At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)(87)

The rhythmic sweep of the lighthouse's beam washed the sky, punctuated by the occasional bleat of a foghorn in the distance. She was half-drunk on the sheer smell of the night, a potent combination of wet leaves and pine and the ever-present smell of the sea.

He flung open his door then climbed out of the car. She watched, scarcely breathing, as he looked up at the sky. She knew what he was doing. He was wishing on a star too. She had taught him that their first summer together in the shadow of the lighthouse, in their summer of love. It's the same for you, isn't it, Noah? No matter how far we run, this will always be home. He had wanted to see the world, to shrug off the traces of Idle Point and create himself anew. Are you happy, Noah? Is it all you thought it would be?

She had watched, scarcely breathing, as he opened the back door and, after a minute or two, lifted a sleeping Sophie out of the car. The little girl murmured something—the soft sweet sound lifted and rose on the wind like a prayer—then curled up against Noah's chest. All of her fire, all of her fears, forgotten in the secure circle of her father's embrace. One day when Sophie was all grown up, she would remember that feeling of being deeply loved and she would gain strength from it.

I see her as she was then, reflected unexpectedly in my daughter, and I want to make things right for both of them...

Noah didn't know what he was doing, dredging up all of these memories. There could be no happy ending, not the kind of romantic resolution they had dreamed about years ago. He needed to know that and he needed to know why or none of them would ever find happiness. Sophie deserved a family, a real family, with a mother and father who loved her and each other, and that was something that could never happen unless she told Noah the truth.

Ben knew the truth. He had told her as much yesterday afternoon. She was reasonably certain Ruth Chase suspected the truth as well. She would ask Noah to help her shield them as much as possible but hurting them was a chance they had to take for Sophie's sake.





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One thing Noah had learned since he became an instant daddy three months ago was that Murphy's Law was not only true, it had probably been discovered by a single father. No matter how much time he allotted to getting Sophie ready, he always fell short by at least twenty minutes. He wasn't taking any chances today. He decided to start right after breakfast so they'd have a shot at making it to the restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner at three o'clock.

And it was a good thing he had because it seemed just combing her hair might take most of the day.

She had pulled another one of those disappearing acts last night that aged him another five years. Not at the First Thanksgiving re-enactment where Sophie had been enthralled by the Pilgrims with their shiny shoe buckles and exaggerated manners, but at the Gazette again. They had stopped at the office so he could knock out his column and when he looked up she was gone. She had left her shoes behind, her coloring book, her sweater, and disappeared. One of the local cops found her peering in the window of Samantha's Bridal where Noah caught up with them..

After the cop left, Sophie took Noah's hand without any prompting and he understood again why parents would lay down their lives to keep their children safe.

He had a clear vision of Gracie at that age, reaching up for his mother's hand on the way home from kindergarten. She had looked uncertain at first, then hopeful, and then when his mother took her hand, almost giddy with delight. It hadn't made sense to him at the time. What was so special about holding his mother's hand anyway? His mother's hand was always within reach. It wasn't until he was sent away to St. Luke's that he began to understand what Gracie and Sophie had known almost from birth. The parent-child connection was as deep and wide as the ocean, as mysterious as heaven, as impossible to explain as love. The best he could do was follow his heart and pray.

"Papa!" Sophie squirmed out of Noah's reach. "Ow!"

"Sorry, Soph." He kissed the top of her head. "I'll be more careful."

Her perfect little face contorted into a scowl. "I'm a girl," she reminded him.

"I know that," he said, barely containing a chuckle. He knew his fierce little girl wouldn't appreciate that one bit. "Hair is very important to girls, isn't it?"

"Very," she agreed. She twisted around in her chair, trying to see his progress in the mirror.

"Not bad, huh?" He wasn't above soliciting compliments wherever he could get them.