Page 96 of The Castaways
“Forgiveness is a powerful thing,” the Chief said. “I forgive myself, and I forgive each of you. I forgive Tess and Greg. But we have a job ahead of us. We have two kids to raise. Chloe and Finn are going to live with Andrea and me, but it’s going to take all of us to help turn them into healthy, productive adults. It’s going to take all of us to love them the way their parents would have. Okay?”
“Okay,” the table echoed.
Jeffrey said, “I think we should have a moment of silence.”
“Agreed,” the Chief said. And for a long time they were quiet. Andrea and Phoebe had their heads bowed; Delilah stared out the dark window. Addison took off his glasses and pressed his eyes.
Then Jeffrey cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said.
The Chief nodded, and reached for a chip. Delilah turned on music: Stevie Wonder singing “I Believe.” Andrea said, “Can I please have a glass of chardonnay?”
And then Phoebe stood up. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Wait aminute!”
They all stopped.
Phoebe said, “Addison and I have something to tell you.”
EPILOGUE
PHOEBE
She paid the money, she okayed the landscape architect and the signage, she monitored the progress, tramping out to the savannah even on brutally cold winter days, and she picked the day of the ribbon-cutting. June 20: the one-year anniversary of Greg and Tess’s death, the anniversary of their anniversary.
Chloe and Finn were going to cut the ribbon, and all of them—the Chief, Andrea, Kacy and Eric, Jeffrey, Delilah, Drew and Barney, Addison, Phoebe, and their baby, Reed Gregory Wheeler, age four weeks, two days, confined to a Baby Bjorn—were going to walk the trail for a ceremonial first time.
It happened exactly as Phoebe had imagined it. Chloe and Finn cut a yellow satin ribbon at the head of the trail (which meant that Chloe cut and Finn stretched out his hand to make it look like he was cutting), and the forty-seven Nantucket citizens present clapped politely (and yes, some cried).
Phoebe stood with baby Reed asleep against her chest and watched as Andrea, the Chief, Addison, Jeffrey, and Delilah read the sign.
The Gregory MacAvoy and
Tess DiRosa MacAvoy Memorial Trail
Donated with love by the Castaways
The Chief turned and smiled. Drew and Barney and Finn raced ahead on the trail, yelping like Indians. Chloe asked if she could pick wildflowers, and Phoebe said, “This is conservation land. Do you know what that means?”
Chloe said, “Does it mean no flowers?”
“Well, maybe just one,” Phoebe said. “Since it is your mom and dad’s trail.”
Chloe smiled and bounded ahead to catch the boys.
Just as Phoebe had imagined it, it was a beautiful day.
DELILAH
You didn’t expect her to let Phoebe have the last word, did you?
There was one last story to tell. And really, it wasn’t thelaststory, at least not chronologically. But it might have been the most important story, in some elusive way.
In one of the middle years, they took a trip to Sayulita, Mexico. Sayulita was on the west coast, north of Puerto Vallarta. It was unspoiled paradise—sugar-sand beaches, great rolling waves, lush green cliffs towering above. The town was a cross between Spanish colonial architecture and a funky expat enclave. There were coffeeshops and taco stands and chickens in the street. They had rented a four-bedroom house built into the side of one of the lush green cliffs. There was a stone path that led from town to their house; it was a steep walk that left them all winded, but then astounded by the view from their upper deck. The house was a study in simplicity; it had arched doorways and outdoor showers and was kept cool by lazy ceiling fans and thick walls of stucco. There was a brick patio and an oval saltwater pool. There was a hibiscus bush in the yard, which delighted Tess no end; she had a peachy-pink blossom tucked in her hair all week, and as a joke, the rest of them walked around with hibiscus blossoms protruding from one of their nostrils or their cleavage or their fly.
The trip to Sayulita had been their best trip, Delilah saw now, because it wasn’t about the flash and cash of Vegas, or the important sights of London, or the hipster scene of South Beach. It had been barefoot and carefree; they were eight individuals allowing one another to be individuals, and yet coming together as a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. Delilah’s memories of Sayulita glowed. She remembered strolling in town with Andrea, Tess, and Phoebe, each of them buying a pareo from a wizened woman with tobacco-stained teeth. They wore the pareos all week over their bathing suits. They bought fish tacos from a twelve-year-old boy and his mother. These tacos remained the best thing Delilah had ever eaten. The fish was snapper, caught in the early morning by the husband/father and marinated in oil, lime juice, garlic, and chiles, and then grilled on a hibachi that was attached to the cart. The grilled fish was wrapped in a handmade tortilla with fresh tomato, chopped iceberg, chunks of creamy avocado, crumbled white cheese that had no name other thanqueso,and the whole thing was drizzled with a tangy lime crema. The tacos were ten bites of nirvana, a mouthful so delicious that Delilah would shake at night with cravings, and the taco cost seventy-five cents.
Phoebe was partial to banana shakes. Andrea and the Chief adored the carne asada from a cart a block away. Greg bought a bottle oftequila especialefrom a man who loitered outside the grocery. Everyone was certain that the tequila would kill them, but the man had brainwashed Greg that it was indeedmucho especiale,even though the bottle cost only two dollars. “The guy said it can curecancer!” They made margaritas from the tequila, using limes from the tree in their yard, and they all acquired a buzz that moved from silver to gold. It was magic tequila! In the morning they felt happy and light, healthier than they had the day before. Could they import the stuff and make a fortune?
They lay around the pool in a human chain, sharing books; Andrea ripped her paperback in half and gave Delilah the beginning while she finished the end. The Chief got up early every morning and spotted whales offshore with his binoculars. Andrea wanted to learn to surf, and she convinced Addison to go with her. The other six watched the surf lesson from the beach. They felt proud of Andrea; she was such a gifted swimmer, a natural on the board. They cheered Addison on; the dude was not gifted, but he was a good sport. When he finally stood up and rode a wave, they gave him a standing ovation.
