The Stark Beauty of Last Things by Céline Keating

Author:Céline Keating
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press

CHAPTER 22: Clancy

Outside the bungalow window, Clancy’s view was almost completely obscured. Dense fog transformed the world into an impressionistic painting; it was all pale grays, a smear of brown beach bramble, white where the ocean should have been. He grabbed his jacket and headed outside, needing to move. Ms. Jewel had just called to tell him Theresa Nolan was not taking the house. It was his if he wanted it.

Scraps of white chiffon drifted from the direction of the water, thin streams of smoky white dancing in the air currents. As he reached the crest of the dune, visibility vanished, and he was enveloped in whiteness.

He headed blind toward the sound of the ocean. It was oddly thrilling to be walking when he could hardly see, focusing on the ocean’s beat. At the water’s edge, he could make out only the lacy frill where the waves melted into the sand. The air smelled both metallic and salty; he inhaled deeply. He loved the fog’s invisibility cloak. He was buoyant, free, and insubstantial.

Nearby came a sound, and he started. A figure was coming up the beach. He didn’t recognize Julienne until she was almost abreast of him.

“I thought that was you,” she said.

“This fog is unbelievable.”

“We get it every now and again. When the ground is warmer than the air, or the other way around, I can never remember. Walk?”

He fell into step beside her. He was closer to the water’s edge than she was, and the sand sloped at this point in the tide cycle, so she was upward of him. The fog lent a curious intimacy.

“How’s the painting these days?”

They had had no interaction since their hike at Amsterdam Beach the week before. Occasionally, he had a glimpse of her going or coming from her studio. She walked so fast it was almost comical, head of corkscrew curls bent down, mouth working, as if in intense conversation with herself.

“I’m into the swing of it now. You seem busy, too. Dealing with Otto’s affairs?”

“Yes, going through his papers.” There was a lunch meeting with the partners the next day, and after that, he decided, he would talk with her about Moorlands. He didn’t like keeping his role secret, and he wanted the benefit of her knowledge. “I just heard from the lawyer . . . time’s up with no word from Theresa Nolan.”

“She’s not going to take the house?”

“Looks like it.”

“You’ll be in Montauk!” She grabbed him in an impromptu hug.

“Not so fast,” he laughed. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” He didn’t know if he would want to live a significant portion of time in Montauk and how he would balance that with his job if he did.

“I really hope you’ll take it,” she said, in a more measured tone.

“Won’t that make me a pariah in this town? An outsider who lucks into a house he doesn’t deserve?”

“You can’t worry about what people think. Though I should warn you about Theresa Nolan. She’s got a reputation.”

“Not a problem,” Clancy laughed.

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