"How long have you been here?"
"Just a few seconds. I'm sorry. I didn't want to interrupt," I said.
"It's okay. Perfect timing. I just finished," he said, rising. "Come, take a look."
I stepped closer and gazed at the beautiful, sleek sailboat he'd been working on. He had just painted Melody on the hull. Surprised, I looked up at him.
"It's for you," he said.
"Really? Oh, it's beautiful, Cary."
"The engineering of its shape is my creation. If you look closely," he said, "you'll see two people inside the cabin. That's us."
I leaned over and peered through the cabin window. There were a tiny man and a woman standing beside each other, gazing into each other's eyes.
"It's so precious," I said softly, my breath catching in my throat.
"After it dries I'll bring it to your room," he said. "You can keep it on the shelf by your bed."
"Thank you, Cary. I'll always cherish it. Did you ever give anyone else a boat you made?" I asked.
Curiosity had gotten the best of me. I should have smothered the question, for I saw it brought back unpleasant memories.
"I gave one to Laura once, but she didn't think it was that special," he said turning away. "She was seeing Robert Royce then," he added, as if that explained everything.
"I didn't see it in the room," I said.
"That's because it's not there."
"Where is it?"
"Floating some place in the ocean," he said dryly. "Where's May?"
"Organizing her new sea shells," I said.
"Good."
"She told me she has a boyfriend," I told him.
"What?" He smiled. "A boyfriend? Our May?"
"Yes, really. There's a boy at school who likes her. She was full of questions about boys and love."
"Did you have the answers?"
"Some. She wanted to know how you know you're in love," I told him.
A small smile crossed his lips and a twinkle came into his eyes.
"What did you say?"
"I told her I didn't know for sure. It was different for everyone," I said, trying not to meet his eyes. "Then she wanted to know how babies are made. Apparently, your mother hasn't told her anything."
"What did you tell her?" he asked with some trepidation.
"The truth," I said. "Not in great detail, of course, but the basics at least. She's becoming a young woman, Cary. It's time she understood what was happening to her body and what could happen, don't you think?"
"I can't think of anyone I'd rather have tell her about it," he said after a moment's thought.