Chance Harbor (38 page)

Catherine stepped out of the car and smelled the bittersweet tang of the ocean. She could hear the surf in the distance. Tall, tawny marsh grass hemmed the trailer park. The grass shivered and whispered in the breeze. Seagulls wheeled overhead, like white boomerangs flung into the sky. The bright day mocked her dark mood.

Grey’s motorcycle was parked in the driveway, the only vehicle. So maybe Zoe did have a job. Catherine sensed that her sister wasn’t here. She should probably leave and come back later. On the other hand, this was her chance to see the real state of her sister’s new life.

She squared her shoulders and walked up the path leading to a narrow wooden deck that ran the full length of the trailer. It was easy to imagine sitting out here in nice weather, listening to the ocean and the trills of red-winged blackbirds.

The door opened before she could knock. Grey stood there in a white T-shirt and jeans, his hair loose around his shoulders, black and silky. Catherine took a step back and tucked her hands into her jacket pockets, embarrassed by her desire to touch him.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I came to see Zoe,” she said.

“She’s not here.” Grey didn’t invite her in.

Catherine wanted to see the inside of the trailer. To know how her sister lived with this part-time gypsy. She still couldn’t believe Grey was only a friend. Zoe didn’t know how to be just friends with a man. She screwed them for fun or used them for something more tangible—money, drugs, a place to crash. Catherine had seen her do it all.

“When’s she coming back?”

“A couple of hours.”

“Mind if I come in and wait?”

Grey’s impassive expression finally gave way. Now he looked surprised. “That’s a long time to wait.”

“I drove a long way. Look, I need to talk to her. Does she really not have a cell phone?”

“She does, but she doesn’t like to give out the number to people she doesn’t trust.”

Of course that would include her only sister, Catherine thought irritably. “If I wait, will she see me, do you think?”

“Only one way to find out, I guess.” Grey finally opened the door wider and gestured for her to pass through it.

The living room was ordinary and clean, except for a few scattered magazines, mostly devoted to boats and motorcycles. A flat-screen television dominated the wall across from the couch, and in one corner by the window was a desk with a laptop open and humming.

The combined dining/living room was separated from the kitchen by a narrow counter. The feeling was more bungalow than trailer; the space was bright and comfortable, welcoming, with red knobs on the cabinets picking up the bright red poppies on the taupe rug beneath the dining room table.

“This is nice,” she said. “Are you renting it for the winter?”

“I own it.” Grey closed the door behind her. “I own the park, actually. I bought it as an investment. I have a house on the beach between here and Seabrook. My mother lives in that house now. I’m fixing up another place now. I’ll move in there soon.”

“Oh,” Catherine said, confused. “So you spend most of the year here?”

He laughed at her expression. “Zoe told you I was a gypsy, huh?”

She nodded. “I thought you must spend most of your time on the road.”

“Not all of us do. Can I get you a coffee?”

Catherine’s stomach was still sour from the coffee at her mother’s house and the shock of meeting Darcy. “No, thank you.”

“Want to sit down?”

She shook her head. “I think you’re right. A couple hours is too long to wait. I should go.”

Grey eyed her curiously. “You don’t look like you should drive. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine. I might take a walk on the beach or something, then stop back, if that’s all right.”

“Anytime.”

“Thanks.” She turned around and opened the door again, welcoming the cooler air.

“Wait.” Grey grabbed his leather jacket from a peg near the door. “Why don’t I go with you? I could use some air, too. I’ve been working all morning.” He gestured toward the computer.

They followed a quiet street that paralleled the main road, and after a few blocks arrived at the beach. It was nearly empty, except for a lone surfer and a dog walker, and the tide was out, the beach wide and flat.

As soon as she saw the water feathering out on the sand, leaving silver tide pools behind as the waves retreated, Catherine felt homesick for Chance Harbor. How silly that she hadn’t stayed longer there with Willow and her mother to make the most of what could be their last days on Prince Edward Island.

The wind was stronger as they began walking along the packed sand toward the main State Park reservation. The dunes were gold in the sunlight and the water mirrored the deep blue autumn sky. The simplicity of these colors mocked Catherine’s complicated thoughts. She couldn’t think of anything to say to Grey. They walked for several minutes in silence. Finally, she asked him how long he and Zoe had been living together.

He didn’t turn to look at her, his profile fierce-looking with its black eyebrows and prominent brow and nose. “A few months.”

“And you were living with your sister down in Florida?”

He was silent for so long that Catherine thought he mustn’t have heard her. Finally, though, Grey said, “Yes. For a little while. Just until the end.”

“The end of what?” she asked.

Grey stopped walking so abruptly that Catherine took several steps beyond him before she caught on and turned around. “The end of my sister’s life,” he said.

Catherine opened her mouth, then closed it again, too shocked to speak for a moment. “But I thought Zoe worked with her,” she said finally. “I thought that’s how she ended up living with you guys.”

Grey nodded. Now he was looking away from her and toward the water, squinting a little. “Zoe and Sadie were friends from work, yeah. One day my sister went to a bar and nearly overdosed. A guy at the bar found Zoe in her contacts on her phone and called her when they took Sadie to the ER. Sadie didn’t want anyone to call and tell our mother what she’d done, so Zoe called me to come down to Florida to help. I got Sadie into rehab, and I invited Zoe to move into our house in Homestead. I thought that having Zoe there would be good for Sadie when she got out of the clinic. Someone who could understand what she was going through. For a while it worked. Then it didn’t. And then Sadie was gone.” He stopped talking and bowed his head, kicking at the sand with the toe of one black boot.

Catherine stood quietly beside him, facing the sea. A pair of cormorants surfaced, then dove and surfaced again, their narrow heads and skinny necks like black umbrella handles sticking up from the blue water.

“What happened?” she said softly. This was always the story she’d been afraid she might hear about her sister. It still was.

“Sadie overdosed. She was alone in her car, in the parking lot of the restaurant where they both worked. Zoe’s the one who found her and called the police. Sadie had gotten some heroin tainted with fentanyl.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He nodded and finally turned to look at her. His skin was brown with an undertone of gold, the same color as the damp sand they’d been walking on, as if Grey had grown up from the beach fully formed, like a tree springing forth from the earth. “It could have been your sister,” he said. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? But Zoe is stronger. And luckier.”

“At least so far,” Catherine said. The wind had picked up. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body. “Zoe has always had luck on her side.”

“So far.” Grey smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “All addicts are lucky until the one time they’re not,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go back. You look like you’re freezing.”

“No. I’m fine. Let’s walk some more.”

They went on for another few minutes in silence before she said, “So do you think there’s any chance Zoe will relapse?”

“There’s always a chance.”

“How big?”

“I don’t know,” Grey answered. “Zoe had been clean for several months by the time she met my sister. Sadie’s death really shook her up. She and Sadie were close. Like sisters.” He glanced at her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No. It’s fine. I know we’re not close. We never have been. I’m glad Zoe had somebody in her life who felt like family.”

“Why weren’t you?” he said. “Was it the drugs?”

Catherine thought about this. “Partly. We were close sometimes, as kids. Then Zoe changed.”

It was true. She had fond memories of her childhood with Zoe. At Chance Harbor, making cities for the snails and crabs they caught, jumping off the bridge at Basin Head Provincial Park, or looking for bottle caps and sea glass.

In Newburyport, the early mornings on weekends were theirs because their parents slept in. She and Zoe had made forts, invented pancake recipes with everything from chocolate chips to hot peppers. Dared each other to stand on their hands on the couch or go down to the basement alone in the dark. Despite being younger, Zoe won almost every contest. She was smart, quick, and fearless.

“Zoe could have done anything with her life,” Catherine said. “Something happened in middle school to change her. A boy, maybe. The wrong friends. We never really knew what it was. But by the time she was fourteen, Zoe might as well have been a stranger living with us.”

“She says she always admired you,” Grey said. “But I get the impression that she was afraid of you, too.”

“I was a snitch and never any fun,” Catherine said, hearing Zoe’s voice in her head. “She called me a flying monkey.” When Grey glanced at her, she said, “From
The Wizard of Oz
. Zoe accused me once of always swooping out of the sky to snatch her up whenever she was having fun. One year she even made me a hat like those monkeys wore, a cap trimmed in red felt cut in a zigzag pattern.” She smiled. “Zoe gave it to me for a birthday present and I thought it was pretty. Then she told me what it was and I cried. But Zoe was right. I
was
a snitch. My parents relied on me to help control her. I was more like another parent than a sister to her.”

“I get it. I had the same role with Sadie in our family. You can never let your guard down.”

“Exactly.”

By now they had reached the breakwater at the end of the reservation, near the mouth of the Merrimack River. So funny, Catherine thought, that they were standing across the river from Newburyport. From her mother’s house.

Her mother and Darcy.
My God
. Her mother had a lover. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up. Such a weird thought.

“Why are you smiling?”

Catherine felt her cheeks burn. She hadn’t realized Grey was watching her. “My mom. I stopped at her house on my way up here from Cambridge, and I surprised her with a gentleman caller.”

Grey’s dark eyes danced. “Good for her.”

“I know. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.” Catherine was laughing, and then she wasn’t. She was crying, crazy salty tears rolling down her cheeks.

“What is it?” Grey said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure I can even explain what’s wrong. It’s just that I don’t recognize our family anymore. Everybody’s so different. So far apart.”

Grey reached out and pulled her close to him with one arm around her shoulders. Brotherly and warm. Zoe was so lucky to have him, she thought.

“Tell me,” Grey said. “Everything.” He tugged her gently until they were sitting next to each other on the sand and leaning against the stone breakwater overlooking the river. The rocks protected them from the wind and the sun was surprisingly warm.

Catherine leaned her head against his shoulder. Somehow it was easier to talk freely if she didn’t look at him. “My dad died in May—Zoe told you that, maybe—and it seems like my mother is moving on. She’s seeing this other guy, apparently, and she’s selling our summer house on Prince Edward Island.”

She stopped and swallowed hard, then went on. “It’s weird. I’m at work or whatever, doing just fine. Then I see someone who reminds me of Dad, you know, an older guy in the grocery store or walking his dog, and I fall apart. Or I hear one of his favorite songs and can’t move until the song ends. I can’t seem to get my head around the idea that he’s not with us anymore.”

“It’ll take time,” Grey said. “My dad died while I was in high school. I still have those moments when I see him walking toward me, looking just the same as he always did.”

“I’m sorry. That’s a tough age to lose a parent.”

“Any age is a tough age to lose a parent.”

Catherine felt sleepy and leaned in to him a little more. “Now Zoe’s back. I know you think of her as your sister’s friend, but she’d been gone for five years without a trace. I really thought she was dead. I’m happy she’s okay, of course, but everything seems very uncertain now.”

“Like what?”

She suddenly wondered if she could trust him. “Oh, I don’t know, like what Zoe might do next,” she said, and stopped talking.

“What else?” Grey said, nudging her with an elbow. “You might as well pour all of your worries and sorrows into the sea and let them be washed away by the tides.”

She smiled. “Is that some kind of gypsy creed?”

“It’s mine,” he said.

“Okay. Let’s see. There’s my husband, Russell. Well, maybe my ex, now,” she said. “That’s confusing, too.”

“Which one was he, that night I came?” Grey asked.

“The shorter one with the dark hair.”

“Who’s the other guy? The one who looks like a runner?”

“Seth. Just a friend.”

“He wants to be more, though,” Grey guessed.

Catherine turned to look at him, surprised. He met her with a grin. She jabbed him, not so gently, with her elbow. “He’s just a friend,” she repeated. “I met him when I treated his son in my clinic.”

“All right. Russell?”

“Russell was having an affair with one of his students. Now she’s pregnant and he’s living with her. But suddenly he’s saying he wants to move back home and give things another try with me. His girlfriend is kicking him out.” Catherine took a long, shaky breath. “I can’t believe I just told you all that.”

“I can’t believe you’re
living
all that,” Grey said, but his voice was calm and deep, as if the surf itself were speaking, washing gently over her.