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Show Fair Forever 127 could tell she was crying, sobbing in the rain. She drifted and cried and drifted and cried. Finally, when.the.sun broke out, she bailed and rowed back. That night on the catwalk, I told her she rowed like an old salt." "I remember," Mom says. "She was puzzled. She didn't understand that you'd given her a compliment." '"Can't you think up a more flattering description?' she asked." Mom nods. "And you said, 'Nope. That's as good as it gets.'" Mom's voice fades thin, her smile erasing as she remembers. She's seeing the next day. The day Amanda rowed to the lighthouse. We float quietly by Beacon 9. Mom is thoughtful. She looks north toward the lighthouse, waits for the flash. Suddenly, I hear the hum of a familiar outboard. I spin in my seat to see the old man rushing in our direction, his battered, gray boat cutting a,broad wake. I smile and wave. "Whb's that?" Mom asks. "That's the old guy I told you about. The guy I've been talking to here in the channel." I cup my hand over my forehead, shading the sun. The man waves and cuts his power, gliding smoothly to Beacon 9. He floats and stares at my mom. "I've been looking for you," I say. "I was wondering when you'd show up." The old guy continues to stare, his eyes narrow. He's staring straight at my mom and he's confused. Mom smoothes the front of her shirt self-consciously. The guy notices. "Sorry, for staring," he says. "I thought you were someone else." |