Chapter 33
Despite his resolution, Ennis was uncertain how to approach David. The store didn’t seem a suitable place and he couldn’t be sure if they’d get much time alone. And he shrank inwardly from walking up the stairs to the door of the beach house and knocking. As often as he recalled David telling him he was welcome “anytime you wanna come back”, he knew that if David had changed his mind since then and turned him down, he would have to walk back down the stairway knowing he would not return.
For the next few days he drove through Grandma’s parking lot in the late afternoon, hoping to see David’s car and hoping with equal fervor that Maggie wouldn’t happen to leave, or be at a window, at that moment and see him. He felt more than a little foolish and wondered how he would have managed had he ever journeyed to Childress to see Jack.
“Ennis, I'll need you to be around this evening,” Jerry told him on Wednesday. The couple in Ennis' riding class had looked at a few of the horses for lease and wanted to try out them out on the trail. “They're good prospects, I want both of us riding with 'em. They'll be here about seven, plenty of daylight left for a ride but we'll need the horses saddled and ready to go.” “I'll be here by six,” Ennis told him. Enough time ta check Grandma's again, he thought; and this time David's car was parked at the edge of the crowded parking lot.
For several minutes he sat in the truck, struggling to keep his resolve, and finally made his left hand open the door; you plannin ta sit here all night and get fired? Or, more likely, until David left and saw him. Or even worse, drove off without even knowing he was there.
He paused just inside the door, looking through the crowd of after-work merrymakers for David, and Maggie suddenly appeared in front of him. Her “Haven't seen you lately. You here to eat dinner?” was uncharacteristically cool and polite.
“No, I'm lookin for David, and I've only got a few minutes.”
He'd never seen her angry and wasn't doing so now; but her reddish eyebrows were lowered to a straight line and her skin seemed stretched more tightly across her cheekbones and her wide mouth was set in an obdurate look. “Ennis, please don't do this. If you're here just to say hi and then run off again --”
"I don't. I just need ta ask him somethin, but it's important.”
She looked at him in silence for a few moments, still blocking his path; and if he'd been a little more worldly she might have reminded him of an autocratic concierge or receptionist. “I like you, Ennis. I do. But David and me, we go way back and we've always been there for each other, and I know how much this on again, off again business took out of him. The last thing he needs is all that startin up again.”
He was getting impatient but knew he couldn't just push her out of his way. “He told me all about that, Maggie, and I ain't runnin off anywhere. It's just somethin at work I need ta get back for.”
She sighed. “I’ll hafta take your word for that, I guess, it’s not like I can throw you out. Over there at the end of the bar.”
David was alone with a half-empty glass of beer in front of him, apparently too far away to have heard. “Thanks Maggie.” Ennis hesitated a moment. “How’s he been?”
“Just cheerful,” was all she said and he felt a slight coil of pain, remembering her remark before. When he was halfway to the bar, David turned his head and looked at him gravely as he approached.
“Hey, bro,” was all David said as Ennis slid onto the bar stool next to him.
“Hey, Doc. How ya been?”
“Busy, lotta tourists comin in the store and Jeff’s about moved in. How’s the job so far?”
It had been less than two weeks since he’d heard the leisurely Southern voice with its rounded vowels and drawn-out syllables, but he’d missed it along with everything else. “Comin along - I guess you know Jonathan signed up for the ridin class.”
“I told everybody at the store where you were workin now. Once he knew, Andrea would’ve had to lock him in the store room to keep him away. Never woulda guessed he’d be into horses,” David answered. “So - can I get you a drink?”
“Can’t this time, the boss needs me ta work this evenin. I just wanted ta ask . . . “ Ennis had tried to think of the best way to say it but suddenly forgot everything he’d considered so he blurted out as fast as possible, “I wanted ta know, would you have dinner with me. Friday night.”
David took a long swallow of beer, and for a terrible moment Ennis thought he was about to shake his head. But he just put the glass down and answered, in a speculative tone, “I don’t see why not, where’d you want to go, I could meet you there after work.”
“No -- I mean, I, uh, I’ll come by and pick you up.”
David smiled a little, though the gray eyes fixed on Ennis’ face looked serious. “Ennis. . . . are you askin me out on a date?”
“Yeah, that’s what - I’m askin.” His face suddenly felt hot, and he was relieved no one was close enough to hear them.
“Well, I sure would like to do that.” His voice sounded surprised and a little impressed, which Ennis hadn’t been expecting. “I can get to the store early and take off a little early; maybe a little before six?”
“I’ll be there. See ya then.” Ennis headed for the door, feeling a little like he’d just gotten a dreaded dentist appointment out of the way. He didn’t see Maggie anywhere but knew that she would quiz David thoroughly about his brief visit to Grandma’s later that evening.
Two days later he walked up the side steps of the beach house, relieved that Maggie didn’t seem to be around. The door opened quickly enough after he’d knocked that he knew David had been watching the street for his truck.
David’s eyes immediately widened and a smile spread over his face; “you look great, bro.” He’s glad ta see me anyway, Ennis thought, unaware of how he looked.
Ennis wore his best dark green plaid shirt and had cleaned his boots to a shine they were unaccustomed to. A Target store had yielded a new pair of jeans as well as a narrow cowboy-style straw hat. He’d also stopped for a haircut that was long overdue, and the shorter length made his hair curl slightly around the backs of his ears and the base of his neck. At the barber’s suggestion his sideburns had been trimmed to half their length and he was wearing men’s cologne for the first time since Alma’s brother had lent him some for his wedding. The scent had seemed musty and cloying and its memory had mixed with his recollection of feeling overdressed and overheated; but “Stetson’s one of the most popular right now,” the barber had assured him, and the scent wood, lemon and spice suited him. He looked very solemn, very vulnerable and much younger than he’d looked in a long time.
The truck windows were open as Ennis drove up the highway and out of town, speeding up gradually as they passed a row of Lakefront mansions dozing behind groves of trees and decorative stone walls, and then out of town. The road would curve and pass for awhile through forested stretches that allowed only brief silverish glimpses of the water, but would then bend and run along the Lake again as if it were fastened to a spring that would let it venture just so far from the shoreline before pulling it back again. Frequent bends in the road provided long views of the shoreline, scalloped into covers that were bracketed here and there by shoreline cliffs that looked as if they’d been sliced with a giant knife.
David was sitting half-sideways, leaning against the door frame with his left arm flung over the back of the seat. He wore a loose-fitting lightweight jacket with raised collar, a polo shirt and stone-washed jeans and his hair was already ruffled from the cool afternoon air. “This is great! Every time we go around a curve it looks like a postcard. Would you believe I’ve never been up here?”
“The hell you say. You’ve been here -“
“Yeah, more’n five years now and I’ve been to Minneapolis, but never up the North Shore. Maggie, Jeff, Andrea they’ve all been tellin me it’s a disgrace, livin in Duluth all this time and not seein it. But I was gettin settled here, buyin the house, gettin the business set up - you know how time can just sneak past you.”
He was enjoying the sight of David riding beside him, and wished the drive were longer for more reasons than one. His general nervousness about the evening was heightened as they drove through the small town of Two Harbors, the sidewalks in front of its restaurants and gift stores crowded with summer visitors, and he wondered what the restaurant they were heading for was like.
In the past week he'd been searching not only for David but also for a restaurant that looked right, and he’d been sure that he’d recognize the place as soon as he saw it. He passed by places he would otherwise stop for a quick meal, and the pizza and Chinese places where he and David had often bought takeout weren’t to be considered for a meeting this important.
On the other hand, he’d stopped to look through the windows of one or two more formal restaurants; taking in glimpses of gleaming silverware, stiffly pristine tablecloths, tall potted plants, waiters and waitresses clad like penguins in unvarying black and white, and fashionably obscure-looking art on the walls, and couldn’t imagine sitting across from David in such a setting. On Friday, reminding himself that he’d resolved to do whatever it took he finally called Andrea, telling her only that he was planning "ta eat dinner out, and it's kinda important."
"Oh?" The way the pitch of her voice slid up slightly implied curiosity, but he said nothing more. It was one thing to resolve to stand what he couldn't fix; creating new things to stand was another matter; no use makin' it harder. "You're looking for someplace special?"
"Yeah, not real fancy but...."
"Not Denny's. Or the International House of Pancakes."
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Okay, let me think. . . there’s plenty of good places along the North Shore to choose from. One of a kind places, not chain restaurants. Last fall my son took me to dinner at the Rustic Inn, you might try that. It's easy to find, everything on the North Shore is. Just get on Highway 61, that's London Road, and head out of town up the shoreline. It's in Castle Danger - yeah, that's a town. Not too far from here, it's - I'd say 25 miles up the highway, a few miles after you go through Two Harbors. Great food, and they’ve got beer and wine too.”
The Rustic Inn was a long log building, old but in good repair and with a forthright omission of any decoration other than white shutters on the windows. The parking lot was almost full. “Lotsa locals here,” David commented, scrutinizing the license plates on the way in. “Must be a good place.” He glanced quizzically at the small paper bag Ennis was carrying but didn’t ask about it. Ennis let David enter ahead of him and was a little puzzled when the other man turned his head and gave him a bright, surprised look. He wasn’t aware that he’d put his hand briefly on David’s lower back as they went through the door.
The inner walls as well as the outer walls of the café were paneled in logs. The wood that formed the walls, open-beamed ceiling and polished floors was a warm yellowish brown but the tables were covered with red checkered tablecloths and the plain kitchen chairs were painted an uncompromising fire engine red. The afternoon sun streaming with the windows that lined the dining room blended the colors into a ambient glow that suggested a fireplace with an inviting hearth, though there was none in the room. It was spotlessly clean and, at the moment, crowded and amiably noisy.
But they had arrived at the right moment. After a few minutes’ wait “to clear off the table”, a harried-looking waitress led them through a archway flanked by heavy rough-cut beams to a long gallery and a table with a view of the Lake. As Andrea had suggested, Ennis asked for a wine list and handed it to David. “I’ll drink whatever you’re havin.”
“Separate checks?” the waitress asked when she returned with menus. David didn't answer and Ennis was unable to look at her but managed to answer: “No. One.” She nodded and gave them the menus without comment; “we'll decide on drinks when we order,” David told her and they were alone again. Ennis took a quick swallow of the water she'd left, thinking that the past few days had been like a hike on a very narrow and rocky trail next to a very steep cliff. He'd watched for uneven and slippery places at every step and had carefully avoided looking down to see how far the fall would be.
The cafe's menu was surprisingly lengthy and varied, and David orderd a bottle of red wine to go with the wild rice meatloaf Ennis had ordered and his own meal of crusted flank steak. The portions were generous - “good thing I skipped lunch,” David quipped - and as Andrea had promised, it was the best kind of home cooking; the tastes and aromas of meat, spices, gravy and roasted vegetables suggesting a warm country kitchen with a pot of soup always on the stove.
As they ate, Ennis took quick, appraising glances at the other diners. The room was full at this dinner hour with an assortment of hungry people: families laden with children and cameras, a few of them examining tourist brochure and road maps; hikers in heavy boots, with backpacks the size of small suitcases placed on extra chairs; a few elderly couples, and people here there there whose easy conversations with the waitresses and lack of attention to the scenery framed in the windows suggested that they were not summer visitors. He spotted pairs of men here and there and a few women dining together; and none of them seemed to be attracting any attention.
For the first time since Ennis had packed and left the beach house the two of them were sitting and facing each other and their conversation was deliberate and hesitant at first, both of them grateful that their work provided plenty of material. David reported that Jeff Friedman had finished moving in, and that the new tenant and the store's new line of boat-related items had attracted a whole new crop of 'boat nerd' customers. They'd had a few anxious moments when the City had contacted him asking if the store still had adequate parking. “But it turned out all right. They came out and crunched a few numbers, finally said we just needed about a half-dozen more spaces. We asked that pizza place next door if they'd let us use some of their lot, it's a bit bigger than they needed, and they were okay with that. The manager said they'd got plenty of business from me and my employees.”
For his part Ennis told David about Jerry, about Merlin and Morgana, and about the bay mare he now rode regularly. “Name's 'Bimini',” he reported. “Jerry said that's an island someplace, his wife names all the horses.” David looked amused while listening to an account of his meeting with Rachel. “Sounds like some of Nathan's relatives,” he said. “I was wonderin about that when Maggie was tellin us about her, Stafford's a good old Virginia name. Bet she's got some relatives in the DAR.”
While they were on their third glass of wine, David glanced out the window and pointed something out with a nod toward the parking lot. “Here's somebody with a date he wants to impress.”
A convertible sports car with a young couple in the front seat had just pulled into the parking lot. The driver's companion, a young blonde woman, busied herself with tidying up her apparently expandable hair, and the driver, whose own side-parted hair looked as if it were encased in invisible plastic wrap, fumbled behind the seat and drew out something that looked like an elongated brick. “Whut the hell's that?” Ennis asked, watching the man cradle the bulky device between his chin and shoulder. “Car phone,” David answered.
“Funny time ta make a phone call.”
“He might not be. Sometimes people just try and look like they're usin those things so people can see they've got one.”
They then both watched idly as the man got out of the car, the woman waiting regally for him to open the door. “He's been tryin to impress her,” David remarked. “See, his sleeve's rolled up, doesn't want anybody to miss that Rolex.” But Ennis was noticing the way he was dressed, in khaki slacks, a pale blue cotton shirt and oddly (to him), dark red suspenders. He saw in the sports car's driver the same un-selfconscious sense of belonging in his surroundings that he'd noticed in Vic, and for a moment he compared himself to both David and the stranger in the parking lot.
It was forgotten a moment later. After opening the passenger door of the topless car for his date, the man carefully locked it; then returned to the driver's door and locked that as well. He even jiggled the door handle a little to make sure it was locked while his date watched, her head tilted to one size quizzically. Ennis watched in astonished silence for a moment and then heard a laugh explode out of David on the other side of the table. It carried Ennis with him like a flood being propelled out of a broken dam, and for the first time that he could remember he laughed long enough to have to catch his breath. It rushed through his nostrils and produced a loud snort.
“Hey, no piggy noises now,” David said severely. “I thought you were a classy date,” which made both of them laugh even harder. As their laughter receded they heard a faint choking sound behind them. It was the waitress, returning with the coffee David had ordered. “Oh my, now I'll have to keep a straight face when they come in,” she said, setting the coffee cups down in front of them before hurrying away again.
The rest of the meal seemed like a reunion of old friends, and they lingered over coffee until almost closing time. Ennis took the almost-forgotten paper bag from under his hat where he'd place it next to him, and pushed a half-pint carton of heavy cream across the table. “I remembered ya like that with coffee,” he said. “Didn't know what they'd give us here.” David looked down at the carton for a few minutes, his face unreadable. “That's what I like all right.”
They lingered over second and then third cups of coffee, and were among the last customers there when they finally left at closing time. “Can we drive on up the highway a bit?” David asked. There's something there I wanna see.
Ten minutes later, Ennis turned into a parking lot behind a sign reading “SPLIT ROCK LIGHTHOUSE STATE PARK.” Directional signs pointed toward campsites, the Superior Hiking Trail, but Ennis and David didn't need any directions to find the lighthouse. Made of pinkish brick, it was at the edge of a high, narrow finger of rock that jutted out into the lake. They made their way to beach across the cove from the lighthouse, and Ennis noticed that the beach was made of water-smoothed pebbles and rocks rather than the sand beach he'd grown used to. They sat down on a boulder worn smooth by the rear ends of generations of tourists, and he turned over a few of the pebbles at his feet with the toe of his boot. “Rocks,” he said half to himself, wondering why it was vaguely familiar.
“Lotsa beaches along the Lake are rock beaches,” David answered. They sat in silence for several minutes, and Ennis felt David's hand fall lightly over his own. He turned his hand over, palm up, and they sat awhile longer, their hands and forearms clasped together but otherwise not touching each other.
“I've missed you,” David said finally.
“I missed you too,” Ennis answered, adding “I missed - everything.”
“I thought everything was going good there at the Corkran place.”
“It is. But it ain't enough.” He knew what had to come next: “I know. I shouldn't a just run off like that. I ain't proud of it. But that man. . .”
“Rick. I saw what he did; wanted to slug him.”
“But he seemed okay, and then -“
They were both still looking toward the lighthouse, but David now turned and faced him directly. “And then he heard somethin' that told him about you 'n' me, and he acted like he'd touched something dirty.”
Ennis' eyes and mouth both narrowed, remembering. “I sure didn't expect it.”
David sighed. “Well, I can't tell ya it won't happen again. Or that it won't happen when you're not expecting it, that's how it happens more often than not. I figure that was one of the things my uncle had in mind. You remember I told you, about 'men like us', like he said?”
Ennis remembered. “That we have ta be tough.”
“Tough and smart. You got the tough part down, don't think I don't know how much it took, everything you did tonight. And I know you're not dumb. It's not fair, none of it, but if you 'n' me gotta be smart - well we can.... work out some things. Ya know, compromises.”
“Like what?”
David thought a minute. “We'll think of a lot of 'em sooner or later. I guess you'll wanna visit your daughters now and then. Do you plan to come out to them?”
Ennis' thoughts jerked away, as quickly and defensively as a hand stuck into a fire. “Sooner or later” was all he could manage.
“And after sooner or later - do you go visit or do we?” This time Ennis was unable to answer at all, but David didn't seem surprised. “If you'd rather go visit alone, or there's another wedding, say, or a funeral - that's okay. I'll hold down the fort here. But I need something in return. Say you give me the holidays, Christmas, New Year's, the whole bit. That kinda compromise.”
To his relief, the fire receded again. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
“So let's start with next week. Thursday's Independence Day, can ya get the day off?”
“Dunno, but I guess so. I can ask. I heard Jerry say he 'n' Rachel were goin' to a cookout, so I'll prob'ly just need ta feed the horses.”
“Good. There's a beach party one of the neighbors has every year, let's go together to that. Eat hot dogs, play volleyball. Say we get there about noon.”
This told Ennis that there was no staying at the beach house that night, and that Thursday would be one more test. “Sure thing, Doc,” he said, a long-ago Independence Day in Wyoming flashing by briefly.
They watched the sun sink lower in the sky as they drove back to Duluth. As many times as Ennis had been on the beach at sunrise, sunsets were something they hadn't been able to see from the deck in the evenings. The Lake was washed with a deep gold light by the time they got to the beach house and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Not satisfied with David's “see ya next week,” Ennis pulled him close for a long kiss. “Now I'm really lookin' forward to it,” David said lightly, smiling down at him as he climbed the stairs to the door.
Ennis wasn't sure how long he'd stood looking up at the house when he heard a car pull into the driveway behind him. Always alert to sounds or anything unexpected, he was relieved to see Maggie and Sam. “Long time no see,” Sam nodded to him, amiable and laconic as always.”
He greeted Maggie on his way to the truck, noting that her familiar candid smile was back. “Will I see ya next Thursday, Maggie?”
“No, Sam and me are gonna be spending the day in Madelia. Meet the parents time, wish me luck.” Despite the light words, her voice sounded oddly distracted, and he realized that she'd been looking not at him but at the stairs directly behind him. “Sure do, Maggie, have a good time,” he told her and forgot about it as he headed toward the bridge. Now that the evening was over, there was too much else to think about.