On Folly Beach (54 page)

The honking of a car horn woke Emmy from a sound sleep. She sat up, disoriented, as she looked at her bedside clock and realized it was after ten o’clock in the morning.

She splashed cold water on her face and dragged a toothbrush over her teeth before running to the front door and pulling it open to find her parents just climbing the front steps. Her father enveloped her in a bear hug first, patting her back with his large farmer’s hand and making her feel like a little girl again.

“You’re looking good, Emmy,” he said, studying her face closely.

“The warmer weather must be agreeing with you.” Smiling broadly, he added, “If this is what October in South Carolina is like, I might have to consider retiring here.”

When he let her go, she was left to face her mother, and they stood awkwardly regarding each other. Then they both took a step forward and wrapped their arms around each other, the feeling as unfamiliar as running in heels. But as Emmy made to draw back, her mother held her harder, making it easy for Emmy to lay her head on Paige’s shoulder and imagine what it had been like once, when the love Paige felt for her only child overcame the pain of her grief. It had been there all along, but it had just taken the bridge of months to make them both realize it.

Clearing her throat, Paige stepped back and looked up at the house. “It’s beautiful. And you say that Abigail’s son designed and built it?”

“Yes. Heath built it for his fiancée, before she broke off the engagement. Since he’s still working part-time in Atlanta, he spends his time on Folly with his parents instead of here—for obvious reasons. I’ve enjoyed staying here.”

“I bet it’s got a lovely view of the marsh,” Paige said, sounding hopeful.

Emmy walked to the door and opened it wider. “Come on in, and I’ll show you.”

Her dad said, “I’ll go ahead and unload the car and bring things in while you and your mother talk shop.”

Both women smiled at him as they walked through the door. Paige sent an admiring glance at the soaring ceiling and windows before pausing in front of the photographs Emmy had finished framing and hung on the walls.

Paige lifted her hand and touched the photograph of Maggie and Robert on their wedding day. “Is this the rest of your story?” she asked, studying the faces in the old picture.

“Pretty much. I’m sleeping better, if that’s what you mean.” Emmy frowned to herself as she looked closely at Maggie’s face, knowing now why she had always thought there was a sadness in Maggie’s smile. She glanced at the next picture, of Peter sitting at a table, looking annoyed to be photographed. She saw now Heath’s profile and nose, wondering why she hadn’t noticed it before.

She stopped for a moment, considering. “I haven’t dreamed about Ben in a while, either. Not since I had that long visit with Lulu, and she asked me to tell her about him.”

Paige just nodded, then continued walking straight through to the back of the house to the rear porch, which overlooked the small backyard and the marsh beyond it. Paige’s eyes softened as she stared into the distance as if seeing a long-lost friend she’d never expected to see again. “It’s still the same,” she said, her gaze brushing over the lighthouse and the muted autumn shades that hovered over the river and the wet marsh that surrounded it. “I think I’d like to paint again, and this would be the first thing I’d paint.”

Emmy looked at her mother, remembering the sheet-shrouded easels in Paige’s attic, and all the dried-up paint, forgotten over the years. She smiled. “I think that would be a very good idea.”

Paige indicated the dock area with her chin. “Is that one of Lulu’s bottle trees?”

“Yes. It was there when I got here. It even had a message in it.” She thought of the words now—Come back to me—seeing the emptiness in them, the impossibility of wanting something that was never meant to be; the naïveté of believing that if a person waited long enough, the words would come true.

“A message?”

“Yeah, something Lulu started long ago, sort of as a way of remembering someone or some place you loved.”

Paige raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “Where’s your boat?” She was glancing down at the unfinished dock.

“Don’t have one, and haven’t thought to borrow one, either. The closest I’ve gotten to the marsh is the dock. I’ve been putting it off, although I’m not really sure why.”

Paige pulled back to get a better look at Emmy. “Because its beauty and mystery will pull you in and never let you go.” She returned her gaze to the glare of sun off the ocher-colored water. “You probably realized that at some point, it would make it hard for you to leave.” She drew in a deep breath. “It stays with you. Even the smell of the pluff mud. I smelled it coming over the bridge, and I knew that I’d come home.”

The corner of Emmy’s mouth lifted. “I thought home for you was Indiana.”

“Oh, I figure home can be several places. I’ve got my jar of sand to remind me of that. Ben knew that, too, you know.”

Emmy stared at her mother, noticing how thick and brown her hair still was, with sparkling silver strands interspersed throughout. “What do you mean?”

Paige regarded her daughter with eyes the color of Emmy’s. “Before he left, that last time, he came to see me at the store when you weren’t there. He told me . . .” She stopped for a moment, as if trying to remember the exact words. “He told me that if something should happen to him, he wanted you to make a new life for yourself someplace else. He wanted you to follow your dreams, wherever they would lead you, and start a new life without memories of your life together holding you back.”

Emmy blinked away the sting from her eyes. “Ben told you that?”

Paige nodded, her eyes bright. “He did. He loved you that much.”

Emmy felt the old familiar anger burn beneath the surface. “But why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because you weren’t ready to hear it. You would have fought me about leaving even harder. But I think you’re ready now.” They were both silent for a moment as they watched a hawk glide low over the water, hunting for something only it could see.

Emmy studied the scene, and the Morris Island lighthouse in the distance, until her eyes became blurry with unshed tears. She thought of Ben, and the words he’d meant for her, and her anger dissipated, leaving behind only a warm glow and a certainty that she’d ended up where she was supposed to be. “I haven’t dreamed of his footsteps for almost a week now.”

Paige remained silent, as if waiting for Emmy to figure out on her own what her words meant.

“I think I’m going to be okay now, Mama.”

Paige spoke softly. “I know. I wouldn’t have let you go if I didn’t think you would be.”

The old familiar knowing whispered on the back of Emmy’s neck as they allowed a smile to pass between them before returning their gazes to the autumn marsh, where the water nourished the tall grasses, and no more words were needed.

AFTER HER PARENTS LEFT TO go see Abigail, with a promise to meet at Folly’s Finds in a few hours, Emmy returned to her desk in the bedroom and sat staring at nothing for a long time, thinking about Ben and what he’d told her mother, and what Lulu had told her about facing the truth that he was never coming back.

Emmy pushed her laptop aside, then drew out a small notebook from the drawer and ripped out a page. She paused with a pen in hand poised over the paper, thinking of all the unsaid words between Ben and her, the two words she regretted never saying, and began to write. When she was finished, she very carefully rolled up the note into a tubular shape, making sure it was small enough to fit inside the neck of a bottle.

Emmy began to walk away, but stopped and returned to the desk, her attention drawn to her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Leaning closer, she saw that her eyes were clearer now and she’d lost the caged look that had reminded her of Maggie’s photograph. She looked down at her hand, remembering the day Ben had placed the ring on her finger, finally understanding what her mother had meant about only pain having a time span and not love.

Slowly, she removed the gold wedding band from her left hand and placed it in the drawer, closing it softly and moving away from the desk before she could change her mind.

She threw on her running gear, tucking the note into her jacket pocket, and was jogging down the front steps when she recognized Heath’s truck pulling into the driveway with a kayak lying in the open truck bed. Frank let out a bark from the cab before bounding out of the open window and running toward her, barely stopping in time to avoid knocking her over.

Scratching Frank behind the ears, she stood waiting for Heath as he climbed out of the cab and headed toward her, and suddenly she felt shy. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left Lulu’s hospital room to go find Jolene and hadn’t asked Abigail or Lizzie what had happened next, not really sure why but feeling it had something to do with being afraid to know.

Heath stopped in front of Emmy with his hands tucked into his front pockets. “Going for a run?”

“I wouldn’t call what I do ‘running,’ but it works. How are you?”

“Better. Thank you. I’ve been in Atlanta.”

“I know. Your mother told me. And Lizzie. And Lulu. And your dad. It’s like they all want to make sure that I know where you are.”

He smiled, looked away. When he faced her again, his eyes were serious. “I was with Jolene. She said she was ready to consider rehab. I found her a place that didn’t remind her of hospitals so much.” He dug the toe of his sneaker into the sandy grass that struggled to grow between the two cement tire runners. “She wanted me to tell you something.”

“Really? About what?”

“That Aunt Lulu was right. About it being long enough.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of tissue. He unwrapped it slowly, revealing a ring with a blue stone that winked in the sunlight. “She gave me back Maggie’s ring.”

Emmy stared at the sparkling stone, sensing Heath’s relief and sorrow that the inevitable had happened, forcing him to consider a different future. “I’m sorry.”

“And she also wanted to let you know that you’ve inspired her.”

“Me?”

“After she gets out, she’s moving to California. She’s hoping a change of scenery can work for her, too.”

“Me, too. And I’m glad she wasn’t forced to go kicking and screaming like I was.” Emmy grimaced, forcing a smile from Heath.

“She also says not to worry. She can continue managing your Web site—that’s the beauty of the Internet. If you’d like her to, of course. She said she’ll call you as soon as she can to talk about it.”

“Good. It seems like you’re both okay with things. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Frank trotted up to Heath with an old tennis ball he’d found in the neighbor’s yard and dropped it at his feet. Heath picked up the ball and threw it into the backyard, and they both watched Frank spring into action.

Eager to change the subject, Emmy asked, “How’s Lulu? I visited last week, and she was still a little wobbly on her feet.”

“She was up and around this morning, bossing my mother around her own kitchen, so I guess she’s back to normal. Kept calling poor Janell at the store asking about orders, so I finally took the phone away from her.”

“Good call. Janell’s doing a great job of filling bottle-tree orders. Maybe it’s time to reorganize—put Lulu in charge of design, and Janell in charge of the physical work. And I’ll let you and Abigail suggest it. I’ll make sure I’m on vacation that week.”

Heath threw back his head and laughed, making Emmy smile. “That’s probably a good call on your part.”

“Has Lulu decided what to tell your father?”

“Yeah. She’s going to tell him everything. I think we’ve all learned what hiding the truth can do. And you know my dad—he’s a pretty tough guy. It might take some getting used to the idea that he’s the son of a Nazi spy, but he’s been through worse. He’s such a history buff that I can even see him writing a book about it. I mean, the last Duquesne spy discovered after sixty years—it’s pretty interesting stuff, whether or not history’s your thing.”

“True.” Emmy stuck her hands into her pockets, feeling the note she’d written earlier, measuring its weight between her fingers. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to turn your family upside down. I hope you know that if you wanted me to drop it, I would have.”

He grinned wryly. “I know that. But actually, I should be apologizing to you. And thanking you. I think the radiation must have warped my thought processes for a while. All I wanted to do was focus on the future and ignore any of the messes I’d left behind. Like none of that mattered, including Jolene. And once you told me about the books, it was like none of those people—Maggie, Lulu, Cat—mattered, either.” He rubbed his scar, probably something he’d do for the rest of his life. “All of my indecisions—about my job, about Jolene, about the old lot, about this dock—were just roadblocks I’d set up so that I couldn’t see the future too clearly. I figured if I waited long enough, they’d all clear up on their own.”

Frank lay down on Emmy’s feet, preventing her from moving. “Give yourself a break, Heath. You almost died.”

He studied her closely as he spoke. “I’m glad I didn’t. Leaving things undone—or unsaid—would be the hardest thing to accept, I think. So I’m glad you found Maggie’s books and started this whole thing. You’ve made me think more clearly again, and made an old woman very happy.”