He laughed, checked to be sure May was not standing too close to the jeep, then shifted the gears and pulled away. Cary, May, and I watched him and Ulysses disappear around the turn, Ulysses facing us all the way, looking like a small child who wished he could stay with his friends.
"Was he kidding about the boat?" Cary asked.
"It's the first time I've heard him mention it, Cary. But he's full of surprises and secrets, no different from anyone else around here."
Cary nodded, the soap suds dripping off his forearm.
"Need some help?" I asked.
"No, we're just about finished. May and I will just dry her off" He signed instructions and May returned to the pail and sponge.
"I have to shower," I said. "I'm full of marble dust." I started toward the house.
"How about a quick dip instead?" Cary suggested. "Just throw on your suit and we'll go down to the beach."
"Then I'll have to wash the salt out of my hair before I sit down at the dinner table," I complained.
"Women," he said, groaning.
"Why don't we go after dinner--a night swim," I suggested. His eyes brightened.
"Really? Great." He looked at May. "Ma doesn't like her swimming at night so--"
"We'll bring her tomorrow." I said, hoping that May wouldn't mind.
"Okay. I'll find something for her to do while we're gone, so she won't feel left out," he said and returned to the truck.
Cary was right about Uncle Jacob. He was in a rare happy mood, actually buoyant. He didn't apologize for the way he had yelled at me the night before, but his tone of voice was softer when he asked me to pass him things at the dinner table and when he thanked me. Also, whenever he spoke, he actually spoke to me, rather than around me. Apparently, today's catch was as good as they used to be. It was like striking gold.
The happiness in Aunt Sara's face made her eyes younger as well as brighter. It was nice to hear her laugh, and even to hear Uncle Jacob laugh. As I gazed at them, all full of smiles, everyone treating everyone politely, considerately, the food as wonderful as ever, the cranberry wine sparkling in the glasses, I was able to envision this family before Laura's tragedy and I was able to see what Cary had described. Even if it were destined to be short lived, the joviality warmed my heart and made me feel I was part of a real family again. There was no better music to drive away the shadows than the sound of laughter.
Suddenly, as the meal was coming to an end, Uncle Jacob leaned on his elbows toward me, his eyes dark and fixed, his smile gone.
"What say you earn your supper tonight, Missy?" he said. I glanced at Cary, who shrugged, and then at Aunt Sara, whose mouth hung open.
"How?" I asked.
"You know, like people did in olden times. Found a way to pay for their dinner."
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my throat tightening, my voice hardening.
He slapped his hands together.
"We'll all adjourn to the living room and have a private concert. What do you say, Sara? Can you let these dishes wait?"
"You mean, you want me to play my fiddle?" I asked, astounded.
"It's somethin' you do real good," he replied. Cary was beaming like the cat that had gotten to the fish on the counter in the kitchen.
"I--" I gazed at Aunt Sara. She'd never looked happier. For a moment I felt as if I had sat at the dinner table in the wrong house.
"Well?" Uncle Jacob pursued.
> "Okay," I said, still amazed at his request.
"Then it's settled," he said slapping his hands together and standing. "Mrs. Logan?" He held out his arm and Aunt Sara giggled and joined him. "We'll adjourn to the sitting room for a private concert," he said and held his other arm out for May. Cary had signed a quick summary of what was happening. She leaped to her feet and took her father's arm.
"What's going on?" I asked Cary as we watched them leave the room.