Page 23 of In the Pursuit of Haven
What a name to try to live down! Even Nathanial Hawthorne couldn’t stand being related to one of the worst witch trial judges in history and he’d put a “W” in his name just to be different. I wondered if Robert had the same problem.
“Robert and Matthew are best friends, Haven, and Robert had no other way to see me! I just didn’t know how much he cared about me, but apparently he’s been trying to visit me for ages, but Mother doesn’t approve, says he’s bad blood.
“I thought you’d be different. And I’m shocked how you treated Matthew! That’s not how it’s done here! You can talk bad all you want about people in the privacy of your own home, but you can’t say that to their faces! And… well, okay, fine, I’ve got a lot to learn from you, I know! Perhaps I could be bolder, but I warned you about not flying to my defense like that cyclone you turn into!
“Oh, you’re worse than a cyclone. A tsunami! I just can’t believe you threw your drink in Matthew’s face. And to accuse him of stealing our family’s property? Do you think before you do anything? Leon couldn’t stop laughing, of course. I can’t believe Matthew brought that idiot along. You might never live that down, you know! Leon’s got a big mouth. And it certainly won’t stop Matthew from ever returning here again because in case you failed to notice, Matthew couldn’t keep his eyes off of you after that.
“You started something, Haven!
“And if you drag me into this or try to blame sweet Robert for what his best friend’s father did, I’ll dig out all your favorite romance novels you try to hide from me under your pillow and chuck them into the ocean. Don’t think I won’t! Just drop anything to do with the Crabbs. Matthew’s certainly not worth it!
… although I can’t stop laughing. You really were too horrible. Girl… you started something.”
A love-hate relationship, huh? Honestly, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect for Haven.
And she’d accused Matthew of stealing the family’s property. Was that how it came to be in his possession? Maybe she wasn’t too far off. When had her romantic soul overridden her good sense?
“Oh, Haven, I’m so sorry!” I breathed out. I knew how much it hurt when reality slapped you in the face after you came down from the clouds. What kind of schemes had Haven tried to get back her family’s property? I pushed my knuckles into the quilt in sudden realization.
This possibly mightnotbe a love story, after all.
The next letter was from Matthew. I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t—the print was bold and clumsy like a bear trying to balance a pen in his paw. Jessie’s writing looked similar. A sentimental smile tried to find its way to my face and I scowled it down as I quickly read through the letter:
“Haven, I didn’t have the chance to thank you for that refreshingly cold drink. What was that flavor anyway? Orange mango? So original, exactly like you are.
“I’ve written to break the news that we’ve been invited to be chaperones to Robert and Felicity’s boating expedition to Cape Cod. If you have the guts, meet me at the Salem Wharf at high noon—isn’t that how the old cowboys say? If you don’t show, I’ll suspect you’ve lost your ability to put me in my place.
“And bring lots of juice and your best aim; I’ve acquired a taste for it.
“Most sincerely, Matthew Crabb
“PS: Robert sends his highest regards on to Felicity. I told him I’d give you a kiss to pass onto her.”
Wow. I fell back against the pillows. Felicity had it right—Matthew was absolutely smitten. Did Haven feel the same, or was she just toying with him to get him back for everything his family had ever done to hers?
I peeled open one of Felicity’s cutesy little folded up square letters next:
“You like him! You like him. You like him. Admit it, Haven. I don’t care what you say. A girl doesn’t just snuggle up against a guy she hates, no matter how cold she is. Nuh uh.”
I pressed my chin into my palm. I was so hooked to this story:
“PS: It wasn’t a degree below eighty yesterday. You can’t fool me with your excuses.
“PSS: Don’t tell my mother about Robert kissing me. She’d kill us both. Robert says that he wants to take me to Paris on our honeymoon. Isn’t he dreamy?”
He was, actually, or at the very least, a romantic—worlds different from his Corwin ancestors.
“PSSS: Leon is green with jealousy. I think he likes you too!”
That was it! I had to see for myself what these people looked like. Abandoning the letters for the moment, I rushed to the closet, searching for anything that would show me who was who.
I tugged out photo albums, society papers, anything I could get my hands on… yacht club flyers, announcing their teams for the year. Ha! There was only one reason Haven would have kept these.
I found Robert on a page folded back on the society papers; it showed him pinning a corsage to his mother’s dress. Haven—or maybe Felicity—had circled his name on there. He was exactly the sweetie I’d imagined with his fair hair slicked back, and even a little dimple on his chin. That was about all the detail I could make out in the black-and-white spread, though I also noticed he towered over his mother.
I discovered Felicity next. She was in the photo album, laughing brightly with Haven in multiple Polaroids. My aunt was definitely into scrapbooking back then. She’d written their names on the side and decorated their page with star and rainbow stickers.
Haven looked pretty much the same in her early twenties as she had from my first memories of her, though perhaps skinnier with smoother, paler skin. She was a blonde bombshell with blue eyes and long legs, while Felicity had dark, almost black hair the same color of her eyes.
