It wasn’t as if Connie hadn’t had any ideas for her novel before she talked to Elaine. The problem was that she’d had too many — a science fiction novel in which some deadly disease swept across the planet, a mystery about a teenager who disappeared on a field trip, a fantasy about knights and unicorns, and even another romance, set in the Middle Ages. But this was the first idea that seemed capable of taking root. Perhaps her character Eileen would have an over-bearing and disapproving mother?
Connie shifted her two sacks so that their weight was more evenly distributed. It really was quite dark, and Willow Brook didn’t seem to spend much on streetlights. Once you got away from downtown — a block containing the grocery store, the bank, a diner, and an abandoned department store, the only light came from houses and the moon, which was half full. The sidewalk was uneven, too, here and there broken and lumpy because of a tree root. Connie had to watch where she was going, if she didn’t want to fall. Even so, the inevitable happened. Her toe caught on a bit of pavement; her sacks threw her off balance; she stumbled and twisted to land on grass rather than concrete.
“Are you all right?”
Connie looked up into the face of a handsome young man, auburn-haired with bright blue eyes. Lamentably, he smelled of fish.
“Let me take your bags. As soon as you’re sure that no bones are broken, I’ll help you up,” he said.
Connie relinquished her hold on the plastic bags. “I’m fine,” she said.
A strong hand gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet. “You’re sure you’re all right?” the young man inquired anxiously.
“Positive,” said Connie. “I think you must be Danny Steele, whom I used to play with.”
“It’s Dan now, and you’re Connie, come to take care of your grandmother’s affairs.”
Connie looked at him in surprise.
“Word travels fast in Willow Brook,” said Dan. “Old Mr Frank saw your car in the driveway, and mentioned it to Janey Holliday — she was a couple of years behind us at school — when she was out running, and she told her boyfriend Travis, who told me when I ran into him at the hardware store in Bridgeport. Of course, none of us were sure it was you — it might have been a lawyer or real estate agent or something. It’s good to see you again, even if you do throw around words like ‘whom.’”
“I was an English major,” Connie said with a laugh.
Dan had a flashlight with him, and he turned it on as he walked her home. “You need one of these if you’re going to go out walking at night,” he said. “Not that I’d recommend making a habit of that, because Willow Brook’s safer than the city but you never know. Anyway, these big old trees look nice, but they tend to block out the moonlight.”
By the time they reached her front door, Connie was wondering if she might get used to the smell of fish — but no, she couldn’t be disloyal to Elaine.
“There’s not much to do in Willow Brook,” Dan said hesitantly, “but would you like to hang out at the park tomorrow evening? We could talk, throw a frisbee around, maybe grill some fish if I catch any.”
“That sounds nice,” said Connie, “but I already promised to do something with Elaine. Would it be okay if I brought her along?”
“Sure,” said Dan. “You can bring Norman, too, if you want.”
They agreed to meet in the park at 4 p.m. “It is good to see you again,” Dan said earnestly, looking into her eyes.
Connie was tempted to say something flirtatious, but she didn’t want to encourage Dan. “Good to see you, too,” she said brightly.
“Here, take my flashlight,” he said.
Connie pushed it away. “No, I’ve got one in my grandmother’s junk drawer,” she said. “You’ll need it for your walk home.”
Dan turned away sadly.
“See you tomorrow!” Connie couldn’t help calling.
He waved and disappeared into the gloom.
Inside, Connie let out a deep breath. It would be so easy to have a fling with Dan — fish smell aside — and maybe he would turn to Elaine on the rebound when she left, but that wasn’t a solution that Connie wanted. She put away the groceries and then phoned Elaine.
“No,” said Elaine, when Connie told her that she’d run into Dan and suggested the three of them get together then next afternoon.
“It will give you a chance to get to know each other,” said Connie.
“We’ve known each other all our lives,” said Elaine. “No, if he wants to go out with you, that’s fine. I’d just be in the way.”
“But I don’t want to go out with him,” said Connie.
“Not good enough for you?” There was a dangerous note in Elaine’s voice.
“He’s gorgeous,” said Connie, “but it wouldn’t be right. Oh, do say you’ll come, Elaine.”
“Oh, all right,” said Elaine, “but I think it’s a mistake.”
The next morning Connie sat and stared at her computer for about an hour. She wrote a paragraph about Cottonwood Creek, then highlighted it and deleted it. The big question was, should she write herself into the novel as Eileen and Don’s old school chum?
Caroline tripped on a tree root as she tried to navigate a path beneath the dark overhanging branches. Her groceries scattered as she fell to the ground.
“Need some help?” The inquiry came from a deep-voiced man behind her. Strong hands circled her narrow waist and pulled her easily to her feet.
“Oh!” A cry of pain escaped her as she tried to put her weight on her ankle. “I think I twisted it in the fall.”
“No problem.” The man scooped her into his arms as easily as if she was a child.
Caroline looked up into his face and saw that it was Don Silver, the red-haired, turquoise-eyed hunk that her dearest friend Eileen was in love with. “No,” she protested softly. “Put me down.”
“It’s only a block to your house,” said Don. “Yes, I know who you are. Little Carrie Slate, the dark-haired beauty who broke my heart back in grade school when she left Cottonwood Creek for the big city.”
“But I had to go,” said Caroline. “My dad got out of the Navy and took a job in another state.”
“And now you’ve come back to break my heart again,” Don growled. “Haven’t you.”
“No, no, I don’t want to break anyone’s heart,” wept Caroline.
“Then you’ll let me love you — a little? As long as you’re here?”
“I can’t,” Caroline sobbed, her breast heaving. “Eileen is in love with you. It would break her heart.”
“Then it will have to be our little secret,” said Don as he covered her mouth with his own.
Connie read the words in dismay. She doubted very much that a secret romance with Dan Steele was the answer. And Elaine would be furious if she told Dan how Elaine felt. She highlighted the passage but she couldn’t quite bring herself to delete it.
On the other hand, perhaps she could sublimate her own feelings by writing about Eileen and Don — and Caroline. She clicked on “save” instead.
But what happened with the groceries? Connie couldn’t help wondering.
“My groceries!” Caroline exclaimed, pulling away from Don’s hungry lips. “I won’t have a thing to eat tomorrow.”
“You could come to my place.” Sandpaper stubble scratched her soft cheek as Don nibbled her ear. “I’d be happy to fix you breakfast.”
Should she have “stubble” and “nibble” in the same sentence? Connie questioned. And strictly speaking, she should omit “soft” since she was writing from Caroline’s point of view.
“No!” Caroline ordered fiercely. “Put me down and help me gather up my things.”
“I’m yours to command, milady,” Don said with a sardonic smile. “At least, for now.” He quirked an eyebrow.
Connie couldn’t help giggling. She had never expected to have a character with a sardonic smile, let alone one who quirked an eyebrow, but here he was, come to life on the page. And, despite the fact that he regularly wrestled hundred-pound marlins out of the sea, Don never smelled of fish but of fresh ocean breezes. She hadn’t meant for Cottonwood Creek to be close to the ocean, but a beach certainly offered possibilities.
She sat back and considered her work. Writing a porn novel had never been her intention, but that was what this was rapidly becoming. Oh, well, her writing group had always said that she needed to work on her sex scenes. Could she flirt with Dan and call it research? Well, not if she wanted to keep Elaine as a friend, that was for sure.
Connie saved everything, including the quirked eyebrow, and shut down her computer. She still had to drive to the supermarket to do the rest of her grocery shopping and pick up some batteries for her grandmother’s flashlight.
More important, she had to figure out what she and Elaine should wear when they went to the park. It would probably be best if she over-dressed — would high heels be too much? And she definitely thought Elaine should wear shorts. Connie recollected a top that her mother had worn only once because her grandmother had objected to it. She went and rummaged in the chest of drawers in her mother’s old room until she found it. Yellow seersucker — Elaine would look good in yellow, she thought — with tiny puffed sleeves, it tied at the midriff. Even if Elaine insisted on wearing blue jeans, she’d still get Dan’s attention. Connie put the top in the washing machine along with her clothes from her trip and then set off for the store.
“I’ll look like a trollop,” Elaine protested several hours later. Connie was ready to shake her. Elaine had protested when Connie told her she’d have to wear the top without a bra. Now she was upset because Connie wanted to turn her Bermuda shorts into cut-offs.
“There’s nothing more dowdy than Bermuda shorts,” said Connie. “And old-fashioned. Don’t you have any short shorts?”
“They make my knees look knobby,” said Elaine.
Connie looked at her knees. She couldn’t help agreeing that they were not Elaine’s most attractive feature. “I know what,” she exclaimed. “Do you have any Capri pants?”
“What?”
“Pedal-pushers,” said Connie.
“No,” said Elaine.
“Well, let’s see what we can find.”
The chest of drawers in Connie’s mother’s room was proving to be a treasure trove of vintage clothing. Connie found a pair of pedal-pushers that actually matched the top, being made of yellow canvas with little ties just below the knee. Best of all they fit Elaine perfectly.
“They’re a little tight,” Elaine complained.
“You have to make the most of what you’ve got,” Connie pointed out.
“Don’t you think you’ll be a bit too warm?” Elaine asked.
Connie was wearing a knee-length grey skirt, a baggy grey sweater and black pumps. With her hair swept into a French chignon, she thought that she looked about 35, at least.
“And you’ll have a hard time playing frisbee in high heels,” Elaine continued.
“That’s kind of the idea,” said Connie. “You and Dan will have to play frisbee without me, while I talk to your father.”
Hearing of the outing, Norman had insisted on coming, too. Connie intended to have a chat with him, focusing on the desirability of him making himself scarce when Elaine was talking to Dan.
As they entered the Willow Brook Community Park, Elaine felt like she was going to be sick and said so. “It’s okay if you faint,” Connie answered. “I’m sure Dan will be very solicitous.”
This was not a comforting thought. Elaine only wished she could faint; it would be much less embarrassing than throwing up.
“Straighten up,” Connie added. “Good posture creates good energy.”
Just then they spotted Dan. He was at a grill over near the creek. He waved and pointed to a picnic table under a tree where his stuff was.
Connie wrested Elaine’s bag from her nervous clutch. “I’ll set up,” she said. “You go and talk to Dan.”
“But I don’t know what to say,” Elaine moaned.
“Ask him what kind of fish it is,” said Connie. “I don’t know. Talk about the weather.”
It was stupid to ask Dan what kind of fish it was, Elaine thought rebelliously as she walked across the grass. Trout was the only thing legal to catch this time of year, and Dan was no scofflaw. Still, Connie’s suggestion did help.
“Nice fish,” she said, after a cursory glance at the grill. “Where did you catch it?”
“It’s a secret place,” said Dan. “Don’t laugh, but I call it fairyland.”
Elaine was surprised enough to forget some of her nervousness. “Why?” she asked.
“I think I saw a fairy there early one morning,” said Dan. “It was probably a dragonfly, but it really did look like a fairy in the mist.”
“That sounds pretty,” said Elaine.
“Oh, it’s a gorgeous place,” said Dan. “There’s a little waterfall running into the pool, and at daybreak, the light’s just right to make a rainbow. There are some unusual mushrooms there, too — I’ll give you directions, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, not even your father.”
“I’d like to see the rainbow,” said Elaine. “Maybe I’ll skip going to the market one morning and come to your fairyland instead.”
Dan turned the fish over with his spatula. “How’s the garden doing?” he asked.
“Great!” said Elaine. “I brought some strawberries for our picnic.” She wished suddenly that she hadn’t surrendered her bag to Connie. She could have done something daring like feed a strawberry to Dan.
“Howdy, Dan.”
Elaine turned and saw that her father had come up next to her.
“Norman!” Connie called. “I could use your help over here!”
But Norman didn’t budge, and Elaine knew why. Setting the table was women’s work. She turned and rejoined Connie.
“I didn’t want you to come,” Connie fussed. “I wanted your father to leave you and Dan alone.”
“I know,” said Elaine, “but he wouldn’t think of that.”
The trout was soon cooked and brought to the table. Elaine had brought a small jar of mixed dried herbs — parsley, sage, and tarragon — and everyone agreed that it added a certain something to the fish. “And the herbs are healthier than salt,” Connie said approvingly. Compliments were paid to the fish, the strawberries, and the rolls that Connie had brought, although she demurred at the last, saying she had just picked them up at the store.
Connie had also brought a bottle of white wine and four plastic wineglasses. “To old friends!” she said, making a toast. “Now you two young’uns run off and play frisbee,” she said. “I want to catch up on the gossip with Norman.”
“Elaine probably knows more about what’s going on in Willow Brook than I do,” he grumbled.
Elaine almost sat down at the table again, but the look Connie gave her was so fierce that she picked up the frisbee instead and headed for the open field with Dan following.
Her first throw was not very good. Instead of sailing through the air horizontally, the frisbee flew up and crashed about five feet from her. Dan picked it up and flipped it — perfectly — back to her. On her second attempt the frisbee made a smooth arc and landed some distance away from both of them. Dan retrieved it and came back to her.
“Look,” he said, “this is how you’re supposed to hold it. It’s all in the wrist.” He handed the frisbee to Elaine. She tried to hold it the same way Dan did, but he shook his head. “Make it flatter,” he said. He adjusted her grip. “Now throw.” To her delight, the frisbee traveled twenty feet in a nice straight line. “Perfect!” Dan congratulated her.
He started to go after the frisbee, but then turned back. “Um, Elaine?” he said. “That top you’re wearing is kind of suggestive, you know. I mean, you’re okay with me, but some other guy might take advantage.”
Elaine knew she was blushing. Her face and even her midriff felt like they were on fire.
“It was Connie’s idea, right?” said Dan.
Elaine nodded. “She’s kind of a matchmaker.”
Dan patted her hand kindly. “She doesn’t understand that it’s like you’re my little sister. It would be like incest, you know?”
No it wouldn’t, Elaine objected inwardly, as Dan trotted after the frisbee. They tossed it back and forth until Elaine missed a catch because she had to slap a mosquito.
“I win!” Dan called.
Connie overheard him as she joined them. “What’s the winner’s prize?” she asked.
“A kiss,” said Dan.
“From the loser,” Connie interpolated.
Elaine shook her head. She knew that wasn’t what Dan had meant. Nevertheless, when he came up to her, she reached up to give him a peck on the cheek. To her surprise, he turned his head so that her kiss landed on his lips. Elaine couldn’t figure out why he did that until she heard him say, “And now another kiss from the referee.” Without a doubt, this had been the worst evening of her life.
Connie gave him a swift peck and darted away before he could grab her. Elaine felt uncomfortable. She knew her father would disapprove of all this romping, as he’d call it. She looked around, and saw that he was gone.
“I told him we’d get you home safely,” said Connie.
As they left the park they passed the mock pirate ship that had been set up for children to play on. “Do you remember when we played pirates together?” Connie reminisced.
“Yes, I was the captain,” said Dan, “and the two of you were my mates.”
“I seem to recall that I was the captain,” said Connie, “and you were my mate and Elaine was our captive.”
“Connie, don’t,” said Elaine. “Dan knows you’re trying to hook us up together. It won’t work. He told me it would be like incest.”
With that, she turned and hurried home, not caring whether they followed her; indeed, hoping they would leave her to cry in peace.
Connie stared after her blankly for a moment, then stepped forward. “I should go with her,” she said.
Dan grabbed her arm. “No, I think she would rather be alone. She’s not a little kid any more, doing whatever you tell her.”
Connie pulled away from him. “I know that,” she said crossly. “I just — “
“You just thought you’d amuse yourself by starting a romance?” said Dan. “Elaine hasn’t had it easy since her mother died. She had to grow up fast, and she did, taking care of her father and the garden, and making a business from her flowers and fruits. She and I are good friends, and the last thing she needs is somebody interfering in her life.”
“I’m not interfering,” Connie said hotly. “It’s Norman, telling her it’s high time she got married and started having children.”
Dan shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said. “She’s not ready for marriage and children yet; she’s like a child herself.”
“She’s the same age we are,” Connie reminded him.
“Chronologically,” said Dan. “So what do you want me to do? Go out and catch some eligible bachelors? Because there aren’t too many fish in Willow Brook’s sea.”
“I suppose that’s an idea,” said Connie. “Do you have an old college roommate you can invite for a visit?”
“Actually, I do,” Dan said with a laugh. “But I don’t know whether you’d consider him ‘eligible.’ He’s a computer geek, spends all his time in virtual reality.”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Connie. “Give him a call.”
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