Rocky Point Reunion (16 page)

“You have more friends than I knew,” she said.

“Indeed. And I think everyone has called here today,” he said. “Never been on the phone so much.”

She grinned. “Good for them all. I heard about the escort service to the hospital.”

“Yeah, didn't want to bother those guys, but they insisted. Walt's taking me tomorrow.”

“I could take you.”

“You have your work, he's retired. Besides, more fun to talk about fishing than watch you worry.”

“I'm not worried. Your care is in the hands of God.
I'm going with whatever He decides.” She reached out her hand. “Just always remember I love you, Dad. If you go to your final home now, I'll be along after a while.”

“Don't make it too soon, cupcake. Enjoy the life God has planned for you on earth. You might even consider taking up with that Zack Kincaid again. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“Did you know he's heading back to Europe for another race?” she asked, startled with her father's about-face. “No. When?”

“In a couple of weeks, I think. He might not come back.” She wanted people to argue with her, to convince her Zack would return.

“Is that what he says? What about this driving course he bent my ear about yesterday?”

“Something to do, I guess. If he doesn't return, Sean's the only one who's going to be upset.” And her. Again.

“Zack said he's not coming back?” her father asked for clarification.

She sighed softly and shook her head. “He insisted he'll be back. Then he got all huffy and said he wouldn't be telling me or anyone else that anymore. I'm not the only one with doubts.”

“A man's word is his bond. If he says he'll be back, he'll return,” her father said.

“Maybe.” She couldn't help remembering he'd said he'd marry her and look what had happened. Which reminded her…

“We're having a prewedding party to sample the hors d'oeuvres I'm planning for the wedding on Saturday. Remember I did that with Kristin Jones's wedding? It'll give me a good idea of what's the best way to coordinate things and Gillian a chance to decide on the menu,” she told her dad.

“You doing the cake, too?”

“Nope, Sunshine Bakery is doing that.”

“Same as yours,” her dad said.

Her smile was bittersweet. “Yes, only I don't think Joe's going to flit away. He's really in love with her—it's fun to see.”

“Tell me what you're planning,” he said.

The meal passed swiftly with Marcie talking about stuffed mushrooms, crab cakes and other delicacies Gillian wanted. Her dad looked tired, so Marcie got up to leave, admonishing her dad to get some rest.

When Marcie returned to her apartment, she had messages waiting on her answering machine. Listening to them, she was pleased to hear the offers of help from friends, including Gillian. Smiling, she called her back. After asking about her dad, Gillian brought up the sampling party.

“Should we have it at Joe's or at my place?” Gillian asked.

“Your call. Both kitchens offer lots of space for prep work.”

“And the Cabot sisters won't mind working from my kitchen?”

“Theirs is probably just as old-fashioned. I thought you were going to get new appliances.”

“One day. But I'm getting used to the old gas range. So, does Saturday still work? I know if something comes up with your dad, you might have to bow out.”

“I think we'll be fine. The sisters are the best cooks and I'm letting them do most of the work. But I stuff the mushrooms.”

Gillian laughed. “Did you see Zack today?”

“Yes, before class.” Marcie went on alert. “Why?”

“I just wondered. If I weren't already totally in love with Joe, I think I'd find Zack an intriguing man.”

“He can be,” Marcie agreed. To change the subject she began speaking about Vacation Bible School and how much Jenny was looking forward to having Gillian teach their grade. She didn't want her friend painting the man in a favorable light. She needed to keep her distance, even when her heart yearned to talk to him, to hear his strong voice reassure her everything would be all right. To believe she could lean on him as he'd suggested.

She had no sooner hung up from talking with Gillian, than Zack called.

“How're you holding up?” he asked.

“Better than I would have thought. Dad's amazing. He's going along like everything's going to be fine.”

“It probably is. Modern medicine can do wonders. I think his spirits are high, which goes a long way.”

“I guess so.”

“I just talked with Brett Spencer, remember him?” Zack asked.

“Sure, I see him occasionally. How's he doing?” Brett had been in high school with them. He'd gone on to college and worked in banking, as she remembered. He no longer lived in Rocky Point, but visited his parents often.

“Fine. I was surprised to hear from him, though we've kept in touch a bit over the years. He actually came to one of my races when I was in Italy about four years ago. The thing is, he invited me and you to go sailing with him. He has a new boat and apparently wants to show it off to everyone he knows.”

“I can't go,” was her first response.

“Why not? You don't even know when or where.”

“With my father so sick, how can I take off and go
sailing?” Besides, it would be more like a date with Zack and she had to stand firm in her resolve to stay away from him.

“I'm sure your dad doesn't want you to put your life on hold while he awaits a transplant.”

She knew that Zack was totally right. But how could she say she couldn't go for the real reason—she was afraid to fall in love with him?

“It'll do you good and help you forget some of the worry about the situation,” he said softly.

Indecision. She'd love to clear her mind and skim across the waves in a sailboat. She'd love to spend time with Zack, only—dare she waver?

“Come on, Marcie, it's just a couple of old friends visiting—on a sailboat. He invited us for next Saturday.”

“I need to work on Gillian's reception menu.”

“That tasting's not until the week after. You can spare a day. Say yes.”

Oh, Father God, this is so hard. I do want to go. I'd love to feel carefree for one afternoon, forget all the things coming at me now. Should I go?

Zack didn't press her, as if he knew she would be praying about it. Finally, she decided to go.

“Okay. Should I pack lunch or something?” Her spirits rose. For this short time she was going to forget the situation and enjoy her afternoon with Zack and his friend.

“He said it's all taken care of. Bring your bathing suit—we might go swimming.”

“I don't think so, that water's too cold for me.”

“We used to love swimming at Carlisle Beach when we were younger.”

“I remember, first we'd play in the surf and then dry out on the warm sand. It was still cold!” She smiled at the
memories. They were not hurtful, but bound the two of them together, memories of happier times. “Suit yourself.”

She
tsk
ed at his pun. “I'll wear shorts and let the rest of you hardy folks brave the water.”

“Not me. I forgot how cold the Atlantic can be. Last time I went swimming it was in the Med.”

“Umm.” Of course it was. He had lived in Europe for years. His playground would be the Mediterranean Sea, with endless white sandy beaches and warm water, not the cold North Atlantic or the rocky shoreline of Maine. But he was here now, and she was going to do her best to enjoy every moment together!

“I'll pick you up at nine-thirty,” Zack said.

“Wait, does Brett know we are not together?” He had to—hadn't he been invited to the canceled wedding? Then called to ask after her when it was off.

“I'm sure he knows.”

“So, why invite you and me?”

“Maybe he's been seeing us together and assumes we've taken up where we left off.”

“Which we're not.” She had to be clear on that.

“See you Saturday,” he responded.

Marcie wished he'd confirmed her assessment, but he had already hung up.

Just because circumstances put them together didn't mean they were falling in love again.

Except, Marcie didn't think it was
again.
She had always loved Zack. Actions spoke louder than words—why else could she not become interested in the other nice men who had asked her out? After a few dates, she always ended things, feeling it was unfair for them to develop feelings for her if she couldn't return them. She didn't want to feel
this way. She wanted to move on with her life and not long for things that could never be.

Even if Zack fell back in love with her, would the same thing happen? Would they make plans to build a life together, only for him to be lured away by the excitement of living in Europe, racing the wind? Or was he truly back for good—after the next race? She wished she knew. Really knew.

She feared there would always be one more race.

 

Saturday Marcie was more than ready for a day sailing. All week the main topic of conversation around her centered on her dad. When she visited or spoke to him on the phone, he was calm and unworried. He urged her to try to ignore the situation, which was not getting any worse, and go on with life. Finally, exasperated, Bill told her that had been one reason he hadn't told anyone—he did not want people hovering over him.

Today Marcie was going to follow her dad's orders and stop hovering over him. She was taking today just for herself. She put on a sleeveless yellow top, denim shorts and deck shoes. Grabbing a sweatshirt in case it turned cool, she headed for the living room to wait for Zack. She slathered sunscreen on her arms and legs and face. She didn't want sunburn to mar the day.

It was almost nine-thirty. She went to the window overlooking the street to watch for him. For a moment she felt like she had in high school, anticipation building as she waited to see him again. And when she did, then and now, her heart would catch and her attention would focus solely on him.

When he got out of the truck, he looked up, as if anticipating she'd be watching.

This was just an outing. A friend of his had invited
them. A break from the worries of the day. She took a breath and grabbed her sweatshirt. She would not read more into this than was warranted.

She started down the stairs just as Zack was starting up. He paused, watching her come down. She recognized the look in his eyes, the same one she had seen when she'd rushed out to meet him when they'd been dating in high school. Her heart kicked up another notch.

“Hi.” Was that breathless voice hers?

“Hi, yourself. I see you're ready.”

“It is a beautiful day and I'm looking forward to a sail.”

He fell into step with her when she reached the pavement. In only moments they were in his truck and heading for the marina.

“When was the last time you went sailing?” he asked.

“Last summer. Betsey Isleton invited a bunch of us from church to go out on her sailboat. Jody and I and Betsey were best friends in school, remember?”

“I remember Betsey. Where does she live now?”

“New York. Long Island, actually. She's a graphic designer and loves working for an ad agency.”

“Must be doing all right if she can afford a sailboat.”

“She married a pediatrician. They have two little girls and this big beautiful sailboat. They were taking a trip along the coast and stopped off in Rocky Point for a few days to visit with her parents. We had a great time, but I think her husband was overwhelmed by all the chatter.”

“Do you keep in touch with everyone from high school?” he asked.

“Well, most of our class still lives in Rocky Point, so I see them all the time.”

And you now, too,
she almost added.

They arrived at the marina and immediately spotted
Brett's sailboat. It was moored in a visitor's slip. It was sleek and elegant and larger than the rustic fishing boats berthed nearby. The only boats still in harbor were tourist boats. Those who made their living fishing had gone out in the early hours.

When they stepped aboard the boat, Brett greeted them both, introducing them to his date, Susan Galloway, his fiancée. In no time Brett backed out the boat using the engines and turned her toward the open sea. Once clear of the harbor, he cut the engine. “Now we raise the sails,” Brett said. “Remember anything from when we were kids?”

“Hey, I'm not in my dotage yet,” Zack said.

Sailing had been a sport shared by most of the high school student body when Zack had attended. There'd been P.E. classes devoted to sailing. In short order, with both Susan and Marcie pitching in, the sails filled with wind and the boat skimmed across the water, seeming to float on the surface. The sea sparkled in the sunlight, the breeze steady from the north.

“This is the fun part,” Marcie said, delighting in the carefree spirit that took hold. She could forget everything except her love of sailing.

“Going against the wind is harder,” Susan said, “but I think Brett loves the challenge.”

“What's not to love?” he called back from the wheel. Zack stood beside him, braced against the movement of the boat, legs spread a bit, arms across his chest, watching ahead.

“The work, go this way, go that way,” she teased.

“Tacking is a challenge, not work.”

The two women laughed. Marcie stretched her legs out, hoping some of the warmth from the sun would dispel the coolness of the air as she relaxed on the bench. “If I had a
boat, I'd try to get out every day,” she said, tilting her face to the sun.

Zack turned to look behind them, his gaze going to Marcie. She looked like she was enjoying herself, her eyes closed, face to the sky, a slight smile on her lips. He could stare at her all day. Especially when she seemed more relaxed than he'd seen recently.
Father God, be with Marcie. Give her the strength she needs to face the situation with her father. And with me. Guide me, please. If I have a chance, please don't let me blow it.