Chapter 5 #2
“Right about here,” he says. “You can see where the police came to look for him.”
“But they never found him. The sea kept him.”
“No, honey. They looked all day. They brought a boat and some divers. But they didn’t find him.”
Punkin sits down, cross-legged, and closes her eyes.
“Honey—” I whisper.
“It’s all right, Luce,” Ben says. “Let her be.”
There is something so sad, so gentle in his voice, that I glance to the side of his face. I don’t know what I’m looking for. He stands with his big arms crossed over his ribs, his mouth compressed to a straight line.
Punkin wears her long smocked dress of pale blue flowers and her quilted navy jacket that Maman gave her for her birthday.
Her sunglasses rest on the top of her head, holding her hair from her face.
Her eyes are closed like she’s in yoga class.
I sit down beside her so our knees touch and hold her hand.
She cracks open one eye. “Do you think he knows we’re here?”
“I’m sure he does.”
“I’ll bet he’s sitting next to Papa right now and they’re both looking down at us.”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I’m sure they are.”
She pulls her hand away from mine and hugs herself. Then she opens her eyes and scrambles to her feet. Chief leaps up and licks her hands.
“Okay,” she says. “I think I’m done here.”
—
The silence feels easier as we walk back up the beach. Punkin bounds ahead with Chief, tossing sticks into the water, which he gleefully retrieves.
“I guess it must be rough for her,” says Ben, “losing her dad and everything.”
“She was pretty young when it happened. Barely four. So she doesn’t remember him that well. But she feels the absence, I think. The not having a father when all the other kids do. She never says it, but she feels it.”
“You seem pretty tight, the two of you. Got each other’s backs.”
“Sometimes I worry we’re a little too tight,” I say. “You know, codependent? Because it’s just the two of us.”
He laughs. “That’s a good therapy word. I don’t know. She’s pretty young. Lost her dad. I think it’s okay for her to be attached to her mom.”
He doesn’t mention the other side of it. That I’m maybe too attached to her.
When I don’t reply, he shoves his hands into his pockets and says, “I really am sorry about what happened, Luce. To your—to your partner. When I heard about it, I just—well, I didn’t hear about it, to be honest. Not until your dad mentioned it. I still can’t get over it. That this happened to you.”
“Well, you know what they say. Man plans, God laughs.”
“That’s the truth,” he says.
“It’s funny, though. How we both wound up here at the same time. Don’t you think it’s funny?”
“I don’t know. Been here since February. Don’t know what held you up.”
I laugh. “Wrong turn at Albuquerque.”
We reach the gap in the beach roses. Chief, who has clearly walked this route before, darts straight in. Punkin follows him at a trot.
“After you,” says Ben.
The leaves are starting to drop from the branches; the blooms are long gone. I pick my way a few yards behind Punkin, who jogs to keep up with Chief.
Over my shoulder, I say, “So what brought you here in the dead of winter?”
He doesn’t reply. I turn my head to find him stopped in the path. The bushes reach to his shoulders and his head is framed against the water and the bluing sky. On his face, he wears this stunned look, like I punched him in the gut.
“Ben? Is everything okay?”
Punkin runs back and tugs on my shirt. “Hey there. Can we get a move on, please?”
“Punkin! Honey, don’t be rude. I was talking to Mr. Ressler.”
“Sorry, Mr. Ressler,” she says. “But Chief is running across the meadow and he won’t listen.”
“I got it,” says Ben.
He starts forward and so do I, striding right past the gap in the bushes to where the meadow opens up, just like in summer, except now the grass is gold and short and hides nothing. Chief is plainly visible as he races across the field toward Summerly.
“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” I tell him.
“No, you’re good. You just kind of stunned me there for a second. Forgot what a bubble we live in. Chief! What’s the matter with you?”
Ben shifts into a lope, covering the ground with such elastic speed that you don’t realize just how fast he’s going until he drops back to a walk and stares like an eagle at the long, curving Summerly drive.
I haven’t had time to look around me yet, haven’t had time to take in all the familiar shapes—the giant rhododendrons, the sea grapes, the old guest cottage at the spot where the drive curves to swing around in front of the house itself.
Summerly.
Same old gray shingles, I think. Same sprawling stories, porches, windows, French doors. The turret room where I spent so many hours, listening to music on Laura’s iPod while the ocean rushed back and forth on the beach below.
Ben puts two fingers to his lips and whistles. Chief wheels to a stop, facing us, ears at attention, until we catch up. Ben reaches for his collar as a low-slung roadster the color of Douglas fir roars into view and slings around the curve of the drive.
“Isn’t that Sedge’s dad’s car?” I ask.
“I think his dad passed a couple years ago. Sedge drives it now.”
Chief strains at his collar, like he knows what that car contains and can’t wait to receive it with the appropriate ceremony.
Ben says, “Guess I’d better head over there and get that tractor out of the way. You coming to say hello?”
“You go ahead,” I say. “We’ll catch up later.”
He shrugs. “All right, then. See you around, kiddo,” he says to Punkin.
“Mama,” says Punkin, as we start back up the meadow toward the house, “what about the key?”
“Oh, shoot.” I turn and cup my hands around my mouth. “Ben!”
He stops and turns. I jog forward. When I reach him, there is an odd expression on his face, almost tender.
“What’s up?” he says.
“The envelope.” I draw the key from my pocket and hold it out in my palm. “There was just this key. Do you know what it’s for?”
He plucks the key from my hand and examines it—one side, then the other. The small numbers 8238 etched into the base. “Just this? No note or anything?”
“Nothing.”
Ben looks at me and hands back the key. The tips of his fingers brush the hollow of my hand.
“Sorry, Luce,” he says. “Never seen it before.”
Then he turns to walk back across the meadow to Summerly.