Portion of the Sea

by Christine Lemmon

  “That is, if you decide to show.”

  “I love you,” I said, then turned and let a gust of wind push me in the direction of my home. I looked back once, and he was watching me, so I blew him a quick kiss. I didn’t turn again. My tear ducts had thawed, and I didn’t want any man seeing me cry.

  I wanted to be a woman, a strong woman.

  XXVIII

  LYDIA

  “THEN BE THAT STRONG woman, Ava,” I said under my breath as I tucked the journal into my bag and stood up. “This is your chance to exercise your right to make a choice for yourself. It’s what strong women do.”

  I walked slowly around the base of the lighthouse, keeping an eye out for an ancient Junonia shell and wondering at the same time if vows were ever exchanged on the ground where I was standing.

  I had to find out, I decided, as I left the area and headed toward Marlena’s. I had to know whether Ava showed up at dusk or dropped off a shell and left on a boat forever. I had to know all these things because maybe I still had choices of my own to make. I was flying out soon and had lots of things planned for myself, but reservations and plans can be cancelled. Just as a woman has the right to make her own choices, she also has the right to change her mind.

  “Let me guess,” Marlena said as she opened the door. “You’re here for the wedding, aren’t you?”

  “So there was one!” I exclaimed.

  “I didn’t say that. I just asked if you were here for it.”

  I walked past her into the great room and laughed. “Of course I am. I’d probably be maid-of-honor, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she said. “In all honesty, I do think you and she would have been close friends. I think she could have used a friend like you. She really didn’t have a lot of girls she could relate to.”

  “Well, I’m here, and I’m relating to her, all right. Mind if I get reading? I’m already nearly sixty years late for the wedding.”

  “Take your seat,” Marlena said, ushering me down the hall and into the yellow room where, outside the windows, the birds were performing music fit for a wedding. She sat down as well, and we chatted a minute.

  “I’m dying to know,” she said. “What’s happening with you and Josh?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “For now, absolutely nothing.”

  “You look uneasy about that.”

  “I am.”

  She stood up and patted me on the knee. “I’ll be in the kitchen making you a nice warm drink, one my own mother, grandmother, and even great-grandmother once enjoyed. It’s one of those family comfort recipes that I think you’ll like.” She left the room and I could hear her walking down the hall.

  I could hardly wait to hear Ava’s footsteps walking down the aisle, ready to join Jaden so their tracks would become one. I picked up the pages and began to read.

  Ava

  There should have been blue-winged teal, red-breasted mergansers and white pelicans there to give us their blessings, but there weren’t any. Probably the cold got in their way, but that’s okay, I told myself. “I’m not going to let something like that ruin my day.”

  “It’s a beautiful day,” my mother said to me, sensing my nerves. “Wouldn’t you know it? Of all days, today is turning out to be one of the most beautiful days I have ever seen.”

  “I know it is,” I said. “Now take your seat, Mama.” I looked at the lighthouse, tall and regal as any cathedral steeple might be. “It’s time everyone takes a seat. You too, Grandmalia.” I took hold of her hand and steadied her down, and then I looked around for both my father and Jaden, but neither were anywhere to be seen. I wondered whether my father would show at all, but I knew Jaden would. We all make our choices in life, and we all have to live with the lives we’ve created, I thought as I stood nervously watching to see whether my father would choose to say good-bye to me or not.

  He had made a big choice yesterday, one he had announced to me as I walked in the front door after returning from my chilly morning with Jaden.

  “Key West,” Stewart had said, his feet up on the table and his hair a wild mess as always after he’s run his fingers through it during a decision-making process. “We’re going to Key West to manufacture cigars.”

  “What did you say, Daddy?”

  “Financially, it makes best sense for us to move to Key West, coconut. I hear that wages paid to the cigar makers alone amount to three hundred thousand dollars in a single year. You know what that means?”

  I shook my head.

  “Sit down, and I’ll tell you,” he started. “It means I’d buy you everything you ever wanted. Hey, Abby,” he called out, turning toward the kitchen. “Abby, our little Ava has grown into a beautiful young lady. She’d look good in a few new dresses, fashionable ones, don’t you think?”

  My mother stormed out of the kitchen and slammed a teacup down on the table in front of me. “Here, Ava, this is for you.” Then she bent down and pointed her finger at my father. “I am not moving my daughter to a place where cigar manufacturing is the chief commercial enterprise.”

  I sipped the tea, wondering whether brandy had become a permanent ingredient in our family’s favorite comfort recipe. Warm milk, honey, butter … I took another sip … yep, I think I tasted hints of brandy like I had the night before. Heading into the third generation, the family comfort recipe had indeed evolved to now include brandy, I decided. It was history in the making. And the brandy, I think, replaced the cinnamon. I couldn’t detect any cinnamon. “How far is Key West from here?” I asked, not believing that any of my father’s talk would ever turn into action.

  “This discussion is between your father and me,” Abigail said, not looking at me. Instead she cast a smoldering look back at Stewart; so, I sipped more of the comfort drink and watched my mother and father communicate with their eyes. It annoyed me when they did that because they thought I didn’t know the eyeball language and that it was only for married couples, of which club I was not a member.

  When my mother walked away, my father pulled his feet off the table and scooted closer toward me and then whispered, “Key West isn’t too far from here. It’ll take a week by sailboat to get there.”

  “I heard that, Stewart Witherton,” Abigail said, returning with her own cup, some of it pouring over the rim as she walked. “Key West is out of the question.” She sipped, and I wondered whether her cup, with its amount of brandy, would have any lasting impact on our family recipe. She shook her hand to dry the spillage. “Did you forget we don’t speak Spanish?” She gulped and slurped from her cup and I could tell she was desperate for comfort. “I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” she said, setting her empty cup on the table. “Stop dreaming and take us home to Kentucky where they at least speak our own language.”

  “What about the winters there?” Stewart asked.

  “Never mind the winters. I’ll be fine.”

  Dahlia came out of the bedroom and sat down beside me. “I’ve got an idea,” she said. “What about Hollywood? I heard men on the dock the other day talking about it as a place people are moving to.”

  Stewart shifted in his chair and gave her a face. “Did all that cold weather out there freeze parts of your brain because you’re scaring me now?” he said.

  “Be nice,” Abigail warned. “My mother’s idea isn’t all that ludicrous. I’ve heard people talking about Hollywood, too, but it’s for wealthy mid-westerners, which we certainly are not. They’re buying up residential lots there to build homes, so they can winter in California.”

  “Then if Key West doesn’t pan out, we’ll head for California,” Stewart said.

  “No, no, we won’t,” said Abigail. “We’re going home to Kentucky. The discussion ends here.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, standing up. “How could it end here when I haven’t even had a chance to say anything?” Standing made me feel taller then when I sat, and more powerful, and if I didn’t want to be a writer, I’d probably want to be a speech giver, for I liked giv
ing speeches when I had something good to say. “We’d be fools to leave this area,” I began. “This is a good place to live. People are pouring in from all over the world.”

  “For what? Fishing over at Punta Rassa?” Stewart asked. “Those tourists aren’t helping our farming any.”

  “I’ll answer questions when I’m done. Please don’t interrupt,” I said. “It doesn’t matter why people are moving here, just that once they get a taste of it, they’re smitten and want to move their families here.” I stopped for a moment, sipped some tea and prepared to tell them that I had fallen in love here as well, and his name was Jaden, and if they tried forcing me to leave, I’d be getting married tomorrow at dusk. “I myself am madly in love with this area,” I continued. “I couldn’t possibly imagine living anywhere but here, and I’m also in love with …”

  “Save your words for a situation in which they might actually be helpful,” my mother broke in. “Our decision is made. You, your grandmother, and I are headed back to Kentucky where we can at least reunite with some family members, and, Stewart, you’re headed off to Key West, only long enough to make a fortune and bring it all home. That’s it, that’s all there is to discuss,” she said, waving her hands through the air at me as if I were a bug she was trying to shoo away.

  “Kentucky?” Dumbfounded, I dared to ask, “But why? I don’t get it.”

  “It’s home,” said Abigail. “There’s something normal about returning home. Now get into your room and get started with your packing. We’ll leave not tomorrow, but the morning after that, early.”

  I ran into my room, not to cry, nor get packing, nor collapse onto my bed, but to open my journal and get writing, for I had to chronicle everything that happened. Doing so might put it all into perspective and help me make my decision. I could marry Jaden near the lighthouse tomorrow at dusk, then say farewell to my parents the next morning, or I could not show up at the lighthouse and leave with my family the next morning. It was that simple, I told myself. But If I chose to marry, I would most certainly invite my family. It would be up to them whether to show or not.

  When I finished writing, I started to pack. Regardless of what my decision would be, I’d have to pack. Packing would be simple. I was glad not to be rich or to have acquired and collected a bunch of material stuff without meaning that would only weigh me down. All my belongings would easily fit into three large bags.

  Everyone had taken seats but me. I was still standing, my knees wobbling, and the lighthouse was standing too. “Ava, the ferry is ready to leave. What are you waiting for? Sit down,” Grandmalia said to me.

  I smiled at her through my tears. I couldn’t possibly tell her that my private hopes that Jaden might still show were getting slighter by the moment. As I stared over at the lighthouse in the distance, I thought of him arriving there the evening before only to find the Junonia I had left him in the dirt. It pained me horribly to think of him digging into the mound and finding my journal, filled with pages of my love for him and descriptions of my mother’s situation. Surely, he would see how torn I had been, and that despite my decision to stay with my mother I loved him more than anything else. And maybe he would recognize that I made the wrong choice in not showing up to marry him and he would take off in search of me before it was too late, before this ferry pulled away.

  “Ava, sit your buttocks down now,” Grandmalia insisted again. “What is your problem, girl?”

  And just as I sat down I saw the other man in my life, my daddy, running along the dock, giving the “just one minute” signal to the boat captain. He hopped aboard and kissed Dahlia on the cheek and then walked over to me.

  “Good-bye, coconut,” he said. “I’m just going long enough to make a fortune, and I’ll be home.”

  I jumped up from my seat and threw my arms around his neck like the tangling roots of a banyan tree. “I wish I could come with you, instead,” I whispered in his ear. “I’ll bet I could roll cigars like any man.”

  “I’m sure you can, but your mother needs you more,” he said. “I’ve promised your grandmother I’d send her cigars, and I’ll send a couple to you as well. Just don’t tell your mother.” He winked over at Dahlia, and when the captain cleared his voice, he quickly said, “I’ll send you the finest, and I’ll send money, too.” Then he walked over to my mother and got down on his knees, and I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say to her, but to my surprise, he didn’t have a chance to say anything because she reached out and grabbed him and pulled him close.

  As I watched them embrace, I thought about the man that I loved and how I might never be able to put my arms around him again. It wasn’t fair to think that soon I’d be gone from the island like a living seashell yanked off the beach. It was as wrong as picking a sea oat and bothering a resting or a nesting bird and littering on the beach and there should be laws against these sorts of things, and of taking a girl away from the one place she wants to be, the place she belongs. Life was so brittle, I thought. It could be going along so beautifully and all of a sudden a branch breaks and everything you were sitting on collapses to the ground.

  A moment later my father struggled out of her grip, stood up, and stepped onto the dock.

  “Daddy,” I called out without emotion. “After being with all those Cubans and Spanish-speaking Negroes, what if we don’t understand you anymore when you come home?”

  “That’s not how it works,” he reassured me from the edge of the dock. “Learning a new language doesn’t mean you forget your old one, baby. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too! I love you all,” he said, waving, and then as he started to tear up, I saw him rub his eyes, then turn, and venture down the path. I could hardly think. My mind was dizzy with anger and love for him. I had turned down the man I loved so I wouldn’t abandon my parents, and now my daddy was selfishly off to Key West for a wild adventure of his own. As the boat pulled slowly away from the dock, I considered changing my mind. The boat was only a couple of inches from the dock, an easy hop. Find Jaden. Find Jaden. Find Jaden, my heart pounded out to me. The boat was about a foot from the dock, but I could jump. Jaden and I used to compete to see who could jump the farthest. And as the boat continued a few feet from the dock, I knew Jaden would be proud to see me jump this far. “It’s still not too late,” I said, trying to motivate myself. “You might think it is, but you can still change your mind.”

  “Ava,” my mother said. “You shouldn’t be standing so close to the edge. Sit down, young lady.”

  I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. I was still watching to see if Jaden might come running down the path, at least to wave good-bye, or maybe swim out to meet me halfway in the water. The boat was several feet from the dock now, but I was a good swimmer, slow like a manatee, but steady. I could swim far, and distance, not speed, is what I would be facing now more than anything. Then again, the water was cold. Manatees hate cold water. So do I. The cold could kill me. And if my mama jumped in after me, it could kill her. I didn’t want that.

  Lydia

  “Don’t be a fool, Ava! Jump!” I said when I reached the end of her writing. “Jump, or you’ll regret it.”

  I stood up and walked into the great room. Marlena was sitting on the sofa and there was a tray with teacups on the coffee table. I sat down and stared into the cups. “Looks like milk,” I said, unsure that it was anything I wanted to try. “What is it?”

  “I told you, an old family recipe.”

  I picked up a cup and tasted slowly. Warm milk. Honey. Butter … “Brandy too?” I asked. I didn’t need any answer. The brandy was quite strong. I took another taste, trying to piece it all together. “Did you say this was your family recipe?”

  She was smiling and nodding and raising her own teacup to her lips, and then she slurped and gulped in the most unladylike manner.

  “Has anyone ever told you,” I said, as I watched a little spill over the rim of her cup, “that you sip your drink exa
ctly the way your grandmother Abigail once did?” Marlena laughed and put the cup down. “Have I got it right? Abigail was your grandmother?”

  “Yes, and Ava my mother. I never got to meet my grandmother, yet I do believe some ways of doing things are carried on through the generations, simple things most people probably don’t know about, but I do, thanks to Ava’s journal. I guess I do slurp and gulp like my grandmother once did.” She laughed some more. “And I did have my great-Grandmalia’s nose. Sometimes it makes me sad that I erased that part of her from my face, but, my God, Lydia, you should have seen my nose before.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Then you can tell me whether Ava makes it work with Jaden. You know the ending of this story. You are the ending.”

  “No. I like to think of myself as the continuation.”

  “Who’s your father? Is it Jaden?”

  “There’s more to the story,” she said. “It gets complicated.”

  “Tell me,” I insisted. “Did she jump from the boat and swim back? Did she marry him after all? Marlena, you can’t keep me waiting any longer. I’ve got to know.”

  “When are you leaving, dear?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m definitely leaving the island tomorrow. But I’m not sure yet where I’m leaving to. Chicago or Key West.”

  “I don’t think you stand a chance at getting a job rolling cigars, dear.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not why I’d go to Key West,” I said with a laugh.

  “Josh is there. I figure I could take a speedboat and get there right away.” I stopped and gave thought to what I was saying and thinking. “Am I crazy?” I asked. “I think maybe I am. Or maybe I’m confused. I’ve never loved a guy before. Can you tell me whether Ava jumped from that boat and how it all turned out?”

  “Ava’s choices were Ava’s choices, and Lydia’s choices will be Lydia’s,” she said. “I don’t think Ava wrote about her life with the intention of telling anybody what to do. That’s not why women share their stories.”