SUNSET
After lunch the kids wanted to go to the beach but Stephanie told them she was tired and wanted to stay close to the house. Not that she expected anyone to show up. She was certain now. It had all been a fantasy, a fantasy fueled by grief and denial. She was beyond all of that now. Call it due diligence. She was just seeing the thing through.
Haden caught a lizard and Sophie helped him make a terrarium in a shoebox. The box would periodically shake and jump as the kids pored over a thousand-piece puzzle of a van Gogh self-portrait. Stephanie left them and went outside to sit and watch the waves.
As the sun finally rejoined the sea, balancing on edge for an impossible moment before breaking the surface tension and beginning to sink slowly beneath the long swells, she poured herself a glass of white wine and walked down the cement stairs to the beach. There was no sand here, just uneven rock studded with black volcanic boulders and slick tidal pools. The land had begun to shed its heat and the flow changed to a light offshore breeze that blew wisps of Stephanie’s hair into her face.
She sighed deeply as she watched the great orange ball dissolve into a stain across the water. Tomorrow she’d have to figure out what their next step would be, but it would wait. She’d think about that tomorrow. She smiled, picturing Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind, resolute before the painted backdrop of Tara.
She was about to head back up to the house when she saw the tiny figure just rounding the point, picking his way carefully over the rocks. Some trick of foreshortening made it seem that he could walk indefinitely without ever getting any closer. She couldn’t make out any features but he seemed to favor his right side; there was a slight hitch in his walk. Finally, she could discern light-colored trousers and a darker shirt, facial hair, maybe. Then, as he followed the swing of the shoreline, he disappeared from sight for several minutes. Waves lapped at the shore with a light slap and a yawning retreat. Time was suspended.
Then he reappeared, closer now. He was painfully thin; his shirt hung on his frame.
Bearded. He was protecting his right arm; he used the left to brace himself against the boulders but kept the right close to his side. She searched his face, squinting her eyes in the failing light. He was no more than a hundred yards away now. He looked up and their eyes met for the first time. They were different. The shape...they seemed a little wider and maybe more rounded. But there was a familiar light in them. A light she hadn’t seen in a long, long time.