The Map of True Places (22 page)

“Don't worry,” he said. “These instruments are built for chop. It's actually easier to get a reading on a moving ship than from a fixed position.”

He walked back and forth, helping the women position their instruments. “Don't be fooled by the planets. We're looking for stars. Planets look more like disks—they don't twinkle.”

It took a while, but they all seemed to get it. When they began to take their readings, the group grew even quieter. The shyest of them gasped. Hawk leaned over and took a quick look at her sight, then smiled at her.

“Nice, huh?” he said.

“Beautiful.” She seemed amazed.

He had done this thousands of times, but it never failed to fill him with awe. There was a moment when you spotted that first star, a pinpoint of light just where (if you had done your calculations correctly) it was supposed to be in the sky. He'd heard it described as a religious experience. He wasn't sure about that. But when you spotted that first star or when the stars crossed exactly where they were supposed to cross, there was nothing better. Even if you'd been dead reckoning in the middle of a storm, or if overnight the Gulf Stream had taken you a hundred miles off course. If you had done your calculations properly, there would be a moment when you found that the star you were looking for was exactly where it should be on the horizon. In that instant the universe made sense, and you knew that no matter what else happened in the world, the stars would always tell you where you were, and when they did, you would always be able to find your way home.

The group was quiet on the way back to Salem. Some of them were writing in their logbooks, some just watching the stars as the sky grew darker and the constellations moved higher in the sky.

When he pulled into his slip, some of the crew were there to meet them. His friend Josh tied them up, and another crew member handed him a six-pack of beer he'd brought along.

“You can open the wine now,” Hawk told the ladies.

“Really?” They seemed surprised.

“Sure,” he said. “You earned it.”

Josh handed Hawk a beer. Hawk looked at his watch. It was almost eleven. He definitely wasn't going to get to Zee's railing tonight.

Z
EE ATTENDED THE CAREGIVER-SUPPORT
meeting at Salem Hospital. The room was surprisingly crowded. There were coffee and pastries in the back. It was rather more like a twelve-step program than she had expected. One by one, the people got up and told their stories.

A low level of depression seemed to run through the group, or maybe it was exhaustion. Certainly there was disillusionment and resentment, tales of siblings who didn't help enough or of parental demands that put such a strain on the caregivers that for the most part they seemed to have given up their lives. One woman, who had teenagers at home, talked about the stresses of trying to care for an ailing parent and deal with teenagers and menopause at the same time. Several other members of the group commiserated or nodded approval.

“Aren't you a little young to be here?” one of the women asked Zee.

“My father is in his late sixties,” Zee said. “And he has Parkinson's.”

“I'm sorry,” the woman said.

Though Zee got some good and practical tips for Finch's care, for the most part this group was depressing. She couldn't help but wonder if Mattei had known it would be. Perhaps this was a cautionary tale.

“Caring for an ailing parent is a lot like caring for a baby,” the
group's moderator said. “Except with a baby, you get to look forward to the results.”

 

T
HAT
Z
EE WAS ALREADY A
bit depressed seemed evident to Jessina, who kept making excuses to stay a little later each day and to try to engage her in conversation, often talking about her son, whom she clearly adored. Tonight she told Zee that Danny wasn't home and that she'd been wanting to bake a cake for Finch. She didn't have a proper mixer or the right pans at her apartment, she said. Zee knew it was an excuse, because Jessina had just recently baked Finch a cake at home. So far that cake was only half eaten. Jessina hovered around her and kept asking if there was anything she needed. She didn't need anything, Zee said, but she appreciated the offer.

At seven forty-five, Jessina finally went home, leaving a spice cake with white frosting in the refrigerator for Finch. At eight o'clock, someone knocked on the front door. At first Zee thought that Jessina had forgotten something, but no, she always came in the kitchen door at the other end of the house, and she had a key. Zee found herself holding her breath, hoping it wasn't Michael.

In the events of the last few days, she'd almost forgotten about Hawk and the handrails, but she found herself relieved to see him standing here now. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and was carrying a tool bag.

“I have to take some measurements for the railing,” he said, as if thinking Zee might have forgotten why he was there. “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

She led him to the hallway.

“Is this an okay time to do this?” he asked, seeing her expression. “I can come back tomorrow if you want.”

“No,” she said. “Now is fine.”

She showed him where the OT had said the railing should go, about thirty inches off the floor.

“Usually they're thirty-four.”

“The OT gave me the height,” she said. “She wants it to match the height of my father's walker.”

“Makes sense,” he said. He looked inside the tool bag, cursed, then went out to the blue van for a tape measure.

When he came back, she was still standing in the hallway. He made her hold one end of the tape while he measured the wall once and then again.

“I've got to run up to Home Depot to get the stock,” he said.

She nodded. “You want some money?”

He shook his head. “Just pay me when I finish the job.”

 

W
HEN HE RETURNED THE NEXT
night, Hawk started trying to guess where he knew her from. Over the course of the evening, it had become a joke between them—a game, really—and the only conversation they made.

“The yacht club,” he'd say.

“Not likely.”

“What about Maddie's?”

“In Marblehead?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Nope. Sorry. Never been there,” she said.

Zee tried to keep things light. But she wished he would give up the game. It made her nervous. The last thing she wanted to do was to explain her relationship with Lilly to Hawk. Patient confidentiality prohibited any discussion of Lilly's case, any explanation of why, as Lilly's psychotherapist, Zee had been unable to save her. Not that she had any explanation that would satisfy anyone anyway. The truth was, she hadn't seen it coming. She had failed.

 

H
AWK CAME BACK THE FOLLOWING
night at six, and the night after that, and by the fourth night he had completed the handrail. It was a nice job, rather more finish carpentry than Zee had expected. He had sanded and varnished it so that it was smooth and splinter-free.

“It looks like a ship's rail,” she said, running her hand across the sanded surface.

He smiled. “At least I didn't make it out of rope,” he said, and she laughed.

She could see him notice the spot on her finger where the engagement ring used to be, the patch of paler skin that highlighted its absence. She quickly let her hand drop from the railing.

“Really, it's nice,” she said. “It should work well for him. Thank you.”

“I'll come back Thursday night to do the grab bars,” he said.

“Thursday's good.”

He looked at her again.

“What?” she asked.

“I know where I saw you,” he said. “We met at the fund-raiser for the Home for Aged Women.”

“Excuse me?”

He pointed in the general direction of Derby Street.

“Oh.” She laughed, remembering the building from childhood, though they had changed the name on it over the years. “No, I wasn't invited to that one.”

“I'm not giving up,” he said. “I never forget a face.”

 

O
N
T
HURSDAY NIGHT, JUST BEFORE
it was time for him to arrive, she was surprised to find herself peeking in the mirror to check
her hair. She realized it had been a while since she'd even bothered to look. But tonight she found herself putting on a little makeup as well, just some mascara and lip gloss, but she noted it, and it surprised her.

Hawk was an attractive guy, dark-haired and good-looking by anyone's standards. He had a winning smile and a fading scar that ran down the right side of his face, just enough imperfection to make him interesting. But he wasn't her type. Not that she even knew what her type was. Her mind went to Michael. This was ridiculous, she thought. It was too soon. And there was Lilly.

She put the makeup away and frowned at herself in the bathroom mirror.

 

I
NSTEAD OF WAITING AROUND TO
see him, Zee took a walk. She wandered down by the Willows and played a game of skee ball, then walked over and got herself some popcorn and sat on a bench listening to music and feeding the gulls. In the cove a class of first-time kayakers practiced rolling over and righting themselves.

When she got back, Hawk was standing in the kitchen, his tools packed away. “The job is finished. You want to see it?” he asked, already leading her down the hall toward the bathroom.

She moved past him in the small space, stepping toward the tub, then turning to face him. “Good work,” she said.

“Didn't require a lot of skill.” He looked at his work. “I hope the height is okay. This was the only place I could put them that had wall studs.”

“It's fine,” she said. “Thank you.”

He grinned at her. “So what's next?”

“I guess we're done, and I should pay you.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“Let me get my checkbook.”

It was a small bathroom, and as he moved back to let her pass, she brushed by him. He tried to step out of her way, but she miscalculated and went in the same direction, bringing them chest to chest in the tiny space.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Not a problem.” He didn't move out of the way immediately but stood there looking into her eyes for an extra moment before he stepped back. “After you,” he said finally, acting out as much of a chivalrous bow as the small space permitted.

He smells like the ocean,
she thought as she moved past him.

 

S
HE LOOKED EVERYWHERE FOR HER
checkbook, but it was nowhere to be found. “I'm sorry,” she said. “This is ridiculous. I had it this morning.” She thought about it. “I can drop off a check to you tomorrow when Jessina comes,” she said.

“That's okay,” he said. “I'll stop by and pick it up tomorrow night after work.”

“Are you sure?”

“No trouble,” he said.

She walked him to the door. “It gives me one more day to figure out where I've seen you,” he said. “Or you could just tell me.”

“What?” she said.

“I could tell that you recognized me that first day on the wharves.” It wasn't a confrontation, more a statement of fact. “So I figure you can just tell me so we can stop this dumb game we've been playing and maybe move on to something more interesting.”

He smiled at her, and she felt herself flush.
Damned Irish skin,
she thought.

Not giving her a chance to answer, he turned quickly, and before she could say anything, he was gone.

 

Z
EE HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING THAT
night. She kept thinking about Lilly Braedon and the funeral and whether or not she should tell Hawk where he had seen her. She didn't mind him knowing, but she didn't want him to ask a lot of questions. As Lilly's therapist she had confidentiality issues, to be sure. But it was more than that. Whether or not he was attracted to her, Zee knew that the minute she admitted it, she would be judged. Therapist of a suicide? He would judge her the same way she'd been judging herself.

She finally fell into a fitful sleep at about three in the morning. She didn't wake up until almost eleven. She was alarmed as she looked at the clock. Jessina was supposed to leave at ten-thirty, but she wouldn't leave Finch alone.

Zee pulled on her cutoffs and a clean tee. For the last several nights, she had been sleeping in Maureen's room, where it was quieter and the one place that Finch wouldn't wander.

Jessina and Finch were sitting in the kitchen. He was wearing a canary yellow shirt with red pants and eating a piece of cake accompanied by a big glass of milk. Zee couldn't help but smile.

“I'm so sorry,” she said to both of them. “I really overslept.”

Finch, as if just realizing where she'd been sleeping, looked up the stairway but said nothing. He had long ago closed off Maureen's room. Zee could tell he didn't like the idea of its being opened again.

“You look better,” Jessina said.

Zee realized that she felt better.

“You want some cake?” Jessina offered.

“For breakfast?” Zee laughed. “No thanks. I might have a piece after lunch, though.”

Jessina looked satisfied. She removed the apron she'd been wearing and draped it onto the hook. “How do you like your father's new look?”

“Colorful,” Zee said.

Finch groaned.

“You look younger,” Jessina said, patting him on the head as she passed. “Younger is never a bad thing for a man. You get out, you see. The ladies will fall on you.”

Finch looked at Zee in horror.

“I think she means the ladies will fall all over you.”

“Yes,” Jessina agreed. “That's what I said.”

Finch's expression of horror was no less pronounced.

“How's Danny?” Zee asked, trying to change the subject.

“He's fine. He's going to day camp to learn to swim.” Jessina pointed up-harbor toward Children's Island.

“That's great,” Zee said.

“I'm just cleaning up before I go,” Jessina said. “Anything else you need me to do?”

“I think we're all set,” Zee said. Jessina came in twice a day, once in the morning to feed and bathe Finch, then later to give him dinner and get him ready for bed.

“I'll see you at dinner,” Jessina said to Finch. “Fish tonight.”

He smiled weakly as she left.

“I don't think she realized the nature of your relationship with Melville,” Zee said, pouring herself a cup of Dominican coffee that Jessina had brewed.

She was trying to engage him in conversation about it, as she had promised Melville she would. But Finch wasn't biting. Instead he turned and looked up the stairs. “Why are you sleeping up there?” he said. “You have a perfectly good room down here.”

She didn't want to tell him the reason; she was afraid it would hurt his feelings. The real reason was that she couldn't take his sundowning. It scared her to wake up and find Finch in her room. He was simply checking on her, the way he had when she was a child,
but it kept her from sleep. Ever since the freezing episode when she'd awakened to the fearful look in his eyes, she hadn't been able to sleep downstairs.

She knew that she wasn't required to answer, that the question was rhetorical. Finch was simply expressing his disapproval at the door, which, having been locked for so long, now stood open and leading up the stairway to the room where they'd found her mother.

 

Z
EE KEPT HERSELF BUSY CLEANING
all day. But she couldn't stop thinking about what she was going to say to Hawk. Finally she realized that the only logical thing to do was to tell him that they'd seen each other at Lilly's funeral and stop the game. She had a certain curiosity about what had made him attend the funeral in the first place, though it was not that uncommon among witnesses. But she knew she wouldn't ask him that. And she couldn't discuss anything about Lilly. She would tell him that she'd seen him there and hope that ended it. She was pretty certain it would, along with any attraction that he either did or did not feel for her.