Read Rowing in Eden for Free Online

her and Tim Gleason regarding the mess that had resulted when one of his dishwashers bungled an attempt to sneak a bottle of Kahlua out the back of the Top Hat Club.
    â€œAccording to Mike, Pynch’s butterflies have been involved in an unusual number of fender-benders this morning,” Rosamund said.
    Don’t mind me. That was the air Franny meant to project as shestarted across the lawn. I’m just heading for the porch, there, don’t mind me.
    â€œBut, say, Fran.”
    She sighed. Turned. Her father wet his lower lip with his tongue. Screwed up one eye, then crooked his index finger to show that she should draw near, he had something to say.
    â€œWhat?”
    The members of the group stood quiet and her father must have noticed, for he gave a stiff laugh before he murmured, “Well, dear, I was just going to say you should give some thought to the way you walk.”
    Franny grinned—a stupid, frozen grin. Then, ears ringing—how strange, the sound was that of the smallest possible silver bells, falling like snowflakes—she started off across the lawn once more.
    â€œAnd, Fran!” Brick again. Again, she turned. “Did you know that Prohaski was here while you were gone?”
    â€œNo,” she said, the word a stone on her tongue, her face so hot she supposed she must appear not just foolish but a liar as well.
    â€œWas he the one in the tight pants?” tittered one of the girls in the coolie hats.
    â€œThose god-awful pants!” Brick shivered his big shoulders up about his ears.
    â€œActually”—Franny’s voice trembled now—“actually, Bob’s family doesn’t have much money. His parents both work at the creamery. Bob just has that one pair of pants.” A slight exaggeration. “Well, he and his brother share another pair.”
    â€œUh-oh!” the girl in the coolie hat grinned. “I think I offended somebody!”
    â€œYeah, you did,” Franny said, but Brick said, now, now, and here came Martie, calling out choo-choo as she crossed the lawn, locomotive style, arms working at her sides:
    â€œHey, people! Que pasa? Why so glum, chums?”
    â€œSh! Martie!” Brick lifted his finger to his lips and his thermal cup toward the branches of the oaks overhead. “Sh. You’re disturbing all the little birdies up in the trees.”
    Automatically, the members of the circle raised their eyes to the branches at which Brick pointed; then they began to laugh as Brick went on in a soft, soft voice, “Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but, at a time like this, when all the little birdies need their naps, it seems to me the thing to do—the really responsible thing to do—is to head on back to the kitchen and make sure that whatever got left in the pitcher there doesn’t go to waste.”

C HAPTER T HREE
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    T HE FOLLOWING M ONDAY MORNING, WHEN F RANNY WOKE IN her bunk bed, she felt slightly blank. Because the guests were gone? She supposed they did add dimension to her life. Borders. And—camouflage, yes, because a person could often hide out in the weekends’ circus atmosphere.
    With a sigh, she flipped her pillow. Flipped herself. Remembered: a Snow White nightmare. She never slept well after dreaming those goofy but horrible things (the evil queen forces Franny/Snow to wear a birdcage over her head, and that birdcage contains a woodpecker and the woodpecker will not stop pecking at Franny/Snow’s head).
    Outside the bedroom’s old double-hung windows, the leaves of the big oaks rustled. Waves slapped the shore. A gang of jays let loose their raucous cries and flashed past like rocks shot from a sling. That crack would have come from the rowboat, tied up at the dock, swinging out to full length on its painter. Eden , Franny had painted on the rear of the boat after the Des Moines girl from down the beach had loaned her an anthology containing