The Color of Light

by White, Karen

  “Of course I don’t mind. It was very thoughtful of you and I appreciate it, and I know her parents will, too.” He stepped past her, inside the door, and she closed it with her hip.

  His eyebrows raised. “They found her parents?”

  Jillian nodded, leading the way into the kitchen. “Yes—Mason did. They’ve been in California all this time. I guess they felt they needed to move as far away from here as they could. I don’t blame them—losing a child must be a horrible thing.”

  “Yes, it would be.”

  Jillian placed the flowers on the counter and turned to face Rick. “I suspect you didn’t come here just to say good-bye to the children.”

  “You’re right—I didn’t.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked across the kitchen to stare out the large picture window.

  “Would you like some homemade fudge? I made it last night.”

  He faced her, a small grin on his face. “No, you don’t need to feed me—but thank you.” He patted his stomach. “I’m trying to lose a few. Joanie’s tracking my cholesterol. . . .” He trailed off, as if realizing he’d used a dirty word in the presence of children.

  No large hammer slammed into her chest, and Jillian smiled. “I’m glad she’s taking care of you. It’s about time somebody did, huh?”

  He didn’t answer, but turned to look out the window again. “I’d like to say you’ve changed, Jillian, but you haven’t.”

  Her heart sank a little, but she continued to watch him, being careful not to let her emotions show.

  Rick continued. “I think you’ve always been this wonderful strong person. You just needed to be out from under the wings of your parents—and me—to find your own strength.” He faced her and smiled. “It’s amazing, really, how much my leaving has done for you. I’d almost say you owed me a thank-you.”

  “Not quite,” she said, finding a smile. She moved closer to him, wondering where all his newfound wisdom had come from. Maybe it had been there all along and she had only now started to listen. She looked into the eyes that had once held such love for her, a love that had made her ashamed of her inability to return it. A feeling of gratitude washed over her—gratitude for this man who had once loved her and taken care of her and made it better—for a while. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “But thanks for saying all that other stuff.”

  “You’re welcome.” His face was serious again. “I’ve been thinking about our custody arrangement.”

  She tried to remember to breathe evenly as she waited for him to speak again.

  “I’m going to contact my lawyer and see if we can’t make some adjustments. I want liberal visitation rights, and for them to spend alternating holidays with us. But I think they should live here with you. If that’s all right with you, that is.”

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Of course that’s what I want—more than you could ever know.”

  They heard the sound of a door upstairs being flung open, and then the sound of Grace’s feet, clad in patent-leather Mary Janes, clopping down the stairs. And then she was in the kitchen, throwing herself at her father. “Daddy! I’m going to Lauren’s funeral. Are you coming, too?”

  Their eyes met over Grace’s head. “Grace knows about Lauren, and she wanted to go. She knows she’ll have to be quiet and behave. Ford is too little, so Lessie is watching him and will bring him by after the service. I’m sure she won’t mind if you stop by to say good-bye.”

  Grace looked solemnly up at her father. “Mommy bought me a new dress and new shoes to wear to the funeral.”

  Rick nodded as he straightened, lifting Gracie in his arms. “I can see that, Pumpkin, and you look very pretty.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now, you and I need to say good-bye. I’ve had a lot of fun with you this week, and I’m going to work it out with your mommy so that we can see each other again real soon, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Will I get to meet Joanie the sl—”

  “Yes, Gracie, you’ll get to meet Daddy’s new wife, Joanie,” Jillian interrupted, her smile apologetic. “Now give Daddy a kiss and a hug good-bye. The chief and Mrs. Weber will be here any minute to take us to the funeral.”

  They said their good-byes, then Jillian sat out on the front porch with a sniffling Gracie while they waited for the Webers’ car.

  Jillian sat in the backseat with Rick’s flowers and Gracie on the short drive to the old cemetery and chapel at All Saints. Martha met her reflection in the rearview mirror. “I’m assuming your parents won’t be at the funeral.”

  “No, they won’t. They’re on their way back to Atlanta right now.”

  Martha raised an eyebrow in question.

  “They stopped by this morning, hoping to come to some sort of truce.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  Grace reached for her hand and held it. “I asked them to leave. That maybe one day I’d contact them again, but for now they have no place in my life.” She smiled at Martha. “I’ve learned a lot these past few months. I’d always thought there was something wrong with me because my parents couldn’t find anything to love. I can almost understand now how my mother must have resented me, but that’s really no excuse.” She looked out the window, seeing the tall palmetto trees rush by. “I think motherhood has very little to do with biology—except for maybe the color of your eyes or the shape of your hands. All it takes to be a mother is a little effort and a lot of love.”

  “And to show up,” Martha added, her eyes bright.

  “Yeah, that, too.”

  Gracie held up their hands, Jillian’s grandmother’s gold ring reflecting the sun. “Look, Mommy, we have the same hands.”

  Jillian leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “We sure do. Just like my grandmother’s.”

  When they arrived at the church, Martha and Joe were pulled away for a few moments by an older couple Jillian didn’t recognize. Grace tugged at her skirt, demanding Jillian’s undivided attention.

  “Are we going to say good-bye to Lauren now, Mommy?”

  “Yes, sweetie, we are.”

  “But I’ve already said good-bye to her.”

  Jillian stopped, still holding Grace’s hand. “You have?”

  Gracie stared up at her mother with sad brown eyes. “She said she was going away and that she wouldn’t be able to talk to me anymore.”

  Jillian put her arm around the small shoulders and squeezed. “Did she say why she had to go away?”

  Gracie nodded. “She said you didn’t need her anymore—that you had me and Ford.” She grinned mischievously. “And Linc.”

  Jillian felt herself blush. “I see. Did she say anything else?”

  “She said she would always be your very best friend, no matter what. And you don’t ever have to feel you’re all alone, that she’ll watch out for you.” Then Gracie held out her hand to her mother, the pinky crooked. “Pinky swear.”

  Jillian felt the tears on her face as she knelt in front of her daughter and hooked her pinky with Grace’s. “Pinky swear,” she said.

  Grace reached out a hand and brushed her mother’s tears away and smiled brightly. Then Jillian stood and led her daughter toward the chapel to say a long good-bye to a best friend who had once promised to watch over her always.

  Jillian stumbled off the boardwalk in the dark, almost dropping the telescope and stubbing her toe. “Damn!” Guiltily, she glanced around for Gracie, then remembered that she was spending the night at Mary Ellen’s.

  She looked back at the two houses, at their identical shrugs outlined by the moonlight, and smiled. They had weathered another storm yet still sat on their perches behind the lovely dunes, standing sentinel over shifting tides and troubled lives. They persevered, their weathered facades growing more beautiful with each passing storm, with each passing year. Jillian drew a breath, feeling almost as resilient as the houses.

  Only the moon and stars lit her way down to the packed sand below, where the ocean waite
d at low tide. She set up her telescope, then scanned her corner of the sky with her binoculars, checking off each memorized star. Nekkar, Seginus, Izar, Acturus. She made a second pass with the binoculars, moving from one section to the next, staring at the black spaces between the stars and looking for a spark of light that hadn’t been there before. She never felt disappointment while doing this, only the hope that the possibility still existed. But tonight, with a free heart and a clear sky, she had expected something more.

  She made a third pass of the final section and was about to give up for the night when she spotted something, a small pinprick of light hovering far out in the galaxy, a bright spot in an ocean of darkness. Memorizing its position, she slowly lowered her binoculars and moved to her telescope. It took her a minute to find it, and for a brief second she thought she’d made a mistake. But when she locked in on it, she knew she’d been right. After all these years, she had finally found her new star.

  Feeling weak-kneed, she dropped to the sand and wrapped her arms around her legs. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but found she could do neither. All she could feel was a longing to share her discovery with someone who would understand how much it meant to her.

  She felt him before she turned her head to see Linc walking down the beach toward her. His pants were rolled up at the ankles, and he carried his shoes in his hand. He dropped them, then sat next to her, their knees touching.

  “I thought you were in Charleston.” She felt suddenly shy with him, bursting with contained emotions but unsure how to share them.

  “I was. I wanted to be as far away from Lauren’s funeral as possible.”

  Jillian rested her head on his shoulder. “You would have been welcomed there. Mrs. Mills said she wanted to offer you an apology in person.”

  “Yeah, well. I didn’t want my presence to detract from everybody saying their good-byes to Lauren.”

  “She’s gone now, you know. I think she’s finally resting in peace.”

  He looked at her in the moonlight, his eyes soft. “I haven’t felt her since the day we found Ford.” He flexed his fingers, and she noticed he wore a splint on the middle one. “I’m glad. She deserves peace after all this time.”

  They stared out at the ocean, listening to the suck and pull of the surf, feeling the power of the moon sliding the huge ocean across the earth. Linc lay back in the sand and Jillian followed, their heads touching like they’d done a thousand times before in a time that seemed a thousand years ago.

  Linc reached for her hand and held it. “What’s going to happen to Miss Janie?”

  “Her lawyer is confident she won’t be facing any jail time. Right now she’s receiving a psychiatric evaluation to see if she’s competent. Either way, when all this is over, I’m going to have her move in with me.”

  “Won’t it be a little crowded?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I figured I’d put the children in the same room and give Gracie’s to Janie. And I’ll be starting a garden for her. Her flowers will flourish wherever they’re planted.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “As much as I’m sure Janie would like being near you and the children, I have a feeling she enjoys her own space. Maybe it would be best to move her into the house next door.”

  Jillian got up on one elbow. “I could never afford it at market price, and you know it. Besides, where would you live?”

  He looked up at her with a lopsided grin. “With you.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “Linc, I couldn’t—not with the children. It wouldn’t . . . it wouldn’t be a good example.”

  He laughed and reached up to her, pulling her down on top of him. “I was suggesting we do it legally.”

  She put her hands in the sand on either side of his face and looked down at him, forcing the thoughts in her head to override the stirrings in her heart. “Is this really where you want to be? I never thought you saw yourself living here on any permanent basis.”

  “I didn’t. Until now. I bought these houses as a sort of revenge—a way to show people that I wasn’t an outsider anymore. But I think I was the only one who ever felt that way. I put up barriers where none had really existed.” He reached up to pull the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears. “And now I’m getting all sorts of interesting offers from the most unlikely people. Mason Weber’s on the historical preservation committee, and he said they’re looking for a new president. They thought somebody with my architectural background would be an asset to the community. I thought it might be nice to be considered an asset.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I guess it would.” Her smile faded as she felt his heat underneath her, and she moved her face closer to his. “I love you, Linc, and if you want to stay here and make our relationship legal, then I’m all for it. But only if you’re sure that’s what you really want.”

  He kissed her slowly, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and tasting her fully. When he pulled away, his eyes were serious. “I’m more sure of this than anything in my life. It’s like everything I’ve ever worked for has led me right here, with you. Like my life has just been one big circle. Maybe that’s the way it was supposed to be, and all I ever really needed to do was follow the stars home.”

  She moved off of him, and they both sat up. She leaned toward him. “I found my star today.”

  He smiled, and her heart flipped. “Congratulations. What are you going to call it?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking of Mercury—so then I’d have a Ford, Lincoln and Mercury in my life.”

  He elbowed her in the arm. “Very funny. You wouldn’t dare.”

  She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Actually, I was thinking of naming it Annabelle Janie Grace—after the three most important women in my life.”

  He kissed her on her temple and spoke softly in her ear. “That sounds like a really good idea. But won’t Ford feel left out?”

  She touched his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw. “I’m saving his name for the next star I find. I can’t imagine not searching for one. I guess it’s become a habit to always be looking for light in my life.”

  She lifted her head, and he looked in her eyes. “So are you going to marry me or not?”

  She smiled into his eyes. “Yes, Linc, I’ll marry you.”

  He kissed her soundly on the lips, then helped her stand. They stood with their arms around each other, looking out at the moon marking its signature across the dark waves and hearing the quiet slap of water against sand. Linc took a deep breath. “Come on—we can watch the stars from inside, too.”

  Linc helped her pack up the telescope, and then they began to move up the dunes toward the two old houses that had always linked their lives together. They paused on the boardwalk and stared up at the endless expanse of the night sky, at the river of stars that flowed over the earth’s ceiling, bringing light to the ocean and the marsh, and into lives that harbored hope through the darkest night.

  She reached for Linc, and he took her hand as they turned together to walk over the sandy grass before stepping into the circle of light that flooded the porch of the old house. They went inside, closing the door on the night, and the dunes were once again left to the guiding light of the moon and stars.

  A CONVERSATION WITH KAREN WHITE

  Q. What inspired you to write The Color of Light? Is Lauren’s disappearance based on true events?

  A. The Color of Light is not inspired by any factual events (which is probably a good thing). I’m a huge fan of plot twists, and the idea of Lauren’s disappearance stemmed from that. I also love stories where the villain isn’t always a villain—that there’s something redeemable or understandable about the villain’s actions. It’s so much closer to real life, and more identifiable to readers.

  Q. Are you a full-time mom, or do you work outside of the home? How do you balance these responsibilities with your writing life?

  A. I am a full-time mom to two children. I’m very blessed to be able to
pursue my career as a writer while staying at home to raise my children. This doesn’t make it easy, however! I have to be very, very organized. Unfortunately, there’s always a deficit of time and I find that my sleep is the first thing to be sacrificed when I’m working on a novel. It’s a constant juggling act and when it gets too rough, I take a nap. I’m a huge believer in naps.

  Q. Your characters evoke a great empathy, even though they are flawed. Jillian, Gracie, Linc and Janie are all very human. Who or what inspires these characters? Do you identify with any of them?

  A. I enjoy reading books about believable characters. Believable characters, to me, are simply those who are not perfect—like real people. I like to see people grow and change, which means that at the beginning of the book, my characters have to have an impossibly high mountain in front of them. But I also give them something in their character to find the tools necessary to climb that mountain and move on. With Jillian, it’s her boundless hope. With Linc, it’s his need for justice. It’s what made me love both characters and root for them.

  These characters are strictly from my imagination—or maybe they’re a collage of people in my life. I’m not sure because I never know where my characters come from. I imagine it’s inevitable that an author will draw on his or her own experiences to create characters. As for identifying with any of my characters from The Color of Light, I’d probably say Jillian. She uses self-deprecating humor to smooth over the rough spots in her life, which is something I know that I do as well. That’s where the resemblance ends, however, since I have a well-known aversion to cooking.

  Q. Jillian and Linc share a very painful past, which, at times, seems insurmountable. Did you know how the book was going to end when you began it?