Nan Rossiter - The Gin and Chowder Club

Asa sat back silently and waited for Jen and Isaac to finish their drinks. He would not touch the one that was meant for him, and he avoided looking over at the bar. His normally good-natured disposition, influenced by alcohol, embarrassment, and frustration, had darkened dramatically. Nothing they said could cheer him. Finally, he excused himself and said he would be waiting outside.

Asa walked along the dock and peered down into the dark water. As if to confirm his own sexuality, he allowed his mind to relive the moment when he had stood with Noelle in the bedroom that afternoon. This time, though, she reached for his hand and pulled him toward her. He felt her press against him and knew she could feel how aroused he was…

“Asa,” Isaac called from the dock. “I don’t know what’s with you lately.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we’re heading out.”

Year-round residents of the famous Massachusetts peninsula enjoy the relatively moderate climate of their corner of New England. However, that is not to say that they don’t have their share of storms. In autumn, an occasional tempest of the sea actually does follow the weatherman’s prediction and make landfall. And in winter, classic nor’easters do occasionally hug the coast and bury the sand with snow. For the most part, though, Cape Codders are not forced to face the endless snowfall and harsh temperatures that their northern neighbors endure. Likewise, when southern New England is suffering through a stretch of heat and humidity, Cape Cod is usually enjoying an ocean breeze and significantly cooler temperatures.

When Asa was finally able to return to the house in Orleans, the Cape had already seen two days of unusually oppressive heat and humidity. A promise of relief was forecast, but only at the expense of severe thunderstorms, and Asa was anxious to replace the sill before it rained. He headed over after work, and with great apprehension, pulled up the sandy driveway. He was relieved and at the same time disappointed to find no one home. Well, which is it? he thought to himself. Relief or disappointment? How can it be both?

He grabbed the primed sill, his toolbox, and his shoulder bag from the front seat. He had brought his notebook along, although he wasn’t sure why.

He climbed out onto the porch roof and looked toward the sea. The sky was already an ominous gray. He set to work fitting the sill into the frame. When he had nailed it in place, he still had to rig the knotted end of both ropes into the grooves on the inside of the window. He patiently lifted the window, slid the knots into place, and pulled the window down. The window, offset by the weights, glided easily in its tracks. Asa gathered up his tools just as the wind began to whip at his clothes. He climbed inside, and with the curtains billowing around him, replaced the screen and gently closed the window. Asa then went to the other bedrooms and closed all of the windows. In the guestroom, he recognized the ornately carved bed frame that had been Annie’s. He was suddenly ashamed of his feelings. What would Annie think of all this? He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the errant thoughts and clear his mind once and for all. He heard a distant roll of thunder and turned to go down the narrow stairs.

Asa was putting his tools in his truck when Noelle pulled up the driveway. She smiled and waved as she rolled up her windows.

“Hi, how’s your hand?” she asked as she got out.

“Better, thanks.”

“Are you just getting here?” she asked, reaching into the front seat for a shopping bag.

“No, I’m all done and heading home.”

Noelle looked disappointed. “Oh,” she said, glancing at the sky. “I certainly hope this storm breaks this humidity.” As if on cue, the wind picked up again. “Hey, by the way, did you hear that Harry Kemp died last week?”

Asa looked surprised. “Gosh, no. I hadn’t heard. I knew he wasn’t well… We were just talking about him.”

“I think it happened last Tuesday.”

Asa shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, well…” He paused. “Anyway, your bedroom window is all set, and I closed the other upstairs windows, but I forgot to check the downstairs.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She paused. “Listen, would you like to stay-”

Asa shook his head. “I would, but I really should get going.” He could not have felt more torn, so he just stood there, wishing that some greater force would intervene. A sudden clap of thunder split the sky above them, and large raindrops splattered on their arms and faces. “You better go check those windows,” he said, opening the door of the truck, rolling up his window partway, and climbing in.

“Are you sure you won’t stay? I made a peach cobbler.”

“That’s tempting,” he said with a grin. “But I’m sure.” He had never been more uncertain of anything in his life. Noelle stepped back and smiled as Asa waved. He looked in his rearview mirror and watched her running into the house. He pulled away as it started to pour and couldn’t believe he had the will to leave. It was only when he reached the end of the driveway that he remembered he had left his shoulder bag on the porch.

Asa almost slipped as he ran back up the wet stone walk. The wind was whipping the trees in the yard, and he glanced over and saw movement by the pool. Noelle was struggling to close the patio umbrella before the wind took it away along with the glass tabletop it protected. With head bent, Asa ran to give her a hand, and then laughing, they raced for the house.

“Why’d you come back?” Noelle sputtered, trying to catch her breath.

“I forgot something.” He looked at the raindrops running down her cheeks and smiled. Then, unable to stop himself, he looked down at her blouse and teased, “Looks like you got a little wet.”

“Oh, and you didn’t,” she laughed. “Would you like a towel?”

“There’s no point-I’m just going to get wet again.”

“What did you forget anyway?”

Asa nodded toward the shoulder bag by the door.

Noelle raised her eyebrows. Asa tried to act nonchalant as he reached for it, but Noelle was closer and picked it up first. The top was open, though, and as Noelle swung it in front of her, Asa was able to reach in and slip out the notebook.

Noelle’s eyes lit up. “Is that some of your writing?”

Asa laughed. “Might be.”

“Did you bring it for me to read?”

“Maybe…,” he teased, taking a step back.

“Don’t tease-I really am interested.”

Asa stepped back again until he was leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. He slipped the worn book behind his back. He still wasn’t sure if he was ready for anyone to read his thoughts-especially this woman, who would surely figure out what had inspired them.

Noelle didn’t step forward. “Asa, I only want to read them if you’re ready to let me.”

Asa studied her dark eyes, searching again for the answer that only she knew. I am ready to let you, he thought.

“You can read them,” he said finally, but his smile was gone.

Noelle took a step toward him with her hands by her sides, not reaching. She just stood in front of him, and Asa’s heart pounded. He drank in the clean scent of her body mixed with the fresh fragrance of summer rain. Noelle did not look away but held the gaze of the clear blue innocent eyes that longed to know so much more…

All around them and within, the storm persisted. Noelle leaned toward Asa and brushed her lips against his skin. She tasted the nape of his neck and breathed in his sweet boy-man scent, her heart pounding in disbelief. Then she searched for his lips, his warm mouth, his gentle kiss in return.