Sailing Lessons

by Hannah McKinnon

  They unloaded the beach bag and cooler. Caleb and Wren each took a beach chair, and Lucy plucked her bucket and shovels from the back. At the top of the steps, Wren paused and looked at her father. He placed a shaky hand on the railing and stared over the expanse of the beach blow. His brow was creased, from worry or pain she couldn’t say.

  “What are we waiting for?” Lucy wanted to know.

  Wren studied her father. “You sure this isn’t too much?”

  He shifted the beach chair on his shoulder and gripped the railing. “Lucy, lead the way.”

  Thirty-Five

  Piper

  They were back on. She’d seen Derek every day, sometimes twice, since the day they met at the Beach House Grill. Suddenly he could not get enough of her, and while she found it surprising and confusing given the fact he was on a family vacation and had never before been able to make himself this available to her back in Boston, she did not dare question it. For now, he was hers again.

  She’d been at the Hooker’s Ball no more than a few minutes when he texted her. Everyone here is wiped out from the beach and in bed early. I can get away for an hour. Where are you?

  It was not a good time. She was at a ticketed event with her family surrounded by people. And yet it worked. People were dressed up and dancing, mingling and eating. Half of them were knee-deep in cocktail hour. With all the excitement, no one would miss her if she snuck down to the car for a little while. She made sure to show her face and greet those she knew, slugged back a flute of champagne, and scurried through the tent to the parking lot. She’d bumped into Reid on the way.

  “Where’s the fire?” he joked.

  “Oh, I just forgot something in the car.”

  “Want me to get it for you?” Reid was such a gentleman. But in that moment, she wished he’d be less attentive and get the heck out of there.

  “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She turned toward the lot.

  “One thing,” Reid said.

  Piper stilled, fearful for a second that he somehow knew what she was up to. Only Wren did, so far, and while her family was completely crazy, as far as she knew none of them had tarnished the family name, so to speak. Least of all Shannon and Reid, with their immaculate house and monogrammed sweaters and perfect family. They were spotless all around.

  “I’m worried about Shannon,” he said.

  Piper let out a breath of relief. “Oh, right. Me, too.”

  This got his attention. “You are?”

  “No, well not really. What I meant to say is things have been kind of strained with my dad back in town, and I know it’s been hard on her.”

  Reid was running his hand thoughtfully over his chin. “Has she said anything to you?”

  Piper stole a look at the parking lot, feeling guilty. Her brother-in-law was normally a private guy, and she could tell he was pretty worried. But she didn’t have much time. “Not to me,” she said. “I’m still hoping she’ll agree to see him though.”

  “Me, too. But it’s not just about your father. To be honest I think she’s been struggling for a while.” He looked her in the eye. “Do you think she drinks too much?”

  So, this was not just about their dad. Piper hadn’t exactly been spending much time with Shannon since she got back. But come to think of it, when she did see her she seemed to have a drink in hand.

  “Has she done anything that worries you?” Piper asked.

  Reid shook his head. “Nothing specific, no. The kids are fine, and she’s been busy working on that new listing she and my mother landed. I know that was stressful for her. And of course, your father.” His voice trailed off as if he’d answered his own question.

  “Well, that’s probably it then. You know Shannon. She’s so put together, always on top of everything. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Reid brightened a little.

  A small black car rolled in and Piper felt a flutter in her tummy as she recognized Derek’s Audi. “Well, I better get my thing. From my car,” she added quickly, praying Reid wouldn’t stick around and wait for her.

  “Thanks, Piper. I appreciate what you said.” She watched as he headed back up the walkway toward the tent. As soon as he slipped beneath the awning, she hurried down the steps.

  She’d worried about how stupid she’d been earlier, blurting out that she loved him in the dressing room. Piper did not fall in love; she certainly did not show her cards to a man, no matter how much she liked him.

  But then a terrible thought struck her as she approached his car. What if Derek was calling things off? Maybe she’d said too much; maybe he felt too pressured. His car was running, and she bent down and knocked on the passenger window, bracing herself for the worst.

  Derek’s face lit up. “God you look hot. Get in here.”

  They’d made love in the backseat, heaving for breath afterward. “Please stay,” he whispered. It couldn’t be just about the sex if he were sticking around when she knew he had a family waiting back at his beach rental, just as she had a family waiting for her somewhere up under the tent. “For just a few minutes more,” he added, tracing her jaw with his finger.

  “People are going to be wondering where I am,” she said, secretly pleased to be the one to be begging off for the first time. Before getting out of the car, she glanced around. The band was really going now, and the smell of the fish fry made her stomach growl. If only she could take his hand and lead him back to the party. But still, what a wonderful night this was turning out to be. Derek surprised her by getting out of the car first, and running around to open her door. He took her in his arms once more and kissed her goodbye. It was their only close call, as a car across the lot started and turned their headlights on them. Piper ducked out of the glare, shielding her eyes. “Fuck!” she muttered. But then the car pulled away, and she pulled him in for another kiss, laughing at the danger having passed.

  She’d filled her plate and found her family at the table. Wren seemed to be annoyed, saying something about Shannon leaving early, which gave Piper pause. But Lindy and Hank seemed to be making the most of the ball, taking a few turns on the dance floor. Piper ordered herself another champagne and joined them. She ran into a few old friends who gushed when they saw her, one of whom was married with kids. Another engaged, as luck would have it. But she didn’t even mind listening as they talked about weddings and first houses. Before the night ended, she got Wren out on the dance floor when the band played “Twist and Shout,” and when she fell into bed just before midnight she slept through the night for the first time in months.

  First thing the next morning she’d popped into the shower, run over to Monomoy Coffee, and ordered two iced lattes. As she unlocked the Fisherman’s Daughter for her shift, she noticed the sky was bluer than she could ever remember seeing it. She’d call her father to see how he was feeling. Maybe that afternoon when she finished work they could take a drive up to Wellfleet.

  There wasn’t a free moment after she opened, as it turned out. A woman with three boys came in for a gift for her mother-in-law. Piper spent a long time showing her jewelry and housewares, but she couldn’t make up her mind. As Piper nervously eyed the boisterous activity level, cringing as they started a shoving match near the wave sculpture, the woman gave in. “Would you please pick something? Anything is fine. I don’t care what it costs. I need to get them out of here.” In less than five minutes she rang up and gift-wrapped an antique map.

  “I can’t thank you enough!” the woman said as she plucked a decorative pillow out of one boy’s grip and grabbed the hand of the nearest kid and dragged him toward the door.

  Then there was a steady flow of lookie-loos, as Lindy called them. A teenager who purchased some earrings. And a phone call from an artist who was confirming an order for pottery. Piper was starving and reaching for her packed lunch when the bell jingled over the door. Could she just get a second to eat?

  “Hi again!” It was the cute blonde woman from the opening party who had tried on the striped dress. />
  “Welcome back,” Piper said, shoving her salad aside. “How’d you make out with the white tunic?”

  The woman flashed a smile. “Good memory. I love it. But I’m actually here for the dress. Is it okay if I try it on one more time?”

  “Sure, come on back.” Ari had sold one the other day, and Wren only had a few in stock in mixed sizes. She hoped it was still there. “Size small, right?”

  “Right again.” Piper liked her style. She was wearing a cute tennis skirt with a denim jacket. Her red Tory Burch bag was a nice pop of color.

  “Love the bag,” Piper told her, as she flicked through the rack.

  “Thanks. Was a birthday present.”

  To her relief the small dress was still there. “Here you go.”

  The woman disappeared into the changing room and Piper went back to the counter to steal a bite of her salad. She popped back out. “What do we think? Still a good bet, or should I try something else?”

  She examined herself in the mirror, looking over her shoulder as she turned this way and that. If possible, it looked even better in daylight. “It’s a winner,” Piper said. “Shall I ring it up for you?”

  “Yes, please!”

  As Piper checked her out, the woman noticed a silver tray of rings on the counter. “Aren’t these cute.” She tried a few on and set one on top of the dress. “This, too, please.”

  She was making solid sales today, and it wasn’t even noon. Wren was going to be happy.

  The door jingled again and a shopper with two little ones came in just as Piper was wrapping the dress. “I’ll be right with you!” she called, as she tied a raffia ribbon to the bag and stuck in a sprig of dried lavender.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “I’m sure my husband will love this. Won’t you, honey?”

  The sun was streaming in from the front door creating a glare, and at first to Piper the shoppers were mere silhouettes. But then they took shape. The little girl from the opening night ran up to her mom and threw her arms around her legs. Then a little boy, with a cute mop of dark hair, followed by a man.

  “What will I like?” he asked.

  Piper looked up and froze.

  Derek stared back at her.

  “This is the cute little shop I was telling you about the other night. Remember?” The woman held up her bag. “Wait till you see this dress I got. I think we need a date night.” She grinned and pecked him on the cheek, completely unaware of the way her husband was looking at Piper, the color draining from his tanned cheeks.

  “Thanks, again!” she said.

  Piper had to tear her eyes away and force her mouth to work. “My pleasure,” she managed. Piper gripped the edge of the counter as she watched her round up their beautiful children. As Derek turned in her cheerful wake and trailed them all out.

  When the door closed behind them, Piper raced from behind the counter to the window where she strained to watch them go. They strolled up the sidewalk toward the bookstore until they were out of her sightline. Then she turned the sign to CLOSED, flicked off the lights, and sank to the floor.

  Thirty-Six

  Caleb

  Lucy was the spitting image of her mother, save her dark hair. The turn of her nose, the curious glances. The way she scurried along the tidal pool, pausing and bending to collect, inspect, explore. How much he had missed, staying away.

  The thing was, Lighthouse was just a beach. A sandy strip of land that met the sea, connecting up and down the Cape elbow to the other Chatham beaches: Hardings, Cockle Cove, Ridgevale. The water that flowed there was the same that flowed through Nantucket Sound and out into the cold dark stretch of the Atlantic. The shore and water held no memory; there was nothing to say that a single grain of sand deposited here today was ever here before. Let alone on that day.

  But stepping off the stairs onto the hot sand, the flicker of surf ahead, Caleb felt himself transported back. The crowds of happy beachgoers could not save him, any more than the blinding sun that contrasted itself in every way from the gray drizzly weather back then could not. Never mind the shrill blow on the lifeguard’s whistle when a child on a boogie board floated past the red buoy markers into the swimming section; never mind the purposeful wake of the day boats that chugged past into Nantucket Sound. Lighthouse could not look or sound more different than that day, and yet he was back there again. Knee-deep in roiling gray surf, his fingertips bashed and bleeding from the flipped Beetle Cat whose edges he gripped and tore at, trying in vain to flip it back over. The shouts of the teenage boys nearby tossing a football became the screams he heard coming from the beach in that frozen moment he jerked his head around and saw Wren on the shore, watching as he and Shannon bobbed and sunk. Screaming Piper’s name over and over.

  When Lucy grabbed his hand, he flinched, squeezed down too hard, raw with the memory of reaching for another. She yelped. Wren spun around, a mother bear. He would enjoy the sight of it, if not for the fact that he caused it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, sinking down to meet Lucy’s brown-eyed wariness. “I held on too tight, didn’t I?”

  Lucy nodded, pulling her hand away.

  “Gramps just wanted to keep you close, sweetheart. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  After a moment, she handed him her bucket and pointed to the water. “This way,” she said.

  His joints ached and his stomach was roiling all morning. He could feel the sun boring through his skin, bleaching his bones.

  “Are you all right?” Wren asked.

  But in spite of it all, he was. He cast a backward glance across the sand at the surf. When Lucy slipped her hand back in his, he did not hear the screams in the wind anymore.

  Thirty-Seven

  Shannon

  Her phone lit up with messages when she finally turned it on, around noon. Reid was gone, the note on the counter saying he’d left for the office. He was mad at her. When he was getting ready for work, she’d stumbled from the bed and made it just in time to the toilet before retching up the remains of last night. When she came out, he glanced at her with disgust before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

  She scrolled through her messages, wondering if he’d reached out. Feeling okay? Ellis texted. Sorry we missed a spin on the dance floor but don’t sweat it. Reid and I had you out of there before anyone really saw.

  The sign of a good friend. Informing you of damage-control efforts, first and foremost.

  Another was from Lindy: You disappeared last night. Did you have fun? Well, thankfully she seemed to have missed all of her daughter’s fun. At least Wren had not informed her of the details.

  Wren. She needed to call Wren.

  • • •

  Downstairs in the kitchen she found the girls standing in front of the open fridge as if they were shoe shopping. “You sure slept late,” Avery said. She held a cheese stick between her fingers like a cigarette. Her hair was combed back in a neat ponytail, and she was dressed up in one of her pink Lily skirts.

  “Where are you off to?” Shannon asked. Her voice came out like a one-hundred-year-old man. She needed Tylenol.

  “Jenny Fromme’s birthday party, remember? It’s at one o’clock.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Though Shannon did not remember. She didn’t even recall having seen an invitation. “Do you need a ride?”

  Avery popped the rest of the cheese stick in her mouth, and Shannon’s stomach churned. “No. Mrs. Dwight is picking me up.”

  The Dwights were at the ball last night, sitting at a table from the chamber of commerce. Shannon bet Carol Dwight didn’t get carried home by her husband last night.

  “What about you?” she asked Winnie.

  Winnie was too transfixed to answer. “Your eyes are all smudged in black like a raccoon. What happened to you?”

  “Oh.” Shannon put a hand to her face. She hadn’t washed her face after the ball. “I forgot to take off my makeup last night. I’ll shower.”

  “You haven’t showered yet?”
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  “Don’t you have practice or something?” She was tiring of the inquisition.

  Winnie was still staring. “Tennis was this morning. Dad took me.”

  So that had happened, too. Shannon popped open the Tylenol bottle and threw back two. “Where’s your brother?”

  “I don’t know. In the office on the computer, I think.”

  Shannon found him exactly there, playing video games. “Hey, honey.”

  George didn’t look up. “Hi, Mom. Who’s taking me to my lesson?”

  “You have a lesson?”

  “I think so. At the club.”

  Shannon squinted at the calendar over her desk. Crap. So he did. “It’s at two o’clock.” It was only twelve-thirty. There was plenty of time. “I’m going to go shower and then I’ll make you some lunch before your lesson, okay?”

  “You didn’t shower yet?”

  • • •

  As soon as Avery was off with Mrs. Dwight (who was the picture of health and non-hangover-ness—Shannon knew because this perky mom actually got out of the car, with her daughter, and knocked on the door to say hello), Shannon fixed the kids sandwiches. Just opening the fridge made her stomach reel. As she folded slices of deli meat onto bread, she felt another wave of nausea. There was no way to get through the day like this. While retrieving the jar of mayonnaise she saw the jar of horseradish. Next to it was a jar of olives. Suddenly the thing she craved more than anything was a zesty Bloody Mary. Did they have a lemon? She found one in the fruit bowl. She’d tried the Tylenol and the water. What was wrong with a little hair of the dog? She juiced the lemon and opened a bottle of fresh tomato juice from the pantry. A tablespoon of horseradish, a dash of Worcester sauce, olive juice. She sprinkled the rim of her glass in Old Bay, filled it with ice and dumped in the ingredients. Grey Goose from the freezer—a few glugs should do it. Shannon never measured. A slice of celery. Nirvana! Who would’ve thought an acidic and zesty cocktail could be the balm to a ringer of a hangover.