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Mommy flashed her eyes at me, but Archie widened his smile. "I'm not one for sailing or fishing," he said.

"But I thought you went river rafting," I followed quickly.

"That's not sailing or fishing. That's just a thrill," he replied.

"Cape Cod has its charms," Mommy said, "but the people can be hard. The ocean makes them that way."

"It didn't make you hard," Archie said lustily.

1 turned my attention back to the scenery flying by. That night we slept in a much nicer motel. We

stayed in a suite and I had the sofa bed all to myself. I was able to wash my hair and shower, too. We ate dinner at the motel and I returned to the room while Mommy and Archie remained in the lounge listening to music and drinking. They stumbled in hours later, giggling and whispering. I pretended to be asleep as they clumsily made their way into the bedroom and shut the door.

Even though the conditions were better, I had a harder time falling asleep. Now that we would be in Provincetown the very next day, and meeting Daddy's family, I had a small trembling inside. Where was my new home to be? I felt like a balloon, floating, bouncing, carried this way and that by the winds of Mommy's and Archie Marlin's fancy. Maybe we didn't have all that much back in Sewell, but now I had nothing: not a friend, not a familiar sight, no one in whom to confide. I had never felt so alone. I could squeeze my eyelids shut until they ached, but I couldn't close out the fears that kept me tossing and turning, fretting in and out of nightmares until the first light of morning streaked through the motel room curtains.

Mommy and Archie slept very late. I washed and dressed and sat reading a visitor's guide, wondering if at least we could do some sightseeing. Finally, tired of being shut up in the stuffy room, I went for a walk around the motel. By the time I returned, Mommy and Archie were awake. We went for breakfast. They were both very subdued, they hardly talked and their eyelids drooped.

"Are we going to do some sightseeing before we go on to Provincetown?"

Archie groaned.

"On the way back," Mommy said quickly. "We want to get to the Cape as early as possible today."

"I thought we were exploring new places," I muttered. "Oh Melody, please. No complaints today. I'm afraid I had a little too much to drink last night," she said.

1 said nothing. After breakfast, we moved mutely, repacking the car and getting in for the drive. I saw many good views of the ocean, especially when we crossed the Cape Cod Canal. It was a beautiful warm day. The sailboats and fishing trollers looked painted on the blue water. As I smelled the salty air, I had the funniest feeling, as if I were truly returning home. Perhaps I was experiencing what Daddy would have felt if he were alive and with me on this journey. I would learn more about him by going to this place. I began to overcome my nervousness and fear. In a way, Daddy would be with me.

Mommy fell asleep as we continued our journey up Route 6. The miles slid by like a long ribbon with no end. When the road signs indicated we were getting closer to Provincetown, a tiny charge of excitement passed through my heart. How could Mommy sleep through this? After all, she was going home, too. Finally, Archie, who had been quiet himself, announced we were close to the tip of the Cape, Provincetown. Mommy stirred, opening her eyes and stretching.

I caught sight of the dunes. "It looks like the desert." Then Pilgrim's Monument came into view and Mommy told me what it was.

"The pilgrims supposedly landed here first," Mommy said. "The blue bloods make a big deal of that."

"Blue bloods?" I asked.

"People who trace their family history back to the Mayflower. Your father's family," she added disdain-fully. "They think that makes them better than the rest of us."

"Is that why you and Daddy left?"

"That among other things," Mommy said and sewed her lips shut.

"Where do we go?" Archie asked.

"Turn left," Mommy ordered.

"Are they expecting us today, Mommy?"

"Yes," she said. "Jacob should be home. I see the tide is in."

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"The waves are breaking on the beach up at the beach grass. See?"

I nodded.

"Fishing boats go out and come back at high tide," Mommy explained. "I remember that much, but don't ask me too much more," she said quickly. It was as if it were painful for her to remember.

Archie followed her directions. We moved slowly through the narrow street, on both sides of which were small souvenir shops, boutiques, restaurants advertising fresh lobster dinners, and taverns with names like The Buccaneer and Mast Head. Here and there were signs advertising bed and breakfast accommodations. The buildings, some of which looked very old, were made from gray cedar shingles. All had Vacancy signs dangling in the breeze.