Home > Books > The Kind Worth Saving (Henry Kimball/Lily Kintner, #2)(23)

The Kind Worth Saving (Henry Kimball/Lily Kintner, #2)(23)

Author:Peter Swanson

Richard looked where she was indicating, a massive block of granite that looked as though it had tumbled from the top of the jetty and landed so that it was leaning diagonally on one end. Being careful on the slick rocks, Richard took a closer look. “I could stand behind it,” he said. “There’s actually a piece of metal bar that I could hold on to.”

Joan looked too. There wasn’t a lot of space between the tumbled piece of granite and the edge of the jetty, but there was just enough for Richard to crouch and hide. And it was high tide now—they’d checked just to make sure—so they wouldn’t be surprised to find that the end of the jetty was totally submerged when Joan arrived with Duane.

“It’s perfect,” Joan said. “Look at this rock here, a little higher than the one next to it. I’ll stand on the rock and tell Duane to stand right there, and I’ll tell him I want to look him in the eye. He’ll know that I want him to kiss me. Then his back will be to you, and you can just grab him and hurl him over the edge. Or better yet,” she said, now standing on the higher rock, the spray from the waves making her hair damp, “you can crouch behind him and I can push him. He’ll fall straight back, and probably hit his head.”

Richard studied the area, looking at the rock where Duane would be standing. “No,” he said. “I want to be the one to push him off the edge. You just get him here, and I’ll do the rest.”

“Okay,” Joan said. “When do we do this?”

“That’s up to you. Tomorrow night, or the night after. Just so long as the weather is clear like it is now and you can see where you’re stepping.”

“How should I let you know we’ll be out here?”

“I’ll probably know because Duane will tell me all about it, but just to be sure . . . give me a signal in the dining room if you’re planning on going out that night with him.”

Joan thought. “Okay, if it’s going to be that night then I’ll have my hair back in a ponytail. If it’s not going to happen then my hair will be down.”

“Okay,” Richard said.

“You got it?”

“Ponytail is go. I got it.”

“And I’ll tell Duane that I’ll meet him at ten o’clock, so make sure you’re already out here waiting.”

“That sounds good,” Richard said.

She couldn’t see his face where he was standing, but his voice sounded calm, as though they were talking about meeting for coffee, or something. She said, “It’s a plan, then.”

“It’s a plan.”

Together they’d walked back along the jetty. A few clouds had begun to move across the sky, and there were moments of complete darkness. Richard reached out and took her hand to help her over one of the larger gaps. They held hands until the clouds moved away and the moonlight was back, draping everything in its silver light.

“It’s kind of terrifying and amazing at the same time,” Joan said to Duane at the beach. He was now on his side, cocked up on one elbow.

“Who did you go with?”

“My sister, and I did it like the first night we were here.”

“Could you see where you were stepping?”

“Totally. The moon was out. It was fine. Sounds like you’re maybe too scared to go.”

“No,” Duane said. “I just don’t want you to fall into the ocean and then I’d have to jump in and save you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Joan said. “Is that what’s going to happen?” She was on her side now and checked the positioning on her bikini top to make sure she wasn’t exposing herself. She’d been catching Duane trying to secretly look at her body the whole time they’d been at the beach together. He’d found her reading Pet Semetary, and asked if he could join her. She told him he could if he didn’t mind putting some lotion on her back where she couldn’t reach.

“Hey, if you want to go to the end of the jetty at night, then let’s do it. It sounds pretty cool.”

“You have no idea,” Joan said. “Trust me.”

Joan got up and stood on her towel, looming over Duane, and told him she was going to go back to the hotel, find out what her family was doing for lunch.

“If you want, we could go hang out at the pool at the rental house where Emily and Anne are staying this afternoon. Their parents are sometimes around, but not always.”

“No, I’m good,” Joan said. “Let’s plan on meeting at the jetty at ten tonight. Don’t pussy out on me, okay?” It was an expression she’d never said before but had heard many times.

Duane said, “Ha, ha.”

“See ya,” Joan said, and made her way up over the dune with her towel rolled and tucked under an arm. Back on the grounds of the Windward she stood under the outdoor shower and got all the sand off her legs and from between her toes. Across the sloping lawn she could see her sister, Lizzie, sitting in the gazebo with her new friend Denise. Even at that distance she could tell they were having some kind of intense conversation, Lizzie gesturing with her hands and at one point wiping at one of her eyes. She wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like to be her sister, to feel everything so intensely, to let someone like Denise affect you so much you would cry. She felt a surge of pity and disgust.

Entering the hotel lobby, Joan saw Jessica, normally behind the front desk, setting out chairs in the alcove where the piano was located. Joan walked over and said, “Hey.”

“Oh, hi,” Jessica said.

“What’s going on?”

“‘Afternoon Oldies,’” she said. “Every Saturday afternoon in July and August. This old guy, Mac Kierney, comes in and sings Frank Sinatra songs and things like that. He’s friends with Frank, the owner, but he draws a serious crowd.”

Joan didn’t know if Jessica was joking or not, and said, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a scene. You should save your front-row seat now.”

“Maybe I’ll pass.”

“Your tan’s looking pretty good,” Jessica said.

“Thanks. My mom is convinced I’ll get cancer.”

Jessica was looking at the row of chairs she’d just set out, and said, “Does that look straight to you?”

Joan altered a few of them until they lined up properly. “Sorry,” Jessica said. “Didn’t mean to put you to work.”

“It’s okay. I have no idea what I’m going to do all afternoon, anyway. I’m sick of the beach. I wish I was working here, like you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to get a job and make some money.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . . Remember when you pointed out that guy Duane to me, and then you called him a creep?”

“Yeah.” Jessica made a face, pulling down one side of her mouth. “Avoid him at all costs.”

“What did he do to you?”

“Why? Are you, like, hanging out with him now?”

“No, not really, but I’ve talked to him a few times, and I had a beer down at the beach with him two nights ago. Him and Derek—”

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