Read Online Light Over Water by Noelle Carle - Free Book Online Page A

anyone touched Irene
Mayhew’s lemon bars.  Everyone knew that Irene had a scalp condition and
sometimes the violent scratching took place in the kitchen.  Very few ate Mary
Reid’s scones, being too foreign a food for the average Mainer.
              There was a
disturbance, she had heard from Rachel, with Olivia’s Boston relatives who
wanted to take her body back to the family cemetery in Massachusetts.  But the
burial today took place in their own Little Cove cemetery so Reg obviously
prevailed.  Very few from Olivia’s family actually made the journey to Maine. 
Her parents and one cousin, and an elderly woman that no one could place, sat
together at a table with Reg.  He looked not only miserable but also
tongue-tied.  The children though, clustered around their relatives, chattering
in their open unselfconscious way, bringing looks both benign and bemused.
              The older children
sat together too, Gladys noted.  Aubrey Newell, who sat with her boy Tim, made
quick work of a plate load of food, came back for seconds, then returned to sit
with a quartet of girls who teased him and giggled too loud.  He enjoyed their
attention, no doubt, but his glance kept sliding across the room.  Gladys
followed that gaze to where Sam was sitting with Alison Granger, beside Esther,
who watched her younger siblings closely.  Too bad Sam had to leave so soon,
she mused.  Those two might be a good match.  They weren’t speaking but sat
watching the people in the room.  Sam studied his father for a moment, then
whispered something to Alison, who laid her hand on his arm and shook her head. 
He covered her hand with his own, then raised it to his lips and kissed it
while gazing at her intently.  It happened so quickly that Gladys wondered if
she only imagined it.
              “Did you…” she
started to question Esther, but then she spied Shirley Spencer moving a bouquet
that she herself had brought over from the sanctuary for the table.  She rushed
to intercept her, her color high and her mouth a grim slash.  Then the incident
was altogether forgotten after what happened a few moments later.
              The church hall could
barely contain the people who came to pay their respects to the Eliot family. 
Not everyone in Little Cove came to church on Sundays – the men who felt that
their wives and children should go, but they themselves were exempted; the
Catholic families; the disinterested; the disenchanted, all stayed away on
Sundays – so the little hall was usually adequate for their needs.  But on this
day it was crowded with the community.  Everyone knew Reg and loved Olivia. 
Folks put aside their religious sensitivities for funerals and weddings.  So
the whole village was filling the hall, which was an extension of the church. 
The elderly watched with a touch of awe that they were still living.  The teens
made an effort to subdue their restlessness and suffered in the tight suits and
best dresses for the sake of the Eliot’s, and for the food.  The younger
children made no such effort, and darted about until they hurt themselves or
were corralled by impatient parents.  The women made themselves useful, clearing
away empty plates, washing dishes, setting out fresh food, and keeping a
watchful eye on their youngsters.  And the men talked about fishing and
planting, the war, politics – standing with their arms crossed or holding
delicate tea cups in their rough and sometimes clumsy hands.  The Kens, as they
were known; Ken Alley and his son Ken, Jr., and their sister’s husband, Ken
Mayhew approached Reg, awkwardly expressing their condolences, and then turned
to speak with Olivia’s parents.  Big Ken Alley was then headed for the door,
when it opened from the outside.  A man in uniform paused there, his head down
as he fumbled with both his coat and the door.  The cold wind pushed through,
weaving around legs, causing everyone to turn and look.  The