joints were close to their midnight closing, and north past a place where on the beach he saw the silhouettes of people around the red coals of a driftwood fire, and north past the big dark beach houses.
When he drove into the triple carport, parking between Mary’s station wagon and Debbie Ann’s little white Porsche Speedster, Mary said, “Will you come in for a nightcap?”
“I guess I better just…”
“Please, Mike. Just for a minute or two.” Her voice was still casual, but the appeal was clear. He went into the kitchen with her. She made the drinks and they carried them out onto the patio. Stars were reflected, motionless in the black surface of the small swimming pool. He sat in one of the big redwood chairs and she sat ten feet away on a hassock.
“Did you like the Club, Mike?”
“It’s a gay place.”
“Bernard and I used to belong. But living up on Ravenna Key, we didn’t get down very often. It’s much handier, living here. We get a lot of use out of it.”
“The food is fine.”
“How about the people, Mike? How about the people?” She laughed. “You told me you are a qualified people-watcher.”
“I can’t say much without sounding pretentious. I got this out of it. They seem anxious. I don’t know why. It’s as if they had the correct scoop that tomorrow a hurricane washes the Club out to sea. Or prohibition is coming back. Or sex is going to be outlawed. I don’t know. They seem to try too hard. They press. And it isn’t that a lot of them are retired, maybe a little too young. Most of them work. It’s the same all over the country, I guess. But it seems concentrated here, somehow. Like they have to do everything there is to do right now. It gave me the jumps. It’s contagious. I emptied two drinks faster than I like to drink, and I had to say whoa boy.”
“I feel that too, Mike. It’s… undignified.”
“That’s a word I was hunting for.”
“But there were lots of nice ones there.”
“Nice ones everywhere. I met one nice one. Shirley McGuire. She flattered me, laid it on with a trowel, butter from head to foot. I respond fine to flattery.”
“Oh, she’s Martha Tennyson’s niece. A new friend of Debbie Ann’s. I’ve met her, but I don’t really know her. She’s getting a divorce, you know.”
“She told me.”
“She’s an… interesting looking girl.”
“She talked to me, and that Rob Raines talked to me.”
“What did Rob talk about?”
Mike crossed his fingers in the darkness. “Sailboats.”
“He’s very high on sailing. Debbie Ann crewed for him in Yacht Club races when she was practically a child. She has a silver cup they won. He seems very interested now, but I can’t feel he’s right for Debbie Ann. There’s a sort of… heaviness about him. He doesn’t seem to have the light touch.”
There was a silence. He heard the ice rattle in the bottom of her glass as she finished the weak drink she had made herself.
“Mike?”
“Yes, Mary.”
“About what you said this morning. I wanted you to come in because I thought I wanted to talk. But I don’t. Not yet.”
“Any time.”
“I have to do some more thinking. And even then, I don’t want to… drop my troubles in your lap. When I do talk, I won’t be asking you to do anything. It will be just… to get my own emotions straightened out. And even that isn’t fair to you. To have you come down here and then—”
“Knock it off, Mary. I’m your friend. I’m Troy’s friend. I’ll listen because I want to. Okay?”
“Okay, Mike.”
He said goodnight to her and went out the kitchen door toward the private guest wing entrance. The night was very still. The richness of jasmine hung in the air, almost too strong. He felt no desire for sleep, so he changed to swim trunks and slippers, took a towel and went over to the beach. After he was in he realized it made him uneasy to swim at night. The water seemed to have an oily texture. He could imagine monsters sleekly
When he drove into the triple carport, parking between Mary’s station wagon and Debbie Ann’s little white Porsche Speedster, Mary said, “Will you come in for a nightcap?”
“I guess I better just…”
“Please, Mike. Just for a minute or two.” Her voice was still casual, but the appeal was clear. He went into the kitchen with her. She made the drinks and they carried them out onto the patio. Stars were reflected, motionless in the black surface of the small swimming pool. He sat in one of the big redwood chairs and she sat ten feet away on a hassock.
“Did you like the Club, Mike?”
“It’s a gay place.”
“Bernard and I used to belong. But living up on Ravenna Key, we didn’t get down very often. It’s much handier, living here. We get a lot of use out of it.”
“The food is fine.”
“How about the people, Mike? How about the people?” She laughed. “You told me you are a qualified people-watcher.”
“I can’t say much without sounding pretentious. I got this out of it. They seem anxious. I don’t know why. It’s as if they had the correct scoop that tomorrow a hurricane washes the Club out to sea. Or prohibition is coming back. Or sex is going to be outlawed. I don’t know. They seem to try too hard. They press. And it isn’t that a lot of them are retired, maybe a little too young. Most of them work. It’s the same all over the country, I guess. But it seems concentrated here, somehow. Like they have to do everything there is to do right now. It gave me the jumps. It’s contagious. I emptied two drinks faster than I like to drink, and I had to say whoa boy.”
“I feel that too, Mike. It’s… undignified.”
“That’s a word I was hunting for.”
“But there were lots of nice ones there.”
“Nice ones everywhere. I met one nice one. Shirley McGuire. She flattered me, laid it on with a trowel, butter from head to foot. I respond fine to flattery.”
“Oh, she’s Martha Tennyson’s niece. A new friend of Debbie Ann’s. I’ve met her, but I don’t really know her. She’s getting a divorce, you know.”
“She told me.”
“She’s an… interesting looking girl.”
“She talked to me, and that Rob Raines talked to me.”
“What did Rob talk about?”
Mike crossed his fingers in the darkness. “Sailboats.”
“He’s very high on sailing. Debbie Ann crewed for him in Yacht Club races when she was practically a child. She has a silver cup they won. He seems very interested now, but I can’t feel he’s right for Debbie Ann. There’s a sort of… heaviness about him. He doesn’t seem to have the light touch.”
There was a silence. He heard the ice rattle in the bottom of her glass as she finished the weak drink she had made herself.
“Mike?”
“Yes, Mary.”
“About what you said this morning. I wanted you to come in because I thought I wanted to talk. But I don’t. Not yet.”
“Any time.”
“I have to do some more thinking. And even then, I don’t want to… drop my troubles in your lap. When I do talk, I won’t be asking you to do anything. It will be just… to get my own emotions straightened out. And even that isn’t fair to you. To have you come down here and then—”
“Knock it off, Mary. I’m your friend. I’m Troy’s friend. I’ll listen because I want to. Okay?”
“Okay, Mike.”
He said goodnight to her and went out the kitchen door toward the private guest wing entrance. The night was very still. The richness of jasmine hung in the air, almost too strong. He felt no desire for sleep, so he changed to swim trunks and slippers, took a towel and went over to the beach. After he was in he realized it made him uneasy to swim at night. The water seemed to have an oily texture. He could imagine monsters sleekly
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