Once, when we were only ten and we had gone down to the beach at night and gotten ourselves soaked, he took the strap to Cary. I shouted and cried outside the door to Cary's room. Afterward, I went in and put some soothing cream on his welts. He never cried nor complained and when I did, moaning that I should have gotten at least half of the beating, he looked at me and said, "What for, Laura? I can bear it for both of us. I'm happy to take your half."
Because Cary was always so devoted to me, it was hard seeing him upset and angry now. I felt like a rubber band being stretched from both sides, fearful I would soon snap. I wanted Cary to be happy, too; but I wasn't willing to make myself and Robert unhappy in the process. I was hoping Cary would accept Robert soon and we would all be happy together.
Daddy said no more about my relationship with Robert and he didn't oppose our studying together at the house. Cary didn't say anything nasty about Robert coming over, as I thought he might, so I asked him if he wanted to study with us.
"I'm not going to waste my time on that," he replied. "It's not a waste of time, Cary, I know you're not doing well in some of your classes."
"What of it? I'm not going to college. You are. I'll be working with Dad in our business, where I belong," he snapped.
"You know you want to build boats, Cary. It would be good for you to go to college and take some courses in engineering and design."
"I don't need to sit in some stuffy college classroom full of snobby kids just to learn what I already know," he said. He did know an awful lot about boats. He had never had reading difficulties when it came to that, and there wasn't a boat, a design, or a concept of which he wasn't aware. Daddy was proud of the way Cary could hold his own in a discussion about our boat or about sailing whenever Daddy's friends were around. Some of them even took to asking Cary for advice.
"If you change your mind--"
"I won't," he declared. "I have things to do at the dock."
Robert had to work until after lunch, but around two-thirty, he drove up. I was waiting for him on the front stoop. Mommy and May had gone into town to do some shopping.
"Hi," he said, getting out quickly, his books and notebooks under his arm. We exchanged a quick kiss. "I hated leaving; there's still so much work to do, but my mother practically threw me out. So," he said, "where shall we go?"
"Up to my room," I said. I had been planning on studying there and had my own work set out. "We'll be less distracted. It's too beautiful today and if we stay out here, we won't get a thing done."
It was one of those warm days when the breeze seemed like lips gently brushing my cheeks and the clouds hung lazily under a turquoise sky. The sea conspired with the golden sand to tempt me into daydreams, beckoning with its soft spray and dazzling whitecaps.
"Good idea," he said, his eyes full of more love and devotion than an ocean could hold.
I had never had a boy in my room before. Just the idea of it put butterflies in my stomach. We paused when we entered the foyer.
"Your mother's not home?"
"She took May shopping. My father and Cary are down at the dock."
"Oh." He looked embarrassed, shy about being with me in my empty house.
I took his hand.
"Come on," I said. "We've got a lot to do."
I led him upstairs and into my room. I had made the room spotless, polishing and cleaning all morning. Twice, Cary had looked in with a dark expression of disapproval on his face.
"This is a nice room," Robert said. He entered and looked at my posters of rock and movie stars. "Who gave you all these?" he asked, indicating the shelves crowded with stuffed animals and ceramic dolls. There was a collection of ceramic and pewter cats on one shelf as well.
"Daddy, Mommy, and Cary, for birthdays, special occasions," I replied. He smiled at the small table with a miniature tea set and a big doll in a chair.
"You don't still play with this, do you?" he teased.
"Sometimes. With May," I added.
He laughed and approached my canopy bed.
"Looks very comfortable."
"You can sit on it," I said and he did, bouncing and smiling.
The bedding, comforter, and pillows all matched the mauve shade of the canopy, and at the center of the two fluffy pillows was a large stuffed cat. He reached out to pet it.
"It looks so real, I had to be sure," he said.
I went to my desk, where I had an open notebook beside a pile of school textbooks.
"I've been going over my history notes."
He got up quickly and looked over my shoulder.
"I got an A in that class," he brat ted, "but don't ask me anything now. It went in and then out again."
We both laughed.
"Nice view," he said, walking toward the open window beside my bed.
"We came up here to get away from all that," I reminded him gently.
"Right, right."
"You can have that chair," I said, pointing to the one beside the desk.
"Thank you, Miss Logan," he said with a short bow. He sat and opened his math book.
"I hate these formulas," he muttered, but didn't lift his eyes from the page.
We both worked silently. Occasionally we would look up, our gazes would meet, and we would smile and look down again quickly.
"Would you like something cold to drink?" I offered, after finishing a section of notes.
"Sure."
"Cranberry juice okay?"
"Fine," he said.
"I'll be right back."
I hurried out and down the stairs, put ice cubes in the glasses, and brought them back up filled with our homemade cranberry juice. Robert was lying on my bed, his hands behind his head, gazing up at the canopy when I returned. I paused, smiling.
"Sorry," he said, sitting up guiltily. "It just looked so inviting."
"No, it's all right." I handed him his juice.
"It's good," he said.
I sat beside him and drank my own.
"Why do they make us take final exams just when it gets so beautiful outside? It's cruel," he said and I laughed.
"It's the end of the school year, Robert. What do you expect?"
"A little more consideration," he kidded.
We gazed at each other. I felt my heart begin to pound as he leaned closer and closer until our lips met.
"I've been wanting to do that for the last hour," he said.
"Me, too."
He took the glass from my hand and put it along with his own on the nightstand. Then he turned to me and we kissed again, this time embracing. I let myself fall back slowly, gently, and he lay down beside me, stroking my hair, kissing my cheeks.
"You're on my mind day and night," he said. "You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last before I close my eyes to sleep. On the days we don't see each other I hate the hours until we do."
He kissed me again, this time his hands moving over my shoulders. He brought his lips to my neck, and it was like electricity had exploded from inside my heart, speeding through every vein, to the tips of my toes and back up to my heart again. I took his head in my hands and kissed his hair while he moved his lips down, over my collarbone, unbuttoning the first and second buttons on my blouse, and then kissing the tops of my breasts, unbuttoning another button and another until he could peel away my blouse.
I let him unfasten my bra and lift it away so he could bring his lips to my tingling nipples.
I should stop him, I
thought, but I didn't. He moaned my name and his hands moved over my thighs and lifted my skirt so he could press his palms to my thighs. I put my own hands over them and held his there.
"Laura, Laura," he whispered, "I love you so much."
"I love you, too, Robert."
I let his hands go and they moved to my panties. My heart felt like a clenched fist, pounding at the inside of my chest as if it wanted to get out. When his hands moved over my hipbone and down, I uttered a small cry.
When I was younger and read novels in which girls were seduced or went too far, I swore I would never be like them, no matter how handsome the boy or how much I thought I loved him. How, I wondered, could your body make you do things you didn't want to do? How could any pleasure be so great that you would disregard all your warnings to yourself and surrender? Yet that was what was happening to me. I was moving faster and faster toward the point of no return, that moment when I would be like a swimmer who had gone out too far and was now at the mercy of the waves.
It was like one wave after another, one overwhelming, undulating sensation after another, sweeping me away from the shore of caution.
"Robert," I pleaded, "if we don't stop, we won't stop."
"I can't help wanting you, Laura."
"We're not ready yet, Robert. Let's be ready. Please," I pleaded, knowing if he refused, if he kissed me one more time or touched me one more time, I would simply fall back and throw caution to the wind.
He held his breath and then pulled back. I lay there, breathless. Robert stepped off the bed and closed his pants. I hadn't even realized he had unzipped them.
Suddenly, I heard a deep, long creak in the ceiling and my heart stopped.
"Wait," I said, pulling him back under the canopy.
"What?" He studied my face. "Do you want me to--"
"No, no, just be quiet for a minute," I ordered.
"What?" He smiled with confusion. "Why?"
There was another creak and then another, then . . . footsteps.
"Cary's upstairs," I said in a low voice.
Robert's eyes widened.
"Huh? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know he was there."
"I never heard him come in and go upstairs, Laura. And your door's open. We would have seen him go by, wouldn't we? Or," he added with a dreadful pause, "he went by while we were. . . occupied."
"No, he must have been there the whole time, Robert. We would have heard him coming in and up the steps. Those steps creak so loud it sounds like Cary might step right through them sometimes."
Robert shook his head.
"I don't understand. I thought no one was home. You said--"
"I guess he came back when I was outside waiting for you."
"So?" Robert said, shrugging after another moment's thought. "He's been upstairs. What of it? No harm done. We'll just get back to the books." He smiled.
How could I explain? How could I tell him about the peephole in the ceiling, when I couldn't face Cary about it myself? Now I had to, I thought. More than ever, now I had to.
"But first," Robert said, "I'd better cool off." He went into the bathroom.
I rose and went to my doorway, listening. Cary was as silent as a ghost now.
"Okay," Robert said, emerging, "let's get back at it."
I looked once more at the attic doorway and then I returned to my desk.
We did study and talked and studied some more. We made plans for the summer months, and Robert talked about his college plans, his desire to become an architect. His drawings were all over the bulletin boards in the art classroom.
"Actually, you and Cary have a lot more in common than Cary wants to admit," I said. "I bet you could design a boat he would like."
"Maybe. I would for the fun of it, if I didn't think he would bite my head off," Robert said.
"He won't. He and I are going to have a real heart-to-heart talk," I promised.
The front door slammed and we heard Mommy and May talking in excited voices.
"It's getting late. I'd better get back.Ill just go down and say hello to your mother. Cary's still upstairs?" he asked. "Yes," I said, gazing at the ceiling and the hole that, fortunately, Robert had not noticed.
We went downstairs and Robert talked to Mommy and signed to May for a while. He learned some new words with her and then I walked him out to his car.
"See you tomorrow," he said. "I'll get away in the afternoon for that walk on the beach."
"Okay."
He gave me a quick kiss and got into his car. I stood there and watched him disappear, until I heard the front door open and close behind me. Cary stood there, glaring at me. He started down the steps toward the beach and the dock.
"Just a minute, Cary," I said.
"What?"
"We have to talk," I said.
"I have nothing to say. I have to get to the boat."
"Well, I have something to say, Cary Logan, and you'd better stop and listen."
He paused and reluctantly turned toward me.
"Talk about what?"
"About the ceiling in my room," I said and walked toward him.
5
Maiden Voyage
.
Cary turned away and continued toward the
dock, walking very slowly. I walked beside him without speaking for a while. It was hard to think of the right words with which to begin.
"You snuck up there, didn't you, Cary? You knew Robert was coming over so you snuck back into the house and up into your attic workshop to spy on us," I said as softly and as calmly as I could.
"You're crazy," he said. "I had something to finish and just went up there. It's not my fault you didn't know I was up there. Anyway," he said, stopping and spinning around on me, "why are you so worried? You do something you're ashamed of?"
"Did I, Cary?"
He stared at me a moment, his eyes blazing. "Well? Did I?"
"How would I know?" he said, marching over
the sand faster now. I ran to catch up with him. "How would you know? You would look
through that peephole, Cary. That's how you would
know."
"What?" He stopped again, his hands on his
hips. "Peephole?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Cary
Logan. If you want, we'll go right back to the house
and to my room and point it out to you."
He tried to stare me down again, but this time
his eyes shifted guiltily away and his face turned a
bright shade of pink.
"Oh," he said, nodding, "I know what you're
talking about. There was a knothole in the wood that
fell through a while ago."
"A knothole?"
"Yeah," he said. "I just noticed it myself the
other day. You think I have nothing better to do than
go up there and peep down at you and your
boyfriend?"
"I hope you have better things to do," I said,
"and if you tell me you didn't do it and you don't do it,
I'll believe you," I said.
"I just forgot to fix it, that's all," he said. "I was
going to plug it up with some wood glue the other
day," he added, looking grateful for being allowed to
come up with an explanation. "I just got too involved
in what I was doing and forgot."
"Okay," I said.
"I can't believe you would accuse me of such a
thing," he continued, now on the offensive.
"Why shouldn't I think it, Cary? You treat me
as if I'm some sort of fallen woman now, just because
I'm seeing Robert, who, I might add, you have no
good reason not to like. He's done nothing to you." "He and his family are part of the resort
business, bringing those tourists up here," Cary said
bitterly.
"You know we need the tourists, and that's not
you talking anyway. It's Grandma Olivia. Who would
buy Daddy's lobsters if there were no tourists, and
who would buy our cranberries if people didn't want
the products from the Cape? Why do they buy them?
It's because we're a famous resort region in America,
and it's time everyone accepted that. The only people
who don't are those who've inherited so much money,
they don't care about anyone else."
"You ought to go work for the chamber of
commerce or the tourist bureau," he quipped. "Maybe I will."
"You would not." He thought a moment.
"Would you?"
"I don't intend to, but I wouldn't turn it down
out of hand," I said. "It's all beside the point, Cary.
You have to judge people for who they are and not for what their parents do or what their grandparents did.
Don't be such a Cod-snob," I warned.
He couldn't help but smile because that was a
term he and I had invented when we were much
younger. He looked away.
"I just don't want anyone taking advantage of
you, Laura. You're very trusting and innocent." "Oh, and you're a man of the world, Cary
Logan? Since when?"
"I know what boys are looking for these days,"
he said sharply.
"Robert's not like that."
"How do you know?"
"I think I would know better than you would,
Cary, unless you were eavesdropping on every one of
our conversations and spying on every one of our
dates," I said. "Are you?"
"No," he said.
"So? Then tell me why you won't at least give
Robert a chance. You'll be surprised at how much you
two have in common, Cary. You both work for your
parents. You may not respect what his parents do as
much as you respect what Daddy does, but Robert is
devoted to his father's business, just as you're devoted
to Daddy's. Nothing's been handed to him on a silver platter, just as nothing's been handed to you. You both work hard for everything you have. You're both stronger and better people than the other boys in our
school," I said.
I saw from the twinkle in his eyes that he liked
that very much.
"Robert wants to be an architect someday. He's
very interested in the work you do with boats, too.
Few of your other so-called friends even care. None
of them ever come to see your workshop."
"I don't ask them to," he said.
"But why don't you? Because you don't think
they're sincere in their interest, that's why. Well,
Robert is," I said. He smirked.
"You've bought this guy, hook, line, and sinker,
it seems."
"Cary, can't you have enough faith in me to
trust my judgment this one time? You used to respect
the things I said and believed," I wailed.
Tears flooded my eyes. When he looked at my
face his face softened.
"I'm not saying I don't believe in you, Laura." He looked at the ocean pensively and then
turned back to me.
"Okay, I'll give him a chance," he said. "If that's
what you want."
"I do."
"Fine. Now I've got to get down to the dock. I
promised I'd help Dad," he said.
"You've got to start studying for exams, Cary,"
I called as he started away.
He just waved back at me without turning and
continued to walk past the pink wild beach grass,
strands of his hair lifting in the wind. I stood there
watching him for a few moments and then made my
way back to the house, feeling I had won some sort of
victory, but not sure what it was.
However, the following Monday at school,
things were different. Cary was friendly to Robert, so
friendly, in fact, that even I was taken by surprise. "Laura tells me about all the work you and your
folks are doing on the Sea Marina. I'd like to check it
out one of these days," Cary offered, glancing at me
quickly after he had said it.
"Great," Robert said. "I could sure use some
advice about the dock. It has to be reinforced, only I'm
not sure how to go about it."
"Maybe Wednesday," Cary said, "after school."
He turned to me. "We'll pick up May and take her
along."
"She'd love that," I said, bursting with so much
happiness, I thought I might explode.
"We'll have to tell Ma," Cary said. "Let's not
mention it to Dad," he added in a lower voice. I
nodded.
Despite my father's need to have a market for
his lobsters and his cranberries, he parroted Grandma
Olivia's complaints about the tourist industry and the
damage it had done and would continue to do to the
Cape. I was grateful Cary hadn't brought it up in front
of Robert, but I was always on pins and needles when
talk turned to tourists and the effects they had on our
town. It was a subject Cary and Robert would have to
agree not to agree about.
That afternoon, Cary joined Robert and me in
the cafeteria for lunch. Robert asked him some
questions about boats and Cary talked right through
the warning bell. Every once in a while, Robert
glanced at me, his eyes wide with surprise. I simply
sat there, holding my breath, afraid that if I uttered a
word or moved a muscle; I might break the magic
spell.
But it didn't break. On the way home from
school that day, Cary offered that he might have been
wrong about Robert.
"Maybe it's because he's not from around here,"
he said. "At least he doesn't follow Adam Jackson and
that crowd. He asked me to give him some sailing
lessons. Maybe this coming weekend," he thought
aloud.
I bit down on my lip and nodded. I felt like
someone tiptoeing over a floor of fragile glass, afraid
that if I stepped down a little too hard, it would all
crack, shatter and break around me.
"You can come along, too, if you want," he
said. "That sounds like fun, Cary."
"We'll wait and see how the weather is. As for
it being fun, that will depend on how good a student
he is."
"Robert said he definitely could get away from
his work at the hotel?" I asked.
"Well, I promised I'd help him stain the inn's
back deck on Thursday. I've got some time," Cary
said.
"You would?" I couldn't believe what I was
hearing. "I mean, you do? I mean--"
"It's no big deal, Laura. If he holds his own,
we'll finish in an hour," Cary said, with more than a
hint of challenge in his voice.
On Wednesday, as Cary had promised, we picked up May and went to the Sea Marina. I introduced May to Robert's mother and taught her some sign language to use while Cary and Robert went out back with Robert's father to look at the dock. Whatever Cary recommended pleased and impressed Robert's father, who had only high praise for Cary afterward. We all enjoyed some cold lemonade on the front porch, while Cary and Robert's father continued
their talk about the building repairs.
May loved Robert's mother, who gave her an
inexpensive watch, still in working order, she had
found in a dresser drawer in one of the rooms when
they had first taken over the property. It had Roman
numerals and a pearl-like casing with a thin, leather
strap. May was so excited about it, she walked all the
way home with her wrist raised so she could admire it
better.
"Daddy's going to ask her about that," Cary
warned. "We can't tell May to lie."
To both of us, May was so precious and special,
the very thought of having her do something even
slightly sinful was upsetting. No one was purer in
spirit.
"Let her tell the truth, Cary. We haven't done
anything wrong. It's just being a good Christian to help other people. If Daddy says anything, we'll remind him of I Corinthians 13, 'And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth
me nothing.' "
Cary laughed.
"Serves him right for having us read the Bible
every night before dinner," he said.
Daddy did ask about the watch, but he didn't
understand May's answer and asked me. I told him the
truth. He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't like her taking things from strangers,
Laura," he said.
"Mrs. Royce isn't a stranger anymore, Daddy, at
least to me," I added. He didn't look happy, but he let
it go and May kept the watch.
On Thursday, Cary went home with Robert and
helped him stain the rear deck. I didn't go along, but I
was so nervous about the two of them together
without me around that I couldn't do anything but
stare out the window and wait for Cary to come home.
True to his word, he wasn't gone much more than an
hour. I hurried downstairs to greet him at the door. "You finished it already?" I asked as he stepped
up to our porch.
"What's the big deal?" he said with a shrug.
"Painting a hull, now that's a big deal."
"Did Robert think it was as easy as you did?" I
asked. I was really asking if they had gotten along. "He held his own," Cary replied. "I guess I'll
spend a few hours teaching him something about
sailing on Saturday," he added. "If you want to come
along--"
"Oh, Cary," I cried and embraced him. "Thank
you." I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
He stood there, frozen for a moment. It was
almost as if my kiss had burned him. We hadn't kissed
each other for some time, both of us self-conscious
about it. But I was like springwater gushing. I couldn't
help it.
"It's no big deal," Cary said almost angrily. "I'd
do it for anyone," he said. "I have to wash up." He hurried past me and up the stairs.
I knew I should be happy; I should feel very
good about it all, but there was a cold chill in the air.
It was as if Cary had left his shadow behind and that
shadow lingered over me, blocking out the sun. The next day at school, Robert announced that
his parents insisted he take off all of Saturday. "They said I haven't had a whole day off since
we all arrived, and since we're ahead of schedule . . ." "That's wonderful. Why don't we have a picnic
on the beach, Cary?" I suggested.
"All right. Here's the plan. We'll do the sailing
lessons late in the morning and then stop to picnic on
the beach around Logan's Cove."
"Logan's Cove? Where's that?" Robert asked.
Cary and I exchanged smiles.
"It's our secret place," I said. "Cary and I named
it Logan's Cove because practically no one else goes
there."
"It's about a half mile north of the bog," Cary
said. "We don't have to worry about tourists bothering
us."
"Oh," Robert said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Sounds secluded. I can't wait."
After our Bible reading at dinner that night,
Daddy paused before cutting the bread and glanced at
me.
"I hear you hope to make your landlubber
seaworthy," he said. I looked at Cary for a hint as to
what Daddy was really thinking, but Cary's face was a
closed book, unreadable.
"We're going to give him a lesson with the
Sunfish,"
I said.