But that’s ridiculous , he thought. She has to know .

Garrett called for her to stop, but instead she began to run faster.

She was approaching the edge of the cliff.

With a feeling of certain dread, he saw that he was still too far behind her to catch her.

He ran as fast as he could, screaming for her to turn around. She didn’t appear to hear him. He felt the adrenaline rush through his body, fed by a paralyzing fear. “Stop, Catherine!” he shouted, his lungs exhausted. “The cliff—you’re not watching where you’re going!” The more he shouted, the softer his voice became, until it turned into a whisper.

Catherine kept on running, unaware. The cliff was only a few feet away.

He was closing ground.

But he was still too far behind.

“Stop!” he screamed again, though this time he knew she couldn’t hear it. His voice had diminished to nothing. The panic he felt then was greater than anything he’d ever known. With everything he had, he willed his legs to move faster, but they began to tire, turning heavier with every step he took.

I’m not going to make it , he thought, panicking.

Then, just as suddenly as she had broken away, she stopped. Turning to face him, she seemed oblivious of any danger.

she stood only inches from the edge.

“Don’t move,” he shouted, but again it came out in a whisper. He stopped a few feet from her and held out his hand, breathing heavily.

“Come toward me,” he pleaded. “You’re right on the edge.”

She smiled and glanced behind her. Noticing how close she was to falling, she turned toward him.

“Did you think you were going to lose me?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, “and I promise not to ever let it happen again.”

*  *  *

Garrett woke and sat up in bed, staying awake for several hours afterward. When he finally fell back to sleep, it was fitful at best, and it was almost ten o’clock the next morning before he was able to get up. Still exhausted and feeling depressed, he found it impossible to think about anything but the dream. Not knowing what to do, he called his father, who met him for breakfast in their usual place.

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” he told his father after a few minutes of small talk. “I just don’t understand it.”

His father didn’t answer. Instead he watched his son over his coffee cup, remaining silent as his son went on.

“It’s not like she did anything to upset me,” he continued. “We just spent a long weekend together, and I really care for her. I met her son, too, and he’s great. It’s just that . . . I don’t know I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep this up.”

Garrett paused. The only sound came from the tables around them.

“Keep what up?” Jeb Blake finally asked.

garrett stirred his coffee absently. “I don’t know whether I can see her again.”

His father cocked an eyebrow but didn’t reply. Garrett went on.

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be. I mean, she doesn’t even live here. She’s a thousand miles away, she’s got her own life, she’s got her own interests. And here I am, living down here and leading an entirely separate life. Maybe she’d do better with someone else, someone she could see on a regular basis.”

He thought about what he’d said, knowing that he didn’t quite believe himself. Still, he didn’t want to tell his father about the dream.

“I mean, how can we build a relationship if we don’t see each other very often?”

Again his father said nothing. Garrett carried on, as if talking to himself.

“If she lived here and I could see her every day, I think I’d feel differently. But with her being gone . . .”

He trailed off, trying to make sense of his thoughts. After a while he spoke again.

“I just don’t see how we can make it work. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I don’t see how it could be possible. I don’t want to move to Boston, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to move here, so where would that leave us?”

Garrett stopped and waited for his father to say something—anything—in response to what he’d said up to that point. But for a while, he didn’t make a sound. Finally he sighed and looked away.

“It sounds to me like you’re making excuses,” Jeb said quietly. “you’re trying to convince yourself, and you’re using me to listen to yourself talk.”

“No, Dad, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out this whole thing.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to, Garrett?” Jeb Blake shook his head. “Sometimes, I swear you think I just fell off the turnip truck and bumbled through life without learning anything along the way. But I know exactly what you’re going through. You’ve gotten so caught up in being alone that you’re afraid of what might happen if you actually find someone else that can take you away from it.”

“I’m not afraid,” Garrett protested.

His father cut him off sharply. “You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you?”

The disappointment in his tone was unmistakable. “You know, Garrett, when your mom died, I made excuses, too. Over the years, I told myself all sorts of things. And you wanna know where it got me?”

He stared at his son. “I’m old and tired, and most of all, I’m alone. If I could go back in time, I’d change a lot about myself, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you do the same things I did.”

Jeb paused before going on, his tone softening. “I was wrong, Garrett. I was wrong not to try to find someone else. I was wrong to feel guilty about your mom. I was wrong to keep living my life the way I did, always suffering inside and wondering what she would have thought. Because you know what? I think your mom would have wanted me to find someone else. Your mom would have wanted me to be happy. And you know why?”

Garrett didn’t answer.

“because she loved me. And if you think that you’re showing your love to Catherine by suffering the way you’ve been doing, then somewhere along the way, I must have messed up in raising you.”

“You didn’t mess up. . . .”

“I must have. Because when I look at you, I see myself, and to be honest, I’d rather see someone different. I’d like to see someone who learned that it’s okay to go on, that it’s okay to find someone that can make you happy. But right now, it’s like I’m looking in the mirror and seeing myself twenty years ago.”

*  *  *

Garrett spent the rest of the afternoon alone, walking on the beach, thinking about what his father had said. Looking back, he knew he’d been dishonest from the start of the conversation and wasn’t surprised that his father had figured it out. Why, then, had he wanted to talk to him? Had he wanted his father to confront him as he had?

As the afternoon wore on, his depression gave way to confusion, then to a sort of numbness. By the time he called Theresa later in the evening, the feelings of betrayal he’d felt as a result of the dream had subsided enough to speak with her. They were still there, though not as strong, and when she answered the phone, he felt them diminish even further. The sound of her voice reminded him of the way he felt when they were together.

“I’m glad you called,” she said cheerfully, “I thought a lot about you today.”

“I thought about you, too,” he said. “I wish you were here right now.”

“Are you okay? You sound a little down.”

“I’m fine. . . . Just lonely that’s all. How was your day?”

“typical. too much to do at work, too much to do at home. But it’s better now that I’ve heard from you.”

Garrett smiled. “Is Kevin around?”

“He’s in his room reading a book about scuba diving. He tells me he wants to be a dive instructor when he grows up.”

“Where could he have gotten that idea?”

“I haven’t the slightest,” she said, amusement in her tone. “How about you? What did you do today?”

“Not much, actually. I didn’t go into the shop—I sort of took the day off and wandered the beaches.”