As they passed storefronts and yards with bushes starting to bud, he felt a wave of happiness, like he was waking up. The air smelled fresh, and somewhere above them, a bird sang a spring song: too-WEE, too-WEE.
William almost felt like he could sing, too.
Bisky had come to get him, bring him to church. She could have done the same to Officer Evan Stone, but she hadn’t. She’d chosen him.
As they reached the church steps, he found himself smiling. Up ahead, a couple of teen girls giggled over something on a phone.
The sound of it crashed over him like a giant wave, bringing back memories and washing away his good mood.
Here he was feeling happy, when Jenna could never be happy again. What was wrong with him? He didn’t deserve to have a nice, happy springtime Sunday.
Bisky had gotten a couple of steps ahead of him, and now she turned. She stopped, studied his face, and walked back. “What happened just then?”
She was too perceptive. “Those girls,” he admitted, nodding sideways to the giggling pair. “Sounded just like my Jenna.”
She put an arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “That must be so hard.” She hesitated, then added, “I honestly can’t imagine what you’re going through. I don’t know of anything to say to comfort you.”
At least she wasn’t telling him to get over it or remember the good times. “It’s hard, but I don’t want to bring you down.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she said simply. “Come on. We’ll sit in the back. Maybe the service will help.”
So he followed her inside and they sat in the back corner, a little removed from the small crowd greeting each other, talking quietly. In the background, the organ played, something beautiful.
And he was broken. Broken inside. If only he hadn’t left Jenna alone that day.
He looked through the church bulletin, trying to focus on what it said, sucking in breaths to soften the tightness in his throat. Bisky was watching him, and he really didn’t want to talk about Jenna and break down here, in public.
So he changed the subject. “Doesn’t Sunny come with you to church?”
“Sometimes,” she said. “This morning, she’s taking care of the dog.”
Right, the dog. “Are you keeping it?”
“I guess.” She shook her head. “It’s a pitiful creature. And it makes me mad that someone would hurt a dog like that.”
“Yeah, and that people blame it on the dock kids.”
She nodded. “There are still so many stereotypes. That’s why I want to do the teen program. Why I want you to help, too. You made a decision yet?”
He blew out a breath.
“You get them,” she continued. “A lot of people don’t, but you do. You can give them hope.”
Could he? What Bisky was saying was similar to what the pastor had said, back home. That he could be a good example to kids who hadn’t had any advantages. That he had something special to offer because of the background he came from.
The pastor had even said God would use his rough childhood for a good end. He’d stopped short of saying God would use Jenna’s death for a good end—probably sensing that William would deck him—but his words about William’s background had made some amount of sense.
“I mean,” she said, “I’m not going to push you into something you really don’t want to do. If you can’t, I’ll find someone else to help out.”
“Like Evan Stone, the cop?” he blurted out.
She gave him a strange look. “I hadn’t thought of him,” she said, “but he does seem like a good guy. He’s new in town and not very connected yet. Maybe he would like to help.” She looked at him sideways. “But I’d rather have you.”
She’d rather have him. He straightened in the church pew. “All right,” he said, “I’ll do it.”
* * *
AFTER SERVICES, BISKY led William to the church luncheon. He seemed to be doing better, at least a little bit, but she was worried about him.
How did you get over the death of your child? How did you manage to go on with life at all, let alone seize some kind of happiness? If anything ever happened to Sunny...
She couldn’t even let that thought stay in her head for two seconds. It was weak of her, maybe, and as William’s friend she ought to try, but she couldn’t. She shook the idea off and looked around the church basement, where the luncheons were held in cold weather. “Do you remember coming to this with my family, years ago?” she asked William. If she could distract him, even in a small way, maybe it would help a little.
He looked around. “I do,” he said. “The smell brings it all back. I’m pretty sure I ate way more than my share, but people were nice.”
“As they should be. It’s church.”
He was right: the smell was mouthwatering. Someone was frying crab cakes, and the aroma of fresh-baked corn bread filled the air. Bisky’s stomach growled. “I always skip breakfast when the church is having a lunch,” she said. She opened a bag she’d been carrying and pulled out a plastic bin. “I made chocolate chip cookies,” she said. “I love ’em, but I don’t dare bake them when it’s just me and Sunny to eat them. I run the risk of eating them all myself.”
“You don’t worry about your weight, do you?” His eyes skimmed over her. “You look good.”
That gave her a funny little tingle in between her tummy and her heart. Which was ridiculous; this was William. What did it matter if he liked how she looked? “Every woman worries about weight a little, especially as she gets older,” she said. “Come on, I see some people we can sit with. Pastor Steve will bless the food, and then they’ll have us go up table by table, so everyone doesn’t rush the kitchen.”
Talking helped her get rid of that odd sensation of wanting William to like how she looked. It also felt like a good idea to have him sit with her amidst a whole gang of people, rather than going off by themselves. “Everyone,” she said when they reached the table she’d targeted, “this is William Gross. He’s back in town after a lot of years away.” She nodded toward the closest family. “William, that’s Paul, but you two already met, right? And that’s his wife, Amber, and their son, Davey.”
“I’m five,” Davey informed William.
“Are you really?” William smiled at the little boy. “You’re pretty big.”
“And that’s Ria and Drew and their daughters, Kaitlyn and Sophia. Sunny’s not here today,” she informed Kait, because the two of them were good friends.
“Did you let her keep the dog?” the teenager asked.
“Against my better judgment,” Bisky said, shaking her head, and the others laughed.
“And this is Trey and Erica and their baby, Hunter,” she said. “Who everyone always fights over holding, because he’s so adorable.”
William’s face lit up. “I can see why,” he said. “Do you think he’d come to me?” He knelt down beside Erica, making himself smaller.
“You’re welcome to try,” Erica said. “He’s as heavy as if he were made of bricks.” She scooted Hunter toward William, who held out his hands.
Hunter studied him, his face impassive. William reached out gently and took him in his hands, then when Hunter remained calm, stood and swooped him into the crook of his arm. He bounced the baby and spoke quietly to him, and Hunter began to smile.
The sight of such a big man with a baby did something to Bisky’s heart.
She’d used to wish for another child, a brother or sister for Sunny, but as the years had gone by, it had come to seem unlikely. She’d talked herself into being glad. As a woman alone, raising Sunny well, providing for her needs, saving up for college...there just weren’t resources or space for another child.
She was thirty-seven now, late in the game for babies. She hadn’t felt that maternal hunger for a long time. But watching William with Hunter was bringing it ba
ck, hard and strong.
She didn’t want to let that happen, so she deliberately turned away and talked to Amber until William gave the baby back to Erica and the pastor prayed over the food. Bisky gestured William ahead of her, so he walked with Paul and Trey to fill his plate. She even hoped to put someone else in between her and William when they returned to the table, but everyone quickly grabbed their earlier seats, leaving her right next to him.
And he was hard to ignore, especially when he leaned close to tell her how good everything was. She caught the scent of his aftershave and felt the warmth that seemed to radiate from his body, and got almost dizzy.
What was wrong with her? She and William were friends, and that was all. What William needed most was a friend.
She was glad to see how well he got along with everyone. He’d matured since she’d known him as an awkward, angry boy. He was a man now, friendly and strong, someone others enjoyed talking with. It was a different side of William, and she liked it. Wouldn’t mind seeing more of it, she thought, and then scolded herself for her foolishness.
“You look happy,” Amber said, waggling her eyebrows at Bisky and giving a meaningful glance toward William. “Any particular reason?”
“I am happy,” she said, ignoring Amber’s implication. “William’s going to work with me on the new program for teens.” She looked over and saw that William was listening. “See, it’s public now, you have to.”
“I’m committed,” he said, smiling. And she was blown away. When had he gotten so handsome? When had she started noticing he was so handsome?
And she was going to be working with him. Yikes.
The windows were open, with blue sky and sunshine visible outside. Around them, people were going back for seconds or dessert, walking around talking to people at other tables, laughing and enjoying the day. Kayla came over to their table.
“Miss Kayla!” Davey ran to wrap his arms around her legs, nearly tripping her.
“Davey’s preschool teacher,” Amber explained to William with a wry grin. “I count for nothing when she’s around.”
“Davey’s pretty fond of you,” Paul said, putting an arm around her. “You’re his mom.”
Bisky smiled at the obvious tenderness between them. There had been a time when Paul had asked Kayla out, before realizing that he and Amber were meant for each other. Amber had been jealous. But now, there was no awkwardness between them.
Davey’s mother had died several years ago, but Paul was right: Amber was clearly Davey’s mom now, and the little family were friends with Kayla and her mom. Which was good. Pleasant Shores was too small of a community for grudges to last long.
“Let’s go get dessert,” Paul said. Amber and Bisky declined, but Paul and William and Trey headed up to where pieces of pie and cake were being distributed.
“He’s good-looking,” Kayla said, smiling, as soon as the men were out of sight. “Adds to the great scenery in this town.”
Bisky felt a primal sense of possessiveness. William was more than scenery, and Kayla couldn’t have him.
And then she realized how ridiculous that was.
“He is good-looking.” Bisky made herself smile at Kayla and Amber.
“And?” Amber asked. “How do you feel about him?”
“He’s a friend, and that’s all,” Bisky said firmly.
Deliberately, she looked around, watching Davey run over to play with a group of kids who were climbing onto the stage and jumping down. People were starting to leave now, putting on coats and gathering dishes.
Bisky remembered when Sunny had been one of the children jumping around and playing. But that time was over for her. Sunny would soon be on her own, moving on.
“It goes fast,” Amber said, reading her mind. Amber’s daughter, Hannah, was away at college. Where Sunny would be soon, too.
From the next table, Primrose Miller beckoned to Bisky. Primrose was the church organist, and she was busy feeding one of Chelsea Carbon’s twins while Chelsea fed the other. Primrose could strain Bisky’s nerves because of how much she loved to gossip, but she was a sweet person underneath. Bisky went over to stand next to the woman.
“Who’s your young man?” Primrose asked, still spooning food into the baby’s mouth. She nodded in William’s direction. “The tall one. He looks familiar.”
“He’s not my young man.” Bisky had to smile at the terminology, but then she noticed that other people were listening. No doubt thinking she and William were together, and that, she had to dispel. “He’s William Gross. He grew up here, but he’s been away for a while. Now he’s here for the Victory Cottage program.” Not for Bisky. Definitely not for Bisky.
She’d never been with anyone seriously and long-term. And she didn’t hold it against herself; she was strong, and that was good, but men didn’t like it. She was too much for most men.
Suddenly, she wanted to leave. “I have to go check on Sunny,” she said to the ladies, and then repeated the same excuse to William. Then she hurried up and left by herself. Maybe that would cut down on any gossipy idea that she had feelings for William, or him for her. He wasn’t her “young man,” as Primrose had said, and he never would be.
Now, she just had to make sure her own heart got the memo.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS WILLIAM CAME to the edge of Pleasant Shores’ downtown, or what passed for it, on Monday morning, the school bus emerged from the dock area, and memories flooded him. Getting on that bus and leaving the docks, going to school, had been the best part of his day when he was young. At school, he’d been able to think and read and learn in peace. He’d met teachers who cared about books and ideas.
That was where he’d learned there was another life besides the dirty and dangerous one in his troubled family.
There, and at Bisky’s house. His steps quickened, taking him past the new diner that bridged the gap between the town and the docks. The smell of bacon wafted out the door as it opened and a couple of women in business clothes came out, talking and laughing.
He’d try the diner soon, he decided. He was getting tired of his own bad cooking. And he needed to support local businesses.
Today, he was going to work with Bisky to plan the program she wanted to develop for teens, following guidelines from the program up the shore but also tailoring it to the Pleasant Shores kids. Mary had okayed it as his volunteer gig while he lived in Victory Cottage, and the more he’d thought about it, the more he was looking forward to helping kids who might be in the situation he’d been in, feeling trapped in a life that didn’t suit them. Maybe he could do some good, make something out of his time here, and help others as well as healing himself.
The only problem was the strange feelings he’d been having about Bisky. Yesterday, attending services and meeting up with her friends at the luncheon after, he’d gotten a little too intent on watching her. She was nice to watch, laughing and talking, obviously at home, wearing that red sweater that fitted in a way that had a lot of men giving her a second look.
It wasn’t just how she looked, either. She’d automatically understood when he’d had that moment of remembering Jenna, there on the steps of the church. She’d known he needed to be away from people. She hadn’t comforted him with false platitudes like so many well-meaning people tended to do.
Bisky was genuinely kind and empathetic. A good woman.
And he needed to remember that, which would also remind him that he couldn’t get too lost in thoughts of how it would be to hold her close or come home to her at night. He was no good for anyone in a relationship, and he had to make sure he avoided any move in that direction.
Now, he saw her on the docks, doing something with her crab buckets. She wore jeans and a hoodie, her hair in a long braid down her back. She looked like a kid.
There were a few other watermen hanging around their own docks, scraping hulls or mending tr
aps, probably because, like Bisky, they were taking a break between oyster and crab season. A couple of men stood smoking and talking; they looked in his direction and nodded as if they knew him. Maybe they did. He’d spent so much time with his head down when he was younger, reading a book or doing somebody’s odd jobs or trying to avoid his father’s wrath, he hadn’t gotten close with most of the families who lived near the docks and worked the water.
Somehow, he’d gotten to know Bisky and her family, and it had been the making of him.
She looked over her shoulder and saw him watching her, and her forehead wrinkled. Great, he seemed like a stalker. “Let’s get to work, figure this thing out,” she said. “Once crab season starts, I won’t have much time to sit down and talk.”
“Right.” He came over and sat down a respectable distance away from her. He picked up a crab pot, found a spot where the wire had come untwisted and started putting it back together. Rather than making small talk, he dove abruptly into the work they’d planned to do. “So, the teen program. We could take them crabbing once the season starts.”
She tilted her head and frowned at him. “That’s what they have to do whenever there’s a day off from school anyway, most of them.”
“Oh, right.” His own family hadn’t had a successful fishing business, but his dad had done a little crabbing, trying to make some money to supplement their welfare and disability payments. Not that Dad had been disabled, but back then, it had been easier to scam the government.
When William had grown up and left and thought back on it, he’d realized that his father was probably involved in some illegal activities, too. How else had he been able to afford to buy a boat and keep top-shelf liquor in the house?
“I’m thinking maybe we should teach them the history of this place,” she said. “Give them a sense of pride in where they came from. You could do it. You’re a teacher.”
The idea interested him, but he had doubts. “Like more school? I doubt they’d want to listen to a lecture from some guy they don’t know, telling them about the place they’ve lived all their lives. I mean, admittedly, there’s some great history around here, but...”
Home to the Harbor--A Novel Page 7