When the Music Stops (23 page)

“I say it’s just what we need. I haven’t had a weekend with you for a long, long time.”

h

The next morning they drove through Aberdeen and Hoquiam before turning north to Kalaloch Lodge. After they checked into their cabin, they bundled up and walked to the overlook. Wild, smoky gray mustang waves crashed against the shoreline, making conversation difficult.

“I love this beach,” Marta shouted. “Let’s head down.”

The wind blew against their bodies as they navigated the higgledy-piggledy trail cut through the wall of driftwood that lay pushed against the hill like a giant’s discarded matchsticks. They crossed the soft taupe sand, their rubber booted feet sinking out of sight.

Once they reached the open beach, the wind buffeted them again. They leaned into it and walked with their chins buried in their coat collars. The ground shook with each wave that crashed ashore.

The Kalaloch Lodge Dining Room provided a break from incoming sheets of rain and blustery wind. They sat at a small table overlooking the ocean, finishing hot drinks while watching high tide drift in to fill the estuary and merge salt water with the fresh water of Kalaloch Creek.

“This was a great idea, Mom. I’m glad we had this chance to come down. I’ve missed the ocean more than I imagined. It feels good to spend time on the beach and have you all to myself.”

Her mom inhaled deeply and poured the last of the tea into their cups. “I’m glad we came. It’s been too many years since you and I stayed here. Do you remember the time we waded into the surf looking for clams?”

Marta laughed and placed her hands over her mom’s. “I do. The water was so cold it took hours to get over the shivers. Dad made that beach fire for us and you brought down hot dogs for us to cook, but we couldn’t find any sturdy sticks, so we ate them raw.”

Her mom stretched and stood to put on her coat. “Let’s unpack and get out the cards. You need to learn to play Canasta.”

Outside, the ocean’s roar resonated through Marta’s body. The thunder of the waves vibrated as if she stood beside a track when a train passed. She helped carry in supplies and stopped to look around the cabin. Nothing had changed over the years. Two beds in one corner, two chairs, the stinky oil stove, the tiny bathroom, a basic kitchen, and her favorite spot, the kitchen nook.

After they finished dinner, Marta sat in the kitchen nook and watched the lighthouse beacon on Destruction Island cut through the fog as dusk turned to night.

Her mom sat down across from her and reached to cover Marta’s hands with her own. “We haven’t had time alone together for so long. I’m almost glad Robert couldn’t come.”

“Me too.” Marta felt the warmth of her mother’s touch and smiled. “It’s hard to believe the last time we came down with dad was over eleven years ago. Do you think of dad often?”

“Of course I do, honey. He’s an important part of my life just like Steve is for…. Do you think you and Steve will get back together?”

Marta slid her hands free, stood, and paced the cabin. “I have no idea. I feel more settled now that I’m teaching dancing, but I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. Steve needs to find a job, but he hasn’t yet, as far as I know. He expects me to drop everything and be ready to go wherever he lands, without any thought of what I want or need. It’s not fair to expect me to give up my dreams, is it?”

“No. You need to decide your own future. I know dancing is important to you and you’ve experienced a huge setback; you need to figure out what you want and need to live a happy life. If Steve’s important to you, if you love him and want to be with him, you may need to compromise.”

Marta played with a strand of hair as she spoke. “Doesn’t
he
need to compromise as well?”

“Of course. Compromise means everyone involved makes a change. Maybe he has. Wasn’t your last conversation around New Year’s? Maybe he’s come to realize that you need to figure out your next step. Have you called him lately?”

Marta curled hands into fists as she paced. “No, and he hasn’t tried to contact me.”

“A relationship is made up of two people. Both of you need to make an effort. Robert and I spend time getting caught up on changes in our lives most every time we’re together. We’re separate people, but we love each other, so we work and listen to each other. It was like that with your dad too.”

Marta shrugged and sat down. “I don’t know what I want to do, so how can I call him? I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes, you
do
know what to say. Last year you had the courage and drive to leave home and move to Billings to join the ballet company. Now you need to use that same courage to share how you feel.”

“It’s hard for me to share my feelings.”

“I know, honey, but he can’t read your mind. If you love him, you need to talk with him, ask what he thinks and help him understand your needs.”

Marta sat down on her twin bed and closed her eyes. “I know I’m not ready to give up my dream to dance again. I need to test my ankle and make that decision very soon. I also know I miss Steve, but I’m not ready to get engaged or married. But I think he is ready and wants to settle down once he lands a job. Also, I worry that if we get married, his goals and dreams will overpower mine and I’ll disappear.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to disappear.”

“Marta, honey.” Her mom rushed to sit beside her and hug her. “You won’t disappear. You’re a strong young woman. You’ve proven that over and over.”

“I’m not strong, Mom. I’m…I still take diet pills sometimes.”

Marta felt her mom’s arms tighten around her. ”Oh, Marta. No. Why?”

“They help me when I’m stressed or exhausted. That’s what Steve and I fought at New Year’s. Well, that plus he asked me to get engaged again.”

Her mom released her grasp and sat back. She wiped her own tears away. “That explains a lot. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Marta shrugged. “I was too embarrassed. I hate disappointing you. And Steve. So you see, I’m not strong, and I don’t make good decisions.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” her mom said as she reached to pat Marta’s hands. “You can make any changes you truly want. I’m hoping you’ll start by getting rid of those damn pills.”

“Me too. I admit I’ve taken a couple from one pack and thought a lot about taking more, but I haven’t taken any this past week.” Marta reached for her purse and rummaged through it. “I have been meaning to toss them out,” she said as she pulled out her stash of Slim-Eze and handed it to her mom.

Her mom pushed them away. “Don’t hand them to me, honey. You need to take care of this yourself. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you, but those pills are your responsibility.”

Marta looked at the pills. Should she keep them as a reminder of her bad decision, or toss them to get them out of her sight? She walked to the bathroom and flushed them away.

“Do you feel better now?” her mom said as Marta returned to the main room of the cabin.

Marta shrugged. “I don’t feel
better
, but I do feel relieved to tell you about them, and to toss them out. If I get all crazy and exhausted, may I come talk with you?”

Her mom smiled. “Any time. You do realize that all of us have stressful moments. It’s part of life. You need to find ways to handle stress that won’t cause you any harm.”

“What do you do, Mom?”

“I sew, play cards, and share my concerns with Robert. He’s a great listener.”

Marta took a deck of playing cards from their travel box and moved to sit in the kitchen nook. She shuffled the cards with a quick riffle and looked up. “So, how
do
you play Canasta?”

They played cards and talked until both began yawning. Then they climbed under their twin bed covers, spread their sleeping bags over the top, and lay listening to the wind drive the rain, splashing it against the windows and under the door.

In the morning they drove to Trail Four. The rain passed, so they took the forest path to the shore and stood looking at the stretch of beach below the log bridge.

“This is my favorite beach in the whole world,” Marta said. “I can’t believe any beach is this unique or beautiful.”

Her mom stood next to her. “It might be, but you have lots of years ahead of you to explore the world.”

That was true; she did have time to visit other beaches once she knew the direction she wanted her life to move. For now, she was content to step from the bridge and scramble down the outcropping of rocks.

Tiny black pebbles covered the upper beach where a hillside spring trickled into the ocean. Incoming waves crashed, then disappeared into the beach as though dropping through a sieve. A sluicing sound announced each wave’s disappearance. A quiet moment followed, then the next incoming wave repeated the sluicing.

They walked north toward the curve of the beach, then turned back when rain clouds threatened. Back at the top of the trail they sat with their feet outside the car, stomping off the sand and pebbles their boots collected during the walk, before the drive back to the cabin and another evening of cards and conversation.

h

Monday afternoon they returned to Bremerton. Marta waved and smiled as her mother drove out of the driveway on Corbett. Having the time alone with her made this a perfect Valentine’s weekend. They’d needed time since their last togetherness happened in Billings while Marta was recovering from her injury. The stress she felt at being in leg cast after leg cast didn’t allow them to share quality time, at least from Marta’s point of view. Thank heavens that event in her life ended almost a year ago.

h

The remodel moved closer to completion every day. By next week the storage shelves and the upstairs bathroom would be finished. After a final inspection by the bank, the studio would belong to Lindsay and Lieutenant Commander Adam Holland. They’d requested a loan for the entire building including the warped stairs and the weeping windows. Amid a difficult pregnancy, this realization of their dream excited everyone.

The celebration promised to be remembered for years. Students, their families, and community guests were invited to the party scheduled for three on Sunday afternoon, March 8th. The studio rooms looked festive. Marta and her mom worked into the night on Saturday hanging a rainbow assortment of balloons and streamers on doorways, around windows, and on the walls.

Music hosted by the local radio station greeted every visitor and dancer’s family as they entered. The A&P donated cookies and napkins. Kitsap Sporting Goods printed a “reserved parking” sign for Lindsay, and Callow Drug brought a gift basket of aspirin, Bandaids, and Ace bandages. McGavin’s bakery sent a gigantic ”Welcome Dancers” cake decorated with black musical notes and pink
pointe
shoes. They also sent along fliers for free cookies to dancers who stopped in during March while wearing their dance costume or lesson attire. A dozen other local businesses sent cards, flowers, and promotional handouts to welcome Lindsay as the newest Callow building owner.

Hour after hour the building vibrated with music and activity. Dance studio students performed, then rejoined their families to explore the normally off-limits nooks and crannies. Upstairs, Marta supervised dance exploration by the guests. She invited everyone to take turns dancing with scarves and ribbons and laughed as they circled, moving to classical waltzes and current hits. One parent took 8mm home movies, promising to share them with the studio after they edited their film.

When the event ended at 7:30, the studio enrollment had increased by a dozen new families, and the one hundred dance studio brochures had been eagerly snatched up by prospective dancers. After a quick clean-up, Lindsay, Adam, Robert, Elle, and Marta turned off the studio lights and sat in the newly de-cluttered office with their shoes off.

“Quite a party,” Lindsay said as she propped her feet up on an empty chair. “I’m amazed at the turnout. Thanks to all of you for making this evening possible. I’m so sick of bed rest. Coming here tonight gave me a wonderful chance to see everyone and meet new people.”

“I knew Lindsay worked hard,” Adam, her husband, said, “but this is amazing. I’m glad we’re staying here to raise our family.” He rubbed Lindsay’s bulging front side. “Not long now.”

Lindsay struggled to stand. “I’m counting the days. I’m grateful to Elle and Marta for keeping things running smoothly since Thanksgiving. All the painting and working around the remodel, my being gone.” Lindsay rubbed her eyes, blinked, and sniffed. “Thank you. This was wonderful; you’re both wonderful.”

“Bremerton needs this studio,” Marta’s mom said and hugged Lindsay. “Considering the trouble getting loans these days, this is a miracle.”

“I’m happy you two are staying around. That’s some of the best news I’ve heard all week. Now, if you ever want to buy into the studio, I’d gladly share the headaches with you.”

Everyone laughed.

Marta’s mom shook her head. “There’s no way we’d ever pull off a loan. Who’d loan to a widow and a nineteen-year-old dancer?”

Robert waved his hand. “Hold on, Elle. Remember, you’re about to become Mrs. Marsden so we’ll be sharing our resources. Besides, who wouldn’t help a beautiful woman and her lovely dancer daughter?”