Follow the Stars Home. Luanne Rice
was something else entirely. He trembled when he held her. He said “I need you” at least as often as “I love you.” He told her he kept time by the tides, and she found that incredibly romantic. The first time he was late, he blamed it on an east-setting current. Then he wrapped her in his arms and told her when he’d been out of sight of land, he’d been afraid he might drown without ever seeing her again.
He told Dianne she was all he had.
He called her ship-to-shore twice a day. Anchoring on the Landsdowne Shoal, he shot off white flares spelling “Dianne” in Morse code. He saved the best lobsters he caught and cooked them for her dinner. They drank wine every night.
They made love. Holding her so tenderly, his arms quivered, and Tim whispered her name over and over. They’d lie in the bunk of his boat, wrapped in wool blankets and feeling the rhythm of the sea. At those times his eyes would look serious and afraid. He’d gaze at her face as if trying to memorize every feature.
“Don’t ever leave me,” he’d whisper.
“Never,” she’d whisper back.
“I can’t lose you,” he said. “This has to be forever.”
“How can you think it wouldn’t be?” she asked, feeling scared. She was taking the same risk: To give herself this totally to another human being, she had to believe that he was going to stay always, be true to his word, love her until the end of time.
“Things change,” he said. “For some people.”
“Not for us,” she promised.
“My parents,” he said. That night he told her his version of what had happened to his family. They had been so close: His parents had been childhood sweethearts. They’d gotten married at twenty, had three little boys. Life had been a dream. They had fished, and crabbed, and swum. Their mother had made them picnics. And then Neil had gotten sick.
The family fell apart. His mother lost her mind: The sheer agony of seeing her son die drove her to drink. Unable to help her, his father stayed at sea. Alan turned to books, Tim went fishing. And Neil died anyway. Alan had told Dianne before, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear.
“I’m so sorry,” Dianne whispered.
“No one’s ever going to leave me again,” Tim said. “Ever.”
“You can’t control fate,” she said. “As much as you want to.”
Pulling back, Tim’s eyes were dark and troubled. He peered into her face, wiping tears from his cheeks.
“I have to,” he said. “’Cause I’m not going through that again.”
“Losing someone you love must be awful,” Dianne said. “But look at Alan – he used your brother’s death for something positive. Deciding he wanted to be a doctor.”
Tim moaned.
“Tim!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and she could feel him shaking. “It’s just that there’s nothing positive about Neil dying. And I don’t like you talking about Alan like he’s so wonderful, the great and powerful doctor. He had his chance with you and …” He trailed off, his face bright red.
“I love you,” Dianne said, brushing his hair out of his eyes, scared at the expression on his face. “Not Alan.”
“No woman’s ever come between us before,” he said.
“I don’t want to come between you.”
“Then take my side,” he said.
“I will. I do,” she said, confused.
“I’ve never loved a girl before,” Tim said.
“Never?” Dianne asked, shaken to her core. She had her bad boy all right: He was too handsome, too wild, too charming not to have had girlfriends. He was telling her a blatant lie, and she knew it.
“I’ve been with girls, but I’ve never loved anyone,” he said, kissing her forehead, smoothing her hair. “Never until you.”
“People have to love each other through the worst,” Dianne said, her voice trembling. She had lived a blessed life: There was so much love in her family, and thankfully no one had ever been sick. But for some reason, she thought of Alan asking her about her happiest memory, her family pets, telling her about his life, and she swallowed hard.
“You think we can?” Tim asked, holding her face in his hands.
“Oh, I know we can,” she said.
“We’re sticking together,” Tim said. “Starting now.”
And Dianne believed him. He needed her. Life had hurt him badly, left him damaged, and Dianne was ready to nurture him in their marriage. For the first time in her life, she could believe that her own motto, “Home Sweet Home,” applied to her. Happiness was possible. Love was true. She and Tim would have many sweet babies, and she would build playhouses for all of them. Life would be so beautiful.
They would love each other through the worst.
She would always support Tim’s point of view, and she would try to ease his rivalry with Alan, so the McIntosh brothers could stay close.
She and Tim would never be apart.
They had promised.
Alan hadn’t felt like ripping Tim apart since that day on the Widener Library steps. But the day Tim told him he was going to marry Dianne, the old feelings came tearing back. Tim was going on about how they wanted Alan to be in the wedding, would he be Tim’s best man? Cold fury filled Alan’s chest.
“What d’you say?” Tim asked. “You plan on keeping me in suspense?”
“You asked her to marry you and she said yes?”
“No,” Tim said, his eyes sharp and bright. “We’re walking down the aisle for a joke. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Alan said, his blood racing.
“Bullshit. I know you.” Tim exhaled as if he had the north wind inside him. He began to pace around Alan’s office.
“It’s pretty quick, isn’t it?” Alan asked. “I mean, you hardly know her.”
“I know her fine. Listen, this isn’t because you used to go out with her, is it? Because I’ve been under the impression there was nothing much between you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you had only one date.”
“Yeah,” Alan said. “One date.”
“So what’s the problem?”
The problem was, Alan hadn’t been fast enough. The world could change in the course of one date, and when he’d been out with Dianne, he had known he had met someone amazing. He had felt a deep connection looking into her eyes and kissing her in the car, and he could have sworn she had felt it too. But then he had worked some late nights at the hospital, called Dianne at the wrong time, and lost his chance to see whether the connection was real or just a dream.
“So what’s the problem?” Tim asked again.
“You’re going to marry her and settle down?”
“Yep.”
“Really settle down?” Alan asked, making himself a disapproving jerk so Tim wouldn’t detect the fact he was being eaten alive by jealousy.
“As much as I can,” Tim said. “She knows about the boat, the lobster license, the fact I work offshore. I don’t think it bothers her.”
“She hasn’t watched you come and go,” Alan said. “For the last ten years.”
“Hey, you had your chance. You could have been an oceanographer. You’re the one who nailed yourself to a medical practice.”