Mike winked at Shelly, nodded to the rest of the table, then walked across the deck where he joined a woman and another couple.
“One of your pals?” Rory teased Daria.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Exactly,” she said. “Fellow EMT.”
They ordered their dinners. At first Zack said he wanted nothing to eat, but Shelly insisted he try the crab cakes.
“They’re the best in the universe,” she said, and Zack ordered them, probably to stop Shelly from bugging him.
Conversation was superficial but swift. Ted wanted to talk about fishing and football, Ellen, about the shopping spree she had planned for the following day. Grace suggested shops Ellen might try farther south. Rory and Daria joined in the chatter wherever they could, but Rory was keenly aware of Zack’s silence. He wished there was some way he could bring his son into the conversation without it looking obvious and contrived, thereby earning Zack’s wrath.
Shelly suddenly whispered something to Zack, and Rory realized that he was not the only person at this table aware of the boy’s shyness amidst the adults. She whispered again, and a smile crossed Zack’s lips. He whispered something back to her, and she giggled. The adult conversation still surged across the table, but Rory listened in on Shelly and Zack to the best of his ability.
“Which one?” Shelly asked Zack.
“Kara,” Zack said.
“She is so cute,” Shelly said.
“Yeah,” Zack said.
“Did you have a girlfriend in California?” Shelly asked.
Rory leaned a little closer to his son, curious to hear his answer.
“A couple,” Zack said. He looked at Rory, letting him know he was on to his snooping, then turned his back on his father and continued talking with Shelly in private. There were more giggles and, on Zack’s part, some outright laughter. Rory smiled to himself, grateful to Shelly. She knew exactly what she was doing, he thought. She’d seen Zack’s discomfort and made the effort to bring him out of his shell.
Their food was served, and halfway through the meal, Shelly asked Zack, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Have you gone to watch the hang gliders yet?”
“Yeah,” Zack said, “and my dad and I are going to take a hang-gliding lesson soon.” He glanced at Rory. “Right?” he asked.
“Right,” Rory said, pleased to have a chance to draw Shelly and Zack’s private chat into the conversation of the adults. “We watched one of the classes. It looked pretty easy.”
“Well,” Ellen said to Rory, “I hope your will is up-to-date.”
“Oh,” Shelly said, “I think it would be wonderful. I always wanted to do it, but I was afraid to, because I might have a seizure. But Father Sean hang-glides all the time.”
“Father Sean?” Zack asked. “Is that a priest?”
“Yup,” Shelly said.
“A priest who hang-glides?” Zack asked in amazement.
“I hope Father Macy’s piloting skills are better than his preaching skills,” Ellen said.
The insult seemed to go over Shelly’s head. “He’s been gliding ever since I can remember,” she said. “And he even won a contest a few years ago. Right, Daria?” She looked at her sister for confirmation.
“That’s right,” Daria said. “He won the summer competition. It’s held every year. The next one’s in a few weeks, and I bet he’ll be in it again.”
“If it wasn’t for Father Sean,” Shelly said, “I wouldn’t be sitting here with you all today.”
Ellen laughed. “No,” she said. “You’d probably be sitting with a nice, normal family somewhere. Maybe even a wealthy family. Look what you missed out on.”
“Ellen,” Ted said in a voice too small for his size. “Shelly has a perfectly fine family.”
“Why wouldn’t you be sitting here?” Zack asked Shelly. “What did Father Sean or Macy or whoever he is have to do with it?”
“Sean Macy—the priest—helped my parents adopt Shelly when she was an infant,” Daria explained. “So we all have a special place in our hearts for him.”
“Dad said Daria found you on the beach when you were a baby,” Zack said to Shelly.
“Yes, but I don’t remember it.”
Rory’s mind drifted for a moment. Maybe he should have a talk with Sean Macy, since he’d been involved in Shelly’s adoption. He wouldn’t know anything about Shelly’s parentage, of course, but still, it would be interesting to hear his memories of that time. And the priest certainly sounded human and approachable.
Grace reached for her water glass, and Rory noticed that her fingers were trembling.
He leaned close to her, whispering, “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she whispered back, then suddenly looked across the table at Shelly. “Do you see what I have on?” she asked, touching her fingers to her throat, and Rory leaned forward to see. Grace was wearing a shell necklace, probably one of Shelly’s, and he was surprised. She had said nothing to him about it.
“I made that,” Shelly said.
“Yes, I bought it at the Shell Seeker, that little store in South Nag’s Head,” Grace said. “How did you ever make it? It’s so delicate.”
“Oh, it’s easy, once you know how,” Shelly said. “It looks very nice on you.” She turned suddenly to Zack. “Have you gone crabbing yet? Your father and Daria went crabbing the other day. They said they used to go all the time when they were kids.”
Rory was certain Shelly hadn’t meant to be rude, but she’d practically cut Grace off midsentence. He felt Grace grow quiet at his side. He reached for her hand beneath the table, and was relieved when she allowed him to take it. Their relationship had been platonic so far. They had seen each other several times, but only during daytime hours, which didn’t lend themselves to any sort of physical intimacy. They’d spoken on the phone, but Grace was always straightforward, simply wanting to make plans rather than get into prolonged conversations. And so far, she had vetoed the idea of him coming down to Rodanthe to see her, saying she preferred coming up to Kill Devil Hills. Grace always seemed to keep her distance from him, physically and emotionally. He’d been ready for rejection when he took her hand and was pleased she hadn’t balked.
The waitress cleared away their dishes, then took their dessert orders. Grace ordered nothing.
“God, Daria could sure beat you at swimming, couldn’t she?” Ellen was speaking to Rory, and he turned his attention to her.
“I let her win,” he said simply.
Daria smiled at him. “We’ll have to have a rematch,” she said.
“We’ll see,” he said. He’d worked out with her at the athletic club once this past week and feared she could probably still beat him.
“Do you remember that time,” Ellen continued, “when Daria stuffed toilet paper in her bathing-suit top and it got wet and started coming out in the water?”
Zack laughed at that, and Daria groaned. “I tried to forget that, Ellen,” she said.
“I don’t remember it at all,” Rory said.
“That’s because you were ignoring me by then,” Daria said.
He did remember the time Chloe lost her entire bathing-suit top when she was bodysurfing, though. He was about to mention that, but then wondered if it was in poor taste to tell such a story about a nun.
“Daria said you’ve got some crazy notion that you can uncover the secrets to Shelly’s past,” Ellen said.
“Well, I’m trying to, anyway,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I met with the police detective who covered Shelly’s case this afternoon.” He caught Daria’s dark look, and knew he probably shouldn’t talk about this with her present. She still disapproved, but it was hard for him to keep quiet about the topic when it was so much on his mind, and Ellen had given him the invitation to speak.
“What did he say?” Grace asked. “What were the police able to find out back then?”
The waitress brought their desserts, and Rory leaned back to let her set his chocolate mousse on the table in
front of him. Grace let go of his hand then, and took a sip from her water glass.
“Not a whole lot, I’m afraid.” Rory looked apologetically at Shelly. “The detective I spoke with thinks that Shelly’s mother was probably one of two teenage girls who had been reported missing at that time and who were never found.”
“It seems strange that no one saw what happened on the beach that morning,” Grace said. “Aren’t people usually out early to beach-comb or watch the sunrise?”
“There’d been a huge storm the day before,” Daria said. “No one had been on the beach for at least twenty-four hours. I think I was the first person out there. Or, at least, the second.”
Ted leaned toward Rory, his soft facial features suddenly creased with concern. “Chloe and Daria think you should leave the past alone,” he said quietly, obviously not wanting Shelly to hear. “You shouldn’t disrupt Shelly’s life.”
Ellen dismissed her husband with a wave of her hand. “Let Rory find out for himself that it’s pointless,” she said. “The police did a thorough investigation back when Shelly was found and they didn’t come up with a thing. Nobody is going to find anything twenty-some years later.” She looked at Rory, false contrition in her eyes. “Sorry, Rory. I just think you’re on a wild-goose chase.”
“Could be,” he admitted, more to ease the tension than to agree with her.
A pager beeped on the other side of the deck, and although the sound was barely audible where they were sitting, Daria jumped. She looked across the deck, and Rory saw her friend, Mike, raise a small cell phone to his ear. Daria pretended to return her attention to her dessert, but Rory knew she was still focused on Mike, and he wondered if she was interested in him as more than a “pal.”
Mike got up from his table and walked directly across the deck to Daria. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to her ear, but he spoke loudly enough to be heard across the table. “There’s an accident on 158, around milepost 8,” he said. “Two cars and a bicycle. Come with me.”
Daria shook her head.
“We’re short, Daria,” Mike sounded insistent. The skin on Daria’s shoulders was white from the pressure of his fingertips. “Please,” he said. “We need you.”
She shook her head wordlessly, her gaze on her key-lime pie, and Mike straightened up and left the restaurant. No one else had stopped talking, and a moment later, Daria raised her head again, smiling, joining in the conversation once more. Everyone chattered as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, and Rory guessed he was the only person at the table to notice the tears in Daria’s eyes.
18
DARIA PULLED INTO THE SEA SHANTY DRIVEWAY AROUND ten that night, a good hour after leaving the restaurant. She’d sent Shelly home with Ellen and Ted and driven to milepost 8 and the scene of the fiery, deadly accident. She couldn’t say what drew her there. Perhaps she thought she would be able to help, but that was not the case. Oh, they needed her help, all right. But she’d merely lurked around the edge of the scene, just like the other curious onlookers, unable to make herself walk over to the ambulance to help her former EMTs deal with the havoc. The sense of being frozen in place, concealed by darkness, made her feel cowardly and useless, and she’d driven home in tears.
Getting out of her car, she was surprised to see Rory sitting alone on the front steps of the Sea Shanty. Her heart filled at the sight of him. She’d figured he would still be with Grace. He’d been so solicitous of her during dinner. Walking toward him, she hoped it was too dark for him to tell she’d been crying.
“Hi there,” she said, making her voice light and cheerful. She sat down next to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to get home,” he said.
“Oh,” she said, pleased. “Well, here I am.”
“Ellen said you went to check on that accident,” he said.
“Yeah, I did. One car swerved to avoid a cyclist and crashed into another car. The cyclist was hit, anyway. I think someone in one of the cars was killed. Both cars were on fire.” She recounted the scene in a flat tone to avoid feeling anything as she spoke.
Rory winced. “Sounds horrible,” he said.
“It was.” She knew she’d have another of her nightmares that night. Even though she’d hung back, even though she was not even certain if the cyclist was male or female, she knew the pilot would be back to haunt her.
“I really admire you,” Rory said. “I can’t imagine doing that sort of work. And the fact that you do it on a volunteer basis makes it even more impressive.”
“Did it,” she said. She didn’t deserve the credit he was giving her. “I wasn’t there to help. I only watched.”
“I don’t understand,” Rory said. “It was obvious you were upset when your friend, Mike, tried to persuade you to go with him. I figured you and he had some sort of…” His voice trailed off.
It took her a moment to understand, and she laughed. “Mike? No. Not at all.”
“Then what was holding you back?” he asked. “And if you went over to the accident, why didn’t you help?”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “And not very interesting.” She needed a change of topic. “So, how was your evening?” she asked.
Rory hesitated, as if deciding whether to allow her this abrupt switch in the conversation. Then he gave in.
“Well, I have to say I don’t really understand Grace,” he said. “She seems to want to be with me, yet she doesn’t seem particularly interested in me…in a romantic sense, if you know what I mean.”
Daria tried to mask her relief. “No, I’m not sure what you mean.” She wanted to hear more.
“Well, she seems pleased when I call her. She’s pleased when I ask her to do things with me. But she doesn’t…I don’t get the impression she wants to be in a relationship. Not with me, at any rate. Tonight at dinner was the first time I’ve even held her hand.”
“You’re kidding,” Daria said.
“No, I’m not. And when I brought her back to Poll-Rory, she darted out of the car before I could attempt to…get any closer. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”
“Not really,” Daria said. What she did think was that Grace was completely out of her mind. “Her marriage just ended. She probably needs some time to get used to the idea of being with someone else.”
“Maybe,” Rory said. “It’s just not what I’m used to. Women usually come on to me. I don’t mean that as a brag. I know it’s because of my celebrity, not necessarily because of who I am as a person. But that just makes Grace more interesting to me. She’s so…fragile. Did you pick that up?”
She had, indeed. She’d noticed a tremor in Grace’s hands, and a couple of times, in her voice, as well. It was the first time she’d really seen Grace up close, and she was truly beautiful, in a pale sort of way.
“Yes, I did, Mr. Caretaker,” she said. “Did you ever ask her about her illness?”
“No. I figure she’ll tell me when she’s ready to.”
“You two need to talk,” she said. “It doesn’t sound like there’s much communication going on between you.”
Rory didn’t answer. He looked down at his hands, as if studying them in the Sea Shanty’s porch light. Daria wanted to touch one of them, to slip her fingertips beneath his palm and trace a line up his wrist.
“Zack seemed to hit it off with Shelly,” Rory said suddenly.
“He did,” Daria agreed.
“Shelly was so good with him,” Rory said. “As soon as we got home, though, he and Kara took off for the miniature-golf course.” He shook his head. “The two of them worry me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t now. Kara looks a little fast to me.”
Daria laughed. “What does a fast girl look like?” she asked.
“Oh, you know. The way she dresses. The pierced belly button. Too much blond in her hair. Too much eye makeup.”
“Do you think Zack is still a virgin?”
Rory looke
d at her with wide-eyed disbelief. “Of course,” he said. “He’s only fifteen. Give me a break.”
“Fifteen-year-olds are a lot different than when we were kids,” Daria said.
Rory said nothing.
“Have you talked to him about it?” Daria asked. “I mean, do you ever have frank, father-son talks?”
“I wish.” Rory groaned, lowering his head to his hands. “I guess I need to give him the sex-and-responsibility talk. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get into that yet. He and I can’t even talk about what to have for dinner, much less sex.”
“You probably need to talk with him while you’re doing some activity together. You know how men are more comfortable relating through sports or whatever.”
“Is that how you are, since you hang out with guys all the time?”
“I am still a female,” she said, thoroughly insulted.
He smiled at her. “I’ve noticed that,” he said. “Especially tonight at the restaurant. You clean up good.”
“Thanks,” she said wryly. She figured that might be the best compliment she would get out of him.
“You raised Shelly,” Rory said. “Was she ever rebellious? Did you have any problems with her when she was Zack’s age?”
“Shelly was easy,” Daria said. “The only time she and I ever butted heads was when I made her break up with those guys several years ago. She screamed at me. She’d cry and mope. But that was about it for Shelly’s rebellion.”
Headlights turned into the cul-de-sac, and they watched a car approach the Sea Shanty.
“It’s Chloe,” Daria said. “She must have stayed late at St. Esther’s.”
Chloe pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Daria and Rory watched her approach the porch steps, and she stopped in surprise at finding them there.
“Oh, hi,” she said. Her face was unsmiling, and Daria knew that was due to Rory’s presence. Chloe wished Rory had stayed in California. But she took a seat on the steps next to Daria, anyway, and worked at a smile. “How was dinner?” she asked.
“Great,” said Rory. “Some terrific restaurants have opened up here in the last twenty years.”