Morning Glory(25)

“Oh, dear,” I say quickly. “Don’t say that. You know that’s not true. Your mother loves you very much.”

He doesn’t say anything else as we paddle back to the dock, but then his eyes light up when he sees Collin on his boat. He’s fastening a thin piece of wood in place at the stern. “Can we go say hello to him?”

I don’t see the harm in paddling over, so I nod and change course, parking the canoe in front of Collin’s deck.

“Well, hello there,” he says, tipping his cap at us.

Without asking permission, Jimmy leaps out of the canoe onto the deck. “May I see your boat?”

“Jimmy, I—”

“It’s all right,” Collin says kindly. “I could use another pair of hands this afternoon.”

“Really?” Jimmy beams. “I’m good at helping.”

I smile. “As long as you don’t mind.”

I watch the two of them attach the piece of wood to the boat. Jimmy presses his fingers against the edge as if he’s been given the most important job of his life and he’s determined to succeed.

“There,” Collin says. “Now, we’ll varnish it to match the rest of the wood here.” He hands Jimmy a small can and a brush and watches as the child paints the strip with great care.

“That’s the way,” Collin says encouragingly. “You’d make a fine shipbuilder.”

He’d make a good father; that much is clear. I wince when I think about the way Dex is with children, anxious and awkward. It’s not his fault, though. He never knew love as a child. He was never taught how to be around children. Or is it something that needs teaching? Is it something you’re born with? Still, I don’t blame Dex; I just admire Collin’s gentle ways with Jimmy and smile to myself.

“There,” Collin says. “It’s perfect. I couldn’t have finished this part without you.”

Jimmy casts a glance at me, still in the canoe, then back at Collin. “Can I help you again, some other time?”

“You mean, you’re willing to be my assistant? Because I’ve been looking for a good assistant. Someone with strong, steady hands like yours.”

“I’d like to be your assistant,” the boy says earnestly.

“Good, then. You can—”

We all turn when we hear the click-clack of heels on the dock. The tread of an irritated woman.

Naomi. She glances at me and grimaces before turning to her son.

I sense Jimmy’s nervousness.

“Jimmy Allan Clyde,” she says. “Get over here at once.”

Jimmy nods quickly and steps out of the sailboat. “Yes, Mother.”

She sighs. “You’re filthy. I won’t have you wearing your shoes in my living room again.” She snaps her fingers. “Penny, bring him home.”

Collin watches in silence as Jimmy climbs back into the canoe. He casts me an apologetic smile, and I nod without saying anything.

I paddle Jimmy to his back deck and steady the canoe so he can climb out. “Mama,” he says exuberantly. “I helped Collin build his boat!”

“That’s the last time you’ll be doing that,” she snaps. “Get inside.”

“But Mama,” he pleads.

She closes her eyes tightly and points to the back door. He obeys.

“How dare you,” she says to me. Tears tinged with black mascara stain her face.

“I only, I . . .” I don’t know what to say.

“Leave my son alone,” she says. “He doesn’t need your pity.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“You think I’m a bad mother, don’t you?”

“No, I—”

“Well, save your self-righteousness. He is my son, and you can get your hooks out of him right now.”

“Yes,” I say, her words stinging as I paddle away.

I look behind me once, and Naomi’s seated on the ground, on her knees with her head hanging down over her hands. She’s crying—sobbing, really. I feel a pang of emotion then. I’m surprised by it. I don’t expect to feel anything for Naomi, this woman who’s been cold to me since the day I arrived on Boat Street. And yet I see her now, aching like I ache. I see her with new eyes. For once I detect the hidden wrinkles in her carefully starched and pressed world.

Poor Jimmy. I wish I could fix his problems. I wish I could make life happier for him somehow. I grab the rope on the edge of the canoe and wrap it around the cleat in front of my houseboat. The wind has picked up, and I shiver. Upstairs, I select a yellow cashmere cardigan from the closet, remembering how Dex brought it home in March with matching yellow earrings. I slip my arm into the sweater. It feels like warm butter on my skin, luxurious. Dex always buys the best. I notice my dress from last night lying on the chair. I think of Collin and retrieve the ticket I tucked in the pocket. I hold it in my hands for a moment, staring at its wrinkles, studying the words. May 15, 1959. He went to see the movie just last month. With who? The thought makes me feel guilty. Wasn’t that part of my brain supposed to have been lobotomized when I took my marriage vows? I walk to the porthole above the bed, and glance toward Collin’s houseboat, but he isn’t there. I think about how wonderful he was with Jimmy. It makes something flicker inside me. I stare at the sailboat. I’d like to sail away on it, but I know I never will. I never could.