"I buried him this morning."

"Oh Kenneth, no,"

"I woke up this morning, but he didn't. It was like him to die quietly. That dog was never a problem, even as a puppy. He was patient, undemanding, sensitive to my moods." He smiled. "Better than any woman I've known. No wonder they call them man's best friend. We were a team," he said, his voice catching. "I'll miss him."

"I'm sorry, Kenneth. I'll miss him, too."

"I know you will. He took right to you, as I recall," he said trying valiantly to smile. He took a deep breath and we walked along the beach together, the deep silence of sadness linking us during our somber thoughts. Finally, he paused and turned to me with a genuine smile.

"So, you're burning up the academic playing fields, I hear, and look like a shoe-in for class valedictorian."

"Who told you that?"

"Cary," he replied slyly.

"He's been here?"

"Often, lately. I've decided to hire him to build me that sailboat," he said.

"Really, Kenneth?"

"Really."

"That's wonderful. He must be so excited!"

"He's got some good ideas. In his own way, he's a very creative young man, and, he's crazy about you."

"I know," I said blushing.

"What's Her Highness think of it?"

"Forbids the thought," I said.

"Hmm. What are you going to do? She rules with an iron hand," he warned. "And when she brings it down, she usually smothers the victim like an ant."

"She's hard, but we've come to a bit of a truce these days. She hasn't had much to complain about.

I'm doing well in school. I'm Miss Burton's favorite pupil, and I listen attentively to Grandma Olivia's nightly lectures about people, responsibility, the importance of family, family, family," I added in a pretend deep voice. Kenneth laughed.

"You little devil. You're humoring her to death, aren't you?" he asked.

"I'm being . . . diplomatic," I said and he laughed harder. We heard a horn and turned to see Cary bouncing down the beach road in his truck.

"Here comes my sailboat engineer," Kenneth said. "I wonder if he's come to see me about it or if there's been some diplomatic maneuvering here for a rendezvous," he teased. My cheeks turned crimson.

He laughed and we started toward the house.

"Cary Logan," I cried as we approached him, "why didn't you tell me about the sailboat you're building for Kenneth?" I stood with my hands on my hips. Cary looked at Kenneth, who wore a wide grin.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he said, shifting the rolled up papers he carried under his arm. "I've got the plans completed, Kenneth," he said.

"All right. Let's spread them out on the table in the studio and study them. I bought some Portuguese bread this morning and your favorite cheese, Melody," he told me.

"Is that a hint to make everyone a sandwich?" I asked suspiciously.

"Now I see," Kenneth said to Cary, "that she is just as quick as you said she was."

Cary roared as the two of them went in to the studio. I joined them fifteen minutes later with our sandwiches and some lemonade. Cary's sailboat plans were on the table and I thought they looked very impressive and professional.

"It looks huge," I remarked.

"Six thousand eight hundred thirty-four pounds with a twenty-nine-and-a-half-foot deck. The cabin will hold up to six people comfortably," Cary said.

"You see it has a relatively long waterline, which gives us optimal volume and at the same time favors speed. This double-chine hull with a flat-bottom plate gets us quick immersion of the upper-"

"Cary, you're losing her," Kenneth gently pointed out.

"What? Oh. Sorry," he said.

"I think you might safely say he's got a passion for this," Kenneth remarked.

"It looks . . . beautiful," I said lamely.

"Well I'm sure you can understand this," Cary said, refusing to give up on me. "It's very roomy and has a lot of storage space. Starting at the bow here, there is a chain locker followed by a double berth.

There's a twenty-five gallon fresh water tank, storage under the seats, and behind the seats there are lockers and a bookcase. Here's the folding table hinged on the center board case. The hull is built upside down on a framework made from the bulkheads. No temporary molds means no waste."

"Sold," Kenneth said. "Now, can we please eat?"

Cary looked up from the plans, first at Kenneth and then at me and then he smiled.

"Sure," he said. "I'm starving."

Later, when we were alone on the beach, I pretended to be still upset that he had kept all this a secret.

"I just wanted to surprise you," he protested.

"Besides," he added sotto voce, "I couldn't be sure Kenneth was serious. You know how erratic he's been these days. I know he's serious now though. He's put the money up for the plans and given me the green light to start. I'll be building the boat here," he said.

"What about the lobster business?"

"I'm making a deal with Roy Patterson, giving him more responsibility and more of the income. I talked it over with Ma, but she doesn't really understand what I'm trying to do and naturally she's afraid for us. I hope I'm doing the right thing," he added. "I just feel like this is my chance. Once I build one boat and others see it . . ."

"You'll do well, Cary. I'm sure you will."

He nodded with a weak smile.

"I hope so. I know if Dad were alive, he'd be furious about it."

"He never wanted to do anything differently, Cary. It wasn't in him to change, but you're creative and you heard Kenneth say you have a passion for it.

If anyone knows about being passionate over something creative, it's Kenneth. In the end you'll make us all proud of you."

"I hope, but for the time being, maybe it would be better if you didn't mention anything about it to Grandma Olivia," he said.

"I don't mention anything about you in front of her and she never asks me anything. It's part of the truce that's fallen between us these days," I said.

He smiled, grateful for that.

"Well, since I'll be here most of the time now, maybe you and I can see more of each other and-"

"I'll stop by as often as I can and bring May, too."

"Kenneth's going to Boston this weekend,"

Cary said quickly. "He told me it would be all right for me to use his place, if I want."

We stared at each other a moment.

"I can't get away overnight, Cary. She would have the dogs at my heels," I said.

"It doesn't have to be overnight, but we could have dinner here and just for one day maybe, feel like we were . . . you know . . together."

I thought about it. Somehow, lying to Grandma Olivia didn't seem to be such a bad thing.

"I have an idea. I'll talk to Theresa tomorrow.

She'll cover for me," I promised. Cary brightened with hope and we kissed. The wind swept through our hair and the ocean spray sprinkled our faces. It made me feel fresh and alive.

Cary insisted I put my bike in the back of his truck so he could drive me most of the way home. I rode the last mile and a half on my bike. When I arrived, I saw that Judge Childs was visiting with Grandma Olivia. He had been coming over more often since Grandpa Samuel had been taken to the home.

The two of them usually spent their time sipping sherry in the gazebo. Often, the Judge stayed for dinner.

I hadn't yet paid him the visit he expected. I didn't want to talk about Mommy. It was too painful to think about her. Since I had returned from California, she hadn't phoned or written. It was still difficult to accept the fact that she wanted to be out of my life forever. Sometimes I would walk past the cemetery and see the stone with her name on it. Once, I even stopped to pay my respects to the poor anonymous soul who had been made to take Mommy's coffin and grave. In my secret put-away heart, I mourned for her the way I mourned for myself, imagining her wishing to be with her own people, whoever and wherever they might be.

Maybe she was, I thought. Maybe being next to the bones of your loved ones wasn't what mattered.

Perhaps there was something stronger that bound us after death, some linking of the soul that would someday find me greeting Papa George, my stepdaddy and whoever else I loved and who loved me.

The week after I met Cary at Kenneth's I talked to Theresa in the cafeteria during lunch, planning a way for me to spend most of the following Saturday and Saturday night with Cary at Kenneth's house.

With midterms coming up, it was easy to claim we would be studying together. What I wasn't prepared for was Grandma Olivia's reaction to my choice of friends. The way she glared at me when I told my story made me feel she had seen right through the subterfuge, but her irritation was drawn from a more polluted well.

"Patterson? Is that the same Patterson who works for Cary? The Brava?"

"Yes, her father is Roy Patterson."

"That's the best you can do? The best friendship you can form at school? What about the Rudolph's daughter or Mark and Carol Parker's daughter? Isn't Betty Hargate, the accountant's daughter, in your class also?"

"I don't get along as well with those girls and they are nowhere near the student Theresa is, despite her being what you call a Brava. I not ashamed of my friendship with her; I'm proud of it."

"I see I'm not getting you out of this town fast enough," she replied.

"I'm not moving in with the Pattersons, Grandma Olivia. I'm merely preparing study sheets.

You want me to be the valedictorian, don't you?"

She raised her eyebrows, considering.

"There's no mother in that house."

"Her father will be home and you know he's a nice man, a hardworking man."

"You intend to eat dinner with them?" she asked, as if I were going to eat with Aborigines.

"I ate there often last year," I said, "before I realized I was so important."

"Don't be impudent. Very well," she said after another thoughtful pause, "Raymond will take you and pick you up promptly at nine P.M."

"It's Saturday night!" I protested.

"Ten then," she said relenting a bit.

"No one else in my class lives under such strict rules," I complained.

"No one else has your destiny and responsibility," she replied dryly. "Let's not have these silly discussions."

I retreated, feeling I had won as much as I could from her at the moment. When I told Cary, he was ecstatic.

"I'll bring some lobsters and clams for dinner,"

he said. "We'll have May with us for a while, but I'll take her home in the afternoon."

"That's fine, Cary."

"She wants to know if she can bike out to Kenneth's with you one day. I explained how dangerous it is for her to go on the road by herself.

She can't hear cars and trucks."

"I'll come by and get her one day. We'll be all right."

"It'll be a real treat for her," he said. "I haven't been able to do much for her these days and with Ma the way she is . . ."

"It's no problem, Cary. I want to do it," I assured him.

The next day Theresa and I made our final plans at school. The first time I met Theresa I thought she was a very serious girl, pretty but dour to the point of being angry. Since I was new in school, the principal asked her to show me around. We got off to a bad start because she assumed I would look down on her the way other so-called blue bloods did.

I thought she was one of the prettiest girls in the school, with her caramel complexion, black pearl eyes and ebony hair. After she realized I wasn't like the others, she permitted me to get closer to her and we quickly became good friends.