Molly thought that seeing Jessica would be too hard on him. But in a certain way, it made no difference at all, he reflected. Jessica might as well be sitting right beside him at that very moment. He was always that conscious of her. Her image was always in his mind—in his aching heart. He could almost smell her perfume. He couldn’t help it though, God knew, he tried.
He thought about the night they moved the piano, when she went back with him to his apartment. They had been so close that night. He hadn’t even seen it at the time, but looking back, he could see that they had just about turned a corner that night, gotten it all settled and right between them.
And then soon after that, somehow, they began to lose the thread. They lost it completely by her birthday, when she refused to take the sailboat. He had been very good about that, he reflected wryly, very understanding. He jumped in the boat and left her standing there on the dock, shouting after him. Then he didn’t call her for almost two weeks.
I sure showed her, Sam silently lamented.
He almost couldn’t blame her for going on a date with that guy from Boston. He had been so blown away, he couldn’t see straight when Molly told him the news.
So now Jessica was moving back to the city. He had heard that tomorrow was the big day. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and shifted in his chair. He missed her so much, he could hardly stand it sometimes. He could just manage to keep himself from jumping in his truck and driving to her house, standing at her door until she let him in.
But obviously, Jessica didn’t feel the same way. He would have heard from her by now if she cared at all—at least a note telling him she was going. Good-bye and good luck. Anything at all. She would have done . . . something. Wouldn’t she?
Suddenly everyone around him started clapping hard, and Sam nearly jumped in his chair. He joined in the applause, realizing that Lauren had finished her piece and he had barely heard a note of it.
Later he walked with Digger out to the harbor, neither of them saying much. Digger knew all about Sam’s trouble with Jessica, but he was never one to offer unsolicited advice. That was one of the reasons Sam valued the old man’s friendship so much.
“She’s moving tomorrow,” Sam said as they sat on the edge of the dock, their legs dangling over the water.
“I heard that myself,” Digger admitted, filling his pipe.
“I don’t know what to do,” Sam said honestly. “She’s never tried to call me or see me. She could have written me a note or something, don’t you think?”
“Well, you got until tomorrow to do something. There’s still time. You know what they say in the ball game—it ain’t over till it’s over.”
“If this is a ball game, Digger, it’s the bottom of the ninth, two outs, no men on base, and a blind man coming up to bat.”
Digger took a long thoughtful draw as he lit up. “Sounds like the Red Sox are playing . . . but don’t tell Harry I said that.”
Sam had to laugh, despite his aching heart. “I just can’t do anything about it,” he admitted. “It’s over. Jessica is going back to Boston, just as she always said she would. I don’t know what else I can do.”
Digger glanced at him, then stared out at the water and sky. “If you’ve done all that you can, and you feel settled in your heart, then that’s it. You have to let it go. Maybe her leaving tomorrow will be a help to you. Maybe then you’ll be ready to give it up to God, son.”
Sam didn’t reply. Had he done all he could? His heart didn’t feel anywhere close to settled. His faith had yielded some comfort, of course, and so had his talks with Reverend Ben.
But this was a bad one. Worse than anything he had ever gone through. His acute pain only seemed to be more evidence that Jessica was the one, after all.
If not, how could he love her so much—or feel this bad?
“Looks like some heavy weather moving in,” Digger observed. “You ought to go out and check your house. You wouldn’t want that new roof flying off or anything.”
“I heard it will be light rain. Nobody’s mentioned a storm or anything about high winds.”
Digger shrugged and relit his pipe. “It’s that radar tracking. It always confuses them. I’m looking straight out at the weather, and I’m telling you, a storm front is moving in,” he insisted. “A big one. Should be raging out there by this time tomorrow. Harry believes me,” he added. “We pulled a lot of boats out of the water today.”
Sam looked out at the twilight sky. It was a balmy night, the air heavy and moist. A low bank of clouds clung to the horizon. It felt like it might rain later—but more like a shower to break the humidity than the kind of storm Digger was predicting. The air was so calm, there was hardly a sailboat to be found out on the water.
But if Digger said it was going to rain, he’d better take heed. He couldn’t go out to the house tonight, but maybe very early tomorrow morning, before it got too heavy.
It would be better to get out of the village while Jessica was moving, anyway. Sam didn’t want to do anything rash or foolish. Or totally humiliating.
JESSICA WAS PACKING UP THE LAST OF HER BELONGINGS when she heard a sharp knock on the door. She was expecting Emily, stopping over for a last-minute good-bye.
She pulled open the door to find Molly with her two daughters. The girls looked up at Jessica expectantly.
“We came to get the cat,” Molly said, not sounding totally pleased about the prospect. “Did you get our message?”
“Oh, yes . . . of course.” They had left a message, a day or so ago, but Jessica had been so busy, it totally slipped her mind.
“Come on in. I have two left. Let me show them to you and you can choose.”
She shook the food box, and the two remaining kittens scrambled into the kitchen. Lauren and Jill practically melted at the sight of them. Each girl picked up one and cradled it gently in her arms. Then they both turned to look imploringly at their mother.
Molly rolled her eyes and shot Jessica a humorous glance. “I knew I was going to get paid back for being mean to you,” she admitted. “Looks like I’ll have to take both of these cats, when I didn’t even want one.”
Jessica found it hard to resist laughing. She didn’t feel any rancor toward Molly anymore, she realized. In fact, she had to admire her spunk and her spirit. Maybe given some time, they would have gotten along.
“I’m sorry for yelling at your mother, too,” Molly admitted in the same feisty tone. “I’m hardly ever that nasty to defenseless old ladies.”
“Don’t worry, my mother is hardly defenseless,” Jessica replied with a sly smile. “I’m sure she deserved it.”
Jessica had a sudden impulse to ask Molly about Sam. Maybe she could just ask her to tell Sam she said good-bye. But as the girls hugged their cats and thanked her, Jessica lost her nerve.
“Good-bye,” Molly said curtly. “I wish you well.”
They left and the apartment suddenly seemed very quiet and empty, with boxes piled everywhere and most of her furniture given away to either Emily or Suzanne. Jessica felt exhausted and was glad of it.
She fell asleep almost instantly, a blessed one-night reprieve from thinking about Sam.
Jessica woke to rain but was not surprised. The weather reports from Cape Light down to Boston had all predicted it. She had moved before in the rain. It made things messier and slower and even more frustrating, but movers kept moving. They didn’t stop for a few raindrops.
But by mid-morning the winds picked up, and the skies grew darker. The movers were almost an hour late, and Jessica called the main office. The dispatcher assured her that the truck was on its way, just caught in slow traffic on the turnpike, due to the bad weather. “Sit tight. They’ll be there soon,” he promised.
But as the next hour passed, the winds became fierce. Jessica saw treetops bent backward and her garden flattened nearly to the ground. The rain fell steadily in windblown sheets, and distant rumbles of lightning and thunder broke the heavy silence all around her.
Although the lights came back on a few minutes later, she didn’t bother calling back. What was the sense? She’d check in with them after the storm and see how things stood.
Meanwhile, she had been thinking about Sam every minute since she opened her eyes. Why hadn’t she forced herself to go to see him? She had asked herself that all morning, thinking that if she only had the chance, she would just do it.
Well, here was the chance, she realized. The unforeseen delay felt to her like a sign that she had to follow through and see him one last time. It wasn’t going to be easy, she thought, glancing outside, but she would manage. She hoped she would find him in the village—at his shop or at his apartment.
But she would find him, no matter what. Totally determined now, she opened a box and dug through it until she found her high rubber boots. She pulled them on along with her yellow slicker.
Just as she was about to leave, the lights flashed again. This time they went dead with an ominous sound. Jessica waited a moment, but the power didn’t return. It was out for a while, she surmised. She suddenly thought about her mother. She ought to call her and make sure she was all right, but her phone required electricity and so did her mother’s. It would be best to just drive out there right away, she thought.
Okay, she had a plan. First she would check on her mother, then she would find Sam. No matter what, she would see him before she left, she promised herself.
It was much worse outside than Jessica had expected. Not only were the streets flooded, but fallen branches and downed power lines made the driving even slower. Carefully she steered through the narrow neighborhood lanes, which ran with water like miniature rivers.
It seemed like an hour later when she pulled into her mother’s driveway. Through the rainswept windshield she recognized Emily’s car and felt a sense of relief. It seemed they had both had the same idea.
Emily met her at the door, equally relieved to see her. “I tried calling your house, but I didn’t get an answer. Then I realized without the power, your phone was off, too.”
“I’m glad you’ve come. You’re both good girls,” their mother said, looking from one daughter to another. She looked shaken and unsettled by the storm, Jessica thought. Not her usual self at all.
“Let’s go into town,” Emily suggested. “I need to be near my office, and you shouldn’t stay out here alone with Mother. Besides, my Jeep can handle the water on the roads, and I hate to think of you driving anywhere today in that little car of yours.”
“Emily is right,” Lillian agreed. “Let’s go into town. Who knows when the power will come back on? I don’t like being stuck out here like this.”
“All right, Mother. I’ll get your raincoat and hat,” Jessica said, going off to the hall closet. She wanted to go to the village anyway, to look for Sam.
Emily and Jessica helped Lillian into Emily’s Jeep Cherokee and then set off for the village.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a sensible idea after all,” their mother said from the backseat after they had driven only a block. “We should turn back.”
“Don’t worry. I have my cell phone with me. If we get stuck, someone will come get us,” Emily promised When they finally turned onto Main Street, the village looked like a windswept ghost town. The street was flooded with water on either side of the median, rushing downhill to the harbor like twin, wild rivers. Shops and restaurants were closed, torn awnings and broken signs flapping in the wind. A few storefront windows had already been boarded over, where a flying branch or other debris had crashed through.
“Heavens, I’ve never seen anything like this,” Jessica said, gazing around.
“I have,” Lillian told them. “But that was years ago. You were just a baby,” she said to Emily. “And you weren’t even born yet,” she added to Jessica with uncharacteristic nostalgia. “That was a storm. It took the town a month to clean up.”
“Looks to me like a month’s worth of damage already,” Emily observed grimly as she headed for the Village Hall. “And it isn’t over yet.”
“I can’t believe it,” Jessica said. “It looks like the Clam Box is open. Aren’t those lights in the windows?”
“It’s candlelight,” Emily replied. She slowed down and tried to park as best as she could. “Let’s go in. It looks like the only sign of life around.”
Inside the Clam Box it appeared that a strange kind of party was going on. Everyone in town seemed to be there, even Felicity and Jonathan Bean. Lucy and Charlie had put small glass candleholders on each table and lined the counter with them as well.
Charlie had a few large battery-powered camping lanterns hanging over the grill and was cooking what he could. Lucy and Sara each walked around with a flashlight to help them serve.
As she and Emily carefully led their mother to a nearby table, Jessica glanced around for Sam. She didn’t see him and felt a keen stab of disappointment. She hadn’t seen his truck parked by Grace’s shop, either, when she drove by earlier. Had he left town for some reason? She glanced around the diner again. Digger Hegman might know. While Emily settled Lillian and talked to Sara about what there was to eat, Jessica slipped away to talk to Digger about Sam.
Digger smiled, seeming happy to see her again.
“Do you know where Sam is?” she asked him.
“I think he went out to his house on the pond early this morning, before the rain got too heavy. But he must have come back to the village by now. Or else maybe he’s stuck out there with the low roads washed out.”
Jessica considered this. Yes, the low roads by the pond would be filled with water, unpassable by now in this storm. Without giving it a second thought, she sent up a silent prayer for Sam’s safety, frightened to think he might be out driving in this weather.
Carefully watching her expression, Digger said, “Don’t worry. Sam’s okay. He’s smart enough to stay off the road in a storm like this.”
“Thanks, Digger,” Jessica said, hoping that was true. She returned to her sister and mother, where the waitress asked her what she wanted. Jessica suddenly wasn’t hungry at all; she ordered only a cup of hot tea. Her gaze remained on the door, hoping Sam’s familiar face would be the next to enter.
Then Emily’s cell phone sounded in her purse, and she took it out to answer it. Jessica saw her sister’s face grow pale with worry, and she knew there was bad news. “When?” Emily asked, then, “Yes, I understand.”
She shut off the phone and covered Jessica’s hand with her own. “The police found Sam’s truck crashed into a tree here in town. They’ve called an ambulance. Sam’s been hurt, but they don’t know how badly.”
Jessica breathed in sharply and pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. “No . . . it can’t be. Maybe it was someone else,” she said, wide-eyed with shock. “It could be a truck that looks just like Sam’s.”
“There was no mistake, dear,” Emily said softly. She put her arm around Jessica’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She met Jessica’s gaze. “Let’s pray for him, okay?”
Jessica nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, sending up a heartfelt prayer for Sam’s survival. When she opened her eyes again, she stood up. “I have to go to him. Can I take your truck?” she asked Emily.
“Of course you can.” She pulled out the keys and gave them to her sister. “Take this phone, too. But please be careful. Drive very slowly,” she urged her in a worried tone.
“Jessica, you can’t be serious!” Lillian said. “Emily, she can’t go out driving around in this weather. That’s just—insane. Do you want to have a car crash, too?” she asked Jessica.
Jessica glanced at her mother then back at Emily. “Where are they taking him?”
“Newburyport. That’s the closest hospital with a head trauma unit.”
Head trauma?
Oh, dear God . . . Jessica felt the room spin for a moment and gripped the edge of the chair. Emily grabbed her hand.
“Mother’s right, you can’t go by yourself—and I can’t leave town right now,” she added, looking torn.
“I can take her there.” The women turned to see Reverend Ben standing beside Jessica. He put his hand on her shoulder in a steadying, reassuring gesture.
Jessica didn’t know what to say. She was so grateful she couldn’t find the words.
“Thank you, Reverend. I can’t thank you enough,” Emily said.
“Don’t mention it. I was just sitting over there at the counter, and I couldn’t help but overhear. I do hope Sam will be all right,” he said, looking at Jessica again.
She just nodded. With Reverend Ben stepping in, she noticed that her mother did not dare to object.
Jessica gave Emily a quick hug, then she and the Reverend left. It was slow going at first—it took a maddeningly long time just to get out of town—but finally they reached the higher road that led to Newburyport, and the reverend was able to drive at a reasonable but careful pace.
He didn’t say much, concentrating on the road. Besides, they both knew there wasn’t much to say.
Jessica prayed the entire drive. She knew you couldn’t make a deal with God, but if you could, she would give up ever seeing Sam again, if only he would be okay.
Is this what it means to have faith? she wondered. She had been trying very earnestly these past weeks to pray and read the Bible. Maybe she did it all wrong. Maybe it just wasn’t enough.
She squeezed her eyes shut and again tried to pray for Sam’s safety. But she felt a sudden emptiness, as if she had just stepped off a cliff.
Are you there, God? I’m sorry . . . I’m not sure if I believe. I want to. I need to. Everything just seems so hopeless right now, she silently confessed. She felt tears slipping down her cheeks but didn’t bother to push them away. I love Sam. Please don’t let him die, she prayed. Please help us. . . .
Cape Light Page 35
