I sit down on the sofa. My hands are trembling. All I can do is wait. Collin will come back for me. He just needs time. He’ll return—tonight, even. And when he does, I’ll be ready.
I walk out to the deck and fix my eyes on the lake. Every passing kayaker could be Collin. Every boat. Every duck in the distance. I don’t take my eyes off the lake. I don’t want to miss him.
Chapter 28
ADA
It’s after nine when Alex knocks on my door the next night. He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me softly. “I thought you were going to be staying over in Portland tonight,” I say.
“I decided to drive back so I could see you.”
I can’t contain my smile. “Really?”
“Really.” He walks into the living room and plops down on the sofa. “What are you working on?”
I quickly close my laptop. I may have told him about my past, but I’m not quite ready for him to read my private memoirs, at least not yet. “Just a little writing project.”
He nods. “Going to Bach on the Dock tomorrow night?”
“Is it already tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Naomi always makes a point of inviting me, even though I’m not an official resident of Boat Street.”
“I’m glad you’ll be there,” I say. “Frankly, with all the stuff I’m finding out about Penny, and the investigation, I’m starting to get a little creeped out by this dock.”
“Oh, don’t let it get to you,” he says. “These folks are a harmless lot. Quirky, but harmless. You should see the way Gene plays the violin. They used to have a full quartet; now it’s just him.”
“Are we supposed to bring anything?”
“Bring an app and a bottle of wine and you’ll be golden.”
The wind has picked up since this morning, and I hear it whistling in the eaves of the houseboat, which is swaying gently now. “Storm’s coming,” Alex says.
I hear a rattling sound upstairs in the direction of my bedroom, and I freeze for a moment. “Did you hear that?”
He nods. “Probably just the wind.”
“No,” I say. “It sounded like someone was opening the porthole in the bedroom.”
Alex stands up. “Want me to go check it out?”
I nod cautiously, then follow him upstairs. At the top of the ladder, I breathe a sigh of relief. “See?” Alex says. “No boogeyman.”
Then I notice the porthole is open. “Alex, something’s not right.” I walk over and pull the little window shut. “I always leave this window closed.”
I can tell he’s startled, just as I am, but he puts on a brave face. “It might have been the wind,” he says. “Look, it’s really rocking the boat out there.” I look out and see the Catalina bobbing on the lake, but we both know the wind wouldn’t be able to blow a solid metal porthole open.
“Want me to stay for a bit longer?” Alex asks once we’ve climbed down the stairs.
I nod.
“I could sing you a lullaby,” he says teasingly. “But you wouldn’t want me to, because I can’t sing.”
I grin. “James used to sing to Ella every night. She had colic as a baby, and singing was the only thing that calmed her down. Well, that and the vacuum cleaner.” Alex grins. “But there was this one song—it’s not even a lullaby—she loved most. He’d sing it over and over again to her, and it became their special lullaby, even as she grew up. He sang it to her the night before she died.”
“What was the song?” Alex asks tenderly. I can tell he wants to be a part of my memories, and yet like a person touring someone’s private garden, he’s careful not to trample the tulips.
“‘Puff, the Magic Dragon,’” I say quietly.
I nestle my head into his shoulder, and when my eyes begin to get heavy, I can hear James singing somewhere very far away.
“Morning,” Alex says the next day. I look at the clock. It’s after nine.
“Did I really fall asleep on the couch?”
“Sure did,” he says, filling a mug with coffee and setting it on the chest in front of the sofa. “And you talk in your sleep.”
The sunlight is bright, and I rub my eyes. “Oh no, what did I say?”
“Something about a deadline and a motorcycle.”
“I have no idea,” I say, smiling.
“Sounds like quite a dream,” he says, sinking into the sofa beside me. “I just hope I was in it.”
“Thanks for staying over last night.”
“You sure you didn’t leave the window open?”
“Maybe I did,” I say.