Bittersweet (44 page)

“You'll find someone,” India reassured her the night before they left, and Jessica cried as she looked at her in anguish.

“Mom, there's
no one
out there!” And the moment she heard it, India realized how much the absurdity of what Jessica had said echoed her own feelings. The funny thing was, she didn't care as much now. She was getting used to climbing the mountains alone, doing things that mattered to her, and just being with her children. And whenever an assignment came up, she had her work to give her satisfaction. But she had no man to love her, and sometimes she missed that.

“Jessica,” her mother corrected her with a smile, “if there's no one out there at fifteen, there's no hope for the rest of us, believe me.” But of course, Jessica couldn't imagine why there would be a man for India, at her age. India had actually forgotten that for an instant.

“Mom, you're
ancientl”

“Thank you,” she said calmly, “I needed to hear that.”

Jessica viewed her mother's life as essentially over at forty-four. It was an interesting concept, and reminded India of her conversation with Paul, about not letting Sean screw his life up. She had clearly been tossed in
the same bag as Paul now. Over the hill, and useless. A fossil.

They drove to Harwich the next day, and went through all the familiar rituals, opening the house, making the beds, checking the screens, and running across the street to see their friends. And that night as she lay in bed, India smiled as she listened to the ocean.

She stopped in to see the Parkers the next day, and some other friends. The Parkers invited her to their Fourth of July barbecue, as they always did, and reminded her to bring the children. And when they went, India forced herself not to dwell on the memory of Serena and Paul there the year before. Thinking about it now was pointless.

And as the weeks flew by, she realized that even alone there this year, with no husband to spend her weekends with, and no romance to look forward to, it was turning out to be the perfect summer. It was relaxed and easy and comfortable, and she loved being with her children.

She still missed Paul, in a way, but she had had a postcard from him that told her he was in Kenya, doing pretty much the same thing he had done in Rwanda. And he sounded happy. He had added a P.S. telling her he was still looking for a guy in a slicker for her, and she had smiled when she read it.

It was odd looking back a year, to when she had met him on his yacht, and she and Sam had sailed on it. It had been the beginning of a dream for her, but at least she no longer felt it had ended in a nightmare. She still felt sad remembering what she'd felt for him, but the scars on her heart were beginning to fade, like the scar
on her head she'd gotten the night he left her. She had learned that you couldn't hang on to sorrow forever.

She called Raoul at the end of July, hoping to land an assignment for the time when the kids stayed at the Cape with Doug in August. But so far, Raoul had nothing.

The oddest thing of all was remembering that only a year before, she and Doug had still been together, and doing constant battle. It seemed to her now as though they had been apart forever. It made her pensive to realize how lives changed, and how different things were. A year before, she had been married to Doug, begging him to let her work again, and Serena had still been alive. So much had changed in a year for both of them. So many lives had come and gone, and unexpectedly touched them. She wondered sometimes if Paul thought about the same things as she did. How things had changed in a year for both of them.

Sam had taken sailing lessons in July, and loved them, and she had signed him up for a second session in August. He still talked with awe about the
Sea Star.
And to India, that part of her life seemed like a dream now.

The weather had been good that year too, right up until the end of July, and then suddenly it changed and they had a cold spell. It rained for two days, and got so chilly, she had to force the children to wear sweaters, which they hated.

They stayed inside and watched videos, and she took all of them, and half a dozen of their friends, to the movies. It was harder finding things for them to do in bad weather. But at least Jessica was happy, she had struck up a romance with one of the previously “boring
Boardmans.” Everyone was having a good time. India was only sorry that her last week at the Cape was somewhat dampened by bad weather, but the children didn't mind it as much as she did.

The weather went from bad to worse, and five days before she was due to turn the house and the kids over to Tanya and Doug, she and the children watched the news and saw that there was a hurricane coming straight for them. Sam thought that was terrific.

“Wow!” Sam said, as they all listened to the news bulletins. “Do you think it will wash the house away?” It had happened to someone they knew, years before, and Sam had always been fascinated by it.

“I hope not,” India said calmly. The warnings on the news had told them what to do. Hurricane Barbara was due in two days, and judging by the weather maps, they were directly on its path of promised destruction. The first one of the year so far, Hurricane Adam, had struck the Carolinas two weeks before and caused untold damage. And she hoped that this one wouldn't do the same to them. And despite her reassurance to the children, she was actually a little worried.

Doug called them, concerned, and gave her some helpful instructions. But basically, there wasn't much they could do. If it started to look too dangerous, and they were told to evacuate, she was going to drive them back to Westport. But India was still waiting to hear if it was going to veer away and change its course just enough to spare them. She hoped so.

And in the last hours of the hurricane watch, she got her wish. Hurricane Barbara shifted just enough to unleash an incredible storm on them, but the eye of the
storm was heading now toward Newport, Rhode Island. But in spite of that, the winds still managed to tear off their screens, destroy their trees, and do enough damage to the roof to cause a leak in the kitchen. She was putting buckets under it and rushing around checking windows two days before the end of her stint in the house, when she heard the phone ring. She never answered it anymore, it was always for the children. But they were all out, and she picked it up finally with a look of irritation. There was no one on the line. She would have thought it was a prank, except for the fact that they had been having trouble with the phone lines all morning. It rang again, and did the same thing, and she was sure that either some of the phone lines were down, or they were about to lose their power. And then, when she picked it up a third time, she heard a crackling on the line, and there was so much static she couldn't hear the voice on the other end clearly. All she could hear were intermittent words that meant nothing. And there was no way she could recognize the caller, or even determine if it was a man or a woman.

“I can't hear you!” she shouted, wondering if they could hear her. She thought it might be Doug again, calling to see how they were doing. He had been very upset when she told him the roof was leaking, and was already complaining about what it would cost to repair it.

The phone rang a fourth time, and she ignored it. Whoever it was would have to call back later. A storm window had just blown off her bedroom, and as she wrestled with it, wishing the kids were home to help her, the phone just went on ringing. She picked it up
again, looking exasperated, and this time, along with the static, she could hear some words more clearly, but most of them were missing. Listening to what was being said was like deciphering a puzzle.

“India …coming …storm …coming …” And then something that sounded like
thicker
, and then the phone went dead in her hand. It was obviously for her, but if they were calling to warn her about the storm, they were a little late. She was beginning to feel like Dorothy in
The Wizard of Oz
as, one by one, the storm windows blew off the house and shattered. Looking at the storm raging outside, it was hard to believe the hurricane had missed them, and she felt sorry for the people in Newport.

The children were all visiting friends while she battled with the leak in the kitchen, and another one that had sprung up in the living room. She was startled suddenly to see Sam running toward the house from the beach with a friend, as she looked out the window. They were soaked to the skin, and she tried to wave him inside, but he was beckoning to her. He loved being out in the bad weather.

She stuck her head out the door, fighting the wind, and shouted at him, but he was still too far away to hear her. The sky was so dark, it looked more like night than morning. And she was trying to wave him in, but he continued to ignore her.

She grabbed his raincoat, struggled into her own, and ran outside to see him. She had her head down against the wind, but as she looked up to find Sam, she was struck suddenly by how beautiful it was. The skies were thick and dark, and the wind was so strong, she
could hardly reach him. There was an irresistible feeling of excitement and exhilaration and the power of nature. She could see why Sam loved it.

“Go inside!” she shouted at him, and tried to get his coat on him, but she saw that he was so wet it was pointless. And as she held the slicker out to him, the wind blew it from her hands, and it flew away like a sheet of paper, as they watched it. But Sam was pointing out to sea, and saying something to her. And as her eyes followed the slicker floating into the sky, she saw something in the thick weather beyond it. And then she realized what Sam was saying.

“It's …the …
Sea
…
Star
…” she heard him say finally, as she looked at him and shook her head, knowing it wasn't. The
Sea Star
was still in Europe. Paul would have called her, or at least sent a postcard, if he was coming this way. But Sam was jumping up and down and pointing, as she squinted in the rain. It was a boat of some kind, but it didn't look like a sailboat.

“No, it isn't!” she shouted back. “Go …inside …you'll catch pneumonia….” And then as she tried to pull him along with her, she saw what Sam did. The boat just beyond them, on pitching seas, did look like the
Sea Star
, but couldn't have been. But whoever she was, her sails were full, and she almost looked as though she were sailing through the sky, with the speed of lightning and the wind behind her. India couldn't imagine Paul doing anything that crazy, sailing in a hurricane, even if he had been there. He was far too sensible a sailor. But along with Sam, she stood there and watched the boat anyway, fascinated by it. India was
sure it was a different yacht, but she looked very much like the
Sea Star.
And then finally, she got Sam inside, in spite of his protests, and his friend went in with him. But India stayed outside for another minute to watch the sailboat flying and rolling and pitching. There were huge waves pouring off her bow, and the masts were bobbing and dipping like toothpicks. The boat was still at a considerable distance from the shore, but she seemed to be heading right past them.

India wondered if the sailboat had been far out to sea when the high winds struck, and was now desperately heading for shore to find safety, and she couldn't help wondering if they were in trouble and she should call the Coast Guard.

There were rocks farther up the coast, near the point, and in a storm like this one, any vessel at all would be in danger, even a large boat like this one. And as India began to turn away, she saw Sam and his friend continuing to watch the boat from the window. She was just about to go in, and make hot chocolate for them, when the mists shifted and she saw the boat more clearly, and at that exact same second in her head, she remembered the phone call …coming …storm …coming…. Were they telling her the storm was coming, which she already knew, or were they telling her something very different? The voice had said her name, but she couldn't recognize it, it was too disrupted and too broken, and then she knew as she looked at the boat again, and felt a hand squeeze her heart imperceptibly. She didn't know if she was being crazy, or just foolish. But suddenly she knew that Sam was right. It was the
Sea Star.
No other boat looked quite like her,
and she had come much closer to them in the last few minutes.

India turned to look at Sam through the window, but he had disappeared with his friend, probably to his room … or to watch TV …but she turned back again, watching the boat fighting its way through the storm, as she heard the words again …coming …coming …and perhaps not
thicker
…but
slicker.
…Only he would be crazy enough, and sailed well enough, to do this. And she knew suddenly with certainty that he had called her. But what was he doing?

Instead of going back inside, she walked through the raging storm toward the water. And as she watched the boat, she saw it heading toward the yacht club. She had no idea why, or how he had gotten there, but she knew that Paul was coming …coming …coming …coming through the storm. And he had called to tell her. She began walking at first, and then running toward the point where they were headed. She knew the children would be all right. But she knew something else now too …she wanted to believe it …but it was much too crazy. He wouldn't do this. Or would he? And what if they were dashed against the rocks …what if …why had he done this? It made no sense now … or did it? It had made sense once, so long ago … it had made sense to both of them, not only to her. And as she began running toward the yacht club, through the wind, she knew that she was crazy to think it, or hope it, or believe it…. He wouldn't do this, yet she knew he had as the boat stayed on a steady course, in spite of the heavy seas that fought her.

She saw him pass the rocks on the point, and as the
boat continued to battle the wind and waves, India watched it. Maybe he wasn't even on board, she told herself, so she wouldn't be disappointed. Maybe it was another boat, and not the
Sea Star.
Or maybe he was as foolish as she was, to believe in something they had once had and lost, and at times she still dreamed of. She wanted it to be him now, wanted him to be there, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. She wanted it to be Paul who had called her. And when she reached the yacht club finally, she was breathless. She ran out to the point, and stood there watching, waiting for him.