Summer's Passing (11 page)

Beckie hugged him then, and thanked him for all his help. I shook his hand. He didn't let go. "I need to talk to you about something. Can you give us a minute, Rebecca?"

"Sure. I'll stumble around the corridor for a while."

He waited until she was out the door.

"Someone's been asking about her. Not to me directly, but to the nurses," Reynolds said softly. "She did say she had no family in the area, right?"

"Yeah, her mother's dead and her father lives in Maryland. She doesn't have contact with any of her other relatives."

"Not long after she left the hospital, someone came in looking for her. The night nurse at the time doesn't remember much about the individual. A middle-aged man, kind of scruffy looking, is the way she put it. Anyhow, she claims he became irritated and a little vulgar when she told him you had left. He said he was a relative, but that was all. He stomped out when Nurse Karen wouldn't tell him where she went."

"What did he look like?" I asked.

"Caucasian; a beard, long hair, everything else is a blur."

"How about what he was wearing?"

Reynolds shook his head. "Old clothes. She said he looked homeless, except for his shoes. Nurse Karen recognized those as army jungle boots. They didn't fit with the rest of his ensemble, according to her."

"Has he been back since?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Okay." My mind raced again, thinking of boot prints in the dirt.

"Douglas, if you don't mind my asking, what's your game plan for our patient?"

"I plan on spending as much time with her as possible; every second of the day, if I can."

Reynolds looked toward the corridor with concern. "Probably a good idea," he added.

"You think Sophie has wrecked the place by now?" Beckie said as we turned into the beach house driveway.

"I wouldn't put it past her," I said.

"Let me go first." Beckie lifted herself from the car seat. "You take the rear, in case I stumble."

"Careful on the steps," I said.

It took some time but she made it to the front door without my help. "Hey, I thought you locked it up," Beckie said as she gripped the knob. The door swung open and Beckie crossed over the threshold.

"Wait!" I yelled maybe a little too loudly from behind her.

Too late. Beckie entered the hallway. "Sophie, we're home!”

By this time I stood next to her. "Hold up a minute." I remembered locking that door, I was certain of it. "Stay here," I said and crept down the hall looking for any evidence of an intruder. 

The bedroom door, our bedroom door, was closed. I remembered leaving it open. I made my way back to Beckie. "Can you drive?" I asked her.

"I don't know. Maybe. Why do you ask? You're scaring me."

"Hang on." I lifted her up and carried her to the car, setting her down by the driver's door.

"I think maybe someone has been in the house," I said.

"Sophie!" She yelled out.

"I'll check for Sophie, but I need you to get behind the wheel. Now, please."

I helped her into the car and gave her the keys. "Start the engine." She did. I gave her my cell phone. "If I'm not out soon, you take off. Call 911 and get someone out here. If anyone besides me comes to the door, get the hell out of here. Got it?"

She nodded. 

"Give me a minute or two. Keep your eyes on the house. If you see any movement besides me, leave."

"Let's call 911 now." Beckie looked up at me with pleading eyes.

Maybe I should have, but my hero image with Beckie had slipped a notch or two during the Sophie and the umbrella pole incident last month. I needed to get my confidence back. 

"I'll be fine. Watch the house." I left her before she could protest.

I walked into the hallway. "The police are on the way," I said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. 

The closed bedroom door might have been a deal breaker had it been nighttime. The daylight from the doorway gave me sufficient courage to turn the knob. No sense being cautious at that point. I flung the door open and jumped in, crouched low, arms outstretched. 

The room looked just as we'd left it, just as empty. I ducked my head down. Clear, under the bed. 

I looked to my right. It appeared I wasn't out of the woods yet. The closet door, which I thought I'd secured, was ajar. 

I took a deep breath.
Let's get this over with.
I'd no sooner had the thought than the door opened wider.

Nothing to say, nothing to do. I remained paralyzed in a semi-crouched stance not knowing what might come next.

What came next was Sophie. Looking around, as if to say, ‘I see you, but it's Beckie I want.’

I exhaled and bent forward, my hands on my knees. The car horn blared. Beckie.

I tore to the front door. "I saw someone!" She yelled through the open car window. "Running, around back."

"Stay there!" I yelled back and ran through the weeds and sea grass to the back of the house.

I tripped at about the halfway point and went sprawling. I got back on my feet and began running once again. 

Maybe my stumble slowed me down just enough. Whatever the case, I saw no one at the rear of the house, a mess of footprints, as always, but no person to go with them.

"If you think I'm going to sit in that hot car all day, you're nuts," Beckie said from behind me.

I gulped air, realizing I needed to get in better shape. "Which way was he heading?" I managed to get out between wheezes.

She pointed to her right. "He could have ducked between the houses, maybe."

I had a dilemma. I could give chase and hope to spot our possible intruder, leaving Beckie alone. Or I could stay with Beckie and secure the perimeter. I decided on the latter.

"I'm worried about Sophie."

"Sophie's fine. She's in the house," I told her.

"Thank God," she said.

"I'm fine too, by the way," I added.

If she heard me, she ignored me. "We need to check the house and maybe call 911."

We found no evidence that anyone, besides the two of us, had set foot in the house. I began to wonder if someone was playing games with us. The conversation I’d had with Doctor Reynolds popped back into my head. It dwelled in the same space as my talk on the pier with Bruno's owner.

"I hate to ask you this, but is there any way your father might be somehow involved?"

"No way," Beckie answered quickly. "He doesn't know where I am."

"How about the accident? He could have read about it in the paper, maybe on the internet. They had your name," I thought for a second. "They had your name before I talked to the reporters."

Beckie looked up from the bed where she sat. Sophie, on her lap, followed her eyes. "I'm calling 911," she said.

"What are you going to tell them?" I asked her.

"I'll tell them I'm being stalked, and that's the truth."

"Okay," I said, "but before you do that, why not try calling your father? You could hang up if he answers."

She thought about this before answering. "I don't want to hear his voice but I need to know."

"Use my cell," I said.

She took my cell phone from the pocket of her jeans and held it in her hand, staring at it.

"You want me to call?" I asked.

"No, I know his voice." With a visibly shaking finger, she punched in some numbers before raising the phone to her ear. 

She held it away from her as if it might explode. I could hear the faint rings on the other end. Twice, three times, no answer. Beckie looked at me. Five times, then "Hello."

Beckie threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall next to me before crashing to the floor. Sophie jumped from Beckie's lap and darted into the closet. I scooped up the phone and heard a busy signal.

"It was him," she said. "He's home."

"Sorry about your phone. I panicked."

"It still works." It did, in spite of the thin crack now running down its back.

We sat on the back porch at sunset, the call to 911 on indefinite hold. We had nibbled on some sandwiches earlier, but neither of us had much of an appetite.

"Maybe we're both going crazy," she added.

I thought back. Weird things had been happening since arriving in Port Grace, both before and after meeting Beckie. "Maybe it's Port Grace. Maybe it's the beach house. Maybe we're the only sane people here."

"Your theory is about to be tested," Beckie said pointing up the beach. Eve and Cassie skipped along the surf, Eric walking not far behind. His face seemed to light up when he spotted us.

As per the usual routine, Eric jumped up on the porch while the two tank toppers frolicked on the beach below.

"No cast. No boot. No nothing." Eric said, looking at Beckie. "Your bad leg looks just like your good one. A little pale maybe."

"A couple of days in the sun will fix that up," she said in reply.

"Can you walk now?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I could always walk, just not so well." 

"Oh yeah, that's right. Hey, how about you two joining us at the Trap? First beer's on me."

I was about to say
another time
when Beckie spoke up.

"How about it Monroe?" Beckie turned to me. A mischievous smile crossed her face. "The first beer's on him."

"I don't know Beckie, that might be pushing it," I said.

"We need this, don't you think?" She took my hand. I'll be fine. We'll go slow."

We did need it, maybe Beckie more than me. "Okay, but if you start getting tired, we're turning around."

"Sounds like a deal," Eric said and clapped his hands together. 

Cassie whispered into Eve's ear. "We'll meet you there," Eve said. "Cassie wants to run." 

They took off down the beach as if shot out of a cannon, Eve chasing Cassie. 

"What's the story on those two?" Beckie said as I helped her up.

"They're immature," Eric replied with a perfectly straight face.

We left Sophie behind. She seemed content to nap stretched out on the bed.

"How are you holding up?" I asked Beckie as we walked. It took a while but we were getting there. I saw the lights from The Sand Trap not too far ahead. Beckie had changed into her white flowery summer dress. The fading colors of the day played upon her face. She looked beautiful. 

She gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm fine. The leg feels like it's loosening up some. You might not have to carry me back home after all."

Home, she called it. I squeezed her hand back.

When we arrived at the Trap, Cassie yelled to us from a table on the sand. "We saved you some seats," she said, sipping a large fruity drink through a long straw.

I helped Beckie to her chair. She gave a sigh of relief as she sank into it.

"I'll get the beer," Eric said and took off.

I sat next to Beckie. "Is beer okay with you? I think it's Coors Light."

"That's fine for now, but I might try one of those," she pointed to Cassie’s drink, "before the night's over." She looked at me. "How's our finances?"

"We're fine," I told her with a smile.

The evening at the Sand Trap was just what we both needed. Neither of us had drunk much in the past few days. After about four beers, I was feeling pretty good. Beckie, on her third, felt no pain either. The fact that we both found Eric's stories funny attested to our state of inebriation. It was a joy to loosen up.

It soon came down to just the two of us at the table. Eric stood at the bar talking to a friend, Cassie and Eve were dancing to island music.

"Is that where you saw her?" Beckie faced the dark surf.

"Yeah, I saw her there," I said.

"Walk with me." Beckie rose up. "I want to see where."

I took her hand and we walked to the shoreline. The moonlight brightened as the lights behind us faded. 

"Here," I said. "I saw her right about here."

Beckie stood still, facing the gulf. "Go back and sit down. Do you mind? I need a minute alone. I'll be fine." She smiled at me. "Go."

I hurried back to the table, glancing behind me every couple of seconds. I reached the table and turned to the surf. I didn't see Beckie. My heart pounded in my chest. No, wait, there she was, right where I left her. 

She stood with her back toward me. A strong wind, maybe from the jungles of Mexico, took her dress, buffeting it around her. I saw her raise a hand from her side to her neck. The cross. Was she touching it?

She stood there for some time, her hand to her neck, her face to the sea. Then she turned toward me. Her face remained in shadow as she lowered her hand to her side and the cross at her neck glowed like a beacon in the dark.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you back there."

We were almost to the beach house, walking back home, just the two of us. We left Eric and the girls on the dance floor.

"I lost you for a moment. I couldn't find you," I said. 

I held her hand as we walked, in case she might stumble, or disappear.

"I didn't go anywhere," she answered.

"How's the leg holding up?"

"The leg's fine." She stopped and faced me. "I'm still a little tipsy and maybe that's why I'm saying this, but," she put her hand on my cheek. It felt warm. "I'm in love with you, Douglas Monroe. I know we haven't been together for a long time, but we've known each other for a long time. Am I right?"

"Yes." It did seem like I'd known her for a long time. It seemed that way from the very beginning.

"We need to talk about our future. The summer's passing quickly." Her hand moved to my hair, then to the back of my neck. "But first."

We kissed, not an ordinary kiss but one soaked in passion. A kiss for the ages. A kiss I'd remember until the day I died.

When we broke apart, I told her I loved her, several times.

"Do you need me like I need you?" She asked me.

"Yes," I said with all my heart.

"You fixed me, Doug. I was broken but you fixed me. You were the only one who could fix me. You should know that. You should also know that maybe you were a little broken too, you may have mended faster, but you were broken too."