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She bent to kiss him, but when he tried to wrap her in his arms, she evaded capture and climbed off the bed, and when he saw her determined expression, he sighed dramatically. A short while later they were headed out to explore the island, with Elizabeth behind the wheel of the rental car.
“This road will take us into Vineyard Haven, and from there we can drive up to Aquinnah. It'll take about forty-five minutes or so.”
“What's in Aquinnah?” he asked.
“The cliffs. I thought we could start there, then work our way back toward Oak Bluffs.”
“You're the tour guide. Lead the way.”
About ten minutes later, Elizabeth pulled over in front of a row of older homes that neatly lined the busy street. They had large front yards, shaded by enormous oak trees, and she stared at one in particular for a long moment.
“Is that your grandparents’ house?” he asked.
She nodded. “It looks okay. I mean, it doesn’t look like it did when my grandparents owned it, but it’s not horrible.”
“It’s a nice house.”
“That small door on the garage was my grandfather's workshop. I used to go in there when he was working. I loved the smell of the sawdust.”
“What's the little building in the front yard?”
“It was a farm stand. My grandmother used to can the vegetables from their garden and sell them. She also sold homemade jellies and jams, and they had two huge chicken coops in the backyard and sold fresh eggs. Jane and Lydia and I would set up a lemonade stand right next to it, and we'd split the day's profits.” She sighed. “It's still hard for me to grasp that this house isn't a part of my life anymore. It sounds silly, because it's just a house, but…so much of my childhood happened within those walls.”
“It’s not silly. I’m sorry if talking about it makes you sad.” He squeezed her hand. “I enjoyed listening to the stories your aunt and uncle told about your childhood adventures.”
She laughed softly and pulled them back into the light traffic. “Those adventures usually got me into trouble—though my grandfather always bailed me out. He'll always be a giant to me. Invincible. He’d take me clamming with him, and I’d follow him around, trudging through the tidal flats, digging for clams, and trying to catch minnows and crabs… I was like his second shadow. I can still remember trying to fit into his giant waders."
They drove the winding roads of Tisbury and Aquinnah, and thirty minutes later they arrived at the cliffs. After parking they made their way up the hill that led to a handful of shops, where they briefly browsed before walking further, to the best vantage point for viewing the cliffs.
The weather couldn't have been more perfect, with a blue, cloudless sky as far as the eyes could see, and they approached the fence around the edge of the lookout.
“Wow,” he said. “This is absolutely beautiful. What causes those shades of red in the cliffs?”
“It's clay. Years ago, you could climb them and take a hunk of clay for a souvenir, but they made it illegal when they realized it accelerated the erosion process.”
They took a lot of pictures, and after one last look at the view, they walked back to the car.
“Where to next?” he asked.
“Why don't we go into Oak Bluffs? There's a lot to see, and plenty of great places to grab lunch. And we can visit the Flying Horses.”
“I never asked, what is that? Or what are they?”
She grinned. “You'll see.”
A short while later, Will found himself atop the smallest, skinniest carousel horse he’d ever ridden. Of course, he hadn’t ridden many carousels in his lifetime.
“I can't believe I'm doing this.”
Elizabeth laughed and looked back at him from her perch atop the steed in front of his, and she lifted her camera from the strap around her neck and snapped a quick picture. Everywhere around them were children, the oldest of which was probably twelve. The only other adults riding the carousel were those holding their toddlers in place atop the horses.
“Just relax and grab the rings,” she called back to him, just as the carousel slowly began to move and the most horrible sounding music began to blare from the speakers in the center.
“Grab the what?” he asked loudly.
“The rings! Just watch.”
The carousel made several rotations, and then a man sitting on a set of stairs swung a long wooden arm toward the carousel. At the end of the wooden arm was a large silver ring, and as the riders passed the arm, they’d hook their finger through the ring and pull it out, allowing another ring to slide down in its place.
