Kermit actually got a tan in the next few weeks, sailing and swimming and shell hunting with the kids. Sarah was as good as her word, and produced a small sailboat which she handled with the ease of many years, teaching Jason and Mitch the basics of sailing a small boat. The trio fished in forgotten coves, and explored hidden beaches with a rented metal detector, looking for real pirates treasure. "Mom" Mitch explained with huge eyes. "There were real pirates in this part of Connecticut. I'll bet there is all kinds of treasure waiting for us to find it!"

The Sunday dinner together became a regular event, sometimes at Marilyn's house and sometimes at Sarah's. The two women, vastly different in background and age, shared a love of peaceful evenings by the water and would sit in companionable silence for hours. Kermit, on the other hand, used this time to add up the anomalies he kept running into with Sarah. Even on vacation, and especially around his family, two and two had to make four, and occasionally their charming neighbor came up as a five. Little things, like her not having a telephone, and no relatives in the area. The area she supposedly grew up in. He found it relatively easy to hack into the local utilities and records departments using his laptop, and discovered that the lights and water were being paid by a Mrs. Jean Paget of Ithaca, NY. She was also listed by the deeds office as the owner of the house...so who was Sarah?

Kermit was sticking closer to his family on outings with their neighbor, which made him feel more at ease, but gave him less time to investigate her. He didn't want to share his suspicions with Marilyn, who liked Sarah and trusted her literally with her children's lives. "The problem is, I like her myself." Kermit admitted one night, sitting out on the back deck, cold beer in hand. He could hear Sarah and the kids playing some game down on the beach, Marilyn's laughter in counterpoint to their competitive yelling. In spending more time with her, he had come across more anomalies, and grown to enjoy her company at the same time.

Sarah never seemed hurried, as she accomplished a huge amount of work each day, weeding and pruning and harvesting in her vegetable and flower gardens. She searched out driftwood on the beach for both houses, creating fires that burned blue and green and violet, all the mysterious colours of the sea. She baked for her household and for bake sales at church, sewed and mended a ton of clothing for the Goodwill store, took Jason and Mitch on the summer of their lives, crabbing and berrying and even digging for clams on a neighbor's carefully tended and monitored flats. She was a proverbial good neighbor, so why was he so suspicious of her? Squashing down the argument inside him, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

If Jean Paget was surprised to receive a phone call from a police detective, she hid it well. Her cheerful voice sounded like Sarah's which surprised him until she explained, "Cousin Sarah? Of course I know she's in the Cove house, Detective Griffin. She's doing us a favour, house sitting this summer. Is there something wrong? Is she all right?"

Concern dimmed the bright voice and Kermit hastened to assure her that her guest was fine. "Your cousin, you said? You two grew up together?"

"Oh, no, but I was quite close to my aunt Sarah. She was a beautiful woman, she never really seemed to grow old, except for the way her hair silvered as I grew up. She taught me how to fish and build a good hot outdoor fire, to sew and even to sail a small boat. I loved her dearly, all the neighborhood children did." Jean sighed wistfully, "When we got older, she left the old house for parts unknown, and eventually the deed came to me. This summer, we had decided not to go to Connecticut all all, my husband is very involved at his job right now, my oldest is graduating high school and my daughter is turning sixteen and wants a huge party, you know how that is. Anyway, I received this beautiful letter from my cousin Sarah saying that she is getting married and must give up her apartment, doesn't want to sign into a new lease for just a few months, and would it be an imposition to rent her the two rooms down at the boathouse? Well, Detective, I was just going crazy with worry about leaving the house empty during the summer, or having those groups of summer renters who might destroy the place or annoy the neighbors,( we have such a good relationship in our little community), I just called Sarah right up and she sounded so much like Aunt Sarah, very warm and wise and sensible, that I asked her to stay at Cove house and I would pay the utilities. A woman alone doesn't use much, and ", in a confidential tone, "my Edward is VERY comfortable. So, as I'm sure you see, it worked out lovely for all concerned, and why are you concerned, Detective? "

Head spinning from the concentrated overload of information, Kermit mumbled something about a routine background check, clicked off the phone and took a long pull of his beer. Staring out at the violet tinged ocean, he sorted the pieces in his mind. Trying to fit the puzzle together. The fog had come in thick and white as he walked, but Kermit, intent on his own thoughts, didn't notice.

The quiet slap of the waves and the feel of the sand under his feet kept him more or less on a straight path down the midnight beach. As the mist stole visibility, it wrapped the area in a timelessness, and a calm that even Kermit felt, until... A dark form materialized before him and he hit it hard in the swirling white and darkness, falling heavily to the sand in a tangle of limbs. A delicate touch on his face, his shades, and Sarah's delighted laugh rang out as she worked free of his body and they helped each other to their feet. He could see her face now, close to his, still laughing uncontrollably, mist leaving fine beads of water on the loose strands of hair hanging in her eyes.

She tried to catch her breath, bending over with a great whoop and finally stopped, looking back up at him with a grin. "You didn't find that the least bit amusing?" she asked and chuckled again.

He laughed then too, more at her amusement and the look on her face than any real mirth on his part. "Running into strange people in the dark isn't my idea of fun," he explained and she giggled, putting a quick hand on his arm in apology.

"I suppose not, and the children did tell me I shouldn't sneak up on you if it could be helped. But the idea of the two of us, both skulking the beach after midnight, in this pea soup fog, and managing to hit each other head on?? I couldn't help myself, Kermit, it's too comical!" and she was off again. He waited patiently until the laughing fit passed and offered her his arm "to avoid further close encounters" as they walked. She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they walked down the beach, now silent, then speaking quietly.

It was a night outside of time, with no place for fear, and Kermit had almost forgotten his suspicions when a question occurred to him. "Sarah, what do you do?" he asked and she stopped walking and turned to him.

"Do?" she asked, puzzled. "I cook, sew, fish and sail, go to church, keep the gardens and house. I do a lot, you know that Kermit."

He shook his head, tiny droplets flying off into the mist. "No, I mean when you're not here at the house, what was your job?"

"Oh, I see what you mean. Before I came out here to wait for Jack, I was a teacher. That may be why I enjoy having Jason and Mitch around so much, it seems odd not to have children in my life, and to be showing them things they can use later in life."

"But you gave it up? Won't you teach after your marriage?"

"I planned on having my own children to be teaching after I married Jack, so I gave up my position and concentrated on the wedding."

She sighed and Kermit grasped at something she had said. "Planned? What has changed your mind, after all, you're not married yet." Every sense was alert, but her answer to him seemed genuine and carelessly honest.

"Oh, I've stopped thinking about anything but seeing him again now. Even getting married.. it seems so long since we've been together, there are nights when I would give anything to hear his voice and feel his arms around me." she stopped speaking suddenly, wondering if a blush could possibly be heard, then pressed ahead with her own question. "Have you ever loved like that, Kermit? Where you knew, no matter what, you would someday be together for an eternity?"

He thought, involuntarily, of Jewel, then shook his head, feeling a bit guilty. "There's someone that I care about, but it's too soon to know if anything could come of it. As for forever, I don't think I believe in the concept, Sarah."

She heard the sadness deep under his matter of fact tone and let it going, squeezing the arm she still held and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "It's real, my dear, practical friend, and you don't have to believe in it for it to believe in you." then, in a lighter tone, "Can you make your way back to the house safely? The fog is lifting and we're both soaked. Dry clothes and a warm bed, Kermit, to prevent a nasty summer chill. Goodnight." and she was gone.

Kermit could see the beach faintly and the light Marilyn had left on the deck for him. Shivering slightly, for reasons that had nothing to do with the wet, he headed for the house, with more questions than before.

*****

The days were as warm as ever, but the nights had begun to have a bit of a chill, enough for open windows and summer blankets instead of an air conditioner. Many of the families that summered at Captain's Cove were leaving and Sarah organized one big beach party, with a clambake, volleyball, the whole nine yards, to see them off. With so many people leaving, the few neighbors left drew together, sitting in closer company as they baked in the summer sunshine each day. Marilyn and her children had continued going to church in the village and the companionship they found there led to potluck suppers, afternoon picnics and a teen talent show with a pastry cook off before hand.

As Sarah remarked over Sunday dinner that week, "We're one of the eatin'est churches you'll find. I guess the Good News and good food just seem to go together." and she had laughed when Kermit peered over his shades to see if she was serious. She and the children had been out to their secret fishing hole when Marilyn saw them headed for the house at a tremendous rate. She ran down the beach path and met them at the dock, but the children were fine and Sarah greeted her with a smile. "Is everything all right?" she asked the woman as she tied up the boat, and Sarah nodded.

"Fine and dandy. I just am going to need to get this boat out of the water and it was getting late. We've got a big storm coming in and I don't want the "Bonnie Belle" to get knocked around too badly."

"A storm? I've been watching the weather, and there hasn't been a word about one, and definitely not one that could hurt the boat. Are you expecting a hurricane?"

"I reckon not a hurricane, but those boys on the TV aren't always right, especially about storms in old New England. Weather here can be a mite tricky and a bad blow can sneak up on you. You all have plenty of wood and candles if your power goes out? If not, I have some old oil lamps you're welcome to borrow. Just send Kermit around for them when he gets back from town, and I'd do any cooking you're planning on doing soon, Marilyn." Sarah took her friend's hand in her weather browned, callused ones. "The house has stood hundreds of storms worse than this one coming. Stay indoors, keep your family close at hand and dry, and you'll come through it all right. But stay indoors, no matter what, okay?"

Marilyn shrugged lightly, and placed her own hand over Sarah's, then squeezed lightly. "You're the expert, Miss Sarah." A flash of white grin and Sarah freed her hands, ruffling the shaggy manes of her two young friends.

"You be careful, and mind your momma. A Nor'Easter is no joke, and nothing to run around in, hear me?"

"Y'sm," Yes, Miss Sarah" they replied and she hugged them both.

"Good. You're a lot of fun to be around, you know that? I've had a good time today. Now, see you soon." and she was off, headed for her own house.

*****

Driving over the Gold Star Bridge, which arched high over the Thames River, Kermit had seen the dark clouds massing ahead of him. He piled on the speed, racing down I-95, and arrived back in Stonington just as the rain began to fall, in time to get the top back up on the Corvair. Marilyn met him outside and asked him to go next door for the oil lamps their neighbor had offered. "Sis, I've listened to the weather report, they aren't mentioning any of this. Do you really think its going to get that bad?" She gave him the look, the one that sent him on his way down the beach path without another word, the mother look. The sky was rapidly growing dark out over the water, and a funny dark too, full of yellows and a twisted purple green that looked like trouble to even his landlubber eyes. Sarah met him at the garden gate, where she had been harvesting the last of her summer vegetables.

"I wanted to get in all that I could, the plants probably won't last out the storm." He took the other handle of her bushel basket and they carried it to the house. There, she had a box ready with four hurricane lamps, and two bottles of scented oil. She quickly drilled him in filling and lighting them on one of her own lamps, nodding as he got it on the first try. She had also kept a big bowl of stew in a stoneware warming pot on the back of the stove, she put that and a basket of baking powder biscuits, wrapped in a towel, in another box.

"This will keep warm for hours, and there's nothing like a good hot stew when the winds pick up." A great sheet of rain sudden struck the house and the windows went dark. "We've got to hurry now, Kermit, it's coming on hard!!"

He helped her shrug into a patched yellow slicker, gratefully accepted the loan of a man sized one, and picked up the two boxes which she swathed in an oilcloth tarp. Sarah covered the bushel basket with another tarp and led the way out the door. The wind had come up fierce and tugged at any stray edges it could find. Kermit was glad of his shades, which kept the driven rain out of his eyes. Sarah led the way with no such protection, finding her path almost blind, never missing a step as she made their way to Marilyn's deck. They set their bundles down with a thump and she grinned at him. "You all keep dry, and stay inside!! No matter what, trust me and stay indoors during this!" she was almost shouting in the wind, and he shook his head.

"You stay here, Sarah!! It's too dangerous, you over there by yourself! We've got food and fire and company, why go back?" He was insistent, but she shook her head, then quickly hugged him.

"Can't, I've got things I need to take care of still!! I'll be fine, Kermit, I promise!! I'll be better than fine! Take care of your family, and hug the kids for me, okay?? Bye!!" Sarah grinned once more, rain pouring over her hood, and the wind blew her away down the narrow beach track.

In the crack and thunder of the night's passing, Kermit kept a careful eye on the outside, trying to see through the rain and gusts to Sarah's house. He did try to go after her when the power went, but the storm howled at him, driving him back into the warmth of his house with furious rage at his challenge. Once, only once, after midnight, straining his eyes through the sheeting rain, Kermit thought he saw....a ship? Faintly, moonlit luminescent, sailing in too shallow water as if becalmed, but when he looked again it was gone....

As suddenly as it had come up, the freak storm died down, leaving local meteorologists stunned. The sun came up bright over a windswept beach covered with driftwood, clumps of seaweed and many unusual shells dredged up by the violent tides just past. Jason and Mitch claimed those treasures when they ran out to explore this newly unfamiliar land. Kermit hadn't needed Marilyn's insistence to go over and check on their neighbor, but he managed to use it to keep her back at the house when he went, in case there was trouble elsewhere and people came looking for help. Sarah's neat garden was wind lashed and beaten into the muddy ground. He carefully made his way up the debris strewn walk and found the screen porch door open. There didn't appear to be any damage to the house, but the interior door stood open as well. Kermit drew his gun, knocked on the door and called Sarah by name, then burst inside. He was met with silence, a neat and bare kitchen, with sunshine pouring in through the leaf spattered windows. The kitchen table held a covered pie plate, the last wedge of Sarah's cheddar wheel, and a small woven workbox.

A folded sheet of paper with his name on it rested atop the box, setting the Desert Eagle aside, he reached for it and read:

"Dear Kermit, As you read this, I am gone. The storm raging around us will bring John Killian, whom friends and family always called Jack, to shore at last. Tonight, after two hundred years, we will be united in the Unknown Presence. Be happy for me, for us, our long wait is over and the Dawn of our life together has come. But you and yours have been my dear companions this last, precious summer, so I must answer the few questions I can for you. I am, of course, the first and only Sarah Tidewell. Forgive me the misdirections and half truths our friendship required. We all would not have been such chums if the truth had been known, and being with all of you was so very dear to me. In the box are a few items I cached away many years ago, my treasure hoard, Mitch would call it. Now, they are a token of the love I have for you all. Marilyn has my journal, enclosed she will find my cookery book as well. Both are a fine read and a piece of the history she enjoys so much. For Jason, the pocket watch that was to be a wedding gift to my Jacky, and for Mitch, the cameo brooch I wore to my first grown-up dance. In the blue velvet pouch, my dear, sensible, practical Kermit, is the troth ring I've worn all these years. I need it no more, the love it symbolized is here and real and all around me, to go with Jack and I into the Great Mystery. So keep it for your own forever love, my friend, and in token of paths that will not cross again. My thanks, and my love, to each of you. Sarah Elizabeth Tidewell"

Kermit sat in the empty house, listening for a laugh that he knew he would never hear, for a long time. Then he carried the food and box of gifts back to his sister's house, showed them Sarah's letter and spent the rest of the day, as the others did, in wondering.

Early the next morning, he was in the Corvair, burning up I-95, occasionally slipping a silver ring from a velvet pouch to admire the glitter of an aquamarine flanked by the shimmer soft gleam of pearls. "A ring from a sailor to a shore girl," he mused, the poetry of the man he hid from the world free for once, "A love as eternal as the ocean they lived beside."

He tucked it away for good as he hit New York, crossed the George Washington bridge into the city, and parked illegally in front of a certain building. He urged the elevator to hurry and knocked on a door he had never seen, to be greeted by, "Jewel."

"Kermit??" Confused, she nonetheless hugged him fiercely and pulled him into her brother's apartment. "What are you doing here? How was Connecticut?"

"Connecticut was...an experience" he told her, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket, knowing it was the one detail he couldn't share for now, knowing that Sarah, romantic though she had been, would understand. He pulled Jewel into his lap and cuddled her close, "and I came because I have a ghost story to tell you."

The End

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