That he clearly loved his new caregiver was apparent to anyone who watched him light up in Melville’s presence. The staff at the nursing home had been happily surprised by Finch’s improvement under Melville’s care. Though they knew it wasn’t the best practical decision, there had been no one who disagreed with the decision to take him home as long as he would be cared for by such an attentive home health aide.
The plan was for Melville to move back into the house, pretending he was a hired caregiver, with Jessina as daytime help so that Melville could keep his job, which he did only at Zee’s insistence.
Finch hadn’t been able to use his walker again; he was in a wheel-chair permanently now. Zee knew only too well what a toll the role of full-time caregiver could take, and she wasn’t about to let Melville do it alone. That was the deal, take it or leave it, she said. “You’re as much a father to me as Finch is,” she said. “I need you to be around.”
Melville took the deal.
Today they said prayers for the veterans of World War II, many of whom were residents of the nursing home, and for Vietnam and Gulf War vets as well as for the soldiers now fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. They sang “God Bless America” and drank ginger ale and ate cake that was decorated with red, white, and blue sugar. Zee drank the ginger ale but passed on the cake.
When Finch fell asleep, they wheeled him back to his room and helped him into bed. They kissed his forehead and walked out together. He opened his eyes and smiled at Melville.
Zee picked up a few last things for the party. Since Mickey’s boat was too small for more than two people, Melville had loaned him the lobster boat. This way Mickey could transport most of the guests out to Zee’s party on Baker’s Island. Zee and Melville planned to take the water shuttle out to the island when Finch’s event was over.
They waited for the water shuttle for almost an hour. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, Zee turned to Melville. “Come on,” she said.
She drove back to Derby Wharf and parked in Mickey’s space. Then she went to the slip where the dory was kept.
“Please tell me we’re not taking the dory,” Melville said.
“Why not?” Zee said. She’d taken the dory many times.
“Because it’s a heap of junk, to say nothing of Mickey’s elaborate security system.” Melville pointed to the wires and ropes and padlocks.
“Piece of cake,” Zee said.
She had the boat unlocked in less than a minute. Then she shorted the wires to start the engine.
“Get in,” she said to Melville.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “You’re back to stealing boats.” But he was smiling.
MELVILLE WATCHED ZEE AT THE controls, guiding the dory out over calm waters. About two-thirds of the way out, the motor coughed and died.
She choked the engine, tried several times to restart it, but it was dead.
“Damn,” he said. “He never did take decent care of this thing.”
He was looking around for someone to flag down when Zee started to row.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she said, liking the idea. “It’ll be fun.”
He started to protest, but she was so into the idea that he just let it go. “Let me know when you want me to spell you,” he said.
It took her more than an hour and a half, but she never asked him to take over. Melville put his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun.
When they finally got to the wharf, Mickey and Ann were waiting.
“You stole my goddamned boat!” Mickey said. “I didn’t tell you that you could take my boat.”
“Why were you rowing?” Ann asked.
“Your goddamned boat’s engine broke down,” Melville said.
“No way,” Mickey said, climbing in to see for himself.
“The water taxi didn’t show up,” Zee said to Ann. “So we borrowed Mickey’s dory.”
Ann nodded, amused.
“Where is he?” Zee asked, looking up at the house.
“He’s working the grill,” Ann said. “We ate already, but he saw the boat coming and started cooking again for you two.”
Zee and Melville walked up the ramp toward the island. At the top of the wharf, she turned right toward the cottage. Melville stood looking down the cliffs and into the ocean below.
“Are you coming?” she asked.
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll catch up in a bit.”
Zee nodded and hurried her pace. When she got close to the house, she laughed. Hawk was at the grill, wearing a chef’s apron and the old straw hat with a big hole in the top where the mice had stolen the silk flower.
“Nice look,” she said.
Mattei and Rhonda stood next to Hawk. Jessina and Danny sat at the picnic table, trying to figure out how to make the coffee.
Hawk grinned. “Come here,” he said, kissing her for a long time. “I’ve got the burgers going, but we need either you or Melville to make cowboy coffee.”
He’d already brought out the pot and the egg. She took it and handed it to Danny. “Throw it into the pot as hard as you can,” she said.
“You’re kidding me, right?” the boy said.
“Nope.” Zee held the pot while Danny wound up and threw.
“I’d say you’ve got a future Red Sox pitcher there,” Mattei said to Jessina.
Zee stirred the egg and some water into a paste as Jessina watched carefully. Then she filled the pot with water and put it on the grill.
“ARE YOU GOING TO PLAY mechanic all day, or are you going to join the party?” Ann asked, starting back up the ramp.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Mickey said, grumbling something about Zee and Melville wrecking the engine. He took the oars out of the oarlocks, where Zee had left them, and placed them back where they belonged.
“Look at this,” he said to Ann, pointing to the oarlocks, which were worn down almost to bare wood.
“Look at what?” Ann said.
“She wore out my thole pins,” he said.
“Your what?”
Mickey gestured to the wooden pins next to the oars. “These are antiques. She may be my niece, but she’s going to have to pay for them.”
“What are you complaining about now?”
Mickey pointed at the wooden dowels that served as oarlocks. Ann thought of the story, “The Once,” about Maureen and the story of Zylphia and her young sailor. It wasn’t the Miseries-she could see the Miseries just slightly to the northwest-but it was an island. “I’ll be damned,” she said, looking up at the house, where she could see Zee and Hawk standing arm in arm.
“She’s going to have to either pay me or replace them,” Mickey said again.
Still grumbling, he caught up with Ann, and they walked to the cottage.
MELVILLE HIKED TO THE LIGHTHOUSE at the far end of the island. He stood on the cliff, looking out toward Manchester, and thought about the day so long ago when another boat had broken down, and how he had stopped here and what that day had meant. Then he opened the bag he’d brought along and took out the book of Yeats’s poetry. He opened to the title page and to the dedication. He saw Maureen’s suicide note still tucked into the pages of the book, and just as Finch had thrown the book that day, he threw it now.
It seemed as if he’d been sorry forever, but he found he couldn’t be sorry any longer. As he watched the book fall into the blue ocean below, disappearing into the foam, he said the only kind of prayer he knew now, not one asking forgiveness, not anymore, but a prayer of gratitude: for Maureen, and Finch, and Zee, and Jessina, and Danny, for Mattei for helping Zee through, and Rhonda, Ann, Bowditch, and even Mickey, and for this new man Hawk who had come into their lives, and for Michael who had left them. He said a prayer of gratitude for the days he had left with Finch, and one asking for the wisdom he knew he would need as those days went on. Then he said a final prayer of thanks for all that had happened in their strange and surprising lives. And for all that was yet to come.