Trey had begun to flag about halfway through
his peanut butter and honey sandwich, and now he was leaning on
Luca’s arm, a box of apple juice drooping in his hands. Feeling a
kind of happiness that seemed deeper than contentment, Sabina
lifted her bottle of water to her mouth and looked out across the
wide, perfect, infinite expanse of the ocean. As she drank, though,
she thought she saw something. Closing her bottle and setting it
aside, she pushed her sunglasses up on her head and squinted. Her
heart took on an erratic beat.
“Carlo?”
“Yeah?” He rubbed her back and leaned
in.
“Look. Is that…”
Two large, dark triangles were coming toward
them. Not speedily, but steadily. No—three. A third fin breached
the surface.
“Shit. Yeah. Luc, grab hold of Trey. They’re
big. Shit.”
“Is it…are we…Carlo!” But Carlo had stepped
away, back to the controls.
Luca was standing up now, a re-energized
Trey in his arms. “It’s fine, hon. Swimming in a group like that,
they’re not predators. Huge guys, though. Gotta be baskers.”
“Daddy!! Daddy! Look!” Trey was pointing
emphatically, drawing his arm back and hurling it forward.
“Look!”
“I know, pal. Big sharks.” He turned to
Sabina, who was still trying to understand if they were about to be
extras in a horror movie. “Basking sharks are bigger than Great
Whites. But they’re passive feeders—plankton eaters. They don’t
hunt. They’re social, though, so sometimes they mistake boats for
brothers and give ‘em a bump. Capsize is all we have to worry
about.”
That seemed like plenty to Sabina, but Luca
had let Trey down and had hooked one meaty fist through the webbing
on his little life vest. He was letting Trey lean over the side of
the boat, and Carlo was letting him let him, so Sabina hooked her
arm around the railing and tried not to be the silly girl in a
frenzy while all the boys were enjoying the nature show.
The sharks swam very near the starboard side
of the boat, one of them brushing it broadside just enough to make
it rock. Trey was nearly psychotic with glee. “Daddy, THREE SHARKS.
LOOK HOW BIG!”
“I know, pal! How awesome is that?” Carlo
turned to his brother. “That big one’s at least 30 foot. You
think?”
Thirty feet was longer than the boat they
were on. Sabina held on a little more tightly.
“Yeah. At least.” The sharks swam off, and
then, one by one, their fins disappeared. Luca laughed. “Damn. That
was wicked cool.”
Trey sat down, his face blazing with light.
“It’s like the ocean gave me a birthday. Except my birthday’s not
till Thursday. But still, it’s like a birthday!” He turned to
Sabina. “Ms. Bina, did you see? Big triangles, just like I
said!”
“I did! I think that was the best thing I’ve
seen ever.”
“ME TOO!” He leapt up and ran across the
boat to fall into her arms. He was hugging her. “I’m glad you were
here! You’re pretty and nice and I want you to see the best thing,
too!”
Overwhelmed by every conceivable happy
feeling, Sabina hugged him back and tried not to cry.
Trey talked about the sharks to
everyone—workers at the harbor; the checker at Corti’s Market when
they stopped in to pick up some meat, booze, and other cookout
essentials; and to his aunts and uncles and Pop-Pop nonstop. He’d
been looking for sharks since May, and finally, in August, he’d hit
the jackpot. Carlo personally credited Bina. They probably would
have seen them if she hadn’t been there, but then again, they
probably wouldn’t have been out there without her. And, anyway, he
was just in the mood to credit her with every good thing in his
life at the moment.
He’d invited Luca on the boat with them
because he needed a chaperone. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able
keep his hands off her, even in front of Trey.
Though almost nothing in his life had
changed—he and Trey were still living in a glorified motel, Peter
was still barely speaking to him and thinking seriously of backing
out of the business—everything had changed. Because Bina was ready.
And she really was. Though she was the same woman he’d met at the
symphony, and again on the beach, she was different, too. Free and
light. Funny and unreserved. And happy. She glowed with it.
Part of him was impatient, wanted to whisk
her off and get married right the fuck now. Wanted to just get his
life started again already. But he kept that part tethered and let
sense have some sway. Slow was better. Slow was good. Slow could be
wonderful. He felt like he could focus better now on the parts of
his life—most of his life—that were still crumbling into loose
rocks at his feet, now that Bina was with him.
And Trey, too. Trey was better just being in
the Cove. More his old self. He’d been beside himself when Carlo
had brought Bina back to the house late that morning, and Carlo
realized how attached they’d both become to each other in that
first month. She’d been right to break away and start a life that
was just hers, but it was good to have her back.
He wasn’t sure how to talk to Trey about
Bina now—about who she was to them. He wasn’t sure yet what to call
who she was to them. He knew, though, that he didn’t want to sleep
without her tonight, so he’d have to figure out something to tell
his boy. Something that wasn’t a fiction but wasn’t more truth than
he could handle.
For now, though, Carlo wanted simply to
enjoy the last part of this fantastic day. Once back on the dock,
he and Luca had both made some calls, and, after the trip to the
market, they’d descended on Carmen’s place, ready to make a night
of it.
Make a night of it they did. With the
haywire events at the beginning of this summer, and with Bina
needing distance, Carlo and Trey hadn’t been back to Quiet Cove
since the Fourth of July. More than a month—longer than usual even
outside the summer months, and insanely long during the summer,
when they normally spent at least every weekend and a few full
weeks at the beach. Not only the loss of the loft but loss of this
home—of days like they’d just spent, nights like this—had taken a
toll on them both.
Carlo Sr. and John grilled pork tenderloins.
For the rest of the impromptu cookout, they’d bought a pasta salad
and a couple of big loaves of bread from the market. And booze—wine
and beer, and Luca had grabbed a bottle of scotch. Carmen didn’t
keep much liquor in her house. Of all of them, even including
little Rosa, Carmen was the lightest drinker.
John had a fire started in the fire pit
before he’d even taken a beer, and by the time everyone had eaten
and the sun had gone down, it was ablaze, lighting the stretch of
Carmen’s beach with a warm, orange glow.
His belly full and a glass of scotch in his
hand, Carlo sat at the fire and watched his family.
Trey, finally talked out, had fallen asleep
on a blanket in the sand, curled into the furry warmth of Elsa’s
side. After he’d fallen asleep, the dog had shifted so that she was
practically spooning him. That beast loved her baby.
Their father had fallen asleep, too, and was
snoring in his Adirondack chair, his arms crossed over his
belly.
Joey and Luca were having a muttered
conversation just out of the reach of the firelight. Joey’s jaw was
still wired shut. He’d spent most of the evening drinking his
dinner out of beer cans, and he’d had gotten drunk and whiny
surprisingly fast. Carlo wondered if he was still taking the pain
meds he’d gotten at the ER—or if he’d gotten more. He’d said
something shitty to Rosa about her going back to college without a
boyfriend and had made their baby sister cry and stomp off. Luca
had reached out and knocked him a good one, while Carmen had gone
after Rosa. Now Rosa was back and looked fine, but Carmen and Bina
had gone inside the cottage with her, ostensibly to clean up. And
Luca had dragged Joey off for a man-to-man.
Normally, that would have been Carlo’s job.
But Carlo was not feeling much love for his youngest brother right
now, and he wasn’t in the mood to straighten him out, not unless it
included a beating. Joey had always been a goofball, the one to get
in the stupid kind of trouble. And Joey and Rosa were the only
siblings who’d ever really fought as a way of life, who actually
didn’t like each other very much. But lately he was getting into
the dangerous, idiotic kind of trouble, and he was being a full-on
shithead to Rosa and everybody else.
“You working on your psychic powers? If you
are, I’ll grab my phone.” John, sitting in the chair next to his,
had leaned over.
“What?”
“You’re staring over at Joe like you’re
trying to beat him down with the power of your brain. If you make
it happen, that’s YouTube gold, big brother.”
Carlo laughed. “Just thinking what an ass
he’s becoming.”
“Yeah. Give him a break, though. He’s got
some shit to work out.”
Carlo turned in his chair and looked hard at
John. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“Nothing you don’t know about. That’s not
what I mean. But…haven’t you ever thought that there’s almost two
different sets of us?”
Carlo had no idea what John meant. “Gotta
give me more than that, John-O.”
“Okay. Look. You and Carm and Luc—you were
all out of the house when Mom died. I mean, you and Carm came back,
but still. You got to have her all the way until you were on your
own. I was still home, but I was nineteen and had my own thing. Joe
and Rosie? They were the only ones who were still just kids. And
Pop shut down for, like, a couple of years, so he wasn’t much good.
And when he was paying attention again, you and Carm went back to
your lives. Which you should have. I just, I don’t know—I see that
it makes them different from us. A little. You don’t see it? The
way that Joey is such a brat and Rosie’s such a princess? It’s like
they’re younger than us.”
“They
are
younger than us, dude.”
“You know what I mean. They’re younger than
we were at that age. Like they lost time when Mom died, or
something. What—regressed? Is that right?”
Carlo looked across the fire again and saw
Luca hugging Joey. He thought about what John was saying. Had he
and Carmen left again before their father was ready to finish
raising Joey and Rosa? He resented the guilt that question incited
in him. “Carm and I took care of them. We were here. Shit, Carm
blew up her whole life to do it.”
“I know, man. You guys held us all together.
But maybe there’s a difference between being taken care of and
being parented. Being
mothered
. You know?”
Instead of bringing Joey back to the fire,
it looked like Luca was taking him away—maybe home. Probably a good
thing. “He’s twenty-five, John. Mom’s been dead eleven years. Not
sure how much ‘my mom died’ still works as an excuse for being a
self-absorbed, thick-headed asshole.”
John shrugged and leaned over to the nearest
cooler for a fresh beer. He tossed one to Carlo, too. “Okay. Just
think about it a little. Don’t give up on him just yet. Pop already
has, and he’s taking it hard.”
That, too, was news, but not surprising.
“Because of the Uncles?”
“Yeah. When he saw Joe with his face all
turned to mush, Pop lost his shit. He’ll still talk to him, makes
nice at Mass and at Sunday dinner, but he treats him like he’s just
some guy he knows. Just like you’re doing.” John shook his head.
“Hey—have you heard from the Uncles?”
“No—should I have?”
“I don’t know. Joe said Uncle Ben wasn’t
happy with the way that whole scene went down. I just wondered if
that blew back on you. I guess not—Luc hasn’t heard, either.”
The thought that Uncle Ben’s anger would
‘blow back’ on him went some distance toward making this great
night not so great. In fact, everything about Joey was fucking with
his good mood. “Fuck.”
“Don’t sweat it, man. It’s been weeks. You’d
have heard if you were having a problem. Right?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Carlo was saved from having
to talk more about that shitty topic when Bina came back out of
Carmen’s cottage. She was wearing one of Carmen’s hoodies over her
bathing suit and skirt thing. Just that change made her look wildly
different and completely wonderful. Sweet—like a coed. She’d put on
that fucking award-winning, epic, fantasy-fodder bathing suit at
the house before they’d gone sailing, and she’d left her clothes
there. After the sun went down, she’d gotten cold.
He looked over at Trey and Elsa, sleeping on
the beach, and he stood and went to Bina, taking her hands in his.
“Let’s go home. The kid needs a bed.”
“Home?” Bina’s expression was cautious and
curious.
“To the house.” He realized he’d made a huge
presumption. “Will you stay the night?”
“Carlo—I…I’m not ready to give up so fast
what I’ve found.”
He dropped her hands. His great day was
taking some hard hits tonight. “What do you mean?”
“I want to live where I live now. That’s my
home right now. To be on my own a little like that is a good thing
for me, I think.”
She was right. And he’d need to talk to Trey
before he woke up in the morning and found Bina there again. The
summer had already been too confusing for him. But the thought of
ever sleeping without her in his arms again felt bleak. “We have a
lot to figure out, I guess.”