Brunonia Barry - The Map of True Places

Seeing Mickey was like looking at Maureen. Their eyes were the same. But as soon as Mickey spoke, the illusion shattered.

“Hi, Melville. What can I do you for?”

It was an old New England expression, but the twist was implicit.

“Funny,” Melville said.

“I want to talk to you about your niece,” Melville said. “I’m worried about her.”

Mickey listened without interrupting to insert his usual sarcasm. In the end he promised to help out. To take Finch out once in a while, just to give Zee some relief.

“You were friends once,” Melville said by way of justifying his request. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. Mickey had already agreed.

“Age-old rule,” Mickey said. “Stop selling when you get to yes.”

“Thank you,” Melville said. He started toward the door.

“Hey,” Mickey said, calling him back.

“What?” Melville said.

“I may never like you,” Mickey said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what you do for my niece.”

TODAY ANN WAS READING lace. She’d been doing this more and more in the last few years, ever since her friend Towner Whitney had given her all of her late Aunt Eva’s pieces. Ann thought of the lace as another reader might think of a crystal ball, something that you gazed into to help you see images. She’d done two readings before lunch and was now turning and crumpling a piece of black antique lace in an effort to gain more perspective about her regular customer, the one who wanted so badly to get married.

What she got was more of the same, a bad relationship that was getting worse by the moment. Ann thought it was time to tell the girl everything, and she was just trying to find the words when an image began to form in the lace. It looked like a vine, and it was moving. Ann watched as the vine turned to feathers and one of the longer feathers turned into a woman’s neck. Ann realized that what she was looking at was a swan. And then she saw something in the lace that she’d never seen before, but something she’d heard her friend Eva describe from her own lace reading. The swan began to move, and it turned to a man, and she recognized Melville.

The hopeful bride looked strangely at Ann, who had been staring, trancelike, into the lace for a very long time. The breeze from the ocean cooled the room, breaking the spell. Ann turned toward the open door in time to see Melville walking away from Mickey’s shop and across the parking lot toward town.

She excused herself, hurried to the door, and called to him. He turned around. She could see that he was upset. He waved to her, but he didn’t stop.

ZEE PAID JESSINA TO stay until morning. Her son was on an overnight at Children’s Island Camp, and she was free.

They took Hawk’s boat to Clark Landing in Marblehead and walked over to the Barnacle for dinner. She could see Children’s Island from here and thought about Jessina’s son, who had helped her clean out some of Finch’s things just the week before.

They sat on the porch and watched as dogs played on the patch of beach below. They skipped dessert in favor of getting ice cream on the way back. After dinner they walked up to Fort Sewall and sat on a bench looking out to sea. All of the border islands were visible from here: Children’s, the Miseries, and Baker’s Island with its lighthouse off to the north. In the middle distance, she could see Yellow Dog Island, the shelter for abused women and children. Zee thought about May Whitney, who ran the shelter, and the great work she was doing out there. Zee wished that she had been able to do as much for Lilly.

But she didn’t want to think about Lilly tonight, didn’t want the thought to come between them. Instead she concentrated on the beautiful view. It was Race Week in Marblehead, and sailors from all over the world had come to compete. A long line of spinnakered J/24s moved along the horizon.

“Mickey says you could make your way across the ocean just by looking at the stars.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” Hawk laughed. “The Park Service is running a class in celestial navigation, if you’re interested.”

“Didn’t you teach that class?” She thought she remembered him saying something about teaching such a class.

“Just a few classes,” he said. “I’m not a teacher.”

“Not a carpenter, not a teacher. It must be nice to know what you’re not,” she said.

“Are you having doubts about your career?” It was a real question.

“Let’s change the subject,” she said.

“I understand that we can’t talk about Lilly, but now we can’t talk about your career either?”

“The two are hopelessly intertwined, I’m afraid.”

He sat silently for a minute.

“I think I need to talk about it,” he said.

“About your career?”

“About Lilly Braedon,” he said.

“I understand why that might be true,” she said.

“That’s just it, I don’t think you do.”

“Nevertheless,” she said.

It was meant to politely end the conversation, but it had the opposite effect on Hawk.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “If you’re having trouble reconciling your feelings about her death, and you need someone to talk to, I can give you some names. It just can’t be me.”

He was clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I understand that you might be angry at me.”

“I’m not angry,” he said. “Let’s drop it.”

THEY WALKED BACK TOWARD THE car in silence. At sunset the cannons from the yacht clubs fired, the blasts echoing around the harbor.

She assumed that the date was over. But she noticed Hawk’s mood lifting as they reached Coffey’s ice-cream shop. The line was out the door.

“Do you still want ice cream?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I mean, if you do.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We have to do something to save the evening.”

He held the door for her, and she walked inside. “Do you know what you’d like?” Hawk asked, still formal but softening a bit.

“Not really,” she said, looking at the display case. She’d bought ice cream for Finch, always coffee. Michael had been a Häagen-Dazs guy, either that or gelato. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d ordered ice cream for herself. It was ridiculous to be flustered by such a small thing, but there it was. He was waiting for her choice, and she didn’t have one. She felt suddenly the way a little kid might feel. The decision seemed monumental. Her mind raced. She thought back to what she would have ordered as a kid. “Moose Track and Bubble Gum with gummi bears,” she said.

“You’re kidding,” he said. “I was going to order that, too.”

“Funny,” she said.

THEY SAT ON ANOTHER BENCH down by the landing eating their ice cream. In the harbor, sailors blasted signals for the launches. The owner of the ice-cream store locked up and walked to his car, nodding to them as he passed.

“Show me how to navigate by the stars,” she said.

He looked at her strangely but didn’t respond.

“I’d really like to learn.”

“There are too many lights here,” he said. “You can’t see the stars well enough for a lesson. Plus, you have to take your readings at dawn or dusk when you can still see the horizon.”

“Too bad,” she said.

“Maybe another time,” he said, meaning it.

THEY SAT FOR A WHILE longer. “What do you want to do now?” she asked. “I hired Jessina for the whole night.”

He thought about it. “I have a place up the street,” he said, “though it’s pretty much a dump.”

She didn’t have to be back until morning, so going to his place would be the easiest thing to do. But she wanted to offer something more, something of herself she couldn’t explain to him in words, so she made a counterproposal. “I might have a better place,” she said.