by Mary Carter
She unlocked Brad’s bottom drawer. For a moment she just stared at the journals. She really wanted to look at them. Just one journal, just one page. If it had been anybody but Brad, she knew she would have. She wasn’t a perfect person, and she would have had a glance. But this was Brad. Her Brad. For him, she would lock all her temptation in a little box. She quickly threw the bag into the drawer and was about to shut it when she saw the envelope. It was wedged between journals. Something made her pull it out. Her name was on it. Bailey. It was Brad’s handwriting. Now what? Was she allowed to snoop into something that was addressed to her? Survey said: yes. She quickly put the envelope in her pocket, then shut and locked the drawer as fast as she could.
There. She didn’t read the journals. But she did have an envelope with her name on it in her pocket. Her heart was hammering as if she’d just done something she shouldn’t have.
“Good doggie,” she heard someone say from below. Bailey froze. It was Angel. Bailey crawled over to the opening and peered below. Angel held something out to Tree, and he immediately snatched it up and took it to the farthest corner of the room. A bone, no doubt. Angel looked around. Bailey had left the top drawer of the dresser slightly opened and Angel noticed it immediately. Bailey watched, shocked, as Angel walked right over to the drawer, opened it, and started pawing through it. Bailey wished she had a camera or her phone to snap a picture of the live evidence. What in the world was she looking for? Had Captain Jack—would she ever get used to calling him Edgar?—noticed his wallet missing and dispersed a team to find it?
Bailey was about to go downstairs and confront Angel when she spotted something shining. It was coming from underneath her locked armoire. She walked over and bent down. It was another one of the playing cards. The sun coming in through the porthole shined on the white edges, making it almost glow. When she stood back up, she was directly in front of the cabinet. A crawling sensation rippled up her spine. My God. This was it. Why hadn’t she realized it before? Bailey quickly turned the combination lock and opened the cabinet. The fourth-order Fresnel lens was still there lovingly restored and shined to a high polish by yours truly. The original. With its brass frame and beehive glass prisms, it was not only a piece of history, it was a work of art. Imagine, someone stuffing this up a chimney!
“Oh my God.” Bailey whipped around. Angel stood behind her, mouth open, arms reaching out as if the beehive lens before her was a long-lost child. “It’s really here,” Angel whispered.
“So this is what you’re after,” Bailey said. Angel looked completely awestruck. Whatever else she was, she wasn’t a poker player. It gave Bailey a new admiration for Olivia’s vacuous expression.
“I didn’t know it would be so beautiful,” Angel said. She was right. The green glass was exquisite.
“They actually used to pour whale oil in here,” Bailey said. But Angel didn’t seem interested in its historical properties.
“It’s been right here? All along?”
“No,” Bailey said. “It was hidden in the chimney.”
“Shit,” Angel said. “Jake was sure it was in the yard.” That explained the large holes everywhere.
“Why?” Bailey said. “Why do you want it so badly?”
“What?” Angel was distracted, still staring at the lens.
“Brad doesn’t even know I found it,” Bailey said. “It’s a surprise. For our one-year anniversary.”
“I thought you guys had been married since you were in diapers?”
“We met when we were ten—married less than nine—I meant the one-year mark since we opened this B-and-B—”
“Wait,” Angel said. “Brad doesn’t know?”
“Thus the meaning of surprise,” Bailey said.
“We’ll split it,” Angel said. “Just you and me.” A horrible image of the gorgeous lens, shattered, rose to Bailey’s mind.
“Split what?”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“I have a lot of ideas.” Pushing you off the tower and treating you to a real near-death experience is one. “Just not sure which one you happen to be referring to right now.”
“An original Fresnel lens. It’s worth at least a quarter of a million,” Angel said. “Maybe more.”
Bailey turned and stared at it again. “Oh my God.”
“It’s our chance to get away!” Angel said. “Nobody has to know.”
“Not so happily married to Jake, I take it,” Bailey said.
“Marriage sucks,” Angel said. “You know yourself.”
“Actually,” Bailey said. “I wouldn’t trade mine for anything in the world. Not even this.” Bailey gestured to the lens.
“Fine,” Angel said. “Then you keep Brad and give the lens to me.”
“You’re insane,” Bailey said. “It belongs to the lighthouse.”
“Now you sound like Trevor,” Angel said.
“He refused to sell the lens too,” Bailey surmised.
“If he would have just gone with the plan. But no. It belongs to the lighthouse. What is with you people?”
“Were he and Edgar lovers?” Bailey asked.
“What?” Angel sounded appalled.
“Obviously there was no Edga Penwell, so he and Trevor—”
Angel slapped her hands over her mouth. “Ewww,” she said.
“That’s very homophobic of you,” Bailey said.
“Not ewww because you suggested they were gay. Ewww because they were brothers. He made the Edga stuff up just to scare you.”
“When did Trevor find the light?”
“A few months before the auction,” Angel said. “It was just lying in the first floor of the tower. Discarded along with seagull carcasses. Trevor did a lot of work restoring it. Labor of love, he called it.”
“I can see why,” Bailey said. “So Trevor knew it belonged to the lighthouse. But Jack—Edgar—just wanted to sell it.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “Who cares about a stupid old lighthouse anyway? They’re history. Useless. Uh, hello, GPS!”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Bailey said. “But some things are worth preserving.”
“And sometimes you have to know when to let go,” Angel said. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out by now.” Angel took a step closer to Bailey. Tree began barking wildly at the base of the stairs.
“It weighs six hundred pounds,” Bailey said. “You can’t just take it.”
“Maybe not now,” Angel said. “But you’re the only one who knows it’s here.”
“How did Trevor die?” Bailey asked. She was trying to stall, and trying to figure out what to do, and trying to figure out exactly how frightened she should be. Were they all just thieves, or murderers too?
“You’ve seen too many movies,” Angel said. “Heart attack. Dropped dead right in here, as a matter of fact,” she said.
“Back up,” Bailey said.
“Or what?” Angel smiled and stood straighter. She didn’t look so angelic now. Footsteps sounded from below. Please let it be Brad, Bailey thought. Please let it be Brad.
“Angel?”
“Up here, Jake,” Angel said. She stared at Bailey. “You had your chance,” she said.
“I was going to say the same thing to you,” Bailey said.
Jake’s head appeared in the opening. “Hey,” he said.
“You two should leave,” Bailey said. “Now.”
“What’s going on?” Jake said. He pulled himself up with ease. Angel pointed to the cabinet.
“Look,” she said.
“Holy shit,” Jake said. He reached out as if to touch it. Bailey threw her arm up and blocked him. Probably not very smart, initiating physical contact so soon, but she hated the thought of him touching it.
“I’d like you two to leave now,” Bailey said. To her surprise, Jake nodded. He reached for Angel’s hand. She didn’t take it.
“That’s it?” Angel said. “A year of our lives hanging around this concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb and you’re just
going to give up?”
Now I can tell they’re married, Bailey thought as she listened to Angel screech at Jake. “Concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb?” Bailey said.
Jake gave a soft smile. “That’s her nickname for the lighthouse,” he explained. “It’s very damp here.”
“I see,” Bailey said.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Jake said. “She has the lens, it’s over.”
“But Brad doesn’t know about the lens yet,” Angel said. “She was saving it for a surprise.” From below, Tree let out a series of little barks. Bailey wished he would just get over his fear and climb up the ladder already. She’d seen a television show once, Dogs with Jobs. They could climb ladders.
“I still don’t know what you want me to do,” Jake said.
“Make her give it to us,” Angel said. “It’s family property. Your family, not hers.”
“This lighthouse isn’t owned by individuals,” Bailey interjected. “You should know—you’re on the ‘committee.’ ” Bailey had to admit, it felt good to use air quotes and let just a little of her sarcasm fly.
“And didn’t that piss you off?” Angel said. “Your husband took your money—”
“I thought it was his money,” Jake said.
“They’re married,” Angel said. “It’s their money. How many freaking times do I have to explain that to you?” Jake shrugged. “As I was saying,” Angel said loudly, “he took your communal money, blew it on this concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb, and then turned it over to some stupid committee! What a winner you have in that one!”
Bailey was no longer afraid of Angel, no matter what she intended on doing. She walked right up to her and put her index finger in the middle of her chest, where she had to admit, she poked her just a little bit, and it felt good.
“Don’t you ever, ever talk about my husband like that again. Do you hear me?” Bailey turned away so she wouldn’t wrap her hands around Angel’s little neck. She pointed to the windows looking out over the river. “This is living history!” Bailey said. “It’s the dawning of America. It’s Indians naming the river. It’s Henry Hudson exploring. It’s George Washington, and the Civil War, and the Declaration of Independence, and the Erie Canal, and steamboats, and railroads, and Morse code—”
Bailey could feel herself getting worked up, almost feverish. But it was true. She understood what Brad had been trying to explain to her for the past year. This was a magical place. They were lucky to be its keepers. Jake at least seemed to be listening, so Bailey kept talking. “Lighthouses saved lives. Now I know your near-death experience was all a big hoax, but you know what? I feel sorry for you. Because ‘seeing the light’ is what allowed my husband to grasp what you seem to be incapable of grasping. There are some things in this life, this short, amazing little life, that matter. Who we are and where we come from is one of them. And this lighthouse is a symbol of that. And that lens isn’t your lottery ticket, it’s a treasure that belongs right here where people can appreciate it as long as humanly possible.”
Bailey heard clapping. Startled, she looked up. Brad was standing there, grinning. Thomas stood beside him, following Brad’s every move. She’d been so wrapped up in what she was saying, she didn’t even hear them coming up the steps. Wow. She was a tad disappointed. For a second she’d thought this was going to end a little more dramatically, i.e., Jake and Angel wrestling her out on the deck, trying to push her off the tower. Bailey ran to the cabinet and opened the doors so that he could see the lens. “Surprise,” she said. Brad stepped forward. Bailey beamed as if she’d given birth to the light herself. The look on his face was all the thanks she needed.
“Holy mama,” Brad said.
Bailey laughed. “Holy concrete-sponge-pad-lightbulb,” she said.
“Hey,” Angel said. “That’s my line.”
“Finders, keepers,” Bailey said. She moved out of the way to let Brad have a closer look at the glowing prisms of green light, the piece of history that was sure to draw visitors from all over the world. As she stepped out of the way, she came in contact with Angel’s foot. She couldn’t be sure that Angel tripped her on purpose, but the next thing Bailey knew, she was flying forward. She fell right in front of the gate to the deck. Her chin bumped Brad’s little desk as she went down.
What happened next was nothing anyone could have predicted. Jake stepped forward, and Bailey would always presume it was to help her up. But Thomas didn’t see it that way. Afraid that his aunt was in trouble, he grabbed the nearest object he could get his hands on, which just so happened to be Aunt Olivia’s urn. Bailey looked up, saw Jake bending over her, saw Thomas behind him, urn coiled back, ready to strike.
“No!” Bailey shouted. She lunged up, and Thomas, unsure and off balance, froze with the urn held just below his chin. The top of Bailey’s head smacked the bottom of the urn. She immediately felt dizzy, and everything around her blurred into little dots. She cried out and fell back to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Brad shouted. “You could have killed her.”
Bailey wanted to admonish Brad, tell him not to be so hard on Thomas, but she couldn’t talk quite yet. She could hear Thomas put down the urn and begin to speak rapidly, apologizing, explaining, and Bailey wanted to tell him it would be all right. She tried to put her thumb up for “thumbs up!” but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.
“What have I done?” she heard Thomas yell. He was in a panic, and the next thing she knew, he ran past the little group huddled around Bailey and climbed out to the deck. Bailey’s vision returned in time for her to see Thomas climb onto the railing, below which was a sixty-foot drop.
“Thomas,” Bailey said. She tried to move but it hurt. “Help,” she said to Brad. Brad ran out to the deck, and Bailey could only watch and listen.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas shouted.
“It’s okay,” Brad said. “Really. Buddy. She’s okay.” Bailey could hear the fear in Brad’s voice.
“I’m not your buddy,” Thomas said. “You hate me.”
Bailey felt sick. She lifted her head. “Thomas,” she called out. “Come down. I love you.”
“I don’t hate you, Thomas. Far from it,” Brad said.
“I heard what you said. You told Aunt Bailey you didn’t want me here.”
“Oh God,” Bailey said. She grabbed onto the desk and hauled herself up. Jake and Angel were gone.
“Thomas,” Bailey said, managing to stand at the entrance to the deck. “He said that because . . .” She looked at Brad for help.
“Because you remind me of my son,” Brad said.
Chapter 36
“What?” Bailey thought she said. But no words came out. Besides, Brad wasn’t even looking at her, he was still trying to talk to Thomas. “I had him when I was seventeen,” Brad said. “Close to the age you are now.” Bailey slid back down the wall. She wanted to continue helping Thomas, but her legs would no longer support her. “Having you around—it’s been hard,” Brad said. “Because I’ve been carrying this secret so long. And you make me wonder what my son is like.”
“You hope he’s nothing like me, right?” Thomas said.
“The opposite,” Brad said. “I’d be proud if he was like you.”
“So would I,” Bailey said. “Please, Thomas. You’re scaring me. Come down.” She found her legs again. She would be fine as long as she didn’t look at Brad. Not for a single second. Brad held out his hand to help Thomas down. Finally, with a brief nod, he took it. Only when they were safely inside the Crow’s Nest did Bailey let out her breath. She wrapped her arms around Thomas. “I love you,” she said. “Please. Don’t ever do anything like that again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t.” Bailey was going to have to call Meg, and they were going to have to get Thomas help. But for now, he was safe. Bailey took a step toward the stairs and another wave of dizziness came over her. Brad’s arms were around her in an instant, and she needed him too much to protest.
“Let�
�s get you to the bed,” Brad said. “Then I’m calling for an ambulance.” Funny, Bailey always got a kick out of seeing the ambulance boat race by.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need it.” As they came down one set of spiral stairs, Elizabeth came barreling up the other.
“What is going on?” she said. “Jake, Angel, and Captain Jack took off like there was a fire! They left without me!”
“Want me to go after them?” Thomas said.
“No!” Bailey and Brad yelled together.
“They’re running from justice,” Bailey said.
“What?” Brad said. As he laid her down on the bed, Bailey filled him in as best she could. She wondered if he was relieved his mother hadn’t really been drunk, but she couldn’t focus on his face. She got so wrapped up in the story, for a few seconds she forgot all about his devastating declaration just moments earlier. But she wasn’t going to say anything in front of Elizabeth and Thomas. Nor was it wise to get into it with what was turning out to be a splitting headache.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t call the doctor?” Brad said.
“Just give me aspirin and let me sleep,” Bailey said.
“That’s not a good idea,” Thomas said. “She could have a concussion.”
“You’re right,” Brad said. “See? I’m glad you’re here. Stay with her and keep her awake while I call the Coast Guard,” Brad said. Brad patted Thomas on the back, and taking his mother with him, he ran out of the room. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and took Bailey’s hand. Bailey let him do all the talking, which wasn’t easy, for what she suddenly wanted more than anything was just a little bit of sleep.
They didn’t talk about it for three days. First, even though she didn’t have a concussion, Bailey was on pretty strong painkillers and she needed her rest. Second, they had to wait for the report to be filed against Edgar, Jake, and Angel, who seemed to be long gone. The ferry was abandoned on the other side of the river, and Island Supplies was closed and locked. Then they had to wait for Meg to arrive to pick up Thomas and for Elizabeth to say her good-byes. Bailey wished she and Brad were on better terms because it tugged at her heart strings to see him hug his mother good-bye. Elizabeth had really come through for them, and it did seem as if she had changed. Life really did seem to offer second chances. Bailey listened as Brad and Elizabeth bantered back and forth about future visits. Is that the way life would unfold? Brad would finally have his mother back in his life but would lose his wife? Soon, the house had emptied out, and although it was a relief not to have to take care of anyone else, Bailey didn’t look forward to being alone with Brad now that this thing hung between them.
