“Not at first. At first I was miserable about the baby, and the burns took ages to heal, whereas Sam was back on his feet in a month. He was my strength. He was the one who flew us to Hawai’i, who found this place, who made contact with the Rofranos and arranged for the sale of the house, so we could have something to live on. He was the one who brought Sandy from California, who held me every night when these terrible dreams woke me, who took me out surfing again when my body could stand it. We bought Coolibah and fixed it up together. Then we had Doris. Every day of that pregnancy was like a torture to me. I was so afraid of losing the baby. I had these nightmares that I was in the desert again, that she was coming out of me. But then she was born healthy and kicking and … well, Doris. You know.”

“She’s Doris, all right.”

“Oh, we fell in love with her, right from the start. Sam just adored her with this idolatrous love; he carried her around everywhere with him, wouldn’t let her out of his sight. We’d already started the airline. First it was just a charter for tourists, but soon we were running regular flights and taking on pilots. Wesley arrived right after. I was so busy. I learned I could just put everything in a box, everything that had happened, and put that box at the back of the closet, and we were happy. The world had left us alone at last, we were still madly in love after all this time. We had these two beautiful children together, we were flying every day, we could step right outside our house and surf side by side. We were in paradise! But it turned out that Sam couldn’t put everything in a box, the way I could. The lid wouldn’t stay shut, no matter how hard he tried.”

She speaks in a clear, precise voice, as if she’s considered all these thoughts before. When I sneak a glance or two in her direction, she’s staring straight ahead, without actually looking at anything. Even this pause seems considered.

“You might think,” she continues, “that if you love somebody long enough and hard enough, you can make him happy. If you give him a home, and children, and love. If you give him comfort at night, and adventure during the day. And he was happy. For weeks at a time, it was so good. It was miraculous. He took this joy in the children, you can’t imagine. And then the darkness would fall again. I always knew because he would fly somewhere, or drive somewhere, or surf somewhere.” She lifts her right hand and points. “Right out there. You see that wave? That was his favorite, when he was in despair, because he knew it might kill him.”