"I don't know. But as Dad often says, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Shall we?" Cary held out his arm and I took it, still quite shocked and confused. When we got to the stairway, I went upstairs to get my fiddle.
They were all sitting in the living room waiting for me with great expectation on their faces when I appeared in the doorway. Uncle Jacob was settling back in his chair, puffing his pipe. Aunt Sara sat on the couch with Cary on one side and May on the other.
"May has a way of hearing this," I explained and gestured for her to come to me. She understood. When I put the fiddle up, she placed her hand on the case so she could feel the vibrations while I played. I did seven tunes, singing along with three of them. Aunt Sara looked very pleased and Uncle Jacob nodded and tapped his fingers along with the rhythms. Cary never took his eyes from me.
"Well, that's real nice," Uncle Jacob said. "You earned yourself a few dinners."
"I'll see to the dishes," Aunt Sara said, rising. "That was wonderful, Melody. Thank you."
"I'll put away my fiddle and come help you clean up, Aunt Sara."
"Oh no, you don't," she said. "You heard Jacob. You earned your keep. Just go enjoy yourself," she insisted.
I went back upstairs to put away my fiddle. While I was busy returning it to its case, Cary poked his head in the door.
"How about that dip in the ocean?" he asked. "What about May?"
"I gave her something to do on one of my models. She's painting."
"You mean you bribed her?" I said, laughing.
"Whatever works," he said.
"Okay. I'll put on my bathing suit."
"Put it under your clothes," he said. "I'd rather it be our secret."
I nodded and did as he said. We met down by the front door and left quickly, letting Uncle Jacob and Aunt Sara think we were just taking a walk.
"I don't like doing things behind their backs like this, Cary," I complained.
"Why make Ma nervous, which is what would happen," he said. "It's not really a lie when you're doing it to help someone else, Melody. It's only a lie when you hurt someone or you can't live with it," he added.
Maybe he was right, I thought. Maybe I was holding up too high a standard because I had been lied to so much and for so long. He took my hand and we first went to the lobster boat where he said there were towels. After we got them, we crossed the sand toward one of his favorite places on the beach. It was a small cove, hidden by two small dunes.
I didn't really notice the stars until Cary spread out the biggest towel and we sat for a few moments, gazing out at the ocean and then up at the sky. Cary pointed out the Big Dipper, the North Star, and what he said was Venus.
"A sailor has to be able to read the stars," he explained. "They're his map."
"I've never been on a boat at night, but I can imagine how lost and alone you could feel if you didn't know how to steer your boat," I said.
"Without the stars, the darkness is so thick, you feel as if the ocean has risen all around you and you're sailing into it," Cary said. "Of course, we have our compasses. I think I was on the water before I could walk on land. Dad wanted me to have my sea legs first."
I laughed and he pulled off his shirt and stood up.
"It will be cold at first," he warned, "but after you're in it a few seconds, it will feel great."
It was a warm night, wonderful for a dip in the ocean. I stood up and unbuttoned my blouse. He stepped out of his pants and then kicked off his shoes. I took off my dungarees, placed my shoes and socks on the towel and then reached out to take his hand when he offered it. We walked down to the water slowly. When the white foam ran over my toes, I jumped.
"Easy," Cary said putting his arm around my waist. "It's colder than I thought," I said and tried to retreat, but he tightened his grip on my waist. "You'll love it."
"Cary, I don't think so," I said shaking my head. He laughed and tugged until I stepped farther down the beach. The water reached my ankles.
"You've just got to go for it," he advised. He let go of me and turned to dive right into the waves. When he popped up, he was laughing. "It's great," he claimed. "Makes you feel alive all over."
"Sure," I said, hesitating.
"Come on. Be brave."