Galveston (36 page)

He was in bad humor on Sunday afternoon because, as he explained, the music hadn't gone to his satisfaction during services. I was sitting in the congregation and heard it all, and could find no fault beyond the fact Alice Michaelson's voice was screechy. Alice is the soprano soloist. As far as I'm concerned, her voice is always screechy, but Nick thinks otherwise, so I never argue.

“Oh, it was a lot of things,” he told me peskily. “The acolytes started down the aisle too soon on the recessional—I've told them time and again to wait until we begin the second stanza—and the baritone section was too loud on the Brahms, near the end. Did you notice?”

“No, but if you say so …”

“Well, they were. I guess we'll have to work on that next rehearsal. It doesn't matter, though, only ten per cent of what I say ever soaks in anyway.”

“Maybe you shouldn't be such a perfectionist. After all, they're only volunteers. Maybe they sense your displeasure, so they don't try as hard as they might.”

“I just wish we could have maybe three professionals, like some churches. They'd provide the kind of backbone we need.”

“We can't afford them, you know that.”

“How well … Let's not discuss it anymore.”

“All right, if that's the way you want it.”

“Aw, Serena, don't be that way. You know, after we're married you're going to have to be my sounding board about the choir and everything. A husband has to tell his problems to someone, and that's what wives are for, listening. Don't let me bully you into getting mad.”

“Nick, I do think it might be well if you didn't take for granted I'm going to marry you. After all, I did say I hadn't made up my mind.”

“If not me, then whom? That smart aleck trumpet player, or whatever, who ate with us the other night? Surely you wouldn't find him more palatable than me.”

I said nothing.

“Then you would? Well, that's just fine! I suppose there's no need in me staying around here, if you're busy pining after him.”

“I guess not, if you feel that way.”

“Let me tell you something, Serena, men like that are not as great as you might think. He'll never belong to anyone, mark my word, and don't get your hopes up.”

“As you said, feeling that way, you might as well go. And don't bother ever coming back.”

He softened then, as I knew he would. “Oh, let's not be silly. Look, I'm a bit on edge today. Maybe I ought to go home a little early. I'm not good company when I've problems with my music. Forgive me?”

“What is there to forgive?”

“I knew you'd understand. Well, see you next week.” He leaned over and brushed his lips across my cheek. “I've every confidence you'll come to your senses like a good girl, Serena.”

He didn't appear to mind seeing himself to the door.

Monday: the beginning of a new week, and new hope.

As we passed the band members' beach playground, James reported, “No one over there.” My heart fell. Hard as I'd tried not to expect to see Roman, I knew I wouldn't take another deep breath until we'd spent our morning at the Fischer place and returned home. Dazedly, I put the key into the lock, yet it wouldn't turn. “Here, let me,” said James, and gently worked it to the right, then pushed the gate wide open. He looked up at me. “Nothing wrong with the lock.”

Porky, anxious for a run today, pulled away from him then, and took off across the lawn.

“I'll get him,” he said.

“Please do. I wouldn't want him trampling the flower beds, heaven knows.”

“Don't worry,” he called, already halfway across the yard, and I wondered why it was that, when one important matter goes awry, everything else must go the same way, like a deck of cards blown by the wind. I walked down the pier and carelessly threw down my bag, which landed on its side, dangerously close to the edge. The bag was a gift from one of Marybeth's European trips a year or so ago, part of it leather, part some sort of heavy black carpet with a brushed velvet design interwoven. It was really too fine a piece of luggage to be thrown around, taken to the beach or to dancing, yet it was the only bag I had. I righted it, pulling it far over to keep it from getting wet, then pulled out my swimming cap.

Now we were here, I just wanted to go home. I would, I decided, stay long enough only for the refreshment of a quick dip in the water. Somehow, even this place I loved held no attraction for me now. It would be just as well when Marybeth came back home and winter blew in, and I went back to spending my mornings crocheting for the annual fall bazaar at the church.

There was a sound, coming from the fence. Probably nothing, yet …

Again. I kept looking ahead. If it was Roman, I wasn't going to appear anxious.

“Serena, this confounded gate is locked again. Do I have to climb over?”

A chill went up the sides of my neck, and I wanted to shout and run and laugh all at the same time. Instead, I walked calmly across the lawn and opened the gate.

“Oh, I didn't know you were coming by.”

“I could make excuses for not coming before, but I won't,” he said, and we walked together back down the pier. I wanted to tell him it was all right, that I understood, that I was so happy he was here now it didn't matter a whit what had kept him away before.

“It's all right, you don't have to. We didn't have a scheduled date, or anything.”

“One thing I like about you, Serena, you're not demanding,” he said, and sat down beside me on the towel. “I can't abide demanding women, and you can always tell in a hurry if they're that way.”

“Maybe you just didn't want to come,” I said, looking ahead at James, who'd apparently seen Roman enter the yard, and circled around the other way to go into the water.

“You're right. I didn't want to come. But not for the reasons you might guess. I've been doing some thinking for the past few days. I decided it was no good for us to try and make anything of it. You'd only wind up being hurt because I won't be around that long, and I couldn't even promise to be back next summer. That isn't much to offer, is it?”

“No. Is that what you came to tell me?”

“Yes. I had it practiced, all for presentation in my usual fickle manner. And you would go on looking straight ahead—I expected that—and say it didn't matter, why should I think it did? Then I would make my exit, as I have many times before …”

Porky now came sniffing up to Roman, and, satisfying himself everything was all right, trotted up the pier a few feet and jumped into the water, gliding out toward James. The morning sun moved away a cloud, and trekked across the water's surface toward us, warming my arms. I kept looking ahead.

“Well, I guess it's obvious my plan didn't work,” Roman said finally, “which is curious because it always has before.”

I couldn't look at him; had no idea what to expect.

“Will you look at me?” he said, so then I looked.

“Now I see you, slumped down on this pier with your ridiculous ruffled headdress and wearing that bathing suit designed to tantalize the hell out of me, I can't—come here.”

Then he put his arms around me and kissed me in a way I'd never been kissed before, and I was left breathless when he finally released me, and could do nothing but stare at him.

“There,” he said. “Now you know all my resolve has gone out with the tide. Oh, why did I ever have to—?”

Then James, who'd swallowed too much salt water in one gulp, began coughing loudly, trying to hold Porky at bay while he cleared his lungs.

“The barnacle,” said Roman to me, then called to James, “Careful, old man, don't try to drink up the Gulf of Mexico all in one day.” Then to me again, “He really is a good kid. I just wish … could you walk me back to the gate?”

“So soon?”

“We've a special rehearsal this morning, something new on tonight's show.”

We walked to the edge of the yard, and looked at each other through the iron bars of the fence. “Look, I'm not the milk-toasty type, like your friend Nick,” he said. “If you're afraid of someone less gentle and certainly less stable, you'd better forget me and latch onto him. I can't offer you the same things he can, things women generally want, and wouldn't if I could because that kind of life just isn't for me.”

“No.”

He smiled and said less forcefully, “All right then, I'll see you in the morning.” He has a mysterious smile that tells nothing of the thoughts behind it.

“Yes, after class.”

He turned and walked away then, and I brushed a tear from my face. I remember looking down in wonder at the wet place on my hand, for I hadn't realized I was even close to crying.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, I saw him briefly, in much the same manner. He pleaded rehearsals, some trouble with the new music, but I think I knew even then it was James's presence that kept him from staying. Maybe, too, a reluctance to go too far too soon. Anyway, it didn't matter because he kept coming every day, and he needn't have if he didn't want to see me.

By Friday I was trying to figure a way of getting down there without James, yet avoid revealing anything to him or anyone else about why I now wanted to go to the beach alone. But then on Friday night, Dad stepped in, and everything blew up in my face.

Chapter
7

Dad had been drinking before he came home that evening, probably to bolster his courage, for he never found it easy to argue with me or anyone else. I was taken completely unaware, happily making a pot of stew in the kitchen, when I heard him come into the door.

“Oh, hello, have a seat. Mail's on the counter there—something from Blum Hardware, and a bill from Magnolia Meat Market, I think—have a good day?”

“Nan, I've got to talk to you. Please, come and sit down.”

I looked around at him then, and saw the flushed face, the glassy eyes.

“What is it?”

“Before I begin, I hope you'll appreciate how hard it is for me to say this to you. You know, I love you more than anything in the world except your mother, and—”

“All right. Go on.”

“I want you to promise me something, Serena. That you won't see that young musician anymore.”

I was too stunned to answer at first, and after a moment, rose from my chair and walked back to the stove. Best not to show my face. “I don't know what you're talking about,” I said.

“Simply that, Nan. You see, that young man has a rather—well—unsavory reputation around here, and I don't think it would be well if you were to be seen with him.”

“But how—?”

“Never mind. I didn't check on him intentionally, I want you to understand that. I respect your judgment far more than that. Just believe that I heard from a reliable source some goings-on that took place a summer or so ago, and I don't want to relate them to you. They're, well, indelicate. Believe me, if you knew, you would readily agree he isn't the sort you ought to be involved with.”

“How can you pass judgment on Roman Cruz? As far as we're concerned, all he has done is to rescue a boy being attacked by a group of man-of-war, and that was an act of common decency.”

“I'm not passing judgment, Nan. I know that, like every man, this young fellow has some good in his character. It's only that, you know what could happen if it got around you were seeing him. Think of my position in the Church. I simply cannot afford to do anything to jeopardize it. We have to live on my wages as a priest, you know.”

“I can't believe you're saying this to me. Of all the unfairness! You're doing the same thing that you would condemn in others. All we've done is talked a few times down at the beach. James has been right there, within earshot and sight, each time.

“Who's been talking to you? Was it Nick?”

“Please, Serena, don't act this way. It's none of your affair whom I've been speaking with. I had no idea you would take it so hard. After all, you could hardly have gotten to know him well at this point. Surely it won't be so difficult to—”

“Claire, then. Has she been snooping around?”

He put up a hand. “I can't betray a confidence, you know that. Can't you trust my judgment, Nan? You always did before.… No, it isn't to be, is it? I can see it in your face.

“Very well, then, consider it an order if you want. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but maybe now you can see the importance in what I am telling you.”

When I failed to reply, he tried to mitigate the blow. “Besides, I know you wouldn't want to hurt Nick, and what would he think if he knew about your seeing someone else?”

“I've a feeling he already does,” I said, but he didn't seem to hear.

“You two are the perfect couple—everyone says so—and you'll never find a finer man or a better Christian than Nick Weaver. We're fortunate to have someone of his talents at St. Christopher's, and I've felt so lucky that you two seem fond of each other.”

“Why don't you say what you really mean, Dad? In time, we'll marry and move in here with you and Mother, and everything will be just dandy, because I'll be around to take care of her—”

“Serena, how dare you say such a thing! You owe your mother every bit of kindness it is within your power to give, and don't ever forget it,” he said, then paused before continuing. “Of course, I had entertained the idea of you and Nick staying here awhile. There's plenty of room, and lots of other young couples do this sort of thing when they're first married, and trying to get their feet on the ground.

“But the very idea—you almost seem to accuse me of using you, as though you have no obligation whatever toward your dear mother.”

I could see it getting out of hand then, and knew before long we'd both be saying things for which we would be sorry later. His mind was made up about Roman. There was no use trying to change it, or throwing a fit in hopes of getting my way.