Barefoot Girls (35 page)

“No!”

“Yes. Your Aunt Pam’s a pushover. All I had to do was butter her up. I’m surprised more people haven’t gotten the recipe out of her.”

“No one can. I can’t believe it!” Aunt Pam gave Daniel the recipe? She really couldn’t believe it. None of the Barefooters would part with it, no matter how abject the pleading or lavish the offers of gifts or money.

“But wait, there’s more!” He pulled out the familiar yellow bag from a local cheese shop in Greenwich and opened it slightly to show its contents. Inside were her favorite gourmet cheddar cheese straws, made fresh at the shop. She’d been dreaming about them lately, memories of the buttery crumbly texture and the rich cheesy flavor making her mouth water.

“Oh, no! I’ve been craving those so bad! How did you know?” She wanted to hug him. Her hands felt awkward in her pockets. She smiled at him extra hard in appreciation. He had traveled out to Greenwich just to get her favorite snack for her.

“And more…” he said, reaching into the box again and pulling out a small pile of magazines. Her favorite gardening magazines that she bought herself occasionally as a treat, he had gotten all of the latest issues.

“Oooo! Honey!” She restrained herself from reaching for them. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling.

“And for the grand finale…drum roll please….” Daniel pounded his fingers lightly on the table, smiling at her wickedly, and then reached into the box again. This time he pulled out a gift, which was wrapped so poorly she knew he had been the one to wrap it. He presented it to her with a little nodding bow. “Something in your honor.”

Now she would have to take her hands out of her pockets. What was she going to do? She couldn’t let him see.

She reached for the package quickly with her palms up. “Oh, I can’t believe this.” She used her right hand to do all the work, holding the package in such a way that it obscured her left hand. It made unwrapping much more awkward and difficult, and she felt his eyes upon her the whole time.  The package was rectangular, and feeling the edge, she could tell it was a frame. Tearing at it, she saw what looked like the cover of her book. He framed the cover? She tore off the rest of the paper. It was the cover, and just below it, a clipping of the bestseller list showing her novel near the very bottom. It clearly had been professionally framed and matted.

“We’ll have to redo it when it hits number one.”

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight and painful. “Oh, Daniel. How…it’s…”

“When I called your Aunt Pam to beg for the Mean Greens recipe, she told me your book hit. She wanted to give me a copy, she’d cleaned out the local Barnes and Noble, but, of course, I told her I’ve got one, already read it. Loved it. She asked all kinds of questions about it. She was so excited.”

Tears popped out Hannah’s eyes and fell on her cheeks, rolling down. “I-“

“Oh, don’t cry! You’re supposed to be happy. You should be jumping around! Or have you already heard? Damn, I wanted to be the one-“

Hannah cleared her throat. “My editor told me, on the phone the other day. Oh,” she said and paused. “This is so sweet of you. I can’t believe this! You always think of the best things. You’re right, I should be happy, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

She sighed, her breath hitching. “Oh, Daniel. It’s a mess. I was reading it again, and I’ve done a really horrible thing. It’s all about my mother. Somehow, some part of me was trying to get back at her. Hurt her. And now that it’s a bestseller, everyone’s going to read it: the Barefooters, all our friends, definitely my mom.  When she reads it, it’s going to kill her. I’ve been trying to figure out how to stop this, but-“

She started sobbing and then swallowed hard, trying to stop, not wanting him to see her like this. She convulsed, looking down at the patchy brown and green grass in the picnic area. When were they going to learn? Lawns were hopeless out here.

Daniel reached for the frame and took it gently out of her hands, placing it on the table. Then he wrapped his arms around her shaking form. “I know what needs to stop. You and your over-active imagination. It may be great thing when you’re writing fiction, but it’s not so great in real life. I’ve read it, remember? And I’ve met your mother. That creature-feature in your book is not your mother. You’ve been spending way too much time alone, that’s what it is. I know, I’ve done it, too.”

“You?” She found herself laughing through the tears. Daniel was the most social man she’d ever met. It was one of the things that attracted her to him: his joy in a riotous melee, his ability to socialize endlessly. When he was willing to stay in for the night with her rather than go to a party or out on the town again, she knew he was in love with her.

“Yes, me. Don’t sound so shocked. Even I like a little time alone. Mostly when I’m into a good book. But there have been a few times I went into hibernation, pissed off at the world, and ended up regretting it. Felt a little crazy after a few days. And how long have you been here? Two whole weeks by yourself? No wonder you’re starting to imagine things. “

She pulled away a little to look up at him, her breath hitching. “But I’m not imagining it.”

He took her chin between his fingers. “Yes, you are. Trust me.”

She stared into his dark brown eyes. Was he right? Maybe he was. Other than a few phone calls and that brief unpleasant interaction with Mr. McGrath, she’d been completely alone. Maybe it was wrong to spend so much time by herself, no matter how much she loved it. Maybe her beloved solitude was driving her crazy.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I am. So, are we going to get this party started? Am I allowed into your sacred hermitage?”

She laughed. It was silly, wasn’t it? “Of course! I can’t wait to see if you can make a real Mean Green.”

“I got all the secret ingredients…but you’ll have to cover your eyes.”

“What? Don’t I get to find out? But I’m their daughter!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head. “Sorry. Sworn to secrecy. And I’m supposed to burn the recipe and forget what I know after today. I’m not even supposed to tell your mother or other aunts.”

“Pam told you without their permission? Ooooh!”

“Yup. But she didn’t do it for me, she did it for you. She’s really worried about you. And about your mom.”

“What? What about my mother?”

He shrugged and released her, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I guess you’re not the only one out of the loop. Pam said she hadn’t been able to reach your mom for over a week. Usually, she calls right back. Pam’s worried.”

“What about the others? Haven’t they talked to her?”

“Pam called them, but neither had tried to reach her yet. They said they’d call. I guess, like you said, fall is usually when each of them is off doing their own thing.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, nodding slowly.  “That’s true, but I didn’t realize they really don’t talk after their annual vacation. Things must be different now that I’m grown up. When I was little they were always together – usually pitching in to babysit.”

“Well, maybe now that they’re all trying to get a hold of your mom, she’ll call back. She’s probably busy, too.”

Hannah nodded a doubtful side-to-side nod. No, her mother was probably bored and lonely. In Fairfield, she knew everyone and everyone knew her. She was Miss Popularity and Social Butterfly Extraordinaire. But her mother had hinted that things were different in New York, that her dreams of bon-bon eating and lounging around all day hadn’t lived up to her expectations. She hadn’t mentioned her new neighbors or any friends in the city. Now that she thought about it, her mother, who was usually bursting with the latest gossip about various friends and neighbors in Fairfield, was strangely mum in the last year, ever since she and Ben moved into that huge fancy apartment on Fifth Avenue overlooking the park.

“Enough about your mom. She’s fine. You’ll be fine. You two are going to patch things up. I saw the two of you when we were here for that weekend, and let me tell you, your mom is crazy about you. Just the way she looks at you, so proud. And you missed it, but she grilled me one morning.”

“What?”

“You were sleeping in and I stumbled downstairs looking for coffee. She was awake already, probably had a couple cups before I showed up. She was wide awake. As soon as I filled my mug, she dragged me out on the back stoop to sit and 'chat' as she said. Let me tell you, that was no chat. It was an interrogation. She got all the goods on me. She looked really serious, kinda scared me. But at the end, she smiled at me and said, ‘Good. You pass.’”

“No! Seriously? She said that?”

“Seriously. She was being really protective. It was scary, especially after I’d been around the fun-loving joke-telling version of your mom.”

Hannah sighed and said, “There are lots of versions of my mom.”

Daniel clapped his hands together and clasped them in front of him. “Okay, time to get cracking. We’ve got some Mean Greens to drink. Let the good times roll.” He put the items back in the box quickly and lifted it up, looking at her expectantly.

They grabbed his bag out of his rental’s trunk and were in the process of loading everything into the boat, when she spotted Mr. McGrath in his small motorboat with a dark-haired woman at his side approaching the community dock where they stood. As she covered her eyes with her tented hand in order to get a better look at the woman, the boat suddenly changed course, heading back toward the island. She could hear the woman’s raised shrill voice above his boat’s motor and it sounded like she was angry. What was going on? Was Mr. McGrath avoiding her? Was that his wife?

“Who was that? There are other people out here?” Daniel, also tenting his hand above his eyes, peered at the swiftly retreating boat.

“Yeah, a couple. I met the man the first day, when I arrived. He wasn’t very welcoming. Practically told me to go away.”

Daniel turned to look at her. “Really? That doesn’t sound right. I thought everyone was buddy-buddy around here?”

The boat was a miniature now in the distance. She turned back to him, shaking her head. “No, not really, not everyone. The down-islanders are like that, super social, but the up-islanders tend to keep to themselves. They’re up-islanders and I’m pretty certain they wanted to be alone this month. He said as much.”

“Huh,” he said. She looked at him and saw his eyes on her left hand, where it had been exposed thoughtlessly tenting her eyes, following it as it dropped to her side.

Chapter 29

Daniel looked at Hannah’s bare left hand and felt a dizzy dropping sensation that went from his head right down through the pit of his stomach. It was gone again, the ring he had spent every last penny of his savings on. The ring whose selection he had agonized over for weeks. The ring he had placed on her finger one perfect June evening and felt everything in his life slip into place.

He had made peace with what had happened that horrible night at her house when everything that was right went wrong and he had his first doubts about their future, the ring sitting in her palm. But he had renewed faith in her, no matter how frustrating these weeks apart had been.  Part of his faith was the true love he felt for this fascinating spectacular woman, something so powerful he knew he’d never felt it before, didn’t even know he was capable of it. Part of it was the reinforcement his friend Brian had unknowingly given him.

Brian, seeing his best bud begging off and staying home almost every night, started forcefully enlisting Daniel for wing-man duties whenever he was home, no matter how tired he was from his last scheduled run. They went out to all of their usual haunts as well as some of the new hot clubs, went to every party Brian had heard of, prowling the city like the old days. Except it wasn’t; everything was different. No matter how many beautiful women Brian threw at him, Daniel couldn’t muster the interest. He wanted Hannah. And, by juxtaposing the vapid socialites and idiotic teenage models against his brilliant bride-to-be, Brian had managed to make Daniel even more lovesick and desperate to see Hannah.

It had been on one of their nights out on the town, having a quick late dinner at Rosa Mexicana before heading over to a nearby party, when Daniel had picked up his margarita and a light bulb had flickered on in his head. He’d been trying to figure out how to see her; how he could distract her from the fact that he was crashing her retreat if he showed up at Captain’s. The ideas he’d had were good, but not good enough. Holding up his salt-rimmed glass he saw Hannah’s mother and aunts laughing and holding glasses filled with their own special margarita-like concoction up for a toast. The mighty Mean-Green, which he had tasted and loved, was legend on that island where they spent every summer, the closely-kept secret recipe unknown to anyone but the four women.

He slowly put down his drink on the table. What if he could get the recipe? If he was able to whip up a Mean Green and have a cocktail hour on the island with her, Hannah would love it. She would be amazed, too. He wanted to amaze her. But how would he get the recipe? He spent the rest of the night distracted, going through the motions of socializing as he tried to work out a solution. Brian noticed but, tired of trying to jolly Daniel along, ignored his friend’s mental absence.

The next morning, Daniel made the call after looking up Pam’s PR firm online. Pam had practically squealed with delight when she heard his voice. She told him all about the big news regarding Hannah’s book, something that had happened only recently. His confidence bolstered by her ebullient mood, he dived in and made his request. There was silence on the other end of the line. He waited, seconds ticking by. Oh, no. Maybe not.

“Pam?”

“Sorry, ah, I’m not supposed to give it out, but…God. I want you two to get together. Really? She won’t let you visit? That was one of our rules: you had to be there, at least some of the time!”

“No, she won’t. She won’t even really talk to me on the phone. I mean a minute here and there, but not like we usually talk.”

Another silence on the line. This time Daniel resisted the urge to say anything. Let her think, let the balance tip.

He heard Pam take a loud breath. He crossed his fingers.

“That’s it. There have to be exceptions to every rule,” Pam said. “Now, promise you’ll never tell anyone. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t tell the other Barefooters. And you’ll have to burn the recipe afterward and forget everything. Brain dead, or I’ll kill you - I swear.”

Once Daniel was off the phone, promises made and abject appreciation offered up, he was on the run. It had been exciting, running from place to place, having new ideas while so much adrenalin pumped through his body. It reminded him of his first flight, the incredible rush and the ecstasy that followed. The idea for the framed cover and portion of the bestseller list had hit him right before he left to drive to Greenwich to get the cheese straws. He’d grabbed his own copy of the book and got online and printed out the list before heading out the door.  They framed it while he waited, paying more than he should have in an expensive shop in Greenwich just to save time and be on the road to Hannah sooner.

Everything had gone smoothly and he practically sang while driving out to the island with the salt-scented wind blowing through the windows of his rental car. He’d been so pumped up, he didn’t let her first hesitant reaction to his arrival bother him, focusing on her second enthusiastic and sexy reaction when they’d finally embraced. He’d relished her girlish joy over his gifts, looking shy with her hands behind her back.

Her hands behind her back. She had known all along, been aware of her bare finger. How could she? How was it so easy for her to take off his ring again?

He looked at her, hurt and anger bubbling up in his throat, burning into his head. “I can’t believe it.” He was shocked at how rough and low his voice sounded.

Her face twisted in apology, lips turning down. “Oh, honey, I-“

“No,” he said, shaking his head hard once. “I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t. You’ve gotten everything that you wanted. You wanted to be alone. I left you alone. You said this was about you and your mother, and I believed you. What an idiot.”

“No! You’re not-“

“No, it’s my turn. I’ve been there for you. I’m here now, just asking for a little bit of you. Just a little bit. A drink, a laugh, a hug. Not much. And you can’t even wear my ring.” His breath caught and he forced down the threatening wobble in his voice. “You don’t want to marry me, do you? Just say it.”

“I do! Daniel, please-“

“Then where’s the ring? Where is it?”

“It’s…I just…please understand…”

Daniel turned away, unable to look at her pleading face another minute. He looked at the tall tasseled grasses that flanked either side of entrance to the dock and felt another pang. How he’d loved this place when they’d visited this summer. How he’d felt like he was coming home. It wasn’t just that the island was beautiful in a natural rough way that was just his style; it was the warmth of everyone, the humor, the blatant athleticism and partial nudity of its inhabitants in their swim trunks and bathing suits. He loved the moist salt air that clung to everything, the silvery minnows darting through the murky shallows, the briny-sweet taste of clams on the half shell eaten sitting on the steps of Pam’s house.

“I can’t do this anymore, begging you, waiting and being ignored,” he said, turning back to her, and then pointing at the box in the boat. “Keep it. I’ve got the recipe in my pocket, so I’ll just burn it and forget it when I get home. Can you hand up my bag?”

“You - you’re not going to stay?”

Her mournful voice was a lasso, pulling him. He shook it off. “No. I’m done. I’m not forcing myself on you another day. You want to be alone, fair enough. All I can say is-“

He forced himself to look deeply in her eyes even though it hurt to look at her at all. “You need to decide if you want me in your life, Hannah. I won’t wait around forever.”

“But I do!”

He flicked a look down at her left hand. “Do you? You have a funny way of showing it. Can I have my bag?”

She made a little whimpering sound as she went to pick up his little duffel bag. He tried to harden his heart, but just that sound alone killed him. He had to get away, or the tears would come, whether he wanted her to see them or not. The barriers were breaking down. He rarely cried and never in public, and of all people Hannah was the last person he could stand witnessing his weakness, the very source of his misery.

He took the bag from her and straightened up. “Can I get out?”

“Oh! I forgot to lock the gate!”

“Good. Lock it when I’m gone. Goodbye Hannah. I’m not going to call you. You call me. When you’re ready, if you ever are. But don’t call me unless you’re sure. Don’t call unless you’re ready to wear my ring and be a part of my life forever, not just when it’s convenient.”

Her lips opened and shut, but she didn’t say anything. He watched a tear roll down her cheek. He tore his eyes away, turned on his heel and walked up the dock, the hollow thumping of his feet on the boards making his throat ache even more, remembering the free feeling of his bare feet on the boardwalk only two months earlier, Mean Green in hand, laughing uncontrollably at Hannah’s mother’s lewd jokes, decorum thrown to the wind.

Chapter 30

“Who was that? Answer me!”

Phil focused on the approaching island. Just get away, before Rose found out who it was on the dock. The farther away they got, the less likely she’d recognize the O’Brien girl.

“Phil!”

He turned and looked back at the dock. Just a toy now with two tiny dolls on it.

“Are you going to answer? Am I a ghost here?”

He looked over at his wife. The tracks from her fingernails on her forehead and cheeks had healed to a dark pink, the scabs falling off two days before. Rose’s face was shiny from the antibiotic ointment she applied to the wounds hourly. It was too much, too often, but she wouldn’t listen to him and his silly warnings.

“No, you’re not a ghost. I hear you.”

“Who were those people? Are they staying on the island?”

Now he had no choice. He had to lie. He couldn’t chance it with the truth. “Nah, I bet they’re just here to close up one of the houses. No one ever comes out here now.” That part was true, anyway. He turned away and focused his eyes up-island, steering the boat homeward.

“Well, aren’t we going to go to Jones? Why did we turn around?”

Phillip cursed himself. It was his idea, taking a walk on the boardwalk and the beach at Jones Beach - a way to drag her off of that porch and away from the magazines and her cell phone. She’d packed a battery-operated charger this year and had been spending the last week sitting on the porch either on the phone to Dr. Omin or Jackie. Both of them were filling her head so full of nonsense, it spilled out of her mouth whenever she talked. Jackie-said-this and Dr. Omin-said-that and beauty inside, beauty outside and she was never never never going to get old and aren’t-you-recycling-that?