Chapter 20
It was two in the morning when Peter arrived in Chatham, and as he opened the Michaels’ front door the burglar alarm went off. Richard came pounding down the stairs with a wooden baseball bat raised high, Sheila behind him in her rollers and flannel nightgown.
Peter reached for the light switch and waved his hands. “Dad, it’s me! It’s me! I’m sorry.”
“Peter? What are you doing here?”
“What’s wrong?” Sheila held up a golf club. “Who is it?”
Richard put down the bat and keyed a combination of numbers into the alarm panel, and after two more annoying beeps the alarm turned off. “You scared us half to death, son.”
“I didn’t mean to. I completely forgot the alarm. I just needed to come home.”
“Honey, are you okay?” Sheila laid the golf club on the hall table.
“Tara’s dad died today.”
“What?” Richard turned.
“I’m so sorry.” Sheila hugged him.
“Come in and sit down.” Richard took Peter’s arm, pulling him to his own leather recliner in the dim living room, and sat on the couch across from him. Richard patted Peter’s knee, and Peter smiled faintly as he grasped Richard’s hand.
Sheila pulled over an ottoman and rubbed Peter’s back. “Can I make you something, anything?”
“No, Mom. I’m fine. I’m just having a really bad night. I’m embarrassed to say it’s not for the reasons you think.”
Sheila moved closer.
“What’s going on?” Richard’s voice was serious.
Peter leaned forward. “Tara’s dad had a massive heart attack. He died on his way to the hospital.”
“Oh, honey. Tara must be a mess.” Sheila stroked his head.
“It was pretty bad. I took her to her mother’s.”
“But why do I get the feeling that’s not why you’re here?” Richard reached to turn on a lamp on an end table that cast a small circle of light.
“Because you’re right.” Peter looked up. “It’s not. I wasn’t even close to him. I feel terrible about it, but the real reason I’m here is that I needed to get away. Before I found Tara crying, I was practicing how to break it off with her.” He paused. “I just returned from my trip to Colorado.”
“Colorado?” Sheila turned to Richard.
Peter took a deep breath. “I had to come and tell you in person.”
Richard and Sheila sat quietly and listened in the lamplight as Peter told them about Maddy and Boxer, the school and the children, Ann and Tom Marsden. He told them about Tara and how it broke his heart that he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings. Most of all he told them about the kiss he had shared with Maddy.
Finally Sheila leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead. “You have been through so much. I had no idea.”
“Mom, just being with her made me feel as if we’d never been apart.” Peter stood to pace the length of the living room and back in the low light of the lamp. “She’s the same person I was in love with all those years ago. Losing her sight hasn’t diminished her character or personality or charisma. It magnifies her best qualities—I can see myself loving her more than ever, if that’s possible.” He sat down next to Richard on the couch and leaned back, and Sheila quietly unfolded a crocheted afghan over his knees. Peter closed his eyes. “I’m going to figure this out. I have to. I’m just so tired.”
Sheila looked at Richard, who shook his head. She nodded and signaled back.
“Peter.” Richard spoke in a low voice. “When Madeline left, do you remember what you said? What you told us?”
“Vaguely. All I really remember is losing my mind trying to find her.” Behind his closed eyes, he could still see the photo of himself his parents had mounted on the wall across from the couch, twenty-two years old on the sailboat, with his dark hair in his eyes, his gaze on the horizon.
And after a long moment he remembered.
1966
Peter stood at the pay phone at the dock, his shoulders hunched in his down jacket, the wind blowing his hair over his shoulders and into his face. “I tried that! They don’t know anything. None of the neighbors know. I just saw Mr. Marsden’s car in the driveway in the middle of the afternoon yesterday, and now there’s a For Sale sign on the lawn. Also today, I found an envelope in our mailbox, no return address, with the silver chain inside. She broke up with me, Jake! I don’t understand what I did wrong. No, I can’t calm down! I know, I know. I’ll call you. I’m going home and see if my parents have gotten any news. Thanks.”
Peter hung up and walked anxiously along the dock past his sailboat, tied up and covered. Seagulls flew overhead as he quickened his pace, started a light jog, and accelerated to a full run. His breathing was loud as his feet hit the wet ground. He ran to the end of the dock and across the street and continued the eight blocks home.
Amy, on the couch, turned quickly as he came in out of breath. “Anything?”
“Nothing at all.”
Sheila came in from the kitchen and looked at Amy. “Peter, we need to talk. You’re driving yourself mad. Your father and I are worried about you.”
“I have to find her, Mom. There’s a reason Maddy left the way she did—”
“We understand that, son.” Richard came down the stairs behind Sheila. “We do. However, you’ve put your whole life on hold, and this can’t continue. What happened was awful, but it’s been months now. You’re falling behind in school. Your grades are rock bottom. At this rate, you could even lose your scholarship to grad school. Maybe this is—”
“What, Dad? For the best?” Peter clenched his fists. “I don’t want to hear that!”
“Peter!” Sheila said sternly.
‘Mom, it’s not true.” He turned to her. “It’s not for the best, and this isn’t a sign from God that there’s someone else for me. Maddy and I are in love. What we have is unique, and she knows it as well as I know. There has to be a reason she disappeared. I’m not going to go back to my life as if nothing had happened. Something did happen, something terrible and not you, nor Dad, nor Amy, nor anyone is going to tell me otherwise.”
“He didn’t mean that.” Amy reached toward him.
“Son, what if things have changed?”
Sheila glanced at Richard.
“What things?” Peter whirled toward him, his eyes harsh.
“What if Madeline’s changed? What if something she can’t possibly—” Sheila stopped and looked up at Richard.
“What are you getting at, Mom? That she fell in love with someone else? No! Not possible. I know her inside and out, and behind those beautiful eyes is the most honest person in the world.”
“But something out of her control—an illness—”
“Is Maddy ill? Did you find out something? Because I will go wherever I have to go, do whatever I have to do for her. I want you to know that nothing else matters. Not my future, not school, not my career, nothing.”
“Not even meeting Rob Rowland, that architect you admire so much?” Richard raised his voice. “Not even everything you’ve studied and worked for? Grad school starts in September. You only have this summer to prepare. You know how long that waiting list was—”
“Richard.” Sheila spoke with fear. “Tell him if he drops out of school now he’ll be drafted. He’ll be sent to Vietnam.” Her voice shook.
“I don’t care!” Peter shouted. “I’ll drop everything the minute I find her!”
“Oh, sweetheart,” cried Sheila, as Richard took a step toward him.
“Don’t touch me—” Peter’s face contorted, almost unrecognizable.
Sheila put her hand behind her back and looked up at Richard, who stood motionless, glaring helplessly. Richard glanced down at Sheila. Finally, Sheila turned away from Peter, a piece of paper in her hand.
1985
Peter woke up under the afghan on the couch as the morning sunlight began to stream into the room and across him. Sheila was in the kitchen, where he could hear her plugging in the coffee pot and opening the refrigerator. Richard’s footsteps sounded quietly across the kitchen floor. Sheila began beating batter in a bowl, and Richard poured himself a cup of coffee.
Just as Peter was opening his eyes, Richard cleared his throat. “You know we’re going to have to tell him.”