“Yes,” Kerry said, “but I thought it would still be appropriate to sing it in church. There’s an almost spiritual quality to it.”
“I thoroughly agree,” said Aunt June. “And what better way to introduce the song to lots of people. If word of it gets out,” she added with a look that promised word would definitely get out, “we’re liable to draw from some of the other congregations in town.”
“What a great idea,” Aunt Patience said.
Aunt June glanced at Kerry. “I heard Judd Roarke is in town again this weekend. Is he here to pick up the signed contract from you?”
“I hardly think he’d make a trip up here just for that,” Kerry said. She hadn’t signed the contract yet. She would, of course.
“Dan Murphy said he saw you talking to Judd on the landing yesterday afternoon,” Dodie Gibson said. She smiled. “High-level negotiations, Kerry? Holding out for more money?”
“No.” Kerry realized with a jolt that she hadn’t even looked at the money offered in the contract. She had no idea how much Lighthouse Records was prepared to pay her. “I took Rachel out on the boat, and Judd came down to meet us.” Did he ever. That scene had ended whatever hopes she’d secretly nurtured of rebuilding a relationship. He seemed determined to sever all connections with her.
Emma Webster cleared her throat. “I think we should celebrate Kerry’s success. With Judd Roarke in town, we could make both of them the guests of honor. Maybe we could throw something together tonight, or early tomorrow, after church services. We have enough people here right now to organize it.”
Kerry panicked. “Oh, that’s not necessary. Tonight wouldn’t work, anyway, because we have the Payson-Dibble wedding, and the Honeymooners are playing for the reception afterward, which could last until late. And I’m sure Judd will be leaving early tomorrow.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Dodie said. “I wouldn’t mind being the one to do it, either.”
Kerry scrambled for another excuse. “It’s really hot this weekend. Maybe later, when it cools off, we could—”
“Nonsense,” Emma said. “It’s no hotter than usual for this time of year. We’ll just have plenty of iced tea and lemonade. We could set up tables on Soldier’s Green, make it a giant potluck. I think the town wants this, Kerry. We’re all very proud of you. Let us have a little fun.”
Kerry swallowed. There seemed no way out of it. Judd probably wouldn’t come, so what harm was there in letting the town enjoy this moment of triumph? People had been waiting a long time to see her make good. “All right,” she said. “I guess after church tomorrow is okay.”
* * *
KERRY HAD ASKED for her song to be the final part of the church program the next morning, and as the moment came, her excitement grew.
At last Pastor Bue gave her a nod. The song was mentioned in the morning’s printed program, so Kerry had decided not to introduce it. She turned to her choir, blew her pitch pipe and raised her hands. The choir would sing without accompaniment. She prayed they’d stay in tune, although that wasn’t usually their strong point, but she didn’t want the sound of the organ to interfere with the lyrics. She’d never seen the choir members look as expectant as they did now.
From the moment the first notes of the song filled the historic church, Kerry felt a tingling up her spine. Yes, this was right. Patience shot up an octave, as usual, but for some reason, with this song, it sounded good. For once Louis Bertrand watched Kerry’s direction, instead of the ladies he was trying to flirt with, and Dodie Gibson’s lovely contralto came through with a richness Kerry had never heard before. Tears pushed at her eyes, and her throat tightened. This song didn’t belong on the pop circuit.
It belonged to Eternity.
By the time the song ended, tears were streaming down her cheeks and dampening the faces of the choir. A long silence followed the end of the song. She smiled mistily at the choir, then turned to the congregation, which broke into applause.
Then everyone was up and rushing toward her, forgetting the usual orderly recession that traditionally ended the service.
Pastor Bue’s voice rose above the hubbub. “Time to party!”
Kerry was whisked out the door and across the street to the green on a tide of well-wishers.
Ted Webster and his wife, Ruthie, appeared beside her.
“That song was beautiful,” Ted said.
“Thank you,” Kerry managed around the lump that was still lodged in her throat.
“We’re going to miss you, Kerry,” Ruthie said.
Kerry couldn’t reply. The tightness wouldn’t leave her throat. The song had been so right. Leaving Eternity seemed so wrong.
Soldier’s Green was a kaleidoscope of picnic hampers, lawn chairs and people in Sunday dress. It was hot, but no one paid attention except to make sure the potato salad stayed chilled and the ice held out.
Kerry was kept busy talking to everyone. Grubby Daniels shoved a full plate of food at her with an admonition to eat it, but she had no time between accepting congratulations and explaining who the Saucy Sisters were and where she’d go on tour. Just as well she didn’t try to eat. She’d didn’t feel hungry.
At last, inevitably, someone called for Kerry to make a speech. She tried to duck the issue, but hands divested her of her barely touched plate, shoved her forward and hoisted her on top of a cleared space on a picnic table.
She stood there looking around at the friends and neighbors she’d known all her life, loved all her life. This was her chance to tell them goodbye, to thank them for all the support they’d given her over the years, to promise them she wouldn’t forget Eternity and all of them.
She couldn’t say the words. Images kept intruding—feeding the gulls, sailing away from the town landing, leading the church choir, painting the Leprechaun II with her brothers, coaxing a new piano student, singing for a wedding reception, joking with the Honeymooners.
I just want you to be happy, her father had said. Well, she was.
Then she thought of riding on a cramped tour bus, of days without a moment to herself, of singing a butchered version of the song, of being landlocked somewhere in middle America, far from the ocean, far from gulls, far from Eternity. But if she did what she wanted to do, would the people of Eternity still love her?
And what about Judd? He’d acted like a heel, but he didn’t deserve to have his efforts in her behalf thrown back in his face. She opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again. Cleared her throat.
Everyone waited, faces turned up toward her, smiles on their faces.
“I’m…I’m not going.”
People frowned in confusion.
“What do you mean, not going?” Aunt June hollered from the middle of the crowd. “Of course you are.”
Kerry shook her head. “I’m sorry, Aunt June,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry, everyone. But that song belongs to Eternity, and so do I.”
A chorus of protests and questions rose to engulf her. She shook her head and climbed down from the table.
People reached for her, called her name, but she dodged them and pushed toward the edge of the crowd with mumbled excuses. Finally she gained the street and began to run.
They wouldn’t follow her. People in Eternity had been raised with the good manners to leave someone alone if she wanted to be alone. She turned right down School Street and slowed to a fast walk. In the distance she could see the lighthouse, standing like a beacon. She set out for it.
17
JUDD WAS LOADING Rachel’s stuffed animals back in the car when she and her grandparents came back from the celebration for Kerry. He hadn’t thought Kerry would want to see him there, so he’d politely refused Dodie Gibson’s invitation.
Rachel burst from the car as soon as it stopped. “Daddy! Kerry says she’s not going to New York!”
He turned, a pink bear in his arms. “What?”
“She was supposed to make this goodbye speech—” Rachel waved her arms in her excitement “—and, instead, she said she wasn’
t going!”
Judd glanced for confirmation at Stella and Allen, who had climbed out of the car.
“That’s right, Judd,” Allen said. “Strangest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine what got into her.”
“She said something about the song belonging to Eternity, and so did she,” Stella added. “Then she walked away, actually ran away.”
“Where?”
He shoved the bear into the back seat and fumbled in his pants pocket for his keys.
“Toward the beach,” Rachel said, watching her father. “Are you going after her?”
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“Can I go?”
“No, punkin. This is between Kerry and me.”
“Don’t be mad at her, Daddy.”
He noticed she’d reverted from “Dad” to “Daddy,” ever since their long talk the night before. He liked the sound of it. “I’m not mad at her, Rachel,” he said. “I just don’t want her to be mad at herself.” He glanced across the top of the car toward Stella and Allen. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”
Stella was watching him with a speculative light in her eyes. “Take your time,” she said.
With a short nod he got behind the wheel and backed out of the drive.
His thoughts as he drove to the beach tumbled like small stones rolling in the surf. But one resolution kept bobbing to the surface—if Kerry was doing this either to punish him or avoid working with him, he had to get her back on track. He should never have made love to her. He could have encouraged her without going that far, couldn’t he? But no, his hormones had raged out of control, and now perhaps he’d tarnished her dream. He hit the steering wheel in frustration.
As he parked the car he saw her walking far down the beach near the lighthouse. How fitting. He was responsible for her being on the rocks. Could he repair the damage he’d done?
He started down the beach at a jog, getting sand in his loafers with every step. He ignored the gritty feeling and went faster. When he was close enough, he shouted her name.
She turned, saw him and started walking toward him. He was relieved. He’d wondered if he’d have to chase her down and force her to listen to him.
He expected belligerence, anger, all the emotions she’d deservedly thrown at him the other day.
Yet when she drew near she looked at him, her green eyes clear and free of anger, almost luminescent in their calmness. Her hair, blown by the breeze, was in tantalizing disarray. She was so beautiful she made his throat ache.
“I’m sorry, Judd,” she said.
He slowed and tried to catch his breath. His heart had been pumping adrenaline into his system ever since Rachel had told him of Kerry’s decision. And he sure hadn’t expected an apology from her. He tried to get his bearings, tried to ignore the bewitching sight of her standing barefoot in the sand, her shoes dangling from one hand.
“You could sue me for breach of contract, except fortunately I haven’t signed anything yet,” she continued, gazing at him with a serenity he found unnerving.
“You’re doing this because of me, aren’t you?”
She smiled. “You really do take responsibility for everything, don’t you?”
“If I hadn’t loused up your stay in New York…”
“You didn’t. At least not until last Saturday. I’ll never forget the incredible times we had together, Judd, even though we’ll never have those times again. You were the best part of New York. The rest doesn’t suit me very well.”
“You can’t know that.”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her full denim skirt. “Did you listen to the tape before the contracts department sent it to me?”
“No.” He hadn’t been able to, but he couldn’t admit that now, not when he needed to be impersonal. “I left the tape editing to Tom and Billy.”
“Well, that’s something.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If you’d okayed that tape, I’d wonder how you could ever make a success of Lighthouse Records.”
“It was bad?”
“Worse than bad.”
He frowned impatiently. “Kerry, if you’re disappointed with the tape, that can be fixed. If you’re disappointed with me, I’ll stay out of your way, but don’t give up your career because of a rocky start. Go to another recording company if you want. I’ll recommend you to several, although you probably don’t even need my recommendation.”
“I don’t want another company. I regret all the time you’ve wasted on me, Judd. My decision is horribly unprofessional, but then, that’s the point, isn’t it? I don’t want to be a professional.”
“Wasn’t the money enough? I could—”
“I didn’t even look at how much money Lighthouse offered me.”
He stared at her. “You’re not making sense.”
“It’s very simple, really. I don’t want to be a star.”
“But you’ve wanted that all your life!”
She shook her head slowly. “Other people wanted it for me. I’d been given The Muldoon Gift, and felt a duty to make use of it. And I will, but here in Eternity, doing what I love. I wouldn’t be happy out there under the bright lights, Judd. I’d dry up. Except I didn’t know that until now. So I have lots of apologies to make—to Aunt June and my mother, to all the people who’ve cheered me on all these years.” She paused and gazed out to sea. “But in the end, it’s my life I’ll be living, not theirs.”
Hope cascaded through him, warming the coldness that had seeped into every pore of his body since Saturday morning. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”
She met his gaze. “Absolutely. Thanks for the chance, Judd. And the good times. They were good, and I don’t want to ruin them with recriminations.” She held out her hand. “Let’s just part friends.”
He took her hand. “The hell with that,” he muttered, and pulled her into his arms.
She glanced up at him, startled.
“Do you promise me that you know what you’re doing, that you won’t look back ten years from now and wish you’d chosen differently?”
“I know what I’m doing,” she said, color staining her cheeks. “But I’m not at all sure about you.”
“How could you know anything about me?” he said, his voice husky. “I’ve hidden everything from you.”
She searched his gaze. Her lips parted slightly, and it took all his control not to kiss her senseless, but he had some things to say. And he might as well begin with the most important.
“I love you,” he said, putting all his pent-up emotions into the words. “Madly, passionately and forever.”
She let out a long, slow sigh. “Oh,” she whispered.
“But I couldn’t tell you that and jeopardize your career. I didn’t dare ask you to marry me, and love me forever, and be a mother to Rachel, even when those were the only words I wanted to say.”
Her green eyes grew dusky with desire. “And now?”
“Now I dare everything.” He couldn’t hold back a moment longer. Her lips beckoned to him, and he leaned down to taste her, groaning at the sweetness of her mouth. Her response told him what he needed to know.
But suddenly she pulled away, gasping. “We have a problem. You live in New York. As much as I love you, I don’t want to live in New York.”
“You love me?”
“Of course.”
“Then we have no problems.” He resumed kissing her.
At last she wrenched her lips away. “Judd, this is important.”
“I know. That’s why we’ll live in Eternity. Rachel loves it here. I’ll keep the apartment in New York, and maybe sometimes I’ll have to spend a few days there, but there’s no reason I can’t run the business from here.”
“Judd, I’ve been there. I know how involved…”
“I’ll be less involved. You jolted me out of that thinking the other day. Before that, I somehow thought I couldn’t cut back, so I decided to have Rachel stay with the people wh
o could give her more time. But that’s crazy. Of course I can cut back. Who am I working for, if not you and Rachel?” He chuckled. “Rachel told me Friday night she doesn’t even want to inherit the record company. She wants to grow up and make movies with Jason Priestly.”
“Oh, Judd.” She touched his face, and the gentle pressure made him close his eyes in ecstasy. “Did that hurt you—that she doesn’t want what you’ve been building up for her?”
He grasped her hand and pressed his lips against her palm. “Not when I realized that she’d freed me from building it up. I might even sell it.”
She grinned. “And play sax for the Honeymooners?”
“Who knows?” He laughed and spun her around. “I just know I love you, Kerry Muldoon, and I want to get married in that confounded chapel and live happily ever after.”
“Better be careful. The marriages performed there seem to have real staying power.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said, and settled his lips over hers once more.
* * *
WHEN KERRY’S SISTER Maureen learned that Bruce Springsteen would be the best man opposite her as matron of honor at Kerry and Judd’s wedding, Kerry realized it was the first time her sister had been at a loss for words.
Kerry and Judd soon discovered the chapel would never hold his star-studded guest list, coupled with her list, which included nearly everyone in Eternity and old friends from college. They decided to limit the service to immediate family members and the most intimate friends. The rest would be invited to a gigantic reception that Kerry figured would be a media magnet.
She’d have preferred less publicity. But since she’d deprived Eternity of her glory, a celebrity wedding was the least she could provide to boost the town’s spirits.
In the days leading up to the wedding, nearly everyone in Eternity had managed to get Kerry aside and tell her they thought she was doing the right thing. Everyone except Aunt June. Kerry had tried to talk with her, but each conversation ended with Aunt June sighing and shaking her head. She didn’t say so, but it was obvious she thought Kerry was making a terrible mistake.
Nevertheless, Kerry had invited her to the wedding, and she’d accepted.
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