The Gin and Chowder Club

seemed to be answered. Asa appeared, smiling, at breakfast, kissed her lightly on his way out, and whistled a carefree tune as he walked to his truck.

By Friday afternoon, however, his heart was once again full of an increasing, familiar apprehension. He pulled slowly up the sandy driveway to the old red Cape and looked up at the massive stone chimney protruding stoically from the center of its roofline. He pictured the mason that had stood high above the ground almost two hundred years earlier, toiling under the same hot sun and looking out in awe at the same rugged coastline. He imagined the intensity of the man’s concentration and the sweat dripping from his brow as he carefully chose each stone for the most impressive part of the chimney.

To Asa’s dismay, Noelle wasn’t home yet. He parked the truck, lifted his toolbox out from the bed, and walked around to the back porch. He opened the door and called out a hello just to be sure. It felt strange to walk into the empty house, almost as if he were an intruder. He headed up the stairs, his heart pounding. The bedroom door was open, and he walked quickly across the room, set down his toolbox, and pushed the window all the way up. He took out the screen and set it against the dresser just as Nate had done. As he turned back to the window, the bed caught his eye. It was neatly made with the quilt pulled tightly to the headboard, but Asa did not see the quilt. Instead, in his mind’s eye, he saw only a snowy white sheet strewn quickly aside. He stared at the middle of the bed and saw Noelle lying naked, her arms stretched freely above her head. He saw Nate next to her, his fingers gently running along her abdomen and slipping down between her thighs, teasing her. Asa squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. This is crazy. I am crazy!

He reached for his toolbox and climbed out onto the roof of the porch. A cool breeze swept across his hot cheeks, clearing his mind. He forced himself to study the sill and the casing around the window. He knew that the window had pulleys and weights just like those in the coast guard station. The job was a bit tricky. He would need to carefully pry the outside casings off, as well as the blind stop, and expose the side jamb. The side jamb would then need to be pried away from the sill in order to free it enough to cut the nails off with a hacksaw. Only then would Asa be able to remove the sill and fit the window with a new one. He set to work, concentrating on the task at hand and shutting his mind to the room beyond the window.

He worked steadily, prying the dry wood of the side jambs carefully so that they did not split. He had just cut the visible nails and was trying to free the sill when the pry bar suddenly slipped and tore into the palm of his hand. Asa shouted out in surprise and pain. He immediately knew that the cut was deep. He grabbed the shirt that he had taken off and wrapped it tightly around his hand and climbed in the window. As he rummaged through a drawer in the bathroom cabinet for a bandage, he heard a voice on the stairs.

“Asa?”

His heart skipped a beat. “Up here,” he replied, still looking for a bandage.

“Are you okay?” Noelle asked, reaching the top of the stairs. Asa straightened up, and when Noelle peered in the door, he had his hand behind his back and was grinning sheepishly. She looked at him suspiciously. “What did you do? Let me see.”

“It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, why are you hiding it?”

Asa slowly held out his shirt-wrapped hand.

“Oh, Asa. How bad is it?”

“I don’t know… I’m afraid to look.”

Noelle reached over and gently unwound the T-shirt from his hand. The last layer of fabric had a good-size red stain on it as she gingerly lifted it away. In the center of his palm was an angry gash about an inch long.

Noelle’s nursing instincts immediately took over, and she pulled Asa to the sink and thoroughly washed the wound. Asa grimaced as the water rushed over the cut.

“When did you last have a tetanus shot?” she asked.

“Last summer-when I stepped on a nail.”

“That’s good, and this has bled quite a bit, which is also good. Bleeding flushes out bacteria.” She turned to the medicine cabinet and took out a tube of Bacitracin ointment and then turned to the linen closet for gauze and tape. Asa leaned against the bathroom counter and felt self-conscious without a shirt to put on. Noelle expertly bandaged his hand, talking the whole time. “It will probably throb tonight, and you will have to keep it clean. You must be very careful to not let it become infected.”

Asa just nodded, watching Noelle and wondering at his good fortune. Could accidentally stabbing my hand be lucky? If it meant being cared for by this beautiful nurse, then yes, definitely! I would do it again in a heartbeat!

Noelle neatly finished wrapping his hand and then leaned down to pick up the shirt. She turned to the sink and ran it under cold water, rubbing the fabric together. “How does it feel?” she asked, not looking up.

“Fine… thanks,” he replied, still watching her.

Noelle rang out the shirt. “This stain should come out. I have a load of wash to do if you’d like me to throw it in too.” She glanced up at Asa, and for the first time noticed his bare chest. Asa’s curly light hair was not nearly as thick as Nate’s, but it caught the light of the late-afternoon sun and shone against his smooth brown skin. “In the meantime, you can borrow one of Nate’s,” she added, looking quickly away and setting the wet shirt on the counter. Asa stood in the bedroom doorway as Noelle opened Nate’s top drawer, pulled out a freshly laundered shirt, and threw it to him.

“Thanks,” he said. He could feel his pulse throbbing through every vein of his body as he searched Noelle’s eyes for any sign of encouragement. Just a smile, a nod, or better still, take my hand… Asa tried desperately to will Noelle’s next move. More than anything, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. Standing alone in the bedroom, the opportunity seemed so perfect, so fleeting. Noelle glanced at the bed, and Asa’s heart stopped. Then she quickly turned and looked at the open window.

“Do you need help with your tools?” she asked.

“What?” he said with uncertainty.

“If you bring them in, I’ll put the screen back.”

“Oh, right.” He pulled on the T-shirt and climbed out onto the roof to gather his tools. “I just need to measure this sill so I can pick up a new one.” He quickly measured, jotted down the measurement, threw everything in the toolbox, and climbed back in. He watched Noelle fit the screen into the window, and his heart plummeted when she brushed past him, retrieved his wet shirt, and immediately headed down the stairs. He leaned against the door and stared at the bed.

Alone in the kitchen, Noelle opened the refrigerator and closed her eyes. She felt the cool air on her face and tried not to think, but her mind was flooding with thoughts of Asa. It would be so easy to love him. She took out two bottles, opened them, and prayed, Oh, God, please help me. I don’t know if I can stop this. It already feels so out of control.

Asa came into the kitchen, and Noelle turned and handed him a frosty bottle. “It’s the least I can do,” she said with a half-smile.

“Actually, there might be more,” he said quietly.

“Asa…,” Noelle started.

But he interrupted her and tried to look innocent. “What I mean is…” He faltered. “Is there any more peach cobbler?”

Noelle laughed, relieved by the question. “I’m all out, sorry, but I was wondering if you’d want to stay for supper. I have hamburgers, and I made macaroni salad last night.”

Asa hesitated. “All right,” he answered. “That sounds good.”

“Great. Just let me run up and change.”

Asa wandered out to the porch and leaned back in one of the chairs. He tried not to visualize Noelle changing, but it was impossible. He nursed his beer and felt his hand begin to throb. He closed his eyes and resolved to simply be content to be here-there was nowhere else he would rather be.

In a few minutes, Noelle returned and Asa opened his eyes. She had retrieved her bottle from the kitchen and sat down across from him.

“So, how did that happen anyway?” she asked.

“I don’t know… I was being careful. I’m glad it’s my right hand, though.”

“That’s right-you’re a southpaw, aren’t you?”

He nodded.