Nantucket (10 page)

L
iam lit two old red lanterns, stoked the hot embers in the stone fire pit, and added more wood. “Are you ready to make s'mores?” he asked, eyeing Aidan, whose eyelids were getting heavy and who had Moby curled up on his lap.

Aidan perked up. “I'm ready!” he said, and Liam pulled open the bag of marshmallows and tossed one to Tuck, who caught it and gulped it down all in one fell swoop.

“He likes marshmallows?!”

“He likes everything. Everything except mushrooms and broccoli.”

“I don't like mushrooms or broccoli either,” Aidan said, putting his hand on Tuck's head. “We must be related.”

“You must be,” Cadie said with a laugh.

Liam opened the graham crackers and chocolate, slid three long crackers out of one of the packages, carefully broke them in half, broke the chocolate, set it on the crackers, and then handed out long roasting forks and showed Aidan how to plunge the fork into the soft, puffy marshmallow. “You have to find some hot embers and hold the marshmallow close enough so it toasts but doesn't burn.” Just as he said this, Cadie's marshmallow burst into flames. “Your mother is a beginner. She's showing you how
not
to do it.”

Cadie held up her marshmallow torch and laughed. “I'm just trying to give this party more light,” she said, trying to blow it out, but when the flame grew bigger, she shook it and the fiery marshmallow flew across the yard like a meteor . . . and Tuck, seeing its low trajectory, raced after it.

“It's hot!” Liam called, but the hapless dog scoffed it down in one warm bite.

“Tuck, you're so silly,” Aidan said, laughing. Then, holding up his golden brown marshmallow, he asked, “How's this?”

“Perfect! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a professional,” Liam said approvingly. “Now put it on top of the chocolate and put the other graham cracker on top of that and squeeze them together so the hot marshmallow melts the chocolate.”

Aidan squished the marshmallow sandwich together and took a big bite. “Mmm, this is good,” he said with white fluff and crumbs sticking to his cheeks. “Can I have another?”

“You're supposed to say, ‘Can I have s'more?' ” Liam corrected.

“Ohh,” Aidan said with a grin. “Can I have
s'more?
”

“One more,” Cadie said, keeping a careful eye on her marshmallow, “and then it's time for bed.”

“Mom, it's one
s'more,
” Aidan corrected, putting another marshmallow on his fork and holding it over the fire. Then he looked up at the stars. “This is the best night ever,” he said softly.

Liam looked up too. “It sure is.”

Ten minutes later, while Cadie was tucking Aidan into bed, her phone, which she'd left on the table, hummed. Liam glanced at it and saw there was a message from Levi. When she came back out, he pointed to it. “Your wayward son is making one more stop.”

“
Our
wayward son,” she corrected, “and he deserves to celebrate,” she added with a smile. “He's worked hard for this and he sold four paintings today!”

“Just as long as Devon and Chase don't have too much influence over him. . . .”

“No worries there,” Cadie assured as she texted back. “Levi has a girlfriend.”

“He does?!”

Cadie nodded. “Yes—her name is Emma and they've been going together since college.”

“Was she at the show?”

“No, she couldn't come. She is visiting her family in England. Levi was supposed to go with her, but that was before the opportunity for this show came up.”

“She's British?”

“Yes,” Cadie said. “I think her accent is what really got him—plus, she looks like Emma Watson . . .”

“Who's Emma Watson?”

Cadie eyed him. “She's the actress who plays Hermione in the
Harry Potter
movies.” She paused. “Please tell me you've heard of Harry Potter. . . .”

Liam shrugged, looking puzzled, and Cadie laughed. “You're still keeping the world at arm's length, aren't you?”

Liam smiled. “It's safer that way.”

“Did you ever buy that little house on Tuckernuck Island?”

“I did.”

“Did you restore it?”

“No, I haven't been back.”

“You bought it and you haven't been back?!”

Liam nodded and took a sip of his beer. Then he stirred the embers and tiny sparks of light flew up into the night sky. “Tell me more about Levi.”

Cadie took a deep breath and smiled. “He's a love—he always has been. He was a happy baby, never cried, slept through the night almost immediately—in fact, I think my father was disappointed he didn't give me more trouble—just to add to my misery, but he was so good . . . and he was the light of my life. He still is!

“I wish I'd had the courage to leave home and come back to you,” she said sadly. “You deserved to be a part of his life.”

“I wish you had too,” Liam said, leaning back in his chair. “To think that I've had a son all these years and never had the chance to spend time with him.” He shook his head sadly and Cadie felt tears stinging her eyes again. Liam smiled wistfully. “You can still
tell
me about him, though.”

“What else do you want to know?”

Liam looked thoughtful and then his face lit up. “When did he start walking?”

“Ten months,” she said with a proud smile. “He reached all the big milestones early—he was potty trained by two and a half, riding a two-wheeler by three and a half, reading before kindergarten.”

Liam laughed. “Well, he didn't get the overachiever trait from me.”

“We spent a lot of time together,” Cadie recalled. “I didn't work and Taylor was never around, so it was just Levi and me. We went to the park, to the museum, to the library.”

“Sounds like you're a good mom.”

“She's a
great
mom!” Levi said, strolling down the path. Tuck struggled sleepily to his feet and wiggled over to greet him. “Hey! Who's this?” he asked.

“That's Tuck,” Cadie said.

“Hey there, Tuckaroo,” Levi said, kneeling down and tousling Tuck's ears as he wiggled all around him.

Finally, he stood up and sat in one of the chairs. “This is really nice,” he said, admiring the fire pit.

“Thanks,” Liam said, leaning back. “My uncle and I built it a long time ago.”

“Very cool,” Levi confirmed with an approving nod. “By the way, I'm sorry I'm so late.”

“Not a problem,” Cadie said. “How was your evening?”

“It was fun. Boy, can those two drink. I had to drive Devon's car here; then he insisted he could drive back, but I don't know if it was such a good idea.”

“You should've texted me,” Cadie said, frowning. “We could've picked you up.”

“It's fine,” Levi assured her. “You don't need to worry.”

Cadie shook her head. “It's my job to worry.”

“Well, worrying isn't good for your health.”

“It's too late for that.”

Liam listened to them bicker and shook his head. “I guess I didn't miss the arguing.”

“We don't argue,” Cadie insisted.

“Yes, we do,” Levi said with a grin.

“Oh, I give up,” Cadie said wearily as she stood, “and as wonderful as this evening has been, I think I'm going to head to bed—I can hardly keep my eyes open . . . and then you two can get to know each other.”

“Good night, Mom,” Levi said, standing up to give her a hug. “Thank you for everything—especially making the trip out here.”

“You're welcome, hon. I'm glad it went so well.”

“Me too,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I'll come in and make sure you have everything you need,” Liam said, picking up his empty bottle. “Want a beer?” he asked, looking at Levi.

“Sure, what's one more?” Levi said, reaching for a marshmallow and a fork.

Liam eyed him. “I hope
you
know how to make a s'more. . . .”

Levi frowned. “What's a s'more?”

Liam rolled his eyes and Cadie laughed. “He knows what a s'more is. I told you he's like you—he even has your sense of humor.”

Liam followed Cadie inside, rinsed out his bottle, put it in the dish drain, took two more out of the fridge, and set them on the table. “Did I put out a towel and washcloth?” he called.

“You did,” she said. “And you really don't have to give the boys your room.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, peering around the doorway of the spare bedroom. “This bed and Coop's are full-size. Mine is a king, so they'll have plenty of room.”

“I hate to displace you.”

“You're not displacing me,” Liam assured.

“Mmm,” she said, sounding skeptical.

He smiled, lingering, but the years—and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on—seemed to be standing between them. “Good night,” he said.

“Good night. Thank you for everything—that was,
by far,
the best cheeseburger I've ever had.”

“G
uess you found a new friend,” Liam said, eyeing Tuck's head on Levi's lap as he handed him a beer.

Levi stroked Tuck's smooth ears and smiled. “What a great dog.”

Liam took a sip of his beer. “He
is
a good dog . . . and he's good company.”

“When I was growing up, I begged my mom for a dog, but she always said we were too busy and it wouldn't be fair to the dog, but I think it was really because my grandfather hates dogs.”

Liam studied him. “Do you get along with him—your grandfather?”

“No,” Levi answered bluntly. “We hardly speak. I hate the way he treats Mom, and he doesn't give me the time of day. He's completely different with Aidan—scoops him up, swings him around, showers him with gifts.”

“I'm sorry to hear that—I'm sure it has everything to do with me.”

“Well, he should've gotten over that by now.”

Liam took a sip of his beer. “So, tell me how you came to be an artist.”

Levi smiled. “I don't know. I just always loved to draw—even when I was little. If I had a book report to do, I'd spend more time drawing the cover of the book report than I did writing about the book, and when I was in high school, I drew all the posters for the school plays and most of the illustrations for the yearbook—I even designed the cover my senior year.” He paused. “I guess it was my way to escape—I'd get so caught up in a drawing, I'd lose track of time. I'd just listen to music and draw, and by the time I looked up, it would be dark outside.”

“That happens when I'm working on a boat sometimes,” Liam said. “I get so caught up in what I'm doing, I lose track of time.”

“What kind of boats do you work on?”

“Wooden boats—old runabouts, canoes, sailboats—anything made from trees! No fiberglass or plastic. When I was in high school, Coop and I restored an old Chris-Craft, and right now, I'm repairing an eighteen-foot sloop that we built twenty years ago.”

“What happened to her?”

“The owner's son ran her up on some rocks.”

Levi nodded. “That's a cool job. How'd you learn how to do it?”

“From helping Coop,” Liam answered. “He was my mom's brother—he raised me after my parents died.”

Levi nodded. “My mom told me about that. It must've been hard to lose your parents at such a young age.”

“It was. I used to pray every night that they'd be there when I woke up.”

“God must've had other plans for you,” Levi said with a smile.

Liam laughed. “You sound like your mom.”

“Did she say that too?”

“She
did.
”

Levi smiled. “I'm not surprised. She has a pretty strong faith—it's gotten her through some tough times . . . and I guess it's rubbed off on me.”

“It's a good thing to have rubbed off on you,” Liam said. “My mom was the same way—Bible stories, Sunday school, bedtime prayers . . . and even though I was little, I can still remember standing with my hands on her shoulders while she helped me pull on the warm, stiff pants and shirt she'd ironed for church.”

“It's funny how stuff like that stays with you.”

Liam nodded. “She used to wear a perfume called patchouli—it had a very unique scent, and after she died, if I was walking through a department store and happened to see it, I'd stop and smell it—just to remember her, and other times, I'd put a dab on my shirt so I could remember her all day.” He looked up at the stars. “Anyway, Coop was supposed to take me to church, but he wasn't much of a churchgoer. He always said he found God in nature. Needless to say, we didn't go very often, but he did make sure I knew my Bible stories—David and Goliath, Daniel in the Den of Lions, Noah's Ark.” Liam smiled. “So I'm not completely biblically illiterate.”

“He sounds like he was a great guy.”

“He was,” Liam said wistfully. “I wish he was still around so you could meet him . . . and he you. He'd definitely get a kick out of all this. I bet he's having a good laugh about now.”

Levi smiled and then his eyes grew solemn. “She didn't tell you, did she?”

Liam took a sip of his beer. “Tell me what?”

“She has cancer.”

Liam almost choked on the sip he'd just taken. “She does?! What kind?”

“Pancreatic. She was diagnosed two years ago, so it's a miracle she's still alive. She gets tired easily and she almost didn't come this weekend, but she really wanted to see the show . . . and
you.
”

“Is she being treated?”

Levi nodded. “She was having chemo—that's why she wears a wig, but the treatments were making her sick, and the medicine they give people to help them
not
get sick hasn't helped at all. Two weeks ago, she told her doctor she couldn't take it anymore and he stopped her treatments. Almost immediately, she started to feel better, but he warned her that the cancer would spread, without treatment. Her appointment tomorrow is to find out if there's anything else they can do, but I know they've reached the point where they're more concerned about her quality of life.”

“I'm
so
sorry, Levi,” Liam said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought she looked tired and her hair looked darker . . . but it's been so long since I've seen her.”

Levi nodded. “Aidan doesn't know, and neither do my grandparents . . . or if they
do
know, they haven't said anything. I haven't told anyone except Emma—who I only told recently because she was going away. Other than that, there's been no one
to
tell, and I've been going crazy keeping it all inside. That's how I got so much work done these last two years—it was my escape.” His voice was choked with emotion as the feelings he'd been keeping bottled up inside finally spilled out. “I don't know what I'll do if she dies. . . .” he said, his eyes glistening.

I don't know what I'll do either,
Liam thought.
I just got her back.
...