My favorite boarder of the summer, Zofia, stood at the window, smiling at the view of the bird- and tree-filled backyard. Zofia had a tendency to wear flowing skirts and dangling earrings, clothing to match her Gypsy-sounding name. She hadn’t been able to wear that type of thing when her husband was ladder-climbing for a major car manufacturer, but after his death she’d spread her wings.
The white-haired Leo was sitting at the table with Paulette at his side. Paulette, tawny-haired and comfortably plump, had been matched with Quincy, but she’d shown no interest in him whatsoever once the dapper Leo appeared on the scene.
My aunt’s plan had been to match Zofia with Leo, but Zofia seemed to be comfortable with her single status and hadn’t shown a hint of interest in the man.
Unless something changed fast, this was going to be Aunt Frances’s first matchmaking failure ever. Well, not a complete failure, because four of the six boarders would be matched up, even if not according to plan, but that would leave two of them alone, and that would just about kill Aunt Frances.
“Breakfast!” Harris called. “Morning, Minnie. Could you ring the bell?”
“Sure.” I went out to the screened porch that lay adjacent to the dining room, and pulled on the rope that went from the porch to the top end of a bell. Years ago, the bell had been taken from an old train engine and installed in the branches of a maple tree for this very purpose. The bell dinged once, twice, and three times, summoning one and all to the breakfast table. Everyone was there already, but ringing the bell was a tradition that dared not be broken.
We sat down to toast, orange juice, and a breakfast casserole made of… well, I wasn’t quite sure what. Eggs, certainly. Bacon? Green peppers? And was that… it couldn’t be pineapple, could it? A few silent minutes went by while eight people chewed, seven of whom were searching for something complimentary to say. Harris, who had recently graduated from college, and who had been matched with Deena, didn’t seem to care about his romantic loss. What he seemed most concerned about was our reaction to the food.
“Harris, dear,” Zofia said, “the coffee is outstanding this morning.”
“Absolutely.” Leo held up his mug. “Never better, young man.”
Aunt Frances cleared her throat. “It takes ingenuity to create your own recipe, young man. You’ve shown great courage.”
“You bet,” Deena said quickly. “I would never have dreamed of making up something. Not ever.”
“Interesting combinations,” I said. “I’ll have to tell Kristen.”
“Just think,” Paulette added, “maybe Kristen will name a new entrée after you.”
Quincy said, “And they’re still filming that cooking show up here, aren’t they? Maybe you could get on that.”
Harris laughed and visibly relaxed. “Oh, come on, it’s not that good. Not Trock’s Troubles good.”
We all protested. I hoped Harris wouldn’t catch on to the fact that it was a token effort.
With the compliments done, Aunt Frances moved on to the next item on her agenda. “Quincy,” she said heartily. “Did you see the creation Paulette made the other day? She’s a knitting magician, don’t you think?”
It was obvious that Quincy cared far less about Paulette’s needleworking skills than he did about staring into Deena’s eyes. “Sure,” he said vaguely, most of his attention still on Deena. “Nice work, Paulette. Real nice socks you made.”
Paulette stared at him. “They were mittens.”
But Quincy had already turned back to Deena.
Aunt Frances sent me a despairing look. “So, Zofia,” she said, reaching for a piece of toast. “Did you hear that Leo ran ten miles yesterday? Nice to see people our age take such an interest in fitness, don’t you think?”
Zofia slathered butter on her own piece of toast, then added a large dollop of orange marmalade. “Hard on the joints, running is. Don’t want knee replacement surgery myself.”
I watched Aunt Frances bite her lower lip. Something had to be done, and done fast.
“Say,” I said. “Did I tell you what Eddie did the other day?”
Everyone, Aunt Frances included, turned to me, smiles already forming on their faces. They were all familiar with Eddie stories and I’d been told—in a friendly way—not to show up to breakfast if I didn’t have a new one.
I launched into his most recent escapade, one that involved a marina neighbor’s eighty-pound black Labrador retriever, a bit of bread fallen from who knew where, and a short cat vs. dog tussle over said bread. Soon everyone was laughing and I breathed a small internal sigh of relief that Aunt Frances was joining in.
Eddie to the rescue. The world was indeed a mysterious place.
• • •
“Good morning, Minnie.” My left-hand neighbor, Louisa, pulled her long white hair into a ponytail and tied it with a scarf. “The weather forecasters have been at it again, did you see? Wish I could have had a job that let me make so many mistakes.”
“Last I checked,” I said, looking at the blue sky, “they were saying mostly sunny and mid-seventies.”
“You poor dear,” she said sympathetically. “On your Saturday off, no less. Now they’re saying seventy percent chance of rain and high sixties.” She turned and pointed to the west.
I looked where her index finger was aiming. A solid line of clouds was low on the horizon and inching our way. “Maybe it’ll blow apart.” But the line was dark and thick and heavy. I tried another possibility. “Or maybe it’ll stay out on Lake Michigan. That happens, sometimes.”
Louisa studied the incoming weather, an educated gaze born from years of Great Lakes boating. She pursed her lips, deepening the small vertical lines around her mouth, and shook her head. “Not today. It’s going to start raining around eleven and it’s not going to quit for hours.”
“Little Miss Sunshine, you are not,” I said wryly. “Tucker and I were going to go out on Janay Lake today.” So much for the picnic I was going to make. So much for the route I’d laid out, and so much for the bottle of wine Kristen had recommended.
“Hmm.” Louisa put her hand to her forehead and frowned mightily. “You and that fine-looking young doctor? My, my. What could two young, single people possibly do on a rainy day?”
I tried not to laugh. “How do you know I’m that kind of girl?”
“If the circumstances are right, we’re all that kind of girl.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Have a nice day, dear.”
This time I did laugh.
• • •
While I waited for Tucker to show up, I came up with numerous alternative plans for the day that ranged from sitting around the boat and hoping Louisa was wrong about the weather to driving to Traverse City and trying every brewpub in town, to driving back and forth across the Mackinac Bridge hoping to watch a thousand-foot freighter cruise underneath us.
I stood at the boat’s cockpit, trying not to frown at the incoming weather. “We’re not going to let a little rain stop us from having fun,” I said out loud. “We’re just not.”
Eddie, who was lying on the back of the dining area’s bench seat, opened one eye, then closed it again just as Tucker came to the door.
“Knock, knock,” he said through the screen.
“Hey there.” I felt a happy smile on my face and saw an answering one on his. “Come on in. Welcome to my humble abode.”
He stepped inside, and while the houseboat had always seemed just the right size for me, it suddenly seemed far too small with the addition of a five-foot-ten, broad-shouldered man.
“This is really great.” He looked out the front window and ran his hand along the cockpit’s dashboard. “When you get tired of people, you just untie your house and go for a boat ride.”