Summer at Oyster Bay: A gorgeous feel good summer romance (8 page)

“Have you told Gram?”

“I didn’t have to. She could tell. But I haven’t admitted to anything. I’m just not ready to talk about it. I want to see if I can convince him first, although it’s not working…

“Where is our wine?” she asked with a laugh, changing the subject. Emily let her, but she wasn’t feeling any better about the situation with Jeff and her sister.

“Gram has probably held Charlie hostage with some old story of hers. We’d better save him.” Emily and Rachel walked up to the door.

They entered the kitchen and Gram was at the stove, stirring the beans in a deep silver pot with one hand while she leaned delicately on her cane with the other. She was staring at Charlie, her face serious.

Charlie’s face didn’t look much lighter. Both of them nearly jumped when Emily and Rachel came in. Empty glasses were sitting on the counter; Charlie hadn’t even poured any wine.

“Everyone doing okay?” Emily asked.

Both nodded.

“I needed help with my beans,” Gram said. “I couldn’t… get the can open.”

There seemed to be tension in the room—she could feel it. Emily grabbed two glasses, filled them, and handed one to Charlie, wondering if she was making more of the scene she’d just witnessed than what it was. It certainly looked like more than opening a can of beans. Without any discussion about it, she and Charlie headed outside. Jeff had added wood to the fire, its flames licking the light blue sky as they rose into the air.

“Rachel’s bringing yours,” she said to Jeff. He nodded, his gaze flickering to the kitchen window before settling back on the fire.

“Gram didn’t corner you with a long story, did she?” she asked Charlie as they sat down at the patio table. She knew there had been something going on between Charlie and Gram when she’d come into the kitchen for sure. She wasn’t crazy; she could tell. Had Gram heard about Charlie wanting the land? Or maybe he’d told her. Had he upset her?

“No. I was just helping her in the kitchen.”

Jeff sat down in one of the chairs facing the fire and motioned for them to take a seat beside him. “That fire pit your papa built is really great,” Jeff said. “I’d like one in my backyard.”

“Yeah, I can remember we used to sit out here for hours, him telling us stories.” Emily said with a smile. “He was an amazing storyteller. Even reading bedtime stories, he would pull me into that world and I remember working so hard to keep my eyes open because if I missed the ending, I was afraid the story would slip away from me. If I did fall asleep, I’d make him tell the whole thing again the next night. I wanted to hear it from beginning to end. He was so great at it.”

Charlie had his eyes on her, but there was something more behind his pleasant expression. Then he said, “I had nannies that read to me.”

“Were they good storytellers?” she asked.

“Some. But my parents had specific books they asked them to read to ensure I was getting the best experience to better my education.” He took a sip of wine. “I used to keep a flashlight under my bed, and after they’d gone, I would read the books I wanted.”

“Did you go under your covers?” Clara, who’d been setting her dolls in a line on one of the chairs, asked, crawling into Charlie’s lap. The surprise on his face made Emily curious. She liked the way he looked when he wasn’t in charge, when he didn’t have some sort of agenda. It changed his entire demeanor, as if someone had hacked away at that hard, businesslike exterior to reveal who he really was inside, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Clara was waiting for his answer, her little head turned to the side as she toyed with a button on his shirt. “Sometimes I go under my covers and pretend it’s my castle and I’m the princess,” Clara said.

“You do?” he asked.

Emily noticed how gentle Charlie’s voice was, his warm gaze… She tore her eyes away from him, focusing on Clara.

“Yes,” Clara said, pushing her hair out of her face. Her yellow bow was gone. “And sometimes I pretend it’s a cave. Did you ever do that?”

“No, but it sounds fun.”

“What did you play?” She wriggled off his lap and stood in front of him.

Charlie was quiet just long enough to cause Emily to reluctantly direct her attention back toward him. He looked as though he were searching for an answer. “I don’t remember.”

Emily’s childhood was so vivid, so full of memories that she was floored by his answer, and from the look on his face, he was serious. He really didn’t remember playing. Did he grow up without ever having fun?

The back door opened and Gram hobbled through, steadying herself with her cane as she made the few steps down. Emily rushed across the patio to grab the bowl of potato salad from her. She held it with two hands to keep from dropping it and wondered how Gram had expected to get it all the way down to the table. “You should’ve called through the window, Gram. I’d have gotten this for you. Is there anything else in there that you need me to get?”

“All kinds of things,” Gram said. “Rachel’s bringing some of it out.”

As Emily headed inside, she thought about Rachel. It was unusual for her to stay tucked away in the house, and tonight, she’d taken every opportunity to do that. With the heat all around her, the sky getting dim, and the crackling of the fire at her back, Emily remembered all the times they’d had dinners like this one growing up, her, Papa, Gram, Rachel, and Jeff. And ever since college, Jeff had been there just like now, but things had felt different then. They’d had long evenings on the beach, too many beers with lime, their feet sandy and their faces warm from the sun. They’d talked all night, one voice beginning where another ended.

Papa was always the last one sitting on the beach when they went up to the house to have dinner. He had an old chair that he’d sat in. It was wicker, the weave weathered from the salt and sand. He carried it from the house to the beach and back, and he always sat in that chair. Once he was settled on the beach, it took him forever to come in. He’d say, “You kids go on up. I’m gonna sit here a little longer.”

Without a thought, they’d left him on the beach as they giggled under the spell of sun and alcohol. They gave each other piggyback rides and danced in the yard to the music still coming from the small radio they’d used all day. It didn’t occur to Emily to pay attention to it all because the next night they’d probably be doing the same thing. But now, as she walked into the kitchen, the invisible wall up between Rachel and Jeff, and Papa gone, she wished she’d have spent a little more time taking in the small things to tuck away in her memory. There was a very real possibility that they wouldn’t have any more nights like those. And now Charlie wanted to yank her future memories right out from under her. She wondered if she could ever make him understand how great Oyster Bay was because, from what he’d said so far, he hadn’t ever had an emotional attachment like that in his life. He probably couldn’t even imagine it. So, how could he ever understand her point of view?

Rachel was at the door, her arms full of things. They divvied up the bowls and the plates and napkins, and they walked out together.

She noticed the slight rigidity in Rachel’s face as she handed Jeff the glass of wine that she’d been carrying in the crook of her arm, wedged against her chest. He smiled at her, but it wasn’t the kind of smile Emily had seen so long ago when he’d looked at Rachel as if she were the only person in the room. Emily could remember being jealous of that look, wishing someone would look at her that way.

Once everything was on the table, Gram lifted the napkins off the bowls, and they all served themselves a plate. Clara sat down on her knees between Jeff and Charlie.

"Gram,” Emily said. “Where’s Papa’s chair—the one he always took to the beach?”

“It’s probably in the barn.” Gram was sitting, cracking her crabs in her expert way, the fire flickering in her eyes. “You should take Charlie to see Eli after dinner,” Gram said as everyone ate.

Emily gave Gram a sideways glance, trying to tell her with her eyes to slow down. Yes, Emily had invited Charlie to dinner, and she did want to try to make him see how great they had it here, but her grandmother had some kind of motive—she could tell by the look in Gram’s eyes. Was she trying to get them alone, set them up?

“Maybe,” she said, with another look of warning.

“Eli is your horse?” Charlie said. He scooped up a spoonful of baked beans.

“Yes,” Emily said. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I don’t know if the first time he rides a horse should be in the dark,” Rachel said with a laugh, and Emily knew exactly why she’d said it. Charlie turned toward Rachel, her laughter clearly causing interest.

“Rachel and I went riding in the dark once,” Emily said. She looked over at Rachel to continue the story, but her face had sobered and her head was turned toward Jeff, so Emily continued. “We’d been out too late for Papa’s liking the night before, and he took our car keys. He said anywhere we needed to go, we’d have to walk.

“Rachel wanted to see Jeff, and he lived too far to go on foot, so we decided to ride Eli through the woods. We got lost! It took us all night to figure out how to get home. We’d wound our way all the way up the Northern Neck, it seemed. We had to keep stopping for Eli to rest and nibble grass. By the time we reached home, we were deliriously sleepy.”

“I remember that,” Jeff said. “You two called me to let me know you’d be coming. I fell asleep outside waiting for you. I woke up on the porch swing the next morning with the worst pain in my neck and I teased Rachel for years that she was a ‘pain in the neck’.”

Jeff and Rachel looked at each other, lost in their own world of thoughts.

“The things we do for love,” Gram said, keeping the conversation going. “You girls never told me you did that.”

“We didn’t want to get in trouble,” Emily told her.

“You would’ve,” Gram laughed. “I’ll bet you two had a lot of time to talk that night. And I’ll bet you’re closer now because of nights like that one.” She leaned back in her chair, looking younger in the light of the fire. “You know, I told your papa that I wanted a house full of kids…”

Emily shot a protective look over to her sister. Did Gram sense what Rachel and Jeff were thinking?

“I wanted at least four—two boys and two girls. Papa had said the two we had were just enough. Anything more and we’d be outnumbered,” she said with a grin. “So we only had your dad and your uncle Joey. That was it. And life was good. Then, I was blessed with you girls.

“I’d like more kids,” Jeff said, his expression challenging as if he’d thrown down the gauntlet.

“Well.” Gram took in a deep breath and let it out. “Jeff, dear, there’s a reason God made that a two-person mission. You know, I’ve learned that God has his own answers to our lives. And you can’t beat yourself up tryin’ to figure them out. You just have to make the decisions that will best suit your family at the time.”

Jeff sat quietly, thoughtful. “I’m going to the beach. Anyone else?” He stood up and grabbed his wine.

“Your food will get cold,” Gram warned.

“It’s fine, Gram. I’ll get something later.” He went down to the beach, Clara following behind him. In the shadows of night, Emily could see Clara reach for her daddy’s hand, and he held it all the way to the water.

When she looked back at Rachel, she could swear there were tears in her sister’s eyes. Rachel took a large sip of her wine.

“You’re outnumbered now, Charlie,” Gram said, clearly trying to keep the conversation light. Charlie smiled. Anyone outside the situation wouldn’t be aware of the family turmoil going on. “It’s just you and us girls.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “You all are very welcoming. You’ve treated me like an old friend, and I appreciate that.”

“It’s easier to be friends than it is to be strangers, I think,” Gram said.

Charlie held the stem of his wine glass but didn’t take it off the table. He looked utterly interested in Gram’s statement. “Why is that?”

“Because when we drill down to who we really are, and we stop trying to be our very best and we’re honest with each other, we enjoy ourselves more.”

Charlie sat quietly for a moment, as if he were contemplating Gram’s explanation. “You’re totally right,” he said. “This might sound like an unusual admission, but in my entire life, I haven’t been around anyone as open as you all are. And now it all makes sense. Since I was a boy, I’ve been taught to be the best version of me all the time, and I just assumed that it was the right way to live. But I’ve really enjoyed being with you all. And you are right. It is your honesty and candor that have made it so enjoyable. So, thank you. For tonight and for that perspective.”

“You are the age of my grandkids. Please, call me Gram rather than Margaret.”

A huff of laugher escaped Charlie’s lips but it was out of happiness, Emily could tell. And as he looked over at her, his gaze softened to the warmest look and, despite herself, her heart did a little leap.

G
ram set
her napkin on the newspaper that covered the table. They’d cracked all the crabs. Their drinks needed topping off, so Emily grabbed the newest bottle of wine that Rachel had retrieved when she’d put the pie in the oven to heat for dessert.

“Thank you for a lovely meal,” Gram said, leaning back in her chair.

The coastal breeze was still warm despite the dark sky above. Emily had always had meals out on the patio whenever the weather would allow it.

“You all relax and enjoy yourselves. I’ll clear the table and bring out the pie.”

“Are you sure you don’t want help, Gram?” Emily said, while Rachel attempted to stand as well to help.

“No, no. It’s been a long time since I’ve had all you kids home. I’ll do it.” She shooed them away playfully.

Jeff came out of the house—after they’d returned from the beach, he’d put Clara to sleep. Ever since she was born, she spent her time between her own house and Gram’s. Often, when they got together, Rachel and Jeff would put Clara down at Gram’s and then pick her up the next morning after Gram had made her a big breakfast. Sometimes, if they were too tired to drive, they’d stay the night as well. With such a big house, there was plenty of room.

Gram began bringing out plates of warm pie and ice cream—it was melting quite quickly. Charlie stood to help her set the plates down on the table. She handed a plate to Charlie and motioned for him to sit.

“Thank you,” Charlie said with a smile before Gram moved around to the other side of the table. Then he looked at Emily as he sat back down, his cheeks rosy from the wine. “I hope I haven’t monopolized all your free hours,” he said.

“It’s been fun,” Gram interjected.

He smiled.

“Do you have to get back soon or anything, or can you stay a little longer?” Gram asked.

“I don’t have anything planned the rest of the night.”

“Why don’t we have game night?” Rachel suggested. “Gram, do you still have our games?”

“I do!”

Emily remembered how entertaining those nights could be, and she hoped, perhaps, she could show Charlie just how different his childhood had been to hers. She stood up. “The night’s about to get really fun! Stay right here.” She started toward the door, Gram following behind.

“Weren’t you going to see Eli first?” Gram suggested, not so subtly.

“I suppose we can,” Emily said, turning toward Charlie and realizing his eyes were already on her. “Will you join us for the game?” she asked Gram.

“No, dear, but thank you. I’m very tired. I’m going to head to bed.”

“You sure?”

Gram nodded.

Emily went inside. She checked in the basket by the coat rack in the hallway. Sure enough, the games were still there. She pulled the Crazy Trivia game out and took it back out to the table.

“Oh no,” Rachel laughed. “Not that one!”

“Of course this one! We’ll be back in just a bit.”

“Take your time,” Rachel said, looking at Jeff.

Perhaps taking Charlie to see Eli would give Rachel and Jeff some time to talk about whatever had been bothering them tonight, Emily hoped.

E
mily pulled
the old tractor up to the fence and turned off the engine. Charlie hopped out, ran around to her side, and opened the door for her. She liked it when he did that, although she didn’t want to admit it to herself. She wondered if she was just extra sentimental, and she wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the fact that Papa’s chair might be in the barn. The heavy lid of the electrical box on the light post creaked as she lifted it. She hit the switch, illuminating the entire field with white light—Papa had wired it himself.

Eli, who’d been in the corner, eating, noticed them and began walking over to the fence as Emily let Charlie inside. He hesitated at the gate.

“He won’t hurt you,” she said.

Eli stopped in front of them, and Emily put her hands on the side of his face. “Hi there, boy,” she said. His big brown eyes shifted toward her and he nickered. “I know it’s late,” she said as if she were talking to a person, “but I was wondering if you’d let us have a ride. This is Charlie.”

Eli’s great tail swooshed in the air behind them as he shifted on his feet.

“You can pet him,” Emily said to Charlie.

Charlie reached out his hand and rubbed the horse’s side. “He seems gentle,” he said.

“He is. He’s old now, but he’ll still let me ride him.” She looked back at Eli. “Okay, boy. We’re going to root around in your barn for a minute and then I’ll get the saddle.”

She took Charlie by the arm and led him to the barn. When they entered, the musty smell of straw and old wood filled the air. Emily looked up at the rafters, thinking of Papa’s hard work and how it had stood even the strongest of storms. She took a minute to look around. The lofts were filled with old riding gear and below were her broken jumps from the days when Emily had practiced for competitions with Eli. Then she stopped. Turned upside down at the back of the barn was Papa’s chair. She walked over to it and pulled it out from under some empty boxes, dust flying into the air and making her cough.

She set it upright. It looked a little smaller than it had. Maybe it was because Papa’s big personality had made it seem bigger. She sat down in it and put her hands on the worn armrests where Papa’s hands had been.

“Is that your grandfather’s old chair you mentioned at dinner?”

“Yes.” She ran her fingers along the wicker, back and forth. “Even if I could turn back time and make everything new and young again—Eli, this barn, Oyster Bay—I wouldn’t change this chair. I sat in Papa’s lap until the bugs got too bad on warm summer’s nights, right in the sand. I jumped off the seat of it into the bay while he held the back. I remember Papa’s strong arms as he carried it over his head across the yard… So many memories.” She got up and set it back in the corner, but this time, she made sure it had its own place, moving the boxes to the side.

She grabbed the saddle, the girth, bridle, and the saddle pad and walked over to Charlie, only realizing then that he had an unreadable look on his face.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, straightening out his features as he offered to hold the saddle for her. He gently took it from her hands.

“You sure?”

“I just… wasn’t ready for all this.”

She led him out into the field where Eli was standing. “You weren’t ready for what?”

“How much I like you and your family.”

She couldn’t breathe for a moment. She hung on the softness of those blue eyes, the subtle smile, the slight tilt of his head. She liked having him there as much as he liked being here. Maybe he was beginning to understand. Maybe.

She saddled up Eli, his beautiful back still so brawny, his legs muscular.

Putting her foot in the stirrup, she hoisted herself up and then gave Charlie room to come up. “Put your foot here like I did and swing your other leg over Eli’s back so that you’re sitting behind me.”

Charlie stared at her a moment. Finally, he did as she told him and he was sitting on Eli’s back with ease. Emily gave Eli the command and he began walking slowly.

She could feel the closeness of Charlie’s body. She sucked in a quiet breath as he put his arms around her waist for support. The only other person she’d ever ridden with was Rachel, and having Charlie behind her felt very different. Taller than her, she could feel his breath against her ear, sending tingles down her arm. The wine from dinner was making her a little lightheaded.

Eli increased his gait to a trot, bouncing her up off the saddle with every step. Charlie held her tightly. All the other times she’d ridden Eli, her sense of safety had come from knowing the skill and trusting her horse, but now—she couldn’t help the feeling—she found safety in Charlie’s embrace. She steered Eli through the gate, glad to be out in the open.

“Where are we going?” Charlie asked.

“To the beach.”

Eli loved walking on the beach. Emily had ridden him there hundreds of times. He’d go so far into the water that his legs were almost completely submerged, the bay lapping up onto her bare feet. It had been a very long time, and she wondered if Shelly ever took him. “Eli, boy. Let’s swim!” That was what she’d always told him on the way. He let out a whinny, making her laugh. Eli remembered the way, even picking up speed as he went.

“Isn’t your sister going to wonder where we are?” Charlie worried aloud.

“She’ll be fine,” she said, tipping her head back to make eye contact. She wanted to leave Rachel and Jeff alone a little longer. Gram had surely gone to bed by now and they’d have nothing left to do but talk to each other.

They reached the beach, and Eli went straight for the water, taking off, his tail raised above his back in excitement, despite his age. “Whoa, boy!” Emily yelled, laughing! “Slow, Eli!” She tapped his sides with her foot, regaining control of the horse. “Walk, boy.”

He slowed down, wading in until their feet were just above the water.

“I’ve never seen him this excited,” she said to Charlie, laughing again. It felt good to be riding him, and she was glad to give the old horse some enjoyment. Had he been kept in that stable since she’d ridden him last? What if Shelly only took him out for competitions and when he couldn’t perform, left him there to spend his days?

With the lights from the barn far behind them now, they were immersed in darkness. The glow of the moon was their light. Eli’s noises and the swooshing of the water were the only sounds around them apart from the occasional breeze blowing through the pine trees.

“This is amazing,” Charlie said, his arms almost holding her rather than providing support. “Thank you.”

W
hen they arrived back
at Gram’s, Emily was thrilled to see Rachel and Jeff still on the patio, wine in their hands and smiles on their faces. She made eye contact with Rachel, asking in that silent, sisterly way if she was okay. Rachel smiled back at her, setting her mind at ease, and placed red and blue decks of cards on the table. With a grin, Emily sat down, took the cards, and shuffled the two decks as Charlie took a seat beside her.

She had the red deck. “This will be mine and Charlie’s.” She handed Rachel the blue deck. “This is yours and Jeff’s.”

Rachel took the cards and then poured some wine into their glasses. The bottle was new, freshly out of the fridge. Had Rachel and Jeff finished the other? That was a good sign.

“I’m not familiar with this game,” Charlie said. “How do you play it?”

Emily took a sip from her glass. “I’ll show you,” she said. “Us first?”

“Sure,” Rachel said with a little giggle.

“Okay. It’s very easy. You have to draw a card and do what it says. If I guess it correctly, we get a point. That’s it,” she said to Charlie as she took the sand-timer and prepared to turn it over. “We have until the sand runs out. Ready? Go!”

Charlie took a card and flipped it over. His eyebrows rose as he read it. Quickly, he looked around the table and grabbed his empty plate and a fork. He stood the fork on end in the center of the plate and made whooshing sounds.

Emily watched him, confused.

He took his napkin and held it to the fork.

“Sailboat!”

“Yes!” Charlie said, clearly relieved. “The card said, ‘Use items to make your partner say the word ‘sailboat’.”

“It looked just like a sailboat,” she said.

“It did not!” Rachel laughed. “But you got it anyway! Good job, Charlie.”

Emily took a card. “We have to keep going until we either miss one or the time runs out on that go. My turn.” She flipped over the timer and studied the card. After a moment of thought, she cupped her hands, palm sides up.

Charlie’s brows furrowed as he looked at her. “Baby?” he said.

Completely surprised, she said, “Yes!” and laughed.

“That’s not how you do a baby! Are you two cheating?” Rachel said in disbelief. “How did he ever guess ‘baby’ from that? What did the card say?”

Emily, still laughing, read the card, “Using only your hands—not your arms—make your partner say the word ‘baby’.”

“They’re cheating over there,” Rachel said anyway. Jeff shook his head and chuckled.

Charlie laughed too and took another card. “Ready?” he asked.

Emily nodded.

He turned the timer over. “Okay,” he said as he read the card to himself. He stood up and pushed his chair in. Then, out of nowhere, he started dancing, his arms and legs moving everywhere.

“Haha!” Emily said as he moved around the room. “What is that?” She caught the grin that was just meant for her, and she hid her smile with a gulp of wine. She knew she should slow down on the drinks and have some water, but she was having so much fun tonight that she just wanted to let off some steam.

Then, unable to stop herself, she started laughing again.

Rachel and Jeff were laughing too.

Emily could hardly think of an answer.

“Hurry,” he said, still moving around, “the timer’s going to run out.”

“I have no idea!” She’d doubled over now, her cheeks starting to hurt. “The Charleston?” she said just as the sand ran out.

“Ha!” Charlie said, taking a large stride back over to the table. He grabbed the card and turned it around.

“Oh my gosh!” Emily threw her head back and laughed some more.

“What does it say?” Rachel asked. Emily turned the card toward her sister and Rachel read, “Dance around the room to make your partner say ‘The Charleston’.” Her mouth hung open. “That’s it. This game is rigged. Switch decks with us! You two have memorized that one or something. That didn’t even look like the Charleston!” She turned to Charlie and with a giggle said, “No offense.”

“I suppose we just think alike,” Charlie said, taking a seat and smiling at Emily, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than it should. She wondered if he, too, was feeling the wine.

“That’s scary,” Rachel joked. “I wouldn’t admit that, Charlie.”

Emily took another card, turned the timer over, looked Charlie in the eye without wavering, and said simply, “Richard.”

He sat there a moment, and then said, “Nixon.”