I’ll get blamed if anything happens.” Glancing at Marcie, he says, “Is this the friend who is going to race with us?”

“Yes, Marcie Horton. Her family’s coming for dinner tonight.”

“Hey,” he says, and then, motioning to a boy in red swim trunks with reflective sunglasses, he adds, “This is Conner Phelps. He’s our fourth. Conner—Kaitlyn and Marcie.”

Conner gives them a salute, “Nice to meet you ladies.”

Kaitlyn says hi, and Marcie smiles back. She’s mortified to realize that she is blushing. She can feel the heat rising up her neck out of her life jacket and knows it is not because she’s hot.

“Well, we better get back before Mom does. Maybe we can figure out what days to practice later tonight.”

The boys turn back to whatever they were doing. After they get out of earshot, Marcie asks, “How old is your brother?”

“Seventeen. He’ll be a senior in high school this year. Aren’t his friends cute? I’ve never met Conner before, but he’s a hottie!”

“Yeah!” replies Marcie, who had noticed the boys’ tanned, muscled chests and attractive good looks, but it had made her feel more uncomfortable than actually interested. As far as she is concerned, they are way out of her league.

M
ARCIE IS RELIEVED
when they get back to Kaitlyn’s house without incident. No one is visible on the docks or at the back of the house as they approach.

“Awesome!” Kaitlyn exclaims. “The coast is clear. We’ll tie up the Sea-Doo and go inside for a snack. I’m starving.”

“Sounds good to me!” Marcie unsnaps her life jacket and leaves it on a chair to dry. She follows Kaitlyn up to the house. “So Kyle won’t tell on you? I know Eric would probably rat on me.”

“No way—I have too much dirt on him. Anyway, he’s older and been through it all before, so I guess he doesn’t care as much. As long as he isn’t held responsible.”

They cross the patio, climb two steps onto the back porch and enter the kitchen through sliding glass doors. It’s an enormous room with gleaming stainless steel appliances and a huge center island. Six bar stools line one side of the island. It hardly looks used.
Definitely not much cooking going on here
, thinks Marcie. No food or plates are on the counter tops and nothing looks out of place. Almost
like a picture in a magazine. Kaitlyn disappears through a door to what must be the pantry because she emerges carrying boxes of cookies and fruit snacks and a bag of chips. Behind her, Marcie can see shelves loaded with canned goods and food in boxes.

“The mother lode!” Kaitlyn says, smiling as she puts the food down on the island. “Help yourself. There’s also a bowl of fruit on the counter. Do you want a soda or lemonade?”

“Lemonade, please.”

She takes two tumblers from a cabinet, pours lemonade from a pitcher in the fridge and places them on the counter. They sit down at the island and start munching.

“So what kinds of stuff do you usually do when you’re up here?” Kaitlyn asks.

“Oh, there’s lots to do. We go fishing and sailing and swim in the cove. Of course, we go tubing and skiing on the speed boat, too.” They rarely have potato chips at home, so she opens that bag first. “Sometimes we play miniature golf at Watson Lake or go into town for ice cream. The best part of being at the lake, though, is just hanging out and relaxing and not having to do anything.”

“Hmm … sounds fun.” Kaitlyn says this in a way that makes it clear that it doesn’t sound fun. “Do you belong to the Yacht Club?” She opens her second package of fruit snacks.

“No, I’ve never been.”

“We should go sometime—my parents belong. Swimming in the pool is much nicer than the lake. All that seaweed—ick.”

“Yeah, I’d like to go.” Marcie feels a little bit like she is being absorbed into Kaitlyn’s world, doing all these things she has never done before. She never wanted to until now. It’s all pretty exciting, but she feels somewhat off balance—not quite herself.

They decide to go up to Kaitlyn’s room for a while, and Marcie feels a pang of envy as she enters the room. It’s bigger than her room at home and is furnished with a four-poster canopy bed, an armchair and footstool, and Kaitlyn has her own private bathroom. Everything matches—the curtains, bedding, towels, and carpet—like it was all purchased at the same time. Which it probably was. They did just move in this summer.

“Wow!” she says admiringly. “You have a great room. Is your room at home this nice?”

“Thanks. Do you like the flip flop theme?” She gestures to the bedspread where the recurring pattern of sandals in pastel shades of pink and orange appears. “My mom and I found all the bedding and towels on the Internet. We coordinated everything. It’s perfect for the lake, don’t you think? My room at home is okay, but now I want to redecorate it, too! I saw some really great stuff in
this magazine. Here, I’ll show you.” Kaitlyn grabs a magazine from her dresser and plops down on the bed, motioning for Marcie to join her. They look through magazines and catalogues picking out things they like, reading articles and giving each other quizzes to find out “What Kind of Friend are You?”

They are in the middle of reading an article about planning a slumber party when Mrs. Swyndall pops her head into the doorway. “Kaitlyn—Oh, hello, Marcie. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi, Mrs. Swyndall.” Marcie looks up from her magazine and feels her heart start pounding anxiously as she has the irrational thought that somehow Mrs. Swyndall will know that they took the wave runner to the sand bar. She is about to say more, but Kaitlyn quickly jumps in and says, “I saw Marcie and her brothers go into James Bay to go fishing earlier today, so I picked her up on the wave runner and brought her over here. I hope that was okay.” She smiles innocently at her mom.

“Oh, sure, no problem. As long as you stay in the bay.”

“I know, Mom,” Kaitlyn says calmly. Marcie can feel herself flush guiltily. She’s not used to deceiving adults, and not sure how she feels about it.

“Well, I just got back from the store and I could use some help unpacking the food and setting up for the barbeque.
Why don’t you two get dressed and come down to give me a hand?”

Marcie realizes she is still wearing her bathing suit and that she left her clothes on the dock. “I’ll just run down to the dock to get my clothes. My suit is dry so I can put them on over it.”

Kaitlyn walks over to the door and checks the hallway. Certain that her mom has left, she claps her hands gleefully and says, “Did you see how I handled that? Take it from the pro, it’s always best to be right up front with information, so they don’t think you’re hiding anything. Just don’t blow it when you see Kyle.” She points a scolding finger at Marcie. “Remember, you haven’t met him yet.”

“Got it,” replies Marcie with a snap of her fingers and more confidence than she feels. She thinks,
I could be an actress, I feel like I’m playing the part of someone else!
“Well, I’ll be back in a few.”

She decides to go down the front staircase—yes, there are two stairways—so she can see more of the house. The two doors she passes in the upstairs hallway are obviously guest bedrooms—attractive, but impersonal. The family’s bedrooms are at the back of the house, to take in the lake views. On her way through the downstairs front entry she hears the muffled sound of someone talking. She doesn’t think about why she decides to follow the sound of the voice, but it does seem that something is compelling her
to do it. She walks silently across the geometrically patterned hall rug in nautical shades of red, white, and blue, and, feeling a little strange in her bathing suit, approaches the room where voices can be heard. The door is slightly ajar and she pauses to listen where she can just barely see inside but won’t be seen herself.

Mr. Swyndall is sitting at his desk with his back to her. He is using the speaker phone and Marcie can hear the person on the other end of the line speaking. A man’s voice is saying “Yes … we have the permits all in place. We don’t need to get special approval since it’s private property and the zoning is all taken care of.”

“Great. We want to move ahead quickly on this to avoid interference from anyone. It should be presented as a public area with walking and biking paths. Everyone will go for that. The gated community is secondary until we’re too far into the project for objections to stick.” Mr. Swyndall leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. “Then we can start selling building lots.”

“It’s all taken care of,” the disembodied voice on the phone says confidently. “James Woods Park is the name we’ll be using at first. It won’t be James Woods Estates until we’re ready to start building houses.”

James Woods Estates! Building houses! So her fears from last night were real. Mr. Swyndall is planning to develop James Woods, and he’s not being entirely up front
about what he’s doing. She wonders how much Al really knows about this. He seemed unsatisfied with Mr. Swyndall’s answers last night, but he didn’t press it too much. Maybe he was being polite. Marcie knows she should move away from the door before she’s caught eavesdropping, but she feels rooted to the spot. It would be difficult to explain what she is doing hanging out in the hallway in her bathing suit.

“Alright, then. Keep me posted,” Mr. Swyndall says. “We’ll talk on Monday.” He leans over the desk and presses a button on the phone to hang up.

Oh, no!
Marcie thinks. He’s hanging up.
Quick, back to the entry
. Her paralysis transformed to action, Marcie swiftly and silently pads in her bare feet back to the entryway. Once there, she sees a doorway that leads to the kitchen and the back of the house and hurries towards it. She is slightly out of breath from shock and exertion when she enters the kitchen. Mrs. Swyndall is unpacking grocery bags.

“I left my clothes outside on the dock,” she says with a wave. “I’ll just get dressed and we’ll be down to help you get ready.” She has a fleeting and irrational thought about trying out for the next school play. She really is good at this. Especially since all the while her mind is whirling with thoughts—
Oh my gosh, what am I going to do? How can I stop this, and who will believe me anyway?

M
ARCIE SPENDS THE
rest of the afternoon and evening in a daze. Her thoughts keep distracting her by going back to the conversation she overheard. She and Kaitlyn get dressed and help Mrs. Swyndall set up for the party, but Marcie isn’t paying attention to what she is doing and almost drops a platter of watermelon before she gets herself in hand. When her parents and brothers arrive with her grandparents in tow, there isn’t any opportunity for her to talk with them alone about what she found out. She’s practically bursting with her knowledge, and she’s so worried that she’ll confront Mr. Swyndall in front of everyone that she tries to stay completely away from him. Not that it’s too difficult. He is standing around the grill with the other men and not paying much attention to the girls.

One part of the evening stands out clearly in her mind. When Kyle and Conner come back from the sandbar and introductions are made all around, Kaitlyn announces, “You are looking at the future winning team of the July 4th Regatta!” Her hand sweeps across Kyle, Conner, Marcie, and herself, who all happen to be standing together by the drinks cooler. A brief silence follows that seems to last
a lot longer than a few seconds to Marcie. Then everyone exhibits slightly different reactions to the news. Her parents and the Swyndalls are pleased at the idea. The moms particularly so, since they suggested that they do some sailing together in the first place.