Free Written on My Heart by Morgan Callan Rogers Page B

rose bushes in the side garden to block the wind. Dottie and Evie were on the porch swapping off a fussy Arlee as Madeline finished up coffee and tea.
    â€œShe likes me better,” Evie said to Dottie.
    â€œWell, that would be a miracle, now wouldn’t it?” Dottie shot back.
    I took Arlee from the squabbling sisters and went upstairs to feed her. I listened to the slamming of car doors and the murmurs of mourners as they filed into the side garden and into Grand’s house. Arlee sucked and purred for a while before she fell asleep, her open mouth still on my nipple. I put her to nap in her crib and paced back to our bedroom, not ready to go downstairs and face my guests.
    I looked out of our bedroom window toward Daddy’s house and saw a car parked in back of Stella’s car. It looked familiar. Then I remembered Stella’s sister, Grace, who had come to take Stella away shortly after Daddy died. Was she back to take her away, again?
    â€œFlorine, do you have more cream for the coffee?” Madeline called.
    â€œYes,” I called back, and I joined the people celebrating Sam’s life.
    Most people left within an hour, but the captains of the
Boden
and the
Celeste
, along with Bert, Bud, and Billy, sat in the side yard and drank up all the beer so we wouldn’t have to do it later.

    At midnight, my exhausted and half-drunk husband left our bed. Through half-raised lids, I watched him pull on his jeans.
    â€œYou going for a walk?” I said. “You all right? Want me to get up?”
    â€œNo. Go back to sleep. We’re going out to sea,” he said. “We won’t be long.”
    â€œDoes Ida know?” I whispered.
    â€œShe’s coming along,” Bud said. “Bert’s taking the family out.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œI figured you’d be better off here with the baby.”
    It made me grumpy that he had left me out, but I let that go, and when he bent down to me, I put my hands on either side of his face and gave him a long, deep kiss. He snuck downstairs and out the door. I drowsed and listened until I heard the
Maddie Dee
’s motor start up. Bert put her into gear and she chugged toward the ocean.
    â€œGoodbye, Sam,” I whispered, and I went back to sleep.

    Sometime later that night, I woke up. My breasts were full, but my baby hadn’t cried. Crap, I thought, I’ll have to wake her up. I settled back into the mattress for a sleepy minute. As I lay there, I heard a man singing. I got up and went into Arlee’s room. No baby. My heart thumped as I stood at the top of the stairs and took in the voice downstairs. It sounded like Bud, although I’d never heard him sing. I tiptoed down the stairs and through the house. As I moved closer to the porch, where he sat rocking, I caught the words to the tune he was singing to his daughter.
    â€œWho’s that knocking at my door?
    Who’s that knocking at my door?”
    Said the fair young maiden.
    â€œIt’s only me from over the sea,”
    Says Barnacle Bill the Sailor . . .
    â€œMy ass is tight, my temper’s raw,”
    Says Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
    â€œI’m so wound up I’m afraid to stop,
    I’m looking for meat or I’m going to pop,
    A rag, a bone with a cherry on top,”
    Says Barnacle Bill the sailor.
    I peeped over the rocker to see that Arlee was wide-eyed and awake, watching him. I put my hand on his left shoulder.
    â€œNice song,” I said.
    â€œIt’s my lullaby,” Bud said. “Sam used to sing it to me.” I settled in my rocker while Bud went through every verse of “Barnacle Bill the Sailor” before handing Arlee to me.
    â€œI think her hair is curlier, after that,” I said, lifting my T-shirt to feed her.
    He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

    The next morning I noticed that the car in Stella’s driveway