Nan Rossiter: The Gin and Chowder Club

Asa loved Nate’s old house almost as much as the memories. As a boy, he thought that the wood-shingled bow roof looked like an upside-down ship. The house was sided in the traditional style of Cape Cod. It had painted clapboard on the front and weathered gray shingles on the ends and on the back. As Asa walked to the front door, he noticed that the deep red paint on the trim was peeling, as was the paint on the clapboard. The front door was original: stained oak, solid and heavy. Asa lifted the old circular iron knocker and tapped it. Noelle answered almost immediately.

“Asa, you don’t have to knock,” she said, inviting him in. “ You know you can just come in.”

Asa half smiled. “I wish that were so…”

She studied his eyes. “Nate is on the back porch,” she said quietly.

Asa nodded and looked over her shoulder, his heart suddenly pounding. He reached for her hand and pulled her toward him. To his surprise, she didn’t resist. He felt the curve of her body fit naturally into his and lightly traced the outline of her low-cut blouse. He kissed her softly until they heard movement on the porch. Noelle quickly pulled away and shook her head in disbelief.

She turned toward the kitchen and said loudly, “I have a peach cobbler in the oven, but it’s not quite ready. Would you like some iced tea?”

“Sounds good,” Asa murmured, leaning against the door and waiting to regain his composure before following her.

Nate looked up over his glasses. “Hey there,” he said, standing and putting down the Sunday paper.

“Hey, Uncle Nate,” Asa said, shaking his hand. Nate motioned to a chair. Asa looked around and noticed that the cushions still had the same soft fabric he had fallen asleep on as a boy. He smiled-he had always thought that this porch was one of the most pleasant spots on Earth. It was screened in, and no matter how hot the day, there was always a cool ocean breeze drifting through. It was spacious and had several sitting areas: cushioned wicker chairs that circled a glass cocktail table, a small dining table with wooden chairs in the corner overlooking the ocean, and a long wooden swing on the far end, just like the one at home. Finally, hanging year-round from the ceiling was a string of small white Christmas lights that sparkled at night and gave the porch a festive look, even when there wasn’t a party.

Asa sat down, and Noelle brought out a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses on it. She poured a glass for each of them and handed one to Asa.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, a little too quickly, and handed the other glass to Nate.

“Well, Asa,” Nate started, “Noelle and I have been talking, and we don’t want you to feel pressured into this job. If you change your mind and decide that you have more going on than you can handle, please just say so. We’ll certainly understand.”

Asa nodded. “Well, I’d like to give it a try and see how it goes. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Nate looked at Noelle. “All right, then,” he said. He turned back to Asa. “You probably noticed that the front of the house is peeling. Ideally, we’d like to have it scraped and repainted. It’s not very high, so I think a stepladder will be sufficient. The sills out there are in pretty good shape, but the trim is also peeling and needs to be scraped and repainted. I painted the trim on the ends of the house last summer, so they are fine, but there are three sills in the back that, between the weather and the ocean air, constantly take a beating. You can get to them from the roof of the porch,” he said, pointing up. “I don’t know if they need to be replaced or if they can just be painted and last another season.” He hesitated. “Why don’t we go take a look?”

Asa put down his glass and followed Nate up the narrow stairs. Growing up, he and Isaac had often played hide-and-seek in this house. No rooms had ever been off-limits, so Asa knew every closet, corner, and hiding spot. However, he had not been upstairs since before Annie died. As he climbed the worn treads, he was overwhelmed by a rush of memories. Asa stepped into the bedroom and immediately noticed that the room had been painted. He also realized that the old canopy bed and matching furniture had been replaced. The last time he had stood in this room was when Sarah had brought them over to visit Annie. At the time, Isaac and Asa had not realized the importance of their visit; they had not known that their mother had brought them over to say good-bye. Instead, they had thought that their dear friend was going to get better and invite them over again to play cards, or read, or swim. They had sat on the bed and held her hands; they had laughed with her and told her all of their latest adventures; and then they had kissed her on the cheek and said, “See you soon, Ole Pie,” just as they always had, and hopped down the stairs.

A week later, Uncle Nate had come to the house with tears streaming down his drawn cheeks. Asa had felt a scary, tight knot in his stomach. Why was Uncle Nate crying? Sarah had hugged Nate and cried too. Then he had turned to kneel down in front of the boys and quietly told them that Annie had died. At first, Isaac hadn’t believed him. He told Nate that he had just seen her and that she was fine. Asa had just stood there, his fists clenched, his eyes stinging. He was bewildered at his brother’s disbelief, at Nate’s tears-and his mother’s tears too. He ran to her, and she had just held him tightly.

Asa was overwhelmed by the sudden memory of all this. Nate turned and looked back and saw Asa’s eyes glistening. “I guess you haven’t been up here in a while,” he said.

“Yeah,” Asa said quietly.

“I miss her too,” Nate said, putting his hand on Asa’s shoulder. “The old furniture is in the guest bedroom.” Then he turned back to the window and pushed it up as high as it would go and took the screen out. He leaned it against the dresser. “How are you with heights?” he asked. “It’s not too bad out here-and the view is great!” They stood on the roof looking out over Nauset Beach, and Asa mentioned that he was meeting Isaac there later.

Nate replied, “I guess we better hurry up, then. Noelle made a peach cobbler just because you were coming, and she’ll be upset if you don’t have time to have some.”

Nate pointed to the sills, and they decided that at least one of them would need to be replaced. Asa described to Nate how they were doing the job at the coast guard station, and Nate felt confident that Asa would have no problem replacing it. He told him that he had an account at the hardware store and to charge whatever supplies he needed. When they came back into the kitchen, Noelle was just dishing out the cobbler. She looked up and smiled gently. Asa returned the smile and longed to hold her again.

“It’s even better with vanilla ice cream,” Nate said, opening the freezer.

“Sounds good,” Asa managed softly.

They sat out on the porch and visited a while more. Nate asked Asa how his last year at the Gunnery had been and reminded him that it was his alma mater too. Asa answered that the year had gone well; he had been fourth in his class, and if it hadn’t been for calculus, he probably would have been salutatorian. It was quiet for a minute, and then Noelle asked him if he was looking forward to college. Asa looked at her and nodded thoughtfully before feeling the need to look away. He suddenly realized that his feelings about going away had changed. Noelle commented that Hanover was a pretty little town and that she loved the White Mountains.

Asa watched the easy way Nate and Noelle interacted with each other and felt a wave of jealousy sweep through him.

He picked up his glass and plate, and stood. “Well, I better get going. The cobbler was great. Thanks.” He smiled at Noelle.