Sweet Mercy by Ann Tatlock Read Free Book Online Page A

of people still had money.
    With the official arrival of summer, our jitney bus added several runs to its usual back-and-forth route between the lodge and the train station. Sometimes I’d ride along to greet the guests and make them feel welcome, one of my favorite jobs. I enjoyed chatting with our jitney driver, a kindly Negro man by the name of Morris Tweed. He was the husband of one of our cooks, Annie Tweed, whose infectious laughter permeated the kitchen, sweet as the cinnamon rolls she baked up fresh every morning.
    I didn’t have any one job at the lodge; each day I simply did what needed doing. I helped Mother and Daddy in theEatery. I washed dishes with Annie; I waited tables, cleaned rooms, put freshly washed linens away in the linen closet. I swept the front porch, made change for boat rentals, showed guests to their rooms. When those who had driven to the lodge asked about a car wash, I directed them to the service station across the street, owned and operated by an old friend of Uncle Cy’s by the name of Calvin Fludd. In my spare time, I was allowed to enjoy the island or walk into town or join a game of croquet or volleyball on the lawn.
    Never had I been so happy and at peace. Occasionally I thought about my old life and the friends I’d left behind, especially my best friend Ariel, who wrote me weepy letters about how much she missed me. I missed her too, and yet, that life seemed far away and like the torn edges of an early morning dream. The lodge and the island were my real life. This was the place I was meant to be, and I had little desire to look back at what I’d left behind.
    On our first Saturday in Mercy, I was enjoying an early afternoon swim when I saw Marlene. She waved at me from the shore and then splashed her way to my side.
    â€œI see you’ve finally braved the water,” she said with a laugh.
    â€œYes. It’s wonderful!”
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t remember your name.”
    â€œI don’t think I ever told you. It’s Eve. Eve Marryat. And you’re Marlene, right?”
    â€œYes, Marlene Quimby. For a little while, anyway.”
    She took a deep breath and sank beneath the surface then came up shaking water off her curls. She threw up her arms and said, “You know what’s really wonderful, Eve?”
    I had to smile at her enthusiasm. “No, what?” I asked.
    â€œI’m free!” She pushed up on her toes and floated on her back, her face lifted to the sun.
    â€œWhat do you mean, you’re free?”
    â€œI have officially graduated. The ceremony was yesterday. I am finished with school forever!” She kicked her feet and paddled around in circles.
    â€œGood for you,” I said. “So what will you do now?”
    â€œGet married, I hope.”
    â€œGet married?” I echoed. “Are you crazy?”
    â€œYes, yes, yes, I’m crazy!” she cried, emphasizing each word with a splash of her arms. “Crazy for my boy Jimmy.”
    â€œBut you’re too young to get married.”
    She stopped paddling, looked at me, and laughed again. “I’m eighteen! I’m old enough. How old are you?”
    â€œSeventeen.”
    â€œSo you haven’t graduated?”
    â€œNo, I have one more year.”
    She poked out her lower lip playfully. “Poor you.”
    I shrugged. “After high school, I intend to go to college.”
    â€œWhatever for?”
    â€œTo earn a degree.”
    â€œA degree in what?”
    â€œI don’t know yet. Something that helps people.”
    â€œPhooey!” she said. “You’ll end up getting married like everyone else.”
    I frowned and shook my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to get married. I intend to have a career.”
    She sank under the water and popped up again. “Well, Eve Marryat,” she said, “I’ve just learned something about