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Strangely, Freddy didn’t ask Ginny how she was doing or promise her Mack was in a better place or anything like that. That’s what Ginny had braced herself for, not a long walk into the wind, until they reached the two-story plunge to the ocean below.
Locals, she’d learned, called it the Cliff Walk, like there wasonly one worth mentioning. The gables of Windward Hall poked into the sky fifty feet away, partially hidden by scruffy stands of white cedars and fir.
Freddy stopped and strolled to the edge, sitting and dangling his legs toward the sheer layers of wind-scoured stone in mottled gray.
Fine.She wouldn’t be bested by a one-eyed vet, not that easily. Ginny sat beside him, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness when she looked at the rocks below, struck with seafoam. Back on the island, they had plenty of trees, three sandy beaches, even promontories for whale watching—but all of them were flat and level, like God intended. “That’s a fair piece down.”
He nodded, pointing at the beach. “It was just about there that we met for the first time, when I was out walking Jeeves.”
“Should have brought him with you.” At least that would have given them something to talk about. “I hear dogs are supposed to be able to help with grief, so you could check me off your list and leave me in peace.”
“Hey now.” He frowned. “You’re no charity case, Ginny. We only wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Here it came. He’d been waiting for the right moment, when they were too far away from her apartment to retreat. “I’m fine.”
“That’s what Delphie said you would say. She also told me not to believe it.”
Wise old crone, that one. Maybe Ginny wasn’t fine exactly, but there was nothing Freddy could do about it. “Sometimes, a body just needs time alone after ... after they’ve lost someone.”
“I’ll grant you that. I’ve done the same myself.”
For the first time, despite the lingering suspicion about his past, Ginny was glad Freddy was the one they’d sent. He, more than the others, knew the unfairness of funerals without bodies and grief without someone to blame.
“But it’s been a while, and it feels like you’re pushing us away, Ginny. All of us.”
It wasn’t like she’d planned on dropping out of the book club. When last Saturday had come, it had just felt like too much. “Why does it matter? I told you from the start, I’m not staying here long.”
He shrugged. “What does that have to do with it? I plan to go back to my family after the harvest, but you don’t see me pulling away, pretending not to care so it’ll be easier to leave.”
Now he was just being difficult. “That’s not what I’m doing. I just ... This isn’t home.”
“It doesn’t have to be. What matters is, it’shere.” He leaned back, palms flat against the rock, and watched the waves come in below them. “When you think about it, we’re all passing through, in and out of this world quick as a passenger boarding a train, on the way to something that lasts. Until then, you might as well make friends with your fellow travelers. Because, like it or not, you need us, Ginny. And we need you.”
Ginny stared at the young pilot, who in turn stared out at the ocean.
He made it sound so easy. Like good-byes were only see-you-laters, like you could give away bits of your heart like penny candy offered to someone in the seat next to you. Like it wouldn’t hurt when you left them or they left you, when they lied to you or turned a cold shoulder or up and died in the Pacific Ocean.
As if reading her mind, he added, “‘When you’re Real, you don’t mind being hurt.’”
She’d heard that before....
Rosa’s book, the one with the toy rabbit. The first Blackout Book Club meeting she’d missed, right after the telegram about Mack.
She sighed. “We don’t live in a storybook, Freddy. Here, there aren’t magic fairies to make everything right.”
He pulled an offended face. “What do you thinkIam?”
A laugh burst out of her without permission at the image. “Annoying, mostly.” She tossed a pebble and watched it skitter down the slanted cliff. “Why do you care, anyway?”
He paused, giving her just enough time to feel bad about how that might have sounded. “I probably shouldn’t care so much. But I do.”
The words themselves were ordinary enough, but the way he turned to look at her...
She backed away from the edge, tucking her legs underneath her, almost feeling Lew’s scowling brotherly presence behind her, though she knew he was miles away. “Soon as harvest is over and you move on, you’ll forget all about me.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” When she didn’t reply or return his smile, he coughed and opened the paper bag set beside him. “Time for the cookies, I guess. They’re leftovers from club. Supposed to look like gold coins fromTreasure Island. Avis is getting fancy.”
Ginny accepted the cookie, though not the compliment. It felt wrong, in a way, listening to him flirt with her, with Mack dead only a few weeks.
