Two Truths and a Lie(65)
“This is technically Winter Harbor,” Cam said, recovering from his memories of his less-than-perfect childhood, which actually seemed about as close to perfect as a childhood could get. “It feeds into Winnipesaukee just down there.” He pointed. “Dad’s out on the boat right now, or else I’d take you around. When I do, I can point out Mitt Romney’s house, which makes this place look like a two-star-on-Trip-Advisor shack. Hey, want to go grab something to eat in town? Or do you have to get back?”
Alexa thought about Hannah, scooping ice cream for the customers who should be Alexa’s. “Nope, there’s nothing I need to get back for,” she said. When she thought about the rooms full of cozy beds she wanted nothing more than to lay her head down on one of the pillows and curl up under one of the grandmother quilts.
“In that case,” said Cam, “I’m going to take you to Wolfe’s Tavern, at the inn. It’s a famous landmark around here. You’ll love it, I promise.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Alexa. “Some of my favorite places are landmark taverns.”
He laughed, and his laugh was a genuine sound, no malice in it, no ill-will or awkwardness. People didn’t often laugh at things Alexa said that way, and her face and heart both warmed.
Alexa offered to drive the Jeep but Cam demurred and said they’d take the minivan. “I’m more used to driving in the crush of people and cars that is the heart of Wolfeboro in the summer,” he said. “Pedestrians leap out into the roads without warning or provocation.”
Alexa figured she must be imagining it when she looked in the minivan’s rearview mirror and saw a black SUV. Well, she wasn’t imagining the SUV: it was really there, and really black. But she must be imagining that it had come for her: she wasn’t even in her own car. Still, the chorus started again in her head, like the far-off beating of a drum. The bad men, the bad men, the bad men. She shivered so visibly that Cam reached for the AC button on the console and raised the temperature.
Discuss the concept of fear in your trip to Winnipesaukee, Alexa.
At the tavern, Cam showed Alexa where his father’s silver mug was hanging from the ceiling, along with the mugs of all the other people who had completed the one hundred beer challenge; he showed her the moose that people kissed after completing the fifty martini challenge. They shared an order of asparagus fries, the Nashville hot wings, and pork pot stickers.
By the time they returned to the house, someone had put lights on in a few of the rooms; the house looked so welcoming and unblemished that Alexa’s throat caught. The house was beautiful, yes, but more than its beauty was the fact that its coziness, its familial feeling stood in contrast to Alexa’s own lonelier home, bowing still to grief. As if specifically placed to complete the tableau, from somewhere out on the water came the soulful, haunting cry of a loon.
“That’s a yodel,” said Cam knowledgeably. “Which is different from a wail. Only the males yodel. Listen—”
Cam stepped closer to her and they leaned together against the minivan, listening. Cam intertwined his fingers with Alexa’s and, despite her worry that some of the Nashville hot sauce lingered on them, she was scared to move, almost scared to breathe, lest she destroy the moment. A loon called again.
“That was a wail,” he said. “Did you hear the difference? They’re talking to each other with the wail, regaining contact. It’s pretty amazing how they do that, make sure that they’re never lost from each other.”
“I love that,” said Alexa softly. “I really, really love that.”
She didn’t want to let go of Cam’s hand, but she said she should think about getting home. It was a long drive, and her mother would start to worry. She moved toward her Jeep, still holding on to Cam’s hand. Kiss me, she was thinking. Please, Cameron Hartwell, please kiss me before I leave.
And then he did kiss her; he was kissing her. It wasn’t like the time she kissed him in his driveway at home, when she took him by surprise, and it was a one-sided thing, a show of power or chutzpah. This kissing was mutual, reciprocated and reciprocal, urgent.
“You should go,” Cam whispered, when they came up for air, and his voice was gruff and sexy. With his thumb he traced her cheekbone. “Before I do something I might regret.”
“Go ahead and do it,” she said. “I dare you.” She pressed against him—she couldn’t help it; her body led her mind. Cam rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms, gently but firmly, like he was warming her after some chill, although even without the glow of the sun the air was perfectly temperate.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said. “We have the rest of the summer.” He opened her driver’s-side door and said, “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed her twice more, once on the forehead and once on the nose, and those types of kisses could have seemed avuncular but actually they were sexy too. She climbed behind the wheel, and he stood in the driveway as she executed a three-point turn and departed, leaving behind something as glimmering and hopeful as a promise.
47.
Sherri
On this particular day Sherri was not on the schedule at Derma-You so she was able to drop Katie at theater camp herself. After Katie hopped out of the car without so much as a by-your-leave, Sherri saw Rebecca’s white Acura—a mirror of her own—three cars behind her in line. As she was pulling out of the turnaround, a text came into her phone. Pull over when you leave. Sherri did as she was told, and Rebecca drove up alongside her and lowered her window. Sherri pressed the button to lower the window on the passenger side, and Rebecca said, “Let’s have lunch later.”