He looked away from the girl and she shut the door of the shower. He did not know what made him feel as he did. But the happiness of the summer began to drain out of him as when the tide changes on the flats and the ebb begins in the channel that opens out to sea. He watched the sea and the line of beach and he noticed that the tide had changed and the shore birds were working busily well down the slope of new wet sand. The breakers were diminishing as they receded. He looked a long way up along the shore and then went into the house.
They had a fine time the last few days. It was as good as any of the time before and there was no pre-going sadness. The yacht left and Audrey took a room over the Ponce de León. But she stayed at the house and slept on a cot on the sleeping porch at the far end of the house and used the guest room.
She did not say anything again about being in love with Roger. All Roger said to Thomas Hudson about her was, “She’s married to some sort of a son of a bitch.”
“You couldn’t expect her to wait all her life for you, could you?”
“At least he’s a son of a bitch.”
“Aren’t they always? You’ll find he has his nice side.”
“He’s rich.”
“That’s probably his nice side,” Thomas Hudson said. “They’re always married to some son of a bitch and he always has some tremendously nice side.”
“All right,” Roger said. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“You’re going to do the book, aren’t you?”
“Sure. That’s what she wants me to do.”
“Is that why you’re going to do it?”
“Shove it, Tom,” Roger told him.
“Do you want to use the Cuba House? It’s only a shack. But you’d be away from people.”
“No. I want to go West.”
“The Coast?”
“No. Not the Coast. Could I stay at the ranch for a while?”
“There’s only the one cabin that’s on the far beach. I rented the rest.”
“That would be fine.”
The girl and Roger took long walks on the beach and swam together and with the boys. The boys went bone-fishing and took Audrey bone-fishing and goggle-fishing on the reef. Thomas Hudson worked hard and all the time he was working and the boys were out on the flats he had the good feeling that they would be home soon and they would be having supper or dinner together. He was worried when they were goggle-fishing but he knew Roger and Eddy would make them be careful. One time they all went trolling for a full day up to the furthest light at the end of the bank and had a wonderful day with bonito and dolphin and three big wahoo. He painted a canvas of a wahoo with his strange flattened head and his stripes around his long speed-built body for Andy, who had caught the biggest one. He painted him against a background of the big spider-legged lighthouse with the summer clouds and the green of the banks.
Then one day the old Sikorsky amphibian circled the house once and then landed in the bay and they rowed the three boys out to her in the dinghy. Joseph sculled out in another dinghy with their bags. Young Tom said, “Goodbye, papa. It certainly was a swell summer.”
David said, “Goodbye, papa. It certainly was wonderful. Don’t worry about anything. We’ll be careful.”
Andrew said, “Goodbye, papa. Thanks for a wonderful, wonderful summer and for the trip to Paris.”
They climbed up into the cockpit door and all waved from the door to Audrey, who was standing on the dock, and called, “Goodbye! Goodbye, Audrey.”
Roger was helping them up and they said, “Goodbye, Mr. Davis. Goodbye, papa.” Then very loud and carrying over the water, “Goodbye, Audrey!”
Then the door closed and locked and they were faces through the small glass panes and then they were water-splashed faces as the old coffee mills revved up. Thomas Hudson pulled away from the rush of spray and the ancient, ugly plane taxied out and took off into the little breeze there was and then circled once and straightened course, steady, ugly, and slow across the Gulf.
Thomas Hudson knew Roger and Audrey would be leaving and as the run-boat was coming the next day he asked Roger when he was going.
“Tomorrow, old Tom,” Roger said.
“With Wilson?”
“Yes. I asked him to come back.”
“I just wanted to know about ordering on the run-boat.”
So the next day they left the same way. Thomas Hudson kissed the girl goodbye and she kissed him. She had cried when the boys left and she cried that day and held him close and hard.
“Take good care of him and take good care of you.”
“I’m going to try. You’ve been awful good to us, Tom.”
“Nonsense.”
“I’ll write,” Roger said. “Is there anything you want me to do out there?”
“Have fun. You might let me know how things are.”
“I will. This one will write, too.”
So they were gone, too, and Thomas Hudson stopped in at Bobby’s on the way home.
“Going to be goddam lonely,” Bobby said.
“Yes,” Thomas Hudson said. “It’s going to be goddam lonely.”