The Rum Runner Page 7

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Mama poured herself a cup from the percolator and poured one for Alice as well, adding a touch of cream and a spoonful of sugar to both. “So tell me about last night. Did Marty meet the man she was so keen to see again?”

  “She did. His name is Douglas Chapman. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him, but she spent the evening dancing with him. And he escorted her home.” Perhaps Marty would prefer to keep that part from their mother, but Alice wasn’t going to be a party to deceptions.

  “I thought I heard you come home at different times.” Her mother slipped her feet out of her shoes and put her feet up on the chair opposite her. “Does he seem like a decent sort?”

  “Hard to tell. He certainly looks dapper in white tie. I can tell you that much.”

  “A looker, huh?”

  “Would you expect Marty to go for anything less?”

  “No.” Mama sighed. “And that’s why I worry. I don’t want her head turned by a pretty face. I want her to find happiness with a whole person.”

  Alice flicked a couple of drops of water in the skillet to see if it was hot. The water sizzled away so she spooned some pancake mix in. “Marty’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

  “That’s right, I do.” Marty breezed into the kitchen, looking as fresh and bright as the spring morning outside. “Why are we discussing my head? Wait!” She headed straight for the percolator. “Let me guess. You gossiping hens are talking about the man I danced with last night.”

  There was no censure in her voice. Marty was used to being discussed and never appeared to take any offense at it. She was secure in the position of the well-loved, nearly spoiled, youngest child. Marty dropped two lumps of sugar in her coffee and gave Mama a kiss on the cheek. “You don’t need Alice to tell you about Douglas. I can tell you everything you need to know. Of course, then Alice will have to tell you about the handsome man she spent the night dancing with.”

  Alice’s cheeks flushed as she checked the pancakes. The tops were dimpled, and she could see the edges starting to darken.

  “You first,” she said and flipped the pancakes over.

  “I rather want to hear about your evening,” Mama said, humor in her tone. “I often hear about Marty’s romantic conquests, not so much about yours.”

  “There was no romantic conquest,” Alice insisted. “I’ll tell you everything, after Marty tells us about Douglas. After all, you notice, Douglas brought her home. I came home with Mark and Trudy.”

  Marty apparently had no problem with that arrangement. She sat at the table, her face aglow. “Well, his name is Douglas Chapman. He’s twenty-five and his father owns a fleet of fishing boats. They live on Cliff Road out near Boynton Beach. He went to Rutgers and thought about training as a lawyer, but right now he’s running the business for his father, who is semi-retired. Soon his father will retire completely, and he’ll be in charge.”

  “Well, that’s his resume laid out quite nicely,” Mama said, smiling at her over the top of her coffee cup. “Now tell us about the man.”

  Alice chuckled to herself as she dished up the first batch of pancakes and put the platter on the table. “Get plates and the syrup, won’t you, Marty?”

  Marty did as she was told, and Alice poured more batter into the pan.

  “He’s charming.” Marty picked up her narrative. “And dashing and handsome and a fantastic dancer. He walked me home, and the distance has never gone so quickly. I could have walked a million miles with him, just talking, my hand in his.”

  Alice rolled her eyes. Marty, ever the romantic.

  “He’s taking me boating this afternoon and then out for dinner tonight.”

  “He moves fast,” Mama commented, and Alice thought she detected a hint of disapproval in her tone.

  “Don’t worry, Mama. He’s a perfect gentleman.” Marty poured a generous helping of syrup over her pancakes. “I’ll have him come in and meet you before we go out. Don’t worry. I’m not trying to slide anything past you.” Alice set the next batch of pancakes on the table and poured in more batter.

  “Sit and eat,” Mama said to her. “And tell us about your dancing partner.”

  Alice sat and put a couple of pancakes on her plate. “I don’t know nearly as much about him as Marty knows about Douglas, and I certainly do not have plans with him for today.”

  “Don’t tell us what you don’t know or what you’re not doing,” Marty scolded. “Tell us about last night.”

  Alice felt her cheeks flush again at the unexpected attention. She didn’t mind at all having a special evening to talk about. “He’s actually Douglas’s brother. His name is Henry, but he goes by Hank. I don’t know how old he is, we didn’t get that deep in our conversation.” Though, she did remember telling him she was twenty-seven. Why on earth had she volunteered that information? And why hadn’t she insisted he share in return? Oh, well, live and learn. “He’s a fisherman. I suppose he works for his father.” Some of this she knew from the afternoon, not from any conversation they’d had last night. “He’s a good dancer.”

  And that was pretty much all she could say about that. She hopped up to flip the pancakes before they burned.

  “That’s it?” Marty and Mama asked at the same time.

  “That’s it,” she insisted. No point in telling them about her fairy tale romance fantasies. Especially when they were nothing but fantasies. “He was fun to dance with, but it’s not the start of a big romance, it was just a fun evening.” She sat back down, and Mama patted her hand.

  “Nothing wrong with a fun evening now and then.”

  Alice thought so too. She picked up her coffee and thought of those clear blue eyes. She wondered if she’d ever have the chance to gaze in them again. Not that it mattered, but she wouldn’t mind.

  “It’s a beautiful day for gardening,” Mama said as Alice and Marty cleaned up the kitchen. She was right, the sky was clear and blue, there was a light breeze, the perennials in the garden were bursting into leaf, and the vegetable seedlings on the back porch were big enough to transplant.

  “I can’t help, Mama,” Marty said. “I have to get ready for my date.”

  “I think you can spend some time helping us. I’ve been boating in my day, and I found it doesn’t take that long to dress for such an activity.”

  Marty pouted but got over it quickly, and soon the three of them were out back, straw hats shading their faces from the sun, gardening gloves protecting their hands. Alice hoed the weeds out of the vegetable garden, which they had turned over the week before. Marty pulled up the weeds that were making themselves known in the flower bed. Mama supervised and planned where the various vegetables would be planted.

  They weren’t even half done when the sun shone bright overhead and Mama declared it was time to take a break. “You two go sit on the front porch in the shade and I’ll bring you some lemonade. Then we’ll worry about lunch.”

  Alice wasn’t about to turn down that offer. She shucked her gloves and hat and stamped her feet to loosen any dirt clinging to the soles before heading to the front porch. She settled gratefully into the porch swing and let the cool breeze wash over her.

  “Hey!” Marty said, sitting beside her. “Isn’t that the fellow you were dancing with last night?”

  Alice opened her eyes and saw Hank Chapman escorting Irene Nagy up the steps to the funeral home across the street. A strange pang, one she refused to acknowledge as jealousy, stabbed her heart. She had no claim on him. None at all. He’d promised to bring the widow to the funeral home to help her make arrangements. That was exactly what he was doing. So why did she feel bereft as she watched him guide Mrs. Nagy with a gentle touch to the elbow? Maybe it was because she could remember his touch as they danced.

  Being jealous of someone who was making arrangements to bury her husband was a ludicrous reaction.

  “Is it him?” Marty asked again.

  “It is,” Alice answered as Mama brought out a tray with three tall glasses of le
monade, their sides already beading with condensation.

  “What’s he doing going into Greiner’s? Who’s the lady he’s with?” Marty wasn’t going to stop asking questions until she got answers.

  They each took their lemonade and Mama settled into her rocking chair. “Who is going into Greiner’s?”

  “The man Alice was dancing with last night,” Marty answered. “Is he married? Is that his wife?”

  Oh, for goodness’ sake.

  “It’s not his wife. That’s Irene Nagy. Her husband was killed yesterday, if you must know, and Hank knew him, so he volunteered to take her to the funeral home this morning. I had offered, but she preferred to go with a friend.”

  “You seem to know a whole lot more about him than you told us at breakfast,” Marty said, sounding distinctly disapproving.

  Alice sighed. “I met him at the Nagys’ house yesterday, when I went there to tell her that her husband had died.”

  “Wait,” Mama said, suddenly realizing what they were saying. “Tomas Nagy died? What happened?”

  “You know him?”

  “I made some dresses for his wife a while back. He came by to pay me one afternoon. He was a charming fellow. Very European.” Mama set her glass down on a small iron table. “So tell me what happened to him.”

  “He was shot. It looks like murder. Mark is investigating.”

  “How horrible!” Mama’s reaction was genuine. “That poor woman. And I seem to remember her mentioning children.”

  “Three small ones, yes.”

  “We’ll have to do something for them. I can bake her a casserole or a cake. Maybe a cake is better. Children like cake, and they need to eat and keep up their energy in the days ahead.”

  “So your man is gentle and compassionate as well as a looker and a good dancer.” Marty gave her a significant look.

  “He’s helping a friend,” Alice said. “And he’s not my man. He just didn’t have anyone else to dance with last night.”

  Marty nodded as if she didn’t quite believe her. In the meantime, Mama was lost in thoughts of what foods she could prepare for the poor Nagy family.

  They’d cleaned themselves of garden grime and sweat and had a refreshing lunch, when Douglas Chapman came by to pick up Marty for their outing.

  He bowed slightly to Mama. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Grady. To let you know our plans, so you don’t worry, I have a small runabout that I keep at the marina near Boynton Beach. I plan to take Martha up toward the city, perhaps around the Statue of Liberty. We won’t be going out in the open ocean.” He seemed to notice Alice, standing in the background, for the first time. “Would you like to come as well?”

  Marty shot her a panicked look, and whereas a day out on the water would be lovely, Alice was certainly not going to horn in on her sister’s romantic outing.

  “I couldn’t possibly,” she answered. “Though it is very kind of you to ask.”

  After a few more pleasantries, the young couple were on their way. “I think I’ll start on that cake for the Nagys,” Mama said. “Why don’t you go over and visit with Trudy?”

  “Trying to get me out from underfoot?” Alice grinned at her.

  “Trying to make sure you enjoy life,” Mama answered. Alice wrinkled her nose at her. She enjoyed life. She enjoyed sitting on the swing on the front porch with a glass of lemonade and a good book. She enjoyed relaxing with a piece of needlework or a crossword puzzle. They might not be vigorous enjoyments, but they gave her pleasure.

  Still, no one had to tell her twice to take the afternoon off and relax. She walked through her garden gate, into Trudy’s backyard. Having them live behind her was a huge convenience when they wanted to spend time together. She opened the back door without bothering to knock.

  “Hello,” she called out as she entered the kitchen.

  Five-year-old Dorothy nearly collided with her as she ran through the kitchen. “Aunt Alice! Aunt Alice! Will you make me more paper dolls?”

  “Sure sweetie. Where’s Mama?”

  “Trying to get John to use the potty. He doesn’t like it.”

  The ongoing battle to get John toilet-trained. Alice knew it was driving Trudy to distraction, especially since her older two seemed to practically train overnight. Dorothy knew how to take advantage of a good thing, though, and brought the Sears catalog over to Alice so she could cut it up to make dolls.

  “Oh, I don’t know if we should use this one. It just came!” Alice said, taking the glossy magazine from the little girl. She looked wistfully at the cover picture of a mother and daughter admiring a dress as they took it out of a box. Pleasant domestic scenes usually didn’t stir a reaction in her. Why today?

  “Papa says to. He told me to cut it up so Mama couldn’t buy anything from it.”

  She was definitely not getting in the middle of that.

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we make our own clothes for some dolls? Get your crayons.”

  So while she waited for Trudy to come back downstairs, Alice drew outlines of dresses for Dorothy to color in.

  “Look, this one is pink, like the dress you wore last night. You were pretty last night.” Dorothy said with a happy sigh.

  “Thank you. You were looking quite fetching yourself.”

  Dorothy laughed. “I was wearing play clothes. You can’t look pretty in play clothes.”

  “Who says?”

  Little John ran into the kitchen just then, his shirt tails flapping against his bare bottom.

  “John!” Trudy called as she clattered down the stairs. “Where did you get to? You forgot your pants!”

  “He’s in here!” Alice answered.

  “Oh, Alice! I didn’t know you were here. I was…”

  “I know, Dorothy told me.”

  “Did you go, Johnny?” Dorothy was asking in her big-sister sing-song voice. “Did you go on the potty?”

  “Big plop!” he said with satisfaction.

  Trudy nabbed him and wrestled him into underwear and pants. “Welcome to my life,” she said. “I know what it is, you come over here whenever you start thinking you are missing out on something by not having a family, and a few minutes with us cures you altogether.”

  “Not at all. I’d be delighted to have a family just like yours, if that was the path my life was taking.” She took another glance at the happy mother and daughter on the cover of the catalog. How had she ended up on a path that would keep her from having her own family? Was that the path she really wanted to be on? And what about dancing with Hank last night made these thoughts keep coming into her mind?

  Trudy handed her John. “Here, practice on this one.”

  Alice took him, but he wanted no part of being held and he squirmed to get down. She obliged him.

  “Dorothy, take your brother out back and play with him. Give your poor mama a moment of peace.”

  “Come on, Johnny,” Dorothy said, taking her brother obediently by the hand. “Let’s go make mud pies.”

  Trudy rolled her eyes heavenward. “Lord help us,” she muttered. She opened the icebox and took out a pitcher of lemonade and poured some into two tall glasses. Then she gestured to a seat at the kitchen table before handing one of the glasses to Alice. “So tell me about this man you danced with last night.” She said as she settled into a seat, stretching her legs out in front of her.

  “There’s not much to tell. His brother was dancing with Marty.”

  “Oh, Marty’s young man!” Trudy gave an approving nod. “What a handsome and charming fellow he is. She could do a lot worse than him, let me tell you.”

  “She’s out on his boat with him right now, and then he’s taking her to dinner.”

  “Wouldn’t it be something if it developed into a real romance? We need a real romance around here.”

  “What about you and Mark? Aren’t you a romance story?”

  “With three wildcats running around? It’s a wonder we ever have a chance to have a conversation. Sometimes we don’t. But everyone tell
s me the years go by quickly.” She sighed. “Anyway. I want to hear about the man you were dancing with.”

  “His name is Henry, but he goes by Hank. He’s a fisherman. He’s a good dancer.” She shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t know much more than that. “We didn’t actually spend a lot of time talking. Mostly just dancing.”

  “But you’ll see him again, get to know him better?” Trudy asked hopefully. Alice was convinced that one of Trudy’s life goals was to see her happily married. She wouldn’t believe her when she told her she was perfectly happy unmarried. Well, maybe perfectly would be overstating the case a little.

  “I doubt it. He hightailed it out of the club pretty quickly last night. It was fun while it lasted, but there’s nothing more to it.”

  Trudy studied her face closely. Alice tried to hide behind her lemonade glass, but it didn’t work.

  “You liked him,” Trudy announced triumphantly.

  “Of course I liked him,” Alice scoffed. “What’s not to like? But that hardly changes the fact that I’m not likely to see him again. He didn’t seem terribly interested in continuing our acquaintance.”

  “But you will see him again,” Trudy said.

  Alice frowned at her, what did Trudy know that she didn’t? “When?”

  “I can’t say for certain what date,” Trudy said. “I’m not a fortune teller. But if Marty and Douglas get married, then you’ll have to see him at family gatherings. Or at least at the wedding. You’ll probably both be witnesses.”

  Alice laughed. “You’re really putting the cart before the horse now, Trudy. They’ve just left on their first date and already you’re marrying them off. Do you have a dress picked out for her as well?”

  “No,” Trudy admitted. “But I did see one in the Sears catalog that would be perfect for you.”

  “Let Dorothy use it for her paper dolls. I won’t be needing it,” Alice assured her, though in her mind’s eye she caught a glimpse of herself in white, walking down the aisle to meet Henry. She shook her head to dispel the image. Trudy had to stop putting these crazy romantic notions in her head.

  There was no romance with Hank Chapman, and there was not likely to ever be one.