Summer Dance

by Nan Rossiter

  Liam brushed back his tears. “Thanks, Sal,” he said softly. “That was perfect. It was just the right thing to say—I can just see him talking to Noah.” He smiled sadly. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded, and as I put my arms around Tuck’s neck, Liam turned the box on its side and lifted it over the waves. We watched solemnly as Coop’s ashes drifted through the summer air, sparkling in the late-day sunlight.

  Chapter 45

  “ ‘What are human beings that thou are mindful of them . . .’ ” I whispered, looking up at the vast August sky full of stars, “ ‘mortals that you care for them?’ ” I was sitting on the weathered, old bench Coop had made years earlier with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Every year, Coop and I had sat on the bench together to watch the Perseid meteor shower, but tonight I watched alone, determined to carry on the tradition—even if it made my heart ache. As I looked up at the sky, waiting for the first meteor, I replayed the conversation I’d had with Lizzy earlier that evening. I’d finally told her about my relationship with Coop, and instead of being angry, she’d chuckled....

  * * *

  “I’ve always known, silly. Do you think I couldn’t tell you were in love? I’ve asked you several times, over the years, about the cute boat builder, but you always seemed determined to keep it a secret. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready to, but, honestly, Sal, I never expected it to take forty-four years!”

  “I can’t believe you knew all this time!” I exclaimed, recalling all the times I’d felt miserable because I hadn’t told her.

  “Of course I knew. I know you better than anyone—probably than you know yourself. I don’t know all the details. I’ll let you fill me in over a glass—make that a bottle—of wine the next time we’re together . . . and since I’ve been so patient, I expect all the details!”

  I laughed, feeling utterly thankful and relieved that I hadn’t lost my best friend! “Well, I’ve actually been thinking of writing a book.”

  “You should!” Lizzy exclaimed. “You always wanted to be a writer, and I think you’ve read every book ever written, so you should know how to do it.”

  “I haven’t read every book,” I countered. “In fact, I’ve hardly read anything lately. I can’t seem to make out small print anymore and my eyes get tired in no time—not to mention, I fall asleep.”

  “I’ll have to get you some large-print books,” she teased.

  “You might have to,” I said, laughing. “Can you believe we’re getting that old?”

  “No, I can’t,” she said; then she grew quiet. “I’m really sorry, Sal,” she said softly. “You must be devastated . . . and lost.”

  I nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

  “I wish I was there so I could give you a hug,” she said softly.

  “I wish you were too,” I managed to answer tearfully.

  “I love you, my dear friend.”

  “I love you too.”

  * * *

  I listened to the waves lapping the shore and my thoughts drifted back to Coop. It had been a month since Liam had pulled into my driveway and given me the devastating news, but the continuous ache in my heart felt as if it would never ease. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Coop sitting next to me; then my mind drifted farther back—to the beginning. To the first time I saw him . . . to the first time we danced....

  * * *

  I stood up and walked toward the water with my beer. It was then that I noticed the young man from the restaurant leaning against the bar. He was looking away, but when I walked past him, he turned, and for the first time I saw his face . . . and his blue eyes. He nodded to me and I smiled.

  “How come you’re not dancing?” he asked.

  “I don’t have anyone to dance with,” I said, finding it hard to not notice his chiseled jaw and fine aristocratic features. He was tall, and although his T-shirt was tight around his shoulders, his faded jeans hung loosely from his hips.

  “Dance with me,” he ventured shyly.

  I shook my head. “I’m not very good.”

  “I’m not either,” he said, holding out his hand. I put down my sandals and beer and, without saying a word, he pulled me toward him and we swayed slowly back and forth to Bob Dylan’s “Lay Lady Lay.”

  “I love this song,” I murmured.

  He nodded, but didn’t reply, and when it ended, I heard Lizzy calling. “I better go,” I said, quickly pulling away and picking up my things. “Thank you for the dance.”

  He nodded.

  I started to walk away, but when I looked back, I saw the sad half smile that I would never forget.

  * * *

  I started to softly sing Bob Dylan’s haunting ballad “Lay Lady Lay,” and as I did, tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t heard the song in years, but now, as I sang it, the words came to me as if I’d heard it yesterday—and I realized how profoundly fitting the lyrics were. “Oh, Coop,” I whispered, “you were always right in front of me.”

  I wiped my eyes and looked up at the stars sparkling in the endless sky. “Are you up there?” I whispered. “Are you keeping an eye on us? Do you know how lost I am without you? How lost Liam is? And poor Tuck is so despondent he won’t let Liam out of his sight. . . .” Suddenly, a bright light streaked across the sky and I caught my breath. The majesty of creation—with all its nuance and detail and timeless beauty—always caught me by surprise. We’d watched the meteor shower every year, weather permitting, and it never failed to fill me with awe. I continued to watch in amazement as one bright light after another emerged from the darkness and streaked silently across the heavens.

  “ ‘What are human beings that thou art mindful of them,’ ” I whispered again when the meteors started to wane. “ ‘Mere mortals that you care for us?’ ” As I said this, I pulled the blanket around me and watched a single star—not a meteor—grow brighter and I felt oddly at peace. The God I knew—and loved—was as constant as that star, and I knew He would always love me—no matter what I did. He’d already proven his enduring love with the life he’d given me—my life on Nantucket—my life with Coop . . . and I knew Coop would always be with me, in my heart.

  August

  Sally woke with a start and blinked at the bright sunlight streaming through her bedroom windows. She sat up straight and looked at the clock—it was after seven! How could that be? She never overslept! Why hadn’t her alarm gone off?

  Feeling movement, Jax—from his sprawled-out position on the other side of the bed—opened one eye. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked, flying from the bed and pulling on Coop’s old flannel shirt as she hurried to the bathroom. Jax watched her curiously and then hopped lightly off the bed and peered around the doorway. “We’re going to be late!” she said with her mouth full of toothpaste. Jax didn’t seem the least bit concerned, though, as he trotted after her to the kitchen and nosed around the closet door where his food was kept. “Out first,” Sally reminded, opening the front door. “Make it quick and don’t pee on my flowers!” But she may as well have said the opposite because the growing little Lab trotted right over to her black-eyed Susans and promptly lifted his leg, releasing the first long stream of the day. “I said don’t!” she called, but he just gazed up at her innocently and kept on peeing.

  “Honestly, Jax, do you think you could listen?” she asked as he loped past her, wagging his tail, and headed right back to the closet. She opened the door and felt him trying to nudge past her and push his head into the bag. “You’d eat the whole bag if I let you!” she said, scooping a cup of kibble. She tossed a couple onto his bed, which he promptly gobbled, and walked over to the sink to add some water. When she turned around, he was sitting politely next to his water bowl, waiting. She put his food down, smiled as he gazed at it longingly, and whispered, “Okay!” and Jax bolted over and began wolfing it down. “You’re such a Lab!” She glanced over at her coffeemaker, shook her head in dismay, and hurried down the hall to take a quick shower. Her coffee would have to wait.

>   Twenty minutes later, Sally parked behind Cuppa Jo and hurried inside with Jax at her heels. Liam and Tracey and the kids were already there, setting up. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, hanging the clothes she planned to wear behind the door and kissing Tuck’s brow when he hurried over to say hello.

  “You’re not late,” Tracey assured as she cut lemon squares and arranged them on plates. “Besides, we have everything under control.”

  “Happy Pub Day!” Liam said, smiling. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say to famous authors?”

  “I don’t know and I’m definitely not famous,” Sally said, “but thank you. I feel a little foolish. What if no one comes?”

  Tracey put her arm around her. “Stop worrying, Sal. I saw Wendy last night and she said they’ve had a ton of calls and she’s praying they ordered enough books!”

  Sally shook her head skeptically. “We’ll see.”

  “Come on outside and see the sign again,” Aidan said, reaching for Sally’s hand. “We added something.”

  Sally allowed herself to be pulled out to the front porch, and just as she looked up, T. J. plugged in an extension cord and a long string of tiny white Christmas lights sparkled to life. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “You guys are doing too much.”

  “It was Olivia’s idea,” T. J. said, politely giving his sister credit.

  “Well, it looks wonderful! I don’t know how anyone will be able to walk by without stopping to see what’s going on.”

  “That’s the plan,” Aidan said, grinning.

  They went back inside and Sally headed straight for the coffee. She poured a cup and then headed to the kitchen to help Tracey arrange cucumber, cream cheese, and dill finger sandwiches on a tray. “These look yummy,” she said.

  “You’d think we were having a grand opening for Cuppa Jo instead of a book signing,” Tracey commented.

  “You’re not kidding,” Liam chimed in as he dumped ice into a wooden bucket.

  “Well, if people don’t come for a book, maybe they’ll at least stop by for some food,” Sally said. “We definitely have enough to feed the whole island! Including you two,” she said, looking down at Jax and Tuck, who were intently watching Tracey’s every move.

  Tracey laughed as she covered the trays with plastic wrap.

  “What can I do?” Sally asked. “Job me.”

  “Nothing,” Liam said. “You’re the guest of honor.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” Sally protested. “I’ll go crazy if I don’t have a job.”

  Just then, the bell on the front door tinkled, announcing a customer, and Liam looked up at the clock. “Why don’t you go out front?”

  “Okay,” Sally said.

  The next two hours flew by—the shop was busier than ever—so much so, Sally had to put the kids to work! Finally, Liam closed the front door, saying, “We just need a few minutes to get ready.”

  T. J., Aidan, and Olivia quickly covered the tables with crisp white linen tablecloths and set a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers in the center of each table while Tracey brought out trays of sandwiches and desserts. “Sally was wondering if you guys might like to pass trays too. What do you think?”

  They all grinned and nodded.

  “Good. Well, make sure you carry a little stack of these fancy napkins in one hand,” she said, opening a package and taking them out, “and offer them to anyone who takes something to eat or drink.” She turned and eyed Sally. “You better go get ready,” she said. “Wendy said she’d be here by ten—and she’s bringing more books.”

  Sally felt her heart start to pound—she’d never felt so nervous. It was suddenly dawning on her that she had put her whole life story out there for the world to read—and not just her story, but her innermost thoughts and perspective about life and faith and friendship, too—and it was too late to take any of it back. She’d spent most of her life keeping her life a secret and now she was exposing herself to the entire world! What if everyone laughed? What if they thought she was crazy? What if they criticized her and said her story was awful? The thought was almost too much to bear.

  “Who’s idea was this anyway?” she murmured as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling her old T-shirt over her head. She stepped into her new white linen slacks, slipped on the sea green linen blouse she’d bought especially for the occasion, and clasped her mother’s pearls around her neck. As she put on the earrings Coop had given her, she looked at her reflection and reached up to tuck some loose strands of her silver hair behind her ears. “I am who I am,” she said softly. “I’ve done the best that I can and I’ve spent far too much time worrying what the world thinks.” She folded her T-shirt and shorts, slipped them into her bag, and softly whispered, “ ‘Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus! Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death’ . . . and please be with me right now! Amen.” Then she mustered a smile and opened the bathroom door.

  “Wow! Look at you!” Liam said, grinning.

  Sally looked down. “Do I look okay?”

  “You look amazing!” he said.

  “You look like an author!” Aidan piped.

  Sally laughed. “And what, exactly, does an author look like?”

  “She looks smart.”

  “I think I must be fooling you, or maybe it’s my glasses,” Sally said, reaching up to make sure they were still on top of her head.

  “No, you definitely look like an author,” Olivia confirmed while T. J. nodded.

  Tracey put her arm around her. “You look stunning, and if you’re nervous, just remember what you always tell us: ‘All shall be well . . .’ ” And on cue, they all chimed in, “ ‘and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well!’ ”

  Sally laughed and looked at each of them. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Just then, Wendy came through the back door wheeling a handcart with two more boxes of books on it. “Hi, hi, hi!” she said, smiling. “Have you looked outside?! I think the whole island is out in your parking lot.”

  “No way!” the kids said, running to look out the windows.

  “It’s just the free food,” Sally said, laughing nervously.

  “No, it’s not,” Liam said. “It’s because they want to get a signed copy of your wonderful book.”

  She laughed. “Did you finally finish it?”

  “I did,” he said, smiling. “I loved it. It’s a classic.”

  “It is wonderful,” Tracey confirmed. “I always wondered about you and Coop!”

  “That reminds me,” Wendy said, reaching into her bag. “I don’t know if your editor e-mailed this review to you yet . . .”

  Sally shook her head. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t even looked at my e-mail.”

  “Well, this was in the New York Times,” she said, handing Sally a copy of the Sunday Book Review. Sally scanned the review and shook her head in disbelief.

  “What does it say?” Tracey asked.

  She looked up with glistening eyes and then cleared her throat and looked back down. “Adams’s lyrical debut novel, Summer Dance, takes a lifelong love affair and encapsulates it into the purposeful and easy-to-read framework of a lovely memoir. . . .”

  “Wow!” Tracey said. “That’s wonderful!”

  “And that’s just one of the glowing reviews,” Wendy said. She looked out front. “I think we’d better get started.”

  Liam wheeled the cart to the table they’d set up with a display of books. Then he pulled the chair out for Sally. “Got your pen ready?”

  She nodded and sat down, praying her hands would stop shaking, and Aidan, who was standing by the front door, looked over. “Ready?”

  She nodded again and Aidan opened the door, and as people began filtering in, tears filled her eyes—she felt as if she was a guest on the old TV show This Is Your Life. Everyone from Lizzy and Elise—who had secretly traveled to Nantucket
to surprise her—and Abe—who, at ninety, was living in a retirement community on Cape Cod—to Levi, Emma, and little Lily—who’d come over from Tuckernuck that morning; and from her editor and agent—who’d traveled from New York—to all the shop owners, friends, and customers on Nantucket had stopped by to show their love and support.

  “I can’t believe you came all the way out here!” Sally said, standing back up to give Lizzy a hug.

  “Are you kidding?!” Lizzy said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Especially since I’m a main character!”

  Sally laughed. “True, but that would be another reason to not come—you’ve already read it!” She’d absolutely made sure Lizzy had read—and approved—it before it went to press.

  “That’s not the same as having a copy signed by the author,” Lizzy said, hugging the book to her chest. “By the way, before I forget—Elijah wanted me to be sure to give you his best. He and Evan wanted to come, but they are swamped with work. He said he can’t wait to read it.”

  “Well, please tell him ‘thank you’ and I completely understand. By the way, how’re you feeling?” Sally asked quietly.

  “You don’t need to whisper,” Lizzy said, laughing. “Remember—it’s all in here,” she said, tapping the cover.

  “I know,” Sally said, “but not everyone knows it’s you.”

  “Well, maybe you should introduce me.”

  Sally raised her eyebrows. “I hadn’t thought of that! Do you want me to?”

  “No, no, I’m kidding. And I’m fine. I just had my follow-up, and although I’m still flat-chested, I’m in complete remission.”

  “Oh, Lizzy! That’s wonderful!” Sally said tearfully, giving her another hug.