Blue Jeans and Coffee Beans (6 page)

“Wait,” Paige said, pulling the bottle back, spilling some of the wine as she topped off her glass. “Me, first.”

“You ever steer one of these before?” Neil asked Maris. Jason reached past her and turned the wheel, adjusting the boat’s direction.

“No!” Maris answered. “Is this safe? I can barely see where I’m heading.”

“Just take it real easy, no sudden turns. Move the wheel in the direction you want to go, and keep it smooth.” From behind, Jason steered with her. “Let’s head her toward the beach.” He pulled back on the throttle as they began to turn parallel to the shoreline. Together they navigated the vessel to a spot just beyond the big rock that vacationers liked to swim out to.

“Easy does it,” Neil said. “Slow her way down now.” He turned back to Lauren. “You want a turn at the wheel?”

“Shit, no,” Lauren answered, downing her wine and standing to look out behind them at the sea. The sky above was heavy with thousands of stars and a nearly full moon painting a swath of amber light across the water.

Once the boat stopped, Neil threw the anchor over and nodded to Kyle, who kicked off his sandals and dove right in.

Lauren yelled out, racing up to the bow, then carefully walking alongside the cabin, holding onto the rails and following along as Kyle swam. “What the heck are you doing?”

Kyle headed for the rocky outcropping, then called out for Neil to throw over the bottle rockets. “Fireworks, Ell. On the water. Just for you.”

“Let’s get this show started,” Vinny said from the bow. He peeled off his shirt and dove in too, making his way over to Kyle with an empty bottle to set the rockets in. They lit off three, one by one, streaming them high into the night sky.

Floating on Long Island Sound this summer night, and floating in time, Lauren thought it’s all the same somehow. Both give a sense of unseen motion moving them along together. The rockets’ reflection illuminated the still water beneath the anchored boat, doubling the red, green and gold sparkles until they were surrounded by trails of color wavering in the sky and sea.

“Hey!” A voice rang out at the same time a spotlight beam caught them in its path. “You kids, what are you up to over there?”

“Shit,” Kyle said, jumping off the rock into the water as Vinny lit another rocket. “Let’s get out of here, man,” he called out as he swam back to the boat. The smaller boat with the light approached theirs so quickly that Kyle barely made it aboard before Neil took the helm, opened up the throttle and ripped through the open water.

“Hey man, Vincenzo’s not back!” Kyle called to Jason.

They all turned to see Vinny treading water in the dark. “What’s going on?” Matt asked as he climbed out of the cabin, Eva trailing behind wearing his long sleeved denim shirt over her tank top and shorts.

Matt and Jason leaned over the side of the boat watching Vinny, while Kyle, dripping seawater all over the deck, walked closer to Neil. “Quit horsing around and go back,” he said.

“And get busted?” Instead Neil tossed Kyle a life ring. “Throw it to him!”

“What? You’re crazy! He’s in the water!”

Neil steered the boat a little closer to Vinny. “Throw it, Kyle. Now!”

As Kyle flung the life ring, Neil turned the boat away and expertly gunned it, slicing through the water faster than the small boat in pursuit, quickly losing it behind them.

Lauren looked at Paige when she began laughing on the bow of the boat. “You think this is funny?” she asked.

Paige’s laughter grew until she doubled over with it, then leaned over the side rails with a groan. “Oh, I’m not feeling too good now.”

“I
knew
this would happen with all that wine. What a mess.” Lauren looked from her to Matt and Jason sitting on the rear seats, snapping open cold beers and leaning back without a worry. “And what’s wrong with you guys?” Lauren asked. “Vinny will drown out there.”

“Someone had to be sacrificed,” Jason answered in the dark, looking out in the direction of Vinny.

“Neil!” Lauren called. “Go back!”

Kyle took over the helm and Neil headed to the cabin, emerging in a minute with two shot glasses and a pint of tequila. He poured a shot for Lauren. “Here. Drink this.

You’ll stop worrying fast.” “You’re kidding, right? I mean, Paige is sick, and what about Vinny? If he drowns, I swear, Neil.” She took the shot glass from him, ready to toss it overboard.

“Hey, it’s all right. Vinny’s the friggin’ captain of his swim team. He’s just at the rock and can make it to shore in five minutes, no problem. Relax.” He touched his glass to Lauren’s and downed his shot, holding her gaze until she did the same. “Cheers,” Neil mouthed, raising his hand to her hair, tangling his fingers in it for a long moment before turning back to the helm.

“Shit,” Lauren said under her breath, touching her hair where Neil had before turning to see Matt and Jason sitting side-by-side at ease, watching her fret. They looked from her, to each other, before tipping their cans together in some toast of collusion.

Moments, expressions, phrases of that epic July Fourth night take shape in her mind like images under the wash of a chemical developer. Lauren puts away the ketchup and mustard and wipes down the kitchen countertops with Eva still taking pictures of everyone. If they had snapped photos that long-ago night, would they see a hint of what was to come? Of her and Kyle sitting at either end of the picnic table, miles apart? Of Matt formally shaking Vinny’s hand when Vinny arrived today with Paige and their kids? Would there be a premonition of the group photo caught in a gaping silence mid-conversation with no one really meeting the other’s eye? Can they ever go back? Can they ever be who they were to one another on a different July Fourth? Now one of their circle is dead; another unemployed; still another missing a leg; while Eva is still missing a mother, ever seeking some connection she longs for from behind that camera of hers, every click a search.

“Well, well. Look who’s finally arrived,” Maris says while washing a few serving pieces in the kitchen sink. “I wondered if he’d show up today.”

Lauren looks over Maris’ shoulder out the window to see Jason sitting at the picnic table beside Matt. His dark hair is still damp from a shower as he talks to Kyle across from him. She lets out a low whistle. “My oh my. Looks just like his brother. Those Barlow boys were always so easy to look at.” Eva and Maris turn to her in a stony silence, with Eva giving her a flick of a dishtowel. “What. I can look, can’t I?”

“No, you cannot,” Maris insists. “You know, I haven’t seen you guys in years, and I noticed that you and Kyle seemed tense today, Lauren. I hate to think you’re having issues, so maybe you should think about your husband, who, for your information, isn’t too hard on the eyes either.” Maris takes her by the shoulders. “Keep your focus. And sheesh, eat something, would you? You’re skin and bones.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lauren, wiping a pot dry, walks over to the back door and looks out as Jason opens a beer and toasts it to Matt’s. And there it is in that one moment, that one snapshot, that glimpse of the past filled with all their story. “Remember the time we stole that boat?”

“Huh,” Eva answers. “What I remember is spending the rest of the summer sweating it out sanding and painting fresh whitewash on the boardwalk after we got caught.”

“Oh man,” Maris says. “And wasn’t it the hottest summer ever?”

“Vinny had the last laugh, didn’t he?” Lauren asks. “The only one not on the boat when we got busted. He got off free as a bird.”

And somehow, Lauren knows. There’ll be something of their friendship in those photographs Eva will surely post on Facebook. Some reminder will be caught in a flash, some memory of a seventeen-year-old Maris in her tie-dye jeans, mid-leap jumping onto that cabin cruiser. There will be dripping Kyle looking back at Vinny in the dark water. Lauren holding Paige’s long hair as she got sick over the boat’s side. Neil uttering
Shit
when they pulled back into the marina to find Lipkin and the police waiting there. And Kyle taking her hand, helping her off the boat, then not letting go all night that summer they began dating. Oh there will be a photo album of memories, of spirits, in the July Fourth moments Eva caught today, if they look hard enough beyond everything else that has happened since.

.

Chapter Six

S
tars emerge from the black cocoon of night far over Long Island Sound. Vacationers walk past on the boardwalk, and on the beach the last of Kyle’s bottle rockets blow into the sky. He runs backward a few steps, unsure of its wavering course, until it whistles into multi-colored oblivion over the dark waters.

“Show’s over, folks,” Matt says when he and Kyle return to the others sitting together on the boardwalk. Matt sits beside Eva, slipping his arm around her shoulder. “This is just like old times.”

“Not really. Twenty years ago,” Kyle says, running his hand back through his hair, “we’d be headed to Foley’s right about now.”

“Instead we’re all ready to go to sleep,” Vinny answers. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. A glow-in-the-dark Frisbee he found on the beach hangs loosely from his fingertips.

Paige stands and looks at them all sitting there, the boats in the marina behind them shining in the moonlight. “Well come on people. What are you, a bunch of duds? I’ve got some rock and roll left in me. How about a drink or something? A beach toast on the boardwalk? Hm?” Her gaze moves across their faces. “Like a summertime Auld Lang Syne? For old acquaintances, guys.”

“I’m game,” Maris says, punching the air. It’s what she and Eva had hoped for, connecting somehow with everyone again. Jason sits beside her and she gives his shoulder a nudge. “What about you?”

He looks first at her, then past her at everyone else. “Shit, let’s do this then.”

“Where do you keep the good stuff, Eva?” Paige asks. “I’ll go back and get it.”

“Plastic cups are in the cabinet over the fridge, and there’s a bottle of wine right on the kitchen counter. You can’t miss it.”

“I’ll help,” Lauren says. “I want to check on the kids, anyway.”

“Use the canvas tote on the porch,” Eva tells them. “Put everything into that.”

Kyle stands and steps onto the sand, watching them go. He kicks off his sneakers and heads down toward the water.

“Hey,” Vinny calls out, standing on the boardwalk. “Heads-up.” He flings the Frisbee to Kyle, who barely catches it flying over his head. Vinny runs onto the sand and Kyle throws the Frisbee back to him. On the night beach, it softly glows between them.

Maris watches for a moment, then slips out of her sandals. She joins Kyle and Vinny and when she does, the others follow. A few groans and stretches come as they jockey for position in a circle on the beach. The Frisbee wobbles and does a few dives and loops.

“Hey, Officer,” Vinny calls out. Matt leaps and makes the catch, immediately turning around and spinning the glowing Frisbee to Jason. He catches it easily and considers Vinny waving his long arms wildly for it before sending it in his direction.

Vinny dives, landing in the sand. “Damn. Good throw.” He stands, sweeps the sand from his shirt and eyes the group. He squints into the night, takes aim at Kyle, then flies the Frisbee to Eva. “Ha! Faked you out, Kyle,” he yells.

When Eva spins it over all their heads, Vinny and Kyle chase it until Vinny lunges and hits it out of the air, whooping and falling on top of it.

“You’re a maniac, Vincenzo,” Kyle says, retreating back to his space in the circle.

“What’s that, sour grapes?” Vinny stands and gives it all he has, whistling the Frisbee over Kyle’s head. Kyle goes for it but stumbles over his own feet so that the Frisbee heads for the water, directly between Maris and Jason. They both run for it.

“Look out!” Vinny covers his eyes and sinks to his knees.

Maris calls “I got it!” just as Jason yells “It’s mine!” right when they trip on each other and fall hard. Maris turns on her back, lying flat on the beach and laughing as Jason pulls an arm from beneath her.

“I got it,” Jason tells her, catching his breath and laughing at the same time.

“You cheated.” Maris looks over at him, grinning. Her clip has come loose from her hair, which now fans out in the sand.

“Cheated? How?” He brushes a strand of hair from across her forehead, his face close to hers in the dark.

“You tripped me,” she insists.

“I did not.”

“Did to.”

“So are you all right?”

She squints at him in the darkness. The touch of his fingertips lingers on her forehead, but she had felt the prosthesis against her leg during their tumble, too.

“Are
you
okay?” she asks in all seriousness now.

“Barely.” He sits up and wraps his arms around his knees, the Frisbee hanging from his fingers.

“Well,” she says, her grin returning. “Serves you right.” She sits up beside him then, still winded. “I haven’t had this kind of fun in years.”

“What’s going on over there? We playing Tag now?” Vinny calls out.

Jason stands and brushes himself off. “Matt, catch! You’re it.” Jason whizzes the Frisbee to Matt and Eva moving away from the boardwalk, away from the friends, effectively ending the game. Matt and Eva run after it and don’t return.

Kyle looks back to the boardwalk, then sits in the sand near the water. “I was watching The Weather Channel,” he says, his voice steady in the dark. “They predict a hot summer on the East coast. It’s something to do with the waters in the Florida Gulf being warm this year, and that warmth will move north. Kind of like El Niño, but it’s not. El Niño is in the Pacific region and they referred more to the Gulf.”

“Some people say a warm summer means an active hurricane season,” Jason says.

“I read somewhere that scientists can track El Niño by studying tree rings. Depending on the tree’s location, they find evidence of El Niño in ring patterns that mean a rainier or drier season than normal.”

Jason sits beside Maris on the sand. “He’ll talk about anything but his life,” he says under his breath.

Maris looks over at Kyle explaining weather patterns. Everyone saw the way Lauren kept her distance from him today, and the way Kyle watched her, their words tense. He goes on now about the details of the weather phenomenon, with no sign of Lauren returning to the beach.

Jason presses his fingers against his eyes before sliding them down his face and behind his neck as he drops his head.

“Hey,” Maris asks. “You okay?”

He looks out over the Sound. “Yeah, thanks,” he says. “I had a nice night.”

She looks to see what he is watching over the water. The moon throws a golden path across the Sound and in its light, a tugboat moves across the horizon. Lighthouse beams flash on opposite shores and the waves retreat with the outgoing tide. She jumps a little when he reaches over and presses his hand over hers before withdrawing back to himself. All the while, his eyes never leave Long Island Sound, as though he’s boarded a distant ship taking him somewhere far away from Stony Point.

Farther down the beach, a few boats are moored just beyond the swimming area, their cabins glowing with yellow light. Beyond the boats, the lighthouse at Gull Island faintly beckons. An occasional faraway call of a foghorn moves through the night.

“We really can’t go back, can we?” Eva asks as they walk at the water’s edge. Something about the very act of doing that, walking at the edge of the sea, always stirs her questions. “Once we’ve left a place, or a time, it’s gone, isn’t it? It’s just a memory.”

“Maybe we didn’t really want to go back to that time.”

“Not even for a day? It seems sad not to.” She stops near the end of the beach and sits in the sand. The shadows of the patch of woods reach beside her.

Matt sits with her. “Sad? If we have good memories, at least we have that.”

Eva considers what Maris told her about having so little. But sometimes happiness is simply all about the memories. And Maris comes from a home of memories where she at least knew her family; she knows that love existed, even though her mother’s love was cut short. But still, it happened, that love. She has the memory.

Matt stands and takes her hand, walking back near the lagoon grasses.

“Matt? What are you doing?”

“Time travelling.” He leads her to long shadows on the beach where no one will pass.

“We can’t do this,” Eva says, resisting a little, knowing exactly which memory he wants to travel to. “Come on, we’re not kids anymore, Matt.”

“I’ve got a pretty good memory of being a kid, though.” His words come through a smile she feels through his lips and she closes her eyes at his touch. The lagoon grasses whisper behind them, the waves break and the shadow of the forest hides them. Matt tangles his fingers through her hair and kisses her once, twice, then again. His hands move to her face and she feels his lips touch her eyes, her cheeks, her throat.

The black sky spreads over them, stars twinkling. It is amazing how the sadness, the longing, always leaves when she turns to him like this. Under the cover of a summer night, she takes the teenaged memory of love he offers. At that moment, she no longer cares where or who she really is, wanting only to lie in the sand and feel each soft grain against her skin, feel the damp sea air, the heat of the July night, feel everything physical, nothing emotional, every pore of her skin covered by Matt and the beach and summer. All that matters is the sensation.

Maris opens the door to the telephone ringing in the kitchen.

“Where have you been?”

“Scott?”

“I’ve been calling all day. Your cell, the cottage. Haven’t you been home at all?”

“It’s the Fourth of July. I was at Eva’s barbecue.”

“This late?”

Scott would never understand hanging out on the beach, walking on the boardwalk, the spontaneous game of Frisbee. He’s lived in the city all his life. “It’s such a beautiful night here, we took a walk on the beach. That’s all.”

He exhales a long breath. “I’m sorry, Maris. I’ve just been trying to reach you all day and I worried when it got late.”

His worry isn’t about a cookout or her being out all day. It is that she hasn’t given him an answer, hasn’t told him how beautiful the ring looks and that she can’t stop showing it off. Oh, she knows exactly where his worry stems from—that one velvet box sitting on her dresser.

“Well, I’m fine,” she says. “Really.”

“Good then. Okay.” A second passes. “So how was the cookout?”

Maris sits on a wicker stool at the breakfast counter. She reaches up and opens a white shutter over the window. The evening sky fills her view. “Eva invited some old friends. We all grew up together here and it was nice to see everyone again.”

“Anyone I should be concerned about?”

“What? No, Scott. Just old friends with lots of catching up to do. It’s been twelve years since I’ve been here.”

“And almost a month since you’ve been here. I’m going crazy missing you. You’ll be ready to leave next Friday, right?”

Her car will be tuned up for the drive, this rented cottage will be closed up, Matt and Eva will help her ship the packed boxes she kept from her father’s estate and will temporarily take in Madison. “I will.” It is Thursday night. She has seven days left. Seven days of tending flower boxes brimming with red geraniums and snow white petunias. Of throwing windows open to sea breezes and walking her dog along the high tide line. Of finishing Eva’s redecorating. Of sitting in a sand chair, sketch pad and pastels beside her.