Will smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ronnie. And it’s good to see you, Merrow. How is your leg after all these years?”
I wore a green silk dress that Rosalie had given me on my last birthday and gold leather sandals I had found at Goodwill. I turned and showed him my bare calf. A series of small, pale scars formed a rough circle. Since they were on the back of my leg, I almost never thought of them, but there were times when, out of the blue, my calf would throb. I always thought of my brother, not Rosalie’s dog, when this happened. I felt Bear’s hand encircling my leg, his fingers clawing at the wound on that last day I’d spent at Horseshoe Cliff. I would shiver then and feel glad to be far away from him. In four years, he had not contacted me, but it did not mean that I felt free.
“Well,” Will said. He seemed uncertain how to respond. “I’m glad it healed.”
“Well,” I said, “I’m glad your parents put me through college.”
He burst into a surprised laugh. “I suppose it was the least they could do.”
At the sound of his laughter, I felt myself relax. “Where are they, anyway?”
“Emma is in the kitchen—”
“She loves to cook.”
“Yes, she does. Wayne is running late, as usual. And Mom—last time I saw her, she was working on a toast.”
“A toast?”
“You don’t know? Rosalie Langford is famous for her toasts. Emma’s middle school graduation was really something special. And I’ve been the honoree a few times myself.” I knewfrom Rosalie that Will had graduated from law school and was working downtown.
“She takes no prisoners with these toasts,” he continued, warning me. “There won’t be a dry eye in the house.”
“Oh boy,” said Ronnie. “I didn’t wear waterproof mascara.”
“Shame,” said Will, catching my eye and smiling.
LATER, AFTERROSALIEand Wayne and Emma made their entrances and I introduced them to Ronnie, I walked my friend over to the window to show her the impressive view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay. Neither of us could keep our gaze in the direction of the windows for long.
“Ugh,” Ronnie whispered. “Underneath all that...”—she nodded in Will’s direction—“hotness,he must be awful.” She was on her second glass of champagne, and her cheeks were pink. “I bet he’s totally full of himself. I bet he doesn’t read novels... orevereat dessert before dinner... or date short women. No one that handsome is a good person.”
“I think he is, actually,” I said. I had never forgotten that he had been the one who convinced his mother to invite me inside their home after her dog had bitten me. Rosalie had become a sort of fairy godmother in my life, but it was Will who had persuaded her to feel that first pang of empathy. I remembered, quite suddenly, how Will had lifted me into his arms and carried me inside. “I think he’s very kind and a little reserved and—”
“Oh my god.”Ronnie’s left dimple deepened to the point that you could have rested a tack in it without injuring her. “That’shim,isn’t it? That’s the guy you’ve been pining for all these years?”
“What?” I said. “No.” I was saved from saying anything more by Rosalie’s announcement that dinner was ready.
“WHENIMETMerrow she was a girl—a rather terrifyingly scrappy and articulate sixteen-year-old girl,” said Rosalie, standing at the head of the table with a champagne glass in her hand. “She stood fearlessly on the edge of soaring cliffs, she killed chickens with her bare hands when duty called, and she scaled very, very high walls around strangers’ private property because she was curious about how other people lived.” Rosalie raised her eyebrows in my direction.
“She also loved reading novels. And she was a writer. She spoke of the sea, of her home, in the way that a poet writes about love. She had a bright light within her, and she was unafraid to let it shine.”
Rosalie paused, glancing at the slip of paper in her hand. I was astonished to see that her eyes glistened. I had known her to be compassionate, protective, and frequently droll, but I had never seen her as sentimental.
Don’t cry,Bear growled in my ear.
I clenched my teeth together.He’s not here,I reminded myself. My memory of him loomed so large that it cast me, momentarily, in shadow.
“The light within Merrow,” Rosalie continued, “has only grown brighter as she has become an adult. She has chosen to shine this light on others. As she continues to embrace herposition as a role model and friend to our city’s youth, I am comforted to know that so many lives will change for the better, as mine has, thanks to her unique spirit.” Rosalie held up her glass. “Merrow, as you graduate from college and embark on the start of a new and exciting time in your life, I want to say congratulations on all your hard work. I am so very proud of you.”
No one had ever told me that they were proud of me. I looked around the table at the faces of my friends and felt their kindness envelop me. I longed to stay in that moment.
Still, my eyes brimmed with tears that refused to fall.
LATER, WHILEEMMAwas giving Ronnie a tour of the house, I stepped onto the balcony. The night was cool but there was no wind. The sun had almost set. The Langfords’ view was of the Bay and the bridge, but a sliver of ocean was visible, too. Its presence in the distance always reminded me that my father had once thought of the ocean as an enormous, sleeping animal. I leaned against the railing and looked out toward it.
Within moments I was overcome by the sense that I was being watched. It was not a bad feeling, but on the contrary left me comforted. I thought of how after I learned that my mother had died falling from the cliff, I always felt her watching me when I stood on the beach. The feeling that I experienced in that moment on the Langfords’ balcony was similar: I was watched by someone who cared deeply for me.
I turned when I heard the door to the balcony open. It was Will, and he had a white blanket in his hand.
