Chapter 44 Cynthia
Cynthia
Cynthia walked down the road in the direction of town, thinking of all the people she might meet at the party.
She expected they would be like some of the wealthier students she had met at college.
Her nerves increased as she recalled how often she had felt out of place whenever Pauline convinced her to attend an event at Barlow.
Still, her friend would be there to ease her way, just as she had been on other occasions.
She increased her speed, eager to spend the evening with Pauline.
She reached the gap in the stone wall that ran along the road, the one that connected to a path through the pines that provided a shorter route to the part of the lake where the party was to be held.
The sun had already sunk below the tops of the trees, and the evening was fading into night.
Her heart clutched in her chest a bit as she debated whether or not to take the shortcut through the woods.
The light had faded enough that it was not all that easy to see where she was going.
But the skies were clear, and the moon was almost full.
It would surely provide enough light to see by for long enough to make the journey.
Besides, the path through the woods would make it appear as though she could have been arriving from any number of lakeside homes and would further support the illusion that she had not walked from somewhere away from the shoreline.
Not everyone at the party needed to know about her summer job.
She had recognized which house the party was being held at when Glenn had described it to her at the pharmacy.
It was one she had seen many times over while riding in the Mayhew speedboat or paddling a canoe with the children at a more leisurely pace.
When she popped out from the woods and onto the hard-packed dirt road that led towards one of the coves that hugged the shoreline of the lake, she recognized where she was at once.
A car passed her, crawling along in order to save the passengers a good jangling from the uneven surface.
She glanced down and wished she had thought to wear a different pair of shoes as her ankle buckled beneath her.
The road was riddled with tree roots and craters, and she needed to keep her attention fixed upon it if she wanted to avoid injury.
She was so focused on the roadway in front of her that she almost passed the house where the party was being held.
It was only the sound of her name being called out from somewhere nearby that caused her to look up.
Glenn stood on the wide front porch of the three-story house, waving at her.
She turned into the driveway, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by shyness.
Almost as though he sensed her discomfort, he pushed open the screen door to the porch and hurried down the steps.
He held a bottle of beer in one hand and, as he came to a stop beside her, reached for her arm with his other.
“I was worried you were going to change your mind and not show up,” he said.
Cynthia was not sure how to respond. He seemed so pleased to see her that she felt a little guilty.
“I don’t generally change my mind after I make a commitment,” Cynthia said.
“I’m glad to hear it. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone, although I think you may have met some of them before,” he said, squiring her up the stairs and onto the porch.
Standing around with beers of their own were the two other young men she recognized from the pharmacy, as well as several girls she did not recognize at all.
She was relieved to notice that she seemed to be appropriately dressed, given what the other girls were wearing.
Each one of them wore some version of a summer frock in a color that would not look amiss as a shade of ice cream.
None of them wore gloves, but they all had artfully arranged hairdos and jewelry to finish off their outfits.
Cynthia was grateful for Dolores’s attention to her appearance.
“Has Pauline arrived yet?”
“No, but I’m sure she’ll be here soon. Come on.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the house.
As they made the rounds, he introduced her to each of the many other guests in turn.
She offered them all a bright smile that she did not quite feel.
Cynthia expected to be presented to the homeowners, but despite making their way through the first floor of the house and out the back door and down onto the lawn leading to the lake, she had seen no one who appeared old enough to own any property, let alone something as expensive as that particular home.
“So, is this your house?” Cynthia asked as Glenn walked her towards a large table set up as a makeshift bar.
He popped the lid open on a metal cooler much like the one the Mayhews owned and fished out two bottles of beer.
Condensation streamed down the sides of them as he pried off the caps with an opener before handing one to Cynthia.
She had drunk the occasional beer at the parties at college, but she had never really acquired a liking for it.
She did her best not to pull a face as she took her first sip and felt its bitter taste fill her mouth and run down her throat.
At least holding onto it gave her something to do with her hands.
Nerves were getting the best of her, and she hoped that the drink would go a long way in bolstering her courage.
She had never been to a party without at least one friend there before. Glenn seemed eager to see her, but something about him made her feel shy and awkward. She wasn’t sure that she would be inclined to think of the event as one of the highlights of the summer.
“It’s my family’s estate.”
“Would you introduce me to your parents? I really should tell them that I appreciate the invitation,” Cynthia said.
Glenn raised an eyebrow at her, then threw his head back and began to laugh. “You are a perfect example of middle-class charm, aren’t you?”
“Is that not how things are done in your crowd?” Cynthia asked.
She knew from conversations with Pauline that oftentimes her mother’s definition of “good manners” did not apply to their social set.
They seemed to live by a completely different rule book, one that would have left her own parents aghast. It always left her feeling like she had put a foot wrong when she made inquiries about common courtesy, at least in her way of thinking.
“No, not really. And even if it were, my folks aren’t here tonight. They are at one of their other houses on the coast, which is why I decided to throw a party in the first place. It’s no fun to try and have a good time with someone’s parents around, is it?”
Glenn took a step towards her and ran his thumb along her jawline. She felt a shiver run up the back of her neck and could not decide if it was one of anticipation or trepidation.
There was something almost predatory in the way Glenn eyed her, though, and her stomach suddenly clenched at the idea that no real adults were keeping an eye on the goings-on.
Nonsense, she chided herself. That was just one more of her parents’ middle-class attitudes floating to the surface.
Sophisticated people like Pauline and Glenn thought nothing of being left in charge of an expensive home.
They must be considered responsible enough to take care of things, or surely his parents would not allow it.
She took another sip of her beer, this time a larger one, and tried to convince herself that it wasn’t bitter. It was bracing!
“No, I’m sure you’re right. I wonder what’s keeping Pauline,” she said, gesticulating at the rowdy assembly of young people clustered near the water’s edge.
“I expect she’ll show up soon enough, but I’m equally sure she won’t look as pretty as you,” Glenn said, placing his free hand on the small of her back and lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“You seem like the sort of girl who might enjoy something a little different than standing around making small talk and sipping beer.”
She nodded. Her heart thrummed in her chest as Glenn smiled at her.
She wasn’t the sort of girl who enjoyed things like small talk.
She had never mastered the art of it at all, and a house full of strangers laughing and carrying on was not her idea of a good time.
As soon as Glenn had introduced her to the first group of other guests, she wished that she hadn’t come.
But perhaps Glenn understood her better than she would have thought.
After all, it wasn’t every guy who would recognize her discomfort and not chide her for it.
“You’re right about that. A large group of strangers isn’t my thing,” she said.
Glenn reached for her hand and pulled her towards the makeshift bar once more.
He let go for a moment and lifted a bottle of gin from the cooler’s icy depths.
With his free hand, he plucked a pair of glasses off the end of the table and inclined his head towards the back door out to the yard once more.
She followed him down the stairs and across the lawn, its spongy tufts of patchy grass unstable beneath her dress shoe–shod feet. The moon had risen above the tops of the pines on the opposite shore, and its beams pointed a path towards a low building situated alongside the shoreline.
He pulled open the door to the building and held it for her.
As she passed through, she heard the familiar slapping sound of wooden boats tied out to a dock.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realized they were standing inside a spacious and well-appointed boathouse.
A canoe, a kayak, and a wide, flat-bottomed rowboat sat tethered cheek by jowl to the short wooden dock.