The New Shore, page 27
“Don’t,” Kenny said. “It’s not in bad shape at all. Nothing some TLC can’t fix. Art and I can help if we’re still here when you’re ready to do this.”
“I’ll leave you to your plotting,” Louisa said, spinning on her backside to swing her legs over the bench. “And you might want to go see if Art is okay. I may have upset him.”
She stood behind Roy and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good man, Roy Turner.”
Behind her, as she walked to the back porch, she heard the men mutter, “What was that about?”
Chapter 26
Kathleen and Michael were both surprised to receive a phone call from Christine’s brother, Archie, saying that he and the other sister, Diana, would be driving up from Charlotte.
“Well, this is turning into a little family reunion,” Michael said after inviting them to stay at the house.
Kathleen had already planned for Molly and Rebecca to stay with them, but Molly, naturally, would be sharing her room. “The inn will be full.”
She’d placed one more phone call, inviting Nadiya to the service.
“Thank you for asking,” Nadiya had said warmly. “I’m not sure I can get away from the gallery in the middle of a workday, but I’ll try.”
When Molly and Rebecca had arrived a couple days ago, Kathleen had rushed into Molly’s arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
The tightness of Molly’s embrace eased some of the heartache of the past couple of weeks.
“You okay?” Molly had asked.
Kathleen had nodded into her neck before pulling away. “Just going through all of Mom’s things. Bagging up her clothes and jewelry and stuff. It was harder than I thought it would be, but it’s done.” Casting a quick glance to make sure her dad was busy talking to Rebecca, she added, “If I hadn’t done it, he never would have. He’s been pretty useless with all this.”
“Relax,” Rebecca said Wednesday evening when Kathleen got up for about the twelfth time to look out the window toward the street. “Checking every ten minutes won’t make them get here any sooner.”
“I haven’t seen them since I was ten,” Kathleen reminded her. “What are they like?” She’d wanted to ask, “Are they like Mom?” but wasn’t sure how that would go over.
“I don’t know,” Michael had replied. “I haven’t seen them for more than twenty-five years, either.”
“Speaking of,” Kathleen said to him, “did you call your sister?”
“I tried,” he said. “The last number I had for her wasn’t good, and I couldn’t find a Moira Halloran online. She’s probably married now. I’m not even sure she’s still in California.”
When at last a Mercedes sedan pulled into the drive, Kathleen’s heart pounded as they all went out to greet the newcomers. My aunt and uncle, she thought. These people are supposedly family, but they’re strangers.
Her aunt, Diana Turnbull Holbrook, looked like a plumper, happier version of Christine. The same blue eyes, but hers are like periwinkle, not ice. Her uncle, Archie Turnbull was a surprise—completely bald with a substantial girth and a big smile on his face.
“Little Katie, my lawd,” he exclaimed when he saw her. “I ain’t seen you since you was this big!” He held a hand about waist-high and pulled her into a crushing hug. He gave Michael a similar hug, nearly lifting him off his feet.
“You look so like your daddy,” Diana said, giving Kathleen a gentler embrace.
Michael held an arm out toward Rebecca and Molly to make introductions.
Andy squinted his eyes as he studied Rebecca. “Didn’t we meet at Bryan’s funeral?”
“No.” Rebecca cast a quick glance in Michael’s direction. “No one from the island was able to make the trip.”
“That was diplomatic,” Molly whispered in Kathleen’s ear so that Kathleen had to fake a coughing spell to cover her snort.
Any nerves Kathleen had had about her aunt and uncle melted away with their kindness and their laughter.
“We hated that Christine withdrew so after Bryan’s passing,” Diana said, her delicate phrasing accentuated by her soft accent.
Apparently Archie thought she was too delicate. “Hell, we sent cards, we called, we tried to get her to open up, but she shut us all out.”
“I deeply regret that we didn’t get to say good-bye, however,” Diana added with a reproving glance in Michael’s direction.
It didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I tried to convince her we should call you all, let you know what was going on.”
“She didn’t even want Dad to tell me,” Kathleen said in his defense. “He did anyhow, and she did come to spend her last few months on Little Sister. I hope it did her some good to be back there.”
“Bless her heart,” Diana said.
Later that night, alone in their room, Molly said, “They were unexpected.”
“Tell me about it,” Kathleen agreed. “How is my mother related to them?” She caught herself. “Was.”
She took her glasses off and laid them on the dresser as she changed into pj’s. “I’m never going to sleep tonight.”
Molly crawled into bed and held up the covers. “Come here.”
Nestled in Molly’s arms, Kathleen took a deep breath.
“I’ve missed this, too.”
Next thing she knew, sunshine was peeking through the curtains and Molly was already up and gone. She hurriedly showered and dressed to find the others gathered around the table. Diana jumped up and went to the stove.
“Pancakes?”
“Sure, thanks.” Kathleen poured herself a cup of coffee and heard Archie trying to convince Michael he needed to come to North Carolina for a visit.
“Family is family,” he insisted. “Y’all need to come down and get reacquainted.”
They were still trying to talk him into it as they got into two cars to caravan to the funeral home and, from there, to the cemetery.
“Well, they’re certainly interesting,” Rebecca observed from behind the wheel of her car.
“You can say that again,” Kathleen said from the passenger seat.
If the ceremony on Little Sister had been uplifting, beautiful, healing, the experience at the funeral home was its opposite. Kathleen stood beside her father next to a small velvet-draped table that held the wooden box of ashes to greet those who attended.
They were almost all Michael’s friends, colleagues, golf club members. Christine didn’t seem to have had any friends of her own, Kathleen realized. No garden club or gym buddies or bridge friends—do people even play bridge anymore?—and it made Kathleen wonder what her mother had done with the last quarter century of her life.
Diana and Archie stood on her other side, shaking hands with people and accepting condolences as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
The one bright spot was when a warm hand clasped Kathleen’s and a familiar voice said, “I’m sorry, Kathleen.”
Kathleen whipped around to see Nadiya standing before her. “Oh, my gosh. You’re here!”
She flung her arms around her. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m glad I was able to get away for a few hours.” Nadiya kissed her on the cheek.
“Dad, this is Nadiya Monroe, an old friend of Rebecca’s.”
Kathleen stole a glance in Rebecca’s direction. Her eyes were wide, glued on Nadiya. Michael and Nadiya exchanged a few words, but Kathleen’s attention was caught by another woman standing at the back of the room. She was watching the reception line, but made no move to get in it. She met Kathleen’s eye and, for several seconds, they stared at each other before Michael introduced Kathleen to another golf friend of his. When she looked around again, the woman was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’d she go?” she muttered. She gestured Molly over. “Did you see her?”
“Who?” Molly searched the room.
“A woman, maybe a little younger than we are, really short reddish hair. She looked so familiar.”
“I don’t see anyone who looks like that now,” Molly said.
“Me either. Keep an eye out.” Kathleen couldn’t explain what it was about the woman that had unsettled her so, but whatever it was left her stomach in knots. She started to leave her dad’s side to go out to the lobby and look around, but just then, the funeral director asked everyone to take a seat.
Nadiya sat beside Molly in the row behind Kathleen and Michael along with Diana and Archie.
“I’d like to welcome everyone to this celebration of life,” the funeral director began in a solemn voice that didn’t sound very celebratory to Kathleen.
She found herself fighting the sudden urge to laugh.
“I want to introduce…” He consulted a card in his hand. “Reverend Rebecca Ahearn, a friend of the family.”
Rebecca seemed to be flustered. She shuffled a few pages of notes she’d prepared, and one of them fluttered to the floor. She quickly bent over to retrieve it, but knocked her shoulder into the lectern, nearly upsetting it.
Kathleen had to press a fist against her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Rebecca spoke a few brief words about Christine, and Kathleen realized how hard it must be to try and find something honest to say. A loving mother, nope. A beloved figure of the community, not so much.
“She struggled to find joy in life after her son died,” Rebecca was saying when Kathleen’s attention snapped back to the moment. “But spending her last months with her daughter hopefully brought her some of the peace that eluded her in prior years.”
When she finished, everyone was invited to be part of the procession to the cemetery, though most had said they had to get back—back to work, back to the golf course, back to their lives, Kathleen thought. And that is that.
Kathleen rode in the funeral home’s limousine with her dad and aunt and uncle. She whispered a prayer of thanks that it was a nice day. Funerals in the rain were so depressing.
They gathered at the graveside, the first time Kathleen had stood beside Bryan’s grave since the day he was buried. A small hole had been dug, awaiting Christine’s ashes. So they’ll be together for eternity, just the way she’d want, Kathleen thought in a detached kind of realization. She knew this was the last time she’d ever be here.
She felt something, as if someone had nudged her. She turned, and there was that woman. The one she’d seen at the funeral home. She was standing apart from the small crowd, under a tree where she could watch everything. Again, she met Kathleen’s gaze and gave a small nod.
Kathleen tried to signal Molly to point her out, but Rebecca and the funeral director called for everyone’s attention. Michael placed the box in the hole, and Rebecca tossed in a handful of earth she’d brought from the island.
“Christine, may you find the peace in the next realm that eluded you in this one.”
The funeral director frowned in confusion, but quickly stepped forward to thank everyone for coming. Apparently, the cemetery people would seal the hole and grass after they left.
Kathleen strode away from the small crowd, scanning the grounds, but the woman had disappeared.
“Who are you?”
Rebecca held a mug of tea, gazing out the window of Nadiya’s fourth-floor apartment. Not quite skyscraper-high, but still higher than anything on Little Sister, unless she climbed the wind turbines, which was not on her bucket list.
Down below, people hurried to and fro, probably on their way to work. Same as Nadiya would be in a few minutes.
Nadiya emerged from the one bedroom, clasping an earring in place. “I’m sorry I can’t spend the day with you.”
She was beautiful in a blouse of deep plum over forest green slacks and black boots. Just the sight of her made Rebecca’s breath hitch a little.
She smoothed her hand lightly over Nadiya’s soft silver curls. “You spent the night with me. I didn’t expect the day, too.”
Nadiya leaned in for a lingering kiss and pulled away with a moan. “Any more of that, and I won’t get to work.”
She went into the kitchen to gulp the last of her coffee. “I’m surprised you accepted my invitation, to tell the truth. I didn’t think your niece was going to let you out of her sight.”
Rebecca chuckled. “Molly can be… protective. And I admit, I was a little surprised myself to hear me say yes. But I want to see what your life here is like. You spent a month on Little Sister.”
“Plus.”
“True. You’ve been back since.” Rebecca frowned out the window. “I don’t know if I could survive a month here.” She whirled around. “Not that I’m inviting myself to be with you for a whole month.”
It was Nadiya’s turn to laugh. “Are you asking if we’re ready to move in together?”
“I don’t know,” Rebecca confessed. “I don’t know what we are or what we’re doing.”
Nadiya came to her and cupped her cheek. “We don’t have to answer that this morning. Wander around. Enjoy yourself.” She pointed to the table. “I wrote down the code to get into the building, and there’s a key to the apartment. I’ll see you this evening.”
She gave Rebecca one last kiss and left.
Back at the window, Rebecca watched for her, smiling when Nadiya glanced up and blew her another kiss.
Rebecca took her time getting showered and dressed. She had one more cup of tea with a piece of toast while she gazed out the window again. The sidewalks were less populated now that she figured most folks were at work, but there were still more people down there than she typically saw in a week on the island.
She picked up the scrap of paper with the code and tucked it and the key into her pocket. Outside, she stood for a moment, trying to decide which way to go. It occurred to her that she’d better memorize the street name and number, too, or she might not find her way back to this building.
She spent the day getting oriented to the area for several blocks around Nadiya’s apartment, taking in the locations of parks, museums, historical sites. Places she would make a point of visiting over the next—she stopped walking so abruptly, the person behind her almost ran into her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
The next what? How long are you thinking you’re going to be here? What are you doing?
She stood, listening to the din of city buses and cars, people hurrying past her, and couldn’t answer.
Unlike last summer, when the hotel had been their base, Art and Kenny spent most of every day at the house with them. Meredith listened to the teasing and the banter coming through the screens from the porch or the back yard as she spent hours up in the room she shared with Aidan, hard at work on her laptop, writing up lesson plans for all the grade levels she expected to be teaching.
“Don’t spend too much time working, girl.”
Meredith paused at the now-familiar voice. “I won’t, Miss Olivia.”
“Your uncle seems happier than he was last year.”
“I think he is,” Meredith agreed. “Part of it is probably that he’s had time to accept he was adopted, like Mom.” She smiled. “Part of it is Miss Louisa making him feel like a member of the family.”
“People were always drawn to Lou, like honey.” A throaty chuckle filled the air. “Not me. I was more vinegar. I liked my few.”
Meredith tilted her head. “Would you have liked us?”
“Wouldn’t be talking to you now if I didn’t.”
Meredith’s eyes welled. “That means a lot.”
They paused at a burst of laughter from the porch.
“Go on now. Work will always be there. Family won’t.”
Meredith closed her laptop and stretched as she stood. Out on the front porch, Jasper lay on his side, resting in the shade.
“Taking a break?” Louisa asked.
“Yes.” Meredith dropped down to sit cross-legged next to Jasper, gently rubbing his belly, which earned a tail thump. “Sounded as if you guys were having too much fun out here. Thought I’d better supervise.”
“Good idea.” Kenny grinned. “We are likely to get in trouble.”
“Want me to make you an iced tea, honey?” Irene asked, holding up her glass.
“Something tells me that’s an adult beverage.”
“You betcha,” Art said.
“I’ll do it.” Roy pushed up from his chair but immediately reached for a pillar to steady himself.
“Roy, are you okay?” Irene asked, half-rising.
He waved her back down. “Got up too fast. Dizzy.” He straightened. “I’m fine, but I think my next glass will be plain tea.”
He went into the house, and Meredith shifted to lean against a pillar with her legs stretched out, her fingers buried in Jasper’s thick fur, scratching deep into his ruff where he liked it. “Feel good, old man?”
A crash of glass from inside made them all jump up. They raced into the kitchen to find Roy vomiting into the trash bin, a glass shattered on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped when he could speak. “Suddenly felt sick.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Art said as Kenny bent to pick up shards.
Roy mopped at his face with a kitchen towel. “Must have eaten something that disagreed with me.”
“You don’t look good, honey.” Irene laid a hand on his forehead. “No fever, but your color isn’t good. You need to lie down.”
He needs to get to a doctor now. He’s having a heart attack.
Louisa’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her throat at the same time that the words echoed in Meredith’s head.
I’m the only one here who’s had one. I’m telling you.
“Dad,” Meredith’s voice shook, “I think you might be having a heart attack.”
“What?” Irene’s head snapped around. “Why would you—”
Thinking quickly, Meredith put the pieces together. “You’ve been rubbing at your shoulder and chest for days, thought it was the painting. Now, getting sick, your pasty complexion. This is a heart attack.”
“Where the hell are you going to take him?” Art demanded. “There’s no hospital on this goddamned island.”
“Big Sister,” Louisa said. She reached for the phone. “I’ll call Joe. You get what you’ll need. Hurry.”
