Sanctuary(18)

"Old Mrs. Fitzsimmons," Jo murmured. "she used to shuck oysters on her porch, with that lazy hound of hers sleeping at her feet beside the rocker."

"The hound passed, too, right after. Guess he didn't see much point in living without her."

"she let me take pictures of her," Jo remembered. "When I was a kid, just learning. I still have them. A couple weren't bad. Mr. David helped me develop them. I must have been such a pest, but she just sat there in her rocker and let me practice on her."

Sitting back, Jo fell into the rhythm of the glider, as slow and monotionous as the rhythm of the island. "I hope it was quick and painless."

"she died in her sleep at the ripe old age of ninety-six. Can't do much better than that."

"No." Jo closed her eyes, the food forgotten. "What was wrong with her cottage?"

"Passed down. The Pendletons bought most of the Fitzslmmons land back in 1923, but she owned her house and the little spit of land it sits on. Went to her granddaughter." Brian lifted the thermos again, drank deeply this time. "A doctor. she's set up a practice here on the island."

"We have a doctor on Desire?" Jo opened her eyes, lifted her brows. "Well, well. How civilized. Are people actually going to her?"

"Seems they are, little by little, anyway. she's dug her toes in."

"she must be the first new permanent resident here in what, ten years? "

:,Thereabouts."

'I can't imagine why . Jo trailed off as it struck her. "It's not Kirby, is it? Kirby Fitzsimmons? she spent summers here a couple of years running when we were kids."

"I guess she liked it well enough to come back."

"I'll be damned. Yirby Fitzsimmons, and a doctor, of all things."

Pleasure bloomed, a surprising sensation she nearly didn't recognize. "We used to pal around together some. I remember the summer Mr. David came to take photographs of the island and brought his family. It cheered her to think of it, the young friend with the quick northern voice, the adventures they'd shared or imagined together.

"You would run off with his boys and wouldn't give me the time of day," Jo continued. "When I wasn't pestering Mr. David to let me take pictures with his camera, I'd go off with Yirby and look for trouble. Christ, that was twenty years ago if it was a day. It was the summer that . .

Brian nodded, then finished the thought. "The summer that Mama left."

"It's all out of focus," Jo murmured, and the pleasure died out of her voice. "Hot sun, long days, steamy nights so full of sound. All the faces." she slipped her fingers under her glasses to rub at her eyes. "Getting up at sunrise so I could follow Mr. David around. Bolting down cold ham sandwiches and cooling off in the river. Mama dug out that old camera for me-that ancient box Brownie-and I would run over to the Fitzsimmons cottage and take pictures until Mrs. Fitzsimmons told Yirby and me to scoot. There were hours and hours, so many hours, until the sun went down and Mama called us home for supper."

she closed her eyes tight. "So much, so many images, yet I can't bring any one of them really clear. Then she was gone. One morning I woke up ready to do all the things a long summer day called for, and she was just gone. And there was nothing to do at all."

"Summer was over," Brian said quietly. "For all of us."

"Yeah." Her hands had gone trembly again. Jo reached in her pockets for cigarettes. "Do you ever think about her?"

"Why would I?"

"Don't you ever wonder where she went? What she did?" Jo took a jerky drag. In her mind she saw long-lidded eyes empty of life. "Or why?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with me." Brian rose, took the plate. "Or you. Or any of us anymore. It's twenty years past that summer, Jo Ellen, and a little late to worry about it now."

she opened her mouth, then shut it again when Brian turned and walked back into the house. But she was worried about it, she thought. And she was terrified.

Lexy was still steaming as she climbed over the dunes toward the beach. Jo had come back, she was sure, to flaunt her success and her snazzy life. And the fact that she'd arrived at Sanctuary hard on the heels of Lexy's own failure didn't strike Lexy as coincidence.

Jo would flap her wings and crow in triumph, while Lexy would have to settle for eating crow. The thought of it made her blood boil as she raced along the tramped-down sand through the dunes, sending sand flying from her sandals.

Not this time, she promised herself This time she would hold her head up, refuse to be cast as inferior in the face of Jo's latest triumph, latest trip, latest wonder. she wasn't going to play the hotshot's baby sister any longer. she'd outgrown that role, Lexy assured herself And it was high time everyone realized it.