Nantucket (14 page)

T
he next few days slipped by—each much like the ones before—and despite Liam's promise to not tiptoe, they all ended up trying to be quiet so Cadie could rest. On the days when she had more energy, she took short walks in the gardens or along the beach or sat on the back porch, soaking up the late-summer sunlight. Other days, she lay in bed, sometimes reading her Bible and sometimes watching the waves chase each other to shore, but mostly, she just slept. The hospice nurse, Lisa, stopped by every day to check on her, and her visits marked the time like the ticking of an old clock.

During these visits, Liam took advantage of the opportunity to run a quick errand or check on the boathouse. He and Levi had fallen into a routine—Levi looking out for Aidan and Liam taking care of Cadie.
Waiting for someone to die
—as Cadie had put it—was much more difficult than he'd imagined, and he'd even begun looking forward to food shopping because it offered a respite from the sadness that hung over the house like a dark cloud.

On the first night, when they'd all been gathered around Cadie's bed, she had decided it was time to tell Aidan, and although frightened tears had trickled down his cheeks, they'd soon dried when she assured him that they'd see each other again—after
he
had lived a long, happy life, of course. “Will Tuck and Moby be there?” he asked, looking up at Liam, who was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, and Liam had brushed tears from his eyes and nodded.

One morning, toward the end of that first week, while Liam was running an errand and Levi was down on the beach with Aidan, Cadie had gone into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and as she waited for the kettle to heat, she wandered over to the back door and gazed at the photo that was hanging there. She studied it, wondering who it was; then she caught her breath, realizing the little boy was Liam and the young couple were his parents—Levi's grandparents. Suddenly, Cadie realized that there was still so much she didn't know about him . . . and time was running out!

The tea kettle sputtered and began to whistle, demanding her attention, and as she turned to pick it up, Liam bumped open the door with his arms full of groceries. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “You're up.”

“Yes, I am! It's funny how I can feel absolutely miserable one day and kind of okay the next.”

“Well, on one of your ‘kind of okay' days, the boys and I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?! What is it?”

“If I tell you,” he said, setting down the groceries, “it won't be a surprise.”

“I suppose not,” she said, dunking her tea bag and wondering what it could be.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“How about some toast and peanut butter?”

“That sounds good.”

Liam pulled a fresh loaf of bread out of a bag, opened it, dropped two slices of bread in the toaster, and opened the cabinet for the peanut butter. “Crunchy or creamy?”

“Creamy,” she said, sitting at the table with her tea. “I love that picture of you with your parents.”

Liam looked up. “You recognized me?”

“Of course,” Cadie said with a smile. “You look just like Levi did at that age, and your mom was beautiful. You look like your dad—who is very handsome by the way—but you definitely have your mom's eyes.”

Liam chuckled as he smoothed peanut butter over the warm toast, cut it in half, and set it in front of her.

“What?” Cadie asked.

“Coop used to say that too,” he said as he spread crunchy peanut butter on his toast.

“Well, it's true,” she said, taking a bite. “Mmm, this is so good—you forget how good something as simple as toast and peanut butter is . . . especially when the peanut butter is all warm and melty.”

“Melty?”

“Mm-hmm, see how it's all
melty
right here?” she said, pointing to the pool of warm, melted peanut butter.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Yes, I see,” he teased.

Cadie took another bite and remembered she had another question. “Mm . . .” she said, her mouth full, “did you ever find your photo album?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said with his mouth full too.

“Well?” Cadie asked, taking a sip of her tea. “Are you gonna show it to me?”

“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.

T
he 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....