While Madame Tibaldi has a conversation with herself let us check in on Schooner Bay -
Just as in Boston, the weather in Schooner Bay was brilliant and perfect, the kind of weather that makes it almost impossible to be in a bad frame of mind. As the weather went, so did the day. Jonathan and Candy were in school, Martha was in the kitchen, Mrs. Muir was at the bank depositing not one, not two, but five checks from various articles she had submitted recently. She had begun to doubt any of her work had been accepted when the good news and checks came all at once. This was not only good news but timely as the car needed a new set of tires. The checks would pay the bills, buy the tires and have some left over besides.
As for the Captain, he had had a busy morning as well. He had checked the weather, updated his charts, rescued a kitten and returned it to its mother and managed to meet Mrs Muir by then gate when she returned from town with a bucket of lobsters for her to give to Martha. It would be so much easier if Martha knew about him, but he didn't know how she would take it. Faint, probably.
For Mrs. Muir, the day and her mood were both too good to waste at her typewriter. She was working on two more articles but they could wait a bit - the beach was calling her to come and have a walk. She could not say no. As soon as she had dropped off the lobsters and promised to be back for lunch and quickly changed clothes she was off.
Walking with Mrs. Muir was one of Captain Gregg's favorite things and so when he spotted her crossing the road, he left his station on the widow's walk and followed. Shortly they were walking side by side in companionable silence, broken now and again by a few small words as just being together was enough.
Mrs. Muir, Carolyn when he allowed himself was beautiful even at the worst of times. This was no exaggeration, just a simple undeniable fact. Now here, with the wind playing with her hair and the sun adding its glow, her beauty was stunning. When she looked at him, as she did with those green eyes and that smile, oh he felt as if his heart was melting in his chest. Or it would have if he had a heart and wasn't a ghost. That was a silly thought, real men don't melt - or at least he never did when he was alive. He should never have read that Barbara Cartland novel Martha had. No, feeling melty inside was definitely for women, oh pull yourself together man! It would help so much if she didn't look at him like that and yet he knew he never wanted her to stop.
For Mrs. Muir, every time the Captain looked at her, she found herself blushing like a school girl. It did not help that the sun had set a brilliant burnish on the curls on his head - how exactly that worked - sunshine on a ghost she did not know, he also cast a shadow on the sand and that didn't really seem physically possible but now was not the time to ponder all that. He was there with her and seemingly as real and solid as any living man and yet they could not even touch. If only he wasn't looking so, so, blasted magnificent this morning! Keeping her eyes off of him was nearly impossible and every time she looked at him, he would seem to be a bit flustered. At least the feeling was mutual, even if words were never spoken because what can you say when you're in love with a ghost?
Then as they found themselves near a favorite spot to rest - some shade from a tree and a large rock to sit on, he reached into his pocket. Mrs. Muir had been admiring some circling gulls when the flash of color from the cloth in his hand caught her eye. Silk, richly colored, it reminded her of a something she had seen - a sari? she had seen once on an elderly lady from India. He was reaching towards her with it and she took it, something was wrapped in it.
He cleared his throat, started to speak, then started again, "Mrs., ... Carolyn." His voice was low and soft as happened whenever his emotions - his more tender emotions were near the surface. He tugged his ear. "I just thought, well, unwrap it won't you?"
He had called her Carolyn. Did he know her heart stopped when he did that in that voice? She was staring at his face. Breathe. Unwrap. She pulled on the silk and it came away revealing a whale's tooth with an exquisite scrimshaw of not a ship but Gull Cottage.
"I started this years ago, when I had just finished the house and moved in," Captain Gregg explained, "but somehow I was never able to finish it... until now. And, that is to say, well you see you seemed to truly appreciate scrimshaw so, I thought, perhaps you would like it?"
Carolyn could not take her eyes off the scrimshaw for there was Gull Cottage perfectly etched, and on the front steps, in front of the bottom step towards the right was a tiny Scruffy. Behind him Jonathan and Candy and on the step behind them, Martha and at the top on the porch to the left was the Captain himself with Mrs. Muir. She was in front of him, actually she was leaning against him and as she looked she saw that his arm was around her waist and she was resting one had on his. A perfect portrait of a family at their home.
"Oh, Daniel" she breathed. Did she know that the sound of her speaking his name, almost a whisper like that, did she know what that did to him? There came that melty feeling again. Good thing he was a ghost or else his heart might have stopped right there and then. He had been unsure if he should give it to her, he hadn't even really intended to make it like that, but he was rummaging in the attic and found it and started fiddling with it and it just came out that way. He hoped she would see it as he did - an expression of the reality that she and her family made his house a true home for all of them. He hoped she would like it, he hoped, oh no she was looking at him and there were definite signs of tears threatening to fall - he could handle anything but a woman's tears!
Carolyn was overwhelmed in a good way, but the feelings that now gripped her were just so strong. She could feel the tears - happy ones welling her eyes and as she looked up at the Captain, she could see that look of - not fear exactly, but a certain anxiousness on his face. He never could stand to see her cry, she knew that and did her best to hold on, but it took all she had to keep the tears in check. Its just that the scrimshaw was so sweet and that he had made it himself - as she thought about it she found another wave of emotion threatening to wash over her.
"This is the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me," she finally managed, clearly deeply moved. Then she smiled. Smiles worked well on the Captain and he felt instant relief. He perked up immediately, tugging his ear, adjusting his collar, straightening his jacket. The scrimshaw was a success, Carolyn's smile was brighter and warmer than the sun to him. They walked back to Gull Cottage - Martha would have Mrs. Muir's lunch ready soon. If only the scrimshaw scene could be how things really were they both thought although neither said a word.