Follow the Stars Home (53 page)

“Give me your hand,” he said, reaching out his arm.

“I can't,” Amy said, clinging like a snail to her rock.

“Come on,” he said. “That's a girl. What a brave
girl you are, there. Just give me your hand. Come on …”

Amy closed her eyes. She didn't want to be such a chicken, but she had the feeling that if she let go, she'd sink under the sea and never come up again.

“Okay, dear,” the man said, incredibly patient considering his boat was being dashed against the shoal. “Just let go. Let go of the rock and grab me instead. I'll catch you—”

Amy cried. She thought of Julia having her seizure. Julia's teeth had been chattering just like Amy's, she couldn't stop herself, and there'd been no kind lobsterman to save her. Nothing Dianne did, nothing anyone did …if Julia could be so brave, every day, all the time …sea gulls were flying overhead, screeching at the bait and lobster in the man's boat, and they sounded to Amy like Julia: “Dleee, dleeee.”

If Julia could do it …

Grasping the rock with one arm, Amy reached out for the man. His gnarled hand grabbed hold of her wrist.

My daddy was a fisherman
, she wept.

But she must not have said it out loud, because the man didn't reply right away. He seemed to be too choked up himself. He pulled a blanket out of a chest and laid it on top of her. Amy was too weak and filled with shock and grief to move. She just lay on the deck and wept.

“There, little one,” the man said. “There you go.”

“Daddy,” Amy cried.

“Got to get us off the shoal now,” the man said. “Before we sink.”

“My daddy sank,” Amy cried.

“Did he? I'm sorry,” the man said, giving a little throttle. “But that's not going to happen to us today. Not today, not a lucky day like this.”
Lucky
, Amy sobbed, shaking her head as she thought of her dog, of how she had failed Orion.

“Not every day I get to pull two young ones out of the cold sea,” the man said.

“Two?” Amy asked, confused.

“Two,” the man said, reaching down to pull her blanket up a little higher. “You and the pup.”

Amy blinked the water out of her eyes. There, standing over her, was Orion. He looked noble and proud, as if he had just swum the English Channel. He was shivering, shaking his coat every ten seconds, but his tongue was red and hanging out in a great happy-dog smile.

“He was swimming out there,” the man said, gesturing with his thumb. “Thought he was a seal at first, but it's too early in the year for them to be migrating down this far. Then I thought he was a duck.”

“Orion!” Amy cried.

“Just swimming in circles, he was. I pulled him aboard. He was hiding back in the stern, but he must've heard you yelling for help.”

“Dogs have the best hearing,” Amy said, kissing Orion's ears.

“He saved your life,” the man said. “If he hadn't given out that loud bark, I never would have seen you.”

“Orion,” Amy breathed.

“Ah, he's yours,” the man said. “Well, that's fitting. Isn't that fine? A dog saving his young mistress's life like that. Wait'll we tell everyone on the dock about that. Just wait.”

“Oh, Orion,” Amy said, holding him tight. She'd been thinking it had been the other way around, that she had jumped in to save
his
life. Amy thought of the people who had come to help her on that slippery
rock: her father, Dianne, and Julia. Especially Julia. And then the man, the strange and wonderful fisherman who had saved her dog. And Orion, who had barked his head off to save her life.

They passed the red nun and the bell buoy marking the entrance to Hawthorne harbor. The bell tolled deep and true. The three white church spires pierced the pewter-gray sky. There was the brick building where Dr. McIntosh had his office. Flags whipped in the wind. The great white sea captains' houses stretched along the water's edge, and Amy and Orion knew how it felt to return from a dangerous voyage.

Dianne made up the bed in Julia's room. Amy would be staying for a few days. The police had arrested Buddy for kidnapping, and although they didn't believe Tess Brooks was involved, they wanted to make sure. The CWS wasn't taking any chances.

“He's going to jail, right?” Amy asked.

“He's there already,” Dianne said.

“Just like in my story,” Amy said.

“Where Dickie goes to jail,” Dianne said.

Amy nodded. She was sitting on the floor, holding Julia on her lap. Ever since coming to the house, she had wanted to hold Julia or be close to her; she didn't seem to want to let her out of her sight. Dianne heard Amy kiss Julia's face.

“Gleee,” Julia whispered.

“You're my friend,” Amy whispered back.

“Gleee,” Julia said.

Dianne listened to the children. She loved how Julia's life changed when Amy was around. Julia struggled to be more alert. She unwound from the fetal position. Her voice grew stronger. Her hand
began to pat the air. Orion and Stella lay beside them. Stella had been overjoyed to see the dog, and she was draped over his head, licking his ears. No one wanted to be far apart from one another.

“You girls okay in here?” Lucinda asked, poking her head in.

“We're safe and sound,” Amy said.

Dianne's throat choked up. Amy's optimism was inspiring. She had just gone through that brutal experience, and she was trying to be cheerful. Dianne knew some of it was an act. Amy jumped at loud sounds. She had seemed subdued when she'd walked through the door with Alan, and he had said that saying good-bye to her mother had been very hard.

“I'm finishing up the stuffing,” Lucinda said. “For the turkey. Would anyone like to help?”

“Sure,” Amy said, but she didn't let go of Julia.

“The last pie's baking,” Lucinda said.

“It smells good,” Dianne said.

“What kind?” Amy asked hesitantly.

“Apple, of course,” Lucinda said. “For my apple girls.”

“No mince,” Amy said, shuddering. “As long as we don't have mince …”

“I promise,” Lucinda said.

“In my story,” Amy said, breaking down, “Catherine felt so good when Dickie went to jail. I thought I'd feel better. But I keep seeing his face, the way he looked when he dropped Orion off the bridge. His eyes were blank. He might have just been littering!”

“Don't think about it,” Lucinda said. “Don't waste your good mind picturing that horrible man.”

“I can't help it,” Amy sobbed, rocking Julia.

Dianne walked over to the girls. She crouched down, and put her arms around both of them. She rested her forehead against Amy's.

“Oh, Amy,” Dianne whispered.

“Dianne,” Amy said, clutching Dianne's sweater.

Dianne understood how a good person's mind could be drawn to the worst in people, the ugliest of human nature. How, with everything gentle in the world, we could fix on the troubled. She had it within herself: All the years she could have been loving Alan, she'd been twisted up with hating Tim.

No summer breeze, calling birds, or shooting stars had been able to chase those feelings away. Dianne had heard Tim's last words, the door slamming, his footsteps walking away, for years and years. Dianne wished Amy could erase her fears, but she feared that Amy would be seeing Buddy's blank stare for the rest of her life.

“Why?” Amy asked. “Dianne, how could a person do what he did?”

“I don't know,” Dianne said.

“Maaa,” Julia said, her eyelids fluttering.

“I keep trying to figure it out,” Amy wept. “How could he be that mad at a little dog? How could he be that angry but look as if he didn't care?”

Dianne breathed quietly. She just held the girls, rocking them against her body. She wanted to give them the comfort of her warmth, the beat of her heart. Some things in life couldn't be explained or figured out. She had spent years trying to make sense of the senseless. How could any mother understand what had happened to Julia? Why she had been born the way she had. Why her father had left and her mother had stayed.

“He's in jail,” Lucinda said. “That's the important thing. Just like in ‘Sand Castles’: Justice will be served.”

“I'm not going to win the contest,” Amy said, wiping her eyes. “My story never even got turned in.”

“It's not too late,” Lucinda said. “I have pull down at the library, you know.”

Amy just shook her head, and that pierced Dianne's heart. Amy shuddered as if remembering something so painful she couldn't put it into words.

“Amy?” Lucinda pressed.

“It's a bad story,” Amy said. “It hurt my mother's feelings. I don't want to hand it in, Lucinda. Thank you for helping me, but I just want to forget about it.”

“Hmm,” Lucinda said. She stood in the doorway. The aroma of apple pie baking drifted up the stairway. Dianne could feel her mother wanting to fix this situation with the story, but she was holding herself back. “Well, if you say so. A bargain's a bargain though. I told you win or lose, you were going to
The Nutcracker.”

“Still?” Amy asked, her eyes a little brighter.

“Of course,” Dianne said, thinking of how confident she felt about leaving Julia with Alan. They'd be staying right there, with Lucinda, while he started moving their things into their new house.

“The Nutcracker,”
Amy said, gulping. “Something to look forward to.”

“It's so incredible,” Lucinda said, “when the ballerinas dance in the falling snow….”

“Just a few days from now,” Dianne said.

Alan took them to the train. With both of his hands on the wheel, he concentrated on driving through the snow. Thick snow was falling, making the road slippery. A snowplow went past in the other direction, an orange blur. He found himself wishing Dianne and Amy wouldn't go. The weather was bad, with more snow forecast for later.

But it wasn't the weather. Alan just didn't want Dianne to leave. He wanted to spend the snowstorm with her in their house. They could build a fire and look out at the harbor. They could watch the water turn five hundred shades of gray. They could lie on a blanket on the hard oak floor and stare at the ceiling. He was overcome with love for her, and he didn't want to let her out of his sight.

“So, you come back Sunday,” he said instead.

“Sunday night,” Dianne said. “On the seven-thirty-two.”

“I'll be there,” he said.

“My first train ride,” Amy said. “My first trip to New York, my first ballet…”

“We'll have fun,” Dianne said.

“Don't worry about Julia,” Alan said.

She looked over at him, and he reached for her hand. Her grip was firm, and he felt their connection. Her gaze was so warm and steady, letting him know she'd never trusted anyone the way she trusted him.

“You're her father,” Dianne whispered, giving him the greatest gift he could have. The adoption papers were in the works. His heart was so full, he could almost believe this feeling would never change.

“That's how I feel,” he said.

“I've never left her for this long,” Dianne said.

“I'll be with her,” Alan said. “And so will Lucinda.”

“I'm not worried, sweetheart,” she said. “As long as she's with you. And I know Mom's happy to have you staying at her house.”

Alan nodded. Why did he keep wishing she'd miss her train? He could drive slower. She squeezed his hand. He raised her palm to his face, pressed it against his skin. The windshield wipers swished back and forth. A sand truck drove by.

“Do you think my dress is okay?” Amy asked. “Good enough for the ballet?”

“It's perfect,” Dianne said.

“She's bringing those fancy earrings, Dr. McIntosh,” Amy said, starting to sound really excited.

“Dorothea's?” Alan asked, glancing over.

“Yes,” Dianne said.

“And she's bringing a fancy satin handbag and a gorgeous cashmere cape,” Amy said. “She'll look like a movie star.”

“Wish I were going,” Alan said.

“So do I,” Dianne said, smiling over at him. “How about we forget the train?” she asked. “And you can drive us. I'll bet we can get you a ticket for
The Nutcracker.
…”

Just having her say that was almost enough, although Alan was tempted by the idea of the city with Dianne. Or anywhere else. But he had made a promise to take care of Julia, and he knew how good it would be for Dianne to get away.

“Girls only,” Amy reminded them.

He switched on the radio to hear the weather report. They were calling for more snow, with six to eight inches falling tonight and into tomorrow.

“Maybe we shouldn't go,” Dianne said.