He placed his coffee cup on an end table and picked a spot on the floor away from the spilled contents of the boxes. “All right. Come on over.” Both dogs spun and twisted, trying to get traction on the slick papers, and eventually piled into Clancy’s lap—two hundred pounds of in-the-moment happiness. He rubbed their ears and scratched their backs and roughhoused with them for a few minutes. “I know I’m not around much this week, but hang in there, all right? Now, listen up. I need to find this damn photo and get some sleep. Okay by you?” Clancy gave them each one last scratch and pointed toward the back of the house. “Outside. Dog door.”
They happily clambered down the bare pine hallway and squeezed themselves through the cutout. The heavy plastic flap closed behind them.
Clancy started in on the mess scattered in front of him, deciding that he might as well organize as he searched. Clearly, Mona hadn’t been overly choosy about what she decided was worth squirreling away for posterity. Clancy found programs from elementary school band recitals, science fair honorable mentions, his kindergarten report card, and his first communion photo from Our Lady of the Isle Catholic Church. But some of the junk was highly entertaining, like an essay he wrote for Mrs. Schmidt’s third-grade class with this unique title: “A Mermaid.” His essay read, “The mermaid is dum and ugly. The legend is really stuped.” Clancy tossed the wide-ruled paper into a box, somehow proud that, though his spelling had improved, his opinion of the mermaid hadn’t changed much in the last twenty-five years.
He uncovered several track ribbons, including a handful from his junior varsity year, and one for his third-place finish in the ten-thousand-meter event at the state high school championships. He found a bunch of shells and sea glass, and a drawing he’d done of his family when he’d been in fifth grade. He stared at it for a moment, deciding it was both sweet and sad. Everyone was standing on the deck of his dad’s old Bermuda sloop, ready to head out for a day sail. His father loomed large over the family the way he always had, and his mother had Duncan pressed into her side, like she was afraid he’d be blown over by the wind. Clancy had drawn himself smiling and making peace signs while Rowan had a bratty look on her face. All in all, fairly accurate, he’d have to say.
That was the year Clancy turned twelve. Flynn Fisheries was still hanging on and the mansion was still their private home. But soon, everything would change. In a few years the fishery would close, they’d open the house as a bed-and-breakfast, and his parents would begin arguing over whether they should sell the family home and acreage to hotel developers. Though it was no longer an issue—thanks to Ash’s plan to restore the Safe Haven and build a marine research institute on a piece of the land—his parents couldn’t find a way to stop arguing. It was as if they couldn’t remember any other way of communicating.
Clancy tossed the drawing into the box he’d designated for school stuff, and kept going. It took about ten minutes, but he spotted it. It was a color photo his mother had taken with her auto-focus 35 mm camera. His dance partner was exactly his height and equally lean, her brown hair hanging loose down her back, just as Clancy remembered. He studied the picture, examining the dynamics of it. They were laughing, the girl arched away from him just enough that they could look into each other’s eyes. Clancy had managed to pull her close on the dance floor, holding her hand against his chest while slipping his other arm around her waist.
Not bad for a fourteen-year-old. Not bad at all.
At that instant, he remembered her name. Evie. One look at this picture and his mind was filled with the sound of the word.
Evie.
The rush of memory and emotion came on so hard and fast that he had to laugh at himself. No wonder he’d forgotten her name—he’d buried it on purpose so he wouldn’t have to remember how much he had loved her.
But there she was in the photo, beautiful in a pale yellow sundress with thin straps and decoration around the bottom. She had on a pair of those hideous, but popular, jelly shoes. He found something fascinating in the delicate curve of her face and the shape of her chin. Clancy popped to a stand and took the photo into the kitchen, where the light was better.