Wish I Might (11 page)

Biking home, I feel lighter. Relieved of the burden of worrying. Mum’s advice was perfect as always. I told the truth and now I am free.

At home in my room I call JFK. No answer. I leave another happy birthday message. “Call me.”

I head into town to give Nana the
CHANGE FOR GOOD
jug I made for her.

“What a great idea,” she says. “I’ll put this right in my kitchen tonight.”

“I’d like one, too,” Dr. Swaminathan says to me when Nana turns to help a customer. “And if you could spare another, I have a friend who I think would appreciate one as well.”

“Sure, Dr. S.,” I say. “I’ll make one for Mrs. Saperstone, too.”

Dr. Swammy smiles. He puts his finger to his lips like, “Don’t say anything to anybody.”

I walk closer toward him. “Don’t worry,” I say. “Your secret’s safe with me. But if you decide to pop the question, I know a good wedding planner.”

Back home I seek out my mother. She’s in the kitchen going over the schedule with the staff. I hand her the jug and tell her about Change For Good.

“Now that’s a
big
idea, my daughter.” She winks at me and smiles. We both know she’s talking about my birthfather’s company, What’s the Big Idea?

Rosie asks if I’ll make her a jug. Makita, Darryl, Mae-Alice … several of our staff members want one.

Mother follows me out of the kitchen. “Did you tell Will yet?” she says.

I nod my head yes. “I feel so bad for him,” I say. “He really thought our father was alive.”

“Poor kid,” Mother says. “What a heartbreaking disappointment.” She clears her throat. “Would you take me to meet him?”

“Sure,” I say. “When?”

“I have a rehearsal tonight,” Mom says. “But the
wedding isn’t until six tomorrow night. Maybe we could go in the morning?”

“Sure, Mom.”

It’s Friday night and I have no plans. Chandler invited me over. Shefali and Caroline are coming to her house to plan out the sand castle they’re going to build in the competition tomorrow. It sounds like fun, but I say thanks anyway, I have plans with my family. Maybe I’ll see them tomorrow.

I check my messages. No reply from JFK.

Now I’m starting to get angry. I know it’s his birthday, but he could at least answer my calls. He’s probably having such a good time with that Lorna Doone girl and all those new rich friends at his grandparents’ club that he—
Ring.
I jump.

I check caller ID. It’s him!

Ring …

Don’t act all desperate, Willa, like you’ve been waiting by the phone all day. Make him wonder a bit.

Ring …

Reason: It’s JFK, Willa. Your boyfriend. You have been waiting for him to call. Answer it quick before …

Ring …

“Hello?” I say casually, like I don’t know who’s on the other end.

“Willa. It’s me, Joseph.”

“Oh, hi, Joseph.”

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“Nothing.”

“Yes,” he says. “Something’s wrong. I can tell. You sound mad.”

“No, I’m not mad.”

Long pause.

“Happy birthday,” I say.

“It would be if you were here,” he says.

“What?” I heard him, but I want to hear it again.

“I said it would be a happy birthday if you were here.”

My heart melts. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he says. “So much that I spent the whole day writing a song for you.”

“For me?”

“Who else?” he says with a laugh.

“Really? You wrote me a song? What’s it called?”

“ ‘My Girl,’ ” he says.

“Sing it to me,” I say.

“No way,” he says. “I’m a lyricist, not a singer.”

“Oh, come on, please.”

“No. But you’ll hear it soon enough. One of the kids down here for the summer, a grandson of one of my grandparents’ best friends, is a DJ and an aspiring hip-hop artist. He made it through a few rounds of
American Idol
auditions.”

“Wow,” I say, “he must be good.”

“He is,” JFK says. “And I asked him to record my song for you.”

Pause. My heart’s a net full of butterflies fluttering.

“Willa,” JFK says. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m speechless.”

“You? Speechless? I don’t think so!” We laugh.

“So who’s this Lorna girl,” I say.

JFK bursts out laughing. “There you go. I was wondering how long it would take for you to say something.” He laughs and laughs and laughs.

“What does she look like?” I say.

“Oh, my God,” he says, “she’s gorgeous.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. I don’t know what she looks like. I don’t really pay attention.”

“I miss you,” I say.

“Miss you more,” he says.

“You wrote me a song?” I say. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Well, right now I’m waiting for
my song,”
JFK says.

“What song?” I say.

Pause. He laughs. “Did you forget? It’s my birthday.”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “But don’t laugh, because I’m no singer, either. All right, here goes:

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Jo … seph,

Happy birthday to you.”

When Mom and I get to the top of the beach stairs the next morning, we pause for a moment to take it all in. The waves, the sky, the birds, the beach, the cinnamon-sweet smell of the wild rugosa beach roses.

“Beautiful,” Mother says.

“Sure is. Have you ever seen the sunrise here?”

“Not in a long, long time,” Mom says. “I used to when I was younger, but no, not since I moved back here to the Cape.”

“You’ll have to come with me some morning,” I say.

“I’d like that,” Mom says.

“There’s Will’s boat,” I say, nodding up toward the Spit.

We start down the beach stairs.

“What was that?” Mother says, pointing at the water. “A seal, maybe?”

We pause and look together for a while, but we don’t see anything.

As we walk up the beach I tell her about the little girl who thought she saw a mermaid. “She was so certain of it,” I say.

I remember how JFK thought the girl was silly but Will said, “What’s off with you? You don’t believe in mermaids?”

Poor Will. Here he came all this way to meet me. To find our father. He really believed Billy Havisham was still alive.

When we reach the tip of the Spit, Will is coming up over the bank, trudging through the sea grass with Salty Dog. Salty barks.

“Oh, my gosh, there’s your dog,” Mom says.

“Will’s dog,” I whisper, my heart clenching sadly.

When Mom sees Will’s face, she raises her hand to her mouth.

I introduce them, but of course, no introductions are necessary.

Will holds out his hand.

Mother takes his hand between both of hers. She stares at him. “You’re the spitting image of your father.”

“Yeah,” Will says with a weak smile. “So I understand.”

“I’m so sorry you didn’t know—” Mother starts.

“It’s okay,” Will interrupts, shaking his head. “I guess I really did know. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

We all stand there not saying anything for a few moments. Salty barks.

“How long are you staying on the Cape?” Mom asks.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“What?”
I say. We only just met. “Tomorrow? Why so soon?”

“Nothing here for me now,” Will says.

“What about
me
?” I blurt out, surprising myself.

Mother swings to look at me, equally surprised by my outburst.

“We only just met each other, Will,” I say. “All this time I never realized I had a brother, and now you’re leaving before we really even get to know each other?” I feel my body starting to shake, tears rising.

“Whoa,” Will says. “I’m sorry, Willa. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Do you have to leave tomorrow?” Mother says. “Is there any way we could talk you into staying with us
for a while? We have room at the inn and we can always use an extra set of hands.”

I burst out crying. That was the most spontaneous, most generous thing my mother has ever done. “Really, Mom? Do you mean it?”

“Of course,” she says. “I need to check with Sam, but I’m sure he’d be on board.”

“Will you, Will?” I say. “Will you stay?”

Ruff, ruff, ruff.
Salty Dog licks Will’s hand. He licks my hand. I swear that dog understands what’s going on here.

“Sure,” Will says. “I’m in no hurry to get back to the castle. No one’s missing me there. Thanks for the offer. That would be nice.”

Will rides over to the Vineyard to get his belongings. He’ll meet us at the inn in a few hours.

Back at the Bramblebriar, Mom goes to talk with Sam in private. A few minutes later they are setting up a bed in the room that was going to be the nursery for the baby.

Mom asks Mae-Alice to put a brown comforter and dark blue pillows on the bed. “Make it as boyish as possible,” she says.

Sam wheels in a television and a small refrigerator.
“Why don’t you stock it with some juice and snacks,” he says to me.

In the kitchen, I tell Rosie the news. “Oh, how wonderful!” she says. “Tell your mom and dad I want to make a special dinner just for the four of you. I’ll serve it out in the Labyrinth like the other night.”

When Will shows up with Salty Dog, we’re waiting for them on the porch.

Salty runs to me and I hug him. “Welcome home,” I say.

Will looks at me, at Mom, at Sam. He looks like he’s going to cry.

“Welcome to the Bramblebriar Inn,” Sam says, reaching out his hand to shake my brother’s.

“Welcome home,” I say. I look quickly at my mother, then back at Will. “Well, at least for the summer,” I say.

I reach down and bury my face in Salty’s fur. “Furry traitor. I missed you, boy.”

Salty licks my face. He licks my tears away. I laugh and he smiles at me.

Really, he does. The only dog I know that smiles.

“Let’s get you settled,” Sam says to Will. And we all head inside.

Rosie has just finished baking the layers for the wedding cake for the couple from upstate New York. Denise and Scott. I put in the charms: B for book, R for rose, each letter standing for something special about our inn, “BRAMBLEBRIAR.”

Tonight twelve guests will find a lucky penny under their plates and they’ll be invited to pull a ribbon from the wedding cake. There will be a charm on the end of each ribbon. Hopefully the guests will assign a certain meaning
to their charm … something that inspires them, or makes them feel good.

The charms were my idea. It’s one of the things that makes a wedding at the Bramblebriar different from any other.

Sam finds a usable bike in the barn for Will, and the two of us bike over to South Cape Beach to check out the sand castle competition.

Sand creations, they should call them. People brought props and elaborate imaginations. Sand turtles, elephants, lizards, and dinosaurs. Villages, pyramids. Cartoon characters. Funny-shaped people of every sort. Hardly a traditional-shaped castle anywhere. The mermaids won’t get many wedding cakes tonight.

It’s late. We missed the announcement of the winners. But from the blue, red, and yellow banners by three amazing entries, Will and I can surmise who the first-, second-, and third-place winners were. Chandler and my friends from school took second place with a Dr. Seuss theme.

It’s four-thirty or so. Families are packing up to head home for the day.

The roar of the ocean is picking up.

“Tide’s coming in,” Will says.

“Hey,” I say. “Want to make a sand castle?”

“No,” Will says. “Not really.”

“Come on,” I say. “It’ll be fun. If we’d known each other when we were little, we’d have made tons of castles together.”

Will smiles. “Sure. Okay. You’re on.”

We make a good old-fashioned sand castle. I make funny-looking gargoyles on the turrets. Will makes a moat. The waves fill it in with water.

“Do you have a moat at your castle in England?” I say.

Will laughs. “No, but we’ve got gargoyles.”

We sit on the bank and look out at the water.

“Tide’s coming in,” Will says.

We look at our castle. Won’t be long and it will be gone.

“Do you really think that little tourist girl saw a mermaid?” I ask.

“Of course she did,” Will says without hesitation.

I look at him.
“What?
You really believe in mermaids?”

“Doesn’t matter what I believe,” Will says. “Who am I to say what she saw with her eyes?”

“But, Will, come on. A mermaid?”

He looks at me. “Tell me something.”

“Sure, what?”

“If, two weeks ago, somebody told you that you have a brother, would you have believed them?”

I think about that. “No. I wouldn’t have.”

Will stares into my eyes. “Do you believe it now?”

“Of course. You’re here. Right in front of me. I can see you with my own two eyes.”

Waves are rolling in good now. There’s a splash out on the water. A few drops spray across my face.

I look quick. Was that a tail? “Did you see that?” I say.

“No,” my brother says. “But you did. And that’s all that matters.”