green grows the lilac

“Looked just like her.”

     Merry was sniffing the lilacs. “Isn’t this the most heavenly thing you’ve ever smelled?” She looked at Bobby. “Have you told Kate? Or her brother?”

     “No, and I don’t know whether I should.”

    “I wouldn’t. Let’s see what happens when the cat is set amongst the pigeons. Maybe something will flutter loose. Not pigeons, but something more subterranean.”

    “You looked like you were having quite the confab with Kate’s brother.”

    “Well, I was. I found the scratches on his knuckles peculiar for a man, an actor, so concerned with his appearance. I read somewhere that Robert Redford used to examine his face in the mirror every day, fearful that he would have a pimple. And there were those scratches on his knuckles. And then there was the way he turned up. It seemed to me that he hadn’t told his sister that he was on the East Coast, or when, exactly, he was coming here. He seemed evasive.”

   “And, he wasn’t close with his father.”

   “No. He chose his mother’s side. Not that I blame him. Hard for the kids when loyalties are split like that. I didn’t get the feeling he would have killed over it, though.”

    “Somebody killed Dude!”

     There was barking outside. “Oh my, let’s see what the problem is now.” Merideth went to the door and watched as Young Earl used the old stile to get over the rock wall. Sister and Tucker were bounding across the lawn towards him, barking and wagging their tails in excitement. As he creaked down, Merideth saw Earl stoop and give the dogs something from his pocket.

     “Bobby, come out. You’ll see a sight I haven’t seen in fifty years.”

     Earl limped across the grass.  He must have a bad knee too, Merideth thought. He gave a sideways glance at Bobby.

     “This is Bobby Marshfield,” she said.

     “Taxi fellow.”  Earl reluctantly took the hand Bobby extended. “I thought you should know,” he said to Merideth. “Heard that noisy boat or one just like it the other night too. Odd. You said mention anything unusual. Thought I ought. I’ll be getting home now.”  He paused and looked at the white lilac next to her door. “Always liked that one. Can smell it all the way to my house if the wind is right.”  He turned and started walking away. The dogs followed him.

     “Thank you, Earl,” she called. “ You notice anything else, let me know.”

    “I don’t know,” she said to Bobby. “He’s hated me for fifty years. I’m not sure why he’s being helpful now. Or if he’s being helpful. Fishy. But the dogs like him. And it is a beautiful lilac. My grandfather planted it lo these many years ago.”

just rambling

“Have you been to the island before?”

    “No, never. That’s why I needed a cab! I know my hotel is close, but I don’t really know how to find it, and I didn’t want to wander around looking.”

    Bobby smiled.  “I shouldn’t take your money. It’s fifteen dollars for a two-block ride. How about you pay me ten more and I take you for a little tour?”

      “That sounds grand. An orientation drive.”

     “Do you want to drop your bags off first?”

    “No, I can’t really check in until two o’clock anyway.”

    “All right. We’ll loop around and wind up there.”  He glanced in the rear view mirror. An older woman. Grey hair. She took off the large sunglasses that hid much of her face and leaned back against the seat, gazing out at the ferry, which was already loading up again. Startling silver eyes. She seemed somewhat familiar. He pulled out of the waiting line and turned right. “This is really almost all there is of town. Water Street. I think we now boast three ice cream shops.” He rounded the left hand turn. “That’s the National on the left, the Surf on the right.”

   The woman looked right. “That’s the Surf?”

  “Junk shop on right. Liquor store on left. Here’s where the old Post Office was. It’s now a bagel shop. Closes at noon. And this is the only grocery store on the island. Some people call it Dean and DeLuca’s because of the prices. Real estate agency, in case you want to buy a house and stay for a while. Hardware store. The old hardware store used to be called Tiffany’s, but this one is not as bad. Harbor Pond on the right.”

    “Where is the cemetery?”

    “The cemetery,” he asked?

    “Yes. I heard there was a very old one. I’m interested in genealogy.”

    “I’ll show you,” he said.

     By the time he’d looped back around Beach Avenue to town and the Manisses, where she was staying, he had grown suspicious. Familiar grey eyes, interest in the graveyard and the Surf. Taken together, he was pretty sure.

    “Have you got a card? I’ll can you for all my transportation needs.” 

   He gave her a card, when he dropped her at the Manissees. She looked at it and then at him again. He down the Neck to see Merry.

the widow

The Surf Hotel lobby was a far cry from what it used to be under the old management. Kate vaguely recollected what the place looked like when Catherine bought it. Dark. Now it was bright and white, with vases of designer-designed flowers tastefully arranged. Hothouse flowers, out of season. The garden club would hardly approve. A discrete flat screen TV faced a chic furniture grouping. Art books were stacked on a coffee table. The rag rugs, jigsaw puzzles, checkerboards and pinochle scoreboards were nowhere to be found.

    Catherine was in her office, decorated in as tasteful and bland a style as Catherine herself. Beige and gold. The only color seemed to be in Catherine’s nose, which looked pink. There were crumpled Kleenexes on her otherwise pristine desk.

    “I saw Jerry,” said Kate. And then she wondered why.

    “He’s no help,” said Catherine. She stood up and took Kate’s hands.     “He doesn’t seem to get it. No idea how I feel. How you feel. He says he didn’t see you on the boat.”

    “I came yesterday and stayed with Bobby.” Everybody on the island probably knew that by now.

     Catherine made a slight moue of displeasure. “Your father didn’t care for him.”

     “I know, but I do. Anyway, I think I’ll stay here tonight if that’s okay.”

     “I saved your usual room.”

     “Yeah, next to Jerry’s!”

     “Do you want me to move you? Your brother’s across the hall.”

     “I can cope.”

    They discussed funeral arrangements.

     Catherine said she didn’t think she could give a speech.

     Kate said she would. She actually felt in charity with Catherine for maybe the first time ever. Except for the minister thing. Kate was only half Jewish, but her father had been a confirmed Jew. Well, a Bar Mitzvah-ed Jew.

     Catherine gave her a key to the room, and Kate went down to get Bobby’s bike, ride back to the shack and get her stuff.

    What the police hadn’t taken.

interlude

Kate was sitting outside the bagel shop feeding crumbs to the sparrows when Bobby passed by on his way to the boat. She waved, but he didn’t see her. She was stalling, she realized, but she was going to have to face her sooner or later. Might as well be now. She threw her coffee cup in the trash barrel, picked up Bobby’s bike and walked it slowly up the hill, past the liquor store and the antique store, to the Surf. She parked it in the bike rack and walked past the brilliant blue hydrangeas without seeing them, up the steps to the porch. She could see the ferry just coming in. As she walked through the door, a handsome man with gilt blond hair was coming out.

     “Finally,” he said. “My sexy niece!”

     “Jerry,” she said with distaste. She had forgotten about him. But she should have known he’d be here. He did not move aside to let her through the door, so she stepped back out onto the porch. “Catherine around?”

      “Yes,” he said. “And your room is right next to mine. I knew you’d be pleased. When did you get here? You weren’t on the first boat this morning, because I was, and I didn’t see you.”

     “I got here yesterday.”

     “Staying with the fuck buddy?”

     “Jerry, that’s crude. And rude. Let me past.”

     He stepped away from the door with a bow and gestured to the door. “Milady.”

    “Fuck you.”

    “I will make excuses for your language because you are grieving.”