Neither of them spoke after they’d gotten into the car. Marc drove to The Family Center. He glanced over to her and gave a small smile when she gasped in pleasure. A painted blue, brown and ivory sign had been placed next to the entrance.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Marc said as he parked the car and nodded toward the freshly painted sign. “Liam had to get back to work, but when he heard about the Center, he wanted to do something. He commissioned Joe Brown to make it before he left Harbor Town. Joe left him a message saying he installed it Saturday.”
Mari was too amazed to speak. They got out of the car and went to examine the sign. Joe had included a small landscape in the corner of the sign, a dune and a sunset. Mari recognized the vista off Silver Dune. Beneath the name of the organization and contact information, a two-word quote had been added.
“Choose hope,” she whispered. After several seconds, she glanced up at Marc. He watched her, his eyes like two steady beacons beckoning her to shore. Her throat ached when she swallowed. “I need to make sure I get Liam’s number from you. This was so wonderful of him.”
Marc nodded and grabbed her hand. They took a rough path through evergreen, oak and maple until the tree line broke and they walked out onto the dune. Lake Michigan looked periwinkle blue beneath the fiery orange, sinking sun. When they reached the end of the dune, Mari turned toward him. She nodded toward the water in the vicinity of where they’d sat in the boat and watched the sun rising several days ago.
“We’re back on the shore now,” she said quietly. “Watching the sunset again.”
His hand came up to cradle her jaw. He whisked his thumb across her cheek. “Sunrise. Sunset. They’re all good, as long as you’re here.”
Mari distantly wondered if her throat would ever stop aching. Lately it seemed to be constantly swelling with emotion. “It’s been a difficult trip…coming back to Harbor Town,” she murmured.
“Mari, about what Colleen said in the hospital…I know it upset you. But Colleen was worried—”
“I know,” Mari said rapidly. She turned toward the lake, missing Marc’s caress when her motion caused his hand to fall away. “Of course she was upset. I would have been, too, given the circumstances. It’s completely natural.”
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Marc stiffen. “So why have you been avoiding me for the past few days?”
“I needed to think,” Mari said, her gaze on the dancing waves of the silver-blue lake.
He didn’t speak for several seconds. When she glanced over at him, she saw his mouth had drawn into a straight line. She’d never seen Marc look so grim. Somehow he’d guessed what she was about to say.
“Don’t do this, Mari.”
“One of us has to,” she said in a hushed voice. “I was right. It would never work, you and me.”
“It does work,” he said, putting his hand on her upper arm. “It always has!”
“For us,” Mari replied, just as heatedly. “It works for us, Marc. But we’re not the only two people on the planet. There are other people…other lives we have to take into account.”
“I don’t accept that. We’re not hurting anyone by being together. What happened with my mother was scary for everyone, but that had nothing to do with you starting The Family Center or us being together. It had everything to do with the fact that she’s been ignoring her physical health. I’ve had a long conversation with her about it. She’s agreed to take her medication now and follow the doctor’s treatment advice.”
“I spoke with Brigit, as well.”
He paused for two heartbeats. “You did? About what?” he asked warily.
“She seems to be of the opinion that you want me this much because I was the one thing you never could have.”
“And you believed her?” Marc asked, anger entering his tone.
“No…at least not totally.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Not totally?”
She paused for a moment, gathering herself. She waved toward the edge of the dune in the distance.
“Do you remember us standing there on the end of this dune together? It would have been fifteen summers ago. Just weeks before the crash, if I’m not mistaken.”
He didn’t respond to her quiet question, but she sensed the tension coiling in his muscles.
“I was terrified,” she said softly. “Literally. I still have a fear of heights, you know. But I jumped. Do you know why?”
She turned to look at him, but he still didn’t speak. She hated seeing the rigid, hard lines of his face cast in the crimson rays of the dying sun. His eyes were usually so alive when he looked at her, but at that moment, they looked cold with dread.
“Because, once upon a time, I would have followed Marc Kavanaugh anywhere. Anywhere,” she added fervently. She shook her head sadly. “But things changed. And I’m not a child anymore. I have others to consider.”