She handed him a bottle of beer.
‘‘Thank you,’’ he said.
‘‘Why don’t you make Mr. Canidy take his turn?’’ she asked.
‘‘ ‘Mr. Canidy’?’’ he answered, gently mocking, aware that she thought of him and Canidy as adults and not boys. ‘‘Why, Miss Child, I will tell you the shameful truth. ‘Mr. Canidy’ confessed to me just as soon as we had let loose the lines that he had never piloted a boat like this before. Can you believe that? A naval pilot who can’t steer a boat?’’
She chuckled ‘‘I like him,’’ she said. ‘‘Are you sure he’s telling you the truth?’’
‘‘I hadn’t thought about that,’’ he said. Now that he did he realized it was entirely possible that Canidy had told him that because he didn’t want to spend the afternoon at the wheel of a cabin cruiser moving slowly up a river.
He looked at her and met her eyes, and she looked away and flushed.
‘‘I’ve been thinking about the riverboats,’’ she said.
‘‘You almost expect to see something out of Mark Twain coming around the next bend, with tall smokestacks and a paddlewheel.’’
‘‘All there is on the river these days,’’ he said, ‘‘are diesel tugboats. They push barges of coal downstream, and gasoline up.’’
‘‘Pity,’’ she said. She had an adorable expression as she said that.
‘‘Yes, it is,’’ he agreed.
Davey Bershin came up the ladder to the flying bridge a moment later, to ask Sarah Child if she wanted to play cards, and she went with him.
Ed Bitter was sorry to see her go, but realized it was probably a good thing. He had been unable to keep his eyes off her, and sooner or later she would have caught him at it.
When they returned to The Plantation at sunset, Dick Canidy spent the evening talking flying with Brandon Chambers, while the others played noisily at Monopoly in the game room. Ed Bitter sat quietly with them, not playing, drinking more than he knew he should, unable to keep his eyes off Sarah Child at the Monopoly board.
When the game was finally over, Ann Chambers got the phonograph going again and walked over to them. She stood there until her father noticed her.
‘‘You need something, honey?’’ he asked.
‘‘No, I’m just standing here with a sad look on my face, waiting to be asked to dance.’’
‘‘You dance with her, Dick,’’ Mr. Chambers said. ‘‘I’m old, fat, and tired, and I’m about to go to bed.’’
Canidy got up. ‘‘I’ll dance with her,’’ he said. ‘‘And then because I’m young and tired, I’m going to bed.’’
What the hell, Ed Bitter thought and went over to Sarah. She stood up and walked to him, as if she had known he would come to her. Her eyes met his, and then she averted them, flushed, and then looked at him again. There was something electric about the look, he thought.
When he put his hands on hers, it was warm, and thirty seconds after he had her in his arms, he actually started to tremble. He could feel the warmth of her belly against him.
When the record was over, he turned her over to Davey Bershin and went to the bar and drank a straight shot of Scotch to see if that wouldn’t calm him down—knowing that drinking was the worst thing he could be doing. The next-worst thing was staying in the room with Sarah, especially since Canidy had made good on his promise to go to bed. Sue-Ellen was gone now too. He had no business here with these kids.
There was a flash of lightning and a moment later a clap of thunder, and he remembered that the convertible was sitting in front of the house with the roof down. After he put the top up, he would go to bed.
He went out the screen door behind the bar to avoid walking through the playroom, then went around the side of the house to the car. He got the boot off and into the trunk and got in the car and started the engine. He had just leaned across the seat to latch the fastener when Sarah Child appeared at the window.
Their eyes met, and this time, although she flushed, she didn’t look away.
‘‘Going for a ride?’’ she asked. Her voice was artificial, as if she were having difficulty controlling it.
‘‘I was just putting the top up,’’ he replied, in a tone as artificial as hers. He could feel his heart beating. ‘‘Would you like to go for a ride?’’
She got in the car and closed the door.
He drove down the dirt road to the airstrip. Neither of them said a word until he had stopped beside the stagger-wing Beech.