Penelope's Suitors

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Spring, 2006

Laurie lived further up in the mountains, where the older houses had been built, and although there were no lake views, the homes were further apart than down below. The paved road gave way to dirt and gravel, and tall pines towered over the houses, shading the broad yards. Ancient stone walls divided a few properties, and occasional split rail fences separated the properties from the road. Somewhere, he crossed the line from the suburban of the lower developments to old county rural.

Not all the homes had numbers, so it was a little hard to figure which was Laurie's. He thought he found it from Mary-Lou's description—a two-story wooden house painted yellow. At the far end of the driveway, near a two-car garage, a man in a blue coverall was bent over the engine of a pick-up truck. There was plenty of room, so Ted pulled in. The man looked up briefly.

"Sorry. Busy today. I can't look at any cars. Call me next week."

"Actually, I was looking for Laurie Dufresne—she's Laurie Baskin now. Do you know where she lives?"

"Right here," he said, then went back to work. "She's not here now, though."

"Oh. Well, I was an old friend of hers." That got no reaction. "We worked together some years ago, when we were kids, at Twelve Pines. I was passing through. I though I'd stop and say hello."

"She went to the mall with the girls. She should be back soon, you're welcome to wait." He tinkered for a few moments, then stood up. He was a handsome man in his early forties, and his face was still boyish. From the neck up, he'd always pass for someone years younger than he probably was. But although he sported an athletic build, he was also showing signs of a gut.

"Could you give me a hand here?" he asked.

"I don't know anything about cars," admitted Ted.

"All you need to know is how to drive. Just get behind the wheel, and when I say, give it some gas and turn the key." Ted climbed in, and pushed aside some old local newspapers and boating magazines.

"Okay, now," he said, and Ted hit the gas and turned the ignition. The engine almost turned, but not quite. The man swore. "Just wait a sec." He fiddled some more. "Try it again." Ted did it again, and this time it turned over. "All right! Laurie's been asking me to fix this thing." He slammed the hood down. "Okay, you can turn it off." Ted turned it off and climbed out. The man look at him as if for the first time, wiped his hands on a rag, and then stuck out his right hand.

"Thanks. I'm Mick Baskin, Laurie's husband."

"Ted Jellinek. Laurie and I worked together at Twelve Pines when we were teens."

"Oh yeah. The Tolford place. The old man's granddaughter is in school now with ours. So where are you from?"

"New York City."

"No kidding. Come on in. I'll get you a beer." The living-room was clean but cluttered, with fishing gear piled in a corner, a bag of knitting on a chair, a stack of folded laundry on an end table, and a dog—at least part Lab—lying on a worn doggy bed and wagging his tail in greeting. "Have a seat," said Mick, and Ted parked himself on a couch that needed reupholstering, opposite a new big-screen TV. Mick disappeared into the kitchen and came out with two cans of Budweiser. He tossed one to Ted, and then sat in an easy chair. They popped the cans and drank in companionable silence.

"You're a mechanic?" asked Ted.

"For the county. I repair county service cars and trucks. But I do some minor things for others on the side. I don't really have a full garage here, but I can take care of small things. That's who I thought you were. But I promised Laurie I'd fix that truck." He took another swig. "I thought sometimes I'd start my own place, but who needs that kind of hassle."

"It's hard to be a businessman," said Ted.

"Yup. What line of work are you in?"

"I'm a writer, for a magazine in New York."

"How about that," he said. And drank again.

The house was set a fair distance from the driveway, so they didn't know Laurie had come back until the screen door swung open and they heard her voice.

"Mick! I hope you fixed that truck, because I need it tomorrow." Three little girls came crashing into the living room carrying bags.

"Daddy, look at what we got!" They pulled dresses, pants and shirts out of bags. They all had dark hair like their father, but their faces were their mother's. The two younger ones were pretty girls, and the oldest, about 15, already had her mother's feline beauty and lovely figure.

"I have to pick up all that stuff at Beckley's, and I really need the truck—Oh!" She peered at him for a moment in the dim living room. "Is it? Oh God, Ted?" Ted grinned and stood up. "Oh my God, it is you! Oh, I can't believe it!" She was perhaps a little thicker around the waist, with a few lines around her eyes, but still gorgeous, and still sporting her mane of auburn hair. She greeted him with a hug.

"I see you two met—Mick, did Ted tell you we worked at Twelve Pines all those years ago? It must be 20 years now. You know, I thought of you when Maxwell Tolford passed away. We heard about it here."

The girls were looking wide-eyed at the stranger.

"Girls, this is Mr. Jellinek. He's an old friend of your mama's. Ted, this is Charlene, Melissa, and Amber."

"They look just like you," said Ted. "And you look exactly the same."

"Oh, please," she said, but he could tell she was flattered.

"Can I call Paula?" asked Charlene, already pulling a pink cell phone from her pocket.

"Okay, for five minutes, then it's homework. And you two," she said, addressing the younger ones, "put your clothes away neatly."

"Yes, Mama," they chorused, and all three disappeared.

"Paula," said Mick. "She just saw her in school. Why does she need to call her again?"

"That's a question that doesn't need answering," said Laura. "Make yourself comfortable, Ted. I'm going to get a beer myself. It was hell at the mall." She returned a moment later and sat down in a chair.

"So you knew each other from Twelve Pines?" asked Mick.

"Oh yeah," said Laurie. "Ted was one of the Hall boys while I was a waitress at the diner. We all hung out on the beach evenings—Mick, you'll love this! Guess who Ted was hot and heavy with that summer…"

Oh no, thought Ted.

"…Mary-Lou, my old school friend. She was a lifeguard that summer."

"Mary-Lou Simone?" said Mick. "The one married to Phil? I just worked on his car. You're kidding." He grinned. Ted felt the heat rising into his face.

"Just a summer fling," he said.

"Oh, come on, Ted," continued Laurie. "You two made enough trips to the north cabins."

Mick looked at Ted with a new respect. "I'm really impressed. I gotta say, she always struck me as a wait-till-the-wedding-night kinda girl."

Laurie put down her beer and folder her arms. "Unlike me," she said. There was a dangerous tone in her voice, and Ted wondered if Mick picked up on it.

"Oh honey, I just meant that Mary-Lou—"

"—was a nice girl, not a slut like your wife," she said. "Everyone knew any guy could have me for the price of a drink."

"Now Laurie…" It was embarrassing, thought Ted, but at least it took the attention away from him.

"Wait-till-the-wedding-night," she mimicked.

Mick sighed and stood up. "I really ought to put away my tools," he said. "And by the way, I did fix the truck," he concluded, in an attempt to patch things up. "Anyway, nice meeting you, Ted. Help yourself to another beer." Mick pushed the screen door open and headed back to the yard. Before it slammed shut, Ted heard him saying to himself, "Mary-Lou—who'd have thought it…"

Laurie made herself comfortable again. "He's a good husband. Just needs to be put in his place every once in a while."

"So you're happy?" he asked, and she laughed.

"A well-behaved husband with a steady job, three pretty daughters, some work for me, and we manage to pay the mortgage. So it's worked out."

"When I last saw you, you were entering a cosmetology program."

"Yes. I graduated and got a job in Fort Bramwell—Maxwell Tolford gave me a really nice reference. Then a spot opened up in the Village and I worked there until after Mick and I married and Charlene came along. But they let me work part-time there afterward, and I also put in some hours at a make-up counter at the mall in Mohawk Falls."

"I remember the night you made-up Ariadne outside by the arcade in Fort Bramwell."

"Oh right, yes, I remember. She had a lovely face, still does. She moved back here and I see her occasionally. She mentioned you lived in New York City and wrote."

"Yes. I'm a reporter for a business magazine."

She looked shy for a moment, or as shy as Laurie could ever look. "Do you ever see Vic?"

"About a week ago. He looks good, and asked me to send his love."

She laughed again. "Is he married?"

"Yes. He has a wife and daughters, but I haven't met them. He looks good, though."

The shy look was replaced by a shrewd one. "He's rich, isn't he?"

"Not Tolford rich. But rich enough."

She sighed. "You know, I went to New York for a while after graduation. An old friend of my mom's worked as a secretary in New York, on Wall Street. She was real nice, said I could stay with her until I got settled. I landed a job and was there for several weeks." She took a sip of beer. "I had a fantasy of looking up Vic, and we'd get together and settle in the city. But you know what? I couldn't stand the noise, the crowds, the closed spaces."

"It takes some getting used to."

"Well, the more I tried, the worse it got. I finally hopped a bus back here."

"It isn't for everyone," said Ted.

"Are you married?" she asked. He smiled and shook his head. "Are you sorry you didn't marry Mary-Lou and settle down here?"

"That wasn't going to happen," he said, and they were quiet for a while.

"So what brings you all the way here? Just passing through?"

"I'm sort of here on business. I reconnected with Penelope Tolford after her father died."

"Yeah, I wrote a note to Ariadne when he died, but gosh, I don't remember when I last saw Penelope. What happened to her anyway? I bet she did something big. She was going places."

"She's a lawyer in NYC. And yes, she did go places. I'm sort of working for her now. She asked me to write a book about her father, and that means taking another look into William's death. So I've been talking to everyone who was there, trying to see if I can make any sense of it."

"Oh boy, imagine that," she said, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "You know, every now and then, I still think about that. You know, that was a fun summer, but what a hell of a way to end it." She looked at Ted. "You said you were looking into it. I thought it was just an accident?"

"It might not be," he said. "After 20 years, a few questions remained." Laurie looked at him hard. "I can't even think about that," she said.

Ted picked up his can—it was empty. "I've been speaking to some people, and a few questions popped up. Maybe nothing happened, but right now I'm curious. I'm just asking people what they remembered of that night."

"I remember you and Mary-Lou weren't there," she said, grinning. "Where did you guys go, anyway?"

"Everyone asks that," he said. "We went on a wild goose chase that ended when we drove Maxwell's Land Rover up Mount Drear."

"I figured something like that. Mick and I used to go up there before the kids. Charlene was conceived up there." For a few moments, with that flirty, provocative smile, Ted saw her on Vic's lap on an Adirondack chair by the fire.

"Do you remember how the evening played out? Who was there?"

"After all that time? I think everyone was there. We were at the fire until it started to drizzle. Then we went into the Hall. It seemed jammed."

"What about William? Did he make it to the Hall after you left the beach?"

"Actually, I think he disappeared." She straightened herself in the chair, closed her eyes, and thought. "I think Vic mentioned he had wandered off when it began to rain. Anyway, I remember finding a radio and turning it on, because William wasn't playing. So I guess he wasn't there."

"I heard that he may have gone off with that sometime girlfriend of his—" Laurie slapped her thigh.

"Yes! How could I have forgotten her! That weird little girl with the black makeup, what was her name—Donna?"

"Denise."

"Right. We called her 'The Zombie.' She was always mooning over William. I was so awful to her. But I don't think he had disappeared to be with her, actually. I seem to remember her sulking in a corner, and laughing about it with Vic."

"What about Matthew. Was he there?"

"He was kinda quiet. It was hard to remember. No—wait. He and Vic got into some sort of argument. Well, not really an argument, but Matthew said he wanted to go find William. He was worried, something about falling on the wet ground, or something like that, and Vic told him not to run off. He said he wanted Matthew around to help him clear the place eventually, especially with you gone, and Matthew said he'd be back, but he really was worried about William and was going to check your cabin. Vic thought he was being ridiculous. But the weird thing is that Matthew was right. His family is one of the old settlers in this county, like Stanislaus—he's still kicking around here. My grandmother always said some of those old families were a little odd, had second sight, or something like that. But grandma wasn't all there either."

"Did you see Ariadne?" he asked, trying to get back to the topic.

"Oh, Ariadne. You sort of just assumed she was there, hanging around. But I can't swear to her, after 20 years. Has it really been 20 years? I think some boy was trying to talk to her. She must've gone for a walk at some point, maybe with that boy, because Penelope came down and was really annoyed she couldn't find her. I told her to relax, Ariadne was big girl, and she just looked at me. You know how she could look at you, and those black eyes of hers could get so cold. Anyway, she just stormed off." She finished her beer. "I don't remember much else. You know that Matthew found William, of course. The police came, and at some point Ariadne was back. With Penelope."

"I think they found both girls up at the house."

"I guess so. You know, it's funny about Penelope," she mused. "I haven't seen her in years. You had a thing for her, didn't you? That's what I heard. You and Matthew both." She looked at Ted for a reaction, but he tried to give away nothing. "You know, he's still around here, too—Matthew. He became some big shot. Anyway, for a quiet girl, Penelope had her share of admirers. Too bad she didn't want either of you. I don't know what she was looking for."

"Maybe she didn't know either. Like me, she's still single."

"I bet she'd make a pretty high-maintenance girlfriend. But she wasn't all that bad, though. You know, she used to come to the diner, late. My shift ran until 2:30, and she'd come in around 2:00, when it was pretty quiet, and order a salad."

"Why not just make herself a salad at home?"

"I think she was lonely. We'd used to talk. Sometimes she was my only customer that late, and we'd have a little girl talk. She once ask me about Vic, if we were serious, you know."

"And what did you tell her?" asked Ted.

Laurie leaned forward. "I pulled up a chair next to her in the empty diner. And I told her we went to bed a week after we met, and that we had sex three times that night, and that nothing was better than lying naked next to Vic in that quiet cabin." Laurie sat back in her chair. "Well, she didn't blush, I'll give her credit for that. But you are!"

"Guilty as charged," said Ted, laughing. "You really haven't changed a bit."

"Thank you. You know, I asked her if she had a boyfriend, and she just smiled and shook her head. If I remember right, it was a kind of funny mysterious look, like she had a secret. But I don't know—maybe it was my imagination. She asked me if I had seen Ariadne hanging around any boys in particular—I hadn't. She seemed really concerned about her baby sister. You know, I made up Penelope once."

"Made her up?"

"Yes. I practically had to drag her into the ladies room at the diner, at the end of my shift. I took out my bag of cosmetics. I did a great job on her, I have to admit. Brought out those eyes of hers, did a little work on her angles. And when I was done, she just stared at herself in the mirror. I'll never forget that, she just kept saying, 'Is that me? Is that what I look like?'" She shook her head and smiled sadly at the memory. "Then she thanked me, and said she couldn't possibly go out like that. And she started scrubbing. Damn near scrubbed her face raw getting the make-up off, and practically ran out of the place. What a funny girl."

"Do you remember when this was?"

"After all this time? I can't be sure, but I think it was early in the summer. Yes, it probably was. She told me how excited Ariadne had been when I did her face, and that was pretty early that summer, so I kept offering to do her too, until she got tired of my asking her. But after that one time, I never brought it up again." Laurie had a dreamy look in her eyes as she reflected back, but then woke herself up and looked at Ted. "I don't really remember anything else."

Ted laughed. "I'm sorry I missed her like that. At any rate, it was great seeing you again, and I'm glad I came."

"I'm glad too. Have you seen Mary-Lou?" She smirked.

"Yes. The results were mixed. I didn't end the relationship as neatly as I might've."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh my. I'm not going to ask. You gave her a goodbye present, didn't you?"

"Yes, remember—I bought her earrings. The same time Vic bought you a necklace, in a Fort Bramwell jewelry store. We hitched a ride with Stanislaus. It must've been only a few days before...the end."

"I still have that necklace. I don't wear it anymore, but I have it." Another silence settled on the comfortable room. "I remember my short stay in New York, not sleeping one night, and looking out the window at the traffic, and thinking about how that summer ended, and wondering…well, wondering if things would've been different later, if it hadn't ended that way."

She shook the thoughts away. "I'm being silly. He probably was just drunk and careless."

"You may be right," he said, then stood up. "Thanks for your time, and your beer."

"Don't mention it. Mick and the girls will be expecting dinner before you know it." She stood up too. "Will you be seeing Vic again?"

"I promised I'd report back to him after I saw you."

"Then tell him this, from me." She put her arms around Ted, and gave him a full but gentle kiss. "Tell him I miss him."

In the driveway, Ted saw Mick parking the newly fixed truck as the setting sun cast the pines' shadows across the houses. They waved goodbye to each other. Over the next property he saw Laurie's three daughters running across the field behind their home, their bare legs pumping through the grass, and their hair flowing behind them. Ted could hear snatches of their conversation and laughter.

He got in his rental car and drove along the dirt road, back to the hotel.



Summer, 1986

Mary-Lou watched William, but stole glances at Ted. He kissed her and she closed her eyes.

On her right sat Matthew, who in turn favored looks at Penelope, on his right. She sat deep in her Adirondack chair, and her braid fell down her breast. With her back to the fire, and the sun gone from the beach, her face was unreadable as she watched William. Matthew leaned over and said something to her. She turned to him, and Ted saw an almost dreamlike expression on her face.

Matthew and Penelope spoke briefly, and she smiled and touched his hand.

One song followed another, without pause. His voice was soft and gentle, never very strong, and eventually it took on a ragged edge. But his fingers never faltered. The audience lost track of the number of songs, before the last chords died. William looked up, as if even he was surprised he had stopped. Then he reached down for a bottle; at some point, someone had procured him a beer. One empty bottle already lay on its side, and now William drained a second amidst warm applause.

"Brief break. You can only rent this stuff," he said, with a shy smile.

"You're coming back?" asked Denise, plaintively.

"Of course." He carefully placed his guitar in its case and handed it to Denise. "You're in charge of the guitar until I get back." Her eyes shone.

William bent down and whispered something to Vic, and then strode off to the Hall.

"He's awfully good," said Penelope.

"I don't suppose you get much in the way of entertainment up here," said Denise. Penelope turned her dark eyes onto Denise, but said nothing. Denise was clutching the guitar like a lover.

"I mean you do," she said quickly. "I know you're from New York City. But what kind of entertainment can you get up here?" Ted felt Mary-Lou squeeze his hand hard. "Even your movie theater is showing movies that played more than a month ago in New York." Laurie had woken up, and was pursing her lips. Her cheeks were flushed. Matthew drummed the arm of his chair with his fingers.

Denise was oblivious.

"Do you get down to the city much?" she asked Penelope.

"In the winter. The resort is closed then," she said, low and soft.

"Do you see shows? Concerts? Maybe we can get together in the city sometime—so many of us here are from the city…" No one said anything. Denise appealed to Ariadne, still prone on her blanket. "My father has a friend who can get tickets to sold-out concerts at the Garden. What do you like to see?" Ariadne frowned.

"Our Dad takes us to the Nutcracker every year…have we ever gone to the Garden?" she asked her sister.

"No we haven't. And we're pretty busy when we go to Manhattan," said Penelope.

"I can imagine. You're probably ready to go out of your mind. I would if I lived here." Mary-Lou dug her nails into the palms of Ted's hand. Matthew's drumming became more insistent. "Well, if you're around Christmas break, maybe we can get together." Everyone was silent. Denise looked expectantly at Penelope, who said nothing. The silence stretched on.

"You know what I think, sweetie? I think you'll have to go to the Garden all by your lonesome," said Laurie. Vic stroked her hair as if she were an angry cat he was trying to calm. Denise turned sharply and started to speak, but then thought better of it.

"I think I'm going up. It's late," said Penelope.

"I'm parked in the lower lot. I'll drive you up," said Matthew.

"It's okay."

"I don't mind. It's time for me to head home anyway."

"Well, thank you." She stood and took at few steps, then turned and looked at her sister. "Are you coming?" Most of the others had slipped back to their cabins in the darkness. Denise was the last guest, alone with Vic and Laurie, Ted and Mary-Lou.

"I thought I'd listen to William some more," Ariadne said.

"He's not coming back. That's it for the evening," said Penelope.

"But he said—"

"Suit yourself," said Penelope. "Just be home by midnight." Ted could see her now by the light of the dying fire. She glanced around the half circle. "Thank you all for inviting me to your cookout. I really enjoyed it." She smiled, and there was the same deep serenity Ted had seen before.

She tucked her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt. Matthew raised his arm in a silent gesture of goodnight, and they walked across the beach.

Ariadne stood up. Was it the make-up Laurie had helped her with? The light that had illuminated her sister's face now caught her striking beauty.

"I guess I'll go up with them," she said. "Thanks guys!" She ran to catch up to Penelope and Matthew.

Denise looked absolutely crushed, and when she thought it couldn't get any worse, a voice suddenly intruded from the path that led toward the guest cabins.

"Denise, are you still here?"

"I'm here, Mom. I have to wait for William to get back."

"It's okay," said Vic. "I'll see he gets it back." He held his hand out for the guitar. Laurie smirked. Denise stood, and now the firelight exaggerated the embarrassed red flush on her face, an unfortunate contrast to the black make-up. "Thanks for handing out the flyers," he continued. She spent a moment considering whether he was being sarcastic, then ran into the night.

"Did you have a good time with your friends?" they heard her mother ask.

The four were quiet for a few minutes, listening to the crackle of the fire, the crickets, and the almost imperceptible sound of small waves lapping on the beach.

"If you ask me," said Ted, "I think we should pile into a car and head down to the Garden." They laughed.

"I shouldn't have spoken to her like that," said Laurie.

"I'm glad you did," said Mary-Lou. "If that's what New York girls are like, no wonder we're so popular."

"Here, here," said Vic. "Ted, throw some more wood on that fire. It's getting cold. We'll move our chairs closer and stay until the sun rises over the mountains."

"I ought to go soon," said Mary-Lou.

"But 'soon' isn't 'now,'" said Ted. A few minutes later, the fire was roaring again and the two local girls sat in the laps of their city boyfriends.

"There's a meteor shower tonight," said Mary-Lou. "When my brothers were in high school, the three of us once drove up Mt. Drear to watch. It's so dark up there, it was great."

"Mt. Drear? What kind of name is that? Sounds spooky."

"He was a person. At any rate, there's a Drear plot in the village graveyard, but they're not around anymore."

"Can we drive up?"

"In the old station wagon? Are you kidding? Even in the daytime you need four-wheel drive and good brakes. It's a twisty, steep dirt road, with a tiny place to park near the top. We went in my Dad's Jeep."

"Ask if you can borrow it." She turned to look at him in the dark.

"Tell you what mister, you ask him. 'Sir, could you lend us your jeep so I can take your only daughter to an empty field late at night.' But do it when I'm not around."

"Good point." Ted buried his face in her hair. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of smelling the lake in your blond tresses."

"I love listening to the ridiculous way you talk," she murmured. Ted's mind wandered to William, probably pacing in the cabin, wondering if Denise was gone and if it was safe to come back and retrieve his guitar. Matthew—was he happy with the evening? Perhaps he listened to the radio as he drove home, turning it off as he pulled into his driveway so he didn't wake up his parents.

Ariadne would be too wound up to sleep. She probably went to the basement and was flipping aimlessly through TV stations. And Penelope? If he went by the Stone House, he'd see the light in her bedroom window, he expected. She'd be reading in bed. More literature for college? Or was she just thinking?

Mary-Lou's breathing became very regular. She relaxed against him; he could feel her heartbeat and realized she was asleep.

Ted became aware of the exquisite silence. Even the lake seemed to have gone to sleep and the dry wood in the fire hardly crackled. For a moment, he thought he heard Denise in her cabin crying herself to sleep, curled up in her disappointment and humiliation, with her make-up running onto the clean white sheets.

Mary-Lou shifted against him, without waking. Then he heard a raccoon shuffling in the woods, and his thoughts turned to other matters.