Another Summer (9 page)

After several more turns onto narrower and narrower roads, he pulled up to a small, rustic bungalow surrounded by redwoods and pines.

“This is where you live?” Aware from her own research how many boards he sat on, how often he was paid to testify, and how much he was paid as CEO of H.O.M.E., she’d expected something a little grander.

“I needed a place to live after the divorce and stumbled across this house.” He chuckled. “I couldn’t believe my luck when it turned out I could actually afford it.” He climbed out of the car, then leaned down to ask, “You want to come in?”

She was relieved to discover she did have her limits and knew where to draw the line. “Thanks, but I’ll wait out here.”

He was back in less than a minute, a folder in one hand, a coat in the other. He put both in the backseat. “I thought you might need something more substantial than that windbreaker. It can get cold on the bay.”

An hour later she was standing on the deck of the
Western Flyer,
wrapped in Matt’s coat, her head pulled into the collar turtle fashion, trying unsuccessfully to decide the last time she’d been as cold. Matt stood next to her in his shirtsleeves talking to the crew as they prepared to leave the berth and maneuver through the harbor to open ocean.

The
Western Flyer
was a twin-hull research vessel operated by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Ed had explained that they were on their way to measure the rise rate of carbon dioxide droplets in the upper ocean. Why anyone would care, she didn’t know, but intended to ask when they reached their destination.

Another half hour and she was standing at the railing, the wind to her back, focused on the five-hundred-foot towers at the electrical plant at Moss Landing. They emitted steam into the fog-laden air like the nostrils of a fire-breathing dragon. The ship’s crew had confidently predicted the fog would be gone by noon, but it didn’t matter whether it was or not. Their work was conducted underwater by a remote-operated vehicle, and transmitted to television monitors in a heated cabin by a high-resolution HDTV camera.

She loved being a part of anything that was behind the scenes. Always had, from the time she was five and her father had taken her into the pits at a NASCAR race where she’d watched a crew frantically try to fix a wrecked car to get it back on the track to finish the race. When she’d visited a movie studio, the actors weren’t what caught her attention. It was the director and cameraman and lighting people. The summer she’d worked for the state legislators’ office she’d paid more attention to the mechanics that brought a bill to the floor than its actual introduction.

Matt came over and leaned against the railing, his back to the shore, his gaze locked on her face. He had a disconcerting way of looking directly in her eyes, as if, at that moment, she were the most important person in his life.

“Do you want to go inside? You look a little cold.”

“I am, but I don’t want to miss anything. I overheard someone at the institute say a pod of killer whales was spotted in the bay this morning.”

“You’ve never seen them in the wild?”

“I’ve never even seen one in a tank. But then I don’t like seeing caged animals of any kind. When I was eight my sister won a canary in a raffle. I couldn’t stand seeing it confined, so while she was at a friend’s house I turned it loose. I never admitted what I’d done, but my father sat me down and gave me a lecture about how hard it is for an animal raised as a pet to survive in the wild.”

“I have a friend doing research on the familial ties and social structure in killer whale pods. She’s downright militant about closing any park that uses marine life for entertainment.”

“Every cause has its extremists.” His eyes captivated her. They were a deep-sea blue and surrounded by lashes as thick and black as his hair. In the short time they’d been together she’d instinctively realized Matt Landry was exactly what he purported to be. There were no hidden meanings to what he said, no guarded aspects to his personality, no playing her for what she knew or believed.

Without saying a word he’d let her know he understood who and what she was and that it was okay with him. It was the kind of acceptance she’d only experienced with her family and, even then, with qualifications. Donna wanted her to be more social, Alexis more aggressive, her father more focused. Not that Matt wouldn’t have his own opinions if he knew her better. She was miles from perfect, a work in progress, a lump of clay spinning on a potter’s wheel ripe with possibilities.

“I believe in extremists. I don’t think anything would ever get accomplished without them.”

“You can’t be serious.” She believed true change came from reasonable people willing to compromise.

“Without someone to set the pendulum’s swing, we wouldn’t know where to find the middle. None of us in the business of making changes gets everything we want, the extremists allow us to look like moderates and to go after changes that will make a difference.”

“I understand how you might feel this way about those on the left, but what about the right?”

He laughed. “You’re quick, Kelly. And you’re not afraid of me. I can’t tell you how refreshing that is.”

“I imagine it can get lonely up there on the pedestal,” she teased, enjoying herself with him more than she had any man in a long time.

Suddenly serious, he said, “You have no idea.”

The words stuck a chord of response that melted another layer of reserve.
Oh, no you don’t,
her obnoxious inner voice warned.
No matter how tempting, no matter how intriguing, you will not go where this man could lead you.

This time she listened … reluctantly.

AS PREDICTED, BY NOON THE SUN HAD WON
its battle with the fog, thinning the drops of water like a five-year-old with a stickpin in a room full of balloons. The
Western Flyer
had reached its destination and launched the remote-operated vehicle.

Everything was in place to begin the experiment.

Matt provided a running commentary, only a fraction of which Kelly understood. She did, however, manage to grasp the overall picture and ask questions a step above rudimentary.

They were there to measure how fast carbon dioxide would rise to the surface when released at different depths. The depth today was eight hundred meters, the release made in a plastic box that protected the droplets from lateral water movement but without a top or bottom to impede its upward motion.

Kelly watched the progress on the bank of monitors. After several minutes she leaned closer to Matt, and said softly, “I understand what’s going on, but I’m a long way from understanding why.”

“The oceans act as a clearinghouse for the earth’s carbon dioxide, but it’s a painfully slow process. Until the last century there was no need for it to occur any faster. Now there’s compelling evidence that the carbon dioxide–which is primarily a by-product of modern industry, our love of the automobile, and the destruction of the rain forests–is responsible for the disappearance of the ozone layer.”

“Resulting in what is commonly called the greenhouse effect,” Kelly added.

“You’ve done your homework.”

“I’ve read your book.” According to a note on the dust jacket, all profits from the sale of the book went to environmental groups, including one she actually recognized, The Nature Conservancy. She was usually skeptical about such things, having seen too many balance sheets come through the office with travel, entertainment, equipment, and questionable miscellaneous items listed as expenses that were charged against profit. Now that she’d been to Matt’s house, seen his bicycle, and his on-loan car, knowing he borrowed a surfboard instead of owning one, she was willing to bet that unless he had a secret bank account in the Cayman Islands, there were, indeed, donations being made to the charities designated.

“But I don’t understand what releasing bubbles–” And then it hit her. “Oh, I get it. You’re testing to see if you can get the ocean to absorb the carbon dioxide faster.”

“Without creating a bigger mess than we already have. We don’t want to jump into a ‘cure’ that turns out to be worse than the problem.”

“This seems more a business solution than something an environmentalist would come up with. I thought you guys were focused on stopping the pollution, not finding a way to live with it.”

“Us guys?” Matt repeated.

“Sorry, it just came out.” Even while sparring with him, she was aware of him physically. She wasn’t a toucher. She never put her hand on someone’s arm during a conversation to make a point or intimate closeness. Yet she found it was almost all she could think about with Matt. At one point she’d actually reached up to adjust his collar before she realized what she was doing and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Then it was as much as she could do to keep from brushing his hair back from his forehead when they went inside to watch the monitors.

“Those of us who have done the research and come up with the facts and figures are in a race for answers. We’ve recognized we’re not going to win the cooperation of enough countries in time to stop what’s happening, so we’re looking for a backup plan.”

Spoken in a careful, even tone that belied the importance of the message, the words were too devastating to absorb all at once. Either she believed Matt and his friends were wrong, or she believed the planet was dying. On that, there was no middle ground. “There are a lot of people–good people–who disagree with you.”

“If I hadn’t seen the evidence for myself, I would look for a way to disagree with me, too. It’s a damn big pill to swallow.”

“What evidence?”

A slow smile formed. “If we do this now, you’re going to fall asleep in class.”

There was something about the way he said it that made Kelly hesitate. “How do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“Live like this. How can you get up in the morning knowing–believing–what you do?”

Instead of answering, he took her hand and led her outside. “Look,” he said and pointed to the sea.

She did. “I don’t see anything.”

“Look closer.”

Off the bow, gleaming black cormorants rode the swells, there one second, gone the next, then silently surfacing again with a silver flash of fish that disappeared in a quick swallow. A sea lion surfaced behind them and rolled to his side, his flipper stuck in the air as if waving.

“They do that for temperature control,” Matt said. “The way elephants use their ears.”

He moved behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, gently turned her to the left, then leaned forward and grabbed the rail on either side of her. “Do you see the white fishing boat out there?”

She nodded, acutely aware of his body pressing against hers. She glanced at his hands, at the way they held the railing, at the way the muscles moved on his forearms. For an insane instant she imagined his hands touching her, felt their power as he cupped her face and gazed into her eyes.

“Look just to the right and keep watching.”

“What am I–”

“Don’t talk, just look.”

She did, afraid to blink for fear of missing something. And then she saw what Matt had seen before her. It took her breath away. A blue whale surfaced to exhale, just once, leaving a spout of warmed mist in the air, before diving again. They were too far away to see the animal distinctly, but that didn’t matter. Just knowing a whale was near, swimming in the same water that held their boat, filled her with awe. She was speechless with a yearning she didn’t understand.

“I do what I do,” he said softly and as a simple matter of fact, “because I see these things, and I don’t know how to stop working to protect them.”

  O
N THEIR WAY BACK FROM MOSS LAND
ing the traffic on Highway 1 slowed to a crawl, then stopped for minutes at a time. Kelly glanced at the dashboard clock. It was going to be seven or later by the time Matt dropped her off. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”

“Did you want to stop somewhere?”

Knowing it was a mistake, she said, “I was thinking more along the lines of a home cooked meal–to thank you for today,” she quickly added.

“If you did that, then I would just have to take you out again tomorrow to thank you for the home-cooked meal and you would feel you had to cook again and the next day …” He looked at her and grinned. “Who knows where it would end?”

“You can’t take me out tomorrow, you’re teaching a class.”

“Well, I guess we’re safe then. I have to warn you, though, I’m a vegetarian.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Think you can handle it?”

“You are looking at a woman knee deep in vegetables. Since I’ve been here, I can’t seem to drive past a fruit-and-vegetable stand. I don’t think there’s one I’ve spotted that I haven’t stopped and bought something.”

“Then all we’re missing is bread and wine.”

“Got ‘em.”

“Where have you been all my life?”

“San Diego.”

He laughed. “Are all lawyers so literal?”

“I would think you’d have a pretty good idea of what lawyers are and aren’t by now.”

“I’m constantly being surprised.” The cars in front of them started moving again. “That’s another thing that gets me out of bed in the morning.”

They traveled the next mile without either of them saying anything. Finally, Kelly broke the silence. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“You came with preconceived ideas?” he gently chided.

“I’d heard a lot about you.”

“From?”

“Other lawyers.”

“And you expected a frothing-at-the-mouth, hard-nosed, humorless, son-of-a-bitch fanatic.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Well, maybe not frothing at the mouth.” He laughed again, and she realized it was what she’d been after. When he smiled, one corner of his mouth rose higher than the other, his eyes crinkled, and a single dimple appeared high on his left cheek. She found it almost impossible not to smile in return.

As soon as they cleared the forest and turned onto the beach road, Kelly spotted a strange car in her driveway, a candy apple red Mustang, the kind lusted after by men who believed in beer commercials.

“Looks like you have company,” Matt said.

“It’s probably a neighbor using the driveway. You and Andrew are the only people I know here.”

“Or someone using the beach who didn’t know the house has been rented and was afraid to get caught parking on the road.”

The road was posted with
“NO PARKING”
signs from the public parking lot at the state park to the last house on the beach. While the promised fines protected the homeowners from being overwhelmed by cars, most had been forced to widen their driveways to accommodate visitors. According to Andrew, cars frequently spilled over to neighbors’ houses when someone was having a party.

The question was answered as soon as Matt pulled into Andrew’s driveway and Ray looked out from behind Kelly’s house to investigate.

“Oh, no,” she groaned.

“You know this guy, I take it?” Matt said.

“Regrettably.” She opened her car door.

Matt got out and joined her.

Ray stood his ground and waited for her to come to him. “I thought I would surprise you,” he said. “I can see that I have.”

“Ray Sperling–Matt Landry,” she said.

They shook hands, Matt with good humor, Ray with a scowl.

“What are you doing here, Ray?” Kelly asked.

He looked at Matt before turning his attention to her. “Could we talk about this inside? In private?”

“I’ve invited Matt to dinner.”

“This is important, Kelly,” Ray said.

“Why don’t we make it another night?” Matt offered.

He wasn’t backing away, he was simply making it easier for her, letting her make the decision. “Thank you.”

He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Anytime.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” She left Ray standing in the middle of the road, his hands on his hips, his posture possessive.

Matt opened the car door and paused before getting inside. “Old boyfriend?”

“Yes … but not so old. I broke up with him two days ago. Obviously he didn’t believe I was serious.”

“Are you okay with this? Do you want me to stick around?”

She looked at his mouth, at the soft shadow of a beard on his chin and above his top lip, and without stopping to consider the consequences, told him exactly what she wanted. “Kiss me.”

He only hesitated a second before he put his hand on the back of her neck and brought her forward for what must have looked like a searingly deep kiss to Ray. When she realized he had no intention of giving her the kiss she wanted, she opened her mouth and touched her tongue to his. He responded immediately, taking the lead, tasting, testing, sending a shot of liquid fire from her lips to her toes.

It was more than she’d bargained for, more than she expected, and less than she wanted.

“Will that do it?” Matt asked.

“For now,” she said.

He glanced over her shoulder. “I think you got what you were after.”

She started to turn and look, then thought better of it. “What do you mean?”

“Once he gets past the strutting jealousy part, he’ll be putty in your hands.”

She frowned, confused. And then it hit her, she hadn’t kissed Matt to make Ray jealous, she’d done it to show him that she’d moved on. But that wasn’t the way Matt had seen it. He had no way of knowing that with Ray actions spoke louder than words. Embarrassed beyond words of explanation, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved you in this.”

He lowered his head and tucked his hand under her chin to force her to look at him. “Hey, what are friends for?”

“Not this.” She’d used him, and she didn’t like people who used people. She was losing control of everything–her life, her beliefs, her honor. “I’m glad Ray saw us together–but I kissed you because I wanted to.”

“Good luck.” He got in the car and rolled down the window. “I’ll see you in class.”

He didn’t believe her. She nodded and watched him drive away, feeling as if she’d lost something it would be impossible to regain.

“That was quite a show.” Ray jammed his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Why are you here?” She was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired, her lack of sleep and the emotional roller coaster ride she was on putting her near the edge of civility.

“Can we go inside?”

She walked past him, cutting through the garden instead of taking the brick pathway that ran in front of the house. He backtracked the way he had come and met her at the front door.

As soon as she rounded the corner she understood Ray’s insistence on going inside. He wanted her to see the flowers and Godiva chocolate that were sitting on the porch, believing they would do most of his work for him. She unlocked the door and stepped over the elaborate presentation bouquet as if it were a nuisance.

Obviously annoyed at her casual dismissal of his gifts, Ray brought them inside and tried to hand her the candy. “They’re your favorites,” he said accusingly.

“Not anymore.”

“Since when?”

“I’ve switched–” For the life of her she couldn’t come up with another brand of chocolates. “To cinnamon rolls.”

He tossed the box on a chair, looked at the flowers, and tossed them there, too. “All right, I’ll give you this one. Just tell me what it’s going to take to make things right between us, and I’ll do it.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t you think you’re carrying this a little too far? I said I was sorry, why can’t you–”

She held up her hand. “Hold on just a minute. I must have missed something. Exactly when was it that you said you were sorry?”

He motioned toward the candy and flowers. “What do you call this?”

“A bribe.”

He flushed an unattractive red that left splotches on his cheeks. Before saying anything, he made an elaborate bow. “I’m sorry.” Upright again, he glared at her. “Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to be left alone.” She kicked off her shoes, sat in the corner of the sofa, and pulled her legs up against her chest. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Ray. You don’t love me. You never really did. We had fun for a while, then it stopped being fun. Once word gets out that you’re free again, you’ll have women crawling over each other to get to you.”

“I don’t want other women. I want you.”

If he’d shown half this much passion when they were together, it would have been twice as hard to leave. “You’ve always said you thought Dara was–”

Stunned, he looked as if she’d slapped him. “How do you know about Dara? Who told you? It was Donna, wasn’t it? She’s always butting into things that aren’t any of her business.”

How could she have been so stupid? All the signs were there, she’d just refused to see them. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything,” she said evenly. “I was about to suggest you might want to go out with Dara now that you’re free.”

“Nothing happened between us. We went out a couple of times, but that was it.”

“I don’t care.” Amazingly, she didn’t. “Now you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, and not worry about who might see you. It’s called freedom, Ray. And I’m giving it to you. Now be grateful and get out of here and leave me alone.”

For what seemed an eternity, he stood in the middle of the room and stared at her, his eyes betraying his inner conflict. Finally, he moved toward her and went down on bended knee. “I wanted to save this for later, but you’ve forced my hand.”

Ray dug in his pocket and brought out a small velvet box. Before she could say anything, he opened the box, and presented it to her. “You win, Kelly. I knew this was what you were after, but I didn’t think I was ready. I do now.”

Kelly looked at the diamond solitaire ring, the stone large enough to be noticed but within the bounds of good taste. Knowing that only days ago she probably would have accepted his insulting proposal horrified her. She tried to give the ring back to him. “I can’t take this.”

He held his hands up and backed away. “This is getting a little old, Kelly. I understand you’re angry and that you were trying to get back at me for some wrong you think I’ve done, but this has gone on long enough. I made a mistake. You’ve made more than your share since we started going together, and I’ve always forgiven you. Is it so wrong to expect the same in return?”

Finally she understood. In his own way, Ray really did love her. Did she have the right to blame him if it wasn’t the way she wanted to be loved? She unfolded her legs and reached out to take his hand. “Timing really is everything, Ray. From the beginning we’ve been off step with each other. When I wanted you to make a commitment, Dara got in the way. And now–”

“Don’t tell me you feel something for that guy you were with. You can’t have known him more than a couple of days.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes.” She didn’t care that she was letting him believe something that wasn’t true. Ray needed sound reasons for their breakup and nothing was more sound than her finding someone new. “My mother and father knew from the moment they met that they were destined to be together.”

“Give me a break, Kelly. Love doesn’t happen like that. Not real love. Odds are if your mother had lived, she and your father would be divorced and they would be with other people today.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Oh, grow up.” He flung her hand away. “Look at the statistics. Forever is a greeting card fantasy.”

“Then what is it you’re asking me? You want us to be married–for a while? Until you get bored or someone better comes along?”

“No, of course not. I’m just being realistic. If we go into this without illusions, and it works out better than we thought, think what a coup that will be. We’ve put too much time into this relationship to just toss it away now.”

A sadness enveloped her. “Better now than later, Ray. When I finally do get married–if I ever get married–I want to believe with all my heart that it will last a lifetime. Without that I’d rather be alone.”

“Even if it’s an illusion?”

“Yes, even then.”

“I can’t give you that,” he said. “I can’t even pretend it’s possible.”

He gave Kelly a lopsided grin filled with irony and mischief, reminding her what had drawn her to him in the first place. “My guess is you wouldn’t have gone for the prenuptial agreement I was going to have drawn up either.”

He walked over to the chair and picked up the flowers. “These need to be put in water. No sense letting them go to waste.”

“I’ll take care of them.”

“About the chocolate …”

She exchanged the box for the flowers. “Take it. I know Godiva’s your favorite.”

She walked him out to the car. “Do you have something going with that Matt guy?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. Whether she wanted to have something going with him was another matter.

“He’s not your type, you know. You don’t want to rebound from us and end up with someone like him. It will never work.” He leaned over to give her a kiss good-bye. Their lips touched and it was over. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.” For one brief moment she felt a twinkling of hope that they might find a way to be friends.

He paused as he started to get into the car. “God, Kelly, I feel so sorry for you. Someday you’re going to look back on this and know it was the biggest mistake you ever made. What I offered might not have lasted, but it was the best chance you’re going to get. Ask your girlfriends. There aren’t a whole lot of men like me out there.”

“Thanks, Ray. You will never know how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

He nodded, missing the point entirely.

She watched him drive away, noting that he waited until he reached the end of the road to stop and open the box of chocolates.

She was free. No guilt, no regrets, no sorrow. Maybe a little numb, but nothing that wouldn’t be gone by morning.