Chapter 3 #2
Even though it wasn’t the most romantic proposal in the world, and even though he technically hadn’t asked her out, Caitlin couldn’t have been more thrilled by Donald’s invitation.
At seventeen, she’d never had a boyfriend; to her disappointment, she’d never even been on a real date, except for the time she’d gone to the junior prom with the boy next door, and even then, it was his mother, not the boy himself, who’d asked her to accompany him.
How could Caitlin develop a romantic relationship—or even socialize with her peers—when her father and stepmother expected her to earn top grades at school, as well as keep the house, make supper, and take care of her little stepbrother every evening and most weekends until they got home from work?
It was no wonder she could hardly wait until school ended each year, and her stepbrother was sent to his grandparents’ house in Nova Scotia, and Caitlin got to go to Dune Island to help Lydia and Albert.
The chores she helped with in the morning paled in comparison to the amount of freedom her aunt and uncle gave her in the afternoons to do whatever she pleased.
Because she was so responsible, they trusted her to exercise good judgment, even allowing her to borrow their car if they didn’t need it, which was something she rarely got to do at home.
So after she met Donald, Caitlin spent nearly all her free time visiting the parks or beaches where he was scheduled to work. She’d sign up to participate in the guided tours he conducted, and they’d arrange to meet for a picnic during his lunch hour.
Because the program he was enrolled in was closely supervised, and the high schoolers were expected to participate in group recreational activities after hours, most of Caitlin and Donald’s evening “dates” had been spent in the company of the student park rangers and other youth from the community.
But once in a while, they’d manage to steal away to a secluded spot, and their conversations quickly progressed from discussions about plants and animals to more personal topics.
They’d talk about things like their taste in food and music, their classmates and families, their secret struggles, and their hopes for the future—things Caitlin had never shared with anyone, except maybe her aunt.
In between all that talk, there’d been lots of sitting in silence, holding hands, lots of hugging, and lots and lots of kissing—Caitlin’s favorite newfound activity.
Donald’s, too; like her, he was a bit of a late bloomer.
Initially shy and reserved, after his first tentative, bumbling pecks on her cheeks, he’d grown increasingly zealous, and it was almost as if they were both making up for lost time.
Caitlin liked Donald so much, it nearly caused her physical pain to be apart even for a day. And now that summer was ending, the very thought of saying a permanent goodbye to him made her ache from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.
Tonight, I need to tell him how I feel , she decided as she stopped to pick up another broken branch. She cracked it in two over her knee before adding it to the barrel. Maybe there’s a way we can get together this winter…
“Hey, Cinderella.” Nicole’s voice snapped Caitlin from her reverie. “What time are we leaving for the party tonight?”
“ We? ”
“ We? ” Nicole repeated, imitating Caitlin’s incredulous tone. As an aspiring actor, she had developed some impressive but annoying impersonation skills. “Yeah, we . It’s a pronoun. It means you and I.”
Caitlin had barely seen Nicole since the storm struck three days ago, and she didn’t recall telling her about the student rangers’ end-of-summer get-together. “But I-I-I didn’t know you wanted to go to the party.”
“I-I-I don’t ,” mocked Nicole. “But I want to go to dinner at the Club even less, and Pam and Bob won’t let me stay at the cottage by myself.”
She usually referred to her mother by her first name behind her back, but Caitlin noticed that Nicole always called her Mom to her face, which made her suspect that Nicole wasn’t quite as irreverent as she often pretended to be.
“You know it won’t be like, a real party, right?
” Caitlin reminded her. The few times Nicole had hung out with Caitlin, Donald, and the other student rangers, she’d complained about how nerdy and boring they were.
“We’re just going to eat pizza on the beach and watch the sunset.
Dave, the chaperone, will probably bring his guitar, so… ”
“So it’ll be really pathetic, I know. But I’ll find a way to entertain myself… and all the dorky rangers.” She threw back her head and laughed at herself.
During the short amount of time Caitlin had known her, she’d discovered that Nicole loved to make up “scenes” and then act them out.
Usually, these theatrics involved flirting with young men who were instantly taken in by her charms. Once, Caitlin watched as the server at a bakery gave Nicole a coffee and pastry for free after she pretended to be a French tourist who’d lost her purse.
Another time, she convinced a random guy on a hiking trail that she needed to use his bicycle to circle the park because her puppy had broken free of its leash, and she was desperate to find it.
Her charades supposedly were just in good fun.
According to Nicole, she was “practicing her art,” or “getting into character,” and to her credit, she was a very talented actor.
But it bothered Caitlin that she’d play on people’s emotions, and she didn’t want Nicole taking advantage of Donald and the other students’ kindness toward her.
She bit her lip before tentatively suggesting, “You don’t have to entertain anyone or put on an act, you know. You could just hang out and let people get to know the real you.”
“The real me is an actor,” countered Nicole.
“But if you don’t want me to come to the party, I guess I’ll just have to go to the Club with Bob and Pam.
I thought it would be special for them to spend their last evening on Dune Island alone, so they’d end our vacation at The Windmill Cottages on a happy note.
It would kind of make up for the fact we didn’t have electricity for a couple days, but whatever… ”
She had struck a soft spot and she knew it: Caitlin would do whatever she could so Nicole’s parents wouldn’t badmouth the cottages. “I never said I didn’t want you to hang out with me and my friends.”
“Great, then what time are we leaving?”
“Quarter-to-six. The party runs till ten o’clock, and I want to stay till the very end,” Caitlin informed her. “So don’t expect me to leave early because you change your mind and want go to the Club with your mom and stepdad after all.”
“As if,” scoffed Nicole.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Nicole raised her right hand and stated with exaggerated sincerity, “I, Nicole Dixon, do solemnly swear I won’t change my mind and ask you, Caitlin Hines, to give me a ride to the Club or to leave the party early for any reason.
” Then she dropped her hand and said, “I promise, we’ll stay as late as you want, and I won’t complain or make fun of anyone or anything like that. You’ll hardly even know I’m there.”
I bet everyone will know you’re there , because you always make yourself the center of attention , thought Caitlin resentfully. But she agreed, “Okay. I’ll be waiting on our porch at five forty-five—don’t be late.”
“Got it,” Nicole agreed. “Pam will drop by in a little while to confirm with Lydia that there really is a party, there won’t be any drugs or alcohol, and you’ll drive carefully, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.”
“Yeah, I know the drill,” said Caitlin with a sigh.
True to her word, Nicole came traipsing across the green at 5:45. But instead of walking with Caitlin to the driveway, she veered toward the windmill. “I just wanna see if the waves have died down since the storm.”
Ever since Lydia gave Nicole permission to go upstairs, the teenager made an excuse to visit the windmill loft almost every day.
“I’m just taking a peek-a-boo of the water,” she’d tell Caitlin, facetiously quoting Lydia.
Or else she’d claim she was “grabbing extra TP for our cottage,” even though there was a stack of spare rolls next to the filing cabinet downstairs.
Caitlin had quickly realized that Nicole was using the loft as a hiding place for her makeup, as well as for an assortment of skimpy halter tops and miniskirts, or anything else her mother prohibited her from wearing in public.
Nicole would change into the forbidden clothing and then layer her regular outfit over it.
Once she was out of sight, she’d take off her outer garments.
Then, when she returned to Windswept Way, she’d sneak back into the windmill loft to wash her face and hide the other items again, confident that Caitlin would never tell anyone about her secret wardrobe.
Usually, Caitlin didn’t care what Nicole wore; she figured if she was deceiving her mom, or if Pam was being too strict about her daughter’s clothing, that was none of her business. But this evening, Caitlin could barely stand to wait another minute before reuniting with Donald.
“You’re not interested in seeing the water. You’re only going up there to put on a miniskirt or something,” she grumbled. “You already look really nice the way you are. Why would you want to change?”
“You just answered your own question,” Nicole said over her shoulder, before disappearing inside the windmill. “I don’t want to look really nice . I want to look irresistible.”
Oh brother, what “character” is she going to pretend to be tonight? And what poor guy is going to be her next victim? Caitlin wondered. She poked her head inside the windmill and threatened, “If you aren’t down here in three minutes, I swear, I’ll leave without you.”
“No, you won’t. You’re the type who’d never leave someone behind,” she called from the top of the stairs. “You’d feel too guilty.”