Nan Rossiter - The Gin and Chowder Club

Asa reached down to pick up his cup. As he stood, he glanced at his watch. He had no idea it had gotten so late . He slipped on his shoes, climbed up the dune, and carefully made his way back through the brush. He silently stood in the yard and looked up at the house. The party had ended. The house was dark except for the forgotten Christmas lights that twinkled on the back porch. There was a light on in an upstairs bedroom too.

For some reason, standing in the dark and looking up at the window, Asa thought of Annie. The light blinked out, and Asa walked slowly down to his truck, thankful that he had parked away from the house.

Noelle finished the last of the dishes as Nate dried and put them away. So often, simple tasks like this reminded him of Annie. She had always filled the sink with hot sudsy water, so the bowls would still have some bubbles on them when she put them in the dish drain. Noelle, on the other hand, allowed the hot water to run so she could give each plate a good rinse. Nate also remembered how diligent Annie had been about keeping the bird feeder filled and how much she had enjoyed watching her little troupe of chickadees, nuthatch, titmice, and woodpeckers. The cardinals, though, had been her favorite, and she had often looked out the window at dusk and said, “Mr. and Mrs. C are here for their bedtime snack.”

Noelle loved the birds, too, but the feeder sometimes hung empty and forgotten. Nate would look out and say, “Mr. C is tapping his foot, waiting for his breakfast.”

And Noelle would look out and laugh. “Well, you’d better go out and give it to him!”

Nate missed Annie deeply and found it disquieting when, in the darkness of their bedroom, he caught himself thinking of her while making love to Noelle. He knew it was unfair, and it made him feel guilty and confused. Nate loved Noelle, but he still loved Annie-he always would.

As Noelle slipped into bed, she reached up to turn off the bedside light.

“Leave it on,” Nate said.

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Just because…”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that ‘just because’ isn’t a reason?” she teased.

“Mmmm,” Nate murmured, pulling her close. “But she forgot to tell me to watch out for the quiet ones.”

“I bet she did,” Noelle whispered huskily as Nate’s tongue lightly danced on her bare skin.

“I just want to be able to see all of you.”

“Why? Are you afraid you’ll forget who I am?” she teased.

At these words, Nate hesitated ever so briefly. It was barely a pause, but it was enough. Noelle’s heart stopped as she looked down at his face. Nate’s eyes were closed, unrevealing, and he did not reply. Noelle didn’t move or say anything more. She just lay there and allowed him to explore her body.

“I love you so very much,” he finally murmured, easing himself onto her and kissing her softly.

Noelle closed her eyes and, for the first time, did not try to shut out the thoughts of Asa that continually teased her mind. When Nate moved to her side again, she reached up to turn off the light and lay facing the wall. Nate slipped his arm around her waist and fell asleep, and as Noelle listened to the waves and to the slow, even sound of Nate’s breathing, a tear trickled silently down her cheek. In the darkness of the room full of memories, she knew that she would never be the only one he loved. She lay awake, and somewhere in the distance, she heard a truck start.

Sarah was waiting when Asa came in. He looked at his watch. It was 11:55. He grinned. “Made it,” he said. “Sorry to have kept you up, though.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re home. Where were you? We saw your truck when we were leaving and thought you must have gone with Isaac, but he said he hadn’t seen you.”

“Oh, I just went for a walk on the beach, and I guess I lost track of time.”

“By yourself?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re home and safe,” she said. “Don’t forget about church,” she added as she headed up the stairs.

“Me? Forget about church? Never!” he teased.

“You don’t need to be fresh.”

“Okay… sorry. Good night, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too. Good night.”

Asa sat down on the floor on the edge of Martha’s bed. She looked up at him and put her head contentedly on his lap as he stroked her velvety ears. She closed her eyes and sighed. Asa leaned back against the wall and thought about the childhood memories that had slipped into his mind that evening. Against a backdrop of blurred time, these memories were still as clear as if they had just happened. It amazed him how a simple sound or scent could trigger the memory of a moment or feeling. The ability to remember is so amazing, he thought. It’s as if certain memories have something more to tell, something more to teach, and that is why they are remembered so clearly.

In the morning, Sarah came down early and found Asa asleep next to Martha, his arm draped over her side, her head tucked neatly under his chin. She recalled how often she had found Asa, when he was little, sleeping on Martha’s bed. It had been years, however, and the sight of her grown son asleep on the dog’s bed brought a smile to her face and tears to her eyes. Martha looked up. Except for her thumping tail, she didn’t dare move.

The following Tuesday, Asa skipped his morning run. A heat wave was in the forecast for the Cape and the Islands, and he wanted to get an early start. He filled his jug with ice water and packed an empty water dish for Martha. He wondered if he should leave her home on such a hot day, but when he saw the longing in her eyes, he relented. “Make sure to find a shady spot,” he warned. She wagged her tail, and he helped her into the truck.

Fifteen minutes later, Asa pulled into the hardware store. Martha leaned out the window. “Be right back,” he called. He bought the paint, Antique Barn Red, and two brushes. He came out, put them in the truck, and walked quickly to the deli next door. He noticed how warm it was already and noted that he wouldn’t be able to leave Martha in the truck at all later. He ordered two sandwiches for lunch and poured a black coffee while he waited. He also bought a quart bottle of Tropicana. He went out to the truck, loaded his cooler, and climbed in. “Good girl,” he said, gently pushing Martha over to the passenger side. She wagged her tail and resumed her position as copilot with her head hanging out of the red ’53 pickup.

When he pulled up to the house, Asa saw the turquoise Bel Air parked in the driveway, and his heart raced. However, he was determinedly resolved to stick to his plan. He parked the truck, helped Martha out, and put his cooler in the shade. As he walked toward the garage to get the drop cloths and ladder, he noticed the water hose was snaking up over the stone wall and into the backyard. As he walked up the path, he saw Noelle giving Martha a drink from the hose.

She looked up and smiled. “Well, good morning! I was just innocently watering my garden when this big black beast came bounding up behind me!”

“Sorry. Did she startle you?”

“Only a little.”

“I didn’t expect you to be home today. Is it okay that I brought her?”

“Oh, it’s fine. She’s such a sweet old girl,” Noelle said, rubbing Martha’s head. “Anyway, I’m home because one of the other nurses needed to switch days this week. I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming, but I thought if you did, I could help you paint.”

This unexpected turn of events caught Asa off guard. He faltered but regained his composure enough to answer, “I’m sure you don’t want to spend your day off painting in the hot sun. It’s supposed to be miserable today.”