IF BETH HAD HAD a choice, she would have drifted all night in the dark with Blaze. She would have moved to Arizona with him, gone to the Arctic with him, pioneered on the moon with him. However, it seemed premature to announce this to Blaze, as boys were apt to vanish at the first syllable of serious intent.
Blaze was telling her about how this had been the longest summer of his entire life. The family situation certainly seemed complex. His mother’s corporation had promoted her to a position in California; his father’s corporation had promoted him to a position in Dallas. While his parents tried to figure out what they were going to do, Blaze got accepted at a college in New York City, and his uncle and aunt in Westerly offered to take him for the summer while his parents moved, wherever they ended up going. In the end, each parent had taken each promotion and now Blaze had no real home at all.
Beth could not imagine going off in the world without having an actual place to go back to. She would always have Westerly, and in some way, it would always have her.
“Going to college in New York City?” she repeated. She would have to introduce him to Kip. Kip would love it. A handsome boy from Arizona to escort her her first week in town.
But would I love that? Beth asked herself. My daydream come true. Finally, around the corner, there he is, the perfect boy. So I take him on board the Duet and who does he have his duet with? Kip, of course. A better, brighter choice than me, anyhow. Who won’t be hundreds of miles away, but right there, in the same town. Maybe even the same dorm.
Beth’s heart sank. Probably in the same classes, too, she thought, majoring in the same subject…
“So what will you be doing?” he asked. They all asked that. Tiredly she told him about the community college and waitressing. All her thoughtful genes won out, and Beth said, “I’ll have to introduce you to a girl on board, one of my best friends, who’s going to be in New York for college, too.” Beth steeled herself. “You’ll love her,” she added. Beth tried to remember Kip’s real name, since Kip intended a fresh, nickname-less start to college. “Katharine Elliott is her name,” she finished, feeling saintly.
“Hey, that’d be great. I’d love that. There’s only one problem, Beth. You can climb aboard, but I have to return this boat to the boat rental. Calvin didn’t seem like the type to laugh if one of his boats never returned.”
“Oh, if that isn’t just like life!” she said crossly. “Always boats to be returned to boat rental. I hate details. Life should be free of niggly little details. You should just be able to sail on to the next happy event without worrying about boats getting returned.”
He was grinning at her, and the thin features seemed momentarily hers, as if she owned them, or had blended with them. They talked about life’s annoyances for a moment. “What are you going to study in college?” he asked abruptly.
He thought I was interesting, Beth Rose mused. He liked what I said about boat returns. But now I’ll tell him what I’m studying and he’ll laugh at me, not with me. If only she could answer something thrilling like astronomy or automobile design. “I kind of want to teach sixth grade,” she said, “so I guess I’ll study a little bit of everything.”
“I loved sixth,” Blaze told her. “All the good stuff is in sixth. Ancient history and Stonehenge. I remember when we got to Egypt we built pyramids out of sugar cubes. We were bringing shoe boxes to school so we could make dioramas about early agriculture.”
Beth was delighted. “I loved all that,” she confessed. “It was the last time I was really terrific in school. My shoe boxes were always the best.”
“Not mine,” Blaze said. “I’m pretty good at grades, but I haven’t hit anything I want to do for a lifetime. I’m hoping to find the shoe box of my dreams at college.” He stood up, started the engine on the first rip of the cord, and set a course for the Duet. Beth no longer felt like shouting a conversation. Why had he broken off their talk like that? Of course, it was probably just that he was fulfilling his promise to get her to the Duet. But maybe she had gotten boring, and he was lying about sixth grade pyramids and couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
“Here we are, Beth. Throw that guy the line right behind you, okay?”
She grabbed the rope he was pointing to. It was odd, throwing a rope (which partially stayed with you) instead of a ball (which left completely). It was caught by, of all people, Con Winter, who whipped it efficiently around a cleat. The Duet idled, its engines quieter, and the little skiff banged gently against the tubby sides of the bigger boat.
“Hi, Con,” Beth said. “The ice cream has melted away. If you wanted it solid, you should have waited for me.”
Con just laughed. “The Duet waits for nobody,” he informed her. “Sailing times are never flexible. Those who are tardy make separate voyages. Welcome aboard.” He reached a hand down for her. Beth was frightened. The skiff felt awfully tippy. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to step, or anything to grip with her other hand.
Gary materialized next to Con with two more hands out, and with a push from Blaze she was up and over. The boys enjoyed it, but Beth had never felt so awkward nor so heavy.
“Con?” she said. “Can Blaze come to the party, too?”
“Sure, the more the merrier. Let me ask the captain if we can just tie his boat and let it follow us in the wake.”
Con darted off. Blaze, surprised and pleased, waited. Gary whispered in her ear, “So who’s this, Beth?”
“This is my friend, Blaze,” she said, making introductions. “Gary—Blaze.”
The dark, sleek boy on board half-saluted the tanned, sharp-edged boy sitting in the bobbing skiff. It seemed to Beth they were eyeing each other very warily. Perhaps they’re both in love with me, she thought, and they’re checking out the competition.
She laughed to herself. It was just dark, and they had to narrow their eyes to see each other.
“Captain says no problem,” Con informed them. “He saw the skiff; he’s going to radio Calvin Rentals to tell him this one’ll be in later.”
They retied the skiff in another location and yanked Blaze aboard. Con said that any friend of Beth’s was a friend of his, which was certainly news to Beth. Beth began introducing Blaze to everybody. It was enormous fun. Blaze was good-looking, and completely unknown. Where Beth could have found a boyfriend from Arizona in the few hours since they had seen her last was something they were dying to know. In honor of the occasion, Blaze put his shirt back on and accepted a Coke.
“Blaze, this is my friend Anne,” began Beth Rose, “the party’s for her. And this is my friend Susan. And my friend Mike. And my—”
Molly? What was she doing here? They had not invited her! They would never invite her! It was unthinkable to have Molly—who had tried to get Con to abandon Anne when she was pregnant—who had tried to get Anne falsely arrested only last New Year’s Eve—
Beth wanted to throw her right overboard.
But there she stood, smiling at Blaze, her little head with its cute new haircut turned to the side, so that her earrings danced. Elfin. Adorable.
She’s a troll, Beth Rose thought grimly, waiting under a bridge to capture the innocent.
But Beth had introduced everybody else as “my friend so and so.” She couldn’t change the pattern, it would be too cruel, too obvious. She didn’t want Blaze to think she could be mean to people she didn’t like.
“And this is my friend Molly,” said Beth unwillingly.