Chapter 9 Geraldine
Geraldine
She pushed against the wide floorboards with her toes, setting the wooden rocker into motion and filling the air around her with cracks and creaks as its joints—as old and clamorous as her own—chided her.
That particular spot where the gap in the pines at the shoreline afforded an expansive view of the lake was her favorite.
At least, it was when it failed to include members of her deceased husband’s extended family.
But there they were, just as the weather had finally turned heartbreakingly beautiful.
Long Pond sparkled, as if to mock her with its very cheerfulness.
Geraldine tightened her grip on her highball glass as a speedboat streaked towards the dock anchored to the edge of her private beach.
A depressingly large contingent of her in-laws heaved themselves up out of the boat and clattered towards her along the dock’s weathered wooden decking.
She braced herself for the clamor that accompanied them whenever they appeared.
The young man shoved open the screen door and raced past her with the merest bob of his head.
Remembering the way he had behaved on previous visits, she guessed that he was headed straight for the kitchen.
His parents arrived at a more decorous pace.
Louise’s glance landed on the empty glass, and her thin nose twitched as if she were sniffing out mischief.
If there was one thing Geraldine could not abide after years of enduring the privations of Prohibition, it was recriminations concerning her right to imbibe whenever she saw fit.
If only Louise had not raised her over-plucked eyebrows at her, she might have lost her nerve.
Thankfully, Louise did. Her even more judgmental husband, Dickie, was captivated by the set of matching leather suitcases stacked neatly by the porch door.
“Have other members of the family arrived ahead of us?” he asked.
Geraldine shook her head. “The suitcases are mine.” Before he could reply, she spotted yet another boat cutting swiftly through the water in the direction of her dock. “It seems that my taxi has arrived.”
“Where are you going?” Louise asked.
“I have booked an indefinite stay at the Maine Chance Farm. Be so good as to leave word with Mrs. Burns when you have concluded your vacation in my home.”
“But you cannot possibly leave,” Louise said.
“Who’s Mrs. Burns?” Dickie asked. Typical. The man didn’t even have the decency to remember the name of the long-suffering housekeeper who put up with his family’s locust-like descent on her domain year after year. Geraldine ignored him.
“I can see no reason why I am not as entitled as all of you to enjoy a pleasant summer, and for a change I have determined to do so.”
“But you’ve given us no notice of your intentions. You did not consult us about how that might affect our plans,” Louise said, an uncharacteristic flood of color rising to her alabaster cheeks.
“Come, come, my dear. Considering the ease with which you descend upon me with a similar lack of warning, I had understood that such niceties were entirely unnecessary,” Geraldine said.
“But what will people think?” Louise asked, lifting a slim hand to the base of her throat.
“I have no idea, and even less interest.” With that, Geraldine grasped the handle of the smallest of the suitcases and strode out onto the lawn.
Bernard Eames, the owner of the seasonal water-taxi service, hustled up the slope between the house and dock to lend her his arm.
She would have preferred to drive herself, but if she did, she would run the risk of communications from Louise et al.
concerning the use of her car. Besides, it was a lovely afternoon for a boat ride.
The towering pines surrounding the lake cast cooling shadows onto the surface of the water.
Birds swooped low, skimming the water in the hope of scooping fish or swarms of aquatic insects into their hungry bills.
Bernard glanced over to assure himself that she was safely settled before returning to the porch for the rest of her luggage.
Geraldine pointedly refrained from glancing towards the house until he had clambered aboard the boat, cast off, and revved the engine.
Just as they moved out of earshot, Geraldine turned back for a final look.
She had no idea how long it would be before she laid eyes on it again.
She spotted Louise standing on the dock, waving furiously at her.
She turned her face towards the opposite shore and felt her spirits lift for the first time since she had received Louise’s letter announcing their arrival date with her unquestioning expectation of welcome.