three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen indicating that he was typing.
Me, too. Can’t sleep.
You should come here.
She sent the text somewhat recklessly.
To your house?
To the inn. No one will think it’s weird if a car shows up late.
Are you sure?
Yes. I want to show you something.
Okay. Text when I’m there.
Without thinking, Emma got out of bed and put on a thick woolen sweater, then she got a heavy coat out of her closet. She had a giant, old-fashioned flashlight, metal and substantial, just like the ones in all the guest rooms, with a label that said it was property of the Lighthouse Inn.
She kept it on hand in case she wanted to walk up to the lighthouse, which wasn’t an uncommon thing, though she hadn’t done it in a long time.
It was an experience, going up there at night, when all eight lights were on and the lens was rotating.
It had been her favorite place to hang out with her dad.
It was hard to believe that she would be graduating in just a couple of weeks.
And he wouldn’t be there.
Suddenly, the urge to show Luke the lighthouse felt nearly desperate.
Life didn’t wait. That was the thing.
And she’d been playing games. Keeping Luke separate, even if he wasn’t a secret. And she wanted him...
Here.
The Light will always lead you home...
She hadn’t been able to go there since her dad had died. But it was home, and it always would be. The essence of this place that had shaped who she was.
Life could be scary.
But life was also short, and if she’d learned anything over the last few months it was that. That people could just be gone from your life, and you couldn’t have them back. You couldn’t say what you hadn’t said. You didn’t get a chance to do things over.
Her father had always wanted to do great things with his photography, but he hadn’t had the chance, because he’d gotten sick.
She didn’t have infinite time. She didn’t have infinite chances.
No one did.
But Emma had been given a great and terrible gift, in that she knew just how much truth there was in that.
Her father had had such a limited amount of time.
Emma had no idea how much time she had.
It suddenly felt so short and fleeting, and she wanted to make it all count. Wanted to make it all big.
Her phone buzzed.
Here.
She looked out the window, and saw that her mom’s car wasn’t there.
That was strange.
She’d been out late a bit lately, and Emma didn’t have a clue as to what she was doing. One time, when she hadn’t been around, Anna had said something about a girls night, which had irritated Emma, because if it was a group of the old friends that her mom had hung out with before her dad had gotten sick, then they used to be included in that.
And it made her feel angry that her mom would join a group that excluded Anna.
Though, she supposed her mom needed friends no matter what shape they came in.
And, anyway, it was convenient for Emma.
She went down the hall, and paused at her parents’ bedroom, her heart in her throat. Then she pushed open the door and went in.
She didn’t know what she’d expected to find. A ghost. Pain. But there was nothing but the blandness of an empty bed.
She touched the bracelet on her wrist, and suddenly she understood.
Her dad wasn’t here. This wasn’t a tomb.
He wasn’t contained in the ashes her mom had spread out over the sea.
He was with her.
He was her light. And he would always guide her home.
She didn’t have to fear an empty room, an empty bed, a future that stretched out wide before her with no certainty.
Because he and her mom had made her into someone who could endure, find her way, stand strong.
Losing him was sad. There was no other way to see it.
But having him had been an immense gift.
And it was one she had. She couldn’t lose sight of that in the middle of her grief. Couldn’t lose sight of the gifts because of the loss.
She clattered down the stairs and out the front door, then turned on the flashlight and watched the beam wave wildly as she jogged across the lawn and toward the little parking lot.
Luke was there, leaning against the truck, and her heart jumped.
“Hi,” she said.
“What’s going on?”
“I wanted to show you this. The lighthouse.”
“In the dark?”
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see. “Silly. That’s the best