Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Against the Wall

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

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  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “Not too many folks move to Maine in February.”

  He laughed and shrugged one shoulder. “Not the sane ones. Figured I might as well see what I was up against right off.” Shadow returned with the stick and gave a quick bark of impatience. “Good boy.” Bear ruffled the dog’s ear, gathered the stick, and threw it even farther. “Go get it.” He looked back at her. “Didn’t catch your name.”

  Kay watched the dog. “I didn’t throw it. Fetch isn’t really my game.” She collected the sketchpad and shoved it back into her bag. “Thanks for retrieving my towel, however.”

  “You’re not going to tell me who you are?”

  She shook her head and started back toward the stairs leading to the cottage.

  “What if I promise to keep Shadow on his leash from now on?” he called. “What would you say then?”

  She glanced back over one shoulder. Bear and Shadow stood watching. The dog dropped his stick and looked a bit disappointed. So did his owner.

  “I’d say, Good boy.”

  Against the Wall

  by

  Lisa A. Olech

  Stoddard Art School Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Against the Wall

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Lisa A. Olech

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2016

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0980-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0981-1

  Stoddard Art School Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To Jennifer A.

  An artist who brings color to the world

  one perfect stitch at a time.

  Chapter One

  The bells over the door announced her as they had a thousand times before. Kay Winston breathed in the familiar scents of the gift shop called Polka Dots. Candles, soaps, saltwater taffy. Rows of gift cards, souvenirs, and a tall rack of tiny Maine license plate key chains, arranged alphabetically by name. Kay picked up an ugly red ceramic lobster with the words Bell Harbor, Maine, printed across its tail in gold. She was home.

  “Be right with you!” a cheerful voice called from the back. “We just got a new shipment of lovely placemats. Matching napkins. Buy one, get one at half price.”

  The bargain placemats sat prominently on the end cap with an artistic arrangement of hand-dipped candles, a bottle of local wine, and a dried flower display.

  “I love them,” Kay called back. “I’ll take them all. How much for the whole lot?”

  Dottie Polk rushed through the curtained doorway leading to the back office. “Did I hear you say the whole—Kay? Kay!” The older woman pulled her in for a tight embrace. “What a wonderful surprise. What are you doing here? We weren’t to see you ’til July.” Dottie pulled back and cupped Kay’s cheek. “It’s great to see you.” A frown marred her soft face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Kay grinned down into Dottie’s gentle brown eyes and felt a catch in her heart. Damn. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m great.”

  “Don’t you be fibbing to me. You couldn’t get away with it when you were five and sneaking candy coins, and you sure as hell can’t be doing it now.”

  Kay never could get anything by Dottie. Didn’t mean she couldn’t try. “I’m fine,” Kay insisted, averting her eyes. “How are you?” She glanced toward the back room. “Where’s Walter?”

  “He’s out being a pain in the ass. Don’t try to change the subject.” Dottie smoothed the length of Kay’s hair. “Everything okay in Stoddard? Things all right at school?”

  “Stoddard is Stoddard. School is great. The end-of-semester show is running at the Bruce Gallery in Boston, and I’ve three pieces on display this year. Quite the coup. By this time next year, I’ll have my MFA. Can you believe it?”

  “You’ve a helluva future headed your way.”

  Kay smirked. “Let’s hope so.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve enough faith for the both of us.” Dottie patted her arm and led her to the office. “Come on out back, and sit. There’s a pot of tea steeping. Probably strong as sock dye by now.” She grinned over one shoulder and winked. “Just the way I like it.”

  Kay followed into the quaint little office, Dottie’s private sanctuary. Kay used to play here on rainy summer days. The kneehole in Dottie’s desk was her pirate cave. It was a great place to hide away and nibble on foil-wrapped chocolate coins pretending they were her buried treasure.

  She stopped in the doorway and smoothed her hand over the penciled scores that ran the length of the painted wood. Every summer when she came to Bell Harbor with her mother and stepfather to visit, Dottie’s husband, Walter, measured her height on the doorframe. The marks were still there. Proof she’d grown up right on this very spot.

  Dottie poured them each a cup of tea. “Ahhh,” she sighed. Kay smiled into her cup. Dottie always sighed with her first sip of tea as if it were the finest wine she’d ever drunk. Now she’d say—

  “That’s the ticket.”

  Thank goodness, some things never changed.

  “Not that I’m complaining, mind ya, but why are you here so early in the season? What’s going on with you, or shall we spend the afternoon dancing around this?”

  Kay shrugged. “I decided instead of one week at the cottage this year, I’ll spend my summer break here. Things in Stoddard are…kind of complicated right now.”

  “What kind of complicated?”

  “I didn’t get the internship I wanted. My summer class cancelled.”

  “And? What about Todd?”

  “Todd is over.”

  “What�
�s he done?”

  Kay sipped her tea. She wasn’t about to tell Dot all the gory details. Wouldn’t tell her how she found Todd and Gwen going at it like two sex-starved howler monkeys in their bed. Or the ugly screaming match that followed. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “He went back to his ex.”

  “Slimy bastard.” Dotty clicked her tongue, “Tsk, tsk. Well, I’m sorry about the internship and your class.” She raised an eyebrow. “As for the other, I won’t lie, I’m not unhappy you’re rid of that Johnny Come Lately.”

  “Johnny Come Lately? Who talks like you?” Kay shook her head. “She can have him. I packed what I could fit into my car, and took off. I figured I could use the cottage to clear my head for a bit. I’ve enough savings to live for a couple months if I don’t eat much, and if you’ll let me sell some sketches here like last year, I should make it through August. Where I’ll live come the fall semester, I have no idea, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

  “Of course I’ll take your sketches. All you can give me. They sell great, but you can’t live on that. Walter and I could—”

  “No.”

  “But, Kay…”

  “We’ve been over this before. I’m not taking your money.”

  Dottie pursed her lips and gave Kay the stare. “Do your folks know you’re at camp?”

  “Not yet.” Not ever if I can get away with it. “I doubt they’d care. I’m the only one who uses the place, anyway. I’ll tell them. Eventually. Maybe.”

  Dottie gave her the stare again. The door to the storeroom slammed.

  “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out they-ah! It’s May, but I swear I’m smelling snow, Dottie. Yessah. Do ya know what the weather’s gonna be?” Walter hollered as he moved through the boxes of stock. “Yogi got back from down in Beantown. You should see the pile he brought with ’im. Got some wicked cool stuff.”

  “Yogi?” Kay whispered.

  Dottie shook her head and flipped her hand to dismiss his rambling. “You know how he makes up names.”

  Kay understood. Walter had a nickname for everyone.

  “I’m chilled clear to my woolies! Be a luv, put on the kettle.” He stopped to hang his coat on the top corner of the office door. When he saw Kay, he lit up. “Special Kay!” He pulled her out of her seat into his arms and gave her a great bear hug. “How’s my girl?”

  “I’m great, Walter, how are you?”

  “Well, I’ve been bettah, but it’s cost me more.” He patted the belly of his overalls while keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Did you know she was comin’?”

  Dottie shook her head.

  “You don’t usually get here ’til flatlander season. How long you stayin’?”

  “How about all summer?”

  “Well, I’m tickled pinker than Aunt Fanny’s pig. Did ya hear, Dottie Dot? All summer.”

  “I heard.” Dottie’s grin didn’t mask the concern in her eyes.

  Kay kissed Walter’s cheek. She hated to worry Dot. Given time, she’d tell her everything, but for now, she wanted to feel safe and loved and cherished. She found all those things with Dottie and Walter. It was good to be home.

  “I should get myself over to the cottage and move my stuff in before dark. I stopped here first.” She smiled at Dottie. “Had to make sure Polka Dots was still the same.”

  “Nothing much changes ’round he-ah. Ya know that.” Walter gave another squeeze.

  “I do. Why do you think I keep coming back?”

  Dottie rose and grasped her hand. “You want any help moving your things?”

  “No, I packed for a speedy getaway. It won’t take me long to unload.” Kay gave Dottie’s fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll pop in when I come back into town for supplies.”

  “If you need anything, you know where to find us. Get yourself settled. Then you’re coming to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll make pot roast just the way you like it.”

  “I love your pot roast. It’s a date.”

  Stopping by the penny candy counter on their way out, Walter scooped a handful of foil wrapped gold coin chocolates into a small white bag. “Your favorites.”

  “They are.” Kay laid a kiss on his lined cheek. “And so are you.”

  ****

  Gravel popped and crunched beneath the tires of her Mini as she pulled into the parking spot. The “camp” sat low on the slope heading down to the rocky shore of Abbott’s Cove, one of the many inlets in Bell Harbor. From the gravel pad, a worn set of stone steps led to her charming cottage by the sea.

  Correction, it wasn’t hers. Not yet. It was still her parents’, at least until they could find the optimum time in the ever-changing real estate market to make a handsome profit on the place.

  Kay had spent every summer here from the time she was four years old. Her mother, Claire, married Charles the week Kay turned three. Charles thought Claire’s simple background growing up in Maine had been quaint. They found this place on Abbott’s Cove. With Dottie being Claire’s best friend all through school, Bell Harbor had been the perfect place to get away and visit old friends.

  But things changed. Her mother changed. She’d gone from being a poor, single mother struggling to keep shoes on her daughter’s growing feet and enough food on the table, to a woman who played bridge on Thursday afternoons with the women from the club. Maine’s quaintness had soured in her mouth. She changed how she spoke, forcing her accent away. She started telling people she was from New England, not from Maine. She became a snob.

  That hadn’t stopped Kay from loving Bell Harbor. When her parents decided summer vacations in the Hamptons were preferable to the coast of Maine, she begged them to send her to Dottie and Walter’s. She hadn’t needed to beg. They were glad to see her leave.

  Bell Harbor became her escape. Her refuge. She still ran here when life became unbearable. It continued to be her soft place to land. But this time, the fall had broken her. Damn near killed her.

  She and Todd had planned to come here for two weeks in July to announce to Dottie and Walter that they were getting married. He’d asked her on Valentine’s Day. He’d brought home two bottles of cheap champagne and a convenience store rose and taken her to bed. The rose he’d stripped as naked as the two of them and showered her and the bed with the crushed red petals. After they’d made love, he’d asked her if she wanted “to get hitched.” He’d joked afterward that it had been the champagne talking. He’d gotten carried away in the moment, but “what the hell, why not?” They were already living together.

  It wasn’t the proposal of every girl’s dream, but he swore he loved her. And she loved him. So what if he didn’t get down on one knee and present a little black velvet box with a stunning diamond ring nestled inside. That was only for cheesy romantic movies. She was much more pragmatic.

  Kay ran a thumb over the tender tip of her finger. Over the sensitive spot where the rose’s thorn had drawn blood. When she’d found Todd and Gwen in bed three days ago. He’d pulled all the petals from a cheap, convenience store red rose and sprinkled them in the sheets. Kay found the stripped stem on the hallway rug moments before she heard them. Saw them.

  Crushing it in her fist, its thorns stabbed deep into her finger. Deep into her heart. She never felt it. She was numb.

  Damn, I should have thanked Gwen—once she’d climbed down off Todd’s penis, of course. The girl saved her a boatload of misery. Just think, she could have married the dog. Rephrase that. It gave dogs a bad name; she loved dogs.

  Stepping out of her car, Kay pulled the heavenly combination of rich pine scent and the crisp tang of the ocean deep into her lungs. She closed her eyes and listened to the hushed rhythm of the waves kissing the beach. It called her name.

  Unloading could wait. The draw of the surf was too great. Rushing down the stairs, Kay stepped out onto the pebbled beach that welcomed her like an old friend. The water sat high, but the tide had turned. Smoothed stones glistened in the waning light. The sky, streaked with pea
ch, danced on the tips of the waves.

  Tears filled her eyes as a familiar peace settled on her. Was there a more beautiful place on earth? Not to her. It was perfect. Well, almost.

  Kay closed her right eye. There, now it was perfect.

  She shook her head and laughed at herself. It was silly. She headed back up the steep stairs to her car and retrieved her suitcase. Completely childish. But when you’re twelve and arrive in your personal, private playground only to discover someone else in your sandbox, you get to do silly things.

  It had been the worst summer. Claire and Charles decided it would be their last vacation here, and it was breaking Kay’s heart. Claire and Dottie argued and stopped speaking for the first time in their friendship, and to put a cherry on top, someone dropped a house on the point like twister residue from The Wizard of Oz.

  Modern and sleek—it was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. With stark lines and oversized gaping windows, it was cold and lifeless. In all the years she’d been coming here, she’d never spotted a soul out there. Dottie said the couple who owned it didn’t come up until the last few weeks of August, which is why she never saw them. They were nice according to her, but Kay never even asked their names.

  They’d invaded her territory. Her best thinking spot sat out there beyond the house, at the tip of the point. How was she supposed to think out there with that…that icebox of a house hogging all the space?

  Kay dropped the last carton onto the painted wood floor and pushed the hair out of her face. She’d started a small fire to take the months of chill from the place. After pulling all the dust covers off the faded hodgepodge of furniture, she lugged her paints and supplies up the narrow flight of stairs to her studio. The second bedroom originally, it still had the single iron bed set along the back wall, but now it served as her work area when she was here. Set on the seaward side of the house, the morning light shone brilliantly, and the view of the cove was magnificent. As long as she closed her eye.

  Kay raised the window and pushed aside the sheer curtains that danced on the evening’s breeze. The sun set, pulling the last of the peach-tinged sky with it. The soft navy blue of night settled in to blanket the darkening sea. She blinked. Both eyes.