Val was breathless when she reached her cottage. Hurrying inside, she shut the door behind her and leaned against it feeling suddenly dizzy. After all she’d done to conceal her identity, her past, her careful cover had been blown. Garth Hasten had recognized her. This man, of all people, to come to this out-of-the-way place. It was unbelievable.
She closed her eyes for a minute. The details of that day that she’d pushed to the back of her mind now came rushing back in agonizing detail. Taking Megan to the specialist in the city and receiving the bad prognosis. Then later, the revelation from Kevin about the embezzlement. It had been the worst day of her life. She wanted to forget it forever. Now, it was impossible.
She had forgotten all about that incident with Garth Hasten in the restaurant. And here he was in Seawood. Wanting to be friends.
All during the next week, Val ventured out very little. The weather turned gray and foggy. That was excuse enough not to go down to the beach. Of course, her real reason was to avoid Garth Hasten. When she walked up to meet Megan’s bus, she went along the seawall instead of the beach.
Sometimes when she was standing at the window facing the ocean, she would see him striding along the edge of the water. Often he seemed to slow his walk below their cottage and look up. Her heart strangely pounding, Val would step back so as not to be seen. Then he’d walk on. He never came up to the cottage door.
When a few days went by and she didn’t see him Val recalled he had told her he was going up to the city. She missed seeing the lights in the cottage at the far end of the inlet. It made her feel lonelier than ever, more isolated.
Then, one Friday night at the end of her shift, Eileen asked Val to take over the register. She had a long-distance call from her daughter back east and wanted to talk to her. Val was just adding up some receipts when a familiar voice asked, “Good evening, Mrs. Madison.”
Val looked up. It was Garth Hasten. “You’re back!”
He was wearing a tweed jacket, button-down shirt, a great-looking tie. He looked very handsome. “Is it too late to be served?”
“No, I don’t think so…” She felt two things at once—unexpected pleasure at seeing him and a concern that she might show it.
Just at that moment, Eileen came out of her office and saw Garth. “Garth Hasten!” she exclaimed. “What a happy surprise!”
“Hi, Eileen,” he greeted her. “Where’s Tom?”
“Watching TV, but wait until I tell him you’re here.” She turned to Val. “We knew Garth in San Francisco when we had our restaurant there. He was one of our favorite customers.” She looked back at Garth. “I guess you’ve been holed up in your beach place painting, haven’t you? It really is great to see you.” Again she turned to Val. “Why don’t you show Garth to a table and I’ll tell Johnny.”
“You brought Johnny down here with you?” Garth said in surprise. “No wonder you’re on the map. You’ve been written up in the Chronicle.” To Val, he explained, “Johnny’s one of the best chefs in northern California.”
“Will it be sole or salmon, then?” Eileen asked.
“Sole will be great, thanks, Eileen.” When Eileen went in search of her husband and to place a dinner order for Garth, he turned a disconcertingly direct gaze on Val. “And how have you been? And how is Megan?”
“Fine, fine. We’re both fine,” she answered, feeling her face warm, her heart beating faster. She fastened the receipts with a paperclip and placed them in the register drawer, realizing her hands were shaking a little.
Garth leaned his elbows on the counter beside the register and said, “I missed you. You and Megan.”
Val looked at him, wondering if her expression gave her away, revealed that she had missed him, too. But Tom came in at that moment and greeted Garth heartily. While the two men were talking, Val slipped out through the kitchen, got her jacket from the employees’ lounge and left.
She hurried down the road to the sitter’s house to pick up Megan. It was irrational to rush out like that, but she had not wanted to linger at The Seawinds.
She had been taken aback by Garth’s sudden appearance, even more by her own reaction to seeing him again. His obvious interest in her was unnerving. There wasn’t room in her life for anyone else. She had all she could handle.
Later, after Megan was tucked in, Val went to the window in the front room and looked out. There were lights in the last cottage. It was then Val realized she had missed Garth Hasten and she was glad he was back in Seawood.
The next day was Saturday, a cold gray morning. Megan was happy, excited because today she had been invited to spend the day with a friend from her kindergarten class. Ever since school started, she had talked endlessly about a little girl named Bonnie. “We’re best friends,” she had announced almost from the first day.
At the open house for parents, Bonnie’s mother, seeing Val with Megan, introduced herself. “I’m Chris Faraday, and you must be Megan’s mom. I guess you know our girls are inseparable. I wonder if you’d allow Megan to come spend the day with Bonnie next Saturday? I couldn’t find a phone listing for you or I’d have called. I thought I might take them to lunch and to Playland Park?”
Val felt the urgent tug on her hand and looked down into Megan’s upturned eager face. She had overheard the invitation. While she’d resisted making friends herself, she knew she couldn’t deprive Megan of the normal pleasures of childhood or keep her in the prison she had created for herself. No matter what, Megan had to have her own life. So permission was given and plans made. The two little girls were ecstatic.
Saturday morning, Val walked with Megan up to the service station on the highway above the beach where they had arranged for Mrs. Faraday to pick her up. That had been Val’s idea. She felt self-conscious about anyone coming to their shabby little cottage. She was ashamed of feeling that way, knowing it was false pride. However, Mrs. Faraday reminded Val of her former neighbors in Meadowbrook; she was well-groomed in the casual style of young California suburbanites. Val still wasn’t comfortable with her present situation in comparison with the life she had lived before. The life Chris Faraday was probably living.
The Faradays’ shiny station wagon was waiting. Mrs. Faraday had a friend with her who was going along. She introduced her, then told Megan to hop in the back seat with Bonnie, and with a wave they drove off. Val stood watching the station wagon disappear down the road, feeling suddenly deserted. That was the sort of thing she and Emily used to do together. Pack the kids in the car and take off for a day at the zoo or park or beach. For a few minutes, Val felt the desperate longing for a friend, for an afternoon lunching or shopping at the mall. It had been so long since she’d done anything frivolous or simply fun.
She turned to start walking back to the cottage. Fog was drifting up from the beach so that even the ocean was blocked from view. It felt depressing. Val wondered how she would fill the hours ahead today, without Megan’s cheerful little presence.
She thrust her hands into her jacket pockets and headed down the sandy hill. Thinking of the day ahead alone was bad enough, but that thought dragged up the bleak picture of the years ahead. A lifetime ahead.
Val wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking, lost in her dreary thoughts, when she saw the dim outline of a figure moving toward her. The beach was deserted. Val threw a quick look over her shoulder. No one else was in sight. The sounds from the highway behind her were muted by the dense fog. For the first time since she had moved here, Val felt a clammy fear slide over her. She stopped. The urge to turn and run in the opposite direction was strong. But she wasn’t sure exactly where she was in relation to her cottage. The figure moved steadily closer. As it came nearer, she let out a sigh of relief. She recognized the man breaking through the swirling mist.
It was Garth Hasten. Her relief was rapidly replaced by a flash of embarrassment. She remembered that she had run out of the restaurant the other evening without even saying goodbye. He must think her terribly rude.
When he was about five feet away, he greeted her jovially, “Well, if it isn’t my neighbor, the elusive Mrs. Madison. All these sunny afternoons we’ve had lately, I’ve looked for you and Megan on the beach, but you were a no-show. Now, here you come out of the fog.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Although his voice had a teasing quality, Val guessed from the expression on his face that he knew the truth that she had been avoiding him. For a minute, the roar of the unseen ocean and the harsh cries of the gulls were the only sounds in the awkward silence that fell between them. Val fumbled with the zipper on her jacket, then pulled the hood up over her head, shivering in the wind.
“Looks like we’re the only ones braving it out today,” Garth said, “except for the gulls. Of course, they’re foraging for food. Which isn’t a bad idea. I was just going in search of some myself. It’s a perfect day for a bowl of clam chowder. Would you and Megan join me?”
“Megan’s gone for the day. To lunch with friends in Oceanview.”
“Then why don’t you come along? Since we’re both on our own. I don’t like eating alone, do you?” He smiled and took a few steps to come beside her. He took her arm and turned her around. “Besides, I’d enjoy the company. I’ve been holed up alone most of the week and it’s getting to me.” He laughed, and before she realized it, they were walking together toward the fishing dock.
Half an hour later, sitting opposite Garth at a table in the steamy dockside diner, spooning delicious, thick, creamy chowder, Val wondered why she had resisted. There was a warm, friendly atmosphere here. Voices and laughter of the commercial fishermen and the “regulars” provided a pleasant background. Her uncertainty about going with him soon disappeared. Garth’s casual, forthright manner made being with him easy.
He told her he had been seeing people in San Francisco related to his art business, and now that all that had been taken care of, he had to settle down to the real work.
“It’s all very well being taken out to dinner, complimented on the last book I did and picking up a few royalty checks. Now I have to produce. You’re only as good as your last book.”
“I’ve seen some of your work,” Val said shyly. “At Megan’s kindergarten there are several of the books you’ve illustrated. Megan happens to love the one about Petey, the squirrel who lives in the tree outside Buddy Bascombe’s house and observes all that goes on inside from his little hole.”
“Well, how about that.” Garth seemed genuinely pleased and surprised. “I did that one at least five years ago. So it’s still around?”
“And being read and loved by children. You should feel proud.”
“I do. It’s very rewarding to know something you do makes someone happy.”
“How did you get started as an illustrator? I mean, it must be very difficult to get assignments, isn’t it?”
“Yes, until you have a track record. You have to serve an apprenticeship. Get known, recognized. Then it’s also luck. Hard work. I peddled my portfolio for a number of years before I got my first real break. I did lots of other things in the meantime before what I’m doing now. Worked for an advertising agency. Hated it. I like being on my own. Choosing my own work.”
He paused. “I had a mentor. Actually, two. One of my art teachers thought I had promise. And his wife. They took me under their wings. Angel wings.” He laughed. “Fed me a lot of times when I probably would have gone hungry. Saw me through the disappointments. Millie, that’s Don’s wife, was particularly wonderful. She had a saying, ‘When one door closes, another opens.’ I’ve found that to be true. You never know what’s in store for you around the next corner. No matter how you plan your life.”
Val thought she could say amen to that. If Garth had any idea how her life had changed, turned upside down, he’d be even more convinced of what he was saying.
Afterward, Val couldn’t remember how long they remained there talking. The waitress came, refilled their coffee mugs several times, but they were scarcely aware of it Of course, it was Garth who did most of the talking. He seemed to realize this. “I’m sorry, I’ve been talking your ear off, haven’t I? You must think I’m a complete egotist” His smile was somewhat sheepish. “And I really want to know about you. That must be pretty obvious. I’ve been hoping for a chance like this. Just to spend some time with you, reassure you. Whatever impression you may have gotten. I’m really quite harmless.”
Val laughed. “I know.”
“Yes, but that first time I was pretty brash, presumptuous, asking you to let Megan model for me.”
“First impressions can often be wrong,” Val said, smiling.
“My first impression of you wasn’t wrong.” Garth looked serious. “I thought you were beautiful, charming and somehow mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” Val felt the color flow into her face.
“Yes, as if—” But Garth didn’t get to finish whatever he was about to say because the waitress came with the check. It was a welcome interruption for Val. They were treading on dangerous territory.
They walked back along the slate gray beach. Coming from the other direction, his cottage was the first one in the row. They stopped just below it and stood there for a few minutes.
“Would you like to come up for a while, toast your toes in front of my fire? The afternoon is still young.” His eyes were hopeful.
Val knew Megan wouldn’t be back until after five. It was tempting, but she decided it wasn’t a good idea. She could imagine the intimate setting, shut off by the fog, sitting together in front of the Franklin stove, the conversation perhaps verging off into the more personal. No, it was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Val shook her head. “No, thanks, I better get home. I have a lot of catching up kind of things to do this weekend. Then I have to go meet Megan.”
Garth looked disappointed but not defeated. He insisted on walking with her to her cottage. At the door, he said, “Maybe, you could come and bring Megan another time? She’d probably enjoy seeing the original paintings of some of the illustrations she might have seen in the books you mentioned.”
“Yes, I’m sure she’d love that,” Val said, thinking how considerate and sensitive of him to include Megan. “Well, thanks for a really enjoyable afternoon.”
“Thank you for coming.” Garth took her hand and held it for a minute. Again, he seemed to be about to say something more. Evidently he thought better of it and instead said, “Be seeing you. Tell Megan ‘hi’ for me.” Then he went whistling down the boardwalk and the fog closed behind him.
Val went inside. She felt happy and also vulnerable. She had enjoyed the unexpected afternoon with Garth Hasten, maybe more than was safe.