Page 71 of A Change of Location
“Watch your language,” her grandfather chided. “Your grammy’s up in heaven, listening to every word.”
“Back atcha,” she shouted, and dipped below the water’s surface. Bobbing up, she added, “I learned that word from you.”
“Chase says it more’n me. She’s gonna need a towel. Knowin’ her, there’s one in the car. Thinks of everything.”
“I’ll get it.”
Martin met her at the top of the metal ladder. Her fair skin dripped and was pimpled with goosebumps.
“Did I say it was cold? Jeezum crow!”
Her grandfather sat on a bench, smoking a cigarette and listening to his radio. He and Hannah discussed the number of lobsters required for tomorrow’s feast.
“How ’bout fireworks?” he asked. “They’re legal now, I don’t have to go to New Hampshire no more to get ’em.”
“Definitely. Not the ones that make really loud booms—they terrify the dogs. Just things that light up and whirl and sizzle. Lots of the Chinese chickens with the sparks that fly out of their butts.”
“All righty. Are you takin’ him out on the boat? Her engine’s overhauled, runs real sweet.”
“Maybe tomorrow. We’re going to Freeport today.”
When Martin and Hannah resumed their journey, he asked whether her grandfather made a living from harvesting lobsters.
“Not like he used to. The industry has been sinking for years. Catch limits, low prices, bad economy. Sometimes the fishery is totally shut down for whale conservation. He has a charter boat license, so he earns money taking sportsmen way out to sea to catch stripers and trophy fish. And summer tourists hire him for eagle-spotting trips on the river. Off season, he ferries supplies to the islands in Casco Bay.”
“His granddaughter inherited his work ethic.”
“His unemployed granddaughter.”
He leaned against the car seat, stifling his urge to point out a job tailored to her skills and interests waited for her at Stanwell House.
“What happened to your parents’ Morris Minor? I haven’t seen it.”
“Dad sold it about ten years ago, when Chase needed help paying his—” She began again. “My uncle was in debt. And I started college sooner than the family expected and too late to apply for financial aid. But I got it for my sophomore year. A scholarship from the Film Education Institute covered my year at Bristol University.”
Each disclosure about the Ballards’ finances helped him better comprehend her reaction when she discovered his net worth exceeded the hundreds of million pounds reported by Posh magazine.
She made a detour to a strip of land accurately named Sandy Point. Hannah removed her sandals, obviously intending to walk along the strand.
“Brave enough to wade into this part of the Atlantic Ocean?” she asked.
“If that’s a challenge, I accept.” He took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his trouser legs.
Hand in hand, they approached the waves. How bad could it be?
Worse than bad, he discovered as soon as he stood ankle-deep in the water. His feet and toes tingled, then lost all sensation. “Crikey!”
Hannah splashed ahead of him, stopping when the hem of her shorts got wet. “So refreshing.”
“It’s torture!” He inched forward. Gazing towards a group of young swimmers, he said, “Their parents should be charged with child endangerment.”
She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Harsh winters make thick blood.”
Having proved his mettle, he retraced his steps back to the damp, firm sand. Hannah marched across the beach, picking up items the most recent high tide had deposited. She carried her gleanings to the car and dropped them into an empty paper cup marked with a fast-food logo.
“You saw all those the jars lined up on the wooden ledge on our porch? Mum collects beach glass. I gather shells.”
During their journey he noticed a semi-circle of identical pastel-colored huts built close together, set back from the roadway.
