Read Online A Charmed Place by Antoinette Stockenberg - Free Book Online
Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg
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bowing her head in the dark and saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
And that shocked her.
The next day, Maddie chose not to sit in the patio chair that looked out at the lighthouse; she sat facing her roses instead. It was Norah who took the chair that faced the tower. She was in an especially gleeful mood, and it made her blue eyes sparkle.
"Fifty thousand," she said, triumphant color flagging her cheeks. "That should get people's attention."
"Fifty!" Joan was clearly astonished; she could go antiquing for the rest of her life. "You got that ancient old man to pledge fifty thousand dollars? But what does he care if the lighthouse gets moved or not? He could be dead by the time that happens."
Norah smiled her special smile, reserved for occasions like these. "He took a little—very little—persuading." She lifted her chin and ran a slender index finger along the line of her throat. "I may have to drum up another fifty," she said, pursing her lips. "But for now, fifty is fine. It proves we're not in it for the parties and the cocktail wieners. It proves we truly care."
If Maddie had learned one thing in her ten-year friendship with Norah, it was that she never rallied to a good cause just because she felt obliged. Norah was motivated to do things by one of two impulses: boredom, or curiosity.
"I keep meaning to ask you, Nor, how's the gallery doing this summer? Is Cheryl working out?"
" Yes, thank God. The woman is determined to have a gallery of her own someday. I may just sell her the Seaside at a bargain price."
Yes. Just as Maddie suspected: boredom.
"Now that I think about it, you don't seem to be spending much time there," Joan chimed in.
Norah shrugged. "Been there, done that, you know? Besides, the gallery doesn't maximize my greatest skill."
"Which is?"
" S queezing blood out of a rock," said Norah, laughing.
She surprised them by adding, "No, seriously, I guess I'm tired of the gallery because it doesn't seem—" She frowned, struggling for the right word. "Significant enough. Maybe it's because I chose not to have kids; but I feel a need to leave something ... I don't know ... of me. I guess that's it. Cheap egotism, isn't it? To want to leave something of me?" She added softly, " But saving the lighthouse would—might—satisfy me that way."
Coloring again, Norah turned away from them to gaze at the lighthouse. It was so unlike her to sound deep that Maddie and Joan were left exchanging a long, wordless look.
"But! That's not today's problem," Norah said more cheerfu lly as she rose to her feet. " Getting the reclusive Dan Hawke to come out and play: that's today's problem."
Joan smiled and said, "Hey, take a walk on the beach topless. That oughtta do it."
Norah batted long lashes at Joan and said, "You're warm."
She peeled off the yellow knit sundress she'd been wearing and revealed an eye-popping yellow bikini underneath.
Joan said with respect, "You've been working out."
"Have to," Norah said as she laid the sundress over the back of her chair. She picked up her canvas beach bag, rooted around in it, and came up with a hefty screwdriver.
"Hide this," she told Maddie, handing her the tool. "It's evidence."
"What the hell are you planning to do?" blurted Maddie. She was scandalized at every one of the possibilities that had begun lining up in her brain.
"I'm going windsurfing. And somewhere in shouting distance of the lighthouse, the fin is going to fall off my windsurfer and I'm going to have to call for help. If no one should come out to save me, I'll end up drifting helplessly out to sea. Does that answer your question?'' she asked with a guileless look.
Joan blanched. "Oh, don't do that, Norah, don't! It's too dangerous. You could be swept out to sea. Oh, Norah, don't. Please don't!"
"Joanie, I'll be fine," Norah said with a squeeze of her friend's hand. "You know I'm an excellent swimmer; where do you think all this definition comes from?" she said, flexing a slender but
And that shocked her.
The next day, Maddie chose not to sit in the patio chair that looked out at the lighthouse; she sat facing her roses instead. It was Norah who took the chair that faced the tower. She was in an especially gleeful mood, and it made her blue eyes sparkle.
"Fifty thousand," she said, triumphant color flagging her cheeks. "That should get people's attention."
"Fifty!" Joan was clearly astonished; she could go antiquing for the rest of her life. "You got that ancient old man to pledge fifty thousand dollars? But what does he care if the lighthouse gets moved or not? He could be dead by the time that happens."
Norah smiled her special smile, reserved for occasions like these. "He took a little—very little—persuading." She lifted her chin and ran a slender index finger along the line of her throat. "I may have to drum up another fifty," she said, pursing her lips. "But for now, fifty is fine. It proves we're not in it for the parties and the cocktail wieners. It proves we truly care."
If Maddie had learned one thing in her ten-year friendship with Norah, it was that she never rallied to a good cause just because she felt obliged. Norah was motivated to do things by one of two impulses: boredom, or curiosity.
"I keep meaning to ask you, Nor, how's the gallery doing this summer? Is Cheryl working out?"
" Yes, thank God. The woman is determined to have a gallery of her own someday. I may just sell her the Seaside at a bargain price."
Yes. Just as Maddie suspected: boredom.
"Now that I think about it, you don't seem to be spending much time there," Joan chimed in.
Norah shrugged. "Been there, done that, you know? Besides, the gallery doesn't maximize my greatest skill."
"Which is?"
" S queezing blood out of a rock," said Norah, laughing.
She surprised them by adding, "No, seriously, I guess I'm tired of the gallery because it doesn't seem—" She frowned, struggling for the right word. "Significant enough. Maybe it's because I chose not to have kids; but I feel a need to leave something ... I don't know ... of me. I guess that's it. Cheap egotism, isn't it? To want to leave something of me?" She added softly, " But saving the lighthouse would—might—satisfy me that way."
Coloring again, Norah turned away from them to gaze at the lighthouse. It was so unlike her to sound deep that Maddie and Joan were left exchanging a long, wordless look.
"But! That's not today's problem," Norah said more cheerfu lly as she rose to her feet. " Getting the reclusive Dan Hawke to come out and play: that's today's problem."
Joan smiled and said, "Hey, take a walk on the beach topless. That oughtta do it."
Norah batted long lashes at Joan and said, "You're warm."
She peeled off the yellow knit sundress she'd been wearing and revealed an eye-popping yellow bikini underneath.
Joan said with respect, "You've been working out."
"Have to," Norah said as she laid the sundress over the back of her chair. She picked up her canvas beach bag, rooted around in it, and came up with a hefty screwdriver.
"Hide this," she told Maddie, handing her the tool. "It's evidence."
"What the hell are you planning to do?" blurted Maddie. She was scandalized at every one of the possibilities that had begun lining up in her brain.
"I'm going windsurfing. And somewhere in shouting distance of the lighthouse, the fin is going to fall off my windsurfer and I'm going to have to call for help. If no one should come out to save me, I'll end up drifting helplessly out to sea. Does that answer your question?'' she asked with a guileless look.
Joan blanched. "Oh, don't do that, Norah, don't! It's too dangerous. You could be swept out to sea. Oh, Norah, don't. Please don't!"
"Joanie, I'll be fine," Norah said with a squeeze of her friend's hand. "You know I'm an excellent swimmer; where do you think all this definition comes from?" she said, flexing a slender but
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