Dockside
By Janice McCrostie
Chapter 8
“What crawled up her butt?” Gram asked over a boiling pot of lobsters.
“I’ve got no idea. She’s been like that since she got back this afternoon. Then she just started drinking.” Maeve grinned.
She thought it was rather hilarious. Clare, plus a little annoyed, and a little drunk equaled a really good time. She didn’t really communicate directly with anyone; she was just kind of the vocal subtext in the room. Like when they first arrived and Gram was wearing a slightly low cut top, she made a comment about stripper poles. Gram changed into one of her trademark peasant tops. And when Mike and Keaten had arrived and you could cut the awkwardness with a knife, Clare perked up in the corner commenting on the sexual tension.
“She’s being kind of rude don’t you thing?” It was more of a question then she had meant.
“I think she’s hysterical, and you do too.” Maeve smiled over at her grandmother and watched the corner of her mouth perked up. In an instant the two women were laughing over a melting pot of butter.
“I guess I’ve never been the grandmother who taught manners.”
“No, never.”
The two women finished getting a refresher on the chips and carried them out to the screened in porch where the two men were having a heated discussion on whether or not Keaten could use a new truck.
“You might as well wait until Jackson
The look on Keaten’s face made Mike stop mid sentence and Gram cleared her throat extra loud. All three looked over at Maeve, but she just fussed with the chip platter. It was easier then going into that whole mess right now, when everything else about the evening had been going so well.
Clare and Maeve had arrived shortly after four and began helping with preparation. Being that Clare had done a number on the twelve pack she’d purchased earlier in the day, they had to run to the store and were late. It was a regular island barbeque, with lobsters instead of burgers and plenty of food. Maeve had helped Gram finish up the prep work so that the majority was done and they could all enjoy each other’s company. Clare had wondered around the back yard dancing to her iPod with another beer in her hand.
After the guys had arrived it had been like old times. Chatting over stupid things and enjoying Clare’s random tid bits of wisdom. There was no need to add awkward tension to it.
“I’m going to get some more wine.” Maeve excused herself into the kitchen and checked the lobsters. They were just about ready and she was getting more and more excited, it had been years.
“How they coming?” Keaten was right beside her glancing over her shoulder into the pot.
“Almost there.”
“So I bet your wondering about what my dad said in there.”
“Me? No. I mean, what did your dad say, I wasn’t paying attention, something about a truck?” She rang a dishtowel through her hands to finish her stammer and took a deep breath, “You have a son Keaten.”
“Yes.” He half smiled but she could see that there was concern in his eyes. “Maeve that summer my life was kind of all over the place. I was supposed to get married that fall, but I couldn’t, not after everything. But Rachel was pregnant and so I have Jackson
“You raised him yourself?”
“Pretty much, yes. Rachel moved in land and came back three years ago. Jackson and I took a vote and that’s how we got started again.”
“That’s really none of my business.” Maeve turned and looked in the gravy pot. “Lobsters are ready.”
The conversation vaporized into a cluttered dining room table and laughter. Clare had somewhat cooled down her drinking and was now capable of having conversation, which relieved Maeve. It kept the conversation flowing and by some Grace of God away from the topics Maeve wasn’t all that excited to discuss. She didn’t want to know about Keaten’s love life, especially with someone who apparently had treated him horribly.
Why were some people so stupid? How could he have let her back into his life after she had abandoned him and his son? There were some things Maeve couldn’t understand and allowing someone so negative back into your life like that was one of them. As she sat at the table, pretending to listen to conversation, the thought began to stew in her head. The idea of poor Jackson
“What do you think Maeve?” the question snapped her out of it and she glanced up from the plate of food she’d been playing with.
“Think of what?”
“Only the most relevant question of the night,” Clare continued. “Mike Meyers in Austin Powers or Jim Carey in Ace Ventura
“That’s a silly question.”
“I think it’s important.” Keaten watched her from across the table. From the tone in his voice Maeve got the impression that he had been watching her all along.
“You probably would.” She stood abruptly and began clearing the table.
“Maeve we’re not finished.” Gram’s voice cut through and Maeve met her gaze.
“Oh,” her cheeks flushed. She looked at all their faces, utter confusion soaked the room. Without another word she turned and left the porch.
“What in the blue hell is going on with my granddaughters tonight?”
The minute she hit the threshold she was kicking herself for making such a stupid scene. But that’s what Maeve did. She let things bottle up until something happened that made her act like a complete fool. Throwing her plate down into the sink she tried to think of a way to make this better. The worst part, she knew, was that she couldn’t know for certain if everyone else noticed her weird behavior for sure. So an apology could make matters worse. Well there was one person she knew who had noticed.
“House rule number 2, no acting like a girl.” Clare was leaning on the counter next to her.
“Was it that bad?”
“It was pretty bad, what’s up?”
Maeve looked towards the porch. “Are they talking about it?”
“Two men and Gram? Seriously? Mike and Gram are thinking about smoking and Keaten is trying to convince them they’re too old. Which went over really well, let me tell you.”
“I’m just thinking too much, there’s so much going on up here.” Maeve pointed to her head.
“Then stop.” Clare thought it was that easy, to just stop over thinking. Maeve wished it was that easy for her. She’d never been that person who can let things go that easily. Plus this was important, it affected a little boy.
“Clare I can’t do that,” she dropped her voice to a whisper. “How could he let that bitch back into Jackson
“Oh Maeve my darling,” Clare draped her arm around her sisters shoulders, leaned in towards her ear. “It’s none of your business. And if I know anything about lover boy, he’s beat himself up enough about it so you don’t need to do it too.”
She turned and walked back out onto the porch leaving Maeve to think about the logical gem. Clare was right, he probably was tearing himself up over it and who was she to judge more. She hadn’t made the greatest decisions in her life either, but she had to live with them. Her heart broke sometimes when she thought about the small insignificant things she had messed up; she couldn’t imagine impacting the life of a child. If she knew him and she believed she did, Keaten would never forgive himself.
Maeve walked back onto the porch and took her seat again.
“So?” Keaten asked. “Mike Meyers or Jim Carey.”
“Jim Carey, easy.” She smiled across the table at him.
“Ha! I knew it,” He high-fived her. “Definitely funnier, Pops!”
Mike argued that no matter what anyone said, Meyers was funnier. Clare attacked; pointing out that the slinky scene in the second Ace Ventura was the funniest in movie history. The three of them went back and forth, while Gram and Maeve sat listening, humor on their faces. It went on like this for about twenty minutes, laughter being the main event. Either cracking up at a part of one of the movies or at the argument someone had made regarding it. It felt odd and comfortable to Maeve, like a family.
“Well I have to run and pick up Jackson
The whole table fell silence, but Clare seemed to understand exactly what he was doing.
“Love to.” The two left the room without another word, leaving Maeve with a look of surprise, Mike completely oblivious and Gram with a knowing look just like Clare’s.
“That boy.” As she stood she began to clear the table. “Maeve, NOW we’re finished.”
Chapter 9
“You’re extremely sneaky Keaten but lets get something straight, you fuck with my sister I’m going to kill you.”
“I’m not going to ‘fuck with’ your sister.”
“Good because I don’t know where I’d hide the body.”
They sat in silence for a bit, both knowing exactly what the other wanted to know. Now it was just a waiting game. But Clare knew the island wasn’t that big and they would be arriving at wherever Jackson
“So what the hell happened 8 years ago?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy with me McGuire,” she tried to put on her best bad cop face. “How could you treat my sister like one of your tourist hussies?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah then what was it like?” Clare interrupted. She hadn’t realized how pissed she really was. He didn’t say anything, trying to figure out the right way to explain it. So she thought she would explain something first. “Keaten you broke my sister that summer. It took her two years to start dating again and even then she didn’t make the best choice.”
He looked inquisitively over at her.
“What types of choices?’
“No, no, no. You give me something. Then I’ll dish…”
“Clare I’ve been in love with your sister since I was a kid.”
She gagged on the nothing that was in her throat. THAT was something she hadn’t expected. She was prepared for onward babblings of how hot she looked and he was young and he just acted on his male urges. She hadn’t factored in that he had been in love with Maeve. It was kind of stupid on her part; that was the only thing that could really explain it all.
“How could you date other people if you were in love with her?’
He laughed at her question, maybe because it was one he had asked himself.
“Sometimes being in love with someone makes you need affection from others even more.”
Clare took a minute to stew on that. She had never been in love so she couldn’t really understand. Could that be possible? Clare didn’t want to think so. For all her rants about never wanting to feel the gooey stuff, she did believe in true love. And somehow true love just didn’t mean impregnating someone else.
“That’s how I fell for Rachel. She’s a lot like your sister.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Yeah I guess your right.” He glanced tentatively over at Clare. “It’s your turn, what did you mean by Mae making bad choices.”
“Oh we’re back to old nicknames are we?” Her teasing didn’t go over very well. She took a breath, her sister was going to kill her for this but honesty was the best start to any relationship, and Clare knew her sister wouldn’t tell him the truth. “She was engaged, a few years back. About two weeks before the wedding he broke up with her. Maeve and I aren’t close, so she never really told me why. My sister doesn’t cry in front of people, or she does her best not to. Everything was planned, the dress, the hall, the food, the plane tickets and she didn’t cry in front of me. He was the only one between that summer and now, Keaten. You broke my sister.”
Clare on the other hand did cry in front of people and her eyes began to fill. She wiped at them, hopefully before he noticed. But the break in her voice was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
She’d composed herself because she knew it was what her sister would have done.
“See that’s the thing about Maeve, one of the things I’m learning, she doesn’t play the victim, so she doesn’t want your apology. You should just know that what you did that summer changed her and I’m still figuring out how.” Through the fading sunlight she could see that what he’d been told hurt. Why not give him something to hold on to. “But one thing I do know, one thing I knew since she brought Sam home, she never loved him.”
“I guess I just thought I was only putting my own heart at risk.”
“Way to go champ.” She patted his shoulder as they pulled up to the ball field. “Maybe you shouldn’t think with your wanger next time!”
They laughed as they hopped out off the truck. The young boy running towards them was the spitting image of Keaten. He had the same dark hair and big lips with that huge grin on his face.
“Dad!! I hit 2 home runs today at practice and the coach said that I’m gonna be the first at bat next game.”
“That’s great Jackson
“It’s home! So we can have everyone come!” For the first time Jackson
“Jackson
“Hi.” Was all she got from him.
“Hey.” She walked to the door and propped it open. “You mind riding in the middle, I’m pretty sure it would make me blow chunks.”
The thought made him laugh as he barreled out of his father’s arms and ran towards the car.
“Yeah, sure.” He climbed inside and strapped himself in.
The drive back to the house was spent debating whether the Autobots or the Deceptacons were cooler. Jackson
When they entered the house Jackson
“Where’s Pop & Grace?”
“They took a walk.” She looked away from Jackson
“Right. Jackson
Clare couldn’t quiet make out the look on the boys face. He was staring Maeve down but not in an angry way, almost like complete clarity had come to him.
“Hi Jackson
“Good.”
“Jackson
“That would be fun.” She got up from her chair and as she passed Keaten he could feel the chill. She stopped next to her sister and the thought if looks could kill ran through Clare’s mind.
A moment after she’d left the room the sound of a car engine echoed from the driveway.
“Hey Keaten, can I get a ride home?”
The next morning when Clare came down the stairs Maeve sat on the porch with her cup of coffee, watching the woods. She grabbed some coffee and tentatively let herself out the sliding door, not knowing whether or not the dynamite was going to blow.
“Hi.” She curved into the chair opposite her sister, all the while making the ‘I’m so sorry so can we get this over with’ face.
“Morning.” Maeve stared ahead for one more beat. “So what the hell did you two talk about last night? I’m going to guess it wasn’t the Sox or the Mets?”
“Let’s go Mets.” Clare shot one fist in the air with her lackluster chant.
“Clare!”
“Fine.” She turned towards her sister and told the story of last night, leaving out the fact that she’d cried and told Keaten that Maeve was broken. Somehow Clare knew that was a deal breaker. She finished by telling her about Jackson’s game coming up next week and how they all planned to go.
Maeve sat there for a minute and Clare could tell that she was trying to figure out how to react. Leaning forward in her chair, she could see her sister’s eyes glossing up. They shot up and met Clare’s gaze, disbelief behind them.
“Maeve, do you know what the name of his boat is?”
“No.” The bitterness dissolved slightly.
“Check it out sometime.” She stood up and gave a big grin. “I have to get ready for work.”
Clare left her stewing on the porch. Hopefully Maeve would forgive her for the ride along and run head on into Keaten’s arms. Only time would tell.
Chapter 10
Over the next week Clare fell into an easy rhythm at her job and, from what Maeve could tell, she actually liked it. Of course it wasn’t so much the cleaning, more the snooping that she enjoyed.
It turned out that Maeve and Estelle got along great, when Estelle wasn’t yelling at her for having no back bone. This balanced out well with Maeve’s cleaning and reorganizing the shop every time Estelle turned her back.
She had a great vision for the shop, she could see the shelves dusted, shined, with new tapestries hanging from the windows. If she could pull it off without Estelle noticing she was certain that it would help to bring in more touristy business to the shop. It stunk, but in this day and age you had to play the part in order to get the product sold. Maeve learned all this through the few years of law she had under her belt.
Whenever she had walked into her large office, she played her character, the sharp accountant who could handle any case. And that was part of who she was, part of who she had forced herself to become. It had been self preservation, convince herself she was a badass CPA and then the life she’d planned would work itself out.
Looking around the small shop now she breathed a sigh of relief, thank God she’d gotten out of that world. In the past week she’d realized that it would have killed her. Eventually she would have brought her shark tactics into her personal life, they would have taken over. And then Maeve would have slipped even deeper into the person that she didn’t know.
She was working in a back corner of the shop, keeping one ear open for the sound of the bells she had hung on the door. Her idea was to slowly but surely organize the books into sections by genre. So far Estelle hadn’t noticed that the fiction novels had been separated into their different types. Or that Maeve had delicately each theme on stationary she had found at an old thrift store and affixed them to the front of the shelves.
Having finished the back wall before , Maeve now was knee deep in old romance novels. The names of the different books made her laugh and she wondered if she ever wrote a romance novel what it would be like.
She flipped open one aptly titled “Our Precious Lust.” Flicking past the first half of the novel she scanned over some words that caught her eye, mostly pulsating, passionate, quivering and groping. Maeve began to read full paragraphs shortly after groping.
Groping at her bodice, he freed her two perfect breasts and took them in his mouth. He played with her nipple between his teeth, pulling slightly at the gentle flesh. Playing, he ran his tongue across her chest to her right breast, licking at the hard round nipple. Her back arched towards him and the begging words left her lips without command. Suddenly Joaquin decided that he had tortured Miranda long enough. He plunged deep inside her and she let out a long gasp. The initial connection made both freeze in the moment and then with the understanding of it being meant, he pushed deeper inside her and began the pleasant rhythm…
Maeve slammed the book shut, unsettled by the new sensation running through her body.
“Stupid book.” She stacked the book back on the pile next to her and pulled herself up just in time to hear the bells of the door chime.
Coming around the front shelf she found herself face to face with the subject of her own lust. She stopped short, hoping there was no reminisce of what she’d been reading on her face.
“What are you doing way back there?”
“Organizing some books.” She played with her hair; pressing it to her head like if it were unruly he would know what she had been reading.
“Really? Looks like a little more then that?” He put his hand on her chin and examined her flushed cheeks. “What types of books are you organizing?” he teased.
“Nothing in particular.” She pushed past him and behind the counter. Collecting herself as much as possible she turned towards him again, this time with the register between them. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I wanted to remind you about Jackson
“Somehow I doubt that.” She scoffed. “After my chipper display last Saturday he probably thinks I’m a complete dork.”
“No he doesn’t.” Keaten laughed. “Not a complete dork.”
Maeve tried to busy herself with some old deposit slips she’d found between some books. When the store had first opened it had done very well, but of course back then she sold mostly Bibles and autobiographies.
“Maeve, he’s starting.” He put his hand on top of hers.
She looked up. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you at seven.”
The bells jingled again as he left the shop. Their 5 minute interchange had left her confused. That sudden family feeling swept over her again and she felt an obligation to go to the game.
It would be nice though, a good way to officially introduce herself to the community. She picked up the phone; she had to be certain Clare would come too.
Clare had her face in a toilet rocking out to her iPod when her cell rang. She twisted against the wall and used the leverage of toilet seat to pull off her glove. Reaching behind her into her back pocket her hand slipped and she whacked her head on the bowl.
“Shit!” Rubbing the spot above her ear, she flip open the phone. “Hello?”
There was definitely someone on the other end, there was a broken greeting followed by some mashed together words. Why would any one even try to make a cell phone call on this island?
She pulled it away from her ear to check her bars; she had one, sometimes two. Clare ended the call and watch Maeve’s name blink brightly on the screen. She opened up a text screen as she walked towards the door, maybe she would have better service outside the motel room.
“Whatchoo want?” Clare texted through the phone lines and waited until the screen told her it went through.
Breathing in deep one last time before she entered the cloud of Clorox, Clare spotted Jasper at the ice cream shop across the street. He was wearing his trademark jeans with a hunter green button down; Ray Ban Sunglasses covered his eyes. He looked so good she’d almost forgotten the horrid scene from last Saturday. Well, she thought, as she slipped back inside, he missed out on a hell of a good time. She put her ear pieces back into place and danced to a few lines of Aerosmith before heading back into the bathroom. Her cell phone vibrated with a response but she ignored it for right now. This was her last room of the day and with the help of Steven Tyler she hoped to finish quickly.
Soon after Clare began working at the toilet again she was lost in thoughts of Jasper, more specifically the way he kissed her. Like he knew the exact pressure points of her lips and cheeks, like he’d been kissing her for years. The way his mouth had felt on her neck came back to her in a hot rush. Then there was the way he looked at her, like he could see through her walls. Well, she wouldn’t call them walls, but others in the past have.
Her daydreams and Steven were why she didn’t hear the door click open and close, or notice a new shadow in the hotel room. It wasn’t until Jasper was firmly braced in the doorway and Clare was nearly lying behind the toilet that she noticed him standing there.
“Gaa!” He scared the crap out of her.
“That’s quite a welcoming.” He grinned down at her like a fallen Cherub.
“That’s because you’re not welcome, you’re trespassing.” Clare pried herself up from the floor. She must have looked like a complete tool. If she could have made it to the phone she would have called the desk, but his 6 foot whatever frame was blocking that from ever happening.
“May I?”
“No.” He derailed from his usual politeness.
They did the two people in a hallway dance, except this time someone was stopping the other from passing.
“Are you 5!?” Clare burst out, utter frustration in her voice.
“Maybe.” He caught her waist as she tried to slip by, put one hand to her cheek. She tried to shrug away with no success, he just pulled her tighter. Clare fought it for about second, but then she realized she could feel his muscles through his thin shirt.
Jasper’s finger ran along her jaw. He leaned forward so his lips were closer to her ear.
“How was your week?” he asked, still lingering close.
“Good. Yours?”
“Eh, it was alright.”
Clare couldn’t believe he was carrying on such casual conversation as he toyed with her neck, her hair, her mind. The cliché “the tables have turned” ran through her mind.
“May I take you to dinner tonight?”
“Yes. I mean no!” She suddenly remembered Jackson
Suddenly they were back to reality and Clare actually regretted it. She gently pushed away at his chest.
“I like hotdogs.”
She laughed and put her head to his chest. “It is at the town field, I’m not sure they have refreshments.”
“Oh. I guess we’ll have to settle for an expensive bottle of wine after the game.”
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