Page 41 of That Last Carolina Summer

“I brought towels instead to watch the stars. And I grabbed a couple of cushions from the back porch so we have something for our heads.”

I placed the beer between the towels. It usually took at least three to make me slip into a dreamless sleep, and I would do everything I could to make sure I wouldn’t have the dream twice in one night.

I handed him a bottle then took a long swig from mine before sitting down on one of the towels. In the distance, a nightjar cried.

“That’s that ugly bird with the squished head, isn’t it?” Liam said as he joined me on the adjacent towel.

I hid my grin with another long swig from the bottle. “If you mean a chuck-will’s-widow, then yes.”

“I knew that. I was just checking to make sure you remembered.”

“Uh-huh.” I opened the Doritos and took one before placing the bag on the dock between us. I drained my bottle and opened another to have it ready before lying down on the towel.

I felt him watching me as he set down his bottle and lay down next to me. “If you tell me what you’re trying to forget, I might be able to help.”

Without answering, I stared up at the night sky, feeling the beer relax my bones and soften the edges of the nightmare.

I closed my eyes, listening to the rippling water and nocturnal creatures under the dock.

The sound was as comforting as a childhood lullaby, made even more soothing by Liam’s presence beside me.

I didn’t need to explain this world to him or share the feeling of the pull of the tides or the heady aroma of the pluff mud that tethered me to the Lowcountry: this place where the land and water intermingled, the stars above sprinkling the sky like pixie dust. He already knew.

With my index finger, I pointed out the three stars of the summer triangle.

“That’s Deneb in Cygnus, Vega in Lyra, and Altair in Aquila.

The summer humidity will cloud the atmosphere so you can’t see them as clearly, but they’re there.

My aunt Sassy taught me everything I know about the sky and the birds who inhabit it.

She said as long as I kept looking up, I would only ever see endless possibilities. ”

“She sounds like a really smart lady.”

“She was. I miss her every day. Addie had my mother’s devotion, but Aunt Sassy was all mine.”

“Maybe that’s why your mother thought she could give Addie more attention.”

I looked at him, the side of his face touched by a glow from the crescent moon above us. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s not that unusual for a mother to shower more attention on the child she believes needs it the most. I see that a lot in my practice as adult children try on their new roles in relation to a parent with dementia-related diseases.”

I lay silent, ruminating over his words, wanting to tell him that he was wrong.

But I couldn’t. Instead, I watched the pinpoints of light flickering overhead, listening to the tide creep in around us.

High tide was a cloak that covered the marsh and all its secrets, leaving them exposed again as the moon pulled back the water six hours later.

I never thought that was long enough to hide anything until I had the dream the first time and learned that a secret was still a secret if it was kept for half a day or for twenty years.

Liam moved closer, his head on my cushion, and raised his arm to point at a bright light near the moon. “What’s that?”

His face was so close I knew that if I turned, our noses would touch. “That’s the planet Jupiter. Did you know that it’s so big that you could fit one thousand Earths inside of it?”

“I don’t know why we’d want to, but good to know.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “You talk like a teacher, you know. And that’s a compliment. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think that you were always meant to be one.”

I shrugged. “I really love what I do. But I’m not going to lie. If somebody called me tomorrow and asked me to take over as the local weather girl, I think I’d jump on it in a heartbeat. Childhood dreams don’t go away just because we’re doing something else.”

“And Addie? What did she dream of becoming?”

“For a while, she wanted to be an artist, but that was short-lived. Then she and our mother wanted her to become a news anchor. She got pretty close but then sort of checked out. I don’t think it was because of Ophelia.

I think Ophelia was just an excuse. I’ve always wondered about it, though.

It’s like she’d figured out her life and then suddenly forgot what she was supposed to do next.

And now, trying to manage our mother, she’s at a total loss.

I mean, I am, too, but at least I’m trying to figure it out. ”

I felt Liam’s warm breath on my cheek as he spoke.

“Something else I’ve learned while working with my patients and their families is that we’re all doing the best we can.

It’s like an escape room, where we can only figure out the clues from what we find hidden in plain sight.

Sometimes we miss the obvious, but it’s not because we’re not looking. ”

“Sounds like something Celeste would say.”

Liam laughed softly. “Yeah, well, that’s because she did.

My mother self-medicated herself to death after my father’s accident.

She didn’t do it to hurt Julie or me or my grandmother.

She did it because she didn’t see any other option, and it was the only thing that gave her any peace.

It took me a long time to realize that and to forgive her. ”

“I’m sorry you went through that. I’m glad that Celeste was there for you.

I see situations like that all the time as a teacher, and they don’t always work out so well.

” I felt the heat from his body against my side, but I didn’t move away.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get to a place where I can forgive my mother.

I don’t think she ever intended to hurt me, but the scars are there anyway.

Not that it matters. It’s too late to reconcile. ”

“Is it?” he asked softly.

I sat up on my elbow, the beer settling in as the edges of the night softened and curled around my head.

I lay back down, and my tongue felt heavy when I spoke again.

“Aunt Sassy called the time when a daughter finally sees her mother without the stain of her childhood a transfer of grace . I’m not even sure what that means, but I’m definitely not there yet.

Mother still seems prickly around me and even now continues to favor Addie. Maybe I’m just not mature enough.”

He was silent for a while, as if waiting for me to digest what I’d just said instead of inserting his opinion, and I decided that I liked that about him.

“A transfer of grace ,” Liam said. “Sounds like a country song. Did the Backlit Boys sing that tonight?”

I grinned, which I felt had been his goal. “First off, it’s the Backstreet Boys , which I’m sure you know. And they’re not a country band.”

I stole a glance at him and saw that he was also grinning. “Yeah, I knew that. Just wanted to make sure that you knew it, too.”

A shooting star streaked across the night sky, disappearing almost before I registered that it had been there at all. “Did you see that?” I asked.

“Was that a meteor?”

“Uh-huh. Also called a shooting star , even though they’re not stars. Just bits of rocks and dust hitting the Earth’s atmosphere so fast that they glow with heat before burning out.” I squinted into the darkness, hopelessly looking for some remnant of light. “It’s good luck to see one, you know.”

“I’ve heard that. I’ve also heard that they could represent love and connection between two people.”

“Funny, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that.” I looked up again. “Some people live their lives like a shooting star—burning fast and bright. I’m not so brave. I’m more like a chimney swift, flitting through the sky without landing and never going fast enough to burn.”

“I believe you’re doing everything just right.”

His voice was close, and when I turned my head, our noses touched. I didn’t pull back. “Yeah?”

He touched his lips to mine, gently at first, like a question.

I pulled his head toward mine, deepening the kiss, tasting beer and skin, and deciding I liked it very much.

I closed my eyes and leaned back, welcoming the weight of him as he moved over me, each of us tasting and exploring while the watery world around us seemed to move in tandem.

The nightjar called out again in the distance, awakening my mind’s eye. I saw the car on the bridge, heard the splash and the nightbird’s cry as if it were telling me to pay attention. I pulled away and sat up, knocking over my beer and feeling it seep into the towel.

Liam sat up, his eyes fixed on mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s not you. I just... I can’t. Not with you.”

I stood, swaying slightly. Liam stood, too, and tried to steady me, but I pushed him away. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m fine,” I said again as I made my way to the end of the dock, keeping my head down so I wouldn’t see another shooting star telling me to go back.