One Summer

  “And your name?”

  She hesitated but then said, “Mikki. Mikki Armstrong.”

  They ran on.

  “So what grade are you in?”

  “Junior next year.”

  “I’ll be a senior. So you guys just moved down here?” said Blake.

  “Yeah, from Cleveland.”

  “Wow, Cleveland.”

  She looked to see if he was making fun of her. “Yeah, Cleveland. Got a problem with that?”

  “No, I meant that was cool. You have a pro football team. Although no more LeBron James.”

  “Yeah, but we have the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

  “That’s cool. You play music?”

  “Some, yeah. Mostly guitar. And bass.”

  “I’d like to hear it sometime.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re hard to get to know.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Maybe we can hang out sometime.”

  “Again, why? If Tiffany is your type, it would be a waste of time. Because I’m not a Tiffany by any stretch of the imagination.”

  “Because it’s nice to meet some people who aren’t from around here. Small towns can be pretty boring.”

  “Well, I plan to run on the beach about this time every day.”

  “Great. Maybe next time I won’t get the evil eye as much.”

  He playfully punched her in the arm, and Mikki let slip a tiny smile.

  “Finally, a crack in the armor,” he kidded.

  “Do you know Liam Fontaine?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’s cool but a little odd.”

  “Odd? Why?”

  “No sports, though I know he’s a good athlete.”

  “Well, he works at the restaurant and he has his music. Not much time for anything else.”

  “Sounds like you already know him.”

  “I met him. He’s an amazing musician.”

  Blake grinned. “Maybe you should ask him out.”

  “Please. I don’t really know him.”

  “That’s all I’m asking for. A chance to get to know you.”

  Later, they finished their run. Blake said, “See you tomorrow?”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re a good runner.”

  “So are you,” she conceded.

  “Have a good one.”

  He took off at a full sprint, and she caught herself admiring his tanned, muscled back and legs. Then she headed on to the Palace.

  30

  At the Channing hardware store, Jack and Sammy loaded up the truck with the materials for the work at Jenna Fontaine’s house. Charles Pinckney came outside to see them, and Jack introduced him to Sammy.

  “Appreciate the referral, Charles,” said Jack, as he hoisted another box into the truck bed. “And thanks for putting a rush on these materials for me. I know it’s not stuff you’d normally keep in stock.”

  “Glad to do it. And Jenna is a fine person. She runs the most popular restaurant in town, so she can be a great lead for other work.”

  “And gorgeous to boot,” said Sammy.

  Both men were wearing cargo shorts, tank tops, and work boots. It was still morning, but the temperature was already in the eighties.

  “Charles, I had a question,” said Jack. “I was wondering about the lighthouse. Its history.”

  “My father built it along with the house. It was originally listed on the official navigational charts. But one day it just stopped working.”

  “Anybody ever try to get it running again?”

  Pinckney looked surprised. “Why, no. What would be the point? By the time it broke, they didn’t use it for a navigational aid anymore.”

  “Just asking,” said Jack.

  He and Sammy left Pinckney and drove on to Jenna’s house. She’d already left for the restaurant, but she’d pinned a note to the front door telling them that the entrance on the lower level was unlocked. They hauled the materials in, and after covering all of Liam’s musical instruments and the furniture with drop cloths, they began to tear out the existing drywall. The plan was to backfill the wall and ceiling spaces with soundproofing materials and then replace the original drywall with specialized denser material that would also act as a sound block.

  Around one o’clock they heard someone upstairs.

  “Hello?” It was Jenna’s voice.

  “Down here,” called out Jack.

  She came down the steps carrying a large white bag.

  She held up the bag. “Well, I hope you boys haven’t eaten yet.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” said Jack.

  “Well, I’m glad you did. I’m hungry,” exclaimed Sammy.

  Jenna smiled and unpacked two large turkey and cheese sandwiches, chips, pickles, cookies, and sodas on a table against a wall. While she did this, she gazed around the room. “Boy, you two have been busy.”

  Jack nodded. “It’s going better than I thought it would. That means it’ll be less expensive for you.”

  Sammy put down his tools, wiped off his hands on a clean rag, walked over, and examined the food she’d brought. He bowed formally and said, “You are a goddess sent from above for two weary travelers.”

  Jenna laughed. “It’s so nice to meet a real gentleman.”

  Jack rinsed off his hands using a bottle of water and a rag and sat down across from Sammy. He looked at Jenna. “You didn’t bring yourself anything?”

  “I always eat early before the lunch crowd gets in. Place is packed. Always is during the summer.”

  “Looks like you have a gold mine there,” Jack noted.

  She sat on a small hassock, crossed her legs, and said, “We do fine. But the profit margins are small and the hours are long.”

  “Buddy of mine ran a restaurant,” said Sammy after he swallowed a bite of his sandwich. “Said it was the hardest work he’d ever done.”

  Jack munched on a chip and said, “So why do you do it, then, Jenna?”

  Jenna had on a black skirt and a white blouse. She’d slipped her heels off and was rubbing her feet. Jack’s gaze dipped to her long legs before quickly retreating. If she noticed, she didn’t react.

  “I’m my own boss. I’m a people person. I admit I get a kick out of walking into the Little Bit and knowing it’s mine. And it’s something I can leave for Liam, if he wants it, that is. He’ll probably be off touring with a band. But it’ll be there for him.”

  “Nice legacy for your kid,” said Sammy.

  “I know about Jack, but do you have any children, Sammy?”

  “No, ma’am. Uncle Sam was my family. That was enough.”

  “Uncle Sam? You mean?”

  Jack answered. “Sammy was in the army. ’Nam. After that, Delta Force.”

  Jenna looked at Sammy in awe. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  Sammy wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well, Jack won’t tell you about himself because he’s too damn modest. So I’ll do the honors.”

  “Sammy,” Jack said in a warning tone. “Don’t.”

  “Two Purple Hearts and a Bronze Star,” Sammy said, giving Jack a defiant look. He pointed to Jack’s bullet wound on his arm. “Purple for that.” He pointed to Jack’s scarred calves. “And a Purple for that. And the Bronze for saving a bunch of his buddies from an ambush that almost cost him his life.”

  Jenna gazed at Jack, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. “That’s amazing.”

  “What it was, was a long time ago.” Jack finished his meal and balled up the paper, putting it in the white bag she’d brought. “Really appreciate the lunch, Jenna.” He rose. “We need to get back to work, Sammy.”

  Jack started cutting out more of the walls.

  Jenna eyed Sammy.

  In a low voice, he said, “He’s a complicated guy.”

  As Jenna watched Jack attack the walls, she said, “I’m beginning to see that.”

  31

  Later that night, after the kids were asleep, Jack grabbed a flashlight and headed ou
t to the lighthouse. He opened the door and shone his light around. He’d already gone through the boxes lining the walls, but now he walked up the rickety stairs carefully, testing each step before continuing on.

  He heard scurrying feet and flashed his light in time to see a mouse rush past his foot. He kept going as the old wooden stairs creaked under his weight. He finally reached the top platform, directly under the access door that led into the space where the light mechanism was located.

  As Jack moved his light around, it picked out things in the darkness; the images flew by like a reel of black-and-white film on an old projector. He stopped at one point and drew closer. It was an old mattress. He knelt down and touched it. Sitting on the mattress with its back against the wall of the lighthouse was an old doll. Jack reached down and picked it up. The doll’s hair was grimy and moldy, its face stained with dirt and water. Still, he looked at it as though it were a bar of gold. He knew this had been Lizzie’s. He’d seen her holding it in an old photo of her as a child.

  He stood and moved the light around some more. His beam froze on a picture that had been drawn with what looked to be black Magic Marker on the wall. It was a little girl with pigtails and a huge smile. Under the figure was the name “Lizzie.” Next to the picture of the girl was a drawing of the lighthouse with the beam on. Above that was written the word “Heaven.” Jack noted that the lighthouse beam had been extended out to encompass the word.

  He was about to move on when his light caught on something else. He knelt down and held the flashlight close to the wall. The image had been partially rubbed out, but Jack could still tell what it was. It was another drawing of a little girl, with pigtails. At first Jack thought it was merely a second drawing of Lizzie. But as he eyed the faded image more closely, he saw there was a major difference. In the drawing the little girl wasn’t smiling. Her mouth pointed downward.

  “Not a happy girl,” whispered Jack. His gaze shot lower. He edged closer to read what was written there on the wall. Three letters: “T-i-l.”

  It had to refer to Tillie, Lizzie’s twin sister, who’d died of meningitis. He sat back on his haunches and viewed the drawing in its entirety. The remaining letters had faded too badly to be read.

  The drawing of the beam of light from the lighthouse extended outward but fell short of encompassing the image of Tillie. She remained firmly in the dark.

  “You never found Heaven, Lizzie. And you never found Tillie.”

  Jack felt tears creep to his eyes, and his lungs suddenly couldn’t get enough air.

  Holding the doll under one arm, he pushed open the door that led to the catwalk encircling the top exterior of the lighthouse. Jack stared up at the dark sky. Heaven was up there somewhere. And, of course, so was Tillie.

  And now Lizzie too.

  He held up his hand and waved to her. And then, feeling slightly foolish, he let his hand drop but continued to stare up. Right this minute his wife seemed so close to him. He shut his eyes and conjured her face. It couldn’t possibly be more than six months since he’d heard her voice and her laugh, felt her skin or watched her smile.

  It can’t possibly be that long, Lizzie.

  He reached up. His finger covered a star that was probably a trillion light-years away and the size of the sun. But his finger covered it all. How close Lizzie must be to him, if he could cover up an entire star with his finger.

  Heaven must be right up there.

  He carefully set the doll down and slipped the envelope from his pocket. It had the number three written on the outside. The letter was dated December twentieth. He already knew what it said. He’d memorized every word of every letter. But if Lizzie could not read them, he would do it for her.

  Dear Lizzie,

  Christmas is five days away and it’s a good time to reflect on life. Your life. This will be hard. Hard for me to write and hard for you to read, but it needs to be said. You’re young and you have many years ahead of you. Cory and Jackie will be with you for many more years. And even Mikki will benefit. I’m talking about you finding someone else, Lizzie.

  I know you won’t want to at first. You’ll even feel guilty about thinking about another man in your life, but, Lizzie, it has to be that way. I cannot allow you to go through the rest of your life alone. It’s not fair to you, and it has nothing to do with the love we have for each other. It will not change that at all. It can’t. Our love is too strong. It will last forever. But there are many kinds of love, and people have the capacity to love many different people. You are a wonderful person, Lizzie, and you can make someone else’s life wonderful. Love is to be shared, not hidden, not hoarded.

  Jack paused for a moment as a solitary tear plunked down on the paper.

  And you have much love to share. It doesn’t mean you love me any less. And I certainly could never love you more than I already do. But in your heart you will find more love for someone else. And you will make him happy. And he will make you happy. And Jackie especially will have a father to help him grow into a good man. Our son deserves that. Believe me, Lizzie, if it could be any other way, I would make it so. But you have to deal with life as it comes. And I’m trying my best to do just that. I love you too much to accept anything less than your complete and total happiness.

  Love,

  Jack

  Jack slipped the letter into the envelope and put it back in his pocket. He picked up the doll and stared out over the ocean for a long time. He finally walked back down the stairs and out into the humid night air. He stared up at the lighthouse.

  Lizzie’s Lighthouse.

  He walked back to the house, his heart full of thoughts of what should have been.

  32

  Mikki rolled over in her bed. Outside she could hear the breakers. The physics of waves crashing on sand had been completely foreign to her a short while ago. Now she’d grown so accustomed to their presence that she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be without the sound.

  She yawned, sat up, and did a prolonged cat stretch. Glancing at her clock, she saw it was six thirty a.m. She liked to take her run around now so she could get back before her dad and Sammy left for work.

  She slipped off the long-sleeve T-shirt she normally slept in and pulled on running shorts, a tank shirt, ankle socks, and sneakers. She made a pit stop at the bathroom and tied her hair