Page 45 of The Quiet Rebuild

Lindsey thanked him. And for the first time, she told him, “I love you, Jake.”

She couldn’t believe it, but she really did. She’d fallen in love with someone. She had a fresh lease on life.

“I love you, too,” Jake said, kissing her nose.

They fell asleep like that, their faces close together in the dark.

22

It had been a very long time since Lindsey had dreamed of her daughter. But during the murky hours before her alarm rang in Nantucket, she dreamed of Maya, of the coastline, of running up and down the sands beneath the palm trees, singing songs and making up games. Lindsey had forgotten that, when playing with Maya, she’d been able to pretend she was a kid, too. She’d forgotten that Maya hadn’t fully understood that Lindsey needed to be rational, sometimes. That she’d forgotten she was an adult, with adult worries and adult responsibilities. “Mama,” Maya had said, “this rock is a turtle, and all this ocean is mine.”

It felt cryptic, like a poem.

When Lindsey woke up, Jake was already in the kitchen with a pot of coffee, organizing his notes. He had a plan of attack, bird-wise, for their trip to Costa Rica. He couldn’t wait to tell Will more about it. But he abandoned his notes almost immediately to make Lindsey some toast and pour her a mug of coffee. “How did you sleep?” he asked her.

“I had beautiful dreams,” she said.

Jake smiled. “That’s a good sign, I guess?”

“I think so,” Lindsey said. She considered telling him about Maya, about what she’d said. But she decided to keep it to herself.

In the weeks before departure, Will had prepared them as best as he could for their time at sea. Lindsey—who’d learned to sail as a young girl—had her sea legs, and Taylor had been on plenty of yachts during her years of fame, but Jake didn’t initially take to it. Lindsey did her best to tend to him, rubbing his back during his seasickness and making him bowls of soup and mugs of tea.

After three days, Jake announced he was better. They celebrated with an on-deck barbecue, flipping vegetables and veggie burgers over a little grill. Lindsey gazed around her—at the gorgeous setting sun and the miles of Atlantic Ocean on all sides. They hadn’t seen the coast for a day and a half. It felt as though they were living the most sensational of fairy tales.

The trip to Costa Rica took twenty days. Throughout, the air shifted, and the sun grew hotter and less forgiving. Often, they took breaks, tying their boat up at the nearest port so they could swim, rest, and rehydrate. Lindsey was surprised at how arduous a journey of this length truly was. After so many hours of onboard work, her arms and legs felt muscular and sure of themselves. Taylor was tanner than Lindsey had ever seen her.

The four of them felt like they were operating as a team.

On the night before they were set to land in Costa Rica, Lindsey and Taylor kept watch at night. Often, they did shifts, with only one person on deck, beneath the moon, ready to holler if anything wasn’t right. But this time, excitement about what awaited them kept both Taylor and Lindsey awake.

Lindsey, in particular, couldn’t escape the adrenaline pumping through her. She’d begun to recognize landmarks en route, sights that brought her back to her twenties and thirties, when she’d been a master of these waters. She couldn’t count the number of scuba diving adventures she’d been on around here. What a life she’d lived, she thought.

It was Taylor who asked Lindsey if she had plans to see Christopher. Lindsey hadn’t dared say it aloud, but the truth was that she wanted to see him. She wanted to see Piper, too. She wanted to thank them both for sending the box of Maya’s things, because it had finally allowed Lindsey to say goodbye.

“I want to call him,” Lindsey explained softly. “But it feels too harrowing to call his number.”

“Maybe you should just go to the scuba diving shop and see if he’s there,” Taylor suggested.

“Ooph. Isn’t that harsh?” Lindsey asked. “And dramatic? I don’t want to drop into his life like that.”

“Didn’t you start that place together?” Taylor reminded her.

Lindsey admitted they had. “If I get up the nerve to do it, I’ll do it.”

“You’ve come this far,” Taylor said.

The following morning at eleven, they tied their boat in the Playas del Coco harbor—only two miles away from the house where Lindsey and Christopher had raised their daughter. Tears filled Lindsey’s eyes, but she couldn’t stop laughing and eyeing the colorful beauty of this land she’d once called home.

Once off the sailboat, Lindsey, Jake, Will, and Taylor burst into town, grateful for land and the freedom it lent them. They could walk and walk and walk and never get tired. They wound up at a lunch spot for tacos and guacamole, and Jake suggested they have margaritas to celebrate. The conversation never grew boring. Will outlined everything he wanted to do over the next few days, as Taylor stretched her arms and announced that she’d help him only to a point. “I have a date with a book and a beach,” she said, laughing.

Lindsey knew that Taylor had been killing herself with the foundation. The various interviews she’d given had catapulted Maya’s Ocean into the stratosphere, and she’d had nonstop meetings throughout June. She needed a break.

Will kissed her cheek and told her to take all the time she needed.

“There’s a bird that usually only comes out at twilight here in Costa Rica,” Jake said then, reaching for a chip and waving it around excitedly, as though he forgot to eat it. “I read online where to go to see it. I want to head there tonight. You’re all welcome.”

Lindsey squeezed his hand under the table. “You should go and take us another day,” she said.