The Wideness of the Sea

by Katie Curtis

  Chapter 24

  She pulled into Marie’s driveway in the late afternoon, realizing how great it was to be going to her house at this time of day, guessing her sister had made something delicious for dinner. She was so happy that she could feast off both her siblings today. With her windows down, she could smell the sea air, and she appreciated the quiet beauty of Pemaquid even more after her time in the city, where the noise and energy pulsed around her all the time.

  When she walked inside, her sister was lying on the couch, and Henry was playing with his toy plastic hammer, bopping it on her head. “Hi guys,” Anna said cheerfully. Her sister looked up at her with a pale face, messy hair and pajamas that were trying to pass for clothes.

  “Hi,” she said. “How was your visit?” she asked, her voice weak.

  “Marie, what’s wrong?” Anna asked, picking up blocks and trucks to make a path to the couch.

  Marie smiled at her sheepishly. “Actually, I was waiting until you came back to tell you in person. I’m pregnant!”

  Anna processed her words as she sat down at the kitchen island. “What, are you . . . oh my gosh!” She jumped up and hugged her sister. “I am so excited! I get to be an auntie again. How far along are you?”

  “It is still early, I am only about eight weeks. But the wicked bad nausea just set in. I made peanut butter and jelly for lunch because I can’t really cook right now.” She set out the plate of triangle sandwiches.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry,” Anna said, “What can I do? Do you want me to get dinner for Henry? Maybe something for you, like soup?”

  “You don’t have to Anna, it’s ok,” Marie tried to get up slowly. Henry ran toward Anna and shouted, “Auntie! Can I have some apple juice?”

  “Sure buddy, your mom looks like she could use some too. And some crackers.”

  “I’ll be fine after I eat something, I just had trouble getting up.”

  “You just stay there. I’ll bring you something. Henry, come over here, let’s do some play doh while Auntie makes you dinner.”

  “Play doh!” Henry said, pulling out his toddler-sized chair and sitting down at his small table in the kitchen.

  “Wow, Anna, you sure picked a great time to come over. Thanks,” Marie said smiling a sickly smile as Anna put Henry’s cut up hot dog on a plate. “I can’t even touch one of those right now and it’s all he wants.

  “I’m glad to be here too,” Anna said. Her heart glowed at the happy news, and she set down the hot dogs next to Henry and reached out to hug him, imagining another person she would love as much as him. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about seeing Stephen today,” she started, not sure if her sister could handle anything stressful.

  “That’s right, what happened with him and the painting?”

  Anna poured a can of soup into a pot, then turned on the stove. “Poor guy, he did try to sell it. Didn’t want any of us to know that his restaurant was under water and he thought that could help him get ahead. I gave him a loan, though. Or became a silent partner, not sure which. We’re getting the painting back.”

  Marie nodded while she took in the news. “Oh Anna, how wonderful of you. I had no idea he was struggling. That makes me instantly forgive him, poor guy.” Marie took a sip from a glass next to her and put her hand on her stomach in the universal way pregnant women do. She looked up and smiled at Anna. “She’d be proud of you, you know,”

  “Who?”

  “Mom. I don’t like to feel sorry for myself too much when it comes to losing her. I like to think about how lucky we are to have had her as a mom. But I was thinking of her while I was lying on the couch, wishing she could have come in and played grandma to Henry and mom to me while I didn’t feel good. I was really missing her. And then you came through the door. And she would be really proud of how you helped Stephen. It’s nice to have you home.” Marie said.

  “It’s good to be home,” Anna said, squeezing her hand.

  “So how is everything? How are you feeling about Raphael?”

  “It’s hard. I keep wanting to call him, to check in on him and see how he is doing. But I know that’s a bad idea. I miss him, and at the same time I know I made the right choice.” She took down a bowl and poured the soup into it, and set it on a plate with saltines.

  Marie stood up from the couch and poured herself some ginger ale, then joined Anna at the table. Even in her state, she looked how Anna always pictured her at home – baggy sweatshirt, fur-lined slippers, messy ponytail. It was so good to be near her sister.

  “I know, it seems odd to think of you guys not together, but at the same time, it always seemed like you were two puzzle pieces that almost fit, but not quite,” Marie said as she sipped the hot broth.

  “Really? That’s a good way to put it. I would agree. Helps me know I’m not a total idiot for letting him go.”

  “No, you’re not an idiot. You are following your heart. That’s a good thing,” she grabbed Anna’s hand and squeezed it. “By the way, have you talked to dad lately?”

  “I called him on the way up. He seems really good. I told him I was hoping to help teach this summer at the Foundation. I could tell it made him really happy. Oh, and I sent in Miranda’s application, so let me know when you see it. I can’t wait for her to come up her and see this light.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Marie said.

  “I can’t wait to meet my new niece or nephew!” Anna gushed. “I’m so happy for you, Marie.”

  Just then, as if on cue, Henry screeched across the room, a horse on a stick between his legs, the pastel colors of the setting sun illuminating the sky in the window behind him like melted sherbert. “Guess what Auntie Anna! I’m gonna be a big brudder!”

  Chapter 25

  She woke up the next morning to the sound of her alarm. She had come back to Uncle Charlie’s after she put Henry to bed, and as she sat outside listening to the harbor bell, letting it sink in that this was her new home, she had a thought. Maybe she could go out fishing on Andrew’s boat, and have a chance to talk to him. It had been hanging over her head the whole time she was in New York that she had never apologized to him. She wanted to tell him how much she had realized was her fault since then. In her stubborn way, she wanted to do it as soon as possible. It would be easier than running in to him unexpectedly and fumbling an apology.

  It was early; she could see the fog still thick around the harbor, net yet burned off by the sun, a white mist that wrapped around everything. The seagulls were screeching, which meant the lobstermen were filling their bait buckets, and they were fighting over the scraps that spilled onto the dock. She brewed some coffee and threw on her jeans, a T-shirt, and a thick navy sweater, and then pulled her hair in a ponytail. She tied a parka around her waist and drank her coffee quickly, then headed out the door.

  It was a gorgeous morning, and the waves seemed to greet her as she looked out at the ocean. She walked the short walk to Shaw’s Wharf. Right away, she saw Andrew loading his boat as soon as she turned the corner. He was wearing faded orange overalls and a gray parka, with a red baseball cap covering his messy hair. Chris was helping him coil rope into neat piles and stack lobster traps on the boat, and she heard them laughing about something as she got closer. Anna realized that they could fish for lobsters now. It was May and the lobster season had just begun.

  Andrew glanced up briefly, then looked up again when he had processed who was walking toward him. Anna saw that his face first looked sweetly happy, then guarded. “Hey, Andrew. Do you have room for one more on the boat today?”

  Andrew looked back toward the tower of traps he was stacking on the boat. She could see his mind thinking through the cost of bringing her on board. “I thought you were back in New York,” he said, squinting.

  Anna nodded. “I was. I just came back yesterday. I wondered if I could help you on the boat for a day – for old time’s sake.”

  He readjusted his hat as he thought it over. “Alright. We have a lot of traps to put in and som
e to pull up from yesterday,” he answered. “D’you mind, Chris?”

  “It might help to have someone work the line and fill the bait our first time over by the fort,” Chris said. “But just so you know, you only get paid on what we pull up tomorrow.”

  Anna laughed; she was relieved he was willing to take her on today. “Right,” she said. “I remember. But you don’t have to pay me.”

  Andrew threw her a pair of overalls, and she strapped them on. The bright orange made her feel like she was glowing, possibly even radioactive. They climbed aboard, Chris steadying the tower of traps, Andrew behind the wheel. They headed out of the harbor as Anna watched the pier at Shaw’s disappear while they rounded the bend along the coast. The ocean waves, calm in the harbor, suddenly lifted the boat up and then sharply down. Anna remembered what it felt like to be out on open ocean and braced herself. The sun was warm on their faces but the ocean breeze and wind from their speed still chilled her enough to zip up her parka.

  “We’re going out around the fort, where we have a few lines to put down, then around the lighthouse where my dad’s territory is,” Andrew said. “Anna, do you want to help Chris fill about a hundred traps for the fort area?”

  “Sure,” said Anna. She sidestepped the huge pile of buoys, bright orange with a dark green strip around the middle. Anna remembered the day back in high school when Andrew had waited eagerly to find out from the fishing association what color buoys he would have when he headed out on his own boat with his own traps for the first time. But there were also white ones with a blue strip, and Anna knew those belonged to Andrew’s dad. He had taken over for him as his MS had progressed, but still used his dad’s stripe.

  She found a seat next to a bucket filled with mackerel that was chopped into chunks. The bloody mess and stench were familiar to Anna; it took her right back to fishing with Andrew the summers they were home from school. As she scooped the chunks of fish into the traps, she thought about how much her father had discouraged her from going out fishing with him. She understood so much more now, and the familiar sting of her emotions was suddenly replaced with some new feeling. Peace? Absolution? Mostly it was understanding. She wanted to bring that understand to Andrew, to find peace with him too.

  She also felt nervous. Last night she had thought being around Andrew on the boat would calm her nerves and be a good place to talk to him. Now she wasn’t sure. She felt her legs quiver. She tried to focus on the task at hand. The work was messy and repetitive. They had just finished filling the last trap when Andrew slowed the boat down. They started a ritual of chucking traps over the edge, slowing down the coil to straighten the line so that the buoy floated just above where each trap rested on the ocean floor. Every buoy had two traps tied to it, so they drove the boat a few meters, then repeated the ritual. Chris was right. Three people made for a great rhythm and they were finished in no time.

  They sped through the ocean water towards his dad’s territory, the speed cutting the severity of the waves, and Anna took a moment to absorb what she was seeing. The expanse of the ocean on one side, and the familiar coastal town on the other, felt like a gift delivered to her heart. She could see why Andrew loved this life. It was amazing to think of spending one’s days here, inside the beauty of nature. This perspective—the blue ocean, the shoreline—sharply elevated her deep longing for this place. The tide, the waves, the seasons, the people. It mirrored a rhythm deep in her heart.

  She looked at him while he drove. His hat was off, and she saw the wind leveling his wild hair. She saw the calm strength in his hands, his eyes. He was a captain. There was something about him on the water. He was a person in his element, doing what he was born to do. Like God had called him to be a lobsterman. And behind him sat the wideness of the sea.

  She was still looking at him when he glanced at her. He motioned her over to the wheel, and she rose and waited until she had steady footing before crossing the boat. Next to him, she could hear him ask her if she wanted to hold the wheel while he checked out the sonar. She nodded, and he stepped aside, his eyes glued to the multi-colored screen with shadowy outlines of the ocean floor.

  After he studied the picture for a few minutes, he walked over to her. “So did you have a nice visit with your boyfriend in New York?” he asked casually, though he overdid the cold aloofness, trying too hard to mask any trace of emotion.

  Anna was afraid to tell him that they broke up. She frowned just thinking about how guilty she felt hurting Raphael.

  “What’s the matter, he’s not taking it too kindly that you’re here?” he said.

  Anna focused for a moment on the sound of his voice. Even with the wind, she noticed that his voice warmed something in her in a way nothing else could. It was the first thing she thought of when Raphael had asked her to marry him. Andrew’s voice. She stared out at the water and tried to figure out how to tell Andrew all of this, how to share her decision. “I think he is not taking it too kindly that Maine is such a part of me. He would prefer that Manhattan was my only geographical relationship. He also isn’t taking it too kindly that I told him I couldn’t marry him when he asked.”

  She met his eyes then, directly, and the words she had been searching for weren’t necessary now. He knew just from reading her eyes. But she still owed him something.

  “Listen, I didn’t come out here today just because I broke up with Raphael. I came out here to tell you that I realized something recently. I spent a long time being mad at you for not coming with me to New York. I blamed you for breaking us up. But...” she stepped aside as Andrew took over the wheel from her. “It finally dawned on me that it was my fault. I left. I broke us. What I asked you to do wasn’t fair. I even yelled at you for it at the gala. But I realize now how wrong I was, and I wanted to tell you I am sorry, Andrew. For everything.”

  He stood silent for what felt like an eternity, his hands resting on the big silver wheel. He snapped out of his surprise when he saw the lighthouse looming large on their right. “Hang on a sec,” he said as he turned the wheel and steered them around the tall white building and the jagged rocks that surrounded them. They got to the backside and Anna saw there were already blue and white buoys in the water. “We threw these in yesterday, just to see where the bugs had reached. They get closer to the shore the warmer the water gets, but you might actually remember that,” he said absentmindedly. He was clearly flustered, and the excuse to interrupt their conversation and focus on the traps was welcome.

  He drove the boat right up next to one of his dad’s buoys and Chris leaned over with his gaff and pulled up the line. The first trap was empty, the bait gone. The second one, though, held a beautiful large lobster. “They’re here!” Andrew yelled. “Let’s see if this is a keeper.” He inspected the lobster for any V-notches in the tail, which would have been put there by another lobsterman indicating it was a breeding female. These were always thrown back. Then he flipped over the lobster to see if there were any eggs on the tail. There weren’t; it was a male. He quickly held up the lobster to a ruler on the side of the boat to see if it was long enough, and it easily was. “It’s a keeper. On the first buoy!” He tossed it into a large white bucket and Chris quickly put rubber bands on the claws.

  They hauled the rest of the traps in no time, and the quick, fluid motions of checking of the tail, measuring the length, dumping the old bait, refilling the bait bag with new mackerel chunks over and over again became a rhythm. The work was going much faster with the addition of Anna as sternman. As they drove to each buoy, Anna was reminded of bees buzzing to each flower, pollinating them with a chunk of mackerel. She was glad Chris was doing the heavy work of pulling up the traps. She remembered how backbreaking that job was. Their first day was decent, about a hundred lobsters, which was great for only half the traps in the water. Tomorrow they should have well over two hundred with both locations. And it was only May, the lobsters just coming out of their rocky homes deep below the ocean toward warmer water.

  As Andrew pu
lled the Christina Therese up to each buoy, he said nothing but his eyes were alert. Anna tried hard to quiet the butterflies that had erupted in her stomach. She tried not to think of what she had just done. She had hoped to find peace out here today with Andrew. But it turned out a lobster boat was a hard place to talk. She wanted to tell him more, tell him how she realized that she belonged here. Having dinner at her sister’s house, playing with her nephew. Talking to her father, letting the new growth unfold between them after the forest fire she had let rage for so long. Painting at Uncle Charlie’s boathouse. Shopping at Riley’s, with Millie making her sandwiches. She hoped he would say something to her. Or maybe ask her to finish their conversation after they were done for the day. Yes, thought Anna. I’ll see if he can stay for lunch at Shaw’s Wharf.

  Except Chris thought he should stay at Shaw’s Wharf, too, next to Andrew, drinking a Smuttynose. They had to celebrate a great first catch, after all. After they had sold their catch and cleaned up the boat, it was only 1:30. And Anna didn’t think it was fair to pour her heart out while this nice Maine boy was trying to enjoy his early happy hour. She had a haddock sandwich and a beer, though she could barely eat. Andrew also seemed distracted, but seemed like he was trying to celebrate with his right-hand man.

  Of course, Anna thought. Why should I expect him to drop everything just because I figured out what a huge mistake I made?

  “This was really fun, congrats on a great first day. Thanks for letting me tag along,” she said as she drained her glass. “I should call it a day, though” she said. “Maybe I can bring Henry out sometime soon?”