The cold of winter was upon him as Stephen Marshall walked along the Boston harbor. There were a number of ships anchored in the bay nearby, bobbing up and down in the brisk wind. Pulling his warm, fur-lined jacket close about him, he bent to the wind, stuffing his hands into his pockets and continuing his slow, thoughtful pace along the dock, watching the variety of boats tied up to the old piers.
In warm weather, he enjoyed coming here to watch the faces of the people as they passed by him: from the happy child holding his mother's hand, to the old, hunched-over, weathered man with only a few years left of a lonely, wasted life. Faces provided a study all of their own.
Tonight Stephen himself made a study, his face intent, head bent against the wind. As darkness began to descend and the old lanterns softened the night, he sat down for a few moments on a nearby bench.
From the docks came a loud whistle. He turned to watch a fairly good-sized boat pull out of the mouth of the harbor, out into the night—its lights shining in the inky darkness, leaving a trail of foam from its rudder. How long he sat there deep in thought, he couldn't be certain, but at last he rose and continued walking. Passing the many shops, he came at last to an old section of town, dense with beautifully preserved townhouses standing side by side as they had for so many years. Their miniature gardens intrigued him, along with their friendly porches-all displaying the charm of the past.
As much as he had once fought leaving the mid-west and coming to New England, he had to confess that, much like Jennie, he now felt at home in this quaint atmosphere. Many of the windows were covered with crisp white curtains and he recalled how in the summer the contrast of bright geraniums against the white background captured his artistic eye. Now he could see beyond to the warm interiors, where families gathered for the evening. He felt alone—shut out.
Holding his head high against his loneliness, he turned back to the dock area, thinking it might be less disturbing to sit awhile on one of the benches.
So many decisions were facing him. His life was rapidly changing. He needed to stop time for an evening.
He remembered how he first fought against coming to Jaffrey. Then, on his backpacking trip, he resolved to return for only one more year. His father once promised him that eventually he could return to Peoria or Oregon. But now his college life was so busy and full, that the longing to leave had disappeared. His strong love for his family urged him to stay. And something else was making a difference.
He felt a ready smile cross his face as he thought of Laurie. She was becoming such a good friend and while it might seem hasty to some, it really wasn't. For over a year now, they had been friends.
The strange thing about it all was how much Laurie and Jennie were alike. While Laurie was naturally different in many ways, yet there was something about her that made her seem like she could be Jennie's older sister—the same blue eyes, a similar kind of smile, the talkative way Jennie always shared with him. All this was Laurie, too.
Yet, he reflected, it was the difference in Laurie that drew him to her. He was impressed by the fact that she was ready to try the unusual, to venture out in a profession he admired. She was right there behind him, encouraging him in the projects that interested him, where Jennie tended to hold him back. He could even picture Laurie climbing those needle points of rock that were such a thrill to him. Yes, she would be right beside him on those mountain peaks, wanting to reach the top as much as he did.
His thoughts softened as he thought of Jennie. She still meant a great deal to him. She was special to him and would always be. She was the girl he grew up with, almost more like a dear sister than a friend. No, he never intended to hurt her. How would she accept this new friendship? He was convinced she would understand. He was always open and sincere with her. It just wasn't in him to lead a girl on intentionally and then hurt her. There was too much gentleness in him for that. Jennie had shared so much with him. Those growing-up years could never be forgotten. She understood when he lost Charlie his cocker and she was there praying for him when he got caught in the storm.
But as dear as Jennie was to him, the way he felt about Laurie was different. It was a total matching of personalities and ambitions. His growing-up years were behind him now.