Nantucket, page 14
“Why do you want to see old photographs?”
“Because I want to know more about you . . . just like you wanted to know more about Levi.”
“A bunch of old photos aren’t going to tell you.”
“Yes, they will—pictures do tell a story. . . .”
Just then, Aidan and Tuck burst into the kitchen with Levi behind them. “Guess what we saw?” Aidan said excitedly.
Cadie started to scold, “Hon, you’re getting sand all over . . .”
But Liam gently put his hand on her arm. “What did you see?”
“Seals!”
“No way!” Liam said.
“Yes, way,” Aidan said, nodding excitedly. “They swam right by us!”
“That’s so cool,” Liam said.
“I know!”
Cadie watched their exchange and couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly, she felt a big, wet, sandy paw on her leg and looked down to see Tuck gazing longingly at her.
“Don’t be a beggar, mister,” Liam scolded.
“Does he like toast and peanut butter?” Cadie asked.
Liam laughed, shaking his head. “That would be the understatement of the century.”
Cadie held out her last morsel, and Tuck took it ever so gently. “Good boy,” she said softly as Tuck swallowed it whole and turned his attention to Liam.
“You see, it’s not us he loves. It’s our food!”
“He’s too funny,” Cadie said, laughing, and Liam, Levi, and Aidan all smiled—it was good to hear her laugh.
Suddenly, Tuck barked and hurried over to the screen door.
“Hello, there, Tuck,” a familiar voice said.
Liam pushed open the screen door. “Hey, Mike, what’ve you got?”
“Hey, Liam, I have a registered envelope here with your address, but not your name,” Mike said in a perplexed voice.
“What’s the name?”
Mike looked at the envelope. “Acadia Knox.”
“She’s here. Does she have to sign for it?”
“No, you can sign,” Mike said, holding out the card.
Liam looked at the name of the sender—it was from a lawyer’s office. “Great,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Does she have to accept it?”
“No,” Mike said slowly, “but if she doesn’t, whoever sent it can still proceed with whatever they’re doing. That’s why they sent it certified—so they can prove they tried to notify her—which is usually all that’s required.”
Liam looked at it again, trying to decide.
“Legal problems don’t go away because you ignore them,” Mike added, “and you’re almost always better off knowing what they’re up to.”
Liam nodded. “Let me ask.”
While he waited, Mike knelt down and scratched Tuck’s ears. “You must’ve been for a swim,” he said softly as the big dog wiggled around him.
Liam reappeared with the signed card and exchanged it for the envelope. “Sorry to be the one to deliver bad news . . . if that’s the case,” Mike said regretfully.
“What can you do?” Liam said. “Thanks, Mike.”
Mike waved and Liam went back inside. He handed the envelope to Cadie. She tore it open, quickly scanned the contents, and looked up. “Well, he’s definitely going through with it,” she said in a resigned voice.
Chapter 33
The water cascading over Cadie’s thin shoulders felt like a thousand needles pricking her sensitive skin. She tilted her head back, blocking the full force of the spray, and waited for the sensation to subside. Then she reached for the new bottle of shampoo Levi had bought after he noticed her hair was starting to come in. She took off the top, poured a small amount into the palm of her hand, lifted it to her nose, smelled its lovely, fresh scent, and smoothed it into the soft blond fuzz sprouting from her bald head. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shampooed her hair, and although she really didn’t need to now, it felt luxurious, relaxing . . . and normal, and she wondered if people who were blessed with busy, cancer-free lives ever took the time to simply enjoy washing their hair with a fragrant shampoo. She smiled sadly . . . probably not—before cancer, she hadn’t either.
She rinsed her head, reached for the washcloth, and washed with soap that was on the back corner of the tub—it was a masculine scent, but she didn’t care; in fact, now she knew why Liam always smelled so good. With one hand, she held on to the newly installed handicap bar and leaned over to wash her legs, but as she did, white-hot fire surged through her abdomen and she cried out, doubling over in pain and clinging to the bar. She sank to the floor of the tub, her tears masked by the water, and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees. Finally, when the pain eased, she lay back against the back of the tub and looked down at her skeletal body. Her breasts were so small they were practically nonexistent, and the sight of them brought back the stinging humiliation of her husband referring to them as mosquito bites.
She looked farther down at the protruding bones of her hips and watched the water pool in the sunken curve of her abdomen. The water splashed in it like rain drops in a puddle, and as she stared at the smooth skin of her abdomen—under which all hell had broken loose, she wondered—for the millionth time—why her body had betrayed her.
She lightly traced her finger through the stubble of pubic hair, which—like the fuzz on top of her head—was trying to make a comeback . . . and then lower still, curious to see if her body could still be aroused. It had been so long since she’d even thought about sex . . . never mind had it. Her encounters with Taylor had been pretty lackluster, and it made her sad to think that the only time she’d ever really enjoyed a truly amazing orgasm was when she was seventeen . . . and sadder still to know she’d probably never have another one, since there was no way Liam could be aroused by her thin, bony body . . . accentuated with a only disappointing pair of mosquito bites.
There was a knock on the door. “Cadie?” Liam called. “Are you okay?”
She sat up, grimacing as another surge of pain shot through her body. “I’m fine,” she croaked, pulling herself up, and turning off the water. She dried off, wrapped the towel around her, and hobbled over to the counter where her medicine bottles were lined up. She hated taking painkillers because they made her feel drowsy . . . and she didn’t want to sleep away the little time she had left, but after another surge of pain, she swore softly, opened one of the bottles, and popped a pill in her mouth. Then she closed her eyes and waited. Finally, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old, soft, flannel shirt of Liam’s, hung up her towel, and made her way weakly back to bed.
“How’d it go?” Liam asked, appearing in the doorway.
“Good,” she said. “It felt really good to take a shower.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m all set.”
Liam nodded. “Well, would you be up to looking at some old photos . . . ?”
Cadie’s face lit up. “Yes!” she said with a huge smile.
Liam pulled an album from behind his back and handed it to her.
“Sit down,” she said, moving over to make room for him. Liam leaned back against the pillows as Cadie opened the leather book filled with photos that had been carefully tucked into white decorative, adhesive corners stuck to black paper pages. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed, looking at the first few pages filled with old black and white photos of a gorgeous bride on the arm of a handsome groom. “These are beautiful!”
Liam put his hands behind his head and looked down at the photos. He hadn’t looked at the book in years . . . and he’d never shared it with anyone.
“I love old black and whites,” Cadie gushed. “Even though people rave about the pictures they can take with their phones and send to their computers, nothing compares to the rich elegance of an old black-and-white photograph on heavy, textured paper.”
Liam smiled as Cadie “oohed” and “aahed” over the pictures of Lily and Daniel honeymooning in New Hampshire . . . and soon after, of Lily sporting a baby bump . . . and finally, of the proud parents holding their new son. Cadie turned the pages, commenting and pointing as the photos evolved from black and white to glossy, square, colored snapshots with white borders—all of a little boy in typical childhood settings: sitting in a pedal car under a Christmas tree; dressed as a pirate next to a jack-o’-lantern; wearing frog boots and proudly holding a frog; blowing out the candles on birthday cakes; leaning against a tree with his dad . . . or with his arms wrapped tightly around his mom’s neck, giving her a kiss. But what Cadie noticed most about the little boy was that his ocean blue eyes were always full of a sweet serenity and innocence. “Look at you,” Cadie murmured.
Then she turned another page and a handful of loose photos fell out. She picked them up and slowly looked through them—they were of the same boy—older now—sailing, hiking, eating clams . . . and there was one of him with another boy standing on the beach with their arms around each other’s shoulders.
She looked through them again and noticed that something about him was different. She stared at the pictures, trying to figure out what it was, and then she realized that the innocent wonder was gone . . . and even though he was smiling, his eyes were solemn and sad.
“Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to the second boy.
“That’s Jack,” Liam said. “He was my best friend—we were inseparable—we even enlisted together. He saved my life.”
“Do you still keep in touch with him?”
“Sort of . . .” Liam said, “but I don’t know if we will any longer.”
“Why?”
“He’s changed.”
Cadie nodded, sensing his reluctance to talk about it. She looked back down at the pictures and smiled. “Here’s the boy I knew!” she said, spreading out the last of the photos—they were of a slender teenager. There was one of him standing in the boathouse; another of him looking up from working on a boat; another with Cooper, and one of him standing proudly next to his restored runabout . . . and in the last photo he had his arm around a pretty girl. “Wow,” Cadie murmured softly. “I remember when Coop took this picture.”
Liam smiled. “Yeah, he told me I’d need it to remember you by because I’d probably never see you again . . . and he was right.”
“He wasn’t right—you’re seeing me now!”
“True,” Liam said, putting his arm around her, “but it’s been a long time.”
Cadie nodded and looked back at the pictures. “Thank you for sharing these with me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Mmm, you smell good,” he murmured with a smile.
“Thank you,” she said flirtatiously. “It’s my new shampoo.”
“Surf Foam?”
She looked up in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“I saw it on the shelf.”
“Thank you for doing this too.”
“Doing what?”
“You know—all this—taking us in, taking the pressure off Levi, looking out for Aidan, and not letting me die in the hospital or in a stuffy apartment.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Liam said with a grin; then he leaned over and gently kissed her lips . . . and Cadie realized, in surprise, that her body could still be aroused.
She leaned back against him and then Liam stretched out alongside her thin body and put his arm around her and they lay quietly together as a warm summer breeze drifted through the windows. She listened to his soft breathing and to his heart beating and thought, His heart will continue beating long after mine stops....
Chapter 34
When Cadie woke up, Liam was gone, but curled up in the spot where he’d been was Moby. Cadie reached over and lightly touched the soft gray fur and Moby pushed his head up into her hand. Cadie scratched under his white chin and he purred. “What did I do to deserve your company?” she whispered softly, and he blinked, stretched out to his full length, and kept purring.
A moment later, the back door opened and Cadie heard the clicking of paws on the wooden floor. Then she heard Levi reminding Aidan to be quiet.
“It’s okay,” she called. “I’m awake.”
Hearing her voice, Tuck bounded into the room and launched onto the bed, sending Moby scurrying. “You’re such a big lug,” Cadie said, laughing as he stood over her, licking her face.
“Hop down, Tuck,” Levi scolded, following him into the room. “Sorry, Mom,” he said, pulling him off the bed.
“It’s okay, hon. He’s fine. Really.”
Levi shook his head. “No, it’s not—his feet are wet and sandy, and now your sheets are wet and sandy too.”
“They’ll dry,” she said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled away.
“Hey,” she said with a frown. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said, then stopped and looked back. “I’m sorry. I just have to fix a snack for Aidan.”
“Come here,” she said. “His snack can wait.”
Levi reluctantly sat down and watched as the big dog cleaned himself next to the bed. “Tuck, stop,” he scolded again, nudging him with his foot.
Cadie looked down at him and he thumped his tail happily. “He’s just doing what dogs do,” she said softly. “So . . . what’s really the matter? Is taking care of Aidan twenty-four/seven getting to you?”
Levi shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”
“How come I don’t believe you?” she said with a gentle smile.
“He just asks so many questions . . . and he needs to be entertained all the time. I never get a minute to myself . . . to just think or draw . . . or anything.”
“That’s how kids are—they’re busy and curious. You were the same way.”
Levi shook his head. “I could entertain myself—I used to spend hours drawing pictures.”
“Why don’t you give him a pad and some pencils? Maybe he has a knack for drawing too.”
“Maybe,” Levi said, sounding unconvinced.
“But that’s not everything . . .”
Levi bit his lip and looked away.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Look at me. . . .”
“I can’t,” Levi answered, shaking his head, tears stinging his eyes.
“Look at me,” she said again, and as Levi turned, hot tears were spilling down his cheeks. “Oh, hon, it’s going to be okay . . . you’re going to be okay . . . you’re going to get through this. I’m so proud of who you are. You’ve grown up to be a wonderful man . . . and you’re an amazing artist—who’s already had a one-man show on Nantucket, of all places!”
Liam smiled and brushed his cheeks. “I know, but all I want is for you to be here. I’d give up everything if you’d just get better.”
“I want to be here, too, hon, but things don’t always work out the way we want. I’ll be in here, though,” she said, touching his chest. “At least I hope I’ll be.”
“You will be,” he said, fresh tears filling his eyes.
“And you have a lot of other people who are going to fill your life with love—Liam, Aidan, Emma . . . and most importantly, kids of your own someday. By the way, when is Emma coming home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you picking her up?”
“I was going to, but it’s too much with Aidan.”
“You should go,” Cadie said. “Aidan can stay here. I’m sure you could use a break from all this anyway.”
“No, I . . .”
“Levi, I’m hungry,” Aidan called from the kitchen, “and I just spilled the juice. . . .”
Levi groaned and shook his head, and Cadie smiled. “You’re going and that’s that.”
Levi started to get up, but then turned and wrapped his arms around her. “Thanks, Mom,” he said softly. And when he pulled back, he said, “You smell good.”
“It’s my new shampoo,” she said with a grin.
“Hey!” Aidan said, peering around the door. “What’s a man gotta do to get a little food around here?!” Levi rolled his eyes and headed for the door, but before he got there, he turned. “Emma wants to see you. Is that okay?”
Cadie smiled. “I’d love to see her . . .” She hesitated, searching Levi’s eyes. “Don’t let her go, Le—she’s a lovely girl . . . and she’s brave to want to come see me.”
“I know,” Levi said with a half smile. “I won’t let her go.”
Tuck pulled himself up and trotted after him and, moments later, she heard Aidan explain, “Don’t worry about the spill, Le. Tuck got it.”
Cadie looked out the window and watched the waves chasing each other to shore, one after another . . . continuously . . . endlessly—just as they would after she was gone. All of a sudden, the keenness of knowing that life would go on—that the world would keep turning—without her—was almost too much to bear. She pictured all the lovely things she would miss: Levi painting in his studio; showing his artwork in prestigious galleries; marrying his sweet Emma, cradling babies in his arms and bringing them to visit their silver haired grandfather. She could picture Liam sweeping their grandchildren up into his strong arms; taking them sailing and swimming, and teaching them how to make s’mores as they sat around a fire and looked at the stars.
And then she tried to picture Aidan. What would his life be like? How hard would it be for him when he was taken from Levi? Would her parents send him to some faraway prep school? Would he ever be able to have a dog? Would he lose his sweet innocence and curiosity? Would he ever again . . . be happy?
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Please take care of Aidan. . . .”
A moment later, a small voice startled her thoughts. “Here, Mommy, Levi made toast and peanut butter for you.”
“Thanks, hon,” she said, looking up. “Are you having some too?”
“I already had it,” Aidan said as Tuck rested his chin on her bed and gazed at her.
Liam walked over to a small gray building behind the boathouse and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. Although the structure wasn’t nearly as old as the boathouse, a couple of seasons in the salty air had quickly weathered its cedar shake siding and made it look like it had been there forever. Liam flipped through the key ring, came to a small silver key, slipped it into the lock, and turned it. The lock clicked open easily and he slid the heavy wooden doors to the sides, revealing a neatly swept bay. Originally, the barn had been built to store supplies: planking, frames, old masts, booms, and sails, but after Coop died, Liam had cleaned it out and used it to store only one thing. He stepped inside and lifted the corner of a heavy canvas cover, and the warm glow of mahogany and chrome sparkled in the sunlight.
