Nan Rossiter - The Gin and Chowder Club

Asa looked at the money. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense. You did a great job, and I appreciate it-and I think Noelle enjoyed having you around.” He smiled and added, “Besides, all college boys need extra spending money.”

“All right. Thanks, Uncle Nate.”

Nate reached out to shake Asa’s hand. Asa was flustered by a sudden wave of shame and guilt, but he pushed it aside and grasped Nate’s hand, realizing how strong and honest his grip felt. “The sill is going to need a second coat. Would you like me to come by tomorrow and finish it?” he asked hopefully.

“There’s no need, Asa. I can handle it.”

“Okay.” Asa hesitated. “Well… is Noelle around?” he asked.

“No, she had to run to the store to pick up a few things.”

Asa immediately wondered which store. Maybe he could find her-

Nate interrupted his thoughts. “We are definitely planning to come over next week,” he said with a grin. “The thirty-first, right?”

Asa nodded. There was no way he could wait that long.

Asa’s truck was gone when Noelle returned. With a mixture of relief and disappointment, she carried the groceries up the walk. Hearing her steps, Nate held the screen door and reached for the bags.

“Is there more?”

“No, this is it.”

Nate opened the refrigerator and carefully placed each egg into its curved cup. He put away the milk and orange juice, and Noelle gently moved him aside to open the freezer and put away the ice cream.

“Why don’t you leave that out and I’ll have some with my cobbler?” Noelle took it back out and put it on the counter. Nate lifted off the top. “Do you want some? I’ll share,” he said with a grin.

“No… you have it,” she said.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

She forced a smile. “Nothing.”

He pulled her into his arms. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Noelle stiffened as Nate brushed his lips down her neck. He held her close, and she squeezed her eyes closed and silently pleaded, Don’t cry, don’t cry. Whatever you do, don’t cry!

Nate kissed her cheeks and lips. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“I’ve missed you too,” she managed to reply. Oh, God, what have I done? How am I ever going to do this?

Nate slowly unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it back, and softly kissed her shoulder. Noelle kept her eyes closed and prayed for forgiveness.

With Martha happily limping beside him, Asa walked along the beach in the late-afternoon sun. Every once in a while, the shiny black head of a seal bobbed above the surf and studied them curiously. Asa watched it until it went under again and then focused on waves farther down the shore, waiting for it to resurface. He smiled and wondered what Noelle was doing at that very moment. Perhaps making dinner or reading a book on the porch, or maybe she was lying by the pool. He pictured her, and to his dismay, hoped that she wasn’t. But what if she was? Why should Nate be the one to enjoy looking at her? Why should he be the one to touch her smooth skin? Why is he the one who lies beside her every night? Oh, God, why is he the one who gets to make love to her?

With shocking clarity, a merciless answer filled Asa’s consciousness: Because he is her husband! The answer echoed through his mind and blindsided him with yet another wave of jealousy and frustration.

“I don’t give a damn!” he shouted back, his fists clenching in fury.

August 31 dawned unexpectedly cool. It had been a chilly night, and the coolness of the morning air whispered of autumn. At breakfast, Samuel teased, “There is an age-old saying, you know…”

Sarah chimed in, “Yes, we know: ‘Six weeks from first katy did to first frost.’ Don’t remind us! It’s still summer!” Then she looked at Asa. “You have another present-why don’t you open it?” Asa had already opened several gifts: two wool sweaters, hiking boots, a wool jacket, and a collection of poems by Robert Frost. A second book, a novel, was from his father. To Kill a Mockingbird had just come out that summer, and Samuel said he hoped Asa didn’t mind that he had read it first.

Asa opened the book and saw his father’s inscription. “I’ve heard about it, Dad. Did you like it?”

“It was very good,” Samuel answered thoughtfully. “A good lesson…”

Asa looked at all the gifts and then at his mother. “You know, Mom, for someone who says ‘It’s still summer,’ you’ve certainly created a conflicting theme with these presents!”

“That’s true, dear. Look at the things you’ve given him,” Samuel said.

“Well, it gets cold in New Hampshire, and I just want him to be prepared.”

“I’m already packed,” Asa teased. “I don’t have room for these things.”

“You’ll just have to make room. Now open.”

Asa started to open the package from his brother. Martha, who was nosing around the breakfast table, came over to help tear the paper away.

Asa looked at the gift and smiled. “ Sermons and Soda-Water .” He held up the boxed set of three slim volumes for his parents to see.

“John O’Hara,” Sarah said thoughtfully.

“It’s in case you forget to go to church,” Isaac teased.

They all laughed and Sarah eyed him. “You’d better not!”

It felt good to laugh. It had been a long and lonely week. Even though he had spent it surrounded by friends and hanging out at the beach, Asa ached to see Noelle, to be alone with her once more. The week had dragged by, and it tortured him to realize that time was running out. He couldn’t think of any excuse to stop by the house, and every time he let himself think of Nate and Noelle alone, it drove him crazy. He tried to write, but nothing would come. Sitting at his desk, he just felt empty and lost and sad. The revolving rhythm of the lighthouse only served to further emphasize the fleeting passage of time.

Samuel stood to clear the plates. “Are you two going to be around today?”

The boys looked at their father, and Isaac replied, “Of course, Dad. Who else will pull the clam bellies for you?” He headed up the stairs to shower.

Sarah turned to Asa. “Are you really all packed?”

Asa leaned back in his chair and felt a wave of anxiety. “I think so,” he answered.

“Well, be sure,” Samuel said. “We’d like to head out first thing in the morning. Orientation is at two o’clock.”

“I still don’t see why freshmen have to arrive so much sooner than everyone else,” Asa grumbled. “Just think, Dad, if I stayed here and found a job, you wouldn’t have two tuitions to think about.”

Sarah studied him. She still hadn’t been able to put her finger on what was troubling her son, but she couldn’t help but think it was the prospect of going away. “Asa, everything will be fine. You’ll become adjusted in no time.” She followed Samuel into the kitchen, and Asa could hear them quietly talking. He leaned forward to listen.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately,” he heard his mother say. “He’s been so moody and withdrawn. I honestly think he’s hiding something.”

“You worry too much,” his father answered. “I’m sure he’s just anxious about school. You know he’s not like Isaac. He’s much quieter… and less outgoing. He’ll find his way once he gets settled and caught up in a routine.” Samuel paused and shook his head. “And I don’t know what he could possibly be hiding-I think that’s your imagination.”

“I hope so,” she sighed.

Asa leaned back, closed his eyes, and continued to stroke the noble black head that rested contentedly on his thigh.