At Wave's End: A Novel

by Patricia Perry Donovan

  “My dad and your mom? Worst-kept secret in Wave’s End.” Backing out of the driveway, David rested his arm behind her. Faith held her breath, feeling his warmth through her T-shirt but resisting the urge to sink against it. “I haven’t seen my dad this happy since—” David dropped his head on the pretense of shifting gears. “Well, let’s just say it’s been a long time.”

  “Do you suppose it’s serious?”

  “They’re adults, Faith. Let them enjoy it, whatever it is. Just drink your coffee.”

  96

  “So, what’s this dire restaurant emergency?” Faith asked.

  “You’ll see.” David turned onto Main Street, and the two talked over a few logistics during the rest of the short drive. Gage was being given a shot as a busboy today. The fresh fish for the wedding meal had been delivered late last night; David had gone back after the rehearsal dinner to slice tuna for the sliders and devein the shrimp.

  “You should have said something. I would have come back and helped. Hey, where are you going?” They’d been so deep into the day’s details she hadn’t noticed the circuitous route David was taking to the restaurant.

  He patted her knee. “Relax. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll get there.”

  While most of Wave’s End slept, Faith stared out the window at the passing string of bungalows. Near the inlet, many had a barren, stripped-down look as their owners embarked on reconstruction.

  “Sometimes when I look around, I wonder how much business we’ll have this summer,” said Faith.

  “It might be a slow start,” he admitted. “But that will give us time to find our rhythm in the restaurant.”

  “Assuming you can find the place,” she teased. Faith didn’t know the beach town all that well, but it did appear David was driving in circles. “Can you hurry it up, please? We have a wedding in a few hours, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  A few moments later, they circled onto Dolphin Terrace, the road running alongside the restaurant. Slowing the jeep as they passed the eatery’s south wall, now repainted a soothing ochre, David paused at the stop sign.

  “Hang on. This is a pretty auspicious day, and I want to remember every detail of our opening,” David said.

  “Reopening,” she corrected. “Which could turn out to be our closing if we don’t get in there and get to work. Can you please park this thing?”

  Inching the jeep out into the intersection, David made a wide left turn onto Ocean Terrace. “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  “What I think is”—Faith bent over to retrieve her coffee mug and notes from the floor of the jeep—“if we want to wow these wedding guests, we better get our butts in gear, like, yesterday.” Out of the car now, Faith crossed the beachfront road, ticking off last-minute items to David, making it almost halfway across the street before she froze and stared up at The Blue Osprey.

  97

  Or rather, the restaurant formerly known as The Blue Osprey, because the weather-beaten, hand-lettered nameplate had vanished.

  A magnificent new sign dangled above the restaurant’s retooled outdoor dining area: a lustrous eggshell oval hanging from a scrolled iron bracket, its gleaming gold letters meticulously carved into the wood spelling out the restaurant’s name.

  It was this last detail that took Faith’s breath away—not because David finally had seen to its installation, because she knew he would, but because the sign no longer read THE BLUE OSPREY.

  Rather, in simple and elegant script, were these words:

  Moon

  &

  Stars

  Bistro

  98

  Faith could only stare up at the sign in amazement. David had followed her rendering of the locket perfectly—almost too perfectly, she thought. Taking a step back, she felt herself wobble, then David’s strong arm clapped around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into him without hesitation this time, grateful for the support.

  “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked softly.

  “Exactly. But when I showed you my design at the train station, you never said a word.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the sign, where the three words nestled in the curve of the crescent moon and a trio of stars twinkled above.

  During that briefest of conversations, and during all of the restaurant discussions that followed, David said nothing about her proposal to change the Blue Osprey’s name.

  And Faith had been just as happy to let it go, deeply regretting her suggestion, a brainstorm that had struck during her final emotional days at The Mermaid’s Purse. Who was she to imagine David might change the name of his beloved restaurant? The new understanding between Faith and her mother had nothing to do with him.

  She, Saint Faith of the Boundaries, had seriously overstepped her own. She would simply save her idea for a future endeavor.

  That’s what made today’s unveiling so much sweeter—because her business partner had put his faith in her and placed Moon & Stars Bistro in lights—quite literally in lights, she realized, once David had reached inside the restaurant entrance and flipped on a rooftop spotlight that shined down on the sign.

  “But The Blue Osprey. That was your baby. Aren’t you sad to see it go?”

  “Of course. But it’s only a name. And we’ll make a new name for ourselves with this one. It symbolizes hope, a fresh start. Hey, you’re not upset I did this without you, are you?” David stepped close to stroke Faith’s damp cheeks.

  “How could I be upset? It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.” She stared up at the sign again. “It looks exactly like—”

  “I know. Your grandmother’s locket.” Turning her face toward him, David kissed her, closing the months-long divide between them, taking her back to that hopelessly low point in the Mermaid’s Purse’s kitchen, after telling the boarders about the foreclosure.

  Dazed, Faith dropped onto one of the patio stools. “How did you know about the locket?”

  “When I told Connie about your design, she showed it to me.”

  “My mother was in on this?”

  As if on cue, the front door opened and Connie appeared. “I certainly was. And I know this morning we agreed to have no more secrets, but this one was already a done deal.”

  She had slipped out again as soon as Faith left her that morning and raced to the restaurant for the unveiling, she explained now.

  Connie turned to survey the building’s new façade. “I have to say, when he showed me your design, I was a little surprised that, given its history, you wanted to memorialize it in your new restaurant.” Connie reached into her pocket and produced the necklace in question.

  “That history doesn’t define us anymore,” Faith said. “You said as much when you explained to me how you chose our new names. As far as I’m concerned, from this point forward, moon and stars is all about the future. About possibilities.”

  Choked with emotion, Connie couldn’t respond.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Faith continued. “For the way you’ve helped Maeve and Merrill, and Roxanne and Gage, and Fred and Mona, and Ellie and Dennis, and the new people and . . . well, everybody. Including me. Especially me.” Her voice cracking, Faith took the necklace from her mother and fastened it around her neck. “It’s time to change this story.”

  Having quietly observed the two for a time, David stepped up and wrapped an arm around each of them. “And perhaps time to prepare for a wedding?”

  “Holy—” Faith glanced down at her watch. “You’re absolutely right. We’ve only got a few hours to finish.”

  David smiled. “Don’t worry. I knew this might distract you this morning, so I called in some reserves for the front of the house.”

  “Reserves?” Faith frowned. “Who could you possibly call on such short . . .”

  Overhead, the Moon & Stars’s spotlight blinked several times before the front door opened again. Faith gasped at the tall, tanned man in a chef’s apron stepping onto the patio.

  “Xander!” Faith fell onto her former boss
and mentor. “What are you doing here? You said it would be impossible to make it this weekend.”

  “Your partner swore me to secrecy,” Xander replied. “And seriously, did you ever think I’d miss your grand opening?”

  “But what about Piquant?” She knew Xander had already engaged an architect to jump-start the seaport renovations.

  “Under control for the moment. After everything you’ve done for me, I wanted to be here. And after today, we’ll be square.” He patted his pocket.

  “See? Isn’t this nice, Faith?” Connie asked. “With Xander here to help David, you can come back to the inn and primp with Ellie.”

  “Are you kidding? And miss the opportunity to work with these two pros? Not a chance.” Faith linked arms with the two men. “I promise I’ll be back in plenty of time to get dolled up. Moon and stars.”

  99

  At the appointed hour, Faith and Ellie waited in wedding finery in the Mermaid’s Purse kitchen, listening for their cue. In the garden, a keyboard’s tinkle mingled with the expectant hum of the assembled guests and floated up through the kitchen screen.

  On tiptoe, Faith peered out the window. “It’s going well so far, don’t you think?”

  “I do.”

  “Make sure you say that outside,” Faith cracked, eyeing the crowd in the yard and noting David’s arrival with satisfaction. Her business partner cleaned up well, she thought, watching him clap the groom on the back and admiring the black shirt and sport coat thrown over his chef’s pants—also black for the occasion. She turned to comment on this to Ellie when her friend sniffled beside her.

  “Wait! The bride’s not allowed to cry.” Faith grabbed a napkin from the counter and dampened it. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

  “I can’t help it. This is so emotional, coming full circle here with you. I feel like it’s the end of an era.” Ellie obediently gazed skyward, allowing Faith to dab at her eyes.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll still see each other loads. Remember, I’ll need to check on my godson.” Pronouncing Ellie’s countenance perfect, Faith positioned herself at her friend’s back and fluffed her veil one final time, the diaphanous fabric landing in a frothy cloud against Ellie’s classic linen sundress.

  “There: all set.”

  “Thanks, Faith.” Ellie’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, no! My something borrowed! They were supposed to be my grandmother’s pearls. My mother must have them.”

  In the backyard, the final keyboard notes faded, and the celebrant solemnly invited the guests to take their seats.

  Faith thought fast. If she ran outside to ask about the pearls, Ingrid would need to come back inside and retrieve them, delaying the ceremony, which wouldn’t be a problem as long as Ellie didn’t mind. Or might there be a simpler solution? Reaching back, Faith unclasped her own necklace. “Will this do?” she asked, offering Ellie her moon and stars locket.

  At the heraldic strum of a guitar, Ellie’s father offered his arm to his daughter, and Faith stepped out onto the porch. The late-afternoon sun bathed her face as she paused at the top of the stairs, drinking in the sight of the small group of well-wishers beaming back at her.

  The storm had lashed these people together, fostering relationships as unexpected as the treasures the East Coast tide continued to return month after month, items presumed stolen by Nadine: bundles of love letters, a cat’s bowl, a wedding ring.

  These expectant faces spanned life’s continuum, from newborn babies, to partners discovering each other in the dusk of life, to those nearing the end of their journey and reflecting back with wisdom.

  And now, the wedding! As the couple exchanged vows, Faith noticed the crystals on the bride’s borrowed locket reflect the waning sunlight with Ellie’s every movement, including their celebratory kiss. Officially married, Ellie handed her bouquet to Faith, then reached out to Merrill for the sleeping Greyson and shifted him to her shoulder. With Phillip guiding his wife and child, the family followed Merrill to Grace’s birdbath, whose base wore a band of sunflowers for the occasion. In accompaniment, the guitarist strummed a plaintive acoustic “Blackbird.”

  Humming along with the Beatles ballad, Faith felt her chest tighten, recalling how the superstorm had plunged Wave’s End—and countless other communities—into the hopeless dead of night, a darkness that stretched into weeks and months. The devastation had broken wings and crippled spirits, but also had provided a moment for the survivors to arise, supported by the Graces and the Alicias and an army of volunteers as they reconstructed their nests.

  As the music ended, Merrill picked up a watering can and slowly filled the birdbath with water, the onlookers’ silence amplifying the gentle gurgle. She then set the can on the ground, staring into the water’s reflection before plucking a sunflower petal and tossing it in. With that action, Faith sensed a lightening of Merrill’s burden, her executing of Grace’s wishes a critical and healing step.

  Heads in the crowd were bowed reverentially when suddenly the snoozing bundle on Ellie’s shoulder wriggled, and Greyson signaled his presence with a lusty yell.

  “My goodness. I’m so sorry.” Flustered, Ellie clutched Greyson to her chest and rocked him. “He must be hungry. I’ll take him inside.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Merrill said. “Grace always said a baby’s cry was the most beautiful sound in the world. I know she’s smiling right now.” Merrill took the fussing Greyson from Ellie and walked away, and the couple followed. The guests took this as a signal to disperse, swarming Ellie and Dennis in a ragged receiving line.

  Lingering at the birdbath, Faith peered at the water’s still surface. A moment later, her mother’s face reflected beside hers.

  “So beautiful,” Connie said.

  “They really are a stunning couple,” Faith agreed.

  “I meant you, silly.” Connie flicked the water with her fingers, rippling their reflections and making the two of them laugh.

  “Grace must be happy. Now, all we need are some birds.” Faith craned her neck at the sky.

  “Congratulations, Ellie and Dennis!” At Gage’s yell, the crowd turned toward the back porch where the teen now clutched a white wrought-iron birdcage festooned with sunflowers. “Sorry, they just got here.”

  “I think you’re about to get your wish, Faith,” Connie observed.

  As the pair watched, Gage lifted the latch on the cage, releasing a pair of snowy doves that soared above the crowd, who cheered and captured the birds’ flight into the clouds on their phones.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” Gage descended the porch steps to mingle with the spectators, gloating with pride over his stunt.

  “That was amazing, Gage. Where do the doves go?” Connie asked.

  Shading his eyes, he squinted into the sky. “They fly right back to their loft. Their handler said they have a homing instinct.”

  “It’s a perfect way to celebrate this day,” Faith said as Gage turned away to chat with another guest. “If only the doves had dunked themselves in Grace’s birdbath.”

  “That would have been a nice touch,” answered Connie. “But we could use it for something else. How about we make a wish?” Burrowing her hand deep in her skirt pocket, Connie produced a penny and held it up. “What do you say, Faith? How will it land: Heads or tails?”

  Faith frowned at her mother. “For a wish? I think you just toss the coin in. No heads or tails.”

  “My goodness, Faith. Must you always be about the rules?” Connie teased. “Just pick one, for old times’ sake: Heads or tails?”

  Heads or tails? Faith stared at the coin, instantly transported back to that long-ago night in the pickup truck, recalling that life-altering ride through the desert on her mother’s lap as vividly as if it had happened yesterday—a journey with a lot of bumps and detours, but one worth making.

  “All right. But only because I can tell you won’t let this go until I do. And this time, I get to toss it.” Taking the coin from her mother, Faith laid it flat on her palm. “I call—”


  But just as she was about to fling the penny into the air, David appeared at her elbow.

  “Hate to rush you,” he said, “but we should head over to Moon and Stars before the crowd.”

  At the delicious sound of her new restaurant’s name, Faith shivered with satisfaction. Accepting David’s outstretched hand, she flung her mother’s penny high into the air, then turned and strolled away with her new partner, unconcerned with the coin’s ultimate flight, secure in the knowledge that, despite the squalls certain to cloud her horizon in the future, her immediate destiny, her moon and stars, were—for this moment in time, at least—perfectly aligned.

  AFTERWORD

  This story is a work of fiction. However, in 2012, a storm of similar magnitude devastated the East Coast, killing thirty-seven people and destroying close to 350,000 homes. Although Hurricane Sandy forever altered the topography of countless neighborhoods, the destruction also triggered an extraordinary surge of community and compassion. With reconstruction ongoing at the superstorm’s five-year mark, this story is intended to honor Sandy’s survivors for their resilience and determination to rise above disaster.

  QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION

  Though At Wave’s End is entirely a work of fiction, a major hurricane devastated the East Coast of the United States at around this same time. Talk about the role of the hurricane in the story, and how it transforms the characters. Are descriptions of the storm and its aftermath authentic? Did reading about the storm lead to a new understanding or awareness of some aspect of natural disasters that you might not have thought about before?

  What do the novel’s opening pages tell you about the relationship between Faith and her mother? How does this relationship change over time?

  Did you like Faith Sterling as a person? What does her chosen profession say about her?