Prologue #2
There was almost nothing left now, and he was still unemployed.
He needed to cast a broader net and look for work outside of Newark.
Perhaps he’d even look here, he’d thought.
He was not a fisherman, but he knew his way around a theater.
Brighton Beach had several. Including one owned by Sophie’s stepbrother.
If only she’d get over her prejudices about Burnie.
He’d offered Isaac a job more than once.
Brighton Beach in winter was a whole different world than summer.
A cold and foreboding one. The ocean was angry.
The waves pounding on the shore reminded him of a feral animal licking its chops.
It could swallow you whole. It might swallow Sophie whole if he didn’t stop her.
He was gaining on her now, running. It wasn’t like Sophie to argue with him and run out into the night.
Did she mean to walk straight into the ocean? She’d been like a stranger tonight, insisting he find someone else, someone less “broken” than her.
“Sophie, wait! Please!” Isaac pleaded. “Put on your coat at least. Let me walk with you.” He approached warily, holding the brown mohair coat out in front of himself like a bullfighter.
Sophie heard the crunch of sand behind her and spun around to see her husband holding out her coat. He moved toward her cautiously, like she was an animal that might bolt. She couldn’t blame him.
Isaac was cold, of course. He might have even said he was freezing as he chased after his grieving wife.
But that was not half so cold as he felt upon seeing her tear-stained face.
Beautiful Sophie, who never cried, who always found the silver lining.
She had not even cried when her own mother died.
But now, illuminated by the cruel gray-gold light before dawn, she looked as if the flood of tears might erode all that was left of her.
Her face was a fragile ruin. Isaac could hear whimpering as well, though Sophie’s lips did not appear to be moving.
He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and made his way toward her slowly. Surprisingly, she didn’t move or try to run away.
“Did you hear that?” Sophie whispered.
“Hear what?” Isaac dabbed at her tears and folded her into his arms. He slid her coat over her shoulders.
“Shhh.” Sophie shook off the coat and stood up straighter. She’d heard something. Something impossible.
“Soph—” Isaac tried again to place the coat on her shoulders, a little more firmly this time. He’d been about to reference the hour, and that neither of them had slept, when he heard the whimpering sound again.
“You hear it, too?” Sophie swallowed. “It’s not just me? I mean, it’s not my imagination?”
“I heard something,” Isaac admitted. “But I’m not sure what it was. Probably a bird.”
They heard it again. Louder this time. More insistent.
“That doesn’t sound like a bird.” Sophie shook her head. She slipped her arms into the coat and cocked an ear to listen. “I think it’s coming from over there, beneath the boardwalk.”
The sun had risen past the horizon now, tinging the clouds with a beautiful rosy glow that recalled the summer sunsets they’d enjoyed here together.
Isaac wanted to grab Sophie’s hand and ask her if she remembered the sunsets, but it didn’t seem appropriate now.
He was just glad she’d stopped crying. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of wagons and the cry of the seagulls, actual birds.
They sounded nothing like the wails coming from beneath the promenade.
“My gods!” Isaac exclaimed. “I think you’re right. That’s?—”
“Definitely not a bird,” Sophie exclaimed.
They both took off running toward the promenade, but Sophie reached the tightly woven seagrass basket first. It was full of colorful rags and long strands of velvety seaweed.
At the center, most improbably, was a pink-cheeked infant!
Her golden blond curls clung to her scalp in wet ringlets.
Her fingers were practically blue with the cold and there was a fine, lacelike rash on her arms. This did nothing to diminish how beautiful she was.
She was probably the most gorgeous baby that Isaac had ever seen. He blinked twice.
“Is that what I think it is?” Isaac gasped.
“We need to bring her back to the hotel.” Sophie already had her coat off, and was trying to swaddle the infant in it.
“Wait, Sophie.” Isaac took off his own coat and handed it to her. “Put your coat back on. You’re already chilled to the bone, I’m sure. I can just hear what your mother would say.”
“We need to warm her up.” Sophie rocked the baby in her arms and massaged her limbs. “She’s got some kind of rash. I think she might be sick. We have to get her back to our room immediately.”
“Don’t you think we ought to send for someone?” Isaac frowned. “The police?”
“To what end?” Sophie’s eyes darkened and her brows knit together.
“To find her parents?” Isaac spoke carefully.
“What kind of parents would leave a child on a frigid beach to die?” Sophie held the child to her chest, rocking it to soothe it. Isaac had to admit it was working. The baby stared at him placidly now, her large green eyes like twin gems.
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “But what if that’s not what happened? What if she was kidnapped?”
“Well, then, I suppose we’ll read about it in the news, won’t we?
” Sophie replied in a singsong voice, speaking more to the baby than to her husband.
The child leaned into her, resting its cheek against her breastbone.
She felt as if her heart might stop. An hour ago, she’d felt as though her whole life was crumbling, too weak to go on.
And now she felt strong enough to slay dragons, if such things existed.
“What is your name?” Sophie cooed. “Wherever did you come from?” Her singsong words were rhythmic, timed with the graceful bouncing and swaying motions she was performing to keep the baby calm and soothed.
It was almost like she was doing ballet.
Isaac had never seen her dance this way before.
He didn’t even know his wife knew how to do ballet. He stared at the two of them.
The baby was looking into Sophie’s eyes now. He could see tears forming in his wife’s eyes again. But not the same tears. These tears welled up without spilling over. They didn’t make her lids any redder or make her eyes swell. They made her eyes shine.
“Isaac?” Sophie murmured. “Do you think there’s any chance we might?—”
“Consider moving to Brighton Beach?” Isaac finished her sentence and stepped closer. He should have been cold, but the golden light of the sun settled around him like a blanket. He began to bounce and sway, matching his wife’s rhythm.
“I was going to say something else.” Sophie’s brow furrowed a bit, and Isaac suppressed the urge to press a finger to her forehead, to smooth it out.
“I know.” He smiled. “But I was one step ahead of you. I was thinking this might be a nice place to raise a family.” Seeing that the infant was falling asleep, he was whispering now.
A single tear spilled out from Sophie’s eye and landed on the child’s cheek. For a moment, the tear sparkled like a prism, orange sunlight creating the illusion of an iridescent patch of skin.
Isaac’s shoes brimmed with sand, but he continued to step and sway from side to side. He reached out his arms to Sophie.
“Do you think I might have a turn holding her now?”