spring. The lighthouse would be lifted up and onto the track and moved a quarter mile inland. Paul could not picture it. He could not imagine the spit of land at Kiss River in unrelenting darkness.
Walter stood up. “It’s insanity!” he said. “It’s a godawful jackass scheme!”
“It does sound impossible,” Sondra said.
Brian Cass shook his head. “As far as I’m concerned, the historical significance of the lighthouse is down the tubes if they move it.”
“What about the sea wall?” Walter gestured wildly. “Why the hell…”
“Walter.” Alec’s voice was calm, reasonable. “That argument’s moot. This is what we have to live with.”
Walter stared at Alec for a moment. “I’m sorry, Alec. I’m going to have to take myself off this committee. I can’t be a party to that lunatic idea.”
He started toward the door, but Nola stood up and grabbed his arm. “The engineers have been working on this for years, now, Walter. You know that. You know they wouldn’t recommend moving it if they had the slightest doubt it would…”
“A bunch of little boys with a great big erector set,” Walter said. “They’re just playing. They’re experimenting with something they have no right to tamper with.” He turned to leave.
“Walter,” Alec said. “We don’t want to lose you. If you have a change of heart, please don’t let pride get in the way of coming back.”
Walter muttered something to himself and walked out the door.
The room was suddenly very still. An outboard motor started up somewhere on the sound, and the three- legged shepherd yawned and rolled over at Alec’s feet.
“Well,” Alec said finally. “Anybody else want to leave?”
Sondra Carter folded her arms across her chest. “I want to, but I won’t.”
Alec continued the meeting, talking about a few speaking engagements he had lined up. Then the committee went over a couple of fund-raising ideas, but energy lagged as the reality of the Park Service report settled over them like a lead blanket.
The meeting ended abruptly at nine, and Paul found himself reluctant to leave. He hung back from the rest of the group, cleaning up a salsa spill from the coffee table, carrying the wineglasses into the kitchen. He set them carefully in the sink, his eyes fastened on the blue horse, as he listened to Alec bidding good-night to his other guests. Paul walked back into the living room, getting as close as he could to the oval windows, but it was too dark outside. It was nearly impossible to make out the designs.
“Annie finished them even before the house was built.”
Paul turned to see Alec in the doorway. “It must have taken her forever,” he said.
“Not really. Once she got a design down, she was pretty fast. Come outside. You can see them much better from there this time of night.”
Paul followed Alec out the front door and around to the side of the house. They stood next to each other in the sand, Paul shaking his head in spellbound wonder. The windows were breathtaking.
“The thing that strikes me about her work is the realism,” he said. “You’d swear these women were real, that their dresses would feel soft and silky if you touched them.”
“That was her specialty,” Alec said. “I don’t think that even Tom, the guy she worked with, ever mastered the technique she used.”
Paul looked over at Alec, whose cheeks were splashed violet and gold from the window closest to his face. “Does it bother you to talk about her?” he asked.
“Not at all. She’s one of my favorite topics.”
Paul ran his fingertips over one of the windows, watching the color bleed onto his skin. “The night Olivia came home and told me Annie O’Neill was dead…I just couldn’t believe it. She was so alive. She was wonderful to interview.” He thought of the tapes he could not bring himself to listen to.
“It was unbelievable all right,” Alec said.
“I guess you know Olivia and I are separated.”
“Yes, she told me.” He glanced at Paul. “Do you know that’s not what she wants?”
“I know.” Paul stared at the image of a white-gowned, raven-haired woman about to take a bite from an apple. “It was completely my fault, what went wrong. Completely my doing. I felt certain when I left that it was the right thing to do, but now…I miss her sometimes, although I still have my doubts we could ever make it work again.”
“At least you have the choice. I envy you for that.” Alec gazed down at the sand for a few seconds. Then he chuckled and looked up at Paul. “I have this almost uncontrollable urge to lecture you,” he said. “You have a wife who’s pretty and smart and alive and I get the feeling you don’t realize how lucky you are and how quickly you could lose her…and I’m sorry. I don’t have any right to tell you your business.”
“Its okay,” Paul said. “I guess I’d feel the same way in your shoes.”
Alec slapped at a mosquito on his arm. “Let’s go in,” he said.
“Well, I should really get going.” Paul’s tone was unconvincing. As much as he hadn’t wanted to walk into Alec’s house earlier that evening, now he didn’t want to leave.
“Come on in for a while,” Alec said. “It’s not that late and my kids are out. I can use the company.”
“I saw pictures of your kids at Annie’s studio,” Paul said, as they walked into the house. “Your daughter looks practically identical to her.”
