13:13, 18

Transition

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Summer 1999

Over the next several weeks, life took on a new rhythm for Luce, Aaron, Henry, and Katherine. Luce and Henry spent much of their time together. Now that Luce was feeling marginally better (and they’d come to terms with Henry’s ineptitude in the kitchen), she usually prepared breakfast and dinner for the two of them. Nothing fancy. Maybe toast and fried eggs for breakfast and hot dogs and baked beans for dinner. It was rare that they both finished an entire meal, but it soothed them both to know that there was a framework, however tenuous, to each day now. The sameness itself was a welcome change for both of them.

During the days, they went their separate ways. Luce spent most of her time with Aaron or went for long walks when he was working or meeting with Pastor Dan. She spent so much time at the café that Maggie began leaving samples of new menu items out for her to try. Carla recognized Luce now—as did Abby, who usually stayed in the back if Luce was around. Luce knew that Aaron would be disappointed to hear this, but it gave her a mean sense of satisfaction to see how upset Abby was with the attention that Aaron was paying her.

And paying her attention, he was.

Neither of them had ever been in what could properly be called a healthy relationship (not that they were calling their whatever-it-was a relationship), but it did have all the same trappings. Aaron couldn’t keep a smile off his face when Luce came into the café and anyone watching could see that he was bursting until he was off the clock. The few who knew Luce well enough could also see a thaw in her when she was around Aaron. She smiled more, laughed more, and was more effusive in conversations. There was some hand-holding too, and on the days when Luce accompanied Aaron to church, fellow parishioners noticed that he kept his arm around her in the pew.

Aaron was still giving Luce driving lessons and, though these lessons had turned into barely-concealed excuses to kiss her as much as he dared, she was improving. She’d gone from making shaky, six-mile-an-hour circles around an empty parking lot to driving the two miles between their houses at a respectable fifteen-mile-an-hour clip.

Luce was pleasantly surprised to see that Grace was a much more fun place to be in the summer than it had been in the early spring when she’d arrived. Scores of tourists had descended upon the town and its environs, and there were community activities almost every week: parades, a carnival, fireworks. Hokey, but bearing a certain kind of charm.

Aaron also took Luce to all of the beaches in and around Grace. He showed her mussels, oysters, clams, and barnacles. He taught her to appreciate the smell of salt and brine and the sound of a gull’s cry. She learned what it felt like to let your toes go numb in the surf and how unnerving it was for the sand to pull out from under your feet as the waves subsided, and she grew accustomed to how wet everything stayed, all the time.

Eating a bit more every day and spending so much of her time outside in the fresh, salty air agreed with Luce. She felt healthier and stronger than she’d ever felt. Her body had never seemed capable of much, but now, she saw that it could carry her safely over sharp rocks, propel her up and down long hills. She hadn’t forgotten her dream to run. She still got winded too easily to try, but she could tell that the day was coming.

Often, when Luce was at Aaron’s house, waiting for him to change after a shift, she sat and talked with Katherine, who always wanted to hear about Zannah, though the stories usually made her cry. Luce wanted to ask what Zannah had been like as a little girl, but she was afraid there’d be too few good stories, so she just answered Katherine’s questions or sat quietly. Both of them appreciated this unspoken permission to just sit with someone.

The summer marked the first easy and calm period in Luce’s life. She was still given to taciturnity and defensiveness, but her way with others had begun to ease, and her panic subsided.

This tranquility carried all of them through the summer, until one night in August changed everything.