Hope, Levy, Marc [good summer reads TXT] 📗

a night on a plane just because of me. And anyway, you’re right. I should go alone.”

“I can’t be right, then, seeing as I just suggested the exact opposite.”

“Simon?” she sighed. “Do you think that one day I’ll understand what exactly happened to me? Why can’t I just know who I am, like everyone else does?”

“Because normality is dead boring.”

“You’ve met someone,” she said suddenly.

“What makes you say that?”

“You sound like someone who’s met someone and who’s calling his best friend to tell her he’s happy, and because she’s selfish, she just talks about herself instead of listening and celebrating with him,” she replied. “What’s his name?”

“Danger Ahead.”

“Cool name.”

“No, but seriously. I could fall in love.”

“Why do we always have to ‘fall’ in love?”

“Because when it hurts, you have to pick yourself back up again.”

“And when it doesn’t hurt?”

“Then you stop falling, and you just love.”

“I hope you just . . . I mean, be careful, you know? Or no . . . Forget what I just said. Just live life to the full, seize every moment, and . . .”

“And what if I fall anyway?” Simon asked.

“Then you have a friend here to catch you.”

“Melly, it’s going to be fine. Just be patient. Everything will get back to normal.”

“I thought normality was boring.”

“Touché.”

“Off you go to meet Danger Ahead. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to check out that lighthouse, and I’ll report back. Nantucket, right?”

“My car keys are on the table by the front door. It’s parked in the garage. There’s just one level; you can’t miss it. Drive to Cape Cod, get on the ferry in Hyannis, and whatever you do, don’t forget to call me when you get there,” Simon said. “If you decide to stay the night, I can recommend a little B&B by the port. It’s as old as the island itself. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but I swear, it’s one of the prettiest places I know.”

“I’ll call as soon as I arrive, I promise.”

“You’d better. And be careful with my car, okay? She’s a rusty old thing, and like all grandmas, she’s beautiful and deserves to be handled with care. Love you, Melly.”

She hung up and returned to the book. She stared at the photograph of the Brant Point lighthouse for a while, and although she didn’t want to feel like she was going crazy, she could have sworn it was smiling at her.

She found Simon’s car keys by the front door and headed to the garage.

Melly took the highway south. Driving came to her as naturally as playing the piano, and it was much more fun, with the wind in her hair like this. She got to Cape Cod and pulled into Hyannis just in time to catch the ferry.

As soon as it set off, she felt a little sick, and went to sit out on the deck.

The ship cut through the gentle waves, and Melly breathed in the sea breeze as she watched the flocks of gulls skating along the surf of the coastline.

Nantucket Island was more beautiful than Melly had imagined.

She found the B&B that Simon had recommended. Perched on stilts above the water, it had a lazy, uplifting feel that instantly explained why he loved it so much.

A souvenir vendor pointed out the path to Brant Point, and she found the lighthouse at the end. From the wooden decking, it looked much smaller than in the photo, but just as alluring. She wondered what she was doing here, and whether she had made a mistake in thinking this trip held any answers to her questions.

Elbows propped on the railing, Melly breathed in the fresh air and let her mind wander as she looked out to sea.

A voice carried on the wind.

“Throw me out to sea, Joshy. I want a second chance too.”

She glanced around her, wondering where it had come from.

“Do you believe in life after death?”

“Some days, when I get really scared.”

A couple must be chatting somewhere on the other side of the lighthouse. She walked around it, back to where she had started, but there was nobody in sight.

“You’re scared of dying?”

“I’m scared of you dying.”

“If there really is a life after death, I’ll be starting very young. You’ll roll in all crumbling like an old man.”

“Who says I’ll die very old?”

“Because life is wonderful, and I order you to.”

It must be the wind, Melly thought. Just voices riding the breeze. She turned around, scouring the beach.

A few yards away from the Brant Point lighthouse lay three gentle hills covered in hibiscus. Behind the farthest away of the three, she glimpsed the ruins of a whitewashed stone shack.

To put her mind at rest, she walked back up the decking toward it.

The voices were growing louder.

“The less there is of one or the other, the more there is of us.”

There wasn’t a soul in sight, just three kids playing on the dune. She realized that the words weren’t coming from anywhere. They were all in her head.

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she started walking faster, stopping suddenly in front of a white stone that lay on a patch of soft grass at the foot of the little house.

Kneeling down, Melly brushed her hand over the fine layer of sand that covered it, revealing two names engraved in the rock.

A tingle ran down her spine; her eyes rolled back; and then everything went black.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

The little boy was shaking her by the shoulders as his two friends watched on.

“Fred, should we go get help?”

“Hang on, Momo. I think she’s opening her eyes.”

“Ma’am? Are you dead or asleep?”

Melly sat up straight, clutching her head. She felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. She stayed there on the sand, still too dizzy to stand up.

“Did you fall down just like that?”

“I think so.” She smiled up at the boy.

She could still hear the voices whispering on the wind.

“What if I really do come back one