Page 55 of That Last Carolina Summer

“Hold your ponytail out of the way,” Liam said as he took the necklace from me. I did as he asked and waited for him to place it around my neck.

“How does it look?” I asked.

“Like it was made for you.” Mary-Simms reached over and straightened the charm. “I was hoping that every time you saw it in the mirror, you’d think of home and want to come back.”

“We have bluebirds in Oregon, too, you know. But they’re called western bluebirds instead of eastern bluebirds. And yes, they have other differences than just their names, mostly in coloring variations.”

“And of course you’d know that,” said Mary-Simms, and I laughed as I stroked the smooth enamel of the bird like a talisman of home.

When the waiter appeared at the end of the meal with the dessert list, I was the first to raise my hand.

Growing up with my mother and sister meant that I’d been taught that dessert was nice to offer friends and visitors but not something in which I should indulge.

Liam and I split an order of sticky sorghum pudding, and I made sure there wasn’t a crumb left.

As we stood outside the restaurant, saying goodbye, Mary-Simms gave me another hug. “It’s been so good to see you, Phoebe. I’ve missed having you in my life. I wish you could stay longer. Think of all the trouble we could get into! Just like old times.”

“If you’re referring to the peeled bananas we taped to the bottom of Mrs. Dorgan’s desk over spring break, I plead the Fifth.” I giggled, the memory made more hilarious by the wine I’d consumed over the course of our dinner.

“And I’d love to hear more of that,” Andrew said, “but Drew is an early riser, and we both need our sleep. Let’s do it again soon, though, okay?”

I hugged him and Mary-Simms again, and as Liam and I walked back to the garage, it was hard to remember why I’d ever left.

As we got back into the car, Liam’s phone pinged with a text. I watched him frown as he read and then tapped in a long response before looking at me. “Will wants to know if the jonboat in your shed is still waterworthy.”

I sat up. “What? I mean, I have no idea, but why is he even asking right now? It’s dark out.”

“Don’t worry. I told him that under no circumstances is he allowed to take it out tonight, and he said he and Ophelia were thinking about taking it out tomorrow.”

I pulled out my phone. “I should call Addie since she’s in charge. Just to be sure.”

He put his hand over mine. “Let Addie handle it, Phoebe. I think being responsible is something she needs right now.”

I relaxed back in my seat. “You’re right. We’ll let them work it out.”

“So,” he said. “Where to?”

“I thought you were taking me home.”

“I could. If that’s what you want.”

“Is there another option?”

“My place? Will is at your house, and Celeste is at hers so...”

He let the question fade away. When I didn’t say anything, he turned on the ignition. “Never mind. I get it. I’ll take you home.”

I turned to face him. “Who said I wanted to go home?”

He leaned toward me, wine on his breath, and kissed me softly. He lifted his head, the air between us like a promise.

I closed my eyes, my body lulled into a stupor by the delicious food and wine and the warm air that slipped over my skin and the promise of what was to come.

I tried to stay awake, remembering too clearly what happened before when Liam drove me back from the concert, but I fell asleep before we’d exited the garage, feeling the weight of Liam’s hand on mine.

The dream came quickly this time, a sense of urgency I didn’t remember now nipping at my back. My skin prickled, and the hair on my arms stood up as the nightjar screamed closer and closer to my ear. It seemed to be screaming at me. Wanting me to pay attention. To see what it wanted me to see.

I wanted to back away from the scene, but I was immersed in it, like being inside a painting, imprisoned within the four edges of the canvas.

The bird screamed again, but it wasn’t the bird, it was a woman crying, the sound coming from the woman emerging from the edge of the water.

A woman. The first clue I’d had about the identities of the car’s occupants.

I wanted to look closer at the woman’s face, but the bird shrieked in my ear, urging me to look at something else. To pay attention .

Panic reached around my throat, squeezing out my breath as my gaze darted from one spot to another, searching for what I was supposed to see .

The car seemed to move slower this time, its inevitable progress toward the edge of the bridge even harder to watch.

I should be able to stop it, yet it remained just out of reach.

And then I was on the road leading to the bridge, and I was running toward the car, my feet heavy.

I looked down and saw that pluff mud was sucking at my feet.

The sobbing filled my ears, saturating the night, flooding the sticky air with an unholy agony.

I forced my gaze toward the woman, trying to see her face, knowing it had to be me.

The nightjar called out again, and I turned to see that it was on the bridge, its dull eye focused on something in the water.

I followed its gaze, seeing again the small shiny object.

My dream self knew it was about to go under any second, but I needed to see it.

I had to see it. It was important. But as much as I knew that I needed to see it, the more my conscious brain blocked it.

Because I recognized it . I just wasn’t ready to accept it.

The bird lifted from its perch, its wings spread in an ominous arc as it swooped toward me with its feathers bowed. It shouted as it came near, but its voice had suddenly become my father’s.

I screamed as the feathers brushed my face, its wings folding around my body, and then there was Liam’s voice, whispering soothing words in my ear, and it was his arms around me as he lifted me, carrying me away from the dream.

I kept my eyes closed, aware only of the beat of his heart beneath my ear and the sound of wind whistling through sailboat rigging.

Then a door opened, taking me out of the dream, and I knew that I was safe.

I opened my eyes. I was lying on a soft couch, and Liam’s face was in front of mine, and it was quiet except for a howling wind outside.

My gaze shifted to the shark’s tooth around his neck.

An image from the dream flashed through my head, gone almost as soon as it had arrived.

I reached out and touched the dangling charm at his neck, trying to grasp at the wisp of memory.

“You had the dream again.”

“Yes.” My voice sounded raw.

He was silent, watching me closely. “Will you be okay here by yourself while I get you a glass of water?”

I shook my head. “Don’t leave.” I reached for him and brought my mouth to his, needing the sanctuary he had offered me the first time our lives had collided all those years ago. It felt as if he were saving my life again.

He pulled away, leaving my skin suddenly bereft. “Are you sure?”

I nodded and reached for him again, pulling him toward me, erasing the bridge and the car and the woman and the lonely call of the nightjar.

All that remained was Liam and his marsh-green eyes and the sound of the sailboats pulling on their moorings in a growing wind, caught inside a storm we hadn’t seen coming.