there it was.
A note on the pillow.
His pulse quickened as he unfolded the piece of paper.
My dearest Charlie,
As I write this note, I can barely see my hands or hold this pen. By the time you open your eyes in the morning, I know you won’t be able to see me anymore. That is why I must go before you wake.
I’m sorry to leave without saying good-bye, but it’s easier this way. I don’t want you to see this happening to me. . . . I just want you to remember our time together.
I had hoped to stay longer. There’s so much we could have done. I only wish we had cooked a few more meals, gone to a ball game—Patriots, of course—or even sailed the world. But I’ll never forget how you opened my heart and made me feel more alive than I ever dreamed possible.
Sam told me that the timing of moving on was my decision. But apparently it’s not. I wanted to stay close to you but I can’t anymore.
I hate the thought of leaving, but I’m hopeful about what’s to come. I’m not afraid. You see, I think we were destined to meet. There’s a reason for everything, you said, and though it’s a mystery to me now, I know it won’t always be so.
Someday, we’ll be together. I believe that with all my heart. Until then, I want you to dive for dreams. I want you to trust your heart. I want you to live by love. And when you’re ready, come find me. I’ll be waiting for you.
With all my love,
Tess
Charlie felt the numbness spread from his fingers up his arms and all the way through his body. Dammit. When had he fallen asleep? How could he have let her go?
He threw on his clothes, folded the note, and put it in his shirt pocket. Tink was still clanging the bell on the dock. Charlie ran down the stairs and straight out the door. He didn’t even bother to grab a coat. He raced across the lawn, weaving between monuments, splashing through the puddles. When he got to the dock, Tink was in a lather.
“Been waiting here for twenty frigging minutes!” he said. “What took you so long?”
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said. The rain was cold, and he was shivering in his T-shirt.
“You ready? Forget your coat?”
“It’s too late,” Charlie said.
“Too late? For what? You’re the only one who’s late.”
“There’s no point anymore.” The water was streaming down his face and arms.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Tess is gone.”
“Did Hoddy call you or something? Last night you were the one who said we can’t give up on her.”
“I know,” he said, brushing the rain from his face. “I was wrong.”
“What the heck are you talking about?”
“You won’t find her out there. She’s gone.”
“Dammit, St. Cloud, you’re out of your mind.” He gunned the boat engine. “I’m going without you. And screw you for wasting my time.” He pushed away from the dock and cursed as he steered into the channel.
Charlie stood for the longest time, soaked by the freezing rain. He watched Tink’s boat disappear into the mist. Slowly, he felt himself steeling inside. The emotional fortifications were going up. The defenses and buttresses were moving into place. And just as he had done for thirteen years, he forced his mind to ignore the hurt.
It was Monday morning. The week was starting. His workers would be arriving soon. There were graves to dig. Hedges to cut. Headstones to set. And when the day was done, his little brother would be waiting.
Nothing had changed. Everything had changed.
TWENTY-SEVEN
IT WAS A MISERABLE DAY, EVEN FOR A FUNERAL. ABRAHAM Bailey, one of the richest men in town, had died in his sleep, and Charlie, bundled against the wind, was on Eastern Slope, dressing the grave. Good old Abe had made it to 101 years old. In the morbid calculus of the cemetery workers, that meant the coffin would be lighter and the job therefore easier. Centenarians never weighed much.
Charlie shrugged his shoulders at the thought. Those were the kind of grim facts he would have to ponder every day for the rest of his life. Along with the iron gates and stone walls, they were the bleak realities that immured the cemetery, like the chill in the air. He dreaded the frigid months ahead, not least because the cemetery was actually colder than anyplace in the entire county. In summer, all that marble and granite stored the heat and raised the