Summer Dance

by Nan Rossiter

  “Hey!” she said, standing to give me a hug too.

  “Hey,” I said, hugging her back and then pulling Liam against me. “You remember Liam?” I said.

  “Of course,” Lizzy said. “Although I don’t know if I would’ve recognized him without you telling me since he’s grown six inches since the last time I saw him.

  Liam grinned and politely shook her extended hand.

  “Mommy,” Elijah said, tugging Lizzy’s sleeve. “Guess what?”

  “What, hon?” she said, kneeling down, and although he whispered in her ear, we all heard what he said.

  “She did?!” Lizzy said, eyeing Elise in surprise.

  “I did not!” Elise protested.

  “Yes, you did,” Elijah insisted.

  Lizzy looked to me for confirmation, and I just smiled and shrugged. “She takes after her mother.”

  While we walked along the sun-dappled street, Lizzy filled me in on everything that had happened since I last saw her. “So Simon’s not going to prison,” she confided. “It looks like he just has to do some community service.”

  “Well, that’s good,” I said. “It would be a little tough for him to be Mr. Mom from jail.”

  She nodded. “And . . .” she continued.

  “What?” I asked, my interest piqued by the smile on her face.

  “I got the nursing job!”

  “You did?!”

  She nodded. “It’s not at Massachusetts General. It’s at Somerville—which is actually better because it’s closer and I won’t have to commute. The only thing is the first two weeks are orientation at half pay.”

  “That’s okay—it’ll go by fast and then you’ll be at full pay.”

  “And we’ll have insurance again—another thing we lost with Simon’s job.”

  “That’s great, Lizzy. I’m so happy for you.”

  She nodded. “And I have one more bit of good news—Simon’s grandmother did leave him a small inheritance—I know it’s crazy, but it’s just enough to get us out of the hole we’re in.”

  “Thank goodness!” I said. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard stories about people receiving just enough by some odd chance when they needed it the most. They called it God’s providence—but I’ve never known anyone whom it actually happened to.”

  “Well, I’ve been praying,” Lizzy whispered in confidence. “I even dug out my rosary beads.”

  “Whatever works,” I said, laughing.

  “So now, Simon’s home—hopefully mowing the lawn—and I can only stay till tomorrow morning,” she said. “I start orientation on Monday.”

  I nodded, and as we turned into my driveway, she reached for my arm to hold me back as the kids raced toward the house. “Did Elise really kiss Liam?”

  “Just on the cheek . . . but she also told him she loves him.”

  “No way!”

  “Way,” I said, laughing.

  She shook her head. “God help me!”

  Chapter 36

  “All shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well,” I murmured the quote to myself as I pulled into the driveway, praying Coop had misunderstood.

  When Lily and Daniel were killed, Coop had been blindsided. At the same time, he’d been blessed with a child—the child he always wanted—the child I couldn’t give him. Suddenly, he’d been compelled to look after someone other than himself and to see life from a different perspective. As the years slipped by and I watched how it changed him, I couldn’t help but wonder if Liam coming into his life wasn’t part of God’s plan—a plan born of tragedy, but only possible because of that tragedy—a plan that was part of the wondrous tapestry of life that we humans usually find so difficult to see.

  Liam had always been a good kid: He worked hard in school and at whatever job he was given; he was respectful and polite; and he was always first to offer a helping hand when one was needed—a trait that was made especially evident when he helped us serve dinner at the homeless shelter on Cape Cod every Thanksgiving. He had a good heart and loved to help people, and in spite of losing his parents, he had adjusted to living with his uncle and had grown up to be a generally good-natured—albeit serious and solemn—even-keeled kid.

  But all that changed the summer he turned seventeen.

  Every year, Coop told Liam to steer clear of all the pretty girls who flocked to Nantucket with their wealthy families in the summer. “They’ll steal your heart and kick you to the curb,” he warned, but Liam never seemed interested—he was too busy building boats—so it was never an issue. But all that changed when blond-haired, blue-eyed Cadie—Acadia McCormick Knox—walked into the boathouse with her father and stole Liam’s heart.

  “Reckless” and “damn fool” were some of the words Coop repeatedly used that summer, but Liam was undeterred. Even though Cadie’s parents forbid her from seeing him, Liam took her out in his 1955 Chris Craft Sportsman—the one he and Coop had found in an old barn and restored together—at every opportunity. Coop was certain—from their sandy, tan, dreamy-eyed appearance when they returned—that they were spending time on Tuckernuck—the small, secluded island west of Nantucket.

  “She’s gonna break your heart,” Coop warned, but Liam just shrugged. His head was playing no role in decision making that summer; only his heart . . . and if you asked Coop, a lower part of his anatomy.

  One evening, Liam and Cadie returned after dark, and as they neared the dock, they realized Cadie’s father was waiting for them. “Get in the car!” Carlton Knox barked when Liam turned off the motor.

  Cadie tried to say good night, but her father wouldn’t hear of it. “Now!” he growled, throwing her bike in the Dumpster and declaring she wouldn’t need it anymore.

  The next morning, Cadie was gone . . . and Liam was devastated.

  “The spin is unrecoverable,” Coop said after Liam started skipping school that fall. “He’s lost all direction.”

  And on a winter afternoon just before Christmas, Coop called me to tell me that Liam had enlisted, but as I drove to their house, I held on to the hope that he was wrong. As I parked my car—I’d finally broken down and bought a Subaru—I looked out through the gathering darkness to see if there was a light on in Liam’s bedroom, but it was dark and I murmured my prayer of self-reassurance again: “All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.” Then I climbed out, hurried through the freezing wind-whipped rain, and knocked on Coop’s door.

  “You don’t have to knock—he’s not here.”

  I pushed open the door and Coop turned from the fire. Immediately, I saw a glass in his hand and my heart sank—as Liam had grown older and more perceptive, Coop had tried to drink less, but every now and then—when life got to be too much—he tumbled headlong off the proverbial wagon.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “Where else?” he answered derisively. I nodded, knowing the answer. Jack had been Liam’s best friend since second grade. Jack had taken Liam under his wing when he first moved to Nantucket after losing his parents, and although Coop didn’t trust him, Liam loved Jack like a brother.

  “Glass of wine?” he asked.

  “No, I . . . okay,” I said, changing my mind.

  “I don’t know who the hell to blame,” Coop muttered as he trimmed off the wrapper around the neck of the bottle—just as he’d taught me twenty years earlier. “Jack . . . or that damn girl!”

  “Did Jack enlist too?”

  “Liam said he did—they’re going in together.”

  I watched him press the point of the corkscrew into the cork. “Maybe they didn’t sign the papers yet,” I suggested hopefully.

  Coop shook his head. “Oh, they signed ‘em all right—I saw the paperwork in his room.”

  “Do you know when they go?”

  “After they graduate,” Coop said, pouring a glass and handing it to me. “Assuming he does graduate. I’m beginning to have my doubts.”

  “Well, at least we’r
e not at war,” I consoled.

  “Not at the moment,” he said, taking a long sip of his whiskey. “The world is a crazy place, Sal—anything can happen.” He shook his head in dismay. “Lily would never forgive me.”

  “It’s not your fault. He did it without telling you.”

  “I should’ve seen it coming.”

  I stood in front of the fire and felt it warm my back. “Do you realize today is the tenth anniversary of the accident?”

  “Shit . . . no,” Coop said, shaking his head. “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “Do you think he did?”

  “I don’t doubt it,” he said, draining his glass and refilling it.

  “He’ll be okay,” I said softly. “Maybe it will be good for him. Maybe he’ll finally get over Cadie.”

  Coop chuckled. “I doubt it,” he said. “We Cooper men fall hard . . . and we rarely get over it.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured into my hair.

  “I’ve missed you too,” I said, turning to face him.

  He pulled me toward him.

  “When will he be home?”

  “He’s staying over Jack’s. I think he’s had enough of me.”

  “Well, I haven’t,” I said, moving against him.

  He smiled, took my glass, and put it on the mantel next to his, and as he pulled me against him, my mind drifted back to all the times—before Liam had come to live with him—we’d lay in front of the fireplace, our bodies intertwined and warmed by the heat of the fire. And although we’d found other ways to be together over the years, it had been ten years since we’d lain here....

  Chapter 37

  On July 5, 1990—two weeks after graduation—Liam and Jack left for Parris Island, and although the country was at peace when they left, one month later, Iraqi troops invaded Kuwait. Five months after that, Liam and Jack were deployed to Saudi Arabia as part of the first allied infantry group in support of Operation Desert Storm.

  That very same night, Coop—with Dimitri’s help—set off on a three-day tear. There was no talking to Coop after Liam shipped out, and although I worried, too, I couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to have the house to ourselves when he went off to training. Being able to walk around in my underwear and Coop’s old shirt; being able to have coffee together on Sunday mornings; being able to make love whenever we wanted—and basically, picking up where we’d left off—resuming the comfortable, easy habits of the unmarried couple we’d once been. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

  As soon as Liam finished training, he shipped out . . . and Coop started drinking heavily. When he wasn’t drunk, he was distracted; and when he was able to focus, it was on work, not pleasure. He threw himself into his work—claiming he had twice as much to do now that Liam wasn’t there. He spent long hours at the boathouse, burning the candle at both ends until he was exhausted. He was afraid to fall asleep, though, because, if he did, a phone call or a knock on the door in the middle of the night might come and bring the unbearable news that something had happened to Liam . . . and for this, Coop would never be able to forgive himself.

  Six months later, a phone call did come, but it wasn’t in the middle of the night. Liam had been injured, the caller reported, and was being medevaced to the nearest hospital in Germany. Coop was beside himself and, frantic for more information, began calling everyone he knew in the military. Finally, a former commander returned his call and assured him that Liam would be okay. The boys had been on a mission with their squad to take Ahmed Al Jaber Air Base—thought to be the primary command post for enemy forces—but as they’d made their approach, plumes of black smoke from burning oil fields had stopped them. When they’d finally been able to continue under the cover of darkness, everything that could’ve gone wrong, had—they’d come under enemy fire and Liam had been hit in the leg and a second bullet had grazed his temple just below his helmet. Jack had been hit, too, but thankfully, both were alive and expected to survive. Coop hung up the phone, sank into his chair, and covered his face with his hands. Liam was okay—his boy was okay.

  When Liam was well enough to travel, he was sent stateside. His injuries, although not life-threatening, were debilitating enough to make him eligible for an honorable discharge . . . and he would need months of rehabilitation in a vet hospital.

  Coop could not have been more excited as we made plans to drive to Maryland to see him at the National Naval Medical Center. It was the one time I didn’t care who saw us together—I was going!

  Liam came home three months later, using a cane, but as time went on, he needed it less, and although his physical injuries were mending, his heart was still broken. He never talked about Cadie, but he also showed no interest in dating anyone else, and even though there were plenty of girls who were interested in dating him—including Dimitri’s daughter Tracey—Liam just shook his head. Tracey was Jack’s girl, he said, and then just continued working beside Coop, learning as much as he could about the restoration and construction of wooden boats.

  Coop and Liam were two peas in a pod—driven by memories and heartache, they threw themselves into their work. The only difference between them was, at the end of a long day, Coop had a drink or two to unwind, while Liam went for a long run, forcing the ligaments and tendons in his injured knee to stretch and move. He wasn’t going to let an injury stop him from enjoying his only outlet for unwinding.

  Soon after Liam returned, Coop was commissioned to design and build a sailboat—an eighteen-foot sloop with a lovely green and white hull and a gorgeous varnished deck. It was for a man named John Alden, and he planned to call her Pride & Joy.

  Coop and Liam talked endlessly about the design, and once the plans were finalized and approved, they became so caught up in the construction of Pride & Joy that I rarely saw them—only when one of them stopped by for coffee on his way to work . . . or if I stopped by the boathouse to see how they were doing—and of course, bring them some sustenance! As they carefully and meticulously steamed wooden planks and bent them over the wooden frames, I overheard Coop muse, “Wooden boats have a way of giving a man’s life purpose. They symbolize the things that matter.” And I knew it was how he truly felt.

  Chapter 38

  I couldn’t believe Elise and Liam were turning twenty-five that summer, but even more unbelievable was the milestone Lizzy and I had reached—fifty! Since it was my turn to travel, I’d driven to Boston for our girls’ weekend celebration.

  “Where the heck has the time gone?” Lizzy asked as she sipped her cabernet in the Bell in Hand Tavern—it was only lunchtime, but as usual she’d convinced me we deserved a drink.

  “I don’t know,” I said, laughing. “It’s crazy! I definitely don’t feel fifty.”

  “I do,” she said, shaking her salt and pepper head.

  Lizzy and I hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years and I realized now, as she smiled, that she did look a little older—my dear friend was aging. Suddenly, it dawned on me that she was probably thinking the same thing about me. I smiled—our friendship had lasted over forty-five years—it was really quite remarkable.

  “So, what’s up?” I asked, searching her eyes. “You said you had something to tell me.”

  She nodded and took another long sip of her wine. Then she swirled her glass pensively. “Simon and I are getting a divorce.”

  “Oh no,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I’m so sorry, Lizzy.”

  She squeezed my hand and smiled. “It’s okay, Sal. Honestly, I’m not sad.”

  “I thought things were going better.”

  “They were . . . for a while, but he’s hooked on pain medicine again and I just can’t trust him. Things will never be the same.” She shook her head. “To be honest, Sal, I don’t love him anymore.”

  I nodded, my heart breaking for my friend.

  “I’ve been waiting for Elijah to graduate from R.I.S.D. and find a job—which he’s done—and now, I’m done too. I’ve found a place for Elise and
me to live, and as soon as the divorce is final, we’re out. Simon’s buying my share of the house, and then he can do whatever he wants with it—it’s so run-down I doubt he’ll be able to sell it, and if he does find a buyer, he won’t get much for it.”

  “Is he going to pay you alimony?”

  She took another sip of her wine and shook her head. “He doesn’t have any money, Sal. He’s supposed to pay support for Elise, but he’s not working, so I don’t think he’ll even be able to pay that. He’s probably going to end up homeless, and at this point, I don’t even care. He’s turned out to be a total loser.”

  I sighed—it had been a long time since I’d heard Lizzy call someone a total loser, but it certainly sounded like Simon deserved it. It always amazed me to see how people’s lives evolved. Some lives spiraled out of control, while others kept an even keel. And if a life was out of control, you could almost always look back and see where the wrong turn had been made.

  I took a sip of my wine. “Do the kids know?”

  Lizzy nodded and laughed. “Elijah asked me what took so long. He’s so grown up, Sal—you wouldn’t know him . . . and”— she hesitated—“not many people know this, but he’s gay. He’s been seeing someone for over a year.”

  “What?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

  “I know—my mother’s probably rolling over in her grave.”

  Just then, the waitress came over to see if we were ready to order, but we hadn’t even looked at our menus.

  “No problem. Take your time,” she said, then noticed Lizzy’s glass was empty. “Would you like another?”

  “Please,” Lizzy said, then looked at my glass. “C’mon, girl—ya gonna nurse that thing all day?”

  I laughed. “I have to pace myself.”

  The waitress disappeared and Lizzy looked back at me. “Anyway, ever since he was little, I’ve had moments when I’ve wondered whether he was, but I always pushed the thought away. But you know what they say—a mother’s heart always knows. And honestly, Sal, he has such a kind, generous soul—that’s all that really matters. I love him with all my heart and I just want him to be happy.”