Started it up and eased out into the sound under that full moon. I pushed the throttle forward and let the boat run free. I was crying, but I was going so fast the tears didn’t even hit my cheeks.” She blinked, as if reliving the moment.
“Oh my gosh. Maeve.”
“I know. It was a little crazy.”
“A lot!”
“I finally stopped the boat and drifted until morning when the sun rose. I’ll be honest, a hundred plans came together and fell apart over those hours. Eventually, I leaned over the side of the boat, holding that shell, then dropped it overboard.”
“For Jarvis.” Amanda’s sigh was almost a cry.
“The splash was followed by a gulping sound as the water filled the hollow of the shell and it sank to the depths. I watched it disappear. Gone. Like Jarvis.” Her pause hung with heavy sorrow. “I sat out for hours that day, but late that afternoon I motored back and docked the boat. I packed away the foul-weather gear, opened all the windows in the house, and cleaned it top to bottom. It’s the day I started over.”
“It’s so hard to go on.” Amanda brushed away a tear on her chin. “To know what to cling to, and what things are anchoring me to a past that—”
“Grief will tear you out of the frame if you let it, Amanda. Until I got my focus off of me and started looking for my purpose, I was a mess.” She’d almost forgotten she had the journal with her. “I brought you something. It was a gift to me when Jarvis passed. The ladies at the church gave it to me. It has my name on it, but I thought you might still like it.” She handed it to Amanda.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It is. I never could bring myself to write in it. Isn’t that silly? I use twenty-five cent spiral notebooks instead, and I’ve kept that up. You should see the stack of cheap notebooks on my bookcase.”
“That’s funny.” Amanda pressed the journal between her palms.
“It inspired me to write down my thoughts, so it was probably the best gift I ever received. Sometimes you just have to get the words out into the world. Like talking to the wind, the sea, the sand. Anyway, I hope having it might bring you some inspiration to try that. It couldn’t hurt.”
“Thank you. This is such a thoughtful gift.” She set it aside, her hand resting on top of it as she looked down the beach. “Thank goodness I’ve got those two.” Her eyes seemed lasered in on the children covered in sand, smiling, making memories as if they didn’t have a care in the world. “I can’t figure out how to keep Jack’s death from lingering inside them their whole lives.”
“Be careful, Amanda. Just like my only life purpose wasn’t to be Jarvis’s wife, yours doesn’t stop at being a mother.”
Amanda straightened, a flash of hurt in her eyes.
“It’s a very important role,” Maeve added quickly, “but there’s more to your life. You have to share your gifts, and you’ll do some of that through your children, but we are meant to share them more broadly.”
“Gifts again? I don’t have time for anything but them.” She lifted her chin toward the kids. “I don’t have anything left. No gifts. No energy.”
“Quit looking like I’ve asked you to walk the plank. Seriously, everyone has gifts. We just don’t always see them in ourselves as easily.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing we’ve become friends, because if there’s a gift in here somewhere, you’re going to have to help me find it. It’s likely to be quite a treasure hunt.”
They laughed easily.
“I can do that,” Maeve said. “Challenge accepted.”
Jesse raced from the water up to Amanda. “Mom, we’re starving. Hailey told me to ask if we can please have lunch now.”
“Sure. I bet Maeve is starting to get hungry again too.”
“I am.” Maeve rubbed her tummy, and Jesse mimicked her.
Without another word, he went to get his sister. The two of them ran back, Hailey easily winning the race.
Amanda opened a series of plastic containers.
“Would you look at this spread!” Maeve leaned in taking a closer look.
Hailey’s pigtails bobbed. “We helped make it.”
“You did? What is this?” Maeve pointed to the fruit-and-cheese kabobs.
“Caterpillars!” Jesse sat next to her, so close that he was practically on her lap.
“Ooh. You eat caterpillars?” She scrunched her face. “I don’t know about that. I’m not a bird.”
“Not that kind of caterpillar. It’s really