A Sea Change (20 page)

To me – and I’d have to think, for Mom and Dad – Danny will always be out there somewhere.

Chapte
r Twenty

Nick replaced the receiver in its cradle, Becky’s elated voice a fresh memory. Something he could store away until their next talk. “I hit my first home run today, Daddy!”

Thrilled and proud as he was, Nick could feel the depression gaining momentum. He’d missed the latest event in Becky’s life. Another reminder of how far away she really was – not in miles, but in essence.

He stood, arms crossed, staring at the family of clay polar bears Becky had made with Mary’s help. The two of them had wrapped the figurines in white tissue paper. The presentation box had been painted white. The “iceberg” they stood on was a flat stone, also brushed with white paint and then sprinkled with opalescent glitter.

Nick picked up the biggest bear and ran his thumb along the surface. She’d done a good job. Mary had assured him that even the details – the lines to simulate fur; small, curved wires for claws – were his daughter’s ideas. He brought the figure to his face and ran it along his cheek. It was hard and cool, and didn’t bring Becky to mind. But back in its spot between Mama and Baby bears, Nick could see her dream of a family, and he felt a nerve in his temple jump.

Nick knew the path his thoughts were about to take, and he was sick of it, but felt powerless to redirect them down a better road. Before he knew it, he was dialing his sister’s number, in need of assurance and a dumping ground. But Tom answered. No, Kay wasn’t home. She’d taken the kids ice-skating. Any message? And Nick said, “Why aren’t you with them?” Then he hung up.

In the kitchen, beer in hand, he felt the restlessness beginning. The sun had just dipped behind the mountains. There was a Mariner’s game on, but he couldn’t summon up any enthusiasm for it. Didn’t really want to see Jim Kingston’s game face. Didn’t have to. It was tattooed on his brain.

Standing in front of the window, Nick looked across the beach. There were no signs of life at Jaed’s. No one was on the deck. Then a swift movement caught his eye. Chloe jumping onto the rail. If the cat was outside, so was Maddy, and Nick checked again.

He saw how he’d missed her. She sat, knees up, in a chaise, quietly reading. No. Make that writing. In her journal, he guessed.

Nick watched for a few minutes, wondering what thoughts she was putting to paper. She’d scribble something, then lift her head to look out across the water, the end of the pen in her mouth, and the process would begin again. This was where all her confidences and secrets went. Nick supposed this was how she got rid of any need to talk about the past. But she obviously thought about it. Thought about it a lot.

He almost wished he could write it all down and be done with it, but the idea didn’t appeal to him. Nick didn’t want a written account of his feelings. First of all, it felt slightly self-indulgent. And maybe more importantly, he couldn’t see leaving behind hard evidence of his weaknesses. But there were times in his life – like right now – he needed to talk. And if talking wasn’t an option a more silent, but equally cathartic, form of communication was what he wanted.

Turning away from the window, Nick knew he’d already made the decision. Fifteen minutes later, showered and changed, he headed for the front door. He opened it to find Maddy just stepping onto the porch, a tote bag slung over her shoulder.

“You’re going somewhere,” she said, her smile fading.

“Just next door,” he said.

She looked over at Number 73. “I thought they moved out last month?” Her eyes met his, and she got the joke. “Oh,
that
next door.”

“Looks like you already have a plan,” he said.

“It’s so nice, I thought I’d bring the QVII home, and I wondered if you wanted to come along for the ride.”

The sky had turned a violet-blue by the time they got underway. Nick stood behind Maddy as she piloted the boat. The cool salt air streamed over them. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and kept their speed at twenty knots.

Her hair fluttered in the breeze, the scent tantalizing him, and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She relaxed into him. Said, “That’s nice.” He rested his chin on her head, and savored the feeling of being the only two people on the water.

They rounded the point in relative silence, broken only by the occasional comment. Once, when he pushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck, she sighed so deeply he could feel it in his own lungs.

A little later, while they held a steady course down the Narrows, she placed her hand on his and softly asked, “What’s bothering you?”

“Who said anything is?” he answered, wondering how she’d known.

Maddy gave a small shrug. “You just seem kinda down. You know. Like the Sunday night blues, only it’s Tuesday.”

“How did you know about Sunday nights?”

“It’s a pretty common phenomenon. The weekend’s over. You have to go to work the next day…”

“Huh. Funny, I’d never heard of that,” Nick said.

“Then what did
you
mean?”

Nick held her tighter. “I never had the Sunday night blues until I got divorced. Until I only started seeing Becky every other weekend.”

Maddy slowed the engine. “Makes sense. But it doesn’t explain your Tuesday night blues.”

“Becky called me today. She hit her first home run.”

“And you didn’t get to see it.” Maddy brought the boat to a complete stop, and dropping anchor, she turned. “Nick, I’m sorry.”

“You think I’d get used to it.”

She lifted a hand to his cheek. “Why should you?”

It was fully dark now. The moon was new. Nick could barely make out her features in the running lights. He wrapped himself around her like a drowning man who’s found a piece of flotsam.

“Most of the time I get through the week with no problem. And I think, ‘you can do this.’ Thousands of other people do. Right?” His voice, already low, dropped another notch. “But there’re some nights that are – so hard.” An inexplicable lump had formed in his throat, and he had to stop.

Maddy’s hands slipped into the back pockets of his jeans. “This isn’t only about Becky, is it.”

He shook his head.

“What happened? In your marriage?”

“It’s a long, ugly story,” he finally said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “Why don’t you tell it to me?” Maddy gently tugged at him. “Come on. Let’s go below.”

Nick sat across from Maddy at the cramped booth, and realized he wouldn’t be able to give her just part of himself. Not without inventing more lies he’d have to keep track of. His silence spread through the cabin.

Then Maddy spoke. Her voice, coming at him through the darkness, held a flinty quality Nick hadn’t heard before. He wasn’t prepared for what she said.

“Does it make it any easier for you if you know Ted was sleeping with his boss’s –
our
boss’s – wife? That he ran off with her?” She cleared her throat. “See, we both worked for the Tacoma Barons. And I really loved that job. But I couldn’t go back to it, because – to make the humiliation complete, he stole about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, too.”

Every word felt like a blow to him – and why not? His hands reflexively turned into fists. His jaw tightened. He could barely make his voice heard when he said, “Jesus, Maddy.”

“Yeah. You think you know someone. Talk about reality smacking you in the face. I felt so incredibly stupid. I figured people were thinking, how could this grown woman not know what was going on? All kinds of crap went through my mind…Still does. That I was somehow to blame. That everyone there thought I was in on it, too.”

Maddy stopped for a moment, and Nick knew what was happening to her. She was reliving it.

“I just…” He heard her throat fill with tears. But she swallowed hard and went on. “I just felt so…”

“Betrayed.” Nick supplied the word she searched for.

“Yeah. Betrayed,” she repeated quietly.

They were both silent. The boat rocked slightly and the muffled sound of water splashing against the sides punctuated the pulse in Nick’s forehead.

He spoke without preamble.

“I know exactly how you feel. Janet was fucking someone I worked with. I didn’t find out about it till a lot later. I’d been in that – accident – I told you about. I was on my second surgery. In the hospital. That’s when she decided to tell me she was leaving me.” Maddy gasped and he gave a short, hollow laugh. “Yeah. I lost my job. Lost my wife.” The word came out a sneer. “I was living on pain pills. Correction. I was addicted to pain pills. And because of that, I lost Becky.”

“That why you don’t have joint custody.”

“That’s it. Her lawyer was a shark. He ate me alive at the hearing. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“You didn’t try again?” Maddy asked.

“There wasn’t any point.” He paused. His next words tasted sharp and bitter as they left his mouth. “She married the guy. He’s Becky’s stepfather now. Did I mention he caused my accident?”

“Oh, God, Nick. No.” She reached across the table and took his clenched hands in hers. She brought his knuckles to her lips. “You’re still so angry.”

“I know. I do all right for a while, and then it hits me all over again, and I feel totally out of control. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Maddy’s thumbs smoothed the skin on his hands. “That’s a big step, Nick.”

He realized he was concentrating on her touch. That the muscles in his neck had begun to relax; that telling Maddy his story – even if it wasn’t the whole story – left him feeling strangely liberated.

“Help me understand why it’s a big step, Maddy,” he said, as his fists became hands once again, cradling her face.

“Because…” She placed a kiss on first one palm, and then the other. “It means you’re getting back some of the power you gave away.”

He leaned forward, at the same time pulling her to him.

“Thank you for helping me with that,” he whispered against her mouth. “Thanks for taking away the blues.”

He could feel her smile, and then she pulled away. “Are you ready to go back now?

At that instant he didn’t want to go anywhere, and began to say as much. But he suddenly remembered his gift for Maddy. And the time to give it to her never seemed better.

“If you’re ready, I’m ready.”

The deeper meaning of his words vaguely registered with each of them. Neither knew that though, and Nick and Maddy both felt an appreciation for the black night.

Ch
apter Twenty-One

Maddy slid the box of photographic paper onto the shelf, then leaned against the door jamb and smiled. She was fairly certain she’d been smiling for 48 hours straight.

“Admiring your handiwork?”

She turned.

“Admiring yours.” Maddy took the stacked developing trays filled with equipment from Nick’s hands. “Is this the last of it?”

“That’s it.”

Maddy placed a set of tongs in each tray, then looked over at Nick standing on the top step. “Then come inside and close the door.”

“It’ll be a tight fit,” he said.

She hooked a finger in the waistband of his jeans, pulling him toward her.

“Sometimes a tight fit is the right fit.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” he said, as the door blocked out what was left of the early evening.

Maddy switched on the amber light. Her arms went around his waist. They stood hip to hip. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she began. “How can I ever thank you enough?”

“You’ve made a pretty good start.” He grinned. “Especially last night. That thing you did with your tongue…”

“Cut it out,” she said. “I’m serious.”

“What, and I’m not?”

“Nick, you have no idea what this means to me. You’ve given me back something I never thought I’d have again.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” he said self-consciously.

“But it is. And I think you know it.” She placed a kiss in the middle of his chest and looked up at him. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have to say it anyway. I love you for what you’ve done.” She paused, then said, “Well, it didn’t make you run screaming into the night. I guess that’s a good thing.”

Smiling, he said, “It’s hard to make a U-turn in here.”

“Ah,” she nodded, her hands feeling his back under the t-shirt he wore.

“What’re you doing?” he asked. “Not that I don’t like it…”

“You haven’t broken out in a cold sweat, either.”

“Look, Maddy. There’s nothing wrong with you saying – what you said. It’s just that I can’t say it back.”

“Nick, it wasn’t a declaration of undying love. I was just saying ‘thanks.’”

He kissed the tip of her nose, and finally said, “You’re welcome.”

Maddy pushed him away. “See? Was that so hard?” She uncapped a brown plastic bottle filled with developer and began filling a tray.

“So, what’s the first order of business?” he asked.

“A very special print.”

“Can I watch? I’ve never seen anyone print a picture before.”

“I was hoping you’d want to.”

Maddy pulled the negative out of the file, dusted it with an anti-static brush, and placed it in the holder she slid into the enlarger. Flicking on the light, she began the process of focusing and cropping.

“What
is
that?” Nick asked over her shoulder.

“You’ll see.” She turned off the enlarger lamp and opened a new box of paper she’d bought the day before. With the paper in place, Maddy set a timer for five seconds, covered three-fourths of the sheet with a piece of cardboard, and pushed the timer button. She repeated the process, each time exposing another quarter of the photographic paper.

“What’re you doing?”

“It’s a test print. It’ll tell me what the best exposure is.” Maddy slipped the eight-by-ten into the developing tray, waited a few seconds, then turned it over. “Watch this, Nick.” She let out her breath with one word. “Magic.”