“Not a happy girl,” whispered Jack. His gaze shot lower. He edged closer to read what was written there on the wall. Three letters: “T-i-l.”
It had to refer to Tillie, Lizzie’s twin sister, who’d died of meningitis. He sat back on his haunches and viewed the drawing in its entirety. The remaining letters had faded too badly to be read.
The drawing of the beam of light from the lighthouse extended outward but fell short of encompassing the image of Tillie. She remained firmly in the dark.
“You never found Heaven, Lizzie. And you never found Tillie.”
Jack felt tears creep to his eyes, and his lungs suddenly couldn’t get enough air.
Holding the doll under one arm, he pushed open the door that led to the catwalk encircling the top exterior of the lighthouse. Jack stared up at the dark sky. Heaven was up there somewhere. And, of course, so was Tillie.
And now Lizzie too.
He held up his hand and waved to her. And then, feeling slightly foolish, he let his hand drop but continued to stare up. Right this minute his wife seemed so close to him. He shut his eyes and conjured her face. It couldn’t possibly be more than six months since he’d heard her voice and her laugh, felt her skin or watched her smile.
It can’t possibly be that long, Lizzie.
He reached up. His finger covered a star that was probably a trillion light-years away and the size of the sun. But his finger covered it all. How close Lizzie must be to him, if he could cover up an entire star with his finger.
Heaven must be right up there.
He carefully set the doll down and slipped the envelope from his pocket. It had the number three written on the outside. The letter was dated December twentieth. He already knew what it said. He’d memorized every word of every letter. But if Lizzie could not read them, he would do it for her.
Dear Lizzie,
Christmas is five days away and it’s a good time to reflect on life. Your life. This will be hard. Hard for me to write and hard for you to read, but it needs to be said. You’re young and you have many years ahead of you. Cory and Jackie will be with you for many more years. And even Mikki will benefit. I’m talking about you finding someone else, Lizzie.
I know you won’t want to at first. You’ll even feel guilty about thinking about another man in your life, but, Lizzie, it has to be that way. I cannot allow you to go through the rest of your life alone. It’s not fair to you, and it has nothing to do with the love we have for each other. It will not change that at all. It can’t. Our love is too strong. It will last forever. But there are many kinds of love, and people have the capacity to love many different people. You are a wonderful person, Lizzie, and you can make someone else’s life wonderful. Love is to be shared, not hidden, not hoarded.
Jack paused for a moment as a solitary tear plunked down on the paper.
And you have much love to share. It doesn’t mean you love me any less. And I certainly could never love you more than I already do. But in your heart you will find more love for someone else. And you will make him happy. And he will make you happy. And Jackie especially will have a father to help him grow into a good man. Our son deserves that. Believe me, Lizzie, if it could be any other way, I would make it so. But you have to deal with life as it comes. And I’m trying my best to do just that. I love you too much to accept anything less than your complete and total happiness.
Love,
Jack slipped the letter into the envelope and put it back in his pocket. He picked up the doll and stared out over the ocean for a long time. He finally walked back down the stairs and out into the humid night air. He stared up at the lighthouse.
Lizzie’s Lighthouse.
He walked back to the house, his heart full of thoughts of what should have been.
32
Mikki rolled over in her bed. Outside she could hear the breakers. The physics of waves crashing on sand had been completely foreign to her a short while ago. Now she’d grown so accustomed to their presence that she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to be without the sound.
She yawned, sat up, and did a prolonged cat stretch. Glancing at her clock, she saw it was six thirty a.m. She liked to take her run around now so she could get back before her dad and Sammy left for work.
She slipped off the long-sleeve T-shirt she normally slept in and pulled on running shorts, a tank shirt, ankle socks, and sneakers. She made a pit stop at the bathroom and tied her hair back in a ponytail. On the way out she looked in on both her brothers, who shared a room at the end of the hall next to her dad’s bedroom. They were both still asleep. Cory was sprawled on his stomach, while Jackie was on his back, but with both legs bent so his covers made a tent.
She smiled as she listened to her brothers’ gentle snores.
As Mikki passed her dad’s room, she could hear him stirring.
She rapped on the door. “Dad, I’m going running. I’ll put the coffee on. Be back in about an hour.”
“Okay. Thanks,” came his sleepy response.
She put on the coffee and laid out two mugs for her dad and Sammy. The men got their own breakfast, but Mikki had been making her brothers’ meals. Sometimes it was just cereal. But other times she’d pull out the black skillet and whip up eggs, bacon, and something called grits, apparently a Southern thing, which her brothers had instantly loved but she couldn’t stand.
She bounced down the steps and passed through the dunes to the flat beach. She did a more thorough stretch and started her run. She kept to the hard, compacted sand, and her long strides carried her down the beach at a rapid clip. About a half mile into her run, Blake joined her. They talked as they ran. All normal subjects that teens gabbed about. She found herself liking him more, in spite of his association with someone like Tiffany Murdoch. He made her laugh.
He said his good-byes a few miles later and jogged back up to the street.
Mikki made her turn to head back toward the Palace when she saw someone out in the surf.
“Liam?”
She jogged down closer to the edge of the water as he stood up and waved.
“Early-morning swim?” she asked.
He high-stepped through the surf to stand next to her.
“Musicians and short-order cooks come here to keep in shape. And I’m not into running.”
She smiled and looked out at the water.
“My mom taught me to swim in a wading pool in our backyard,” she said.
“Always a good skill to have.” He brushed sand out of his hair. “You look like you’re working out. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
“Just a few more miles to go.”
“Miles! I’d be puking.”
“Come on! You look like you’re in awesome shape.”
“If I keep eating at the Little Bit, they’ll have to start wheeling me out of the kitchen.”
“My dad says the soundproofing is coming along.”
“Then we can really jam. And my mom won’t kill me.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Back at the Palace, Mikki showered and changed her clothes. Her dad had surprised her by making breakfast for everyone. Pancakes and ham.
“I help,” announced Jackie. He proceeded to pour about a gallon of syrup on his dad’s pancakes.
Before her dad and Sammy left, Mikki ran back up to her closet to get some things to take down to the beach later with the boys. Her bag spilled over, though, and when she started crawling around the floor picking things up, she noticed a loose floorboard near the rear of the closet. When she pressed the board up, she saw the edge of the photo. She pulled it out and studied the images. She went downstairs and showed her dad, who was finishing up his breakfast.