Chapter 12 #2
“You’ve got the details mostly right, but I’m not sure you’re quite capturing the spirit of the contest,” Marion told her grandson with a chuckle.
She explained to Caitlin that the event was an opportunity for community members to socialize with fellow Dune Islanders during the busy holiday season, without the pressure of hosting people in their homes.
“Serving treats is optional and it’s a contest in name only.
There’s no prize, just bragging rights, and all the participants’ displays are photographed for the online newspaper, The Dune Islander . ”
“What a wonderful way to celebrate with each other,” Caitlin acknowledged.
“So are you gonna do it?” Finn asked, his voice hopeful. “It would look so cool if you put a bazillion lights on those big twirly parts.”
His enthusiasm about decorating the windmill’s arms reminded Caitlin so much of her niece and nephews that she hated letting him down.
But she couldn’t imagine allowing the local media to publish a photo of the windmill, especially now that its windows made it appear so different.
The last thing I want to do is advertise to the entire island that I’ve remodeled the windmill in preparation of selling it.
That would be like extending an open invitation for everyone on the island to comment about my plans—and about my past.
At a loss to explain, she stammered, “Well, I… I would, but…”
Shane piped up, “Shine-Your-Light isn’t held until December 22 and 23. You won’t be on the island then, will you, Caitlin?”
“No. I’m flying back to New Mexico on December 21. Sadly, that means I can’t enter the contest,” she said, even though she was relieved she had a valid excuse not to participate.
“That’s too bad,” Finn said. “Cause you’d totally win.”
“Maybe next year,” his mother innocently remarked. Clearly, Marion hadn’t told her son or daughter-in-law about Caitlin’s plans to sell the property, which Caitlin appreciated.
As everyone else debated who they thought would put on the most impressive light display this season, Caitlin turned to give Shane a grateful smile for coming to her rescue.
Apparently, he recognized her relief because he nodded and winked, and she was sure Marion noticed, but Caitlin was too happy to care.
An hour later, when everyone was gathered around the table, Marion asked them to hold hands while she said grace.
Darren’s daughter, Natalie, was sitting to Caitlin’s left, and Shane was to her right, and when she slid her palm against his, she was so aware of the softness of his touch that she could hardly concentrate on what her hostess was saying until Marion ended, “Amen.”
When everyone lifted their heads, the hospitable matriarch announced, “Shane and Caitlin, we have a family tradition. In lieu of making a toast, before eating we each say one thing we’re especially thankful for this year.
We’ll start on this side of the table and go counter-clockwise, so you’ll have a chance to think about it before your turn. ”
Jordan began by expressing thanks that his arm, which he’d broken, had healed well enough for him to play basketball this season.
Next, Jeannine said she was grateful that Darren had found a full-time position again after being laid off, and he, in turn, kissed her cheek and said how fortunate he felt that she’d been so supportive of him.
Finn announced, “I’m really super glad that on Thanksgiving Mom doesn’t make me eat any vegetables.”
“You’re going to eat corn,” his brother pointed out. “Corn’s a vegetable and you love it.”
“Yeah, but it’s yellow. I mean I don’t have to eat the green kind,” he clarified, and everyone laughed.
“I’m thankful I have a nice tutor to help me with my math homework,” Natalie sweetly stated.
Caitlin was the next person to offer thanks. It had been such a difficult autumn, but in the warmth of the moment, her answer came easily. “I’m very thankful that I get to spend Thanksgiving with all of you, instead of all alone.”
Then it was Shane’s turn. As he squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, Caitlin realized he was wearing the forest green Aran sweater he’d had on the day she’d run into him in the pub.
She shifted slightly to see him better but tried not to stare.
“It’s difficult to choose just one thing I’m especially grateful for this year, but I’d say I’m most thankful that business is picking up and I’m able to spend my time doing work that’s meaningful to me and to my clients,” he said, and Caitlin couldn’t help but feel he was including her and the windmill remodel in his comment.
“Caitlin sort of stole my answer,” Marion teased. “I was going to say I especially appreciate being able to spend Thanksgiving with all of you. But now I guess I should come up with something else…” She bit her bottom lip, contemplating.
“Duplication’s okay, Mom,” Darren prompted.
“Especially when it’s heartfelt,” Jeanine agreed.
“What you really mean is especially when the food is getting cold—I can take a hint.” Marion laughed good-naturedly. “All right, enough said. Let’s eat!”
After enjoying second and third helpings of their veritable Thanksgiving feast, everyone pitched in to clear the table, store the leftovers, and wash, dry, and put away all the pots, pans, and other dishes that couldn’t fit into the dishwasher.
Tidying the dining room and kitchen took well over an hour, but even then, everyone still felt too full to eat dessert.
“Let’s take Pepper for a walk on the beach,” Natalie suggested. But Marion pointed out that the little animal was too tuckered from his earlier excursion.
“To be honest, I’m a little tired, too. I could use a nap,” she admitted. “Why don’t you all go without us, and when we reconvene, we’ll have pie?”
“The guys probably want to watch the game. I’ll take the children to the beach,” said Jeannine. “Do you want to come with us or are you a football fan, Caitlin?”
“I’d love to go with you.”
“Me, too,” said Shane.
“Really?” objected Darren. “You know you’re making me look bad for staying behind, don’t you?”
“Sorry, man,” he replied. “But if my team’s not playing, I’m not watching.”
So Jeannine, Caitlin, Shane, and the three children set off down the street and through the woods behind the cottages. They descended the staircase and at the bottom, Jordan urged his siblings, “Let’s go this way this time!”
As they headed south, toward the inlet, a surge of panic filled Caitlin’s heart.
She hadn’t been to that part of the beach—where Nicole had drowned—in twenty years.
Could she really go there now? But then she decided she’d be too distracted by watching the kids and conversing with Jeannine and Shane to dwell on what happened to Nicole there.
The tide was out, so the children wove their way through the maze of long, narrow tidal pools while the adult slowly strolled along the drier sand, chatting about Jeannine’s work as a part-time nurse.
She was interrupted by her daughter’s screams; the boys seemed to be ganging up to throw seaweed at their sister.
Jeannine cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at them to stop, but when they continued, she said, “Excuse me, I need to put an end to this before it escalates.”
She broke into a sprint and soon she was a hundred yards away. Shane and Caitlin continued to hug the shoreline. As they approached the “end” of the beach where the river would divide Lucy’s Ham from Benjamin’s Manor when the tide came in, Caitlin spotted a bench overlooking the inlet.
“Hey, look, that was never there when I was a teenager. I’ll race you to it.”
Shane groaned. “Let me save you the effort. You win, I concede. I’m so stuffed I can hardly move.”
“That’s exactly why you need to pick up your pace,” Caitlin called over her shoulder, as she began to jog. “It’s good for digestion.”
“Show-off!” he shouted, making no attempt to catch up with her.
When she neared the bench, she noticed what looked like a slanted, waist-high table in front of it. Oh, cool, it’s a plaque of some sort , she realized.
But when Caitlin drew closer, she gasped to see the plaque was superimposed with a large photo of a ballerina.
Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek bun.
Wearing a white, gauzy dress that looked more like a nightgown, the young dancer was striking an Arabesque pose.
Although her face was only shown in profile, Caitlin immediately recognized the girl was Nicole, even before she read her name and the dates of her birth and death beneath the photo.
Her breath was coming in quick puffs and Caitlin gripped a corner of the plaque as she read the inscription:
The tidal river you see 25 yards in front of you during high tide may appear shallow and gentle, but the current is unpredictable.
It can turn swift and strong without warning, knocking waders off their feet.
When the tide is ebbing, the current has the potential to pull a child or small adult out to sea.
When the tide is coming in, it can push them toward the marsh.
Even the most experienced swimmers may have difficulty keeping their heads above water, which is what happened to Nicole Dixon, a young, beautiful ballerina visiting Dune Island on a family vacation.
Unfortunately, despite the heroic efforts of two bystanders, they couldn’t rescue Nicole and she died.
Nicole’s family and the Dune Island community urge you to exercise caution. If you must enter the tidal river, please only go in ankle-deep, and use the buddy system. Taking extra care could save your life and spare your loved ones the grief of losing you.
Caitlin clutched her sides and staggered backward. Reading the plaque was like hearing Nicole’s grandmother all over again, and she was overcome with grief and sadness. Nicole had so much talent, so many dreams . It’s unfathomable that she’ll never go to college or travel or have a career…
“Hey, there,” Shane said softly, touching her arm. “You okay?”
She’ll never fall in love and get married… Nicole is gone. Her life is over .
“I-I-I have a stomach ache.”
“Maybe you should sit down?”
“No. I need to go to my cottage.”
“Sure. We’ll take it slow.”
“I want to go alone—I need to be by myself. Please don’t follow me,” she pleaded. “And tell Marion I’m sorry I can’t come back for…” Too nauseated to say the word pie , Caitlin didn’t finish the sentence.
Her eyes smarted with tears as she hurried to the cottage, where she rinsed her mouth, peeled off her clothes, and stepped into the shower. She stood under the hot spray for nearly twenty minutes, wishing she could wash away her shame and guilt.
What made me hope I could ever be at peace on Dune Island, even for a little while? Reminders of what happened to poor Nicole are everywhere—in the walls, on the beach, in conversations with strangers. They’re such a part of this place—like the salty air—and there’s no escaping them .
It wasn’t as if Caitlin ever expected to forget the accident, but neither had she anticipated that the account of Nicole’s drowning—and her loved ones’ suffering—would be captured on a plaque as a public reminder.
Maybe Lily is a stronger person than I am, or maybe she didn’t feel as ashamed as I do because no one died in the fire her family member started , she thought. But clearly, I’m not very well-adjusted if I can’t even read about Nicole’s drowning twenty years later without falling to pieces.
Adding to her humiliation was the fact that Shane had been there to witness her breakdown.
I hope he didn’t read the plaque and figure out I was upset because of what it says , she fretted.
Because if he questions me about it, I can’t bear to explain how I was involved in Nicole’s drowning. What would he think of me then?
Caitlin’s only consolation was that it was more likely that Shane assumed she’d suddenly retreated because she felt ill from jogging after such a big meal.
She turned off the water, dried her skin and hair, and put on her warmest pajamas.
Then she crawled into bed, thinking, If there’s anything I’m especially grateful for this Thanksgiving, it’s that I’m one day closer to leaving Dune Island.