A Sea Change (19 page)

He was already walking to the door, and she followed. “What about Mary?”

“I’ll pick her up after I get Becky.”

“What about me?” she asked. “I want to go, too.”

Nick impatiently stood in the open doorway, and said, “There’s not enough room in the truck for you.”

“Then we can take my car. I want to be there with Mary.”

They drove to Federal Way, the halfway point between Seattle and Tacoma, in a silence that on a good day would be called uncomfortable.  Maddy swung into the Denny’s parking lot, and Nick said, “Pull up next to the white Lexus.”

As she put the Volvo in park, his hand was already on the door handle. Maddy finally said, “Look Nick, I know you’re stressed, but I wish you’d quit acting like I’ve done something wrong. This isn’t my fault.”

“Can we talk about this later?” he said, climbing out.

Maddy turned to look out the windshield, her jaw clenched, and Nick stopped. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the gearshift knob. And then he noticed Janet’s irate face peering at him.

“Damn it, Maddy, you have no idea what I’m dealing with here.”

Maddy felt, more than saw, Nick leave the car, and her anxiety grew.

What
you’re
dealing with!
The heat in the car became stifling.
What
you’re
dealing with? I’m meeting your daughter for the first time.

Nick came into view as he passed in front of the Volvo, and she distinctly heard Janet say, “Some emergency, Nick.”

“Give me a break, Janet,” he replied. Then, in a completely different voice, said, “Hi, sweetie. Grab your bag and let’s hit the road.”

Maddy took a cleansing breath and tried to relax enough to paste a smile on her face, but Janet’s twang reached her again, and Maddy realized the woman was standing a couple of feet behind the driver’s-side door.

“If your
friend’s
spending the weekend, too, I’ll be calling Tom Donaldson. And I won’t wait until Monday.”

The back door of the Volvo opened, and Nick said, “Hop in, Becky, and say hi to Maddy.”

As soon as the door closed he lowered his voice and hissed, “Don’t threaten me with lawyers, Janet. At least I’m not a married man doing someone else’s wife.”

Maddy’s anxiety level had risen to a fever pitch. She could intuit the exchange between Nick and Janet, while at the same time she tried to greet Becky with some modicum of self-possession. It wasn’t working.

And then Becky suddenly said, “You’re the camera lady!” and grinned widely.

Despite the missing front tooth, the girl’s smile reminded Maddy so much of Nick, she grinned back and said, “And you’re the singing mermaid.”

Maddy’s unease around “short people” – as she called children – returned as soon as the last word was out of her mouth, and she fervently wished Nick would finish his snipe-fest with his ex-wife and get back in the car.

Desperate to make conversation with Becky, and to shield her ears from Nick and Janet’s exchange, Maddy dipped into her limited vat of standard kid questions: “So, how old are you?” and “What grade are you in?” and “How do you like school?” Just as she’d hit the bottom of the barrel - and was about to pull out “Do you like to read?” Nick slid into the front seat and slammed the door.

Rolling his head from side to side to relieve the knot in his neck Janet always managed to put there, Nick finally said, “Let’s get the hell out of Dodge,” and then turned to his daughter. “So, did you introduce yourself to Maddy?”

“We already met,” Becky said. “We’ve actually chatted several times. On the beach, y’know.”

Maddy smiled in spite of herself. Nick looked at her and said, “She’s eight going on thirty.”

“Comes from being an only child,” Maddy said, accelerating down the freeway ramp. “They’re more comfortable around adults, so they pick up the language.”

Amused, Nick said, “And you know all about that, being an only child yourself.”

Becky’s voice piped up from the back, and Maddy thought she’d been spared further scrutiny, until she heard the question, “Are you my daddy’s girlfriend?” Maddy didn’t dare look at Nick, and certainly didn’t know how to answer.

He made her sweat it out for a couple of seconds before saving her. “Maddy’s a girl, and she’s my friend,” he said. “So, I guess that makes her my girlfriend.”

“Do you kiss her?”

It was Maddy’s turn to be entertained, and she glanced at Nick. He appeared to be pondering the question, but didn’t seem at all perturbed by it, and she was disappointed. Then he leaned toward Maddy and took her chin in his hand. Before she had a chance to react, his lips met hers. He let her go with a grin, and said, “Does that answer your question, Becks?”

Becky’s reply was a delighted giggle, then she asked, “Where’s your truck, Daddy? How come Maddy’s driving?”

“It would’ve been too crowded.”

“Nuh-uh…we’d all fit in the front.”

Nick turned to face his daughter. “We need to talk about something serious, okay?” He paused. “Mary got pretty sick yesterday. We had to take her to the hospital.”

Maddy looked in the rearview mirror. Becky’s face had lost its joy. Maddy wanted to say something to take away her fear, but knew it was Nick’s job.

“Can we see her, Daddy?”

“Well, that’s the good news. The doctor said she’s better, and we’re going to pick her up.” He reached back to caress her cheek. “And since Maddy’s her friend, too, she wanted to come.”

“And that’s why we’re in Maddy’s car, huh?”

“You got it.”

“What’s wrong with Mary?”

“Something with her heart, sweetie.”

“Did it break?”

Nick smiled. “No, baby. Mary’s strong. The only thing that could break her heart is not seeing your smiling face today.” He turned to the front again to stare at the freeway ahead.

Maddy’s own heart contracted. With her eyes on the road, she blindly felt her way along his thigh until her hand found his. Nick’s fingers intertwined with hers, and stayed that way until they reached the hospital.

Cha
pter Nineteen

Mary allowed Nick to help her across the deck. Then, shaking off his hand, she said, “I’m not an invalid. I can walk into my home on my own power, Nick.”

The fireboat that brought Mary from the waterfront to Salmon Beach roared to life and took off up the Narrows, leaving a heavy wake, and then silence. Maddy and Becky watched the boat until it disappeared. None of them had anticipated the orders from the doctor.

Mary, though, had already heard his final words on the subject of the steps at Salmon Beach. “You’ll need to seriously think about moving,” he’d said. “Your heart won’t stand the strain of those stairs anymore.”

Leave Salmon Beach? It was unthinkable in the extreme.

Mary stopped in the middle of the kitchen, while Nick took her small case into the bedroom. Becky’s thin arms wrapped themselves around her thighs, hugging her tightly. She looked down at the girl, smiling. “Tomorrow we’ll start work on the project we talked about.”

“What project?” Nick asked, returning to lean his elbows on the counter. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“It’s a secret, Daddy.”

Mary winked at him. “You’ll have to trust me, Nick. It’s nothing strenuous.” She bent and kissed the top of Becky’s head. “Where did Madeleine go?”

Nick looked out the glass door. Maddy stood at the edge of the deck, staring out at the water. “I think she’s having a tough time with this.”

Mary disengaged herself from Becky’s hug and turned toward the door.

“I’ll get her for you,” Nick said.

“No. Let me speak with her alone.” Mary slowly made her way across the deck until she stood beside Maddy. “We have another beautiful day to be thankful for,” she said.

Maddy nodded, then said, “What are you going to do, Mary?”

“I’m going to have a cup of tea, then lie down for a little while.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Mary smiled. “I know it’s not, dear.” She paused to pick a few dead flower heads off a marigold plant. “Madeleine, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll take the pills the doctor gave me, and I’ll rest every day.”

“But you aren’t going to leave the beach, are you.” It was an accusation.

“Never,” Mary stated.

Maddy finally turned and put her arms around Mary. “I don’t want to lose you. I just found you.”

“Yes, I know.” Mary stroked Maddy’s hair. She could feel it starting: a powerful sensation of knowing. “I’ll be with you as long as you need me. I promise you that, Madeleine.” She gently pushed her away. “Now, I really do need to put my feet up.”

Maddy kissed Mary’s cheek. Tried to smile.

“And, Madeleine, you have to make me a promise.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t let my human frailty interfere with what you’ve started. You have a lot of lost time to make up for. I want to see the Madeleine who’s been hiding all these years come out of hibernation.”

“I’m not sure she’s still at this address, but I’ll try and find her.”

Arm in arm, they walked back inside.

As Nick ushered Maddy and Becky out, he turned to Mary and said, “I know you’re not going to listen to your doctor. About the beach, anyway. And I’ll do everything I can to help you stay, Mary. But if it means your life, I can be just as stubborn as you can. Understand?”

“Understood. And thank you for everything, Nick. Your love is very precious to me.”

Mary closed the door behind them and sighed deeply. There was much to do, but she was worn out. She made her way to the kitchen to put the water on, and then sank into the wingback chair with her cup of Darjeeling Blend. She was asleep three sips later.

From afar, the man in her dream was quite beautiful. He seemed to float above the path as he walked, and for a moment she thought he was her John come back for her and Mary called his name. But when he stood before her, she saw he looked nothing like her husband. This stranger’s beauty didn’t diminish with close scrutiny, yet the perfect symmetry of his face was unsettling.

His lips smiled, but his dark eyes didn’t. There was a burning in them that spoke of loss, defeat. And of a buried pain.

They studied each other as adversaries. When he opened his mouth to speak, Mary covered her ears with her hands. She knew whatever he had to say would be harmful. It was then she saw why the face disturbed her so. It wasn’t perfect after all. There was a small scar above his eye. His nose seemed slightly off-center.

Mary felt the threat he posed, but it wasn’t physical. There was an emotion tied to him which she couldn’t name. And it was connected to Madeleine.

This foresight moved Mary to speak. “Go away,” she said. “You don’t belong here.”

His voice – hollow – reached her ears anyway. “I found her,” he said. “She’s mine.”

Mary woke, tears of fear clinging to the rims of her eyes. As she sat up, they spilled over her cheeks. She couldn’t comfort herself with the words “only a dream.” It seemed like so much more.

The afternoon sun glinted off the Narrows, sending sharp sparks of white light through the windows. It was the time of day Mary did her best work. Today, the light was painful, and she slowly got out of the chair to walk to the front of her house, and her bathroom.

A cool washcloth soothed her. As she hung the cloth over the towel rod, Mary tried to push the man’s image from her mind with another vision.

She reran the picture of her three friends leaving earlier, and remembered her thoughts: how like a young family they were. She loved seeing Nick with his daughter. That relationship had been forged eight years ago and it would never be broken. Not by anything less than an act of God, anyway.

Mary smiled.

Nick with Madeleine made her heart glad, but the links that connected them were so tenuous. One strong tug and they’d come apart. There wasn’t enough holding them. If they didn’t make a stronger alliance soon, what was coming would surely cause a severe rift in their collective souls.

Her smile faded.

There was no doubt in Mary’s mind something harsh and rending was on its way. She’d felt it in Madeleine’s body as she’d held her – a sudden, electrifying tremor of something irregular. She knew it from her dream. Something back from a very long exodus. Something that was part of Madeleine.

But what this thing – who this man – was, Mary didn’t know, and this clouded uncertainty made her feel powerless.

Journal Entry

July 8

It’s a little past 8 p.m., and I’m sitting out on the deck writing this. Another perfect day. It must be 70 degrees right now. Twilight is just setting in, but I won’t have to turn on a light for at least another hour. This is what I love most about the Northwest: the endless summer nights. But the long, beautiful evenings make it hard to be alone. I always want to share them with someone.

I had Mary over for dinner earlier. She seems to be doing better, but I’ve noticed her staring at me a lot more. It’s like she’s trying to puzzle something out. Or she’s waiting for me to tell her something. I’m not sure what she expects me to say. It’s not like I have any momentous news to report. But when I ask her why she’s doing it, she just shakes her head.

I’ve taken to accompanying her everywhere. I walked her over here. Walked her home. I think a lot of the other residents are doing the same. Yesterday, I did her grocery shopping. She has a doctor appointment the end of this week. The
QVII
is still moored at the public dock, which means I’ll need to move her down here before Friday.

I haven’t really seen Nick since we brought Mary home. He was with Becky Sunday and I didn’t want to impose myself on them. But she’s gone now, and I miss him. I’m not sure why he goes into these seclusions.

It was interesting watching him interact with Janet. My first impression is she’s the Ex-Wife From Hell. Surely that can’t be completely true. He married her so she must’ve been someone he could love. I wonder what happened. Something he said to her sticks in my mind: “Your reputation doesn’t exactly sparkle.” Does that mean she “done
him
wrong”? I realize no one’s perfect, but how could she have had someone like Nick and cheated on him?

Becky’s a sweet little girl. Funny, and smart, too. She has Nick’s coloring, and really looks like him, but there’s enough Janet in her to make her feminine. She’s a real talker. The subjects were wide and varied, and sometimes hilarious. Apparently, she’s the catcher on her Little League team, and she has the position down pat. When I asked her what catchers
really
say to pitchers on the mound she said, “Well, sometimes we talk about what kind of pizza we’re going to have after the game. But most of the time I just say, ‘Throw strikes or the coach is gonna kick your butt.’” I laughed out loud at that one, and asked where she’d learned those particular tricks. She looked at me kinda funny, and said, “My Daddy, of course,” as if I couldn’t be more dense. Nick wasn’t around, so I couldn’t get the lowdown, but it got me curious.

I was surprised at how easy it was for me to be around her. Not my usual M.O. with kids. Most of the time they make me nervous. When I was younger I used to say I didn’t like children. Maybe I said it for shock value. Actually, I deal with kids the way I deal with adults. It all boils down to personality. Either I like them or I don’t. Has nothing to do with their size.

But Mom’s answer to my statement was always, “It’d be different with your own. You’d love them, no matter what.”

I suppose that’s true. But if I had to analyze myself I’d say it all comes down to seeing what Mom and Dad did to Danny and then never, ever wanting to put myself in a position of doing that to any human being.

Oh, sure, there was a brief moment in my early 30’s when I wanted a daughter. I felt the need to have someone carry on family traditions, and my grandmother’s recipes. Someone to leave all my worldly possessions to. Someone to take care of me in my old age. A grandchild for my mother.

I finally came to the conclusion that none of those were the right reasons for having a child. You should create a child with someone you love; someone you know loves you. The decision to have a child comes with respect and permanence. (As much permanence as we’re allowed in this world.) I think I understood, even back then, I didn’t have that with Ted.

I admire people who
do
have kids. So much work and heartbreak and worry. Look at Nick. He really loves that little girl. How hard must it be for him to only see her a few days out of the month? And how hard to have such a lousy relationship with his ex that they can’t even share the everyday joys Becky must bring?

I’ve got to believe that no matter how unaffected Dad seemed about Danny leaving, there’s a part of him deep inside that’s incredibly empty. I mean, it’s not like they lost a child to a tragic accident, or a terrible illness. He didn’t physically die, so they could never put him to rest in their minds. There was never any closure – if there is such a thing.