Before he could speak his thoughts – that Danny had run off again – she mercifully went on, sparing him saying something brainless.
“I sent him away. I finally realized it was the best thing for both of us.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that, but I guess it does make things less complicated for us,” he said.
“Nick, when I said ‘us,’ I meant me and Danny. You weren’t a factor anymore.”
Nick shut his eyes in remorse and ran a hand through his hair, astounded by his continuing stupidity. As he fell back onto the couch, he said, “Shit, Maddy. What’s the right thing to say here? I don’t know anymore.”
“You’ve said all the right things, Nick. But I’m having a hard time trusting your words. You shut me out. How do I know you won’t do it again?”
Nick stared at her in disbelief. All he could think to say was, “I love you, Maddy,” as if those words would fill up this enormous hole he’d dug for himself.
“You stopped talking to me. You wouldn’t take my calls. You blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. That’s not my definition of love.”
The silence that followed was hard to break, but Nick finally asked the question that had been foremost in his thoughts.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“But, do you still want me?”
The beginning of a wry smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and Nick watched the dimple in her left cheek deepen. It was the signal he wanted, but he wasn’t prepared for her response.
“What I want and what I need are two very different things, Nick.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
Maddy cocked her head to one side. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Now, why don’t I walk you to the Nelsen’s,” she stated, ending the discussion. “Mary will be thrilled to see you.”
The group staying with Corina and Norm enveloped him, but his attention was on Maddy. Nick sadly watched as she slipped out the front door, and left him there with all the pieces of the puzzle except the one that would make him whole.
He drove home late that night. When Nick entered his cold, dark house, and sat in the kitchen alone, a long-forgotten conversation came back to him. Now, thinking about it, he could almost taste the salt in the air and feel the warmth of that Fourth of July day on the water. And Nick could see the expectancy on Maddy’s face when she said, “Name three women you trust,” and the hurt on it that she hadn’t been one of them.
Nick picked up the phone to call her, and remembered the phones were out on the beach. Ripping the top sheet from a notepad, Nick wrote the words: I trust you with my life, and Becky’s. Please come home.
He sealed it in an envelope, addressed it, and – at one o’clock in the morning – drove to the post office and dropped it in the mail slot.
Journal Entry
December 5
I’m going to Nick.
The note he sent came two days ago. It was short, and very sweet. I guess I’d been subconsciously waiting for a sign and, as far as I’m concerned, that was it. I would have gone to him that night, but didn’t feel right leaving Mary. But now the power’s finally been restored. Everyone has heat, and hot water. And the phone company is up there working as I write this.
I’ve told the people that matter. Everyone’s promised to look after Mary. She still refuses to leave the beach, and I suppose I understand that. Her life has been on the beach for too many years to count. The people down here need her. Everyone contributes something to Salmon Beach. I’m beginning to believe Mary is their emotional connection. When she’s no longer on this earth I’ve no doubt someone else will come along to fill her shoes. It’s the way the beach seems to function.
I haven’t been able to contact Jaed. Will do that from Nick’s place.
No.
That’s wrong.
It’ll be our place, and doesn’t that sound wonderful?
I left Mary for last. It was hard saying goodbye. I felt a little like a child leaving home. Mary’s nurtured me in ways Mom never did. Her eyes lit up when I told her my plans. She was more than ready for me to fly away. And she seemed proud: of both Nick and me.
I thanked her, not only for helping me through one of the roughest periods of my life, but for Nick, too. I think Mary is the reason Nick was finally able to break through the wall of mistrust he’d built around himself. Mary showed him he could trust a woman. Once he did that, he learned to trust me where it really counts. I knows ours is the most intimate relationship he’s ever had.
It’s one thing to talk about plans and ideas and dreams. Or to relate physical pain. Nick can do that with most women now. But what I really wish for him is the security of knowing he can tell me when he hurts inside. I don’t want him to ever keep that from me. I think that’s something we both have to work on for the rest of our lives. It’s daunting. But it’s what makes everything worthwhile.
I’m leaving the logistics of moving for later. Right now I’m just taking myself to Nick. After all, that’s what he’s giving me: just himself. It’s all I want.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Nick’s struggles with sleep ended the night he posted the note to Maddy. The few words seemed to flow directly from his soul to the paper – the pen, simply a medium. After he’d come home, Nick opened the plastic packaging and put the new sheets on the bed. Then he curled up on the couch and fell into a dreamless, peaceful place – unafraid.
Nick went about his business the next day. And the day after that. He waited for her, but not in that hopeless sense. No, Nick’s waiting was simply an anticipation of the inevitable. Maddy would come to him when she was ready. He had no doubts; no fears on that score. Absolute trust held him buoyant, leaving him free – not to just get through each day, but to live it fully.
Friday night, as he sat at the kitchen table surrounded by equipment estimates, Nick jotted down figures on a notepad. He was getting closer to the numbers he needed to make it all work. The house was quiet. The soft scratching of his pencil made a reassuring sound.
He stopped for a moment. As his thoughts wandered, Nick absently scanned the papers spread out before him. Picking up the brochure from Jim Nettles’ baseball school, Nick realized he’d need one too. He let the folded sheet flutter back to the tabletop and on his ‘To Do’ list wrote: Have Maddy design/take photos for brochure. He’d already come up with a name for the business – ‘M.V.P.’
Nick pushed the chair back and stretched. The carafe on the coffeemaker held one more cup, and he got up to pour it. As he sipped, Nick wandered into the living room to check on the fire. He’d lit one every night since coming home. It was a simple pleasure he’d decided it was okay to give himself.
It had burned down to the smallest of flames. Nick added two alderwood logs and fanned it with a magazine, bringing it back to roaring life. As the light reflected off the oak floor in front of the hearth, he smiled.
And when the front door opened, he wasn’t surprised. He’d left it unlocked for her, so great was his faith.
Maddy stepped inside holding Chloe. A draft, and the slight settling on the left side of the house, caused the heavy door to slowly shut behind her. He watched as she bent to place the cat on the entry rug. Chloe stood still for only a second before confidently padding across the living room to sit in front of the fire.
Maddy followed to stand before Nick. Her hands went to the buttons on the jacket she wore, but he stopped her. As he undid them himself, Nick’s mouth found hers. His hands slid inside the heavy fabric and around her waist, pulling her close.
Against his neck, she whispered, “Hi, honey…I’m home.”
He let her do what she wanted. Let Maddy choreograph their first time together in their home. She seemed to have definite ideas, which she wordlessly played out – there – in front of the fireplace. But she came sooner than she wanted, crying out, “Oh no…not yet.” And then Maddy begged him to do the same.
>
“Not now,” Nick said. “Not here.”
He had his own definite ideas.
As he pulled aside the covers and gently laid her on the bed, Maddy’s nostrils filled with his scent. It mingled with the smell of new linens – never slept on – the sizing crackling under their weight. She tried to tell him how much she loved him, but it was impossible. She watched his face as he slowly entered her.
He tried to watch her as well, but the serenity that flooded through him forced his eyes to close with deep pleasure. The feel of her was so right that he groaned, “Baby, I’m home, too…”
Later that night they’d awakened needing to make love again – needing the reassurance that they’d found each other once more. Afterward, as Maddy lay on top of Nick, she could feel his pulse still beating inside her. Her heartbeat slowed to match his.
He tried to move her, only because he thought it was what she wanted, but she stopped him. He was thankful. Pulling away from her now was the last thing he wanted, and he told her so. Nick felt her smile against his chest.
Maddy was close to sleep when she remembered what she’d meant to tell Nick earlier, before she’d been overcome with the reality of him. It seemed important to her. Profound, even.
“Nick? I need to tell you something.”
“I’m listening,” he said.
“It’s about a big lesson I’ve learned the past few months.” She lifted her head.
He opened his eyes. “What, Maddy?”
“I’ve learned I can live my life without you, Nick. But it’s not the life I’d choose.”
EPILOGUE
Garish silver and gold garlands still hung on the streetlamps. A plastic nativity scene graced the entrance to the Phoenix suburb called Saguaro Hills. True, it had only been a few days ago that Nick and Maddy celebrated their first Christmas together, but somehow she expected the holiday evidence to have been taken down. The airport gift shop already displayed Valentine cards.
Maddy slowly drove past her parent’s home. The garage door stood open, only her father’s car inside, his golf bag leaning against the back bumper of the Buick. She parked the rental car a block from the house and got out. It was warm enough for a t-shirt, but she wore her Northwest clothing. She was flying back this evening.
As she walked along the sidewalk, Maddy carried a large manila envelope in one hand. The neighborhood was quiet. A retirement community filled with golfers usually was. Most of the men were out on the course already. Their wives – if they hadn’t already taken up the game in self-defense and joined them – were out shopping or brunching. Or playing bridge, like her mother.
Maddy slowed her steps as she reached the ranch-style house that would never be her home. The desert landscaping was sterile and pristine. Nothing like the real Sonoran desert just a few miles away.
Taking a deep breath, Maddy followed the cement path to the front door. Nick had wanted to come with her, but this was something she needed to do alone. She wanted to finally close the circle.
Her arm felt heavy as she brought it up to knock. There was no answer. The doorbell chimed through the house, and she finally heard footsteps.
Her father opened the door. The pleasure on his face at seeing her, and his words of, “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” did nothing to take away the anger and sorrow she felt.
Handing him the envelope, Maddy took a step back.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Open it,” she said, and waited for him to pull out the copy of the Salmon Beach book. He read the cover, saw her name, but didn’t know what to make of it.
“Open it, Dad. Look at the first page.”
“Hey, this is nice. Is this you with the new man in your life?” He looked down at her, smiling.
“No. That’s the son you threw away. And the daughter whose love you lost because of it.” She paused. “It’s a picture of the truth, something you’ve always been afraid to tell.”
Her father looked mystified, and she went on.
“Danny finally found me, Dad. And I finally know why he left home.”
Her voice broke, but the tears that filled her eyes were of outrage.
“I know everything.”
His face grew hard. “I don’t know what that little punk told you, but it’s a bunch of lies.”
“He told me the truth,” she said. “You cheated on Mom, and Danny found out about it. And instead of doing the right thing – instead of taking the blame and trying to keep our family together – you threw him out.”
Maddy wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, and said, “You threatened your own son, and then for the next nineteen years you pretended he never existed.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.”
Maddy scrutinized her father’s face. “Tell me the truth, Dad. Or we have nothing left to talk about.”
He looked past her face, somewhere over her left shoulder, and said, “Danny’s a liar. That is the truth.”
Maddy was silent for a moment, then quietly said, “You’ll want to put that somewhere you can see it every day.” She nodded toward the book. “Because until you admit what you did, it’s all you’ll ever see of me again.”
She turned and began walking down the street, leaving behind the image of her father’s shocked face. It was time to get back to the airport. Time to go home to the life she’d created. The one she finally knew she deserved.
Final Journal Entry
April 6, 2001
I’ve been putting off writing for a while now. Too hard. But today is Nick’s birthday. And today is the day we went down to Salmon Beach together to scatter Mary’s ashes. So it seems fitting that I write, one last time.
Mary died in her sleep on March 21st. The first day of spring.
On the night of March 20th I had the strangest dream. It didn’t scare me. On the contrary, it left me with such a peaceful feeling that I woke Nick to tell him about it. It was a dream that didn’t fade with time. I still remember everything about it.
I’m standing on Jaed’s deck. It’s early morning. Foggy. Visibility is nonexistent. Even in my dream, I know I’ve had this dream before.
I’m holding something in my hand. It feels heavy and full. The weight is pleasant and familiar. “I’ve found it,” I say.
Then a female voice says my name. It comes from just below where I’m standing.
“Madeleine,” it says. “Please come closer.”
So I kneel down, and there she is again – my beautiful mermaid. When she smiles at me the fog rolls away like a wave uncovering a sparkling, sandy beach. She speaks again, and the water turns a vivid aquamarine.
“Madeleine, do you like what you see?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I like it very much.”
“I’m glad, Madeleine. Your sea change has made me happy.” On the word ‘happy,’ a soft breeze picks up her flowing hair and it floats and hovers around her head.
I want to thank her, but she holds up a graceful hand, and I can’t seem to speak anymore.
“I’m going now, Madeleine. It’s time for my sea change.”
I reach out to touch her face, but she’s no longer there. And I hear her voice one last time.
“I’ll be with you as long as you need me…”
And she was, and is.
The last time I saw Mary was at the opening for my show, and I will never forget my beautiful mermaid.
Everyone who matters to me was there that night, making it one of the best moments in my life. Seeing my photographs hanging in the gallery made them seem legitimate; art at last. And when Nick shushed everyone, stood in front of me, and then asked me to marry him in front of God and everybody, my “yes” was barely audible for the roar of approval. I haven’t taken the ring off since that night.
I could see the festivities had taken a lot out of Mary. I asked if she needed to rest and she let me take her out to Rita’s van. I got her comfortable on the small bed in the back and sat with her. “Mad
eleine, go back inside,” she said. “Go now.”
I told her I’d come back out to check on her, and closed the van door. As I stepped onto the pavement I felt a presence. I looked down the sidewalk. There, maybe three hundred feet away, a man stood watching. He was tall, with curling hair that reached his shoulders, a backpack dangling from his shoulder.
I slowly raised my hand, knowing it was Danny. He raised his hand in return. Suddenly, Nick’s arm was around my waist, and his voice in my ear.
“Come inside, Maddy. Everyone wants to toast you.” He pulled me into the gallery.
I took one last look down the street, but Danny was gone.
Rita Anders found Mary the next morning, and called us. Nick answered the phone while I was making breakfast. I remember how intimate, and how safe, it felt when he put his arm around me, still talking with Rita. I already knew what she was telling him.
I cried a little for the physical loss of her. So did Nick. But it didn’t hurt the way I thought it would. Her wisdom and love lives on. Nick and I are proof of that.
They put Mary’s ashes in one of the covered urns she’d made, the one with the white daffodil pressed into its side. We were both quiet as Nick drove down to Tacoma. We’ve been to the beach many times since December, but going down the steps this morning felt like the end of an era, and the start of a new life.
All the residents gathered on the path and on the decks and rooftops that surrounded the small beach where the mermaid sits on her rock. Jaed was there, too. She and Alex flew back for the ceremony. She seems to have found her soul mate. Jaed had given up her purple hair for aquamarine blue, in honor of Mary, and Alex didn’t seem at all perplexed by this.
The tide was just going out, and Nick and I walked across the wet pebbles until we reached the mermaid’s perch. The water was clear and cold. The morning, foggy. As small waves lapped at our feet, Nick removed the urn’s lid. He took my hand and placed it on his, and together we set Mary’s soul free.
A Sea Change Page 39