even if Rory had not yet gotten the message that she was beautiful and available. Shelly hoped he would figure it out soon, or else she would have to bop him over the head with it. Daria had seemed almost dead since Pete broke off their engagement and she’d stopped being an EMT, and Shelly longed to see joy in her sister’s face. She would do anything for Daria, no matter what the cost.
“Do you know what Rory is here for?” Shelly asked.
“What?”
“He’s going to try to find out who my real mother is.”
Linda took a step away from Shelly, her eyes wide behind her round glasses.
“And how, pray tell, does he expect to do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but that’s what he plans to do. He wants to tell my story on True Life Stories. You know, about Daria finding me on the beach and all.”
Linda was quiet for a moment, doling out treats to her dogs, but not really paying much attention to them. Her lips were pursed in thought.
“Do you want to know, Shelly?” she asked finally.
“I always thought of you as just a member of the Cato family.”
“Yes, I want to know.” Shelly felt her eyes bum. Why did this surprise everyone?
“It was my idea. I wrote to him and asked him to help me.
Wouldn’t you want to know who your real mother was? “
“Yes, I guess. But what if your… real mother turns out to be a person you despise?”
“I don’t despise anyone,” Shelly said. Except maybe Ellen, she thought, and felt guilty for even thinking it.
One of the gold ens relieved himself near the horseshoe-crab shell, and Linda bent over to scoop the mess up in a plastic bag.
“Well,” Linda said as she knotted the bag and set it near her feet on the sand, “what if she turns out to be someone you feel no respect for and don’t want to spend time with or have anything to do with? How would you feel then? I mean, maybe it’s best to leave things the way they are.”
“You sound just like Daria and Chloe.” Shelly was exasperated. “The only one who wants me to find out who my mother is is Rory. I’m so glad he’s here.”
“I think Daria and Chloe… and I… are just trying to protect you from being hurt.”
“Well, I’m already hurt. Somebody dumped me on the beach when I was a baby, and my brain never got as good as it should have. So, now I’d like to meet the woman who did that. I’d like to understand why she did that to me.”
“Could you ever forgive her for doing that?”
“I can forgive anyone for doing anything,” Shelly said with certainty.
Father Sean always says that forgiveness was the most important quality a person could possess.
Linda shook her head, a smile on her lips.
“Iwish I could be a little more like you. Shelly,” she said. She whistled for her dogs, and they ran up to her. She gave them treats, then picked up the full bag.
“I’ll stop over in the next couple of days to pick out a piece of glass for the necklace, okay?” she asked.
“Okay. Is it a surprise? Should I be careful what I say around Jackie?”
“Please do,” Linda said.
“And … tell Rory not to make you agree to anything you’re not comfortable with.”
Shelly rolled her eyes.
“Right, Linda.”
She watched as Linda and the dogs walked up the beach toward the cul-de-sac, then she continued her own slow and purposeful journey. It was hard to concentrate on the shells, though, after her conversation with Linda. She wished everyone would lighten up about her trying to find her real mother. Maybe it came as a surprise to them that she even cared. She’d always known that expressing interest in the identity of her birth mother was somehow forbidden, as if that meant she hadn’t appreciated all the Catos had done for her. But suddenly Rory was giving her the freedom to say that she did indeed care. He was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. If only he would be the best thing that happened to Daria, as well.
Let’s go up to the top,” Rory said to Zack. They were standing in the small parking lot near the Currituck Lighthouse, looking up at the red brick structure. Rory started walking toward it, but Zack didn’t budge.
“Come on,” Rory said to him.
“Is there an elevator?” Zack asked as he fell into step next to Rory.
“No, but the stairs in the lighthouse are really neat,” Rory said, trying to be patient and well aware that the word neat would make Zack roll his eyes.
“It’s a spiral staircase. Gets tighter and tighter till you reach the top, and then you have a terrific view.”
“I’ll stay down here,” Zack said. He had spotted a bench in the small, green courtyard surrounding the lighthouse, and he walked over to it.
With a sense of defeat that had been mounting in him all day, Rory entered the lighthouse alone.
He paid the entry fee to the young woman sitting at the table inside the lighthouse, then began climbing the
