Chapter 14 - The Party
“Robby, what shirt are you wearing?” Grace called from the closet.
“The red one.”
“Good. What should I wear?”
“As little as possible.”
“Guys,” Grace said under her breath. “Can you think of anything else we need to do?” No response. “Robby?” Grace pulled the curtain back and looked. Robby with headphones on. Grace smiled and slid her feet into sandals.
When the lodge truck pulled up, Grace went to the screened porch door to greet everyone.
Suddenly, Robby was right behind her. Billy and Jim were at the back of the truck, removing a charcoal grill, a bag of briquettes, and beer.
Nan had gotten down from the front seat and was reaching back in for the box of eclairs.
Kirsten was just stepping down from the back seat.
Her hair was down, blonde and thick, and she was wearing faded jeans and a soft gray and lavender plaid flannel shirt.
Robby said from over Grace’s head, “Very pretty.” Kirsten turned and leaned back into the truck, and he slid past Grace and was out the door and next to Kirsten in seconds.
He said something to her; she looked around and moved slightly away.
Robby reached in across the seat and came back with a shallow, open box with waxed paper sticking out in all directions.
He smiled down at Kirsten and put it into her hands.
Grace heard him say, “Hi. We haven’t met. I’m Robby.”
Kirsten looked up at Robby and said, “Kirsten.”
“Nice to meet you. Can you make it to the door with that?” he nodded at the box in her hands.
“Yes.” She turned toward Grace, standing in the doorway, holding the door open. Nan had just gone through.
Robby caught Grace’s eye from behind Kirsten and smiled, then he turned and went to the back of the truck.
In the kitchen, Grace looked at Nan holding the eclairs. “Where’s the best place for those?”
“A plate in the fridge.”
“Easy.” Grace lifted a plate off the shelf and handed it to Nan. “Now what about these?” Grace pointed to the box of fish Kirsten was holding.
“Also in the fridge,” Nan said, placing eclairs on the plate.
Grace held the refrigerator door open. Kirsten put the fish in. “I’m going to have a glass of wine. What about you two? Wine, beer, anything?” She glanced from Kirsten to Nan and back to Kirsten.
“Wine for me too,” said Nan. She put the dessert plate in the fridge.
“A beer,” Kirsten said.
“Okay.” She looked at Kirsten. “Will you step out that door,” she pointed to the side door, “and take their drink orders?” She turned to Nan. “I’ll open the wine. How ‘bout you empty the chips into that basket and get the salsa bowl out of the fridge? Then, we’ll be set for a while.”
Kirsten came back in. “Three beers. I can take them.”
As Kirsten went out the door with the beers, Grace handed Nan her wine. “This will be interesting.”
“Mm-hmm. I have no idea.”
Just then, Robby came in the side door. He glanced their way, smiled, and kept walking toward the porch.
“We need that birch table and the salsa and chips. I’ll get the table.
Would you two bring the food?” He came back with the table, and Grace walked over and held the side door open. As he went past, he said, “Relax.”
When Nan and Grace came out, Billy and Robby were standing near the two grills, talking, and Jim and Kirsten were down at the point.
They put the chips and salsa on the table, and Nan walked off to the point.
Grace stood, looking out at the lake, listening to the background sounds of her friends talking, the breeze in the tops of the tall pines, spruces, and birches, and the lake lapping the rocks.
The air was crisp and fragrant with the scent of pines.
So she nearly jumped when Robby put his hand on her shoulder.
“Apparently, I will always be startled by you. So, what do you think of Kirsten? I forgot you’d never seen her. ”
Robby looked off. “She’s a real looker, as Marie would say. A classic Scandinavian beauty. There was a time when I’d’ve been interested.” He looked down at Grace. “But what I see is not enough to blow up what we have.”
“She’s been okay toward you?”
“Yes. She’s trying to keep her distance and her attitude, but she’s curious.
She’s not going anywhere.” He laughed briefly.
“Sad to think hating can be so easy, yet do so much damage. Maybe she’ll rethink.
” He shifted his weight and removed his hand.
“Looking forward to playing and singing after we eat. I’ve got both beds of coals going and fish don’t take long. I’m going to put the potatoes in.”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“I’m surprised at how much I want to get to the music portion of this show. And then there are the mosquitoes,” he frowned. “We need to be on the screened porch eating before dusk.” He turned and went into the cabin.
Grace walked towards Billy. “Hi, Grace. Place feels more like a home than a resort cabin. Thanks for having us.”
“Thanks for coming. It is my home until . . . until when? When will it get too cold for me to stay here?”
“I’d say around the first of October but ask Jim.
It might be colder and snowier here than where I come from in north central Minnesota or even in Duluth.
You know Nan and Jim are year-round residents?
They don’t go to Florida or the Southwest like a lot of folks do.
I bet they’d rent one of the kitchenettes in the lodge to you.
” Just then a loon called, and they stopped to listen.
“You know what keeps popping into my head?”
“No, what?”
“Something you said before you met Robby for the talk . . . something like ‘trying to figure out what’s going to happen is a waste of time — pure speculation.’ I like that.
I was stressing about what I’d do for money next school year, if Jim had to let me go because of the pandemic.
But then I remembered what you said, and it made sense.
I don’t want to waste time worrying over something that may not even happen.
If things don’t work out, I’ll deal with it then.
Not ruin now.” He took a sip of beer. “You know what else? Robby is a really nice guy. I would never have believed a person like him could be this way. He seems so normal.” He laughed.
“I know. I think it’s the way he was raised. His family and friends — like Margie and Charlie — are important to him. So important, Margie says he’s come home regularly several times a year ever since he’s been on the road, which amounts to his whole adult life.”
“Maybe that keeps him grounded. I wonder if that’s why he does it?
Anyway, I’m really looking forward to playing with him.
We talked about songs we both know and Kirsten probably knows the words to.
My dad is a Beatles fanatic, so I know about every song they recorded.
And we both know ‘Raspberry Beret.’ I’m sure Kirsten knows that. ”
“I just thought of another.” Robby walked up. “‘Wagon Wheel.’ You know that one?”
“Sure I do.” He looked at Grace. “My summer’s looking up.”
Robby looked at Billy. “Let’s get the fish on, so we can eat, so we can play,” and they went into the cabin to figure out grill baskets.
************
Everyone raved about the meal, even about grilled walleye instead of fried. They decided to wait on the eclairs — urged on by Billy and Robby who obviously wanted to play. So while the rest cleared the table and dealt with the dishes — there were no leftovers — they took their guitars on the porch.
“Whoa, look at that,” Robby said, as Billy lifted his dad’s guitar out of the case. “How bout we trade guitars? How old is that thing?”
“1969.”
“Sweet,” Robby said, taking the guitar gently, and handing his off to Billy, who took the jumbo Gibson with both hands, gingerly, like a dozen eggs in a flimsy cardboard carton.
“My dad’s not gonna believe you played his guitar.
He’s not going to believe any of this. ‘Course I’m not gonna say anything till we’ve all moved on,” he added hurriedly, sitting back down, then immediately standing back up.
He looked at the picnic table. “I’m sorry, but could someone take a photo?
No one’s going to believe this happened.
I swear I won’t show it to anyone. You don’t even have to give it to me till I leave. ”
Robby laughed. “Only if I’m in it too, with the Martin.”
Jim stood up and took his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll do the honors.” He took several, then walked over and showed them to Billy and Robby.
Billy said, “I’m the one who’s going to need proof this really happened.”
In the cabin, Jim made a pot of coffee, and Grace turned to Kirsten, who was still only lukewarm to her. “If you want to warm up your voice, we can handle this. My mother used to sing, and she always did that.”
“Yes.” A minute later Kirsten was on the porch.
Jim, Nan, and Grace sat at the picnic table.
Robby and Billy sat in chairs from the inside table near Kirsten, who was sitting on the front edge of a rocker.
They had warmed up with some old Beatles tunes, so they went ahead and played through a couple more.
Billy was right. Kirsten had a powerful, versatile voice, similar to Adele’s.
They went through a variety of songs from Chuck Berry to James Taylor to a song Lyle Lovett recorded and Robby said was written by Grace’s fellow South Carolinian Walter Hyatt.
That one was called “Teach Me,” and as he was singing, Robby lifted his gaze to Grace from time to time, and she began to understand the appeal of musicians.