She smiled sleepily at William, her expression growing sweeter as it came to rest on Sam. He smiled back at her, thinking she looked almost normal. There was color in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes. "Hi, Phoebe? Are you behaving yourself?"

"As if I could do anything else," she said, more quickly and clearly than she'd spoken the day before.

"I'm taking a walk," William said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon. Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you." Phoebe patted the mattress next to her as Sam hovered at the end of the bed. "Come here and sit beside me."

Sam did as he was told, sitting down on the edge of the bed instead of the chair. There was plenty of room. Phoebe was so small, she barely took any s.p.a.ce.

"Did Alli and Tessa find the pearl?" she asked. He wanted to tell her yes, but the truth was that they hadn't.

"I'm sorry," he said, realizing Phoebe was waiting. "We haven't found one yet. But we haven't given up either. So don't worry."

"Tomorrow is what day?"

"Friday."

"We don't have much time left before the Fourth."

"We'll find a pearl. We're going tomorrow at low tide to check the oyster farm by Vista Point. Alli said you used to have good luck there. We'll take Megan, too. She'll get to spend some time with her aunt."

Phoebe smiled. "All of you together. That's nice."

"It might be."

She lifted her hand to him and he took it. "You have to make it all right, Sam."

"I'm the problem, not the solution." He shook his head in frustration. "Alli keeps throwing me at Tessa, and Tessa seems to think maybe we could have something now that Alli is backing off. They both keep looking at me like I know the answer to some question, only I don't know the answer. In fact, I'm not even sure what the question is."

"What do you want? That's the question."

"I don't know anymore. I loved Tessa once. You know I did. But Alli and I married for better or worse. I made those vows in good faith. I always meant to keep them, until Alli decided to change the rules." He sighed. "Still, in my mind, Tessa was always the right one and Alli was always the mistake. Now I look at Tessa and wonder how I could fit into her life. But I look at Alli and wonder the same thing. Alli is moving on without me. Her business is going well. She's more confident than I've ever seen her. She used to need me for that. But she doesn't anymore."

"She still needs you," Phoebe said, patting his hand. "But do you need her?"

"I know I miss her more than I ever thought I would."

Phoebe's eyes softened with the wisdom of her years. "That's a start. The rest will come, as long as you're all talking to each other. Can I tell you a little secret?"

"A secret?" Sam groaned. "Do I really want to know?"

"I gave you that box of photos to shake things up."

"Well, you certainly did that."

"Don't be angry with me, Sam. I couldn't stand watching you and Alli drift along in unhappiness, never talking about that elephant in the living room, the one named Tessa. And I got tired of waiting for Tessa to wake up and come home. Life is short, Sam. You and Alli were wasting far too much of it." She paused. "I never thought Alli would ask you for a divorce, though."

"It shocked the h.e.l.l out of me, too."

"Because you didn't know what you had to lose until you lost it. And Alli didn't either. Now the two of you need to stop being stubborn and proud and work things out." She drew a deep breath that seemed to come from deep within her soul. "I'm so tired. I wish I could talk to you longer. I wish I could fix this."

"It's all right. You need to rest."

"If I made things worse, I'm sorry."

"You didn't make anything worse. You just speeded up the inevitable."

She smiled sadly. "I hope that's not true. You and Alli have something worth saving."

"I'm not sure what we have."

"Then it's time to find out."

He nodded. "It would be a lot easier if Tessa weren't around. She confuses things."

"You might think you can choose who you want to love, Sam, but that's not the way it works. Love chooses you."

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"One more thing." She hesitated, her expression reflecting her worry. "If something happens to me, will you watch out for them both? They don't have anyone else."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," he said confidently, although he felt a ripple of uneasiness run through him. But she was getting better, talking better. He was imagining things.

"Promise me, Sam."

"I promise," he said.

"Thank you."

He watched as Phoebe's eyelashes swept across her cheek and she drifted off to sleep. He hoped he wouldn't have to make good on his promise for a long, long time.

William re-entered the room with a cup of coffee in his hand. "She's asleep," he said with disappointment.

"Yes. She seems so tired."

"I know." He set his coffee down on the side table. "It's awful getting old, Sam."

"I've never thought of Phoebe as old."

"Time pa.s.ses more quickly than we realize. I look back at all the things I should have said, should have done. Why didn't I?" He gave a regretful shake of his head. "Don't waste time, Sam. Not a second. You'll regret the things you didn't do more than the ones you did, no matter what kind of a hash you made of them. Living is about doing, not watching, not waiting." He sat down in the chair next to Phoebe. "I should know. I've waited forever."

Sam didn't know what to say. He had no words to offer in comfort. He didn't understand the extent of Phoebe and William's relationship, but he sensed there was far more between them than anyone realized.

"Every time Phoebe wakes up, she looks at me as if she wonders why I'm still here," William mused. "Sometimes I wonder it myself. Oh, not because she's sick. I wouldn't leave her like this. But when she's better, maybe ... I don't know. I want to marry her. I want her to live with me, travel with me. I think she'd be happy. I think I could make her happy." He stared down at Phoebe's face. "But I can't seem to convince her of that."

"Maybe when she's better," Sam said. "Although Phoebe doesn't really like to travel. She doesn't care for airplanes much, says she always feels better when she has the ground under her feet."

"She doesn't like to fly?" William asked quizzically, looking over his shoulder at Sam.

"Not really. She probably told you that."

"I guess she did."

"But I'm sure if it meant going somewhere near water, she'd manage to get on a plane. She loves the ocean as much as I do."

William's expression grew more depressed by the minute. "You don't think she'd be happy with a lake?"

Sam cleared his throat, having a feeling he was not helping at all. "You better ask her. But she always says the salt air puts roses in her cheeks."

"I have asked. Maybe I better start listening to her answers," William muttered. "Why are women so difficult to figure out?"

Sam smiled to himself. "Don't ask me. But along those lines, I have some fences to mend. I'll see you later."

"Don't wait too long to mend those fences, Sam. It's amazing how quickly the weeds can grow."

Alli padded around the kitchen in her bare feet as she drained the spaghetti and stirred the sauce. That done, she turned her attention back to the bowl where she was stirring some fudge brownie mix. There was something about cooking that was incredibly therapeutic. She could almost relax, almost forget everything that had happened that day.

The kitchen was warm and cozy, a little nest safe from the rain dripping through the trees in the backyard and the wind rattling the windowpanes. Alli felt a shiver run through her body despite her warm thoughts, for storms had a way of reawakening the monsters in her head, the ones who had first appeared when her parents had lost their lives in a rainstorm.

Living on the Oregon coast, she had grown used to the unpredictable weather, but no matter how hard she tried to be casual and nonchalant, there was something about Mother Nature in all her fury that made her want to hide under the covers.

"Hi, Mommy," Megan said, coming into the kitchen dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a sweatshirt. She dragged one of the chairs over to the counter and stood on it so she could see what Alli was doing. "Can I stir?"

Alli handed her the spoon. "Sure, honey."

Megan frowned as she moved the spoon through the heavy, thick mixture. "It's hard."

"Just keep blending the mix until you can't see any of the powder. Do you want me to do it?"

"No," Megan said firmly. "I can do it."

Alli smiled to herself. Megan was as stubborn as she was. Megan saw life as a mountain to be climbed and she took each step with great enthusiasm. "You're doing great," Alli encouraged, because sometimes little mountaineers needed some support.

While Megan was stirring, Alli pulled her daughter's hair back and ran her fingers through the curls, smoothing them with her fingers. "How was summer school today?"

"Ricky said his father said he has a kite that can beat ours this year."

"Ricky's father has been trying to beat your dad since he was twelve years old."

"He has?"

"Yep. But your dad and your grandpa couldn't be beat. They always had the coolest and the fastest kite."

"When are we going to make our kite?" Megan asked. "It's almost the Fourth of July."

"Soon," Alli said vaguely. She knew they had to get on it, but she could hardly call Sam, not now, not after the way they'd parted. She felt guilty, knowing that Megan would be the one to suffer if she and Sam couldn't at least communicate enough to finish the kite they'd promised their daughter they would make together.

"Can I call Daddy?" Megan asked.

"Keep stirring, honey. I want to get this in the oven."

"My hand is tired," she said, handing the spoon back to Alli.

Alli whipped the rest of the batter up in no time and spread it in the pan, then set it in the oven. Megan sat on the edge of the counter, licking the chocolate-covered spoon clean. "No more, honey; you'll spoil your appet.i.te."

"Are we going to look for pearls tomorrow?"

"We sure are. We have to go out at low tide, so we can scoop the oysters off the bottom."

"Do all the oysters have pearls?"

"Only a few very special ones. That's why we have to look at a lot of 'em."

"Okay. Can I watch TV in your room until dinner is ready?"

"Sure."

Alli set the bowl in the sink as Megan got down from her chair and ran upstairs to the bedroom. She had just finished rinsing the bowl and setting it in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang, reminding her that the storm couldn't completely keep the outside world at bay.

She walked slowly to the front door, wearily convinced that there couldn't possibly be someone on her doorstep she wanted to see. Still, when she opened the door and saw Sam she couldn't stop her heart from skipping its usual beat.

Sam wore a bright yellow rain slicker. His hair was slicked back, away from his face, a few drops of water clinging to his cheeks. He carried a plastic bag in one hand and a plastic bottle of something in the other.

"What do you want?" she asked grumpily.

"Peace offering," he replied, handing her the bottle.

She saw that it was almond creme lotion, her favorite kind.

"For your hands, to get rid of the fish smell," he said, still dripping all over her front porch.

"Well, it's a start."

"Big-time groveling is in order, huh?"

"I should have let those fish stink up your boat."

"Our boat," he reminded her.

"For the moment."

"I do appreciate what you did for me." He caught her gaze and held it.

She let out a sigh. "Okay, you can come in."

Sam took off his rain slicker, leaving it to dry on the porch. Then he stepped inside and set the large plastic bag on the floor. "Kite stuff," he explained at her quizzical look.