Summer
2004
The sun’s arc traced a path over the water and sand, past the houses before dipping at the horizon. She had watched as teenagers and sunbathers changed their positions on blankets and towels to catch all of the sun. Like sunflowers, their bodies followed it as it marched across the sky.
Now the sky was dark and the fireworks had ended in a cacophony of noise and a symphony of color. The barges that had lined up parallel to the horizon were detonating the left over fireworks and the pleasure boats that dotted the ocean’s surface were slowly pulling away. Families were packing up beach blankets and sand chairs and leading sleepy children to cars parked just behind the dunes. There were a few parties in the houses around them, their laughter and music floated down the beach.
The smoky ghosts of the fireworks were drifting across the water’s surface and fanning across the sand. Harriet and Bud were putting the boys to bed, leaving her with Mattie and Harm on the beach.
Mattie cupped sand in her hands and let it trickle through her fingers. The small grains caught the thin moonlight as they shivered in waves to the beach. “I had fun tonight,” she said, burying her toes in the sand. “Thanks for bringing me here.” She leaned her head against Harm’s arm.
“Good and you’re welcome.” He glanced down at the top of her head. His gaze shifted to Mac and he asked, “How are you holding up, Marine?”
“Fine,” she smiled, pulling her sweater cuffs over her hands. “A little cold, but fine. The fireworks were really lovely.”
“I liked the gold ones,” Mattie said, picking her head up and leaning forward to see around Harm. “The ones that looked sort of like waterfalls.”
“They were pretty,” she agreed. She raked her fingers in the sand, cross-hatching the lines and creating little grids. The day had been almost perfect. She had spent it with people she loved. And if some of them, one in particular, didn’t love her the way she wanted, then she was almost okay with that. The problem was, the way they were acting was slowly killing her. The affectionate pats and little glances reminded her of everything she had wanted and would never have. They reminded her of everything she had tossed away in an effort to stop dancing.
Mattie pushed piles of sand around her ankles and wiggled her feet under the mounds. In the dark light, huddled next to Harm’s body, she looked young. She looked happy. “What about you, Harm?” she asked, watching the sand undulate as she flexed her toes. “Which ones did you like best?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “I liked them all.”
“But if you had to pick,” Mattie persisted.
“Then
I would have to say the shapes.”
Mattie nodded, then smiled sheepishly. “I’m acting like
a little kid who’s never seen fireworks before, aren’t
I?”
Mac smiled. “It’s okay. It’s cute.”
Seeing Mattie’s flinch, Harm said, “Uh oh, now you’ve done it. You said the dreaded ‘c’ word.”
“And with that,” Mattie stood up and brushed the sand off her legs, “I’m going inside.” She turned on her heel and marched towards the house. “Good night,” she called over her shoulder.
“Are you ready to go inside, too?” he asked, tilting his head back to see her.
She tucked a corner of the blanket around her feet and said, “No, I think I’ll stay out here for a few more minutes.” She looked down at him. “You can go in if you want.”
He sat up. “No, it’s nice out here.”
Her lips turned up in a small smile and he took a deep breath. The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Marry me.”
She sucked air in and had to remind herself to exhale. “What?” she squeaked.
He shifted on the blanket and felt the sand slip out from under him. He hadn’t meant to say the words. Not so soon anyway. He had wanted to wait until he could convince her that he wanted her, too, and not just the baby. But as usual, where she was concerned, his vocal chords and mouth had overridden his brain. And now, she was looking at him like he had punched her.
“What did you say?” she asked again.
“I said, marry me,” he repeated.
“I – oh.” She placed a hand beneath her breastbone and inhaled slowly. Her breath hitched as she tried to exhale. Her fingers grasped at her sweater’s weave, looping through the spaces. “Why?”
“Why what?” he asked.
She uncurled her legs and straightened them on the blanket. “Why do you want to marry me?” she asked, then added, “Don’t tell me that I know the reason, because, quite clearly, I don’t.” She wanted to ignore the voice in her head that was yelling that she needed to be careful, and just say yes. What she wanted, what she thought she would never have, was just offered to her. But it was a hollow offer, made because of a baby and not because it was what he wanted. It would be so easy for her to ignore the vicious voice and pretend that it was exactly what she had dreamed of. “Is it because of the baby?” she asked, screaming at herself to just shut up and not probe deeper.
Later that night, when he was trying to sleep, he would try to figure out where the conversation had gone wrong. And strangely enough, he wouldn’t think that it had been when he asked her to marry him. It could have been when she didn’t say yes right away or it could have been when he said, “Partly.”
“Partly?” she echoed, wishing that the conversation was over, that she could tuck herself into bed and sleep the words away. “Would you have asked if I weren’t pregnant?” she choked the question out.
The silence that followed the question gave her the answer she didn’t want. “Okay,” she said. “That answers that.” It was absurd. He wouldn’t have asked because they had barely managed to interact civilly before this. He wouldn’t have asked because she had told him that nothing would ever happen between them.
The parties were slowly ending. Cars were starting and he could hear people calling out good-byes as the night drew to a close. Behind them, the light in Harriet and Bud’’s room switched off, leaving the house dark except for the living room and porch lights. He felt her pat his knee and he knew she was getting ready head to back in. “Mac,” he started, relying on his weakest argument, “this will simplify-”
She interrupted, “Custody? Estate planning? Housing? You don’t honestly think I’d do anything to keep you from your child, do you?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “No.”
“Then why-” She shook her head. “No, never mind. Don’t answer that.” She stood up and dusted off the sand that clung to her legs. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.” She glanced at the house and sighed. Her lips twisted as she tried to control her emotions until she could retreat to her room. “Night.”
“Mac, wait,” he called. He scrambled to his feet, but she walked away, shaking her head and waving her hand a little. Sighing, he shook out the blanket and wondered why he had to open his mouth. Why had he rushed to change things when they were fine the way they were? But she hadn’t said no, hadn’t answered the question either way, and it was going to be up to her to bring up the subject again. He surely wasn’t going to ask again and he didn’t know what he would say if she did.
He flicked the porch light off and stood on the darkened deck. Only a few boats remained on the water. The waves crashed against the jetties and the beach was empty. The tide was rolling in and the waves were creeping closer to the houses. As he watched the water, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of wave it would take to reach the point where they had been sitting. And he couldn’t help but wish a wave would carry the whole beach away, leaving nothing of this night behind.