Distant Blood

4

A tall, lanky man and an older woman in a flowing, robelike dress waited for us as we pulled the boat up to a dock. The man had a thick shock of blondish-gray hair, high cheekbones set in a broad, German face, and watery blue eyes. There was no mistaking the familial resemblance between him and Bob Don. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth and he had his narrow hands set on thin hips, watching us expectantly.

The woman was older, in her sixties at least, and she held a small Chihuahua up to her cheek as though it were a puppet. She, too, had the Teutonic countenance I had come to think of as particularly Goertzish, but a warm, gentle smile softened her face. As the boat grew closer she took one of the Chihuahua's tiny paws and waved it in greeting. The dog looked bored with this social nicety and squirmed uncomfortably against the lady's bosom.

Gretchen wiggled fingers at the welcoming party, but tension crinkled her eyes and Bob Don frowned for a moment before replacing his grimace with a grin.

I glanced at Candace. I hoped I didn't look as petrified as I felt. She gave me a hopeful, warm smile. I did my best to return it.

Rufus leaped out of the boat and moored it to the dock. The khaki-clad man didn't offer to help; instead, he lit his cigarette with a battered Zippo lighter and peered at me through the feather of smoke that crept past his weathered face.

We disembarked and I helped Rufus pull our luggage out of the boat. Bob Don shook hands with the man.

“Hey, Cousin Tom. How you doing?” Bob Don was using what I called his “sales pitch” tone: friendly, slightly cajoling, hinting that he'd love to do nothing more than listen to you talk the whole day long. It had moved any number of new and used cars off his lots.

Cousin Tom didn't seem swayed by it. He exhaled a plume of sour smoke and said, “Well, don't you got yourself an entourage this time, Bob Don. How do, Gretchen?” His voice was deep and raspy. He nodded toward Gretchen, who clutched Bob Don's arm and put on her party smile.

“I'm fine, Tom. Hello, Aunt Lolly, how nice to see you!” Gretchen chirped.

Bob Don leaned down and kissed the lined cheek of the lady with the dog. She giggled with glee and kissed him back with a resounding smack on the cheek.

“Bob Don, so good to see you. You, too, Gretchen,” she added with a considerable drop in enthusiasm. She wielded the Chihuahua into Bob Don's face. “Give Sweetie a big oP kiss!”

Bob Don opted instead to pat the tiny critter on the head. I couldn't blame him, as Sweetie's tongue draped out of its mouth in the summer heat.

“Oh, you'll hurt Sweetie's feelings! And him being a blood relation!” The woman, whom I now supposed to be Bob Don's aunt Lolly, frowned and cradled Sweetie in her arms. Tom rolled his eyes in exasperated impatience. Gretchen coughed. The dog was a blood relation? Perhaps I wasn't the only surprise on the family tree.

“Are we the first ones here?” Gretchen ventured to break the sudden silence.

“Not hardly. Everybody else is already up at the house. Uncle Mutt's in rare form. Be warned.” Tom's eyes locked on me in the same calculated scan that Rufus had performed back on the coast. “This him?” His voice hadn't gotten any friendlier.

“Yeah, it is,” Bob Don said, smiling genuinely for the first time in a couple of hours. 'Tom, this is my son, Jordan. Jordan, this is my cousin Tom Bedrich.”

I extended a hand and Tom took it in a macho death grip that went beyond firm. I squeezed back for all I was worth. “Well, you look enough like a Goertz. I guess.” His pale blue eyes went to Candace and a smile touched his lips. It was a grimy grin and I didn't like it one bit. However, I told him I was pleased to meet him.

“And, Jordan, this is my aunt Louisa Goertz Throck-morton. Aunt Lolly, this is my son Jordan.”

Aunt Lolly surprised me with a deep curtsy. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, my dear boy.” She sprang back up, brandishing the dog. “And this is Sweetie, who in a previous life was your great-uncle Charles Throckmorton.”

“Uhhhh-” was the only response that came to mind. My mama didn't raise no social morons, though, so I ignored her announcement about her husband's reincarnation. “It's a real pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Hi, Sweetie,” I improvised, patting the dog's head.

“Oh, my dear, you must call me Aunt Lolly. Everyone does.”

“Okay. Aunt Lolly, Tom, this is my girlfriend, Candace Tully.”

Tom took Candace's hand with considerably more enthusiasm than he had mine. “Pleasure to meet you. Do you go by Candy?”

“Never voluntarily,” Candace said politely.

“Then Candace it is. A lovely name for a very lovely lady.” Tom suddenly seemed aware of his disreputable appearance, dragging a hand across his dirty, worn polo shirt. “Y'all have to forgive my clothes. I've been puttering around the island all afternoon. I didn't mean to be the official welcoming committee, but I saw the boat coming over. I was just heading back to change.” During this monologue his eyes went from Candace back to me. I steeled myself to get stares for the next couple of days. I refused to let myself be rattled and I just gave Tom a noncommittal grin.

I tried to imagine him slicing letters from a magazine to construct pronouncements of hate, or smearing blood across an innocent greeting card. Tom I could see doing it; Aunt Lolly I couldn't. She seemed ditzy but basically harmless.

“Well, welcome to the family, Jordan. Let's get y'all settled.” Tom grabbed Gretchen's bag and headed toward the house.

“Would you like to carry Sweetie, darling?” Lolly asked Candace. My own sweetie smiled and took the dog, holding it close. One stray paw touched Candace's left breast, and Lolly smirked.

“Oh, Sweetie! He was just that awful when he was Charles. Bad, bad boy!” She waggled a finger in her pooch's face, who eyed it with utter disdain.

Candace smiled politely in agreement, deferring to Aunt Lolly's more cosmic knowledge, and shot me a look of desperation. I was too busy shooting one at Bob Don, who just smiled and shrugged.

We followed Tom, like sheep listing after a herder. I don't think Sweetie got a chance to grope Candace again.

We walked up and past the stretch of dunes, heading toward the main house. It stood on the barrier flat of the island, grassy and weedy with plants. Wildflowers-rosy salt-marsh morning glory with arrowhead leaves, a bed of bluebells, a wooden post twining violet with butterfly pea- made bright explosions of color. Grasses of different varieties sprouted along the path leading up to the house, much of it knee-high. Not far from the house was a large greenhouse, where I could see even more plants profusing. A well-maintained porch wrapped around the entire big, white house, with wicker furniture so guests could sit and enjoy a cooling breeze off the bay.

Bob Don gestured toward the greenhouse and spoke to Rufus. “Jake and Mutt pottering away?”

Rufus shook his head. “Not much lately. Mutt's too busy for hobbies and Jake's feeling a little peaked.”

“Mutt needs a new hobby,” I heard Lolly mutter.

As we went up the steps, I thought: Here we go. Your life's never going to be quite the same again. You'll never think of family quite the same again. I half expected that if I glanced over my shoulder, I'd see Mama and Daddy, standing by the dock, waving goodbye to me. I was a Poteet-I would always be a Poteet-but none of that would matter to these folks. I would be a part of whatever strange collective history the Goertzes had formed, the intangible web of love and hurt that binds families together.

An attractive young woman, dark-eyed and dark-haired, greeted us in the front entrance. She gave a hearty kiss on the cheek to Bob Don and a tight, affectionate hug to Gretchen. “Aunt Gretchen, you look wonderful!” I could see the happy light in Gretchen's face; had she heard that often from the Goertzes when she was lost in her alcoholic fog? Even before Bob Don could introduce me, the young woman was already kissing my cheek.

“Jordan! It's so great to meet you! I'm your cousin Deborah Goertz.” She held me at arm's length for a moment, eyeing me critically. “And isn't it a shame we're kin? You're just too cute.”

Embarrassed, I managed to laugh and introduced Can-dace, who was then treated to another warm Deborah reception-a kiss on the cheek and a cheery hug. “And Bob Don didn't tell us you had such a pretty girlfriend. I'm so glad you're here. There's not many folks around our age. Except Aubrey, who I swear acts like he's sixty anyway. Old fuddy.” Her voice, warm and sweet like caramel, could reduce men to abject slavery. I liked her immediately and could tell Candace did, too.

“If you are quite done being the Welcome Wagon, Deb,” Aunt Lolly intoned, reproof in her voice, “perhaps you'd show Jordan and Candace to their rooms. Bob Don and Gretchen, y'all are in your regular room at the end of the hall. Why don't y'all get settled and then join us down here for cocktails? Then we'll all get acquainted and eat.” She patted me on the arm, smiled wanly at Candace, and glided from the room like a spirit. Only the vague smell of her cit-rusy perfume declared she'd been in the room.

Deborah made a wrinkled face at her aunt's departing form. “Speaking of old fuddies-she needs a little more sugar in her diet.” She grabbed Candace's bag. “Follow me, troops.”

The stairway she led us up was dark, in stark contrast to the glaring summer light outside. The banister was heavy and worn by several decades' worth of sliding palms. The stairs bent at the second floor, then bent again to rise to the third. The house must be older than I originally thought, built perhaps in the last century. The floor, the walls, the stairs all held an enclosing permanence that felt choking. It was not an airy house and an invisible denseness pressed against my skin. Deborah kept up a line of patter all the way up the stairs. “So you've already met Tom and Lolly- anyone else yet?”

“Rufus,” I answered.

“Ah. Uncle Mutt's marionette. Rufus is okay, but he's not one of the world's great thinkers.” Deborah paused at the second-floor landing, one hand on an ornate orb of wood on the staircase. “And have you made the acquaintance of Aunt Sass yet?”

“No, but we've heard quite a lot about her,” I answered.

“You can't hear about Sass-one has to experience her.” Deborah's grin was wry, but I thought I detected a flicker of pain across her features. “Aunt Sass glues this family together.”

“Blood can be as sticky as glue,” Candace offered unexpectedly. A quick glance told me she was studying Deborah intently, perhaps to see if the mention of blood rattled her.

Apparently it didn't. “Isn't blood what holds a family together?” Deborah shrugged. She sauntered up the steps; I figured she'd misinterpreted Candace's comment.

The third floor held several bedrooms-Deborah indicated her own guest quarters were down the hall, and Aunt Lolly's room was here as well. “She likes to be close to heaven,” Deborah observed while opening a door and gesturing us inside. “Here's y'all's digs. Hope they're comfortable.”

The room was nice, furnished with antique pieces and a braided navy-and-gray rug. Some undetermined wild-flower-lavender in shade-stood in a vase. A mirror, one crack scarring its surface, sat mounted on the wall like a diseased eye. A window opened up to a view over the bay. A small bathroom and large closet completed the room.

“I hope you like it. This is a room I used to stay in when we'd visit when I was little. I asked Uncle Mutt to give it to y'all special. I wanted y'all to feel welcome.” She smiled warmly.

“Thanks very much,” I said. “I'm sure we'll be really comfortable, Deborah.”

“We want you to be, Jordan,” she said softly. “I mean, I'm sure this is very odd for you. It's odd for us, as well. The family, I mean.” A sudden grip of inarticulateness made her flip her palms up, then down. “I don't have the words. I'm so very fond of Uncle Bob Don. I just am glad to know you've found him. I know he'll be a wonderful father to you.”

My throat felt tight. Found him. Wonderful father.

“You didn't tell us what you do, Deborah. Jordan's a librarian, and I run a little restaurant in Mirabeau. How about you?” Candace stayed close to me, watching my new cousin.

“Oh, I'm a nurse. In Corpus Christi. But I do get to visit Uncle Mutt and Uncle Jake a lot here at the house. Aunt Lolly I can do without.” She grimaced even at merest mention of her aunt's name.

“Nursing must be very rewarding work,” Candace proceeded. My tongue felt stapled to the roof of my mouth.

“Oh, it is. Listen, I need to get a few things done before cocktails and dinner. It's not dressy. Come as you are.” She started sidling for the door. “I am really happy to meet you both-”

“Deborah, listen,” Candace interrupted. “Would it be too much trouble for me to get my own room? I'd feel better about being here if I wasn't sleeping in Jordan's room, what with meeting his family and all for the first time.”

A prickle of anger contracted her eyes for a moment, as if Candace's request was a personal jab. Then her face softened and she said, “Of course. Bob Don had just said that y'all were quite the item, so I assumed-forgive my bad manners. There's an extra room at the end of the hall, Candace, and I'll make it up for you.”

“Oh, please, don't go to any trouble, Deborah. Point me in the direction of the sheets and I'll do the work.”

“Don't be silly. For a nurse, making a bed with fresh sheets is second nature.” She rubbed Candace's arm kindly and gave me another smile. “I'll see y'all downstairs for drinks. Tom makes a mean margarita, if you like 'em tart.” Deborah left, closing the door behind her.

“I like her,” I said, sitting down on the bed.

“I like her, too,” Candace said, “and it worries me no end.”

“Why?”

“Because right now I don't want to like any of these people.” Candace sat next to me and draped her arms around my shoulders. “Because one of these people is sending bloodied letters to my baby. I don't want to trust any of them until we know who that is.”

“We're not sure it's someone here on the island,” I offered.

“Then who else? Someone who's not at the reunion doesn't want you here? That makes no sense. And I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know who that is.”

I smiled at her determination to protect me from harm. I'm six feet two, a hundred and eighty pounds, and exercise regularly-Candace doesn't even come to my shoulders. But I pitied the fool who crossed her.

“If you're not letting me out of your sight, hon, why'd you ask for your own room?” I stretched out lazily on the bed, allowing myself to relax for the first moment since setting foot on Sangre Island. I ran a hand down her spine.

She squirmed away, playfully slapping my hand away. “First, I don't give a crap about appearances. But second, whoever's terrorizing you-”

“They're not terrorizing me, I'm not scared of that fool,” I interjected.

She forged ahead. “-will be watching you like a hawk probably, looking for a way to strike at you. Me being down the hall gives us another vantage point to watch over your ass. When you're in your room, that hallway is mine. No one's going to get near your room without me knowing.” She swatted said ass when I stood and reached for her.

“So you're baiting the trap with me and just me, while you watch from a safe distance?” I teased.

“Something like that.” She pressed herself into my arms. Her breath was short and she began to trace a fine web of delight on my back with her fingertips.

I kissed her, and the world seemed far away. I wished this house was empty and it was only the two of us alone on this island, surrounded by the comforting arms of the sea. And that we'd never heard of Goertz millions, gore-speckled letters, or murdered sailors on a beach.