Excerpt from "So Happy Together" by Maryann McFadden

It was the light that first captured her.

It was said the light on Cape Cod could be seen only in a few other places in the world. Venice, perhaps; the Greek Islands. Some called it a magical radiance, others a pure, mystical glow that emanated from sea and sand. One thing was certain, the light on Cape Cod had been luring artists for more than a hundred years.

More than anything, Claire Noble wanted to see the famous Cape Cod light. Sitting in her eighth period Honors History class, she stared at the brochure and application for the Cape Cod Arts Center while her students completed their final exams. She reread the workshop description, glancing up every few moments to check for straying eyes, carefully hidden cheat sheets. Only ten would be chosen to participate in the photography workshop. They would study with one of the best photographers in the country. In a place that could transform an idea; where one’s vision might transcend the ordinary.

She was disappointed there were no photos on the brochure. She wondered if it was a lack of funds, or if they chose to leave the light to the reader’s imagination.

Nearly every quote on the brochure was about the light: “legendary,” “alive,” a “supernal glow.” Claire grabbed her dictionary, wondering if supernal was a typo. No, it had to do with the heavens, she read, therefore a “heavenly glow.” What more could she ask for?

And then, a few paragraphs down she read: “This curling finger of sand jutting into the sea at the tip of Cape Cod has beckoned artists and writers for over a century.” Followed by a quote from Thoreau: A man may stand there and put all America behind him. And she felt like everything she once wanted was finally there before her. She simply had to reach out and grab for it.

She stared out the classroom windows. Sloped green fields surrounded the high school, and a ring of blazing pink azaleas lined the parking lot. With all the windows open, the drone of honeybees seemed to fill the warm air. Already she saw students slipping out to their cars, intent on enjoying the glorious day.

Claire felt it, too, as she did each June. The end of the term. The seductive weather. Maybe it was being surrounded by teenagers each day, the contagion of raging hormones. Or perhaps it was the thought of not being touched in more years than she could count. A longing she hadn’t feel in months suddenly ignited again like sap running through her body after a hard winter. As always, her thoughts turned to Liam.

She heard the scrape of a chair and looked up. Daniel Stout brought his test up and laid it on her desk. She gave him a smile and turned the brochure over to the blank application page.

She’d first read about the Cape Cod light in an art history class she’d taken at the local college, just after Amy left home. Devastated, she knew she had to keep busy or she’d lose her mind with worry. Then when her daughter still hadn’t come back, Claire had moved on to a photography course. Suddenly, it was as if she’d found herself again, after all these years.

She was tired of teaching. Twenty years of trying to coax lazy or apathetic students into a love of learning had exhausted her. But every once in a while there was a student or two who felt the excitement of history, the relevance of the past. Those were the students she couldn’t cheat. The last thing she wanted was to be dead wood in the classroom. Those students deserved better. And the apathetic ones deserved someone who was still willing to give them a fighting chance.

Sometimes she felt alone in this belief. Her teaching friends were hardly secretive about riding out their last 5 or 10 years to catch the brass ring of their profession: an early pension at 50 or 55. It was what had lured them into teaching fresh out of college. That and the safety net of tenure. A life of security.

Not Claire. Maybe security had lured her in the beginning, when she didn’t really have a choice. But she wasn’t going to coast through her last years, no matter how crazy people might think she was to walk away from a pension that was just a little over ten years off. Besides, although she loved history, teaching hadn’t been her original goal. She’d had bigger ideas in college, bolder dreams. But then again, little in her life had turned out as she thought it would back then.

Looking at the application, anticipation hummed within her like an electric current she could barely contain. She was wired, a term her students used when they were so excited they felt like they were jumping out of their skin.

She picked up her pen and began filling out the application as one student after another lay their completed tests on her desk. She would have most of the summer to compile a portfolio of photographs. The chances she’d be chosen were slim, she knew, but she would give it her best shot. Because after a twenty-five year detour, Claire Noble was ready to go after one of her dreams again.