Nantucket (24 page)

“A
re you sure you want this tired, old bear?” Liam asked as he tucked the stuffed bear from his childhood next to Aidan. Aidan pulled the bear close and nodded, and Liam tousled his hair and stood up to turn off the light.

“Aren't you going to listen to my prayers?” Aidan asked.

“I wasn't sure if you wanted me to,” Liam said, sitting back down and pretending he hadn't forgotten. Just then, Tuck moseyed in, put his chin on the bed, and then launched his whole body onto the bed. He stretched out next to Aidan and rested his big head on his chest. Aidan smiled, clasped his hands together on top of Tuck's head, and solemnly closed his eyes. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Thy love go with me through the night and wake me up in the morning light. God bless Mom, Levi, Em, Sally, Tuck, Moby, Cap . . . and me. Amen.” He opened his eyes and searched Liam's face. “Do you think Mom can hear me?”

Liam pressed his lips together. “I'm sure she can. She's watching over you every minute.”

“I thought so,” Aidan said, stroking Tuck's head. “Good night, Cap.”

“Good night,” Liam said, gently brushing the wisps of blond hair from Aidan's forehead and thinking how much he looked like Cadie. “Sleep tight.”

“Don't let the bed bugs bite,” he murmured sleepily. “Love you.”

Liam smiled. “Love you too,” he said softly, kissing both of them and turning off the light. Even though it was only eight o'clock, he was exhausted and his head was pounding. He filled the sink with hot, sudsy water, and while he washed the plates from their celebratory supper—pancakes—he wondered if Sally had an old cookbook she'd lend him with some foolproof Crock-Pot recipes. He rinsed out the sink, dried his hands, and realized “Love Shack” was playing in his pocket. He slipped the phone out, saw Levi's name, and slid his finger across the screen. “Hey,” he said. “Yep, we made it back, although it was snowing pretty hard when we were coming across . . . yes, he's all tucked in . . . and Tuck's right beside him . . . and I'm right behind them. How're you two doing? Mm-hmm . . . Yes, I'll remember to plug it in . . . Mm-hmm, in the bottom . . . I saw it. Yes, Aidan showed me the little switch on the side, but I'm afraid if I turn off the ringer, I won't hear it . . . No, I doubt I'll feel it . . . Okay, we'll see . . . Thanks . . . I will . . . You too . . . Talk to you soon . . . Say hi to Em . . . Love you too . . . G'night.”

Liam sat at the kitchen table and studied all the icons on the screen, wondering what each one did. He lightly tapped the red musical note on the bottom right and was surprised to see his name appear. He tapped it, and immediately two song titles appeared. He tapped the top one, and “The End of the Innocence” began to play. Smiling, he tapped the second one, and the slow, haunting whistle from Guns N' Roses's 1989 hit “Patience” began to play; he paused, his mind drifting back to that fateful summer day. Then, as the song played, he tapped the screen again and touched the Photos icon; then he tapped Camera Roll and the screen filled with tiny squares. He touched the last square, and a photo of Cadie filled the screen. He stared at it—it was the one he'd taken of Cadie standing in front of the cottage, the one where her pink hat had perfectly matched the blossoms that had cascaded over the roof. “Hey,” he said softly, gazing at the sweet smile that had stolen his heart so long ago.

As he listened to the songs that had reminded Cadie of him, his eyes filled with tears, and long after they'd ended, he continued to gaze at the dark screen.

In the back of his mind, he heard a faint meow, wiped his eyes, and got up to open the door. As he did, a gust of cold wind rushed in, bringing leaves with it, and then Moby trotted proudly in behind them.

“Hold on, there, mister,” Liam said, eyeing him. “What've you got?”

Moby looked up at him, sauntered over, and dropped a dead, furry body at his feet.

“You caught a mole?!”

The gray cat sat on his haunches and licked his paws casually as if it was no big deal.

“I'm impressed!” Liam said, scratching his ears. The old cat pushed his silky head into Liam's palm and purred, and a moment later, he got up and sauntered down the hall. Liam picked up the lifeless rodent and put it on the porch for an early burial. Then he turned off the kitchen lights and headed down the hall. As he walked past Aidan's room, he looked in and realized Moby had curled up on Aidan's other side. He shook his head and then continued down the hall. He turned on the bathroom light, and while he waited for the water coming out of the faucet to warm up, he looked around. It had been almost three weeks since Cadie died, and he still hadn't had the chance—or the initiative—to take down the handicap bars, and although Emma had thrown away all the medicine bottles that had been on the counter, when he opened the cabinet to get some aspirin for his head, he found more.

He gazed at Cadie's name on the labels and new tears filled his eyes. He leaned against the bathroom door and wondered how long it would be before little things—like a name on a medicine bottle or an old song—didn't overwhelm him with waves of grief.

A
idan shuffled sleepily into the kitchen. “Are we going to Sally's for breakfast?”

Liam looked up from making lunch. “I wasn't planning on it. We still have leftover pancakes.”

Aidan yawned, stroking Tuck's head. “I'd rather go to Sally's—like we did on the first first day.”

Liam glanced at the clock. “Well, I guess it depends on how quickly you can get ready.”

Aidan's face brightened. “I can be quick,” he said. “C'mon, Tuck, let's go! We're goin' to Sally's, and you know what that means—bacon
and
muffins!” He raced down the hall with Tuck trotting happily after him.

Liam shook his head. “Life goes on, doesn't it, Mobe?” he murmured, and the gray cat, who was dozing on a kitchen chair, opened one eye. “That reminds me—I need to take care of your late-night conquest.” He finished making Aidan's sandwich, pulled the wax paper out of the drawer, tore off a piece, and wrapped it with the same neat folds he'd been making since he was Aidan's age. Then he tucked the sandwich into Aidan's lunch bag, added a juice box and some cookies, and glanced at the clock again. “Almost ready?” he called.

“Almost,” Aidan called back.

“I'm going outside,” he called, slipping on his jacket.

“Okay, I'll be right out.”

“Don't forget to brush your teeth.”

“But I haven't had breakfast.”

“Well, you won't have the chance afterward.”

“Okay.”

Liam opened the door, realized how mild it was, and took his jacket off again. “Who would've thought we had snow yesterday?” Hearing his words, Moby looked up. “Want to go out?” he asked, and the old cat hopped off the chair, arched his back, and tiptoed slowly toward the door. “Take your time,” Liam said. “We're not in a hurry.” Ignoring his sarcastic comment, Moby brushed slowly through Liam's legs, swishing his tail.

Once outside, he sniffed the body of the deceased and waited while Liam went to get a shovel. “Where should his final resting place be?” Liam asked, walking around the yard and pressing down the soft maze of tunnels. He followed several trails that all seemed to lead to the birdfeeder. “I wonder what the attraction is here,” he murmured to the cat. “Maybe we should put him
here
so all his moley friends can see what happens when they tunnel through
this
yard . . . what do you think, Mobe?” But Moby, who was licking his paws and wiping them over his ears, seemed indifferent to the site of the mole's final resting place. Liam kicked away a small pile of leaves that had accumulated around the hydrangeas and pushed his shovel into the earth. Then he snugly wrapped the mole in the paper towel, set it gently in the hole, and covered it with dirt.

“Whatcha doin'?” Aidan asked, appearing at his side.

“Burying a mole.”

“Moby caught another mole?!”

“Yep,” Liam said as Tuck nosed around the fresh dirt.

“Do moles go to heaven?”

Liam frowned, realizing that here, already, was another question to which he didn't know the answer.

“They do,” he replied.

“I bet God doesn't like it when they dig tunnels in heaven,” Aidan said with a grin.

“I bet He doesn't mind as much as I do,” Liam replied with a chuckle. He looked up. “Ready?”

“Yup.”

“You guys go hop in the truck. I'll be right there.”

“Okay. C'mon, Tuck,” Aidan said, skipping toward the truck with Tuck at his heels. They climbed in and waited while Liam put the shovel in the shed.

“Got your lunch?” Liam asked, climbing in.

Aidan nodded. “It sure is warm today,” he said, leaning over to roll down Tuck's window. “And it was snowing yesterday!”

“I know,” Liam agreed, watching Tuck lean out the window. “I think we're going to have a thunderstorm later though—which won't make Tuck happy.”

“How come?” Aidan asked, putting his hand on Tuck's back.

“I don't know—he's just always been afraid of thunder.”

“You shouldn't be afraid,” Aidan whispered softly in Tuck's ear as he stroked his long copper-colored fur. “It's just the angels bowling. Hey, maybe Mom will be bowling too!”

Ten minutes later they were sitting by the widow in Cuppa Jo when Aidan saw Sally coming over with a tremendous muffin topped with cinnamon streusel. With a smile, she set it in front of him. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “I didn't know you had pumpkin muffins!”

“We have
everything,
” Sally said jovially, kissing the top of his head, “especially for my favorite customer.”

“Me?!” Aidan asked as he peeled off the muffin paper and took a big bite. “Mmm, this is really good,” he mumbled with his mouth full of muffin. Sally laughed and hurried back to help wait on the growing line of customers.

Liam unwrapped his breakfast sandwich, broke off a piece of bacon, and gave it to Tuck, whose big head was resting on his lap. Then he took a sip of coffee and watched the customers coming through the door. In the off-season, almost everyone who came into Sally's was a native Nantucketer, and he waved to several of them. He glanced at his watch. “Need to hurry up, pal, or we'll be late.” As he said this, he saw a woman with dark wavy hair come in with two blond-haired kids in tow. He frowned and waited for her to turn around, but the boy turned first, and when his eyes met Liam's, a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He pulled his mother's sleeve and then motioned to their table, and she turned to look. Immediately, a huge smile spread across her face, and then, as her children watched in dismay, she left their coveted spot near the front of the line. The kids hung back, hoping she'd return, but instead, she motioned for them to follow. The boy groaned, looking longingly at the glass case full of pastries and muffins, and then followed his sister, muttering, “We're gonna be late.”

“Hey,” Tracey said with a smile.

“Hey yourself,” Liam said, standing to give her a hug. As he did, Tuck emerged from under the table and wiggled around them.

“Mom,” T. J. said, finding his smile, “he looks just like Boomer!”

“He does,” Tracey agreed, petting the big golden retriever. “What's his name?”

“Tucket,” Liam said. “What are
you
guys doing here?”

“We,”
Tracey said, putting her arms around her kids, “are headed to school . . .
and
we're probably going to be late . . .
again.
”

Liam eyed her with surprise. “School?!

She nodded, and then realized Aidan and Olivia were eyeing each other shyly. “Liv, can you say ‘hi'?”

“I'm sorry,” Liam said apologetically. “This is Aidan, and we're headed to school too.” He put his hand on Aidan's head. “So, does that mean you're living out here?”

Tracey nodded. “I left Jack, Li. It's a long story. I've been meaning to call you, but it's been so hectic getting the kids settled.” She nodded to Aidan and eyed Liam with raised eyebrows. “The last time I saw you, you were flying solo. How is it that you have such a cute, little breakfast partner?”

Liam laughed. “It's a long story too. Maybe we should drop the kids off and then talk.”

“Okay,” Tracey said, “but I have to feed mine first.” She turned to survey the line and was happy to discover there wasn't one.

“Do you want a coffee?” Liam asked over his shoulder as he refilled his cup.

“Sure,” Tracey said, riffling through her wallet, looking for the twenty she'd stuffed in it that morning.

“How do you take it?”

“Light and sweet.”

Liam shook his head as he polluted her coffee with sugar and cream.

“So, what's good here, Aidan?” Tracey asked as the little boy crumpled up his muffin paper and walked past her to throw it away.

“The pumpkin muffins,” he said with a sugary grin.

Tracey laughed at his enthusiasm and looked at T. J. and Olivia. “How does that sound?”

They both nodded. “I'm also getting a coffee,” she said, handing the young man behind the counter the twenty she'd finally found.

“So, who's your teacher, Aidan?”

“Mrs. Polley.”

“That's Olivia's teacher too!” Tracey said. “Did you hear that, Liv? Aidan's in your class.”

Olivia frowned uncertainly and Aidan explained, “I've been away. Today's my first day back.”

Tracey eyed Liam again as he handed the coffee to her and he grinned. “I told you—it's a long story.”

“I can't wait to hear it,” she said.

Just then, Sally came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ah! I see your paths have finally crossed,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I've been wondering when that would happen.”

“Hi, Sal,” Tracey said, giving her old employer a hug.

“It's about time you stopped in,” Sally teased. Then she noticed Jase waiting to give Tracey her change. “This one's on the house, Jase—Tracey used to work here.”

Jase shrugged, dumped the change back into the drawer, and gave Tracey back her twenty.

“Thanks, Sal. You didn't have to do that.”

“I know I didn't have to. I
wanted
to,” she said, pulling a big piece of bacon from behind her back and holding it out to Tucket. He took it politely and she kissed the top of his head.

“If you're ever looking for help, Sal, let me know. I'm on my own now.”

“I
am
looking for help,” Sally said, looking up in surprise. “Jase is moving back to Boston. When can you start?”

“Whenever you'd like,” Tracey said.

Sally turned to the boy behind the counter. “When are you moving, Jase?”

“Next Saturday,” he said as he made change for a customer, “but I'd like to start packing sooner than that.”

“Can you start Monday?” Sally asked, turning back to Tracey.

“You bet,” Tracey said.

“Perfect,” Sally said, putting her arm around her. “It'll be like old times.”