Chapter 27

PENNY

There they are again,” Jimmy says, pointing to the men on Collin’s deck.

“You’ve seen them before?”

“Mama says they’re the police,” he says. “She says that Collin is a criminal.”

“That’s nonsense,” I say quickly, though it occurs to me that Collin has told me so little of his past.

Jimmy shakes his head. “He doesn’t seem like a criminal.”

“I assure you, honey, he’s most certainly not.”

“Then why do these men keep coming to look for him?”

“Maybe they just want to talk to him.” I say. The men notice us then, waving at me and gesturing toward the dock.

A few minutes later, they appear in front of us on the dock. “Excuse me, miss,” one says. “May we have a word with you?”

I stand up. “Of course,” I say, hoping they don’t detect the quiver in my voice.

“I’m Colonel Everett, and this is my colleague,” he says. I recognize military stripes on his jacket. “We’d speak to the others on the dock, but, well, they appear to have had a bit too much to drink.”

I remember the way Dex was slurring his words, and I nod. “How can I help you?”

“You see,” the man says, “we’re looking for a Mr. Collin McCleary. Do you happen to know him?”

I nod. “Yes,” I say honestly. “He is the neighbor on the next dock.”

“You see, miss,” the man continues, “Mr. McCleary is wanted for a serious crime against the US government.”

I gasp. “What do you mean?”

“He is wanted for treason.”

I notice Jimmy’s eyes go wide beside me, and I realize that I can’t let him hear a word more of this exchange. “Honey,” I say to him, “go on inside until I’m finished talking to these gentlemen, all right?”

He obeys and walks inside. When I hear the door close behind me, I turn back to the officer.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Treason?”

“It’s a serious offense, and we want him for questioning.”

“But what has he done?”

Colonel Everett looks at his partner, then turns back to me. “He defected from his unit in Korea. He’s been living under an assumed name.”

I shake my head. This can’t be happening. “You mean Collin isn’t his real name?”

“No, ma’am, it isn’t.”

I don’t want to know his real name. I don’t want to know any of this. In the period of a minute and a half, these men in their dark suits and their lapels full of military insignia are threatening to change my view of Collin, and I don’t want to hear another word of it.

“Well,” Colonel Everett continues. “If you see him, please call this number.” He hands me a stiff white business card.

I nod despondently, and then they turn to leave. Jimmy tiptoes out to the deck a moment later. He must sense my worry, because he tucks his hand in mine. “Are you afraid?” he asks.

“I’ll be honest with you, Jimmy, darling,” I say, kneeling down so that my eyes meet his. “I am, a little.” I think of Collin’s love for me, and I know that even despite the setbacks—the moment on the dock, the unknown men who seek him so relentlessly—things will be fine. We’ll be fine. I smile. “You see, even grown-ups feel afraid sometimes.” I smooth his hair with my hand. “I wish someone would have told me that a long time ago. When I was a little girl, I thought that perfection was waiting at the end of growing up. But it hasn’t happened that way for me.”

He nods, but I know that true understanding of my words might be years away. I sigh over the painful passage of time and look out to the lake, desperate to move the seconds forward. I’m all but certain that the light brightening the nighttime horizon is Collin, my knight on a white sailboat, coming to take me away.

It takes some persuading, but I finally convince Jimmy to go home. I stay out on the deck, alone. There is no sign of Dex. The sound of music and laughter continues up the dock, so I know the party is still raging on. So I wait. And then, just after eleven, the faint light I’ve been so hopefully tracking is suddenly upon me. I see the sailboat motoring in from the dark water, the dim light of the moon reflecting on Collin’s face. He’s seated beside the tiller, and he kills the engine, letting the sailboat creep in quietly.

I rise to my full height, and wave to him with open arms. Neither of us speaks, but I can see his expression ease. A minute later, he secures the boat to the dock, and he leaps out to stand beside me. The tension between us burns. The slightest touch is certain to generate a spark, or perhaps an electric shock.

“You came,” I say, sinking into his embrace. The elation lasts but for an instant, dulled at the thought of the men who were standing on the dock just hours prior.

“Collin, we have to talk about something important.”

He looks startled and then frowns. “You still love him, don’t you?” Before I can answer, he continues. “I saw the way you were dancing with him tonight.”

“No, I—”

“I want your whole heart for my own,” he says, “but I suppose that’s more than you can give. That’s why I stormed out.” He looks at his feet, before turning his gaze up at me again, expectantly. “Penny, I’d be happy if I just had half of it.”

“Oh, Collin,” I say, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

His eyes brighten.

“There’s something else,” I say, letting go of his hand. “Two men have been looking for you. Collin, they told me that you’re being charged with treason.”

He looks silently out to the lake.

“So, it’s true?”

He raises his hands to the back of his neck and lifts off the silver chain that holds his military dog tags. I studied the metal plates on nights we were together, and held them in my hands, listening to the way they clinked together on Collin’s bare chest. I asked him to tell me about his time in the military, but he was always silent. Until now.

He opens my hand and sets the silver chain, still warm from his skin, in my palm. “They’re not mine,” he says. “I never wanted to join the military, but when I turned eighteen, my father marched me down to the station and told me it was the honorable thing to do. I wanted to make him proud, but I didn’t realize I was actually signing my life away.”

I nod and continue listening.

“At first I thought it would be adventurous, shipping off to Korea, but when I got there, I realized I had made a horrible mistake. I knew how to build boats, but I never wanted to use them to kill people. Penny, I saw death and destruction all around. Women, children were cut down by bombs and bullets. I held a little Korean boy in my arms after our attack took out his village. I held him as he took his last breath.”

I look away. This picture of war is more than I can bear.

“When my unit was hit, we were miles away from our base, on leave for the night,” Collin continues. I’m not ready to hear his story, but he needs to tell me. I hold still. “A man was badly burned. Unrecognizable. His name was Collin, and he was on his last tour. He was heading home to Washington the next day. That night I had two choices: Find my way back and continue fighting that miserable war, or take the chance to start a new life for myself.”

“So you took his dog tags,” I say. “You took his identity.”

“I did,” he says. “Penny, I’m not proud of what I did. But I have to live with my choices. And because of them I will always be running.”

“And what about his family? Do they simply think he’s missing in action?”

“When I made it home,” he says, “I went to see his folks. I told them the truth. They didn’t take it very well. They wanted their son buried properly, instead of beneath a tombstone mismarked with my name. But I gave them every cent I had, which at the time was quite a bit. I’d made four boats and assisted in the building of dozens more, so I had money saved before the war. It only seemed fitting to give it to them.”

“And that kept them silent?”

“I hoped it would,” he says. “But I guess they’ve finally gone to the authorities. I knew they would when the money ran out.”

“And you’re running now?”

He tucks his hand in mine. “Yes. Hopefully with you.”

“But . . . what you’ve done—it’s fraud. I don’t even know your real name.”

“It’s Sam,” he says. “Sam Leary.”

The name sounds strange and foreign.

“I can’t call you that,” I say.

“Then don’t.”

“How can I even be sure I know you?”

He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. “You know my heart; that’s how.”

I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Then what happens next? What are we supposed to do?”

He nods urgently. “Come away with me.”

I look back to the dock, where I hear the sound of Dexter’s deep laughter, before turning back to Collin hesitantly. “But, I—”

Collin takes a step back. He’s injured by my hesitation; I know it. But he forces a smile, determined to lighten the moment. “You still have your ticket, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, grinning as I remember the ticket stub he gave me as passage onto the boat. I’ve kept it alongside a few other prized possessions in my old chest in the living room.

Collin rubs his head and looks at me cautiously, as if considering whether to make a revelation or to keep it to himself. “There’s something else you should know.”

I think of the client who’d commissioned Collin to build the boat. “Collin, he’s not still expecting the boat is he? You don’t owe him—”

“I don’t owe him anything,” he says. “I get my payment when I deliver the boat. That was our arrangement.”

“Oh,” I say, relieved. But the troubled expression lingers on Collin’s face.

“Penny, the client, the man who commissioned this boat, is someone whose name may be familiar.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Who?”

“Robert Wentworth.”

“But that’s . . .”

“Your father-in-law.”

“Does Dexter know?”

Collin rubs his brow. “No.”

“Because Dex hasn’t spoken to his father in years.” The revelation is making my head spin. Dex has refused to accept financial assistance from his wealthy family during our marriage. And yet, I’ve always wondered. I think about the checks sent to our home from an anonymous patron—well, Dex’s biggest patron. The checks are from a corporation I don’t recognize, but the handwriting . . . all I know is that I’ve seen it before. There’s something unique about the way the sender loops his p’s and elongates his y’s. But I stop thinking of Dexter’s art then, and instead I think of Collin’s lie.

“Why did you keep this from me?” I ask.

“I, I . . . listen,” he continues. “I swore I wouldn’t say anything. For all I knew, he just wanted to buy a boat.”

I cast him a skeptical look. “From a boat maker who lives across the dock from his son?”

Collin nods. “Listen, it’s natural for a father to want to know about a son who has cut off all contact.”

I smirk, suddenly feeling protective of Dex. “And I suppose he paid you a pretty penny for all of your convenient updates.”

“Penny,” Collin pleads, “don’t be angry. Don’t let this change things between us.” He climbs into the sailboat and waits for me to follow. His expression is urgent, pleading. “Come away with me. This sailboat is ours, yours and mine. We’ll start a new life together, just as we talked about.”

I walk closer to the sailboat, then turn back to the dock, before returning my gaze to Collin. “I need more time,” I say. “I—”

Collin holds up his hand, as if to say, “Don’t tell me. I can’t bear it.”

The truth is, I don’t know what words are about to cross my lips. I love Collin; it’s true. But I can’t deny that the revelations of the investigators have clouded my decision making now. Dex. I close my eyes and rub my brow. I made a vow, and at this moment, I am not ready to break it. My past indiscretions are only temporary. I look at Collin, so strong, so sure standing aboard the sailboat. Yes, he has my heart, and I’m having his baby, but if I left tonight, it would mean forever. It would mean the end to everything I have with Dexter, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. It doesn’t feel fair to Dexter, to the vow I’ve made.

I run my hand along the smooth, varnished railing. In blue letters on the rear of the boat is the newly painted word Catalina. I smile through my tears, and he catches my eye.

“I named her for you,” he says. “You said you always wanted to go to Catalina.”

“Yes,” I say, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I thought it could be the first place we sail to,” he says.

I shake my head. “I just need more time.” My voice sounds agitated, frantic.

He unties the rope from the cleat and my heart begins to race.

“Collin,” I cry. “Collin, no, please don’t go. Not yet. Not like this.”

My heart is in my throat as he pushes off. I stand on the dock, straddling two lives—the life I live with Dexter on Boat Street and another with Collin on the sea. But Collin is slipping away now.

I reach my hands out to him, pleadingly. I haven’t meant to hurt him. “Come back for me,” I cry, this time louder. I don’t care if anyone hears me; I want him to hear me. “I love you, Collin. I will always love you.”

I watch him drift off into the darkness of the lake, and I collapse onto the dock, burying my face in my hands.

Collin will return. He has to return. I feel desperate as I pace the floors of the houseboat. I reach for a suitcase and throw it on the floor. I could pack and get into the canoe. I could go after him. I shake my head. I’d never match his speed.

I sit down on the sofa. My hands are trembling. All I can do is wait. Collin will come back for me. He just needs time. He’ll return—tonight, even. And when he does, I’ll be ready.

I walk out to the deck and fix my eyes on the lake. Every passing kayaker could be Collin. Every boat. Every duck in the distance. I don’t take my eyes off the lake. I don’t want to miss him.