A Million Miles from Boston Page 6

  After everyone left, I cleaned up and listened to the rain pound the roof. A cold wind shook the windows and sneaked through the space under the doors. Raindrops fell through the chimney and into the fireplace.

  It was hard to imagine that water could cause so many problems.

  But after studying it the year before, I knew it did. Water gave life to everything—plants, animals, people—and it could take life away. Countries went to war, people died, over water rights. The ocean could be peaceful one day, violent and destructive the next.

  The wind rattled the windows. Dad had lots of memories of the Big House. Fun times when he was a boy. Most important, asking Mom to marry him after a party.

  I had a lot of memories of the Big House, too. Two years earlier Bucky had thrown up on Mrs. Steele during the Welcome Back barbecue. Yow! And I remembered sitting on Mom’s lap, watching the talent show.

  The talent show was a big tradition. Anyone could perform. The talents varied: singing, juggling and—our favorite, performed by Mr. Ramsey—sucking water from a straw through the nose. Mom had loved the show, too. I would lean into her as we watched and she laughed loud and deep.

  I smiled and closed the front door behind me. Rain bounced in the puddles and off the new swing seat.

  Superior pricked her ears and we walked to the far side of the porch. Below us Mr. Richards stood in the mud in front of the holes he’d made.

  “Hey, just the person I want to see.” Water dripped from the bill of his cap.

  “Hi.”

  “My tools are getting wet under the porch. Is there anywhere else I can store them? I don’t want to haul them back and forth from home.”

  “Sure.” I pulled up my sweatshirt hood and ran down the steps. I grabbed the small bucket, Mr. Richards took everything else and I led him around the back to the shed, which held old paint cans, a few rakes and garbage cans.

  “Perfect.” He set everything on the floor. “You’ll keep the kids out of here?”

  I nodded. “They know the shed is off limits.”

  He chuckled. “I asked Allison and her new friends what you were doing with all those kids. They said you have a camp, that you’re good at being in charge. I like a kid who knows how to work!”

  What? The older girls were talking about me?

  We were soaked, but I didn’t care. “Who said I was good at being in charge?”

  He started for his truck. “Kiki did, I think. Can’t remember exactly. Sorry I can’t give you a ride. I’m late for a meeting in town.”

  “That’s okay.” I waved as he got into his truck and drove away.

  Superior and I headed home. My mind was racing. What else had they said? I floated the entire way back, not minding the rain or the puddles.

  Our cottage was quiet and damp. Dad had left me a note. Bucky is at Henry’s and I went into town. Be back at 1. I dried Superior, put my camp money into my box and sat at Dad’s computer.

  Mei had emailed me with the best news. Her parents were dropping her off here for a night the next week while they took her older sister to look at colleges in Maine. Hurray! I wrote back, telling her all that we’d do. Somehow we’ll have to avoid Ian (haven’t seen him in 2 days). And remember the older girls I told U about? Kiki was telling Mr. Richards about me. So cool. Maybe U could meet her! I typed.

  The house phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hi. Bucky?”

  I frowned. The PT. “No, Lucy.”

  “Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry. It’s Julia. I can’t hear you. Wait.” I heard music and voices in the background but then everything was quiet. “That’s better. I’m in a closet now.”

  “What?”

  “I’m at work but there’s nowhere to talk, so I’m in a closet. A small utility closet that now smells like Pine-Sol. No wonder. I just tipped over a bottle of it. Hold on.”

  I didn’t want to hold on.

  “Well, at least the closet floor is clean.”

  “My dad isn’t here.” I tried to sound preoccupied, busy.

  “Oh. Maybe I’ll try his cell.”

  “You can’t reach him right now.” Was that true?

  “Okay. Would you tell him that I called and—”

  “I gotta go. Bye.” I hung up. People didn’t have to know where other people were every second of the day.

  How much did they talk? Every day? Several times a day?

  I stomped down the stairs, threw open the door and marched down the road, Superior close behind. Rain pelted my face. All week I’d tried not to think about the PT. She’d be here in two days.

  Superior was soaked, her fur dripping water, her ears pulled back. She used to love the rain. She’d leap into puddles and chase frogs.

  “I’m sorry, Superior. Let’s go back and I’ll give you a bath.”

  She smiled at me with her big dark eyes. But then her ears pricked up and she turned. Dad’s car inched up the road. He stopped and lowered his window. “What are you doing? Get in!”

  I climbed into the front seat and put Superior on my lap.

  Dad smiled. “Remember how Superior used to run through puddles, not caring whether it was forty degrees or eighty?”

  I smiled. “Yeah. She doesn’t do that much anymore.”

  Superior shook, water going everywhere, and we laughed. Then Dad rubbed her chin. “Look how white she’s gotten. She’s slowing down, isn’t she?”

  I felt that space open in my chest again. I shook my head. “No, she’s the same. I take good care of her.”

  “Goose, it’s not your fault she’s getting older.”

  True, but I was responsible for Superior. And I wasn’t going to let her slow down yet.

  We watched the rain. Drops the size of nickels hit the windshield, then bounced. Water dripped from my hair onto my neck but I didn’t wipe it away. I held my breath, waiting, although I didn’t know why.

  “Mom liked rain,” he said. I nodded. He’d told me this many times. “Sometimes, especially on days like today, I really miss her.”

  He gripped the steering wheel, staring hard at the rain.

  And I felt this deep ache inside me that wanted something so badly I almost couldn’t stand it. Was it Mom?

  Dad turned to me, his shoulders hunched, his eyes dull. “You’re all wet,” he said, as if he’d just noticed.

  Don’t be sad, I thought. I had to do something. “Who, me? I’m not all wet. I’m right.”

  “What?” Then he smiled, slowly. “Oh, I get it. Wise guy.”

  He put the car in gear and drove slowly around the curve. Wet branches hung over the road. When I saw our cottage, I felt as if I could breathe again. “Are you going to work some more?”

  He sat up straighter. “This journal is fascinating. Remember how Thaddeus talked about the fight the Point had with the town over water rights?”

  I’d skipped this part because it was so boring.

  “Well, Edna has a different take on it. She said it was the Point’s fault.” He chuckled. “I’ve been looking for a way to arrange everything. Julia had an idea. She said everyone came to the Point looking for something. Don’t know why I didn’t see that before. It’s a great way to organize my material.”

  My shoulders sank. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  “Julia’s going to be here in a few days.” He stopped in front of the cottage.

  I should tell him that she called.

  “And, Goose,” he said, “you could give her a chance. I really—”

  “I’ve got to give Superior a bath.” I jumped out of the car.

  he PT drove a hybrid car, which was good, because that meant she was thinking about the environment. Nothing else about her was good. She was too tall. Her brown hair was too thick, her skin too white. When she smiled, you saw all the way back to her molars.

  She shook my hand. Bucky rushed into her arms. Everyone laughed, except me.

  “Hello, Superior.” The PT stood still, which was good, because Superior didn’t like her. The past spring s
he’d tried to pet Superior, and Superior had growled. Now the PT sighed and looked at the water. “It’s so beautiful. Breathtaking, actually.”

  The birch trees framed the view across the bay. The sun made sparkly silver and blue ripples on the water. Of course it was beautiful and breathtaking.

  “You gotta see the dock and the beach and the garage.” Bucky pulled on her hand. “Out there is Pear Island and Upper Egg, where we go camping. Every time we go, we get these great hot dogs, special from the market, and we make s’mores, too.”

  I frowned at him. Why was he telling her all this?

  “Whoa, hold on, Buck,” Dad said. “We’ve got time to show her everything.”

  She laughed, then smiled at me. “Lucy, what do you think I should see first?”

  I shrugged. How would I know what she’d like? We looked at each other.

  “Oh, I brought you something.” She leaned into her car.

  She handed Dad a jar of jam. “I got this at a wonderful fair yesterday. It’s yummy.” They smiled at each other. Then she handed a book to Bucky and one to me.

  “Thanks,” I said. The art historian Dad had dated once brought me a fancy drawing set, but I’d put it in my closet, unopened. I wasn’t that good of an artist. I glanced at the title, The Animals of Maine, and flipped through the torn, yellowed pages. It was a lot like my bird book. I glanced at Dad, but he was looking at her.

  “You don’t like it?” Her smile faded. “At the fair the library was selling old books and I thought you might … Well, I know it’s not new. But here, look at this.”

  She took the book, opened to the inside cover and pulled a white card out of a sleeve. She pointed to the writing at the top: April 25, 1956. Miss Bingham.

  “Isn’t that funny? That people were called Miss? Maybe Miss Bingham was the spinster music teacher at the high school. Or a teenager, like you.”

  She laughed loudly, then sucked in a breath. No wonder she had trouble breathing. She talked too fast. Dad smiled. Bucky studied the World War II book she’d given him. Maybe I’d look through my book. Later. Before putting it in my closet.

  “Can we show Julia the beach?” Bucky asked.

  They started down the road. I followed with Superior, my book pressed to my chest. Dad wore a new shirt and shorts. His hair was even combed. He told the PT about the Steeles.

  “Tell her about the bow and arrows.” Bucky kept jumping as he walked.

  Dad nodded. “When I was a kid, Walter would stand on the porch and shoot arrows at targets in the lawn. Scared parents to death. I always knew when he was out, because my dad made me stay inside while he yelled at Walter from our kitchen.”

  The PT laughed. “He sounds interesting.”

  She couldn’t possibly care about this. I ran ahead of them.

  At the beach I sat near the water. Soon Dad and the PT walked across the sand and sat near me. I opened my book and turned to a page about wolves, but I couldn’t concentrate. I’d never heard Dad talk so much. “I love that restaurant in Portland!” “Work is going well!” “Tell me about that patient from Deer Isle, the man you got to walk again.”

  She sat with her legs out, her heels digging in the sand. When she laughed, she threw back her head and her collarbones stuck out. She was too bony. She laughed too much. And Dad laughed too much with her.

  Finally they stopped talking. She turned to me and I gripped the sides of my book and focused on the words so hard that they blurred.

  “What do you like to do up here, Lucy?”

  I didn’t look at her. “Stuff.”

  She hesitated. “Like?”

  “Fish.”

  “Oh, you like to fish? What kind of fish do you catch?”

  “All kinds.” So many questions!

  “Your dad says you’re running a camp.”

  I nodded. I felt Dad’s eyes on me but I didn’t look at either of them.

  “Julia!” Bucky held up a crab. “Come here!”

  She walked to Bucky. I went back to the book. Wolves are carnivores that often prey on big animals. Adult wolves have forty-two razor-sharp teeth, ten more than a human. No wonder Thaddeus had been afraid when the wolves chased him.

  I glanced up and imagined the PT on her hands and knees, all those teeth showing as she chased me around the beach. I shuddered.

  “I don’t think you’re being very friendly,” Dad said.

  “I’m friendly.” But my cheeks stung as I reread the sentence. Adult wolves have forty-two razor-sharp teeth. Adult wolves have forty-two razor-sharp teeth!

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t feel like talking.” I reached for Superior but she was up the beach.

  “And you didn’t tell me that she called the other day.”

  “Sorry. I forgot.”

  Dad was quiet, then sighed. “I know this is hard. But you need … Well. She’s just a wonderful person, Goose. You don’t have to be worried. And …”

  “I’m not worried!” I left the book in the sand and walked to the rocks.

  Bucky was teaching the PT how to hold the crab. I imagined her crushing the crab. She turned it around, staring at it from all sides before handing it back to Bucky.

  We walked back to the cottage. Bucky ran off with Henry and I put the book in my room. Then I sat at my puzzle. Dad and the PT were in the kitchen, talking as pop! a cork came out of a wine bottle. I kept glancing at the door. Were they talking about me?

  “This looks like a tough one,” the PT said from the doorway. Dad sat on the couch and picked up the newspaper.

  “May I?” She pointed to the chair next to me. I shrugged. She tried to sit, only she stepped on Superior, who was lying under the table, and jumped back, knocking my water bottle onto the floor.

  “Oh! I didn’t see her! I’m so sorry.” She looked under the table. “Are you okay?”

  I lifted Superior’s paw, examining it closely. She was okay, but I kissed it twice. The PT sighed, picked up my water bottle and put it on the table.

  “Let’s try this again.” She sat and stared at the puzzle. “Your dad says a boy from your school moved up here.”

  If I stayed quiet, would she leave?

  “That must feel strange, someone from back home suddenly living here.”

  How did she know? I tried forcing a blue puzzle piece into the sky but it wouldn’t fit. I felt her staring at me, waiting.

  “That’s enough, Lucy.” Dad’s voice was angry.

  “Oh, Ben, don’t, it’s okay,” she said.

  I pushed back my chair, ran to the door and threw it open. I took the stairs two at a time to the dock. I sat and hung my legs over the edge, the water cold and numbing.

  Jenny probably would say, “It’s good your dad has a friend.” But this wasn’t like the art historian. Something felt different.

  The air was still, the water calm. A sailboat motored toward the marina, its sails tied to the mast. Someone in a kayak hugged the coast, silently paddling toward me.

  The stairs creaked. Superior came down first, nuzzled my neck, then sat. Dad followed, frowning. He was hardly ever mad at me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them into my chest. Now the cold water on my legs numbed my arms, too.

  Dad squatted next to me, frown fading. “You’re upset.”

  The kayak was closer now. Mrs. Ramsey waved from it and Dad and I waved back.

  “You don’t have to feel threatened,” Dad said.

  I wasn’t threatened! Or worried or anything except … Except what?

  “She asks too many questions. I don’t like her!” There, I’d said it. But I felt a sting in my chest. Lines creased his forehead.

  “Hi!” Mrs. Ramsey paddled to the dock. Her kayak was shiny green with a black racing stripe across the top. The cockpit fit snugly around her. “I saw an eagle!”

  “What?” Dad stood. “Where?”

  “By the beach. Beautiful, soaring up into the nest. Only one of them, though.”

  Dad nodded. “
The other is probably staying in the nest.”

  “You’re welcome to use my kayak.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t today.” Dad touched the hull. “Such a beaut!”

  “Are you sure, Ben? I know how much you like it. What about you, Lucy?”

  “No, thanks,” I said. We talked for a while and she paddled off silently. Such a beaut. The kayak I’d picked for Dad in my boating magazine was just as nice.

  He cleared his throat. “All I’m asking is that you give Julia a chance.”

  He didn’t ask me to like her.

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  After dinner, we played Monopoly. When it was time for bed, Bucky hugged the PT before heading upstairs. I waved from the doorway.

  I tucked Bucky in and counted the money in my box. Then Superior settled on my rug and I got into bed. I stared at the ceiling and listened to muffled voices on the porch.

  During dinner the PT had told us that at her job she treated people who had been injured or had surgery. She often had to help people learn to live with what had happened to them, such as this guy who’d torn up his knee and couldn’t play football. I listened, feeling okay.

  A cool breeze blew through my window. I heard laughter and glanced at The Animals of Maine on the floor. It was a decent present.

  I reached down and touched Superior. Back home when I couldn’t sleep, I played a game from bed, pretending that my ceiling was a new country and the cracks were roads and rivers. I kept adding new details. The ceiling fan was a terrifying whirlpool, the streak marks above my bureau a dangerous waterfall. I had to find my way around it all.

  But this ceiling didn’t have cracks. And I didn’t usually lie awake so long here.

  Finally, at midnight, I heard voices outside. Soon Dad climbed the stairs. I closed my eyes and felt him at the door. Then the floor creaked and he was gone. I rolled onto my back, listening to water running in the bathroom and Dad humming.

  The PT made him happy.

  he next morning I stood at the counter, staring at two wineglasses in the sink, one with red lipstick on the rim. What had they talked about the night before? Mom?

  I tried to think about something happy, like Mei’s visit, as I washed the glasses. The lipstick was gone but I couldn’t stop thinking about Mom.