That Camden Summer Read online

By all indications, she would see a lot of Isobel around her house. If that meant running into Isobel’s father occasionally, Roberta would simply have to grin and bear it.

  She put him from her mind as she bobbed down Washington Street in shoes that grew damper with each step. At the north end of Main she stood under the sign she’d been unable to read the day she arrived. Beneath their names the Boyntons advertised SELLING AGENCY FOR HIGH-GRADE CARS. STORAGE & CARE OF CARS.

  Inside, it smelled like rubber but was blessedly dry. The Boyntons had hooked up to electricity, so overhead lights dispelled the gloom. Roberta left her umbrella in the holder beside the door and stamped her feet on the horsehair mat.

  ‘‘Good morning. May I help you?’’

  She looked up and encountered the bespectacled face of a heavyset man in his forties. He wore a moustache and a pin-striped suit.

  ‘‘I hope so. I’d like to buy a motorcar.’’

  Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting this response. It took a beat before he replied, placing his palms flat together and rubbing them twice. ‘‘Certainly, madam. Hamlin Young at your service. And you are?’’

  ‘‘Roberta Jewett.’’

  ‘‘Mrs. Jewett, right this way.’’ He glanced at the door as he led her away. ‘‘Is your husband with you today?’’

  ‘‘I don’t have a husband. The car is for me.’’

  He paused beside a black Oldsmobile and puckered his brow. ‘‘Jewett . . . Jewett . . . you wouldn’t be the sister-in-law of Elfred Spear, would you?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I would. Grace’s sister.’’

  ‘‘Ahh . . .’’ he crooned, tipping his chin up. ‘‘Someone told me you were moving to Camden.’’

  Elfred, undoubtedly. He must have happened to mention Roberta was divorced, too, the way Hamlin Young’s eyes glinted with new speculation. She’d seen the reaction enough times to predict what would happen next: He’d take the liberty of touching her somewhere.

  ‘‘I grew up here,’’ she told him.

  ‘‘Yes, of course. Now, whom did you marry again?’’

  ‘‘You didn’t know him. The motorcar, Mr. Young,’’ she reminded him.

  ‘‘Yes, of course.’’ There it was: He touched her elbow with the tips of his fingers. ‘‘Have you ridden in one yet?’’

  ‘‘Yes, a couple of times.’’

  ‘‘Have you driven one?’’

  ‘‘Just once.’’

  ‘‘You have! Well! That’s amazing. I must admit, I haven’t sold one to a woman yet. To the best of my knowledge, no woman in Camden has driven one.’’

  ‘‘Then I’ll be the first. I have some questions for you, Mr. Young, about the cost and the maintenance.’’

  ‘‘We’ll get to that later. First let me show you what we’ve got.’’

  He touched her again while presenting the Oldsmobile Runabout, and again as he directed her to an Overland Touring Car. By the time they came to an ordinary Model T Ford she adroitly sidestepped and kept plenty of space between them.

  ‘‘How much would this one cost?’’

  ‘‘Three hundred and sixty dollars, brand spanking new, including a planetary transmission system.’’

  Only three hundred sixty. Elfred had said six hundred for a roadster.

  ‘‘Would this one be started and operated like a CCab truck?’’

  ‘‘A C-Cab truck?’’ He peered at her more sharply. ‘‘Why . . . yes, it would. Have you driven a C-Cab truck, Mrs. Jewett?’’

  She realized her mistake immediately. ‘‘Why . . . yes . . . yes I have, and I managed quite well, I must say. If I buy this and it needs repair, will you do it here?’’

  ‘‘Yes, ma’am. We own the Camden Garage right next door, and in the back of it we operate our own machine shop with a staff of skilled mechanics. Upstairs on our second floor we’ve got supplies of all kinds and a nice waiting room for our customers. We’ve even got a telephone connection up there. You mind my asking whose C-Cab truck you drove?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I do, Mr. Young. What bearing has that on my purchasing this motorcar?’’

  ‘‘Well, I was just wondering if by any chance it might have been Gabe Farley’s.’’

  Exasperated, she replied, ‘‘Yes, it was!’’

  ‘‘Well, that’s good, because Gabe bought it here. He’ll vouch for what kind of work we do. Why, Gabe knows everybody in the place.’’

  She was sure he did. She was also sure that everyone in the place would know she’d been out riding in his truck with him.

  ‘‘Gabe is a good man. So he gave you a little driving lesson, did he?’’

  ‘‘A very little one, but enough for me to find out I can drive.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I’ve no doubt. But I wouldn’t be doing my job unless I warned you about some of the other things you’ll have to know how to do if you drive for any length of time at all. Did Gabe mention patching tires?’’

  ‘‘Patching tires?’’

  ‘‘You’ll have to carry a patch kit, which we sell right upstairs, but I’m not sure you’d want to do a dirty job like that.’’

  ‘‘What else?’’

  ‘‘If the tire can’t be patched, you’d have to replace it while the rim is right on the car, and truthfully, Mrs. Jewett, I don’t think a woman could do that. It takes some muscle. I’m not lying, it’s a heck of a job even for a man.’’

  ‘‘How often do they go bad?’’

  ‘‘Depends on the roads you’re driving. Some of them up here in the mountains get pretty bad. Rocks, washouts, what have you.’’

  ‘‘But I could patch them?’’

  ‘‘You could. With a little lesson.’’

  ‘‘Anything else?’’

  Roberta was sorry she asked. She was informed about the carburetor needing frequent adjustment, the transmission bands needing tightening and the fan belts replacing.

  ‘‘But I thought you did repairs.’’

  ‘‘These are all things that can happen out on the road.’’

  ‘‘Oh,’’ she said, showing her first hint of dismay.

  ‘‘Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Jewett—I sell these things, and I shouldn’t be running them down. They’re good machines, and they’re pretty reliable when they’re new, but I wouldn’t feel right about selling one to a woman without a husband, unless she knew what she was up against. In the long run you’re probably going to wish you had a horse.’’

  ‘‘I have no place to keep a horse.’’

  ‘‘Well . . .’’ He lifted his hands lamely and let them drop. After a while he said, ‘‘You mind my asking what you need a car for?’’

  ‘‘I’m a public nurse, employed by the state of Maine. I’ll be traveling a lot.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I see.’’ He could tell she was disappointed and touched her again, this time on the shoulder with an open hand that lingered a little longer. ‘‘I’ll be glad to show you how to do some of these things if you decide to buy one.’’

  His presumption snapped her out of her funk and made her jump free of his touch. ‘‘If a man can do it, I can do it. And if it’s too heavy I’ll get help. I’ll be back, Mr. Young.’’

  She went next to the Camden Bank. Mr. Tunstill, the vice president, raised his haughty eyebrows, gave her run-down shoes and threadbare jacket the once-over and informed her that his bank could not authorize onehundredand-fifty-dollar loans to women. Certainly not to women without men to support them. A public nurse? He was not impressed, nor could he help her. He suggested she find a man with an automobile and marry him if she wanted to drive.

  ‘‘Good day, Mrs. Jewett.’’

  She was back out in the drizzle in less than ten minutes, so angry she was unaware of the fact that inside her shoes, even her stockings were soaked.

  Back at Boynton’s, she asked Mr. Young what arrangements could be made if she didn’t have enough cash. He was sorry, he said, but without a bank loan his hands were tied. Did he have any used motorcars? No, but he had some for rent.
The rent, however, tallied up to a bad deal all the way around, so she ended up beneath her umbrella on the street once more. In an attempt to calm herself, she went to the post office and made arrangements for the delivery of her mail, then into Gold’s Restaurant and splurged on a cup of coffee with two free refills. The waitress asked bluntly who she was, and when Roberta gave her name three women stared at her and whispered as if she had snakes growing where her hair should be. Two old geezers at the counter craned around and gawked over their bony shoulders.

  By the time she left Gold’s she was wishing she had a few snakes and could make them hiss and spit on her way out the door.

  She had only one other possibility, and loathsome though he was, she decided to give him a try.

  The town pecker, Elfred.

  His real estate company was housed in the Masonic Temple block, in one of the new brick structures with the arched brickwork above the windows. Four people were working in the office when she walked in and asked for her brother-in-law. He spied her through his glass-walled office and nearly broke a knee leaping from his chair.

  ‘‘Birdy!’’ He came at her with arms extended. ‘‘What an unexpected surprise! Georgie, meet my sister-in-law, Birdy Jewett.’’ She was introduced to all and herded inside beneath Elfred’s possessive arm while they were followed by inquisitive eyes. He stationed her on an oak chair beside his rolltop desk and swiveled his own to face her, rolling up so close their knees nearly touched. ‘‘What brings you down here, Birdy?’’ His eyes glinted wickedly. ‘‘You change your mind about what I suggested yesterday?’’

  ‘‘Stop it, Elfred!’’

  He grinned and leaned back comfortably, crossed his knees and extended a foot so it got lost inside the folds of her skirt. ‘‘I told Farley I’d leave the coast clear for him, but it looks like maybe I spoke too soon, ’cause here you are, and I’m mighty pleased to see you.’’

  She boosted up and scraped her chair back six inches. He merely rolled his forward six and stuck his foot in the same place.

  ‘‘Your employees are watching,’’ she reminded him.

  ‘‘All they can see is our heads and shoulders. What do you want?’’

  ‘‘A loan.’’

  ‘‘Ooo, a loan,’’ he singsonged, making suggestions with his eyebrows.

  ‘‘For a hundred and fifty dollars.’’

  ‘‘For that car you want?’’

  ‘‘That’s right.’’

  ‘‘What’ll you put up?’’

  ‘‘Nothing. I’ll sign a promissory note.’’

  ‘‘Mmm, not good enough. You’ll have to do better than that, Birdy.’’ He began to run his black shoe up and down her shin. She rammed her heel into his kneecap and thrust him backward, chair and all. He gasped and left his mouth open.

  ‘‘No, you’ll have to do better than that, Elfred, unless you want me to tell Grace you suggested diddling me within twenty-four hours of my moving into town.’’

  He nursed his knee and said with remarkable amity, ‘‘Don’t try to bamboozle me, Birdy, because I’m a bigger bamboozler than you are.’’

  ‘‘You don’t think I’d tell her?’’ She dropped her chin and stared him down, wishing again for a few snakes. ‘‘Try me.’’

  Her threat began to sink in and Elfred lost his cockiness. ‘‘That’s blackmail, Birdy, and you know it.’’

  ‘‘Yes, and isn’t it delicious. If you wish to prosecute me for it, go ahead. Of course, you’ll have to weigh whether or not it’s worth the risk of losing the respect of your wife and three children, because I will tell Grace, make no mistake about that. I’m not too happy with her anyway at this point. She must have been gossiping all over this town about my divorce, because women are looking at me squinch-eyed and men are posing like Greek statues as soon as they hear my name. And frankly, Elfred, you all disgust me. So don’t put me to the test! I need a hundred and fifty dollars, and I can sign a promissory note, nice and politely, or I can put a serious crimp in your home life. Now, which will it be?’’

  Elfred’s smug expression had curdled. ‘‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, Birdy, you know that?’’

  ‘‘Exactly. A hundred and fifty, please, Elfred, and make it quick before I decide to tell Grace anyway.’’

  He scooted his chair to a black safe and started spinning its dial. She watched his shoulders, and when he turned, the wad of bills in his hands.

  ‘‘I repeat, Birdy, this is blackmail.’’ He handed her the bills.

  She stuffed them into her jacket pocket while rising. ‘‘Have a note prepared and I’ll sign it. All I can afford to pay you is five dollars a month, but it’ll be on time, dear brother-in-law. Thank you very much.’’

  She left him following her exit with a sour expression on his handsome face.

  When she got back home there was a stack of lumber in her yard and Gabe Farley was hammering down a brand-new porch floor. His brother was with him. They were dressed in Wellingtons and slickers and neither of them saw or heard her coming until she was nearly upon them and paused in the yard beside the fragrant wood floor.

  ‘‘Oh, Mrs. Jewett!’’ Gabe sat back on his heels. ‘‘Hello.’’

  She offered no civility. So Elfred was leaving the coast clear for this one, was he? She wondered whose idea that had been, and couldn’t find the grace to return his greeting.

  ‘‘I didn’t think you’d be working in the rain.’’

  ‘‘Wait for a sunny day in Maine you’ll never get any work done. This is my brother, Seth. This is Mrs. Jewett.’’

  They exchanged hellos—hers cool, his curious—and she said to Gabriel, ‘‘My plank is gone.’’

  ‘‘Sorry, you’ll have to go around back.’’

  She struck off in that direction but his voice stopped her. ‘‘Thank you for letting Isobel stay last night. She couldn’t quit talking about it when she got home.’’

  ‘‘You’re welcome.’’ She headed away again.

  ‘‘She likes your girls,’’ he called.

  ‘‘They like her, too,’’ she returned, without slowing or turning as she disappeared around a corner of the house.

  Seth watched her go and said, ‘‘She doesn’t like you much, does she?’’

  ‘‘No, not much.’’

  ‘‘But Isobel stayed over here last night?’’

  ‘‘Just for supper. They boiled lobsters over the bonfire and read Hiawatha.’’

  ‘‘Really.’’ It was an observation, not a question. Seth watched Gabe stretch out a carpenter’s rule, mark a plank and pick up a saw.

  ‘‘I don’t want her hanging around here too much though,’’ Gabe said. ‘‘I get the feeling her girls run wild.’’

  ‘‘Which you and I never did.’’

  Gabe grinned at Seth over his poised handsaw.

  They both got busy but talked in between the noise. ‘‘So what’s going on between you and this woman?’’ Seth asked.

  ‘‘Nothing.’’

  ‘‘Then how come she races past so fast?’’

  ‘‘I interrupted a little scene between her and Elfred yesterday. I think she’s embarrassed about it.’’

  ‘‘What were they doing?’’

  ‘‘Not they. Elfred. He was doing what Elfred’s always doing, only she wasn’t having any of it. Matter of fact, she was squawking pretty loud when I put my nose into it.’’

  Seth chuckled. Then he sobered. ‘‘How do you suppose his wife puts up with it?’’

  ‘‘Wives are usually the last to know.’’

  After some cogitation, Seth remarked, ‘‘Jesus, trying it with his own sister-in-law. That Elfred’s really a horse’s ass, you know it?’’

  ‘‘Everybody knows it, but we’ve all laughed about it plenty, haven’t we?’’

  ‘‘I guess we have.’’

  ‘‘Yesterday I didn’t think it was so funny though.’’

  ‘‘So there is something between you and this woman.’’

  ‘‘I
told you, Seth—’’

  ‘‘Ya, ya, you told me. But something strange is going on around here. Undertones.’’

  ‘‘Undertones? Boy, you’re crazy. If I was looking for a woman, I wouldn’t go for one who dresses like that and talks like that. She’s about as far from Caroline as Pluto is from Earth.’’

  ‘‘Oh, you’ve been comparing her to Caroline, have you?’’

  ‘‘No, I haven’t been comparing her to Caroline. Look, just forget it, will you? Some days I wish I worked alone!’’

  When Gabe threw himself back into his work, he hammered like a piston.

  At four o’clock the girls returned from school and Isobel was with them.

  ‘‘Hi, Daddy! Hi, Uncle Seth!’’ The porch floor was done and the roof was in progress. All four girls yammered at once, ‘‘Wow! A new porch floor! Hi, Mr.

  Farley! Look at this! It can be our stage!’’ They got onto the fresh boards and clumped around, getting them wet and dirty, testing the sound of their heels, pretending they were skating or dancing. Rebecca spread her arms like a thunderbird and recited to the front yard.

  ‘‘ ‘As unto the bow the cord is,

  So unto the man is woman,

  Though she bends him she obeys him,

  Though she draws him, yet she follows,

  Useless each without the other!’

  Thus the youthful Hiawatha

  Said within himself and pondered,’

  Da-da-da-da, I forgot that, [this brought laughter]

  ‘Dreaming still of Minnehaha.’ ’’

  The others applauded raucously and Rebecca took a deep, formal bow. Springing erect, she said, ‘‘Let’s go get something to eat!’’ They all tramped inside and left the door wide open.

  Gabe and Seth—one on the roof, one on a ladder— exchanged glances. Gabe shrugged. ‘‘See what I mean?’’

  Seth said, ‘‘That’s the happiest I’ve seen Isobel in a long time.’’

  Inside, the piano started clanging and the girls’ voices could be heard as they charged through the house, into the kitchen, up the stairs. Sometimes there were shrieks, sometimes giggles, sometimes thumps. They could hear Roberta’s voice calling, ‘‘Hey! Come down here and tell me about school!’’