Daughters of the Lake(43)

During the long years of Jess’s absence, Addie passed the time like any other girl in town. She rode the bicycle Jess gave her, attended school, swam in the lake in any kind of weather, helped her parents—although, as she grew, her mother no longer allowed Addie to accompany her father and uncle on fishing excursions. Not a suitable activity for a young lady, she would say. While this bothered Addie somewhat—she hated being told she couldn’t do this or that because she was a lady, and more and more of her life seemed to fit into this category—she knew in her heart that her childhood was ending and young womanhood was beginning. Laughing as her hair blew in the wind on her father’s boat was a childish thing that she must put away as she prepared to create a home and a life with Jess Stewart. She waited patiently for that day to come.

Finally, it came. Four years and two months after he went off to college, Jess Stewart returned to Great Bay. He had not intended to do so, not now at least, but his father had fallen ill, and his mother had implored him to come home for a visit. Jess agreed, not only because he wanted to see his family but also because he felt that paying a visit to his hometown was a practical thing to do at this time. He and his roommate had indeed been offered employment with Canby Lines in the city, and he needed to retrieve some of his belongings in order to set up an apartment.

During the journey, Jess rested his chin on his hand and gazed out the window as the train chugged along the lakeshore toward home. As he watched the countryside pass by—a herd of cattle here, a cornfield there—Jess wondered what he would say to Addie when he arrived back home in Great Bay. He was at a loss. As the train drew closer and closer to the lake and its destination, fog obscured much of the countryside, allowing Jess’s mind to wander, unfettered now by the increasingly familiar sights of home.

Jess knew that he had his pick of any woman he desired in the city, all from wealthy families that could further his career. He had studied and then cultivated the casual air and genial attitude of the wealthiest boys in his fraternity. These men could laugh at the banalities of life, knowing that nothing—certainly not lack of money or connections—stood in the way of their ultimate happiness. It was not a sense of entitlement they radiated, Jess reasoned, it was the lack of burden. They were free of worry. Jess wrapped that persona around himself like a security blanket, believing that acting as though he hadn’t a care in the world would make it so. It did the job, for a while. Life fell into place—the women, the friends, and ultimately, upon graduation, a great job with a solid future. Jess Stewart had succeeded in erasing the specter of his humble past.

The only thing that remained was choosing a suitable bride. His roommate had already cemented a favorable alliance with an altogether pleasant, if a bit plain and dull, woman in town, a woman who certainly could further his career, and Jess was determined to do the same for himself.

Sally Reade, the girl Jess had known since his early days in college, stood out from a wide field of competitors. She was flighty, yes, and a trifle unstable. But her family was among the wealthiest in the state. Not only would she bring a sizeable fortune into the marriage but also a great sense of fun. Oh, Jess had witnessed her bouts of sullen moping, but they were contrasted with periods of wild energy. At those times, she threw fabulous parties and floated among the crowd of guests, chatting, laughing, and keeping people entertained until all hours. She was already building a reputation as one of the finest hostesses in town. Further, her family liked Jess. They found him to be a stabilizing influence on their unpredictable daughter. Her father had said, over and over again, that Jess—strong, solid, sensible Jess—was a good match for Sally. He anchored her. Jess hadn’t proposed outright yet, but everyone saw it coming on the road ahead.

As Jess considered all of this, he felt a twinge of guilt about reneging on the life he had planned throughout his youth with Addie. It was true that none of the women he courted, especially not Sally, could measure up to the intimacy he felt with Addie. Jess tried to brush it aside, but it nagged at him. He told himself that old sentimentality and childhood promises simply could not govern the actions of a successful man bound on securing his future, could they? He would not allow the silly machinations of his childhood to ruin his chances for success in the cold, harsh, adult world of business. Surely Addie would be able to see that, too. Besides, Addie was a child. In retrospect, his relationship with Addie started to look like that of siblings. She was like a little sister to him. Still, he felt a twinge of excitement at the idea of seeing her again. It had been so long.

As the train moved ever closer to the station and Jess ruminated further on his future, Addie was dressing in preparation for his arrival. She had scarcely been able to contain her excitement for days—finally, the long wait was over. She put on the new blue dress she and her mother had made for this occasion, smoothing the skirt and fiddling with the collar over and over again with shaking hands. She brushed her hair until it shone, allowing it to fall freely around her face instead of tying it in the knot she usually wore behind her head. She looked at the clock again and again. Two hours until he arrives.

Meanwhile, on the train, Jess was carefully planning his exit speech. He had thought about simply writing to Addie—words on paper, carefully thought out and considered—it was a much easier way of dealing with a difficult subject. However, he was aware that this young girl had loved him for her entire life. She had been waiting for him for four long years. He needed to let her down as gently as possible. I have met someone else, a woman of substance . . . No matter how much our friendship means to me . . . He rehearsed it over and over in his mind, always failing to find the right words. The vision of her disappointed young face created a gnawing in his stomach. He didn’t want to hurt her. And yet . . .