"Evie can stay here, do her homework," Joe said. "Just us three today."
"All right, Joe," Peter said slowly. "If that's the way you want it. I'm game."
We all drove down to the dock together, even though it was within walking distance. The wind was stronger now, ruffling the gray water in the lake. It didn't seem to be the best day to take out a boat. I noticed that men were tying up their boats, not taking them out. Joe stopped at a dock with a sign. Captain Sandy, Boat for Hire. It was a white boat with a small cabin. A compact man in a cap was coiling rope on the deck.
"Permission to come aboard, captain," Joe said.
"I don't know about this," the man said. His legs were planted wide on the deck as the boat rolled. He tipped his chin toward a flag on a flagpole. "Small craft warnings. The harbormaster wants us to stay in port. Sorry Wally sent you down here for nothing."
"I'm not asking for a rowboat," Joe said. "Just your pretty little cruiser there."
Wally's dad shook his head. He had a big face with gray stubble, and his gaze was clear as he sized us up. I couldn't see Wally in him at all. "Find another boat."
"Come on, chum, we only want it for a couple of hours, tops. Give us a break, we're leaving tomorrow. Wally said you'd be glad to do it." Joe reached into his pants pocket and took out a bill. I couldn't see how much it was. He slipped it into the guy's shirt pocket.
"You know anything about boats?" Wally's dad asked.
"I do," Peter said. "I can handle her fine."
"We'll be back by two, three at the latest," Joe said.
"Maybe sooner," Mom said.
"Stay in the lake," Wally's dad said. "The inlets out to the ocean can get tricky in weather like this. Don't try it.
"Wouldn't think of it," Joe said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet as the captain began to load the boat with some fishing gear.
Mom looked out at the water. "I don't know about this, Joe," she said.
"We'll have a ball," Joe said. "Here, Captain Sandy, let me give you a hand."
"It will be okay," Peter said to Mom. "I grew up around boats. It's not bad yet. We won't stay out long."
Mom looked seasick, and she was still standing on the dock. "It's better not to argue with Joe," she said, not so much to him, but to me.
Looking out at the whitecaps, I was suddenly scared. "Don't go," I said.
"It's going to be okay, pussycat," Peter assured me. "Trust me. This could be just what we all need."
I looked into his eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe he could win Joe over, or they could make a different kind of deal. Maybe he could show Mom that she could trust him. Maybe they could come back a little more friendly than they were right now.
The three of them went aboard. Joe first, Mom next, settling herself nervously in a chair at the back. Peter got the bowline and jumped aboard. He saluted me.
He lifted a hand in good-bye. "We'll be back, Evie!" he shouted. "We'll be back!"
Chapter 23
Big storm coming," Wally said.
I stared at the pool. I wished he'd go away. "Hurricane. They're thinking it might hit us. Or maybe south of here. Miami if we're lucky."
It was hard to believe. The wind had picked up, but there was blue sky overhead.
"Did your folks take out my dad's boat?" I nodded. "Just for a couple of hours, though. They'll be back."
"So you're on your own for a while. I just got off."
He had brown eyes and was tanned, with freckles across his nose. He needed a haircut. His chest was slender, his skinny legs ending in large sneakered feet. I wondered if I could ever be interested in boys again.
But, as Joe sometimes said about women, the basic equipment was there, even if Wally didn't know what to do with it. Was there something I could learn from him, something I could take back to Peter, that knowledge I'd almost gotten last night?
I saw wanting in Wally's eyes. Now I could recognize it as easy as Margie waving at me across Hillside Avenue. What would happen if I got hold of that want and rode it like a raft to see where it could take me? Joe had left me behind like a kid. I didn't want to be a kid.
Anger built up behind my eyes. I kept thinking of Peter's kiss, so long and deep. What happened after the kiss? Sure, I knew the birds and the bees, but I needed more. I needed practice.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Wally asked. "Look at the surf?"
I nodded.
No one was on the beach. The wind sent the sand stinging against our legs. The green water was pounding the shore. We walked past where the hotels were, back where the shuttered mansions faced the sea from behind the dunes. Wally picked a spot between two high dunes, a place where we'd be sheltered.
"What will happen if the hurricane comes here?" I asked.
"Depends. If it's a big one, they'll evacuate the island. They take people to the courthouse over in West Palm. I've been through hurricanes before — it's not too bad."
"You're just being brave. Boys are braver than girls." I said this without shame. I looked up at him sideways and saw him swallow. Be dumb! Margie always scolded me. It works!
I trailed a finger in the sand. "We're probably leaving soon."
"Yeah? That's too bad."
"I know. I wanted to get to know you better."
"You did? You always seemed to be chasing me off."
"I don't know. I guess I was shy."
I waited for him to kiss me then. I had Joe's impatient voice in my head: Let's get this show on the road.
But Wally just cleared his throat and looked out at the ocean. So I gave up and kissed him instead. Right on the cheek. He turned and our noses bumped. Then he planted one on me, right on the mouth.
The sand scratched my legs and I could feel it blowing against my back. We ground our mouths together until my teeth hurt. I put my hand experimentally on his leg, and I felt him shudder. We kept up the kissing until the boredom got to me and I started thinking about how his knee was grinding against mine. I wanted to tear my mouth away and scream.
But something was happening to Wally. He was breathing hard through his nose. I could smell him now, all sweat and a little bit of salt and maybe the hair tonic that kept his hair so wet. I started to wonder if Forney the manager kept a bottle of it behind the desk for himself and the bellboys, a snort of Vitalis instead of whiskey every couple of hours.
He put his hand on my chest and squeezed.
This was where I was supposed to stop him, but I didn't. I wanted to know.
I felt a surge of the power my mother had. I could see that Wally wasn't thinking anymore. He was heading straight for what he wanted with a determination that was out of his control, a train jumping the tracks and never losing speed.
I moved my hand to where I felt Peter that night, and Wally inhaled, and then things got a little out of my control, because it was like I was waving him on, saying go ahead go ahead don't stop even though that was far from what I was feeling. I wanted things to keep going slowly. I wanted to stay bored.
He pushed me back and ground against me. He fumbled down in his pants and I felt something naked against my bare leg. It felt soft and firm. It didn't feel threatening, but I was suddenly aware of Wally's weight, of his breath on my neck, too hot.
I had to grab for air with my hands. I was suffocating. My leg was pinned underneath his knee, and his chin was digging into my shoulder. He kept shoving against me like a piston and I couldn't breathe. I opened my eyes and saw a pimple right near his ear. My stomach rolled over. I smelled sweat and couldn't tell if it was him or me. I had learned enough.
I pushed him off as hard as I could, surprising him.