She leaned back after hanging up the phone. She was delighted at the good news. The editor, Jim Thomas, who knew her from her Philadelphia days, wanted a three part series about her views on what it was like to move from a metropolitan area to a small New England town. They wanted insights on general cultural changes, the impacts on her children and her personal perspective on the unexpected shifts the move had created in her day-to-day life. 'I don't think I can provide a complete reflection on that' she thought with a smile to herself.
"Good news, M'dear?" the Captain asked as he appeared at the telescope. "Yes, I have a three part article, that'll be good for keeping the bills at bay and let me put something aside for the next house repair emergency too! The editor is an old friend from Philadelphia. Seems there is a lot of interest in people leaving the 'rat race' and moving to rural areas. He wants me to do a personal story about how my life has changed. Kind of a compare and contrast of big city versus village worlds; how it looks from my view and those of the children."
"Pity, some of your most interesting experiences will be unlikely to be included in those pages," he said, "your readers will never know what they've missed." She stood and walked out to the window and turned back to him with a satisfied smile, "Our minds are running alike Captain, I had the same first thought, but I hope the story, without ghostly intervention might be interesting by itself. I was going to take a walk and start thinking through the storyline. Would you care to go with me?"
"Delighted. Have you ever taken the path over the hillside trail? I know you enjoy the beach, but the hilltop is especially lovely this time of year." "Hillside? I think I've heard Jonathan mention it, isn't that where you two have the occasional adventure?" "From time to time," he admitted, "I believe our last outing there, we were reliving the last battle between early settlers and Indian forces, I'm delighted to share that we were victorious."
Laughing at the thought of the two of them facing imaginary battles, it reminded her, yet again, why despite all the practical barriers, she always wanted him in their lives. Richard never once participated in the childhood games, or even cared enough to know what they played among themselves. Hunting for a notebook with empty pages and a couple of pens, she reached into the closet for a coat. "Here, it's a warm day, no need to bring a jacket" he reached out, "I can fit those in my pocket," she passed the notebook and pens to him, and they headed downstairs. She dashed back a second later and tucked a pair of gloves and a scarf in the pocket of her skirt, and with a rueful smile at herself in the mirror, she hurried back to join him.
"Martha," she called into the kitchen, "I'm heading out. . . or actually we're heading out to work on my new series for Boston Life, but we'll be back in time for lunch, ok?" "Fine Mrs. Muir, lunch will hold until you come back," Martha responded as she heard the door open and then close. With a knowing smile, she added, "Enjoy yourselves."
As they turned toward the back of the house, they started up the rambling path that headed up the hillside. Carolyn paused to pull on her gloves and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Pausing, he smiled down at her, "I'm so pleased you packed the necessities, this isn't the easiest climb, and it'll make it simpler to help you over the rough patches." "Actually Captain, that's a lovely thought, but surely that's not the only benefit?" she gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and keeping step with him they continued up the winding trail.
The sun was shining and with the steep climb, she found it warm going. They stopped at curve in the path, overlooking the house and the beach below. "You were looking for a place to think over the changes in your life?" She looked up at him with a wondering expression. "For your article Madam, surely you don't think every conversation is solely about the two of us?"
He guided her to a carved out part of the rocky hillside. "I often sought a bit of solitude here; I had the workmen craft this niche when they were building Gull Cottage so I'd have a hidden getaway for just such moments. I hope you find it beneficial as well." Smiling she settled down as he sat beside her. "It's lovely," she said looking across the vista, "what a good idea, a change in perspective is very much appreciated." "I'm glad," he smiled, "so where do you wish to begin?"
"Honestly? I'd love to know what you and Martha were chatting about this morning," she began. He raised his eyebrow in surprise, not expecting her to take a different tack than the one he intended. She looked up at him from the corner of her eye and smiled broadly. "Surely you knew I'd wonder, didn't you? Daniel Gregg, in the course of one morning I've learned more about your day-to-day life and history than I have over the last two years. AND it happens just after you and Martha have a chummy chat? Yes, I wondered, but when Jim told me the articles he wanted, I had no option but to admit that if you, Martha and fate all conspired I should pay attention."
Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she looked across the horizon. "Captain," she said wistfully, "you know, when I was ranting earlier, there was one part I did truly mean. Part of me regrets we can't live our lives in a normal and predictable manner. I mean, we didn't even meet in a practical way. We were thrown together and had to figure out how to live in the same house before we knew anything about each other, about our lives or anything else really. It would have been nice if we had some of that. . . I would have liked to" She sighed and went quiet.
Continuing her train of thought for a moment he said, "Indeed, I dearly would have enjoyed the kind of meeting my parents had in their life. Perhaps seeing you for the first time in a glow of candle light across a ballroom, or merely being enamored by the sight of you suddenly appearing in a doorway. I would have found a way to be introduced, gotten to know and understand you, to be charmed by you, and then knowing you," he paused and looked intently into her eyes, "knowing you, shall we say, better."
He leaned a bit closer, and said in an intimate soft voice, "My Carolyn, our lives have so little to do with usual and customary, and likely never will. In all those years after my passing, it is true, I was isolated and alone, and that makes it mark on anyone. Then you and the family arrived in a second. From our first moments, it was about managing sharing living quarters and making our lives blend. By the time we achieved some semblance of that, we bypassed the normal 'how do you do and tell me about your life before we met' questions. So since we need to," he paused and took both her hands in his own, "embrace this life where out of order is the order of the day, may I begin again?
He stood, walked out to the pathway, turned and approached her. Standing in front of her he bowed formally and said, "Mrs. Muir, Captain Daniel Gregg, I am delighted to make your acquaintance."
Taking her gloved hand, in his hand, he gently bowed and placed a gentle, respectful kiss on her hand. "So pleased to meet you, Captain Gregg. So tell me, if this was how we would have met, in your world, what happens next?" She asked bemused about this fanciful revision.
"Oh, very little at first, I'd sit next to you in a room full of other people. Propriety must be observed you know," he reminded her as he rejoined her on the bench carved into the hillside. "You would tell me how you happened to be in Schooner Bay, we would discuss people we knew in common, or places we had seen, other topics of safe and unremarkable nature. Nevertheless, I assure you, before I let you go, I would make sure you knew I admired you and wanted to see you again." Getting into the spirit of the game, she continued, "And I would, I expect let you know I was widowed with two small children, and I would want to learn if that unsettled you or if you would vanish once I told you that particular news."
"And since we know that was not something that daunted me in the slightest, we'd arrange to meet again," he continued. "We'd walk, still somewhere public, but where we would be able to have a more private conversation." Taking her hand again, he continued, "I'd be able to tell you the green velvet of your eyes rivaled the deepest green in the oceans of the south pacific and that no shimmer of moonlight could surpass the sparkle of your smile. And at long last, I'd ask about your life in Philadelphia, what was it like and what prompted you to leave the big city for our quiet waters here in Schooner Bay?" She looked up at him, realizing the game was ending and ready or not she finally had to prepare to share her own story. "You mean more than, I assume," she took a deep breath, "than merely the lady is widowed and needs to find affordable living quarters?" "Only if she, if you want to tell me, M'dear."
Leaning back, she took a long long look at him, "Let's begin, what do you know, or think you know? I'll start from there."
"I believe you learned the man you married was not what he appeared, and it caused you pain. I would also say I believe you have successfully hidden much of this from the children, but at a severe cost to yourself. Do know I ask only because I wish to be of help, not just out of idle curiosity. It is painful to see what wounds he caused and I hope I might be able to help heal them, if I may. Am I mistaken?"
"No," she looked pensive.
"I've come to believe that in many ways, we are the products of what our pain and disappointments create. Richard was cosseted and pampered. Ralph and Marjorie kept every failure from touching him. Bad behavior in school, it was always someone else's fault. Poor grades, an inept teacher. Inability to make a sports team, Ralph was there with a check to grease the way. In the beginning, I thought each failed business endeavor, each bad investment, every impossible choice was different, but no matter the situation, it was never his fault. He was a victim, or believed he was, of epic proportions.
My friends thought it was fate when we met. It's true; we looked the part of Philadelphia society, each from good families, well connected and very much a solid next generation. I knew he was spoiled and self-indulgent, but assumed that was just the result of being an only child, only son from over protective parents. I believed, well, hoped once he was on his own, married and making his own choices it would be corrected." "So, I assume you had doubts even then?" he asked quietly, "how did the elopement occur?"
Looking down and shaking her head, she looked up with a sheepish expression, "Actually it was my idea to elope. I couldn't face the huge production that both our families expected. Every instinct I had told me the quicker we built our own lives, the better it would be. It might have worked, but it turns out that was the last thing he did without their approval. I don't know whose life he was living, but it wasn't his own. He had to take the 'right' job to please his father, needed to start a family almost immediately to please both of them. I was anxious enough about being married, and wasn't ready to be a mother, but he wanted, needed a son, a next generation of Muir to meet his father's hopes. As it turned out, I was expecting Candi before our first anniversary. When she arrived it was dreadful, his disappointment, as he said to 'only have a girl'. I have always tried to keep Candi from feeling or understanding he had no interest in a daughter."
A sudden rumble sounded from the clear sky, "What kind of cad would deny that beautiful child?" Reaching over to hold his hand, she looked up sadly, "Daniel, as far as he felt, she was an object, a failed object. He hadn't the slightest idea or interest in knowing anything about her." Shaking his head in disbelief, he grasped her hand tightly, and settled back to hear the rest.
"I could tell you so much more, but it all was really the same issues over and over again. When I was having Jonathan that was the final bit of hope I had for us. Once we had a son, I knew nothing would make me offer him up on the altar of the 'next Muir generation'. Needless to say naming him Jonathan was not popular with any of the Muir family."
"I still don't know where I got that strength, but I do know once we got home from the hospital that our marriage had practically ended. Richard knew he couldn't force my hand, wouldn't be able to change my thinking. It was like living in a house with a stranger, that is whenever he was there at all. And that wasn't very often. The only thing we did together after that was fight. We fought and fought." She looked up with a weary smile, "Captain, you may have noticed I also have a temper. I was tired of being the only grown up, the only one who had to pay the consequences for his inability to think, understand and plan for consequences. In the odd moments when he did think, did follow through it'd be my fault for not trusting him, when it went wrong; it was still my fault for expecting to trust him, to not understand him enough to make a better plan."
"That last evening, thank heavens the kids were with my parents for an overnight stay. I will always be thankful they never heard that argument. I was ready to leave, told him he had failed me in every possible way, and was unable to be a real father to either of our children. When he finished his own tirade, he stormed out, both of us in tears and he drove off. The horrible part is no one can know for sure, how his car ended up underwater off Penn Landing. I'll always know I played a role in what happened, whether it was an accident or something else. Daniel, sometimes I think the worst part isn't the guilt, but the immense sense of relief that I didn't – the three of us didn't have to live that life any more."
Unable to hold her as he desperately wanted, he kept tightly grasping her hands. She didn't sob; rather let her tears fall silently down her face. "It is a tough combination to balance, and it's always been easier to just ignore it, rather than try to figure out something without an answer. Does that make any sense?"
"Thank you my love, thank you for sharing all of this," he whispered softly into her ear. "I'll never ask again, and you and I together will make sure the children forever more only know how loved and wanted they are here at Gull Cottage. You have my word Carolyn."
Taking a deep, shuddering breath she stood up and taking his hand pulled him up to join her. "It's an old pain Daniel, just new to you, but I'm glad we can get through it now together." She turned to watch the ocean waves for a moment, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her. They stood silently until far below, they heard Martha call that lunch was ready.
"I'm not. . . can't right now," she turned to look at him. Nodding he disappeared, and returned a few moments later with a small basket in his hands. "Martha suggests a picnic at hilltop might be the better choice, shall we go on?"
He held out his hand, she grasped it with her own gloved hand, and they headed out, up the path together.