House on the Harbor

by Elizabeth Bromke

  “It was a hard thing,” Matt agreed at last. “Your dad went easy on me though. I remember coming here” he lifted his chin up to the house. “I knocked. I was so nervous about what he’d say. If he’d punch me in the face or what. But he wasn’t even home. I ran into him at the hardware store a day later and he shook my hand and apologized. He apologized, Kate.”

  “Why?” she asked, her face crumpling at the memory Matt offered. The memory someone had of her father. The father who left them in the midst of their tragedy, never to be heard from again. His whole existence and disappearance shrouded in some horrid small-town mystery.

  “I’m not sure. He just said he felt bad about how things were unfolding. He said he knew what I was going through. But you know what else he said?”

  “What?” she whispered, a breeze brushing her hair across her face.

  “He told me not to give up.”

  A sob escaped Kate’s mouth and her shoulders rounded in. He caught her and pulled her into him, holding her tightly in place. Keeping her together.

  She felt Matt’s lips press against her head, and she took him in and everything he said. That her father was rooting for them. That her father was the sort of guy who would have loved Kate no matter what happened. That whatever happened to Wendell Acton was not a reflection of Kate’s pregnancy or Clara’s birth.

  And, she realized that Matt made good on his word.

  He hadn’t given up, and he never would.

  “I’m going to stay, too,” she murmured into his neck.

  Matt gently pushed her away, searching her face earnestly. “In Birch Harbor?” he asked.

  Fresh tears dried along her cheeks as she nodded. “Yes. Somewhere here. In Birch Harbor. Near Clara. Near you.”

  Chapter 38—Clara

  After coffee, Amelia, Megan and Clara walked down the road to meet Kate at the house. Wednesdays were late starts for teaching planning and meetings, but Clara had nothing scheduled, and so it was her prerogative to spend the morning tending to her family business.

  Kate had texted that she was meeting Matt. Their reunion felt odd to Clara, but she was glad they might come to some sort of resolution. Closure, maybe.

  Then again, closure wasn’t exactly the result when someone broke open a long-held secret. In fact, quite the opposite. Now that Clara knew what she knew, they all needed a fresh start. A place to begin again, rather than a place to end.

  A safe place.

  Itching to get out of the apartment and away from her sisters, Clara nearly asked to spend the morning alone. But that wouldn’t do. She was torn between needing privacy and support. Mostly, she wanted answers. Always the planner, Clara needed to know what would happen next.

  They walked in silence. Amelia and Megan offered their respect by withholding their casual observations and general flightiness.

  Once to the house, Clara’s stomach churned in unrest.

  She glanced around, attempting to locate evidence that Kate and Matt had engaged in some sort of indecency there. It was all she could picture: the woman formerly known as her sister with the man formerly known as a stranger. But once the trio passed through the gate and headed toward the house, Kate appeared in its doorway, alone, her face awash in morning light.

  “Let’s grab breakfast. I think we’ll handle this better with a healthy dose of carbs by the dock. Sound good?” Kate was all but beaming. It was hard not to catch her happiness, even in light of the hard days behind them.

  Amelia and Megan looked at Clara, clearly deferring to her judgment. She grinned back. “Sounds great.”

  ***

  “Do we need the lawyer here?” Amelia asked, lifting an eyebrow at the others as they sipped on fresh brewed coffee from the deli while awaiting their toasted bagels.

  Clara looked at Kate for the answer. The latter lifted her shoulders. “I think we need to decide who wants what, first. Then, we can take that to Michael and contest the estate. Or, if we can all agree on something else, then maybe... oh, jeez. I really don’t know.”

  Clara was hoping to save time where she could in order to make it to first period on time. “I printed these out,” she said, passing around a neat page that listed each property, the items indicated by the will, and other significant mementos she’d like to address.

  The others took a minute to study her handout.

  Finally, Megan lifted her head. “The biggest thing is the house on the harbor. It’s not in the will, so it should be liquidated and split among the three of us, technically. But if we contest, we split the proceeds among all four. We can still contest, right, Kate? On the grounds that we were under the belief that Clara was adopted?” Megan didn’t mince words, and Clara found herself to be glad of that.

  Kate nodded. “From what I read online, we can contest and might have a case. The diary entry would be proof, and Michael himself was witness to it. Plus, Matt can testify—is that the right word? Well, he can testify that he signed off on some document about giving up parental rights just like I did. We didn’t know she never took those documents anywhere. We didn’t know that she shredded them up, or whatever. We were just kids.”

  “Right,” Amelia replied, taking a deep breath.

  The bagels arrived, but each woman set hers aside in favor of the business at hand.

  “So, do we sell the house on the harbor?” Megan asked again, this time eyeing each sister in turn.

  Amelia shrugged.

  Clara swallowed.

  Kate answered, “No. I don’t think so. I know it needs some work, but there’s too much history there. We have to keep it.”

  “Who’s going to take care of it?” Megan asked.

  Kate lifted a hand. “I will. I’ll take care of it.”

  “You don’t live here, Kate,” Amelia reasoned. “It’ll just fall to Clara again.”

  A thin line formed on Clara’s mouth. “I’m sorry,” she interjected defensively.

  “No, no,” Amelia replied. “I don’t mean to say you can’t handle it. I mean it’s not fair that we always default to you. It’s time you get your way a little here, girl. We all agree that you’ve been Mom’s punching bag for way too long. Don’t you see that, too?”

  Warmth flooded Clara’s chest, and she nodded. “Yes. Actually, yes. I think I’d like to have my way.” A small laugh followed, and Kate reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Okay then. So, Kate. If you don’t live here, we need to seriously consider another option. I mean if I were to move back to Birch Harbor—which I’m not—I wouldn’t want it. It’s huge and so not me.”

  “You’re thinking about moving back here, aren’t you?” Megan deadpanned.

  Amelia seemed to hem and haw, finally throwing her hands up. “I don’t know! Maybe. But even if I do. I won’t live there. Too creepy.” She looked past them towards the house on the harbor.

  “Megan,” Clara said, “you like creepy stuff. Do you want the house?”

  Megan shook her head. “No. I want to downsize, if anything. You know, simplify. Streamline. All that.”

  “Then?” Clara replied, looking at Kate, finally.

  “I’ll take it.” Kate said at last. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll move here, and I’ll take care of it.”

  The three others glanced at each other.

  Megan spoke first. “But how do we split it evenly, then?”

  Kate cleared her throat, an answer already appearing to form on her tongue. Clara leaned forward.

  “Mom left one property for each of the three of us, right? The Bungalows, the farmland, and the cottage. And now, we have the house on the harbor to split. I think each of us gets one property. The house is easily the most valuable. We can discuss ways for me to pay each of you out. The Bungalows brings in income, though. The farmland, of course, is undeveloped. We might have to get creative, but a starting point is to assign a property to each one of us.”

  A silence filled the table. Clara looked down, furrowing her eyebrows nervously as she pic
ked the skin around her nails. She wasn’t included in the will. She was at their mercy.

  “I think Clara picks first,” Megan said at last.

  The other three whipped their heads to Megan.

  Amelia nodded slowly, her eyes lighting up. “Clara has had the short end of the stick all of her life. She had to deal with Mom alone the longest. And she has had to deal with the trauma of being left out. I agree. Clara picks first.”

  Clara’s heart pounded against her chest wall. Her cheeks felt warm. She began bobbing her knee up and down beneath the table as she looked at Kate.

  Kate smiled. “That works for me. Clara, what do you want?”

  After a beat, Clara answered, “I’d like to have the cottage, if that’s okay?”

  She glanced around. Something passed between Amelia and Megan, something unreadable.

  Kate cleared her throat. “I’m fine with that. What about you two?”

  Amelia licked her lips. Megan looked away then back.

  “I’ll take the land, then,” Amelia replied, furrowing her brow.

  “What are you going to do with farmland?” Megan asked, scoffing.

  “What is any one of us going to do with anything? That’s the real question,” Kate piped in.

  Amelia answered, “Are you getting the house or is Brian? I feel like that’s relevant here.”

  Megan winced and took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t technically need a place to live. Brian said I can have the house if I want it. Either that or we sell and split the profits. Kind of like in this scenario.”

  Clara cringed. It was starting to feel like life was a series of transactions. Negotiations. Agreements where two or more people split a candy bar in half down the middle. But when they got to see their half, it was less than they wanted to begin with. So, no one really got their way.

  “Sorry, Megan,” Clara whispered. “I bet that’s hard.”

  Megan shrugged. “Yeah. It is. I’m not sure what to do. Either way, you can have the cottage, Clara. You deserve it.” Megan reached across the table and covered Clara’s hand in hers.

  Kate broke in. “What about The Bungalows? Megan, would you want them? Then you have a place to stay, you know, if you need one?”

  Megan shook her head. “I’m not a fix-it-upper type. I’m more like Clara that way.” She winked at Clara, who was starting to wonder if her “sisters” weren’t as distant as she’d always known them to be. Were they acting more like aunts? Had they always acted like aunts? Clara shook the thought, instead focusing on what she knew to be true: they were sisters. Always had been. Always would be.

  “How about you, Amelia? You might be good at being a landlady,” Kate suggested.

  Amelia flashed a smile. “I’ve got Lady Macbeth,” she replied, lifting her palms and her shoulders in a flourish.

  “Do you?” Megan asked.

  “Well, I certainly hope so. And if I don’t, then... ”

  “Then what?” This time it was Clara who pressed. Clara looked up to Amelia, often enamored of and amazed by her flawless people skills. Her aptitude with audiences and her boisterous, pleasant demeanor at any hour of the day or night.

  Amelia considered Clara’s question, pressing a finger to her lips and thinking. “If I don’t get the role, then I don’t know what I’ll do. But it won’t be living in a four-plex, patching drywall and planting flowers. That’s not me,” she answered at last.

  “Okay,” Kate reasoned. “No one has to live there I guess... ”

  “Wait a minute,” Amelia interjected, her eyes lighting up. The others looked at her with hesitant interest. “I... if it comes down to who is getting what, well then... I might like to have a place to stay when I come here, you know?”

  “So you want to have a unit available for you as a, what? Vacation rental?” Megan asked, throwing a sidelong glance at Amelia.

  Amelia started to protest but Kate shushed her, waving her hand over the food. “Wait a second, wait a second. That’s a great idea. We should all have a place to stay when we visit. Or, I guess when you visit, since it seems Clara and I will be locals.” She lifted one corner of her mouth conspiratorially at Clara, who was a little lost. Clara was content to host any of her sisters wherever she lived. Why add a complication?

  Kate continued. “We have enough property to offer something more. We could become a business in town. We could have space for Amelia and Megan, and Ben and Will, and Sarah... even Jimmy if we ever decide to let him come back,” she added as a joke.

  But the others didn’t laugh. Their eyes widened at the prospect. A Hannigan sister enterprise. Clara could see the idea percolating in their eyes. Still, Clara didn’t want any part of it, really.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t think I’d make much of a hostess,” she offered lamely.

  “You’ve got the cottage. You can just stick to that. But what if... what if Amelia, you take The Bungalows. It can pay for you to keep—to keep doing whatever it is you’re doing in New York. I can help manage it here, and you can come to town when you’re free to work on more major issues. It’d be a great project for you,” Kate added in a sing-song voice.

  Megan and Kate exchanged a knowing look, and Clara had the distinct feeling they were in cahoots on something, though what, she did not know.

  Amelia frowned and chewed on a nail before replying. “How about this, if I don’t get Lady Macbeth, then I’ll take The Bungalows. It can be my consolation prize. I’ll get to quit The Bread Basket, maybe. It could work,” she said, a wry smile crossing her face.

  “And Megan, what about you?” Clara offered, worried that things weren’t turning out as fair.

  “I’ll take the land. Worst case scenario, I can sell it for a little profit. But it sounds like Brian is going to be more flexible than I first thought.”

  “Well,” Kate jumped in. “I have an idea that will help all of us moneywise. Separate from The Bungalows’ rental income.”

  “Okay?” Clara asked, feeling outside of their plan still.

  “The house on the harbor. We can open a bed and breakfast. I’ll run it. I’ll keep a room open for whenever you two come to town—or anyone else we want to put up.”

  “Are you sure?” Megan asked.

  Amelia echoed the sentiment. “That’s a lot to offer, Kate. Is this all as fair and square as we’d like?”

  “Clara gets the cottage and is relieved of her property management duties. I get the house and turn it into an... an inn! And share profits. They won’t be much, so don’t get too excited. The Bungalows, that’s the only piece of the puzzle that’s missing. It’s a lot of work for me to take that on without getting paid... ”

  Clara let out a sigh. Nothing felt manageable—or fair, she realized. She needed to step up and help. “I don’t need the cottage yet. I can stay at The Bungalows for as long as it takes to settle this,” she offered helpfully.

  Amelia smiled at her, but her face quickly fell into a frown.

  “What’s wrong?” Clara asked.

  Setting her bagel down, she tugged her phone free from her purse. “My phone is buzzing. If it’s Jimmy, I swear I’m going—” She stopped abruptly, her frown deepening as she studied the caller ID.

  Clara stared on, but Kate rustled next to her, digging her phone out, too. Kate whispered to Clara, “Oh crap, look. I missed a call from Michael.”

  After briefly glancing at Kate’s phone, Clara turned her attention to Amelia, who was now talking to someone in hushed, serious tones.

  A moment later she hung up, her eyes flashing across the table. “It was the lawyer. Michael. He tried to call you, Kate,” she fumbled a little, nervous for some reason.

  “I know. I missed it. What did he say?” Kate pressed.

  “He says there’s something he needs to discuss with us. There’s been a... an oversight.”

  Chapter 39—Kate

  “I’m terribly sorry. Terribly sorry. I don’t know how this slipped by.” Sharon stood in Michael’s office, wringing her ha
nds safely behind the protection of her receptionist’s desk.

  Michael, with his hands shoved in his pockets, faced the four of them in the waiting area.

  “It’s nothing legal. Nothing that can formally alter the conditions of the will like a contesting of the will,” Michael warned them, his voice even. “I expect you’ll still contest on Clara’s behalf, correct?”

  Kate waved a hand. “Yes, but... well, there’s been an oversight there, too,” she admitted, glancing at her sisters.

  He cocked his head. “How so?”

  Wondering if she should start or if she should press him to reveal his news, she looked to the others for help.

  Amelia cleared her throat. “You go first, Michael.”

  He reached toward Sharon who fussed herself nearly into a fit, grabbing a generic yellow legal envelope. “Here. I just can’t imagine the confusion you’ve suffered,” she whined, her attention squarely on Clara.

  Michael accepted the envelope and reached his hand inside. “You see, your mother left four notes, not just one.” He winced a little as he said it and read over each page. “Won’t you come back?”

  Anxious now, and even excited, Kate motioned her sisters, and they followed Michael to his office, where just a couple days ago they’d first met as one big group. So much had seemed to happen in the interim. Stress and strife. Anxiety and the depths of pain and confusion.

  And there was always the answer, there in the darn lawyer’s office.

  Then again, Kate felt certain that nothing they were about to see would rival the news from her own note.

  “Honestly,” Michael began, smoothing his tie as he lowered into his seat. “What happened was that Nora had left that yellow envelope with Sharon about a year ago. Apparently, your mother told Sharon to add the contents to her will without reading what was inside. You see,” Michael shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

  Kate felt her hands gripping the arms of the chair unnecessarily. It was just paper. Just a note. Surely, there would be nothing else to say?

  “You see,” Michael repeated, fixing his stare on the envelope in his hand. “Sharon had removed just the one page—the one I gave you, Kate,” he flicked a glance to Kate. “Since your mom never saw me or asked to open her estate and formally publish a revision, I figured it was a personal note that could be read by you,” he looked at her again before his gaze wandered to the others.