by Nan Rossiter
He’d been so surprised to hear her voice at Levi’s art show opening, and when he’d turned around, he’d barely recognized her. If he hadn’t been living a life of seclusion—without a television or computer—he might’ve known how ravaging cancer treatments can be to the human body. And then, when she told him—out of the blue as they stood in the gallery—that Levi was his son—their son—it was almost too crazy to believe; in fact, he probably wouldn’t have believed it if Levi hadn’t looked like him.
He should’ve been angry at Cadie for not telling him sooner, but in the next breath, she’d introduced her other son, seven-year-old Aidan, who—with his blond hair and Caribbean Sea blue eyes—looked just like her. What followed their chance meeting—which he later learned had been choreographed by Levi—had been a whirlwind of decisions and arrangements. Cadie had known she was dying, and it was breaking her heart to know that her controlling, overbearing parents would win custody of her young son, so Liam had promised he’d do everything possible to make sure he would win custody of her little boy—including marrying her. But now, she was gone and he didn’t know a thing about raising a child. For the first time in his life, he realized how overwhelmed Coop must’ve felt under the same circumstances.
He heard another crash and stood up. “Comin’ in, pal,” he announced.
“No, don’t—it’s almost ready!”
Reluctantly, Liam sat back down, and a moment later, Aidan pushed open the screen door with a wooden tray in his hands and set it down on the small table next to Liam.
“What have we here?” he asked, eyeing two lightly toasted, golden sandwiches.
“Grilled cheese and some of Sally’s bread and butter pickles,” Aidan said with a grin as he scooted Moby—their gray tiger cat—off the other chair and sat down next to him.
“Mm-mm, looks good!” Liam said approvingly.
“Thanks,” Aidan said, trying to keep Tuck’s curious nose off the tray.
“Lie down, Tuck,” Liam said, and although the big golden clumped to the wooden floor, he continued to gaze longingly at the tray.
“I brought you something too,” Aidan consoled, sliding a dog treat out from under one of the plates and holding it out. Tuck took it politely and wolfed it down in one gulp.
“Did you even taste it, silly?” Aidan asked, shaking his head. He reached for half of one of the sandwiches and held it so Liam couldn’t see the bottom.
As Liam reached for half of the second sandwich, he couldn’t help but notice the dark brown underside.
“Don’t look at the bottom,” Aidan warned.
“Ah, the ole serve-the-best-side-up trick,” Liam teased. “You’re learning.”
Aidan took a bite. “It still tastes good.”
“Spoken like a true professional . . . con artist!”
Aidan grinned and then his face grew hopeful. “Can we go see Levi and Emma and Lily this afternoon?”
“We just saw them yesterday,” Liam said, taking a bite of a pickle.
“They were only here a minute, and besides, it would be fun to go to Tuckernuck.”
“Maybe we should let them get settled first,” Liam said, knowing his older son and his girlfriend hadn’t been out to their studio cottage since the previous summer. Since the secluded island west of Nantucket didn’t have electricity or any of the comforts and conveniences of the modern world, staying there with a toddler was going to be a little challenging. “Isn’t there something else you’d like to do? We have lots of sanding to do at the boathouse. . . .”
“Mm-mm.” Aidan shook his head with his mouth full of his sandwich.
“Is that why you made lunch today?” Liam asked, raising his eyebrows. “Are you trying to ply me with food?”
“Nooo,” Aidan said, laughing.
Just then, Liam’s phone—which had once been Cadie’s—sprang to life, playing the B-52’s raucous eighties hit “Love Shack” and Liam looked at the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he said, and Aidan grinned.
“What’s up? . . . Yes, we’re having lunch.... Mm-hmm . . . Your brother made grilled cheese.... It is good. I could bring him out there and he could make you one.... Yes, just don’t look at the bottom.... Mm-hmm, you must be the one who taught him the serve-the-good-side-up trick.... No, you didn’t learn it from me . . . you must’ve learned it from your mother. Yeah, what do you need? Hang on. In fact, talk to Aid while I get a pen.” Liam handed the phone to Aidan and went inside, and even though he was back a moment later with a pen and a scrap of paper, he had to wait for Aidan to finish telling his older half brother all about his recent baseball game.
Later that afternoon, after picking up the supplies Levi needed, Liam stood inside the wooden doors of the old boathouse—which had looked out over Nantucket Sound for over a hundred years—and pushed a metal button on the wall. He heard the familiar click of an electrical connection, and a second later, the ancient winch housed under a heavy metal panel in the floor creaked to life and the metal cable began creeping along the floor, unwinding from a large spool that was also under the panel. Liam slowly pushed his 1955 Chris Craft Sportsman—aptly named Cadie-did!—out into the sunlight until the cable—straining under the weight of the runabout—became taut, and the trolley—on which the boat sat—began creeping slowly toward the water.
“Aid, grab the line,” he called, and Aidan skipped the stone in his hand and trotted across the paved boat ramp.
When the gorgeous runabout finally floated free, Liam pushed the bottom button to stop the winch and Aidan pulled the boat toward the dock and secured it with a cleat hitch, just as Liam had taught him. “Can I drive, Cap?” he called hopefully, zipping his life jacket.
“When we’re out of the marina,” Liam said, closing and locking the boathouse doors. Whenever Aidan called him “Cap,” it reminded him of how he’d always called his uncle “Coop.” He looked up at the wooden sign swinging lazily in the hot July breeze. Cooper’s Marine Railway—Boat Building and Restoration had been his uncle’s business. Winston Ellis Cooper III—or Coop, as everyone had called him—had raised Liam after his parents, Lily and Daniel, were killed in a car accident on the snowy Massachusetts Turnpike. Liam had only been seven at the time—the same age Aidan was when Cadie died—and afterward, adjusting to life on Nantucket with his mom’s older brother—the rough-around-the-edges Vietnam vet with a penchant for Jack Daniels—had been difficult, so when Aidan came into Liam’s life under similar circumstances, Liam knew all too well how hard it would be.
The first time Liam saw Cadie, they were both seventeen; and when she left Nantucket without saying good-bye, she took his heart with her. Twenty-six years later, when she returned to Nantucket, they were both forty-three, and with one look, she stole his heart all over again, but this time, in exchange, she’d given him two sons—one he never knew he had, and one who would need his steady guidance for many more years to come . . . and who—after Liam told him about Nantucket’s most famous literary character, Captain Ahab—started calling him “Cap ”—short for Captain.
Liam gently lifted Tuck into the boat and then, one by one, handed Aidan the boxes of supplies Levi had requested—little things Levi couldn’t believe they’d forgotten but couldn’t live without. Liam pressed the Start button of the runabout and the engine rumbled to life, its tailpipe sputtering and spraying seawater. Then, he masterfully backed away from the dock and swung around, and after they’d made their way out of the marina, he motioned for Aidan to take over.
With a grin on his tan face, Aidan moved to the helm. In the two years he’d lived on Nantucket, Aidan had grown to be completely at ease around boats, and he knew exactly what to do when Cap asked. He’d made it his goal to learn all the nautical knots, and he tied them swiftly and deftly; he knew the difference between port and starboard, fore and aft, bow and stern; and he knew how to use the marine radio—initiating communication with other vessels as well as ship-to-coast calls using the boat’s registration—“This is Cadie-did-Whiskey
-Zulu-Five-Six-Niner-Five”—something he’d need to know if there ever was an emergency and he had to make a distress call.
With easy confidence and hands confident beyond their years, Aidan gripped the smooth white steering wheel.
“Good thing you’re better at handling the boat than you are at making grilled cheese sandwiches!” Liam teased.
Aidan shook his head and grinned. He’d never had a real dad—he didn’t even know his biological father—but if he had to choose a dad, he couldn’t think of anyone better than Cap. One time, he’d almost called him “Dad,” and he wondered—if he did—how Cap would react. Aidan looked over and watched him. He was glad his mom had fallen in love with him and that she’d found a way for him to stay with him after she died. Lately, he’d been trying not to think about her. It made his whole chest ache, but it helped to know he wasn’t the only one who missed her—Cap and Levi missed her too.
Tuckernuck came into view and as they neared Levi’s dock, Aidan slowed down, expecting Cap to take over, but when he nodded for him to continue, Aidan smiled and pulled up next to Levi’s boat with ease and precision. “Good job, pal,” Liam said, dropping the bumpers over the side and hopping out to tie the lines.
Liam lifted Tuck out, and the big golden bounded toward Levi, who was standing on the beach with Lily, named after her paternal grandmother, in his arms.
“Hey, Tuck,” Levi said softly, kneeling down so Lily could pet him.
A moment later, Aidan was beside them, carrying one of the boxes—the one with the baby formula and diapers in it. “I got the goods, Lily,” he announced with a grin.
“Hey, Aid,” Levi said, giving his little half brother a hug. Then he looked up at Liam. “Thanks for getting everything, Dad . . . and bringing it out.”
“No problem,” Liam said with a smile as he set the box of supplies down on the sand and took his granddaughter from Levi. “We’re always looking for a reason to come visit Lily,” he teased. “Aren’t we, Aid?”
Aidan nodded as he tickled her bare feet, and Levi picked up the box and smiled. “C’mon, Em’s waiting.”
Aidan raced ahead with Tuck at his heels. He loved visiting the restored studio cottage Cap had given to Levi, and the fact that it didn’t have electricity only made it more fun. Like most of the other houses on Tuckernuck, it had a small generator that ran the fridge and water pump, and in the evening, Levi lit propane lanterns for a rustic, cozy light. Aidan thought it was the coolest place on earth and he fully planned to live on Tuckernuck, too, when he got older.
He pushed open the gate and saw Tigger sunning himself on the front steps. “Hey, Tig,” he said, kneeling down to pet the orange tiger cat.
“Hello, Aid,” a voice with a distinctly British accent said.
Aidan looked in the window. “Hi, Em!”
“Are you hungry?”
He shrugged. “We just had grilled cheese, so I’m a little full.”
“I made blueberry pie,” Emma said.
Aidan pushed open the door and Tigger scooted in. “You did?!”
“Mm-hmm,” Emma said, wiping her hands on her apron and giving him a hug.
He looked around the kitchen and she pointed.
“Mmm . . . that looks good. I’m hungry enough for that!”
“I thought you might be,” she said with a warm smile. “Did you and Cap bring whipping cream?”
“I think so,” Aidan said as Levi and Liam came into the kitchen.
“Cap, did we bring whipping cream?”
“We did—it’s in one of these boxes.” He set down the box he’d carried from the boat but kept Lily in his arms as he looked around. “The place looks great,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Doesn’t it, Lil?” he asked, kissing her on the nose and making her giggle and place her hands gently on his unshaved cheeks.
Liam had bought the cottage many years ago—long before he knew he had a son. He’d discovered the house when he was just a teenager. Back then, he’d loved to skip his wooden runabout—the one he and Coop had restored together—and which he’d named Tuckernuck II—over the waves to the secluded island and hike or go swimming. It was on one of these boyhood explorations that he discovered the little half cape almost completely hidden by a wild, overgrown rose bush. After he met Cadie, he brought her out to the island, showed her the cottage, and told her about his dream to buy it someday. Back then, it had belonged to someone who never used—or maintained—it, and Liam told her he hoped it didn’t go on the market until he had enough money saved to buy it. “It has a lot of potential,” Cadie had said with an encouraging smile.
“It also has a lot of sentimental value,” he’d told Levi, years later when he gave him the key, hinting his oldest son had probably been conceived on the cottage’s wooden floor—the same spot where Liam had knelt twenty-five years later to ask Cadie to marry him.
“Soo . . .” Levi ventured shyly, glancing at Emma before looking at his dad. “We have some news.”
Liam immediately looked at Emma with raised eyebrows. “Are you?”
She smiled and Liam laughed. “Boy, you don’t mess around!” Then he shook his head. “I mean, you do mess around!”
Levi laughed. “Well, it’s not just that. . . .”
He looked at Emma again and she held up her left hand. “We’re also going to make it legal.”
“Well, it’s about time!” Liam said, smiling. “Congratulations!”
Aidan frowned and looked from one to the other. “Make what legal?”
“We’re going to get married,” Emma said, pulling her little almost half-brother-in-law into a hug. “And we’re having another baby.”
“All right!” Aidan said happily.
“I’ve had the ring a while,” Levi said, looking sheepishly at Em, “but I wanted to ask Em here—where you asked Mom.”
“All right!” Aidan exclaimed again. “We’re going to have another wedding!”
Later that evening, after Aidan was in bed, Liam leaned back in his chair and thought about the day. He was beyond happy for Levi and Emma—they—and he—had so much for which to be thankful. Their lives were truly blessed. In the last two years he’d gone from being a reclusive, lonely boat builder who didn’t pay attention to the modern world and all its trappings to being a cell-phone-carrying, Internet-savvy father of two and grandfather of one . . . and a half . . . and that was just the beginning of the potential blessings his life could hold. He smiled wistfully, reached for the book on the table, and opened it to the bookmark Sally had given him.
PART II
For I know the plans I have for you . . . plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
—Jeremiah 29:11
Chapter 10
“These belonged to your mom,” my dad said, pulling a big suitcase and a smaller matching travel bag out of the back of his closet. “They haven’t been used since our honeymoon,” he said, pointing to my mom’s maiden name printed neatly on the ID tag.
He carried the bags to my room and set them on my bed, and I immediately opened them. The scent of lavender drifted out as I felt around the pockets, curious to see if there were any forgotten memories inside. Almost immediately, I felt something in the back pocket of the bigger case, and when I pulled out a long, gorgeous string of pearls, my dad’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, my goodness!” he exclaimed. “We always wondered what happened to those. They were my grandmother’s, and she gave them to your mom on our wedding day. Your mom wore them on our honeymoon, but when we got home, she couldn’t find them.” He paused and shook his head. “She was devastated.” I held the necklace out to him and he lightly touched the luminous pearls as if remembering, but then he shook his head again. “You keep them. They were your mother’s and your great-grandmother’s before her, so now they’re yours—they would want you to have them.”
“Oh, Dad, I don’t know,” I said, frowning. “Are you sure?”
He nodded.
I searched his glistening
eyes. “Thank you,” I said softly. “I’ll treasure them always.”
“I know you will,” he said, giving me a hug. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he whispered.
“I will,” I said, and when he turned to walk out, for the second time in my life, I saw tears in his eyes.
My dad left for work early the next morning, before I was even up. He knew I was leaving, but he must’ve found it hard to say good-bye. He left a note on the table: Safe home, kiddo. Don’t be a stranger.
I smiled as I made my tea. I knew he would be all right. We both would.
“I told you I’d live on Nantucket someday,” I said when Lizzy dropped me off at the ferry.
“And, if you remember, I told you there was no reason you couldn’t,” she said, giving me a long hug.
“It’s all thanks to you and Simon,” I said. Simon’s grandmother had been thrilled to find someone reliable to stay in her cottage. She didn’t like that it sat empty, especially in the summertime, and she didn’t want to rent it—she said there were too many family heirlooms. To my surprise, she didn’t even want me to pay rent—Simon said she called me “her caretaker” and actually thought she should pay me!
“No, it’s not thanks to us,” Lizzy said. “Simon’s grandmother was looking for someone and you came along at just the right moment. God’s timing is perfect.”
“Sometimes,” I said with a wry smile. Although Lizzy no longer believed some things the church taught, she would always believe in God’s timing. “You better come visit,” I added.
“You know it!” she said with a grin. She looked over my shoulder as the last passenger walked up the ramp, and nodded. “You’re not going to be able to find a seat.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind standing on the deck.”
She nodded knowingly. “Okay, then, go do great things,” she said, giving me one last hug.
“You too,” I said.
She held me at arm’s length and we searched each other’s eyes. It was the moment we both knew would come someday, but somehow, it was still taking us by surprise.
