Sundays on Squire's Isle Read online

  Sundays on Squire’s Isle

  Geonn Cannon

  Smashwords Edition

  Supposed Crimes LLC, Falls Church, Virginia

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2012 Geonn Cannon

  All Rights Reserved

  Published in the United States.

  ISBN: 978-1-938108-11-2

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  January 8, 2012: Girl on a Bicycle (Nadine Butler/Miranda Powell)

  February 12, 2012: Born to Run (Jill and Patricia Hood-Colby)

  March 4, 2012: Scissoring (Alex Crawford/Rachel Tom)

  April 8, 2012: Easter Parade (ensemble)

  May 13, 2012: Mama's Girl (Nadine Butler/Miranda Powell)

  June 24, 2012: The Waiting (Amy Wellis/Kate Price, Nicole Bronwyn)

  July 22, 2012: Open Doors (Alex Crawford/Rachel Tom)

  August 5, 2012: No Place Like It (Nadine Butler/Miranda Powell)

  September 9, 2012: Candidate Bed Death (Jill and Patricia Hood-Colby)

  October 7, 2012: October Surprise (Molly Page/Shane Sanborn)

  November 4, 2012: Sunday Drive (Alicia Ryan/Laura Dugan)

  December 9, 2012: A Warm December (ensemble)

  January 8, 2012

  Girl on a Bicycle

  Nadine woke early and saw that it was just after seven.

  She carefully freed herself from beneath Miranda's arm, then crawled out from under the blankets to sit on the edge of the bed. She shivered in the cold of the bedroom and blinked blearily at her bare feet as she decided whether she was really awake for good. After a week of unseasonably warm temperatures, it seemed the weather suddenly realized it was winter and started acting accordingly.

  After a minute or two of wakefulness, she decided sleeping in wouldn't be an option. She tucked her hands up into the sleeves of her undershirt and padded barefoot to the thermostat. She pushed it up a few degrees, then went back to the bedroom and pecked her wife on the cheek. Miranda murmured, but didn't wake.

  Nadine used the bathroom and then stripped out of her pajamas, exchanging them for jeans and a thick sweater over a long-sleeved T-shirt. She slipped quietly out of the bedroom, leaving the lights off as she moved through the house. She found her sneakers under the coffee table and sat down to slip them on. She tied them slowly, then put her chin on her fist and gazed out the window for a few minutes trying to wake up enough to stand again.

  Finally, she sighed and forced herself to her feet. She went out through the back door, since it was farther from her sleeping wife and it was slightly quieter when it closed. Outside, the sky was still holding on to the darkness of night, but the sun was beginning to brighten the far edges of the eastern sky over the neighbor's roof. Her shoes crunched the dry fallen leaves as she walked around the side of the house to get her bicycle.

  There was no guard on duty at the front gate, as he was usually only there for the morning drive and rush hour. She punched her code into the keypad, waited for the gate to slowly swing open, and rode through. She checked over her shoulder to make sure the gate closed behind her before she pedaled away.

  December Harbor was still asleep except for her, so she took the rare opportunity to ride her bike down the middle of the street. Occasionally a car or truck came by, and she veered onto the sidewalk to let them pass. She was in no particular hurry, meandering down side streets on a trajectory that would end up at the harbor.

  She could see the masts of sailboats over the buildings of downtown. When she arrived at the ferry lanes, which was once more a parking lot for people waiting for the first ferry of the day, she parked her bike in front of Gail's. She'd left it there before and knew it would be safe. She set off on foot down the boardwalk, hands in her pockets and face turned toward the water to watch as it slowly gained light and color from the sun.

  A few months ago a new coffee shop had opened on the boardwalk, not far from Gail's, and Nadine sat on the bench outside. The ferry arrived through an early morning fogbank like a mythical carriage, golden light pouring from the windows and reflecting off the still waters. The cold and exercise had woken her up enough that she was feeling the cold. And she felt alert enough that she would remember how beautiful it was later.

  The problem with going to work at ten in the morning was she never got a chance to appreciate the pre-dawn stillness. She lived in one of the most beautiful places in the world, and she never took the time to just sit and watch the day begin. She breathed in deep and sighed, smiling at a tourist couple who passed by her. It was solitary and peaceful, but she would have traded the quiet for the warm body of her wife to snuggle up against.

  In rapid succession, the sky turned from dark violet to lavender to navy blue. As it paled to robin's egg, and the streets around her became more active, she got up and went into the coffee shop. She ordered Miranda's favorite coffee, and one for herself, and got a drink carrier to take it all back to her bicycle. She had a basket under the seat, and the carrier fit snugly inside. The sunlight was like white-gold, cutting strips up and down the streets. The buildings were outlined in sharp relief, every surface outlined with bold shadows.

  The front gate was open when Nadine got home, and she waved to the guard as she zipped past. She parked at home and carried the coffee inside.

  "Miranda?" She glanced into the kitchen, but the front of the house was still dark. She carried the coffees into the bedroom.

  The bathroom door opened and Miranda emerged wearing a fluffy yellow towel. Her hair was wet and combed away from her face, which was devoid of makeup. She smiled and Nadine's heart did back flips.

  "I knew you'd show up if I stopped waiting. Where were you?"

  "Exercise, sightseeing... coffee." She checked the lids. "Here. I noticed you've been getting these since that place opened."

  Miranda took the cup and sipped. "Mm. Oh, Dean, heaven. But I would have preferred having you wake me up."

  "Well, drink the coffee and we can have a do-over with the benefit of being wide-awake."

  "Oh, I like that." She stepped closer and kissed Nadine good morning. The kiss lingered. When they parted, Miranda stroked Nadine's hair and said, "You're cold. Hop in the shower. I'll be waiting."

  "In the towel?"

  "Doubtful."

  Nadine grinned and patted Miranda's rear end as she ducked into the bathroom. She put her coffee on the counter for after the shower and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

  It was still early, but it was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

  February 12, 2012

  Born to Run

  Patricia pinched the knot of her tie, winced, and tugged it free to start over again. Her blazer was visible on the closet door behind her. Her hair was neatly braided, Jill's handiwork, and she was wearing her eyeglasses for a more professional look. She had saved the tie for last because she knew it would be a pain in the ass.

  She glanced at the clock out of the corner of her eye, sneered at it, and went back to trying to make the perfect Windsor knot. She had to meet James Dugan at a lunch meeting that would be attended by the
entire city council. It was there that she would officially announce her candidacy for mayor, and Mayor Dugan would endorse her. She figured having a sloppy tie would only count against her.

  Jill appeared in the bedroom door, still dressed in sweatpants and a tank top.

  "How's it going?"

  "Once I get this tie figured out, I'll be fine."

  Jill put a hand on Patricia's shoulder and turned her around. She undid the tangle Patricia had been working on and started over.

  "You should have worn that red dress."

  Patricia smiled, her chin in the air to give Jill room to work. "You just hate that I'm wearing a suit."

  "I don't think a woman has to dress like a man in order to get respect."

  "That's because you're not a man. The people I'm going to be speaking to this afternoon are set in their ways. The mayor's job may not be a traditionally male profession, but the people have this town have only known the past seven mayors as 'Mr. Dugan.' I need them to open their minds to the possibility of a woman in that role. A suit is traditionally a man's outfit. If they see me wearing one and wearing it well, then subconsciously it might be easier for them to see me as mayor."

  Jill clucked her tongue. "Devious. Good thing you've never tried those Jedi mind tricks on me."

  "Don't be so sure. You married me, didn't you?"

  "That was my mind trick on you. See how well it worked?"

  Patricia chuckled, and Jill finished. "There you go. And your plan has one thing going for it; you do look fantastic in a suit and tie."

  "Thank you, sweetie." Her arms slipped around Jill's waist and pulled her close for a kiss.

  Jill pinched the tie between her fingers so she wouldn't wrinkle Patricia's clothes. When they parted, Patricia turned around to look in the mirror. Jill took the blazer off the closet door and helped Patricia put it on.

  "Are you nervous?"

  "About announcing my candidacy for the highest-ranking job on the island? A job that has traditionally been held by one family? No, why would you think...?" She exhaled sharply. "Don't be ridiculous."

  Jill smiled and fished in the pocket of her sweatpants for the small item she'd been hiding since Friday. "You know the art period my class has every Friday? This week I decided to make something. I know that you're waiting until everything is official before you think about a campaign manager or bumper stickers, yard signs, whatever. But I wanted you to have this." She slipped her arms around Patricia and pinned the button to her lapel. It was yellow with black writing that said "HOOD-COLBY, 2012" in Jill's unmistakable handwriting.

  "Aw, Jill." She blinked back her tears and brushed Jill's fingers. She turned in Jill's arms again and looked into her eyes. "Thank you for supporting me."

  "You bet. I can't wait to be First Lady."

  Patricia rocked her head back and forth. "Yeah, well, we still have the campaign to get through. And there's no guarantee the other Dugans are going to take the end of their dynasty well. I may have a fight on my hands. And if that happens, there's... a chance that some bad stuff may come out."

  "Anything I don't know?"

  "No. But I wanted to make sure you were prepared for the whole... affair issue will come out again. You may have to hear a lot more details than you want to know."

  Jill sighed. "I know. I also know that's not who you are anymore. It wasn't even who you were then. Don't worry about me; you have my vote. No smear campaign is going to change that."

  "Good. And hey, some of the smears might be about you."

  "What?" Jill blinked. "What do you mean?"

  Patricia leaned in and whispered in case someone was already bugging their bedroom. "Remember the time we were in the ferry lanes, heading over to the mainland to pick up Michael, and we slipped into the backseat and fogged up the windows? There were a lot of other cars around. Someone might have peeked in... I might get accused of public indecency."

  Jill was blushing. "That was right after we got together."

  "Our first weekend alone." Patricia brushed her lips over Jill's cheek. "I learned so much about you that weekend."

  "Now what I meant..." Jill cleared her throat. "That was five years ago. You really think anyone would remember it?"

  Patricia gave a theatric shrug. "You never know, when it comes to politics."

  "I'll risk it. Let them say whatever they want, because it doesn't matter if you made love to me in a semi-public car or if you made some questionable decisions during your questionable first marriage. The bottom line is that you deserve to be mayor. The voters on this island can either reward your hard work, or they can hand it to someone just because he happens to have a certain last name. I have faith. Even if it's a hard road, I'll take it with you."

  "Thanks, Jill. Are you sure you don't mind me skipping out on lunch?"

  "Not a bit. Michael and I can hang out." Jill kissed the corners of Patricia's mouth, then kissed her solidly. "Knock 'em dead, Trish." She turned Patricia around and put her head on her wife's shoulder. "Mayor Patricia Hood-Colby. How's that sound?"

  Patricia smiled and leaned her weight against Jill. "Plausible. Like it could really happen." She kissed Jill's temple and Jill slipped away from her.

  "I'll see you in the kitchen. Michael's making you pancakes."

  "I'll be there in a minute." She watched Jill go, then looked at her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted the collar of her shirt, careful not to disturb Jill's careful knot in her tie. Her fingers moved down the lapel to the handmade button on her chest. It was small enough to be unobtrusive, but the yellow drew her eye. She brushed her thumb over the top so that it shone even in the dim light of the bedroom and took a steadying breath.

  Mayor Patricia Hood-Colby.

  Definitely plausible.

  March 4, 2012

  Scissoring

  Rachel was still in bed when Alex got out of the shower, but she was entrenched in her nest. Her legs were crossed under the blanket with her laptop resting on her thighs. The newspaper was dismantled and spread across Alex's side of the bed, and a plate with Rachel's breakfast sat amid the articles. Since Rachel had to have gotten up to fix her food, Alex decided the proper term was that she was back in bed. She looked up when the bathroom door opened and began gathering the newspaper to clear Alex's side of the bed.

  "Hey. You want to lie back down?"

  "That's okay. Don't dismantle your nest." She hooked a finger over her shoulder. "Shower's free if you want it."

  "Thanks." She typed one more thing and put her laptop aside. She had slept in one of Alex's fire department T-shirts, and she tugged the hem down over her thighs as she left the bed and walked on the balls of her feet as she followed Alex back into the bathroom. Alex had wrapped a towel around her torso and Rachel ran her hands over Alex's shoulders and up into her hair before tickling her neck and undressing next to the shower.

  "You're getting shaggy, my sweet."

  Alex looked at her reflection. Her bangs completely covered her forehead, twisting into separate strands above her eyebrows. It feathered around her ears and rested against her neck. She ran her fingers through it as the water started again and Rachel ducked around the curtain. Sally, the volunteer firefighter with the department, only had hair a little bit longer than this and she had to braid it when she went on a call.

  She wet her toothbrush under the faucet. "Maybe I'll head down to the barber shop and get a trim."

  "Okay." Rachel's voice echoed off the tile of the shower stall. "Or I could cut it for you."

  Alex sighed and began brushing her teeth. "You're not giving up on that, are ya?"

  Rachel's laugh was musical to begin with, but combined with the sound of falling water and the acoustics of the bathroom, it became something almost fairy-like. Alex couldn't help but smile. A few months after they became a couple, Rachel casually mentioned she knew how to cut hair. Alex wasn't as protective as her hair as some women could be, but she was terrified that if it came out wrong, Rachel would be upset or hurt.
>
  She turned her head from side to side as she brushed her teeth. Now that it had been pointed out, she couldn't stop noticing how long her hair had gotten. They had planned a nice, quiet Sunday at home, and now she would have to take another shower to properly wash her hair, then get dressed, drive down to the barber shop, wait for her turn...

  "Okay."

  Rachel peeked around the shower curtain. "Okay what?"

  Alex spit out the toothpaste and turned around. "Okay. You want to cut my hair, I'll give it a shot."

  Rachel's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

  "You've been bugging me about it for... what, three years? Why not. If it's bad, I'll just get it fixed in town. It's been warm enough lately that it won't be horrible to have an extremely short cut."

  "What if you come out of it looking like Rachel Maddow?"

  Alex snickered and rinsed out her mouth. "You could do worse than Rachel Maddow."

  "When do you want to do it?"

  "As soon as you're done showering. We want to give the poor barber in town enough time to fix whatever atrocity you're going to visit on my head."

  The echo of Rachel's mock-laughter followed Alex out of the bathroom.

  #

  Alex moved a stool from the kitchen and sat it in front of the French doors that led out to their deck. Ostensibly it was for the extra light from the sun, but it was also so she could watch the boats while Rachel worked. Rachel found an old sheet and wrapped it around Alex like a cape and brought a pair of shears and a comb from the bathroom. On her way back into the living room, she turned on the stereo and put the CD player on random.

  Once she was in position, Rachel steadied Alex's shoulders and straightened her neck before she ran her comb through the still-damp strands.

  "So what are we doing today? Just a trim, or do you want something radical?"

  Alex smiled. "You're the one who has to look at it every day."

  "True." She adjusted the scissors and used the comb to mark a line before she cut. "Don't worry. You're in excellent hands."