Tales From Sea Glass Inn (33 page)

Except Maggie. Tam turned when she heard
someone calling her name and saw Maggie jogging toward her along the backyard
path. Maggie was the only one who really understood all sides of Tam’s
situation.

“Hey. I’m glad I caught you before you left,”
Maggie said when she reached her. She handed Tam a cloth bag with the
Beachcomber logo on the side. “Jocelyn sent these for you to read while you’re
sitting in waiting rooms in Portland. You are still going, aren’t you?”

Tam laughed without humor. “Of course I am.
Once I make up my mind, I stick to it.” True, but even she had wondered if
she’d be as faithful to her word as she usually was. “I just wanted to walk on
the beach once more before I go.”

“Do you mind some company?”

Tam remembered all too well the last time
Maggie had asked to come along with her. The afternoon had been one of the best
in Tam’s life, and it had ended with a tsunami of a kiss. She cleared her throat
and hoped to clear her mind of the memory as well. “Are you keeping an eye on
me, making sure I’ll really follow through with this?”

Maggie laughed as they started to walk down
the staircase leading to the shore. Tam loved the sound, especially when it
mingled with the splash of waves. “No. Every step is your decision to make, not
mine to force. I just wanted to…to be here if you need to talk.”

What had Maggie been about to say? That she
just wanted to be with Tam? Tam pushed the thought away and peered into the
bag. “What did Jocelyn send? I’m guessing titles like
Fathers and Daughters: Healing
Complicated Relationships
or
Know
Your Enemy: How to Face and Beat Cancer
.”

Maggie bumped her shoulder into Tam’s as they
walked along the sand. “Don’t worry. I asked her what they were just to make
sure she wasn’t sending anything like that, but they’re fantasy novels. She
said sometimes you just need to escape.”

Tam folded the bag around the books and held
them to her chest. “Tell her thank you. They’ll be perfect.”

Maggie was silent for a moment. “Speaking of
complicated relationships, how is yours? I saw you in his room the other day,
but I didn’t want to disturb the two of you. You seemed to be…talking.”

“As opposed to me snarling at him, as usual?”
Tam asked with a wry smile. She was getting accustomed to seeing her father now
and could stay in the same room with him without losing control of her voice or
feelings. It didn’t mean she’d forgiven him or was ready to bond, but it was
something. “He was telling me about his second wife. My mom knew he was with
someone else, but she never told me. She let me believe he was a player, moving
from one relationship to the next.”

“Does this change how you see him?” Maggie
asked quietly.

Tam thought for a long minute. “No. I mean,
it doesn’t help me understand why he abandoned me or make it any easier to
remember growing up fatherless, but in a way it changes how I see myself.”

“Ah.”

This time, Tam was the one to bump into
Maggie. “What do you mean by that, oh, wise one?”

Maggie looped her arm through Tam’s. “
Ah
means I’ve noticed
you relate to your father, even though you’re angry with him. You’ve grown up
believing you’re just like him, including his alleged philandering ways. When
you found out he really wasn’t a player, it made you rethink your own need to
avoid relationships. Am I close?”

“Uncomfortably so,” Tam said. She tightened
her hold on Maggie’s arm and pulled her a little closer. She should be pushing
her away now, getting distance from her and from the conversation, but Maggie
was right. Tam had fallen into a life of transient relationships because she
figured either she or her partner would be a repeat version of her father. One
of them would eventually leave, so it might as well be her. Her father had left
her mother, but he’d stayed with his true love. What did that mean for her?

“Nature versus nurture,” Maggie said. “You’re
wrestling with one of the biggies.”

“I guess. It’s complicated, but at the same
time it’s simple. If I try to let myself commit to a relationship, will I be
like he was with me and my mom, or like he was with his real love?”

Maggie pulled Tam to a stop and faced her.
“Or maybe you’ll be
you
.
If you’re with someone you truly love, you won’t want to go.”

Tam caressed Maggie’s cheek with the back of
her hand. Maggie wasn’t necessarily offering herself as that person, but Tam
allowed her own mind to consider the possibility. Would she ever want to walk
away from Maggie? Surprising, smart, funny, kind Maggie? Not likely, but she
still couldn’t be sure. She saw her own conflict and doubt reflected in
Maggie’s expression. Not for the same reasons, but with the same outcome.

She let her fingers trail down Maggie’s neck
and saw her breathing increase at the touch. Tam smiled and tugged Maggie back into
a walk. “You know my deepest fears now,” she said, only half joking. Maggie
really did understand her better than anyone ever had. “So tell me, what’s
yours?”

“I always thought it was death,” Maggie
admitted. “When Jocelyn was sick, I was so afraid to lose her. I feel something
similar, but less personal, with my patients. And when I went skydiving, I was
definitely afraid of the parachute not opening and me plunging to my death.”

“You went skydiving?” Tam asked. “You’ll have
to tell me the whole story sometime.”

“Okay. It makes my palms sweat to talk about
it, but someday I will.”

Tam turned her imagination away from the
arousing picture of windblown Maggie in a jumpsuit and returned to the topic.
“Have you changed your mind about your fear?”

Maggie shrugged and her arm rubbed against
Tam’s. Tam gave in to the screaming request of her nerve endings and put her
arm around Maggie’s waist, pulling them closer.

“I see it differently now. Dying is a fact of
life. I’ve seen it met with dignity and acceptance, or with fear, but either
way it’s something that happens to us. Living is the harder part because we
make it happen. It’s the choices we make and the dreams we choose. The way we
think and act and love. I’m more afraid of not living well and fully than anything
else.”

Tam walked without speaking, enjoying the
feel of Maggie’s steps matching hers. Synchronized in movement and thought. Had
she ever had a conversation like this with another person? She’d remember if
she had. Thoughts openly expressed and minds connecting. “I guess it’s a good
fear to have. It makes you aware of the choices you make and what they mean. It
makes you question assumptions, especially if they’re holding you back from
living fully.”

“Like the assumption that you’re incapable of
staying in a relationship?”

Tam had to laugh at Maggie’s ability to turn
her comments back on her. “I suppose so.”

Maggie halted again and pulled Tam into one
of her warm hugs. She released her and stepped back. “This is going to be a
huge week for you. You have a lot going on with your dad and your procedures,
and you’ll have a lot of time to be alone with your thoughts. You can call me
anytime, and turn to Jocelyn’s books for an escape, but don’t shortchange
yourself on these topics. They deserve time and reflection from both of us.”

Tam nodded and gave Maggie a kiss on the
cheek. Even the brief touch of lips on skin made her want more, but she
realized they needed to move apart and let this conversation sink in. She
watched Maggie walk back toward the inn without attempting to follow her. This
wasn’t the same as the way they’d separated at the pond after their kiss. Then
there’d been too much left unspoken and too much fear holding them apart. Now
there was only the promise of coming together again. Tam turned away from the
inn and continued along the beach.

*

Maggie drove through the dark, winding along
the Highway 101 curves she knew by heart. Even though she couldn’t see the
ocean, she knew when the trees would open and expose breathtaking views. Every
passing lane, every roadside scenic view. Gem had criticized her for being a
homebody and returning to the town where she and Jocelyn had grown up, but
Maggie felt a reassuring completeness in her familiarity.

She’d struggled with her lack of
devil-may-care attitude and quiet routines and somehow had let Gem’s decision
to sail around the world—and her corresponding decision
not
to—make her feel
inadequate and boring. She’d jumped out of a plane trying to escape what she
saw as a meaningless existence, but she hadn’t found a magical solution on the
way down.

She’d found it in Tam. She’d felt complete
sitting by her on the edge of the pond, watching dragonflies buzz by. She’d
definitely found passion and excitement in Tam’s kiss. Somehow, when she’d been
rocked from the top of her red head to the bottom of her wader-clad toes, she’d
discovered an adventure more terrifying than any skydive. If she yielded to her
feelings for Tam and allowed herself to feel the full brunt of her growing
desire for her, Maggie would have to be present in her life. Not displaced into
the drama and sadness belonging to her patients and their families, and not
numbing herself in front of the TV with a plastic bowl of fake food.

When was the last time Maggie had been fully
and unabashedly herself? She couldn’t even remember. She’d been Jocelyn’s
sister and her stem-cell donor. She’d never regret the way she’d lost her
childhood to Jocelyn’s illness—each of them had been refined and defined by the
experience. Maggie had turned her attention to the more general population of
cancer patients. Now she often felt she lived her patients’ lives more than her
own.

Loving Tam would change all that. A small,
but growing flame of courage inside Maggie said she was ready for the change.

Maggie took one of the Newport exits and
drove toward the pier where Mel had told her she’d find Tam tonight, after her
return from testing at the hospital in Portland. She had food with her, filling
the car with delicious aromas. A chocolate tart from Helen’s bakery, and a meal
Maggie and Jocelyn had prepared. While they’d been cooking, Ari had sat at the
kitchen island working on her new book and tasting everything they offered her.
Maggie had felt the last of her stubbornly lingering fears vanish as she
watched her sister and Ari interact. They were happy and settling together.
They had trips and vacations planned—a research trip to Canada for Ari and a
booksellers convention in England for Joss. But they didn’t need to prove
anything with risks or gambles or massive upheavals in their lifestyles. They
kissed and touched and laughed about small, inconsequential things. The
revolution occurred in barely discernable increments. They didn’t need to throw
away jobs, friends, and homes and sail the seven seas. They found meaning
together, in daily life. Present with each other.

Maggie’s hands shook as she put her car in
park and climbed out. The decision to stay in her life, but add Tam to it,
required more bravery than she’d ever realized.

She let herself through the chain-link gate
and walked along the wooden dock, hearing the suction-like sound of waves
lapping against hulls and pylons. She counted boats to find the right one but
stopped when the silhouette of Tam made it unnecessary. Tam was sitting
lengthwise on a bench, staring out to sea with an expression of calm. Was the
calm coming from peace or resignation? She held a glass of wine in one hand and
the other rested on the metal railing. Maggie could guess at some of the
thoughts in her mind, given the impending surgeries and her experience being
near her father again. Were any of Tam’s thoughts about her? Maggie hoped so.

“Permission to come aboard?” Maggie asked in
a voice loud enough to carry across the wind and waves.

Tam turned toward her with a ghost of a
smile. “Sure. Watch your step, though.” She put her wineglass down and came
over to the railing.

Maggie took Tam’s hand and climbed off the
dock and onto the unsteady boat. She wavered for a moment, balancing the
cardboard box of food on her hip, but soon she felt the rhythm of the waves and
she felt more stable.

“I brought dinner and dessert,” she said,
holding out the box. “If you don’t mind company, that is.”

Tam took the box from her and carried it to
the stern where she set it on a round plastic table. “Wine?”

“Yes, please,” Maggie said. She walked around
the little sailboat—a tour lasting less than a minute—and then settled on the
red bench. “Thanks,” she said, taking the glass Tam offered. “How did it go in
Portland?”

Tam leaned against the railing and stared out
at the harbor. “The surgeon said I’m a perfect match, which you already knew.
Then he scheduled the transplant and explained everything that would happen,
which you’d already told me.”

Maggie nodded even though Tam wasn’t looking
at her. Tam was right—Maggie had all the details about the medical side of
Tam’s life. Tonight wasn’t meant to be about Tam’s father. Maggie wanted it to
be only about her and Tam. She changed the subject to one close at hand, hoping
to bring them both here, to the present. “This is a cute boat.”

Tam laughed and sat next to her. “Cute? Too
tame. This sleek beauty and I have braved the rough ocean and raced whales
together.
Cute
,”
she repeated with a snort.

Maggie laughed. “What I meant to say was what
a fiercely intimidating little boat you have.”

“Drop the
little
and we’re good.” She took a sip of her wine. “Have you sailed before?”

“Not much. We went once or twice before Joss
got sick, but not after. My dad’s boat was one of the many things he had to
sell to help cover the deductibles from her medical bills.”

“I’m sorry,” Tam said.

Maggie shrugged. The years had been tough,
but her family had stuck together so tightly they didn’t need possessions or
elaborate times together to be happy. The contrast between her experience with
a sick family member and Tam’s was vast. Maggie wanted to be someone stable for
Tam to rely on through this ordeal. She had been there for her, as Markus’s
doctor, but now he had been transferred to a different surgeon and hospital.
Maggie’s only responsibility now was Tam.