The Loose Ends List(73)

Gloria holds on to the minister with wide eyes and a cherry-lipped smile.

“I’m going to try to do this without tears,” Mom continues. “Gloria, you may have recognized the biscuits and honey butter. They’re yours. Everything Wes and Billy made today is from this book. Roberta and I wanted everyone to have a taste of your gift. We can’t wait to give this book to your children and grandchildren. Each recipe comes with a sweet Gloria story. And each story tells us how you healed others with your food. Thank you, Gloria, for sharing your gift with us.”

The minister takes Gloria by the arm and they walk slowly to the podium, where they embrace Mom and Roberta.

Mom looks down and scans the crowd. She sees me and waves, her face flushed with pride and contentment. There’s not even a hint of why are you dressed like THAT? in her expression. I feel bad for making fun of Gloria’s Chicken Cordon Bleu. It’s actually delicious. So are the lasagna and the stuffed shells and the sweet potato casserole and the fruit cobbler.

I text Mom: I’m so proud of you. Remember this feeling, because Dad and I think you’ve found your calling.

As I hit SEND, I get a text from Enzo: Are you finished with your jealous teen rage? It’s slightly endearing but let’s not let it ruin my plans?

I don’t reply. Why wouldn’t Layla pounce? She’s on an island in the middle of the Pacific, and he’s fresh meat. I leave the table during a heated conversation about anal bleaching.

“Yes, Vito. They’re all doing it.”

“Why on earth would anyone put bleach on their anus?” Gloria says. “That is yet another reason I’m glad I’m on my way out.”

Paige and her mom are at the playground near the beach, pushing Grace on a swing. Grace is shrieking with joy, unaware that her entire world is falling apart. Right now, life is a fast swing on a warm beach, and that’s all that matters.

“Maddie, come to the beach with us. They do beach movies for the families here, and tonight it’s Winnie the Pooh. It’s Gracie’s very favorite book. What are the odds?”

“I’ll walk you over there,” I say, looking down at a text from Janie.

We’re leaving. What are you doing?

“Isn’t this the most amazing place?” Paige walks with an unsteady gait because of the sandy incline. Of course, the tumor pressing on her brain doesn’t help. “It’s spring break meets a science fiction movie. Did you know they have volcanologists in residence right now who go into the volcano and test a new theory about lava chemicals curing cancer? And they have a bakery where they make yam croissants, and they do poetry readings at Walden Pond every Friday night?”

“Don’t you kind of feel like the island is alive?” I say.

“I totally know what you’re saying. It’s invigorating.”

Several families gather on the beach in front of a giant inflatable movie screen. The sun, almost below the horizon line now, paints a purple-pink backdrop for Winnie the Pooh. Paige’s mom and Grace plop down on a beach towel. Two bouncy-haired little girls run up and fawn all over Grace, who points at Lane and Uncle Babysitter as they walk our way with a big bag of popcorn.

Enzo texts a picture of a freckle-faced guy with a blond pubic-hair beard. The caption says Layla’s fiancé Ted. Then he writes, Caveman wants woman in kayak now.

I’m sorry, I text.

Forgotten, he texts. My stomach feels instantly better, and I wish I had some of Gloria’s buttermilk biscuits.

“Going kayaking, P. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Love you!” Paige snuggles in between Grace and Wes.



It’s almost dark when I reach the bend in the beach and practically crash into Jeb wearing a forehead flashlight. They’re all wearing forehead flashlights.

Enzo hugs me hard and whispers, “I’m all yours, Maddie.”

And I believe him.

We carry the kayaks over our heads. It’s a long walk down the beach, and it’s getting darker by the minute. We finally arrive at the mouth of the saltwater marsh that leads to the lagoons and get into the water. I’ve kayaked plenty in my life, always during the day and always at our rinky-dink lake club. Here it’s dark and murky, and the trees cast shadow creatures over our caravan of wusses.

“Please tell us there are no sharks in this water,” Jeb says.

“Not usually,” Enzo says. “I mean, it’s possible, but not likely.”

“I prefer impossible,” Janie yells from way behind us.

“How much longer? I’m dying back here,” Ty whines.

“It’s worth it. Stay with me, mates,” Enzo yells. “When we get there, you need to be silent. The quieter we are, the more brilliant they will be.”

“Okay,” Jeb yells at the top of his lungs.

“God, you’re annoying,” Camilla says.

We settle into the rhythm of paddles slapping water. It’s pitch-black now, except for the melon ball moon and the head flashlights. Enzo points out a bluish light. It gets brighter and fans out in front of us. “The phosphorescence comes from a colony of plankton that emit an eerie glow. They call them the fireflies of the sea, and they’ve found a home here on Wishwell Island,” he says.

The lagoon feeds another larger lagoon and then one larger than that. They’re all aglow.