Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
Say what? I want to ask. Say that my husband was returned to me as a shell of his former self? Say that our lives were upended because of a war I never believed in? Say that I’m always worried about my husband because I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing half the time when he’s not drinking or depressed? Say that I’m an awful person for thinking all of this?
A thousand shades of gray.
“Yes, it is a blessing,” I reply. “It’s just hard to talk about.”
“I understand,” Pam says. She reaches out and touches my arm. “You’re doing what you can for your family.”
“Yes,” I say, forcing a smile.
“Are you a teacher?” she asks. “Or a secretary?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m a chemical engineer,” I say.
“Oh!”
“I’m working for a boat and yacht manufacturer here,” I continue. “I’m developing a new marine paint to prevent rust and barnacles on ships and docks.”
“That’s amazing,” Pam says. I don’t know if she’s referring to the job or the fact I’m a chemical engineer. She looks at me closely, as if for the first time, and I can see myself reflected in the slippery gloss coating her lips: my brown shaggy hair, little makeup, big black eyeglass frames. I think of the neighbor’s fence. Perhaps I’m trying to keep the world at bay, too. “I never think of engineers as being, well, creative.”
I nod. “People always say engineers aren’t creative, but we are. In fact, my work is a sort of art—scientific painting if you will.” I raise my hands and wave them around. “Our world is made of scientific paint mixing. I mean, just look at the air we breathe. It’s made up of lots of other things besides oxygen, which is only about twenty-one percent of air. About seventy-eight percent of the air we breathe is made up of nitrogen. There are also tiny amounts of other gases like argon, carbon dioxide and methane.” I stop and gesture at the lake. “And what is water made of?”
Pam is staring at me.
“Fascinating,” she says as she reapplies her gloss. “Well, this is a perfect place for your family, then. Grand Haven is a water and boating hub. You know this is the Coast Guard City of the US, right? And we hold the annual Coast Guard Festival, which honors and respects the men and women of the US Coast Guard. Your husband should be right at home here. And you, too.” She smiles. “Now let me show you the house, okay? And that view!”