The Wideness of the Sea

by Katie Curtis

Anna fought the urge to run after him, to hug him and tell him it wasn’t what he thought. Only it was. It was exactly what it looked like. But why should she feel guilty? He was the one who chose to let her go. Why did she feel like sitting here with Raphael was a direct assault on him? And why did she have the urge to console him? She sighed as she took a sip of beer. Why did he get so under her skin? And as she watched Raphael walk back to her. She was here with Raphael, but she couldn’t get her blood pressure under control from just seeing Andrew. She focused on Raphael’s face as he sat down, the familiar warmth of his eyes.

  “So I was thinking that you should come back with me on the flight Sunday night. I already checked and there is plenty of room.” Raphael took a sip of his beer with a mischievous expression on his face.

  Anna thought about what it would be like to get on that flight. She would leave two paintings unfinished, as well as the tidying she wanted to get done at her uncle’s. And she would say goodbye to Henry and Marie for who knew how long. She also felt something else, some unraveling inside her. She needed to be here to let it keep unraveling. She felt like she needed more rest, more reflection. “I can’t, sweetie. I’m not done fixing up my uncle’s house.”

  “We can come back in a few weeks, on the weekend, and do it together. There is an opening at John’s gallery this week that I know you would love. And I have been dying to take you to the new restaurant that just opened around the corner from there. And I want to hold you. Isn’t that an offer you can’t refuse?” he said, his eyes glowing. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek, moving slowly toward her ear. Anna felt the silkiness of his offer. Something in her resisted it, though.

  “I know if I go back now, I will get sucked up in the busy schedule and life there, and I will leave all these things undone. I should just stay for a few more weeks and then go back,” she finally managed. It was not easy to disappoint Raphael.

  He sat back. His face looked equally handsome and quizzical. He said nothing, but looked around the bar at the other patrons. One looked back in his direction, a female. Anna could guess why.

  “I don’t get it,” he said, turning back to her. “What is here for you? What is the big draw?” He put his glass down, and she could see on his face frustration that hadn’t quite turned to anger. Anna was suddenly very relieved he hadn’t seen Andrew talking to her. She stared out at the harbor. She noticed the big red house with a large yard facing them on the other side of the harbor. The property was outlined in trees. Maine pine trees. They looked so majestic next to the big house and the barn next to it. She had always loved that house. It had belonged to one of Charlie’s coworkers.

  “I don’t expect you to get it,” she said. “I grew up here. The draw is just to be home, in the place where you came from. There is something about Maine that calls you back, I guess. When you go back to Connecticut or Argentina, don’t you plan a long stay?” she managed. Anna had visited his parents’ house in Connecticut for weekends and holidays, but remembered as she said it that he tried to keep it to a few days when they did. His brother and sister lived there too, but usually came into the city to see him. She hoped the Argentina angle would be more helpful.

  “No. We stay for a week, I line up everyone I need to see, then take the first flight back to New York. I wouldn’t want to stay there this long. I can’t leave my real life alone that long. The worry that I have is where you feel like your real life is.” He held her hands in his and looked at her for what felt like an eternity. “I can only hope it is with me.”

  When they arrived at Uncle Charlie’s—Anna’s—house, Raphael was asleep on one of the twin beds in the guest room before Anna could even show him where the bathroom was. He had always been a morning person, and the adrenaline rush of his days made him exhausted by ten. Anna covered him with blankets and crept downstairs. She poured a glass of wine and sat outside, watching her breath form bulbous clouds in the night air.

  She tried to stop seeing Andrew’s face.

  She looked up at the sky, stars hung like lights at a party. And in the glow of the moon on the harbor, the stars like a wreath around it, the night sky seemed an alter to all that is good and holy. The black sky and the water in the harbor melted into one and wrapped around her like a blanket. She sat in silence, and after a few moments, she noticed that even though the stars were so bright, they were not the most powerful thing that assaulted her senses. What hit her the most was the far-off sound of waves crashing, on the other side of the harbor, behind the houses across the harbor. The waves she could not see were crashing, and the sound was at once violent and peaceful, turbulent and serene. A reminder that somethings turn without you, even when they are out of sight.

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, Anna rose early, made a pot of coffee, put on a sweatshirt and walked down to Riley’s to get the paper, a loaf of their delicious cheese bread, and eggs. When she returned, Raphael was still asleep. She went out to the boathouse and looked at the piece she was working on. It was a lone boat on the water, like the one that had sold the day Uncle Charlie had died, but there was a different color pallet – softer, pastel colors - that echoed how peaceful she felt here in Maine.

  She thought of Raphael’s fear that she would stay here. In her head, Anna kept feeling like her time in Maine would run its course and she would feel compelled to go back to New York. It had been almost three weeks. But each morning she woke up excited to do what faced her that day.

  She thought of waking up in New York in a few weeks. She was happy painting in the city. She enjoyed going out at night. But often she felt like a boat tied to an anchor. Just floating. Her anchors were Raphael, the gallery, and her painting. But here in Maine, she didn’t feel like she was drifting. She felt more like a part of the rocks, the dirt and the trees. Her senses and her heart floated on the fresh air. This translated into some of the best work she had ever done. All of her felt alive here. Maybe that would change in the next few weeks, but she wanted to ride out the wave while it was happening.

  When she got to the house, she opened the back door that had white paint peeling off of it. Uncle Charlie would no doubt have already stripped and repainted it with the first few weekends of nice weather. Anna added it to the to-do list. When she got inside, she found Raphael in the kitchen, in shorts only, his bare chest café-au-lait-colored. She walked up and hugged him and put her face into the nape of his neck. “Good morning,” she said.

  He put his arms around her. “Good morning, beautiful. Wow, it is amazing how good you can sleep in the fresh air here. I can’t remember the last time I slept that well,” he said, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Where were you this morning? I wanted to reach over and hug you but you were gone,” he said. “And I was in a twin bed,” he laughed, kissing her gently.

  “I went to the store to get us some breakfast. You need to try Riley’s cheese bread. There is nothing like it in the city,” she said, smiling. Raphael raised his eyebrows at the challenge.

  “So do you want to go check out the galleries near the harbor or head down to Damariscotta? There are lots of shops and restaurants down there.”

  Raphael put his arms even tighter around her. “Or we could stay here.” He smiled.

  “I want you to see downtown. Please.” She smiled back at him and quickly kissed him. She pulled out of his embrace and turned to toast the bread.

  “Okay, but it will be difficult. The air up here is making you more beautiful, if that is even possible.” Raphael had learned the art of chivalry very well in Argentina. It was definitely one of the things that attracted Anna to him. They ate in front of the picture window, the sunlight bathing the kitchen. She pointed out some of the projects around the house that she wanted to do. “What do you think of having this become a summer place for us?” she asked, brushing the crumbs off her hands.

  “Well, it’s pretty far,” Raphael said, “but very beautiful. Realistically we could only get here a few times a year. But it’s your house
; you have to decide.”

  “The neighbors want to buy it from me,” she said, putting their plates in the sink. She saw Raphael’s eyebrows go up, interested in the prospect.

  “You mean you could get the money out of the house and then come up here and rent something else?” he said, his voice sounding like it was an easy proposition.

  “So I take it that is what you think I should do?” Anna said, putting her hands in her pockets, her hip resting on the sink.

  “I think it is an opportunity. It’s your choice, but there are such things as missed opportunities.” Raphael’s confident sales voice was full of persuasion. “Besides, they’re a very hungry buyer, to have contacted you all so soon after your uncle’s passing. So you have that on your side when you negotiate.”

  Anna suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Talking about sweet Uncle Charlie’s passing so indiscreetly, as a bargaining chip, made her queasy.

  “I can’t handle that decision right now,” she said, running her hands through her messy dark locks, sighing. Her pale skin seemed a shade paler. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

  She should have never thrown that debate onto the table with him, she thought as she showered. She knew how he would feel even before she said it. Something in Anna fiercely defended her choices here. It was her life, her family. Raphael was happy just having their life in New York City. But she didn’t feel like being that Anna anymore. She wished he could open up his world to include this – Maine, the house, time away from the city – but she was doubtful.

  She dressed in jeans and a sweater, and came downstairs. “Do you want to shower too?” she asked, her voice neutral. Raphael was at the table, The New York Times spread out all around him.

  “Sure, I’ll be right back. Listen, whatever you decide, its ok with me.” He gave her a quick kiss and headed upstairs.

  Anna sipped her coffee while she perused the headlines. She opened the arts section and saw a small piece in the corner about the Art Basel Miami. She tucked the section in a drawer in the kitchen just as Raphael came down the stairs.

  Half an hour later, they walked down the main street in Damariscotta. They hit a bookstore, then a discount store. When they found a wine and cheese store, Raphael found some Argentinean wine that he bought to take back to the city.

  It was almost one o’clock when they came upon a small English-style pub that overlooked the estuaries. They ducked in and sat down, each ordering a pint of Guinness. While they waited, Anna could feel the slight awkwardness that had settled in around them. She tried to keep things light. “They have a great burger here, and oh, you have to try the crab cakes with the frisée salad. Amazing.”

  Raphael managed a smile. “They have crab cakes in New York, too, you know.”

  “Then order something else,” Anna said. The sourness of his comment was echoed in hers. She looked down at the menu and only glanced up when the waitress put down her drink.

  “So you said your mom had a gallery down here?” Raphael asked, his tone light, ignoring Anna’s crankiness.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Anna answered, nodding. “She had one in the barn at home, and one downtown.”

  “How is your dad doing, with his brother passing away?” He seemed to sense that he had been unnecessarily confrontational. He was trying to ebb back into calmer waters with some compassion.

  “He is doing okay, I guess. I am not sure since we aren’t on deep talking terms, but he seems like he has been handling it well.” She hadn’t told Raphael about her dad’s inheritance. She didn’t feel like talking about money anymore. The pub quickly became crowded, and there seemed to be people surrounding them. Their food was set down in front of them, and as she started to eat her delicious crab cakes, she noted that Raphael had ordered the burger and the crab cakes. He was trying. Anna suddenly thought of an idea. Something they could do that would be sure to be fun and maybe break the tension between them.

  “After this I am going to take you somewhere special.” Anna looked up and smiled.

  Raphael knew not to challenge this one. “Waitress,” he motioned. “I’ll take another beer.”

  Anna drove them down Route 130 through Bristol, back to Pemaquid. They parked near a boat launch next to a cozy restaurant. They walked slowly up the rocky path to the docks, in the new rubber flip-flops they had just bought at Renys. Their lunch and the beers gave them an invigorated energy, and the wind whipped at Anna’s hair. They came to a small wooden stand with canoes and kayaks propped up against it and lying all around it. Anna looked for someone, and in a few minutes a man came out of the restaurant and stood behind the stand. Anna chatted with him, handed him some cash, and turned to Raphael. “Ready to go sea kayaking?” She buckled on a life vest, grabbed a paddle, and pulled a large yellow kayak down to the boat launch. Raphael grabbed a kayak and followed her, running to catch up.

  They headed out onto the Pemaquid River, which was really brackish water fed by a series of ponds and rivers, mixing freshwater with salt as it headed out to Pemaquid Harbor. Anna was reminded again why she loved being out on the water here. The motion of their paddles mixed with the ocean swells, relaxing her. They paddled for several minutes, eyes looking out at water that enveloped them, a cold wet tapestry that was all they could see. There were a few landmarks on the shore that got smaller and smaller, and the green and brown coast followed them along the left side.

  Soon they came to a bend in the land, and Raphael noticed the large brown structure that was up ahead, a landmark that was long familiar to Anna. It was the fort at Pemaquid Harbor. Beyond that it was the wide ocean, dotted with colorful buoys.

  It’s beautiful, Anna thought. If this doesn’t win over Raphael, nothing will. She hoped he would fall in love with this stretch of water, one of the most pristine places she had ever experienced. It didn’t help that her memory kept conjuring up times when she and Andrew would paddle out here for hours at a time, after he had come in from fishing. You could see herons, frogs, ducks, and turtles here, especially in the summer. It was about as far from the city as you could get. Anna waited for Raphael’s reaction.

  But as he paddled his boat up to hers, he asked, “So what are you going to do about Art Basel Miami?” Anna’s mind reeled in from the serenity of this place to the stress of her decision, and more importantly, how Raphael had learned of it.

  She grabbed the side of his boat. “How did you hear about that?” she asked. Her pulse quickened, and she couldn’t tell if it was nerves or anger that Genevieve told him. She was playing hardball—apparently she wanted this bad.

  He looked out at the water. “Genevieve called me this week. Asked me to talk you into doing it,” he said, smiling. “I think it is a big honor, so at the very least, congratulations are in order.” He spoke respectfully, but then added. “I have to say, I am a little hurt you never told me. About your openings at the gallery.”

  She took a deep breath and stared at the shore. She watched a fish jump, leaving concentric circles growing wider in its wake. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I didn’t say anything for the same reason I don’t want to do Art Basel. It would change everything to operate as a successful artist. I would have to schmooze and talk and be exposed, I guess. When I made all the pieces, it was really private. I only know how to work like that, when I think it will be just me who will see the painting. The more people I let in, especially those close to me, the more it will change. I didn’t tell Georgia either.”

  “I understand, I guess. But you get instant credibility, plus a really wide audience for less than a week’s worth of being in the public. What artist doesn’t want that?”

  “Apparently I’m the only one.” They paddled in silence, and Anna tried to let the rhythmic motion of rowing relax her. “So I guess you saw the short article in the New York Times, huh?” Raphael nodded, looking sheepish.

  “Look, let’s just enjoy the rest of this paddle. I am thinking about it and I’ll let you know when I come up with an answer.” Anna’s stoma
ch twisted in knots. Then they rounded the corner.

  Suddenly she saw the dock where Andrew had told her he wasn’t going to New York. The memory flooded her, and she could picture sitting there that day in an instant. Like no time had passed. How many hard emotions could she handle? She looked out at the amphitheater of sky and water, which offered no answers, just a vastness, an impartial kind of wisdom that surpassed her present state. She watched two seagulls fly together overhead, their movements effortless. She envied them in their ease.

  “Hey, Raphael, let’s turn around at the next bend and duck in for a beer at that restaurant near the car.” It was called the Contented Sole. Anna had anything but.

  They paddled back in silence and returned the supplies to the man behind the wooden stand. Inside, the restaurant was quiet. Tourist season hadn’t picked up yet, but there were a few locals. Anna would have loved to sit here by the water all afternoon, having fun with Raphael, the way they used to spend Saturday afternoons in New York. She knew they needed to get ready for the gala, but there was also something confusing and hard about having Raphael here. She had been hoping it would be easy. She thought she’d give it one last chance to be fun.

  She watched him sit down across from her at a table in the corner, his rugged good looks fitting in here as much as they did in the city. The windows were large picture windows, making the ocean look touchable with just an outstretched hand. A skinny girl with dyed black hair and black nails came to get their drink order. Anna did a double take—it almost looked like the girl could have been a New Yorker. Then she read the back of her T-shirt: Lincoln Academy. That was where Anna had gone. The girl could have been her, if she had stayed here.

  Raphael sipped his beer. After he put it down, he said, “Anna, what’s wrong? Something is different about you, and I don’t understand it.” His accent was more pronounced, and Anna couldn’t tell if it was from being angry or tired. “You seem really on edge, and it’s not like you. I am wondering if it was a mistake that I came up.”