Chapter 22
It had been a very long time since Lindsey had dreamed of her daughter.
But during the murky hours before her alarm rang in Nantucket, she dreamed of Maya, of the coastline, of running up and down the sands beneath the palm trees, singing songs and making up games.
Lindsey had forgotten that, when playing with Maya, she’d been able to pretend she was a kid, too.
She’d forgotten that Maya hadn’t fully understood that Lindsey needed to be rational, sometimes.
That she’d forgotten she was an adult, with adult worries and adult responsibilities.
“Mama,” Maya had said, “this rock is a turtle, and all this ocean is mine.”
It felt cryptic, like a poem.
When Lindsey woke up, Jake was already in the kitchen with a pot of coffee, organizing his notes.
He had a plan of attack, bird-wise, for their trip to Costa Rica.
He couldn’t wait to tell Will more about it.
But he abandoned his notes almost immediately to make Lindsey some toast and pour her a mug of coffee. “How did you sleep?” he asked her.
“I had beautiful dreams,” she said.
Jake smiled. “That’s a good sign, I guess?”
“I think so,” Lindsey said. She considered telling him about Maya, about what she’d said. But she decided to keep it to herself.
In the weeks before departure, Will had prepared them as best as he could for their time at sea.
Lindsey—who’d learned to sail as a young girl—had her sea legs, and Taylor had been on plenty of yachts during her years of fame, but Jake didn’t initially take to it.
Lindsey did her best to tend to him, rubbing his back during his seasickness and making him bowls of soup and mugs of tea.
After three days, Jake announced he was better.
They celebrated with an on-deck barbecue, flipping vegetables and veggie burgers over a little grill.
Lindsey gazed around her—at the gorgeous setting sun and the miles of Atlantic Ocean on all sides.
They hadn’t seen the coast for a day and a half.
It felt as though they were living the most sensational of fairy tales.
The trip to Costa Rica took twenty days.
Throughout, the air shifted, and the sun grew hotter and less forgiving.
Often, they took breaks, tying their boat up at the nearest port so they could swim, rest, and rehydrate.
Lindsey was surprised at how arduous a journey of this length truly was.
After so many hours of onboard work, her arms and legs felt muscular and sure of themselves.
Taylor was tanner than Lindsey had ever seen her.
The four of them felt like they were operating as a team.
On the night before they were set to land in Costa Rica, Lindsey and Taylor kept watch at night. Often, they did shifts, with only one person on deck, beneath the moon, ready to holler if anything wasn’t right. But this time, excitement about what awaited them kept both Taylor and Lindsey awake.
Lindsey, in particular, couldn’t escape the adrenaline pumping through her.
She’d begun to recognize landmarks en route, sights that brought her back to her twenties and thirties, when she’d been a master of these waters.
She couldn’t count the number of scuba diving adventures she’d been on around here. What a life she’d lived, she thought.
It was Taylor who asked Lindsey if she had plans to see Christopher.
Lindsey hadn’t dared say it aloud, but the truth was that she wanted to see him.
She wanted to see Piper, too. She wanted to thank them both for sending the box of Maya’s things, because it had finally allowed Lindsey to say goodbye.
“I want to call him,” Lindsey explained softly. “But it feels too harrowing to call his number.”
“Maybe you should just go to the scuba diving shop and see if he’s there,” Taylor suggested.
“Ooph. Isn’t that harsh?” Lindsey asked. “And dramatic? I don’t want to drop into his life like that.”
“Didn’t you start that place together?” Taylor reminded her.
Lindsey admitted they had. “If I get up the nerve to do it, I’ll do it.”
“You’ve come this far,” Taylor said.
The following morning at eleven, they tied their boat in the Playas del Coco harbor—only two miles away from the house where Lindsey and Christopher had raised their daughter.
Tears filled Lindsey’s eyes, but she couldn’t stop laughing and eyeing the colorful beauty of this land she’d once called home.
Once off the sailboat, Lindsey, Jake, Will, and Taylor burst into town, grateful for land and the freedom it lent them.
They could walk and walk and walk and never get tired.
They wound up at a lunch spot for tacos and guacamole, and Jake suggested they have margaritas to celebrate.
The conversation never grew boring. Will outlined everything he wanted to do over the next few days, as Taylor stretched her arms and announced that she’d help him only to a point.
“I have a date with a book and a beach,” she said, laughing.
Lindsey knew that Taylor had been killing herself with the foundation. The various interviews she’d given had catapulted Maya’s Ocean into the stratosphere, and she’d had nonstop meetings throughout June. She needed a break.
Will kissed her cheek and told her to take all the time she needed.
“There’s a bird that usually only comes out at twilight here in Costa Rica,” Jake said then, reaching for a chip and waving it around excitedly, as though he forgot to eat it. “I read online where to go to see it. I want to head there tonight. You’re all welcome.”
Lindsey squeezed his hand under the table. “You should go and take us another day,” she said.
Jake grinned. She knew that he loved sharing his bird-watching, but there was a particular magic, for him, in seeing a bird by himself. It was his way of communicating with the universe.
After lunch, the four of them parted ways. Lindsey and Jake kissed and whispered that they loved one another, then struck out for their separate adventures. “Good luck, baby,” Jake said. He already knew Lindsey planned to go to the scuba diving shop. He knew she needed to.
It took Lindsey half an hour to walk to the shop. When she first spotted it, she stopped dead, her heart pounding. It looked the same, save for a fresh coat of paint that brightened it up a bit. It also looked dead today. Costa Rica didn’t get as many tourists this time of year.
As Lindsey approached, the door swung open, and Piper came out. She carried two scuba tanks, then propped them on the porch and looked at something on her phone. Piper looked older, obviously. She was probably in her thirties now. Lindsey didn’t know what to say.
But before she could speak, she heard a voice behind her. “Lindsey?”
It was Christopher, coming up the beach. She turned as he came closer, closer. Her hands were clammy. But a smile crept across her face. Christopher smiled back. He was confused yet joyous, as though he’d been waiting for her to come for years.
His smile was Maya’s smile. It yanked Lindsey back through time.
“Hi,” she said, touching her hair.
About a foot away from her, Christopher stopped walking. Piper had noticed them. Lindsey could feel her, staring at them from the porch. Lindsey wanted to tell her not to feel threatened. There was no romantic love between Lindsey and Christopher. Not anymore.
“I wanted to thank you for sending her things,” Lindsey said quietly.
Christopher’s eyes glinted, and she knew he was thinking heavily of Maya, too. Maybe he always did.
“I know it was forward of us,” Christopher said.
“No. It was the right thing,” Lindsey said. “I never should have left the way I did.”
Christopher waved his hand, as though he could brush her worries aside.
It truly all had been so long ago, now, Lindsey knew.
“I’m here with my boyfriend,” Lindsey said. She explained Jake’s line of work and how excited he was to be here. “I never thought I’d be with a scientist.” She laughed.
“He sounds like a genius,” Christopher said. “Did you tell him your ex was a dummy?”
Lindsey burst out laughing. “You’re not dumb, Chris. You were never dumb.”
“Well…” Christopher raised his shoulders.
It was time to do something, or say something, or make plans. Lindsey felt achy. She turned to say hello to Piper, who sprang off the porch and ran to hug her. “You look just like her,” Piper said into Lindsey’s ear, and Lindsey had to bite her tongue to keep from crying.
These were people who mourned Maya every day, just as she did. She’d never imagined how good it was to be around that energy.
It was soon decided that they would meet for dinner tomorrow. Christopher wanted to meet Jake, and Piper wanted to show them her friend’s new restaurant. “It’s the best around here, I swear,” she said.
“I hope your boyfriend won’t run circles around me, conversationally,” Christopher said, laughing.
“He runs circles around me every day,” Lindsey said. “I get dizzy sometimes. But it’s fun.”
Christopher smiled. Lindsey turned and gazed out across the water, toward the little clearing between two almond trees, where Maya used to play. Christopher and Lindsey had called it “Maya’s Spot.” Now, it seemed to glow with an energy that felt otherworldly.
“I’m going to head over there for a second,” Lindsey said.
Christopher nodded, then stepped up onto the porch with Piper. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as though to remind her he loved her and that he’d chosen her.
Lindsey padded through the sand to the little clearing.
Tears spilled from her eyes, but they weren’t sorrowful.
She still ached with missing her daughter, but she wanted to celebrate her life.
When she reached Maya’s Spot, she sat down and drew a heart in the sand.
She whispered to the air and the water and the sky, “Maya was here, and she was the most wonderful little girl. She still lives in me. She still lives in Christopher. She’s still loved. ”
And then, in the second-highest branch of the tree, a keel-billed toucan cawed.
The sound surprised Lindsey so much that she nearly leaped from her skin.
Sitting there in the sand, she gazed up at the bird, smiling wider and wider.
It felt like a sign that everything was going to be all right.
And she wasn’t a scientist. She was happy to believe in signs from the universe.
She didn’t need a rational answer for everything—especially when it came to love.