“It’s never been about a boat, Sol. It’s about passions and lifelong dreams. Logic isn’t the driving force here. It can’t be.”
He gave that the moment it deserved, then asked, “How is it working with Noah?”
“He’s a leader,” she replied. “It’s his gift.”
“You like him.”
“Yes, and that’s not what we’re talking about. Well, it is, but not in the way . . . Noah can go all day without issuing a single order. He makes requests. He is constantly grateful. He’s the kindest man I’ve ever met. And people will do anything for him. Even show up early and spend every possible free hour working on a boat most suspect will never be seaworthy.”
Which was when Liam announced, “All done.”
Jenna watched him shut his drawing pad and start to leave the table. As usual. “Shouldn’t you thank Sol and show him what you’ve done?”
Liam stopped, one foot on the ground, like he was preparing to spring away. “Thanks.”
“Sol was nice enough to hold still in this heat,” Jenna insisted. “Showing him is the polite thing to do.”
Liam opened his pad, found the page, slid it slowly across the table.
Jenna watched Sol’s eyes go wide. “This is . . . Can I have it?”
“If he’ll let it go, which doesn’t happen often, Liam’s sketches go for thirty dollars. Ryan’s rules.” She watched Liam retract his pad and walk away. “Maybe next time.”
“Is he always this quiet?”
“Liam talks when he needs to.”
Sol stared at the empty space on the table. “Sign the documents, Jenna.”
* * *
At some point deep in the night, Noah had the dream that had plagued so many of his last nights in LA.
It began in the same way, a swirling collage of images, him working on a project that was late, and he couldn’t get the materials, and the studio was threatening him with dismissal. Everyone on the set was stressed and angry. Just the same, he knew he had to leave. Walk away from this huge project at a critical moment. Because he was due in court.
The dream shifted. He was seated in the corridor outside the courtroom. The bench was hard as iron, it dug into his back, but Noah couldn’t move. His attorney was inside, arguing with the judge, fighting against the inevitable. Noah could somehow see through the closed doors. He knew he was about to lose everything. He should be in there fighting with her. But he couldn’t move.
His gaze shifted. And he realized Elaine, his ex-wife, was seated there beside him. She held the divorce papers. And a pen. She reached out. “Here. Sign.”
But Noah couldn’t even move his hand. The documents slipped out of his lap. The pen rattled like a lonely drum as it struck the tiled floor. He stared down at the pages now spread around his feet. Helpless.
Elaine drew his attention back with, “One question.”
That phrase,One question, was how their deepest conversations had often begun. In his dream, Noah studied her in the light of divorce. A woman who for him was only yesterday. Noah wondered if he managed to carry his pain as well as she did. Stoic, calm, hurting, but determined to heal. And so lovely.
Noah heard himself say, “Anything.”
His ex-wife asked, “Did you ever want children?”
At that point, as always, Noah woke up.
He lay there in the dark, listening to the valley’s soft night sounds through his open window, remembering how the dream’s aftermath had assaulted him back in LA. Waking up bathed in sweat, feeling lost and helpless and alone and . . .
Reduced to a burned-out, exhausted hulk.
Noah rose from his bed, padded barefoot into the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. The ancient fridge hummed and rattled. He unlatched the screen door and stepped onto the porch. The wind had cooled now, the air filled with clean, dry California flavors. He leaned against the railing and breathed deep. Remembering how things once had been, everything he had lost in the process. He was so grateful for this place and its healing winds. It felt as though he had left LA years ago, rather than just a few weeks. The open-sided barn cut a massive silhouette from the night.
The bow jutted out, a huge unfinished sculpture. Noah relished the coming day, the work and the sweat and the friends there to call on.
