Beloved (16 page)

Incredible. Twice in five minutes they
'
d gone after the same thing. Men and women
never
wanted the same thing. That was one of nature
'
s laws. What would they be fighting over next, she wondered. A shower curtain?

The next table was overflowing with crafts and linens. McKenzie ambled past the crocheted doilies and corn husk dolls with hardly a glance, but Jane stopped and sniffed each of the potpourris, grateful for the chance to regroup. What was it about him? Every moment they
'
d ever spent together had been awkward. And she was just as much to blame as he was. She
'
d never met anyone who
'
d got so much on her nerves. Oil and water, that
'
s what they were.

And it was also true
—
she was ashamed to admit it
—
that she still didn
'
t trust him. Some people were open books; Bi
ng, for example. But others ..
. well, she was beginning to understand the expression
"
Still waters run deep.
"
Oh, she
'
d known quiet men before. But they were merely dull, sometimes transparently so. They were not men she
'
d call
deep.

She
'
d been staring for a small eternity at what looked like a pink-and-purple crocheted top hat, without having a clue what it was. When the sweet old lady behind the table said,
"
I made it myself,
"
Jane had no choice but to buy it. She handed over two dollars and fifty cents.

"
You might not be able to fit it over the fluffier kinds,
"
the elderly volunteer advised.
"
I use Scott brand.
"

Baffled still, Jane turned and walked virtually into McKenzie
'
s arms.

"
A screwdriver and a toilet paper cover,
"
he said with an absolutely impenetrable expression.
"
You
'
re really making out tonight.
"

"
A
what?
Oh, you mean the ..
. yes, the toilet paper cover. Well,
"
she said, tossing off a shrug,
"
that
'
s what tag sales are like. Something for everyone.
"

He smiled
—
in a way it was an attractive smile, even if it was a snotty one
—
and said,
"
We
'
ll see if it ever ends up on your bathroom shelf.
"

"
I doubt very much that you
'
ll ever get the chance to know,
"
she retorted, and then she turned her attention to the next table.

It was the take-a-chance table, with a big fishbowl filled with little folded slips. The prizes were mostly stuffed animals; but there were three grand prizes of a blender, a coffeemaker, and a toaster oven, to lure the high rollers. Jane plunked down five dollars, assuming she
'
d get five chances, and was astonished when the vendor said,
"Fifteen
chances, young lady. See what you can do.
"

She plunged into the bowl and pulled out her first slip of paper.
Sorry
,
it said in a neatly written hand. She pulled out another.
Sorry
.
And a
nother:
sorry.

McKenzie was still standing there, enjoying her rotten luck, she supposed.
"
You know, Mr. McKenzie,
"
she said, still simmering over the toilet-paper-cover crack,
"
I
'
m pretty tired of you treating me like some snob.
"

She pulled out two slips at once by mistake.
Sorry
.
Sorry
.
"
Apparently you have some problem with people who inherit real estate
"
—
sorry
—
"
although I can
'
t imagine why, since you own an old family business yourself.
"
Sorry
.
"
But I
'
m a little tired of your attitude.
"
She opened three more slips while she waited for him to respond:
sorry
,
sorry
,
and a
sorry
.

"
My attitude,
"
he said at last,
"
is to live and let live.
"

Sorry. 
"
You know that
'
s not true,
"
she insisted.
"
You know you resent me living in that house. You know you resent me getting ready to sell it. There
'
s no way you
won
'
t
resent me. You
'
re determined, because I
'
m an off-islander.
"
Sorry
! Again?
"
Well, there
'
s nothing I can do about that.
"
Sorry
.
"
Maybe my aunt should
'
ve left
you
the house, but she didn
'
t. I
'
m
so
rr
y.
"

She opened the next slip:
You win a stuffed toy.

"
Hey! I won!
"
she cried.
"
I won I won I won!
"
she repeated in a laughing babble.
"
This is incredible! I won!
"

She waved the paper at the vendor in high spirits, then turned around in time to see McKenzie staring at her with a look of
...
she didn
'
t know what. She
'
d never seen a look like that on a man
'
s f
ace before. Good, bad, up down
—
she had no idea.
"
Well, I did,
"
she repeated, altogether confused.

The vendor said,
"
Pick any toy you want, miss, any at all.
"

Jane studied her choices. She passed right over the teddy bears, the poodles, the fuzzy red lobsters.
"
The little whale. I want the whale.
"
The vendor handed it over just as three men and an attractive woman dressed in a skin-tight miniskirt came up to McKenzie and her.

"
Mac!
"
one of the men said, slapping him on the back.
"
We
'
re goin
'
for a beer. Wanna come?
"

The woman looked deliberately from McKenzie to Jane and back to McKenzie again, but nobody was introducing anyone.

Mac said,
"
Sure. I
'
ll come.
"
He turned to Jane and gave her a brief, ironic smile.
You know that better offer I mentioned?
it said.
Here she is.

He walked out with them.

Jane blinked, then bit her lip and turned to go. She
'
d never won anything before, but she
'
d never been cut like that before, either.
Oh, well. It
'
s a wash,
she thought sadly, clutching her little gray whale and turning to go.

"
Miss
—
you still have
another chance
,
"
the vendor said to her.

"
Oh. Do I? I wasn
'
t counting.
"
She reached in and pulled
out her one last chance.

Sorry.

J
ane hadn
'
t seen Phillip Harrow since his dinner party, and when he stopped in she was surprised; she
'
d assumed he was off the island.

"
I was, last week,
"
he admitted.
"
But I spend most of my time on the island—more than Bing, although far less than Mac. And of course, all of us are home less than the Crates, who prefer to live as if they
'
re under house arrest. Some islanders are like that.
"

Jane laughed and offered him coffee and a tour. Phillip declined the coffee, but politely agreed to let her show him the house.

She took him first to the fireplace room. He had good things to say about it
;
everyone did. He ignored the tarot cards that were still laid out, just as Jane had found them, on the little inlaid table,

"
I assume by now all the neighbors have trekked on through,
"
he guessed aloud.
"
With your aunt having been a recluse, everyone
'
s worked up a fierce curiosity about the house,
"
he said as she led him through the rest of the place.

"
It
'
s true. Dorothy Crate and her mother have already been by, and Cissy and Bing, of course. I get the impression that people on
Nantucket
know every one of the older houses, that they regard them kind of like community elders. A total stranger knocked on my door yesterday and asked to see the place.
"

"
And Mac McKenzie?
"

"
He
'
s been here,
"
she said briefly.
As far as the back door. Any farther will be over my dead body.

They were in the kitchen now, with its knocked-down wall and exposed timbers. Jane explained her plans, and Phillip nodded without commenting.

They retraced their steps to the front room. In the empty parlor Phillip saw a stack of wallpaper books piled in the middle of the floor and said,
"
You won
'
t think I
'
m out of line if I give you a tip, I hope. But my business
is
real estate, after all.
"

He ambled up to the opened page of the top book and said,
"
You don
'
t want to spend too much time and money papering walls with, say, this floral chintz, because the buyer may own Arts and Crafts Movement pieces and prefer a minimal look.

"
In general, you
'
ll want to avoid putting the stamp of your personality on a property you mean to sell
—
no matter how charming a personality that happens to be,
"
he said, smiling.
"
Let
'
s face it: the renovate-and-flip age is over,
"
he added.
"
You should be watching every penny you put into this project.
"

Grateful for the advice, Jane said,
"
I
'
m glad to hear you say that. After talking to the Crates I felt an obligation to restore Lilac Cottage to museum condition. To be honest, I just don
'
t have the money,
"
she said, closing the wallpaper book with a slap.
"
I
'
m looking for a job right now, and I have a condo in
Connecticut
to pay for.

"
I wish I could keep this, I really do,
"
she added with a sigh, watching the lively play of sunlight through the diamond-paned windows.
"
There
'
s just something endearing about this place, even in March.
"