EPILOGUE: MAY 2009, MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND
If one knows the latitude of home port and can locate the North Star and keep it at a constant angle, it is possible simply to sail down the latitudes to find the way home.
THE HOUSE ON BAKER’S Island had just been opened for the season. Zee had packed away her mother’s chenille bedspread in the old cedar trunk. She would want to see it again one day, but not now. Today she was having a party on the island.
She’d spent most of the year in Boston, back working again, but only part-time. On weekends she’d been volunteering on Yellow Dog Island, counseling some of the women and children who had been so badly abused. She was good at it. She’d just received an offer of full-time employment from May Whitney, who ran the shelter out there, and she was seriously considering it.
Zee made herself a list of things she’d forgotten to pick up for the party and headed into town, leaving the door open for any guests who arrived early and a welcoming note on the table.
She and Melville were going to see Finch. There was a Memorial Day party at the nursing home today, an event that was doubling as a going-away party for Finch, who would be coming home next week. He didn’t know her name anymore. Didn’t know Melville either. He thought that Melville was someone who worked at the nursing home, someone who came to read to him every afternoon, almost always from Hawthorne, though lately he’d begun to favor Emerson and the other Transcendentalists, who seemed more cheerful to Finch than Hawthorne and seemed to make him happier.
When Melville suggested to them both, as he was visiting one afternoon, that Finch could probably go home if Zee would hire Melville as a full-time caregiver, Finch jumped at the chance. He wasn’t sure where home was, not anymore, but he was certain it was somewhere he’d like to go, and especially if his caregiver was coming along. He remembered something about a big house with a gabled roof and a cat named Dusty. And he seemed to remember a rooster as well.
That he clearly loved his new caregiver was apparent to anyone who watched him light up in Melville’s presence. The staff at the nursing home had been happily surprised by Finch’s improvement under Melville’s care. Though they knew it wasn’t the best practical decision, there had been no one who disagreed with the decision to take him home as long as he would be cared for by such an attentive home health aide.
The plan was for Melville to move back into the house, pretending he was a hired caregiver, with Jessina as daytime help so that Melville could keep his job, which he did only at Zee’s insistence.
Finch hadn’t been able to use his walker again; he was in a wheel-chair permanently now. Zee knew only too well what a toll the role of full-time caregiver could take, and she wasn’t about to let Melville do it alone. That was the deal, take it or leave it, she said. “You’re as much a father to me as Finch is,” she said. “I need you to be around.”
Melville took the deal.
Today they said prayers for the veterans of World War II, many of whom were residents of the nursing home, and for Vietnam and Gulf War vets as well as for the soldiers now fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. They sang “God Bless America” and drank ginger ale and ate cake that was decorated with red, white, and blue sugar. Zee drank the ginger ale but passed on the cake.
When Finch fell asleep, they wheeled him back to his room and helped him into bed. They kissed his forehead and walked out together. He opened his eyes and smiled at Melville.
Zee picked up a few last things for the party. Since Mickey’s boat was too small for more than two people, Melville had loaned him the lobster boat. This way Mickey could transport most of the guests out to Zee’s party on Baker’s Island. Zee and Melville planned to take the water shuttle out to the island when Finch’s event was over.
They waited for the water shuttle for almost an hour. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, Zee turned to Melville. “Come on,” she said.
She drove back to Derby Wharf and parked in Mickey’s space. Then she went to the slip where the dory was kept.
“Please tell me we’re not taking the dory,” Melville said.
“Why not?” Zee said. She’d taken the dory many times.
“Because it’s a heap of junk, to say nothing of Mickey’s elaborate security system.” Melville pointed to the wires and ropes and padlocks.
“Piece of cake,” Zee said.
She had the boat unlocked in less than a minute. Then she shorted the wires to start the engine.
“Get in,” she said to Melville.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “You’re back to stealing boats.” But he was smiling.
MELVILLE WATCHED ZEE AT THE controls, guiding the dory out over calm waters. About two-thirds of the way out, the motor coughed and died.
She choked the engine, tried several times to restart it, but it was dead.
“Damn,” he said. “He never did take decent care of this thing.”
He was looking around for someone to flag down when Zee started to row.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she said, liking the idea. “It’ll be fun.”
He started to protest, but she was so into the idea that he just let it go. “Let me know when you want me to spell you,” he said.
It took her more than an hour and a half, but she never asked him to take over. Melville put his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun.
When they finally got to the wharf, Mickey and Ann were waiting.
“You stole my goddamned boat!” Mickey said. “I didn’t tell you that you could take my boat.”
“Why were you rowing?” Ann asked.
“Your goddamned boat’s engine broke down,” Melville said.
“No way,” Mickey said, climbing in to see for himself.
“The water taxi didn’t show up,” Zee said to Ann. “So we borrowed Mickey’s dory.”
Ann nodded, amused.
“Where is he?” Zee asked, looking up at the house.
“He’s working the grill,” Ann said. “We ate already, but he saw the boat coming and started cooking again for you two.”
Zee and Melville walked up the ramp toward the island. At the top of the wharf, she turned right toward the cottage. Melville stood looking down the cliffs and into the ocean below.
“Are you coming?” she asked.
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll catch up in a bit.”
Zee nodded and hurried her pace. When she got close to the house, she laughed. Hawk was at the grill, wearing a chef’s apron and the old straw hat with a big hole in the top where the mice had stolen the silk flower.
“Nice look,” she said.
Mattei and Rhonda stood next to Hawk. Jessina and Danny sat at the picnic table, trying to figure out how to make the coffee.
Hawk grinned. “Come here,” he said, kissing her for a long time. “I’ve got the burgers going, but we need either you or Melville to make cowboy coffee.”
He’d already brought out the pot and the egg. She took it and handed it to Danny. “Throw it into the pot as hard as you can,” she said.
“You’re kidding me, right?” the boy said.
“Nope.” Zee held the pot while Danny wound up and threw.
“I’d say you’ve got a future Red Sox pitcher there,” Mattei said to Jessina.
