Breakwater Bay: A Novel Page 5

  “Carlyn, I’m not—I don’t.”

  “Tell me later.”

  She pushed Meri onto the stage. Meri took her place next to Geordie and Trish who stood at the second mic, off to the side.

  Carlyn took the main mic and nodded to the deejay. The music began. Carlyn belted out, “Don’t take your—”

  Meri cringed. Of all the songs, of all the nights. “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do.”

  Chapter 5

  It took an eon with Meri holding on to every last shred of her control before the last “dooby doo down down” faded out. Cheers and whistles followed, while the Slow Tops and Carlyn took hands and bowed. Laughing, they ran off the stage, catching high fives and playful swipes. They fell into their chairs exhilarated, and Carlyn motioned to the waiter for more drinks.

  Meri was the only one not laughing. She’d been wrong to try to socialize her way through this mess that was her life. She needed to go home and curl into a cocoon and come out a butterfly. She half smiled at that. Alden could make a wonderful series of drawings of it.

  A guy in a Rhode Island School of Design sweatshirt climbed up the two steps to the stage. His cheeks were flushed and he fidgeted behind the mic until the words appeared on the screen. “This is for Hannah,” he said quickly. The audience returned a long awww, and “Can’t Help Falling in Love” started.

  Carlyn nudged Meri. “So what happened to Peter? Did you leave him parking the car?”

  Meri shook her head. “He went home.”

  Carlyn frowned at her. The problem with best friends was they had radar for when you weren’t yourself. Ha. Not that she’d ever been herself.

  “He went home?”

  “Falling in Love” continued shyly and off-key behind her.

  “And I’d better get going, too.” Meri stood up.

  “You just got here.”

  “Long day and I’m beat. I think I’ll get to bed.”

  “It’s only eleven thirty,” Carlyn said.

  The singer wobbled to a breathy finish.

  Meri tried to smile, but reached down for her bag so Carlyn wouldn’t see her expression twist into pain. Then without looking at her friends, she waved a general good-bye and fled toward the door.

  She was halfway to the corner when she heard footsteps behind her. Not a mugger, but her best friend. Meri’s instinct was to run, but she would have to face her sooner or later.

  She stopped walking and resolutely turned and waited.

  Carlyn had come out without her coat, and for some reason that made Meri want to throw her arms around her and thank her for being her friend.

  “Okay. What’s going on? And don’t say nothing. Something Peter did. Or else he’d come with you.”

  “He’s leaving next week, and—”

  “Next week? What happened to September?”

  “His uncle got him an internship at his law firm until school starts. Paid.”

  “How’s he going to intern and work full-time?”

  “He quit his job.”

  “Holy shit. . . . But that’s okay, he’d have had to leave in the fall anyway. Maybe this will give you two more time together to decide what to do.”

  Meri shook her head. Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours that she knew she couldn’t begin to explain.

  “What? Why are you shaking your head? He won’t have more time?”

  “It’s in California.”

  Total silence while Carlyn’s face registered dumbfounded shock. Then comprehension. “Oh, shit. That’s a pretty long commute for dinner. What are you going to do? Did he ask you to—”

  “Don’t look so worried,” Meri said. “You’re not going to lose your doo-wop backup. I told him to go and have a good time or something like that.”

  Carlyn frowned, scrunching her shoulders while she peered at Meri.

  “You look like a turtle when you do that.” Meri’s voice cracked.

  “You broke up?”

  “No. Maybe. I’m not sure. It kind of looks that way.”

  “I’m so sorry. But it’s only for a few months; you’ll get back together. You’re perfect for each other.”

  Meri shrugged. Her throat was burning, and her mouth was much too dry to form words.

  “Oh Lord.” Carlyn shut her eyes and grabbed her head with both hands. “That was absolutely the worst song to sing. Meri, I’m sorry. Sorry, I had no idea. But didn’t he ask you to come with him?”

  “Sort of.”

  “And you turned him down?”

  “What would I do in Los Angeles? Dig out the La Brea tar pits?”

  “Well, there is that. But I’m sure things will work out. Eventually.”

  “There’s something worse.”

  “What?”

  Meri shook her head.

  “OMG, you’re not pregnant?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t even know why I said that.”

  “Well, if it’s nothing, then come back inside.”

  “No, I’m beat; really, I just stopped in for a minute. Go back inside; your teeth are chattering.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then meet me for a run in the morning. Afterward, we’ll have waffles and lots of whipped cream at Barney’s. My treat.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Ten o’clock at the Ruggles Avenue entrance to the walk. We’ll do the north route, loop back and take the forty steps a couple of times, then drown our sorrows in sugar.”

  “Okay.”

  “No cancellations.”

  “All right. I’ll be there. Night.” Meri gave Carlyn a swift hug and walked away.

  “Ten o’clock!” Carlyn called after her.

  Meri raised her hand and kept walking.

  The streets were pretty quiet for a Saturday night, still a bit wet from yesterday’s rain. The buildings seemed swollen and cold, the streetlamps doing nothing to warm the chill in the air. It was only two blocks to her apartment, but she began to rue wearing her platform shoes.

  Meri was glad she’d left a light on. Coming home to a dark apartment might have put her over the edge. But she opened the door to a cheery, albeit empty, scene. She hung her coat up in the narrow coat closet, then went through to her tiny bedroom and neatly hung up her dress. And that was as far as she got before hurt, anger, and self-pity took over.

  She sat on the edge of the bed that she would be occupying alone tonight, took off her shoes, and threw them as hard as she could through the open closet door. Then she crawled under the covers, underwear, makeup, and hair band still in place.

  And lay there watching the numbers on the digital clock tick by.

  Therese Calder woke with a start. The house was dark. She listened for any sound that was different, but only heard the shushing of the sea and the whisper of branches as a breeze wafted through the trees.

  She had a compelling urge to call Meri, just to make sure she was all right, but it was after midnight. She’d still be out with Peter. Therese hoped he would be understanding, not be one of those people who turned his back on his friends when they disappointed him. But why should he be disappointed in Meri? How could anyone be disappointed in her?

  She was so loving and kind and compassionate.

  Therese’s conscience writhed under guilt, old and new. For what she’d let happen thirty years ago, and what she’d done only last night. But what were her choices? Let the child be taken by Social Services, placed in some home that might love her but just as easily might have abused her?

  In her heart, she knew they had done the right thing. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t tried to return the baby to her rightful family.

  Therese cringed, chastising herself for her half-truth. They’d found the family and the family had not wanted to hear about their daughter or their grandchild, so she and Laura told them that the baby died with the mother. They left their address and phone number
. But the people never asked about the grave or contacted her again.

  They had erased their daughter from their lives and their love. And after meeting them, the decision to keep Meri had been easy.

  God would either forgive her or not. She’d done what she thought best. Both times. And now she would have to act because of those decisions.

  The box that belonged to Meri sat on the top shelf of Therese’s closet beneath a stack of quilts. But it burned through the closed door like some enchanted thing in one of Alden’s fairy tales. She wouldn’t be surprised to see it jump down from the shelf and run out of the house crying “Read me. Read me.”

  She shuddered and nestled down beneath the comforter. How much longer could she live with that box in her possession? It didn’t belong to her. It belonged to Meri.

  Tomorrow she would call Alden and ask him to drive her to Newport. He hardly ever went anywhere except to take the train down to New York to see his editors and agent, and he rarely went into Newport. She didn’t know what was wrong with the man, to live out here all by himself.

  It was a comfort to have him nearby, but he should be getting on with his life. He’d been alone for—she thought back—six years? eight? A long time for a man in his prime. Was his marriage responsible for that, or had he been marked by what had happened three decades ago?

  She would call him first thing tomorrow. Maybe they would stay and take Meri to a nice restaurant. Alden would see what he was missing and get interested in life again, instead of living with a bunch of imaginary creatures and an old lady for his only neighbor.

  She would go back to sleep now. There were no frightening noises outside. The only sounds she heard tonight were the beating of her own heart and the shushing of the waves. . . .

  Meri lasted nearly twenty minutes before she had to get up and put her shoes away properly. Sometimes she wished she was one of those people who was überdetailed at work and a slob at home. But she couldn’t stand a mess. Which, if she allowed herself to think, was pretty much what her life was at the moment—a mess.

  She pushed the blanket away and turned on the light. Rummaged around in the bottom of the closet, until she found the wayward shoes and returned them to their storage box. Looked at the coordinated rows of hanging clothes and had an overwhelming desire to yank them off the hangers.

  Step away from the situation. You’re about to lose it and that’s not good.

  Rattled, she stepped back and back, shook herself. Where had that urge come from? It was a dangerous thought. If she didn’t stay on an even keel, her whole life might come tumbling down.

  She’d meet Carlyn in the morning for a run like always. Do the laundry in the afternoon, like always. Go to work on Monday, continue to work on the ceiling while she waited for the paint analysis to come from the lab.

  That ceiling held untold possibilities: colors, patterns, maybe even gilt. It was a mystery to solve, hopefully one that would uncover a beautiful fascinating remnant from a life gone by. Meri shied away from the thought that her own past was a mystery—she wasn’t about to chip away at that. She doubted there would be anything wonderful or worth preserving from a runaway girl and an abandoned baby.

  But as she brushed her teeth she wondered, what had the girl, her mother, been afraid of, what or whom? Her baby’s father, her parents? Was she running from the law, immigration? And just as that glimpse of gilt beneath all those layers of paint had set her blood racing, the desire to find out the truth settled inside her.

  She needed to know. She wouldn’t hurt her family, the family who raised and loved her, her true family. But surely Gran wouldn’t mind if she asked about what had occurred at her birth. Did she look like that girl?

  Her hair had always been darker than her mother’s, and Meri was taller by several inches. She’d just assumed her father was tall. But they both had blue eyes. The teenager must have had blue eyes. Did they have a picture of her? Did they know her name? I need to know. She would learn the facts, then she would leave it alone and get on with her life as Merielle Calder Hollis.

  That’s who she was. The Calders had loved her and shaped her character and were always there for her. Alden was right about that. It wasn’t who birthed you. It was who nurtured you. She was a Calder Hollis, a Calder Hollis.

  And those words followed her to sleep.

  Sunday was another sunny day. Meri showered, changed into running clothes and shoes, and put her hair back in a ponytail. She filled a waist pack with credit cards, ID, keys, and cash, then added a water bottle and clipped it on. On her way out, she grabbed a fleece jacket in case it was cold.

  But it wasn’t cold. It felt like spring, and a little surge of optimism swelled inside her as she walked across town to meet Carlyn.

  Carlyn was waiting for her at the entrance to the Cliff Walk near Newport’s grandest “cottage,” the Breakers, built by the Vanderbilts at the height of the Gilded Age.

  “Leave that in the car,” Carlyn said, indicating the jacket. “You won’t need it today.” She tossed Meri the keys to her ancient Alfa Romeo and began stretching.

  Carlyn and Meri had met over karaoke their freshman year and had been best friends ever since. Carlyn was a business major at Rhode Island College but caught the restoration bug when Meri dragged her to a behind-the-scenes tour of the Breakers. When Carlyn graduated, she turned her back on the financial district and signed on as fund-raiser for Doug’s first solo project.

  As project manager for the Gilbert House restoration, she compiled data, kept the project on budget or came up with more funding, logged progress and setbacks, ordered supplies, answered phones, and occasionally went out to get lunch for everyone.

  Doug was constantly trying to entice Carlyn to work solely for his projects. She was a gem, both as a preservationist and as a friend. She kept him dangling, mainly, Meri thought, because he was a willing victim to her teasing. Meri knew Carlyn loved the job, and though the pay was poor, it was a lot more satisfying to “crunch numbers for a worthy cause.”

  Meri tossed her jacket in the front seat and locked the door. When she crossed the street, Carlyn was bent over touching her toes. She popped up, reminding Meri of a jack-in-the-box, though it might have been her reddish hair that began to frizz as soon as it hit the sea air.

  Meri quickly stretched, and they started off north along the cliff. The air was brisk and there was a healthy breeze along the water. It was a perfect early spring day for jogging or speed walking or strolling, and the walk was already busy with people.

  They began at a brisk walk until they passed the grounds of the Breakers, then broke into an easy jog, running side by side when the walk was wide enough, and single file when passing slower pedestrians. Parts of the walk had taken a beating in the last hurricane, but it was whole again.

  Meri relaxed into the pace, breathed in the fresh air and sunlight, and cast occasional glances at the bay that glistened blue in the sun.

  Students at Salve Regina were already stretched out on the lawn. Spring break was only a week away and they were getting an early start.

  Carlyn suddenly veered right; Meri followed her down the forty steps to a small lookout. By the time she reached the bottom, Carlyn was turning around and heading back to the path.

  Meri huffed out a breath, and taking a longing look at the water, began the climb up. Carlyn was jogging in place when Meri reached the top.

  “I’m dying,” Meri gasped.

  “Just another three-quarters of a mile and we’ll walk back.”

  “Right.” Meri took a deep breath and started out again. By the time they reached the end of the walk at the Chanler Inn, Meri was wishing she was idly rich and could stop at the luxury hotel for brunch. But the Chanler was not for them. They would do their brunching at Barney’s Budget Breakfast and More.

  Barney’s had great food. And their kind of ambiance: noisy, fun, and upbeat. Barney was actually a sixtysomething-year-old woman, with gray hair braided down her back. She’d lived in Newpo
rt ever since as a hippie she’d ridden into town on the back of a Harley and decided to stay. Her waffles could not be beat.

  When they finally reached the end of the walk, Meri was still on her feet mainly by keeping the image of a double cappuccino like a dangling carrot to keep her going. Carlyn immediately started stretching, while Meri huffed her breath back to normal.

  Well, Carlyn didn’t spend hours a day crunched up on a scaffold thirty feet above the floor. She went to Zumba class on Wednesday nights and spinning three times a week. She was a demon.

  Meri counted carrying laundry downstairs to the basement and walking to the corner market as major aerobic exercise.

  Carlyn barely waited for Meri to catch her breath before she started back the way they had come. At least she’d slowed to a power walk. Meri dragged herself beside her.

  “You look beat,” Carlyn told her. “You need to get more exercise.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Carlyn slowed to a normal walk. “So want to tell me what happened with Peter?”

  “Just what I told you. He’s got an internship in L.A. He quit his job and is leaving next week.”

  “I can’t believe he’s just leaving like that. What about the two of you? We all thought you were going to get married.”

  “So did I. Actually, I’m pretty sure he did, too.”

  “But he’s still coming back east for law school, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “So it’s not over.”

  They’d slowed to a pedestrian walk. Meri shrugged. “Well, I sort of gave him his freedom.”

  Carlyn stopped outright and spun Meri around. “You dumped him?”

  “No,” Meri said, stepping aside for a runner to pass. “I just told him to go and—hell, I’m not sure what I said or why. Suddenly I just felt like it was out of my control. I didn’t want to go to California and he didn’t want to stay here. And if we can’t even decide between us, if neither of us is willing to make a sacrifice, maybe it’s not the right relationship.”