Morning Glory(53)

“‘Will you come back for her?’ I asked. He looked startled, as if my question had stirred a pot deep in his heart. Will you come back for her? I knew he was thinking of Penny then, just as I was. It had been years since her disappearance. The night was a blur to me then, just as it is now. But we both looked out to the lake that day as we always did—hopeful that she’d come sailing in on a boat with puffed sails, eyes sparkling, apologetic for staying away so long.

“‘No,’ Collin said solemnly. There was more finality in his voice than I was comfortable with. Surely he’d return for the Catalina, his pride and joy. I couldn’t understand his reasoning. Collin was a man with sea legs. He was best suited to the water. I’d even heard my mother make an offhand remark about him seeming weaker on land and positively Triton-like in command of a boat. I knew that giving up the Catalina, for him, would be like giving up his right arm, or one of his senses. He’d be crippled without his boat, without his life on the sea. And yet, when I looked into his face that day, I knew there was no talking sense into him. He’d already made up his mind. He was leaving the Catalina with me, and he was leaving Boat Street, forever perhaps.

“‘Just promise me one thing, Jimmy,’ he said. It was impossible not to see the sadness in his expression, the regret. ‘Take her anywhere you like. Sail around the world if you decide, but please, bring her home to Boat Street. She belongs here.’

“I nodded as he took a final look at the sailboat, then the former home of Penny and Dexter, before he patted my shoulder and turned toward the dock. I watched him walk up to the street above until he was gone. That’s the last time I saw Collin.”

“Wow,” I say. “And you’ve kept the Catalina here ever since?”

Jim nods. “Yes. I took her to Mexico and back, and I spent a great deal of time in the San Juan Islands, but just like Collin said, I always brought her home.”

“Why do you think he was so adamant about bringing her home to Boat Street?”

Jim reaches for a rope tied to the mast and pulls it tighter. “For Penny, I suppose. I think in the back of his mind, he retained some hope that she would return.”

I place my hand over my heart in sympathy for Collin. “That’s so romantic. He must have loved her so much.”

“Yes,” Jim says. “We all did.”

“You said you never heard from him again,” I continue. “But did you ever learn how he spent the rest of his life? I’m assuming he—”

Jim shakes his head. “Never knew. And I s’pose part of me doesn’t want to know. I saw him walk away that day. He was in bad shape. He’d probably aged more in those years away from Boat Street than he did in his entire life. I don’t know that he had the strength to keep going after that. But I like to think he found his way.” He runs his hand along an edge of the Catalina’s cream-colored sail, and I imagine how Collin might have stood in this very place, showing a young Jim, Jimmy, the run of a sailboat the way a father might teach a son. I think of Gene and his dementia and wonder if they had that kind of relationship.

I make a mental note to search for more information about Collin. I have to know what happened to him and if he’s still alive. I then turn my thoughts to Penny again. The residents of Boat Street may know what happened to Penny the night of her disappearance, but I’ve made little headway with them. Now that Jim is opening up, will he reveal more information about that fateful night? “What do you think happened to Penny, Jim?”

“Listen,” he says quickly, “I was just a boy.”

I nod. “Of course. I’m sorry, I just—”

“Whatever happened to her, Collin had nothing to do with it.”

I think about Collin’s love for Penny, the way Jim described his sadness. They shared a love of the sea and possibly more. But Penny was married to someone else. Could Collin have snapped? Could he have killed her somehow in a moment of intense jealousy? “You’re sure?”

He looks momentarily exhausted, as though he and every other longtime resident of the dock have carried this burden for far too many years. He sighs. “Collin’s world orbited around Penny. He was willing to risk everything for her. You only do that when you love someone.”

His words pierce my heart, because I know just what he’s talking about.


Nine years prior

James presses his ear to my bare belly as if he can hear Ella talking to him. I’m only twenty-two weeks along, but after our last ultrasound showed our little girl on the screen, we decided to name our baby.