Alex nods. “Strange that Jim wasn’t there, wasn’t it?” He’s lowered his voice. We have to be careful on the water. Sound carries.
I nod. Alex and I stopped by his house to check on him, but he was terse with us, speaking through a crack in the door. “I wonder what’s bothering him?”
“Maybe it’s his dad,” he says. “Gene’s not doing well.”
I hear the interlude to a song on the radio, and I instantly recognize it. “Here’s to Life,” by Shirley Horn. “I love this song.”
“Me, too,” he says, standing. “Dance with me?”
I stand up, and he wraps his arms around me. We fit perfectly, and he holds me with ease, as if we’ve danced like this a hundred, a thousand times.
I listen to the song’s lyrics: “No complaints, and no regrets, I still believe in chasing dreams . . . ” I sigh. “I hope I can look back on my life and feel that way when it’s all said and done,” I say.
“Me, too.”
I close my eyes tightly, then open them again and search Alex’s face—so warm, so anchored to this moment, to me. The tears fill my eyes again. “I want to live again, really live.”
He holds me tighter. “Don’t you see?” he says. “You’re doing that now.”
Our eyes meet for a moment before he cups my face in his hands and pulls me toward him passionately. I close my eyes. I feel like I’m floating. I can see James, suddenly, in the distance. It’s dark, and I can’t make out his face. I open my eyes and step back.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He sounds a little injured, and it makes me feel terrible. For a moment I wonder if I’m worthy of his affection. If he gave me his heart, could I be trusted with it?
“I, I . . . I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He looks down at his feet. “Oh.”
I take a step closer to him and take his hands in mine. “I want to, so much,” I say, shaking my head. I’m a mess. I’m afraid. “I need a sign. I need a sign before I can take the next step. I need him to give his blessing.”
James. I feel him. Is he seeing me now? I’ve often thought that Alex and James would hit it off. They share a sense of humor, a deep humanity. Beneath each of their surfaces, there are so many layers to experience. So many beautiful layers. But would James approve of his wife walking into the arms of a man who possesses the advantage of being alive when James is not?
We face each other for a moment, in silence, as the waves lap against the houseboat. And then a new song comes on the radio. At first I don’t recognize the melody. It’s folksy, and there’s the strumming of a guitar. And then Peter, of Peter, Paul and Mary, is singing. I shake my head, astonished. “Puff, the Magic Dragon, lived by the sea . . .”
Tears sting my eyes. We don’t need to say anything. We know. I nestle my head into Alex’s chest and he holds me as we listen.
I look up at the sky. “Thank you,” I whisper into the night air.
Chapter 29
PENNY
An hour passes, and then two. And shortly after one in the morning, I hear Dexter walk into the houseboat. “Penny?” he calls out.
There’s no sense hiding from him. “I’m out here,” I say.
“Why is there a suitcase in the living room?”
I began packing and then gave up. “I, um, well, it’s Mama,” I say. “She hasn’t been feeling well. I thought I might go over and stay with her for a day or two.”
“Why don’t you let me drive you?” Dex offers sweetly.
“No,” I say. “You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll just catch a cab.”
“At this hour?”
“Sure,” I reply, turning back to the lake. “It’s no trouble.” He kisses me and I can smell the piney scent of gin, lots of gin, on his breath. “Besides, you’ve had a lot to drink. You’ll want to rest.”
He smiles. “Won’t you come to bed? Just for a little while?”
“I really should go take care of Mama,” I say.
He clears his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“What is it?” I think of Collin’s revelations about Dexter’s father and I feel a pang of sorrow, regret. Instead of the forty-three-year-old man standing before me with his handsome, chiseled features and a shadow forming around his jaw, I see a young boy, lonely, lost, a little sad. I bite the edge of my lip. Damn the Wentworths. If his father loves him so much, why doesn’t he come here himself instead of using Collin as a go-between?