by Mary Carter
“Got her!” the captain said. But a few seconds later, the engine died again, and they just sat there. Bailey closed her eyes and imagined a dramatic ending. What if there was a massive tugboat behind them, and while trying to back up the ferry he slammed into it with a sickening thud? Bailey would be thrown forward like a weightless rag doll. The captain would hit his head on one of the benches before crumpling to the floor. It would all happen so fast. The ferry would begin to tilt. Everything would roll to the right. Brad’s notebooks would careen past her like out-of-control ice skaters.
“Brad.” Even though he wouldn’t be able to hear her, she would shout his name, then pull herself up to one of the windows and be greeted by the sight of the river filling the windows. She would leap into action.
“We’re sinking. Life jackets!” Bailey wouldn’t be afraid to die. Wouldn’t be afraid to see the light Brad had fallen in love with.
But if anything happened to her now, Brad would be a ruined man. He wouldn’t even know that she’d seen the notebooks. He would blame himself for the rest of his life. She would be a hero. Claw her way to the top of the boat, dragging the amateur captain with her. And given that she only had two hands, she would only be able to take one of the notebooks with her. The rest would forever be submerged in an icy grave.
Panic would sober the captain up. They would be forced to jump. The Coast Guard would rush to the rescue, small life rafts would be positioned below them. In the distance she would hear Brad shouting, his voice almost hoarse. He would be rowing toward her in his leaky little boat—wishing desperately he’d heeded her advice about a Jet Ski. She would want to shout back, but she would have to save all her energy for the jump.
The captain would have no problem. He would jump before she could even say any parting words. He would land perfectly in the life raft, look at her, and give her an encouraging thumbs up. “Jump,” the Coast Guard would yell at her, “jump.”
The ferry was going to explode. “Jump,” she would hear again. This time, it would be Brad. Only then would she jump.
The impact of her body slamming into the freezing water would hit Bailey hard. She would be going too fast to grab onto anything, too fast to stop, and within seconds she would be completely underwater. She would struggle to reverse her direction, swim up, and hit her head on a large, hard object. Pain would soar through her, and she would be pulled under once again. Suddenly, she would able to see underwater. Everything would be calm, her head just slightly buzzing now, and she would be surprised how clear the water was, almost as if a light were shining underneath. Suddenly, a wrinkled hand would reach out for her, and a familiar face would hover above her. “Olivia,” Bailey would say, surprised she could talk underwater. And then, everything would go black.
“Um. Hello?” Bailey glanced up. The captain was chewing on a straw. “I think we’re out of gas.”
“Oh,” Bailey said.
“I mean, you can like sit there if you want. But I’m getting off.”
“Me too,” Bailey said.
She took the box and exited the ferry. She looked at the lighthouse. Smoke was coming out of the chimney. The sky was dark early, and the wind was picking up strength. It had yet to start raining, but in the distance was a rumble of thunder. Bailey walked a few steps, then put the box down and lay down on the rocks. She imagined she were a vessel, before there was a light to warn her away from the shoals, crashed out on the rocks. She didn’t know how long she was there before she heard feet crunching on the rocks, coming toward her. She closed her eyes. She felt him lie down beside her.
“Nice night for a nap,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. She felt his fingertips touch hers.
“Bailey,” he said. “This isn’t my life.” With her other hand, Bailey pawed the ground for a weapon. Broken glass, anything she might use to kill him.
“You wanted to live here. You—”
“No,” Brad said. “Those are just the details. You are my life.”
“Oh,” Bailey said. She stopped searching for something sharp.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Brad said. “I can’t.”
“I don’t want to go,” Bailey said.
“You can’t,” Brad said. “The ferry is out of gas.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m the one who siphoned it out,” Brad said.
“You did not.”
“Smell me.” Brad shoved his hand under her nose.
“Good thing I didn’t light up a cigarette,” Bailey said.
“You don’t smoke.”
“I’m thinking of starting.”
“Don’t you dare. I want you around as long as possible.”
“Ah, but I hear the light is the place to be.”
“It’s overrated.”
“Is it now.”
Brad rolled over and hovered over her. “Name it,” he said. “I’ll go anywhere. Do anything.”
“Why don’t we try sticking it out for a change, Jordan.”
“I can do that. I can stick it out.” He nuzzled her neck and she wrapped her arms around the back of his head. “I’m afraid to contact him,” Brad said. “I’m afraid he’ll reject me.”
“He might. Then again, he might not.”
“I can’t get those years back.”
“Nope.”
“He’s going to like you. I just know it.”
“I’ll make him pancakes.”
“You and me,” Brad said.
“You and me,” Bailey said.
“That’s not what I expected you to say.”
“Life is full of the unexpected.”
“And baby makes three,” Brad said.
“Let’s take one thing at a time,” Bailey said.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Brad said. “But I’m not going to be afraid to try.”
“Good to know.”
He reached over and took her hand. “Hey,” he said. “You have nails.”
“What?” She curled her fingers in and felt them dig into her palms. “My God,” she said. “I never noticed.”
“It’s a new day,” Brad said.
“I like the sound of that.”
“While we’re on the subject of trying new things . . .”
“Oh God.”
“Don’t panic. It’s something I can do anywhere.”
“Are you getting cold? I’m getting kind of cold. And was that thunder? We should get inside before it starts to rain.”
“It’s not a new idea by any means, but I think I can pull it off.” The wind picked up, and the orange cone Bailey had used to mark off the broken part of the dock sailed past them. Thunder rolled again, and then lightning cracked over the river as rain began to fall.
“We’d better get inside,” Bailey said.
“I promise you—it’s exciting.”
“Great.”
“You can do it with me.”
“We’ll see.” Bailey wrapped her arms around the back of Brad’s head, pulled him into her, and kissed him long and hard, as if trying to kiss all the ideas out of his head. Their foghorn pierced the air, and when the light from the tower swept over them, it seemed to linger, like a spotlight, before going to black. When Bailey finally let go, Brad struggled to his feet and then helped haul Bailey up. Together they braced against the wind and the rain and started walking back to the keeper’s house.
“And I know where we’re going to spread Olivia’s ashes.”
“Where?”
“Remember the gambling cruise that goes by every year?”
“Uh-huh.”
“We should take it. Play a hand of poker, then set her free, into the Hudson.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.”
Brad pulled Bailey in closer. “A screenplay!” he shouted over the wind, and the thunder, and the lightning, and the foghorn, and the occulting white light. “I’m going to write a screenplay.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’ll ma
ke tons of money, and you can be my cowriter.”
“Wonderful.”
“It’ll be based on our lives, only way more exciting.”
“Good call.”
“And screenwriters can live anywhere. And what’s more romantic and inspiring for a writer than a lighthouse? Although once in a while I might have to take a meeting in LA.” Bailey let go of Brad’s arm and broke into a run.
Nails, she thought as her husband chased after her. I’ve grown really sharp nails.
Epilogue
My name is Patrick Jordan, but you can call me ‘Trick’. Just kidding. See, gotcha already. Let me show you the ropes. This is a kick ass lighthouse. I’ll be your guide and feel free to tip me. It’s open year-round as a B&B if you’re brave enough to stay. And not because of the so-called ghost, but because of a newborn baby crying almost twenty-four-seven. Julia Jordan. I think I’ll call her JJ for short. She’s freaking cute except for the crying thing. If you had told me a year ago that I’d get to meet my biological dad, and grandmother, and step-mom, and be an uncle, and live in a freaking lighthouse, I would have thought you’d gone off your meds. But here I am, right? Working hard to educate and entertain you. I’ve been here for two months now and not once have I had to listen to anyone pressure me about what I want to do with my life. See, where I come from that’s kind of like a mortal sin. Or is it moral sin? I can’t remember. I just know I’m supposed to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or something ending in “er” only I don’t have a clue as to what I want to do. Mostly because I want to do everything. So I changed my major in college like a dozen times until my grandfather said he’d had enough of me and threatened to stop bankrolling my future. Which, you know, I don’t blame him. And that’s when I get this little notecard, from this lighthouse, from my biological dad. Pretty awesome, right? I thought my old lady was going to freak, but she was actually relieved. Said she’s felt guilty keeping us apart all these years.
According to the old step-monster (just joshin’, she’s great) I’m a lot like my father. She says we’re Renaissance men, which is just a fancy way of saying we’re good at a lot of things, so we can’t just stick to one dream. Some people are just born knowing what they want, others take a while to discover it. In the meantime, I like it here. Sure you’ve got to take a stupid little rowboat to get anywhere, but I’m building up the biceps which is never a bad thing. And I’m helping Brad (still can’t call him “dad” but at least it rhymes!) write a screenplay. It’s a mix of horror and romance, like Amityville Horror meets The Notebook.
We’ll start here in the Museum Shop where you can view the original Fresnel Lens. Watch your step, there’s baby crap everywhere. Sorry, baby stuff. From here we’ll tour through the main house, including the spooky attic, then we’ll get to climb up to the lighthouse tower, and then back to the house so you can tip me and sign the guest book. Hope you enjoy your tour and come back real soon. If you want to help fund our movie, we’d be much obliged. I’ve already called shotgun for the starring role (kinda weird to play my dad, but when you’re just starting in the biz you can’t be too picky), but if you cough up enough dough we might let you be an extra. Especially if you can scream and weep on cue. We’ve already got the “lights”; now we just need the camera and the action.
Please turn the page for a very special
Q&A with Mary Carter!
Why did you want to write a story about a lighthouse?
Like many people, I’ve always thought of lighthouses as romantic and mysterious. I would love to live in one myself. I also liked how the metaphor of a light designed to guide you to safety can be used a metaphor for a marriage.
What research did you do?
I’ve visited lighthouses around the United States in the past. For this book I did a lot of research online, I watched videos, I read books, and I contacted several lighthouse keepers as well as those involved in conservancy groups to save lighthouses that have been decommissioned. I briefly spoke with a few Coast Guard members as well to try and understand their role in the “access to optic” agreements.
Why the Hudson River?
I was surprised to learn that there used to be fourteen lighthouses on the Hudson River. Today there are nine. I needed Bailey to be under whelmed by the prospect of living in a lighthouse. She says she might have been more excited if it were in Maine, or California, or Scotland. No offense to the location I did choose, but it didn’t quite fit her dream of where she wanted to live.
Can you really buy a lighthouse at an auction?
Yes. The Coast Guard does indeed auction off lighthouses. However, the rules and regulations vary from state to state regarding whether or not you are still going to run the light or decommission it. There are a few privately owned lighthouses that are run as an “aid to navigation” in which the Coast Guard is not involved, but I was told that is no longer allowed—some are simply grandfathered in. Most private owners have to either decommission the light or it has to be run by a board or nonprofit agency, and in that case, the light is normally automated and the Coast Guard is responsible for the maintenance and regulation of the light.
There are many groups dedicated to preserving lighthouses, and they are disturbed by the thought of private owners turning them into for-profit bed-and-breakfasts and decommissioning the lights. They would prefer to see the lighthouse run by a conservancy group whose aim is to keep the light running and make sure all the money goes back into the preservation and maintenance of the lighthouse.
Is a Fresnel lens really that valuable?
Fresnel lenses come in six orders, or sizes. The largest, or the first-order lens, can be up to twelve feet tall and weigh six thousand pounds. They are made of bronze and crystal, all with concentric “beehive” rings with a magnifying glass in the center. And yes, an original fourth-order Fresnel lens could easily fetch $250,000. Modern-day lights are often a solar-powered battery mounted on a steel pole.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU
Mary Carter
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to enhance your group’s reading of Mary Carter’s
The Things I Do for You.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. In what ways are Brad and Bailey similar? In what ways are they different?
2. What role has Bailey played in their past business failures?
3. How have Brad’s and Bailey’s upbringing affected who they are now?
4. Which guest affects Bailey the most? Brad?
5. Olivia Jordan lived a bit of a double life. Why do you think she hid that life from Bailey and Brad?
6. What kind of mother would Bailey be? What kind of father would Brad be?
7. Bailey and Brad run into several couples: Allissa and Greg, Angel and Jake, and their French guests, Dean and Rachel. How does each couple affect Brad and Bailey’s marriage?
8. Guests all come with their own quirks and set of problems. Which guest affected you the most? The least?
9. Elizabeth Jordan wouldn’t be up for Mother of the Year. Has she changed? Would she now make a good grandmother?
10. How has Brad changed from his Near Death Experience? In what ways is he the same?
11. Light and shadow is a theme throughout the book. When the story opens, Bailey is studying shadows while Brad is gravitating toward the light. How is this a metaphor for their marriage? Who has the most power in the marriage? Has it changed throughout their relationship? Does it change during the course of the novel?
12. Marriage is a give and take. Who does more giving and who does more taking when it comes to the Jordans?
13. Will Brad ever change? Should he change?
14. Does Bailey really put up with too much from Brad? Should she leave him? Would Bailey have been happier selling condos in Manhattan?
15. Brad felt a strong need to save the lighthouse—keep the light running. In order to do so he gave up actual ownership of the lighthouse. Do you
agree with his decision? Did this secret damage their marriage the most, or the revelation that he had a son? Do you understand his passion to keep the light running?
16. Is Bailey’s attraction to Jake or Brad’s to Allissa or Angel any real threat to their marriage? Is it normal for couples to have little crushes on someone outside their marriage? When does it cross a line? Did Bailey or Brad ever cross that line?
17. Muhheakantuck is the name the Indians gave to the Hudson River because its conflicting tides make it flow both ways. Captain Jack calls it “The River That Cannot Make Up Its Mind.” Who is most like that river, Bailey or Brad?
18. Is Captain Jack a dangerous criminal or a slighted brother? Were all the strange goings-on in the house due to him, or did Olivia’s ghost ever make a real appearance? How did the presence of her ashes affect Bailey?
19. How has Bailey changed at the very end of the story? How has Brad changed? Who has changed the most? The least? Are they ready to be parents? Is their marriage better or worse off than at the beginning? Why is it significant that they are crashed out on the rocks?
20. By the end, Brad says he is ready to dispose of Olivia’s ashes. Does this mean he’s ready to let go of the past? Will he? Will she? Bailey also says she loves living in the lighthouse and doesn’t want to leave. Is this true, or is she just tired of moving around?
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street