The crew left them alone most of the time, except when Quinn and Maggie wanted to chat with them. And after lunch, as they sailed peacefully down the coast, she lay on the deck near Quinn and fell asleep, and when she woke, he was sound asleep himself, lying next to her. As she looked over at him, she smiled to herself, thinking that it had been a long time since she lay next to a man, even a friend.
“What are you smiling at?” His voice was a low, gentle rumble as she lay looking at him.
“How do you know I'm smiling? Your eyes are closed,” she said softly, wanting to cuddle up next to him, but she didn't want him to think she was strange. She was just hungry for human contact and affection. It had been so long since she'd had that. And the proximity to Quinn reminded her of that, and was very pleasant.
“I know everything,” he said wisely, as he opened his eyes and looked at her. They were near the bow of the boat, on comfortable mattresses, lying in the sun. The crew were on the fly bridge deck, and the aft deck, and it was nice to be alone. “What were you thinking when you were smiling?” he asked, as he rolled over, and looked at her, with one arm tucked under his head. It was almost like lying in bed next to him, while wearing all their clothes.
“I was smiling because you've been so kind to me … and I love being here with you, Quinn.… I'm going to miss you next winter when you're gone.”
“You'll be busy by then. You'll be teaching again.” He stopped for a minute, and looked at her, and then spoke very softly in their shelter from the wind, as they lay beneath the sails. It was the perfect place to be. “I'll miss you too,” he said honestly, surprised himself that he meant it.
“Will you be lonely out there all alone?” she asked, as she moved imperceptibly closer to him. She didn't realize she'd done that, nor did he. It just seemed easier to talk.
“It's what I need,” he said quietly. “I don't belong here anymore. I don't belong anywhere. My roots are gone… like our trees that fell last winter.… I've fallen, and I'm drifting out to sea.” Just hearing that made her sad for him. She wanted to hold out a hand, but she wasn't sure it would make any difference to him. There was no holding him back, and she had no right to anyway. All she could do was watch him leave and wish him well on his travels. Their time together was limited, and destined to end soon. “I was kind of that way when I was married too. I came and went a lot, but I never really felt I belonged anywhere. I always wanted to be free. My family paid a big price for that, but I couldn't have done it otherwise. I think Jane understood it, but it must have hurt her terribly.” It was what most of her poetry had been about, about letting him go, and knowing that he needed freedom more than he needed her. “I was always unhappy when I thought I was on a leash.”
“And if you had no leash?” she asked quietly.
“I would sail away and probably turn up again eventually, like a bottle in the ocean, with a message in it,” he said, smiling at her. He could smell her perfume again, and feel her warmth as she lay near him.
“What would the message be?” she asked gently, and without thinking, he put an arm around her and pulled her close to him, as they lay on their backs, looking up at the sky and the sails above them. There was nowhere else on earth either of them wanted to be, and no one else they would have wanted to be with. He was perfectly content lying next to her, and he hadn't felt that way in years, nor had she.
“The message would be,” he said thoughtfully, pondering it, “I can't be other than I am… even if I wanted to… the message would be I love you, but I have to be free…if not, I'll die… like a fish out of the ocean, gasping for air….I need the ocean and the sky, and the fine line of the horizon with nothing on it but the sun as it goes down…. That's all I want now, Maggie … wide, open, empty space. Maybe it was all I ever wanted, and I wasn't that honest with myself before. Now I have to be.” And then he looked down at her with her head on his shoulder, and he smiled. “Have you ever seen the green flash when the sun goes down? It just happens for an instant, and you have to be looking at just the right time. It's the most perfect moment in any sunset, and if you blink, you miss it.… That's all I want now… that perfect instant, the green flash when the sun goes down, and night comes. …I have to follow that wherever it leads me….”
“Maybe the green flash you're looking for is within you. Maybe you don't need to run as far as you think.” She knew he was still running from, as much as he was running to, but only he could discover that, as she knew.
She had had her own inner battles over Andrew, and whether or not she could have changed things, or stopped him, or saved him, or was responsible for his death, as Charles had said she was. The moment had come for her finally when she knew that there was nothing she could have done. For her, the truth had come in a thousand tiny moments, like shards that formed a window she could finally look through. It came in talking to others like him, on the phone late at night, and long nights of introspection. It came in moments of prayer, and nights of bitter tears, but in the end what she had seen, as she looked into herself, had brought peace to her. She couldn't have saved him, she couldn't have changed it. All she could do was accept the fact that he was gone now, and had chosen to be. It was about acceptance and surrender, and loving someone enough to let them go forever. That had been the green flash for her, and she hoped that one day Quinn would find that too. He was still tormented about what he hadn't done, and hadn't been, and couldn't do, and until he surrendered and accepted and knew that he couldn't have changed anything, not even himself, he would have to run. It was in standing still that one found the truth, not in running, but that was impossible to explain to anyone. He had to find the answers for himself, wherever he had to go to find them, and until then he would never be free, no matter where he went to find freedom.
She looked at him then with everything she was thinking, and felt for him, and all the gratitude for all he'd done for her, and she turned her face toward him as she looked at him. And as she did, he leaned toward her and kissed her, and they hung in space for an endless instant with their eyes closed, feeling a green flash of their own. It was a moment in which two worlds gently approached each other and melted into one, and neither of them wanted the moment to end. It was a long time before he opened his eyes and looked at her. He wanted her, but knew he had to be honest with her, or whatever they shared would damage both of them.
“I have no idea what that means,” he said gently, and she nodded. In the months of their friendship, she had come to understand who he was. “I'm a man with no past and no future, all I have is the present to give you. My past is worthless, my future doesn't exist yet, and probably never will, not with you. All I can give you is this moment, right now, before I leave. Is that enough for you, Maggie?” He wanted it to be, but he was afraid it wasn't. As he looked at her, he remembered all the years when Jane had looked at him with such disappointment and pain. He knew now that however much he had loved her, she had needed more of him than he had to give, and he didn't want to do that to anyone again. But this woman was different, and maybe for an hour or a moment or these few months before he left, they could share the little he had left to give. She wanted nothing more than that from him.
“It's enough, Quinn…. I'm in the same boat as you.” The past was too painful, the future was unsure, all they had was the present moment and whatever it brought them. They had learned their lessons separately in agonizing ways, and neither of them wanted to give or get more pain than they had already endured and encountered.
“I'm leaving in September, no matter what happens between us. Do you understand that?” His voice sounded firm, and she nodded again, looking peaceful.
“I know,” she whispered, and told herself that whatever did happen, no matter how much she came to love him, if she did, she would have to let him go. It was the only way to love him. Loving him meant never holding him, as well as letting him go, and she knew that to the roots of her soul.
He seemed to relax then, as he pulled her cl
ose to him. They lay side by side together, looking up at the sails, and saying nothing. There was nothing they had to say. They each had all they wanted. All they needed was to lie beside each other, looking up together, into the open sky, above the sails.
9
WHEN THE THREESOME CAME TOGETHER AGAIN ON Friday night, Jack sensed something different between them, and he couldn't figure out what it was. Quinn seemed happier and more relaxed than he had seen him in months. And when Maggie joined them for dinner, she was wearing her long dark hair loose down her back. They had spent the night together on the Molly B the night before. Neither of them was encumbered, their life and time were their own. And they were beginning to spend more and more time together on the boat.
And as usual when they played dice, most of the time Quinn won. Jack stayed until nearly midnight, and Maggie made a point of leaving when he did. And the following morning, she and Quinn left for the boat. They had never spent a night in each other's house, Quinn felt very uncomfortable about sleeping with Maggie in the bed he had shared with Jane, so they didn't. But the Molly B provided neutral turf for them, and it had begun to feel like their own. They were each surprised by their shared passion. Quinn hadn't felt that way in years. And although he hadn't admitted it to her, with Maggie he felt as if he had regained his youth. With him, she had found something she had never known before. Above all, the passion and the love they shared had brought them both peace. It was a union that soothed both their souls. She wouldn't have been ready for it years before, and neither would he. But they had come together at a time that healed them both.
It was another month before Jack looked at them standing near each other one night cooking dinner, and finally figured it out. He couldn't imagine why he hadn't thought of it before. It was days later before he had the courage to mention it to Quinn.
“Did I miss something?” he asked, smiling shyly, not quite sure how to ask what he wanted to know. Quinn was still and always the elder statesman of the group. But Quinn was quick to catch his drift.
“What do you think you missed?” He smiled at the so all his life, and Quinn was proud of him.
“You and Maggie? Is it what I think?”
“It could be.” Quinn smiled at him and handed him a glass of wine. They had just finished their lesson, and all Quinn was doing now was polishing the gem Jack had become. They were reading Robert Frost and Shakespeare and all the poets Jane had loved, and Jack had hungered for. “I'm not sure what it is,” Quinn said honestly. “Whatever it is, we're both happy with it, and that's enough for both of us.” He loved the way she instinctively understood him, the way she let him be who he had to be, but at the same time respected herself. Letting him be himself was not the sacrifice for her it had been for Jane, so he had no need to feel guilty. And having lost so much in her life, Maggie expected less of him. She was tender and loving, and at the same time, independent and self-sufficient. She loved him, and was doing so with wide-open arms, which was exactly what he wanted from her. He never wanted to hurt or disappoint anyone again, as he had Jane.
“Are you in love with her?” Jack asked, looking excited, he wanted it to be that, for both of them. And he had noticed how happy Maggie looked these days. She was either singing in her garden, or happy in her house. She had blossomed like a flower in the sunshine in the past month.
“I'm not sure what that word means anymore,” Quinn said, thinking about it as he looked at Jack. He had become almost like a son to him. “Love is a word that pierces men's hearts, like a poisoned dart, and then they turn and poison someone else. I don't want to do that to anyone anymore.” He had understood fully in the year she'd been gone, just how badly he had hurt Jane. She had forgiven him for it, but he would never forgive himself. And he didn't want to do that to anyone again. “Heinous crimes are committed in the name of love, like holy wars. There's nothing worse.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself,” Jack said wisely. He knew that Quinn was.
“I have to be, Jack. If not, I'll be hard on someone else. I can't do that again, least of all to Maggie. She's had enough pain in her life.” He loved her, but the last person he would admit it to was himself.
“Will you take her with you in September?” Jack asked with interest. He was pleased by the news. He thought they needed each other, and they both deserved happiness, more than most people he knew. And he loved them both.
“No, I won't,” Quinn said without hesitating. He was sure of that, and had told her that from the first. She understood. “This is for now. Neither of us is asking for more than that. There's no future here.” Jack was sad to hear it, but hoped they'd change their minds at some point. And he mentioned to Maggie discreetly the next day that he was pleased about what was happening with Quinn. She smiled, kissed Jack's cheek, and said nothing more. But she was glad that he knew. She had wanted to share it with him, but wasn't quite sure how. She didn't want to be indiscreet about her involvement with Quinn.
The following week was the anniversary date of Jane's death, which was hard for him. Maggie had already been through one with Andrew and knew how hard that day was. And Mother's Day, now that she'd lost her only son, was even worse. Maggie left Quinn alone in the morning of the anniversary, and went for a walk with him in the afternoon. And that night, he spent the night on the boat alone. He seemed better when he came back the next day.
The day after the anniversary, like the hand of destiny meddling in their life again, his house sold. He got the price he wanted for it, the new buyers were moving out from the East in the fall, and they agreed to wait for it until October 1, which worked perfectly for him. It made it more real for Maggie that he was going to leave. But she knew that anyway, and had made her peace with it, or so she said.
And in late June, he invited her to go to Holland with him, to see the boat. He had been over three or four times that spring, to check on it, but this time he wanted to show it to her. He gave her the plane ticket as a gift. She hesitated to accept it, but it was expensive for her, and Quinn knew it. He insisted that she let him invite her, and she was wildly excited when they left. They flew to London on a night flight, and from there flew to Amsterdam. He had booked a beautiful suite at the Amstel to share with her. She felt as though she had died and gone to heaven. And she could hardly wait to see the boat. After studying the plans with him for months, she wanted to see it in the flesh, and he was excited to be showing it to her. It was like taking her to his new home.
They slept for a few hours at the Amstel, and then they went to the shipyard after lunch. It was a beautiful sunny day in Amsterdam, which Quinn knew was rare. And the moment she saw the boat, Maggie caught her breath. She was speechless for a few minutes, and there were tears in her eyes. She had never seen anything as beautiful in her entire life, and it meant the world to her that he had shared it with her.
“Oh my God, Quinn, she's incredible.” Seen from where she sat in dry dock, as Maggie looked up at her, she looked more like an ocean liner than a sailboat. The boat Quinn was building was huge. They rode hydraulic lifts to get on board, and Maggie was amazed at how far the interior work had gone, and it reminded her once again of how soon Quinn would leave. But she wasn't thinking of that now, she was sharing in the joy of the boat with him. He looked proud to see her so impressed. He hadn't dared to hope for a reaction as positive as this. Maggie exhibited pure, unadulterated pleasure on his behalf, and enormous admiration for him. It was a huge undertaking, and she delighted in it for him.
They spent the afternoon at the boatyard with Tem Hakker and his sons, and Quinn went over some more drawings with them. They looked forward to his visits to walk around the boat with him, and suggest improvements in the most recent plans.
Quinn and Maggie had dinner in the hotel that night, and went back to the yard at the crack of dawn the next morning. She got up early with him, and enjoyed the sights she saw on the way back to the boatyard. She was immensely grateful that Quinn had invited her to come with him. She knew that
his sharing that with her was his way of demonstrating to her how much she meant to him. His excitement was tangible as he walked the boat with the Hakkers again. Maggie followed them quietly, listening to their suggestions and Quinn's. And she was amazed once again at the caliber of the work they had done.
The main saloon was wood paneled, as were all the cabins, Quinn's stateroom looked palatial to her, and all of the bathrooms were done in the finest Italian marble. And of course, the decks were teak. They were still working on the superstructure. She was going to be painted dark blue, and the superstructure was silver. He had thought of a hundred names for her, and had just settled on Vol de Nuit, after a book by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which Quinn had loved since his youth. It meant night flight, which suited the sleek look of the boat, and the purposes he intended her for. Maggie could easily imagine him sailing through the night from one exotic place to another, on his solitary adventures, much like a pilot in a night sky, beneath the stars, feeling at one with his maker. Even the color of the boat reminded her of a night sky, and the silver of the stars within it. Her name had been a long time coming. And when they left that afternoon, all of the Hakkers' most pressing questions had been answered.
They picked up their things at the hotel in the late afternoon, and got to the airport just in time to catch a plane to Paris. They had talked about spending a day in Paris but decided against it. Maggie was content with having seen the boat, which was what they had come for. They spent an hour at Charles De Gaulle, and then boarded a night flight to San Francisco. And because of the time difference, they were due to arrive in San Francisco at midnight. It had been a short trip, but a meaningful one for both of them. As they settled back in their seats, she looked at him with a long, slow smile of gratitude and kissed him.
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