"I don't understand the things some people do. It seems they just want to make the people who love them unhappy. Like Laura, going out to sea that day. Cary said he warned her," she mumbled, her eyes on the potatoes she was mashing. "Why did she have to go?'
She wiped her eyes and turned to me.
"You don't have to go, do you, Melody?"
"Yes, Aunt Sara. I have to go or I'll never be able to sleep one single night," I said.
She nodded, wiped away her tears, smiled, and stroked my hair before returning to her work. That was how I left her.
Outside, I sat on a bench and explained my trip to May. She wished she could come along. I promised I would write her letters and post cards every chance I got and I asked her to look after Cary for me while I was away. She promised she would and we embraced and kissed. Then she ran back into the house so I wouldn't see her cry.
I sat there for a while, just enjoying the breeze on my face and watching the thin veil of clouds move in from the sea. I hadn't lived here that long, but my experiences went so deep, it seemed I had lived most of my life by the ocean. The cry of the terns was familiar now, and the colors in the water didn't surprise me as much. In my heart I wa
s no longer an outsider. I welcomed the salty sea air, the roar of the surf, the sand between my toes. Maybe Cary was right, maybe this really was my home, and maybe Grandma Olivia's confidence about my returning came from her intuitive knowledge about me and what was true for me.
I rose and walked out on the beach. Looking toward the dock, I saw the lobster boat had arrived. I hurried over the sand and waved as soon as I drew close enough for Cary to see me. He waved back and then watched me approach. He had his hands on his hips and I knew his sharp sea eyes were fixed on my every move. He came off the boat quickly when I reached the dock.
"What's happening now?" he asked with that tight smile and those deeply penetrating eyes.
Practically without stopping for a breath, I related the day's events and then showed him the catalogue. He was speechless. All he could do was shake his head. He looked back at the boat and then shouted to Roy.
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"No problem," Roy called back.
Cary handed the catalogue back to me and we walked up the beach. He had his hands in his pockets and walked looking down. I had my arms folded under my breasts, my head up, waiting, wondering what words would pass between us.
"You probably won't come back," he finally said. "You'll probably end up living in California."
"That's not true, Cary. Even if--if this is my mother and she has a sensible explanation for all this, I'll still come back to see you and someday--"
"Someday, what?" he said, turning. His eyes were so full of sadness and pain, I couldn't look directly at him. I gazed out at the ocean.
"Someday you and I will have our own home and you'll design boats and--"
"And May will hear and Laura will come in from the sea and my father won't die and my mother will stop crying herself to sleep. Why stop with one pipe dream when there are so many?" he said and turned away, walking quickly back toward the dock.
"Cary!"
He kept walking.
"Cary! I swear, I'll be back. Cary!"
He turned and looked at me. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. At first he let me dangle there. Then he put his arms around my waist and sighed.
"Please, just wish me luck," I said.
He nodded.
"Good luck. I'd come with you if Dad weren't so sick."
"I know you would. I'll call you and write you and--"
He put his finger on my lips
"No promises."
"No promises," I agreed, "except just this one." I kissed him hard and long and then I smiled at him and his eyes warmed. "You can believe in that, Cary Logan, and throw your skepticism overboard."