by Olivia Miles
“Not at all,” Gemma said good-naturedly. “He called it off. Left me reeling, honestly. I was upset at the time. My whole life felt turned upside down. My future plans were gone. I had a book due to my editor and I couldn’t think straight. I was a mess.” She laughed. “But then I came here for a bit and I met Leo, and well, I couldn’t be happier.”
Heather and Kim both seemed to stare at Gemma for an extended period, soaking this in. Heather couldn’t help but relate this to her own life, how Gemma had come out of a major setback brighter and better, and she wondered idly if Kim was too. But that was nonsense. Kim was happily engaged. Gemma’s story probably only served to scare her a bit, not that a dose of reality wouldn’t be good for her younger sister.
“Living on the island full-time suits you then?” Heather had entertained it before, as a child, when she hated the thought of leaving at summer’s end, but as an adult, it hadn’t felt practical, or even worth thinking about. But now…
Well, now she was confused, not thinking clearly. She was, to use Gemma’s words, a mess.
“That and being with the right person.” Gemma grinned.
Kim’s brow pinched as she set to work uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring it into three glasses.
Heather raised hers. “Here’s to being together again on Evening Island.”
“Here’s to just us girls again!” Kim said—with quite a bit more enthusiasm than Heather was expecting.
Heather sipped her wine and realized that she hadn’t heard her sister mention Bran or the wedding very much since she’d gotten here, and she’d been noticeably dispassionate about setting up the registry at the shop, too.
But her sister was smiling and laughing now at some memory that Gemma was sharing, and Heather shrugged off her concern. Maybe the excitement of the wedding was simply fading—she had certainly exhausted the topic enough.
Heather tuned in to hear what she had missed.
“Do you remember the time that Billy challenged all of us to race our bikes down Cliffside Road?”
Did she! Heather rolled her eyes, even though her heart swelled at the thought of that day. She’d never been one to turn down anything Billy suggested—even some of his crazier ideas like who could hold their breath under water the longest, or who could swim out farthest from shore.
“It’s a wonder none of us ended up in the hospital that day!” Heather laughed.
“I’m sure he feels bad, now that he’s a doctor and all,” Kim said. “I had two skinned knees, and I still have the scars to prove it.”
Gemma swatted Kim’s arm. “Please! He doesn’t feel bad! No one broke anything. Besides, we were just kids then.”
Just kids. Something about the way Gemma said it made Heather wonder just how many of her fond memories with Billy could be lumped together with “kid stuff.”
Most of it, she knew. But it connected them all the same. They’d grown up together, year after year, they were bonded by their relationships and this love for the island, spending the sweetest and longest days of their youth running free, without a care in the world. These were the people who knew her hopes and wishes. Who knew her heart.
“Should we go outside?” Heather asked. It was stuffy in the house even with the windows cracked and the ceiling fans going strong. She longed for the evening breeze that would soon come. Knowing there would be a consensus, she didn’t wait to lead the way. Andrea was coming down the stairs when they reached the front hall. “Were you upstairs all this time?” Heather looked at her in surprise.
“I was in the attic,” Andrea explained. “Just rummaging through some old stuff. If I’d known we had company I would have come down sooner.”
Heather felt her feelings toward her older sister shift. Andrea used to love exploring this old house as a kid. Even on the sunny days where Kim would bolt to the beach before ten in the morning, Andrea sometimes preferred to hang back. When they’d return at the end of the day, tired and hungry, Andrea would show them things she discovered: an old album with photos of the island from a time gone by, a ferry ticket stub that had a little love note scrawled on the back from their grandfather to their grandmother, fabric from the original curtains that Heather had happily transformed to fit the windows in their playhouse in the yard.
Gemma held her arms wide, and Andrea—usually a cold fish, that one—reached in. Heather couldn’t help but feel slighted, and noting the frown that pulled at Kim’s brow, she could only assume that her other sister felt the same way.
It perhaps wasn’t fair of them. Andrea was the oldest, but that didn’t automatically mean she would fill their mother’s shoes. She wasn’t maternal like that.
No, that was Heather’s territory.
She swallowed back her wine, even though it didn’t go down easily, and forced a bright smile that she no longer felt. “Gemma’s staying for dinner. I thought we’d have fish tonight with a side of roasted vegetables.”
“Oh, Heather.” Andrea chuckled. “You’re such a homemaker.”
She didn’t say it like an insult, and Heather didn’t take it as one, but she also knew that she couldn’t accept it as a compliment either, because it was no longer true. She had a house, but it wasn’t a home.
“Not everyone can survive on energy bars and take-out,” Kim said, giving Heather a little wink.
Heather grinned, but her smile felt secret. She was one step away from doing just that, only unlike with Andrea, the thought depressed her. She missed having someone to cook for, someone to think about and care about throughout her day. And other than the holidays, she hadn’t sat down to a meal with her family—or anyone—in so long that she now couldn’t bear the thought of more lonely nights in front of the television with a bowl of pasta for one.
“Not everyone has time to sit down and eat a meal, much less cook,” Andrea replied.
This time, Kim and Heather exchanged a subtle eye roll as they all sat down on the porch.
“Heather manages to do both,” Kim said, again rising to her defense.
Heather said nothing. Revealing now that she’d lost her job would only ruin their time with Gemma.
“Well, Heather enjoys domestic responsibilities more than I do,” Andrea said. She shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re an excellent cook. I’ve always enjoyed your food.”
“You guys must get together a lot, all being in Chicago,” Gemma remarked.
There was an awkward silence that Heather felt obligated to fill. “Oh, well, Andrea’s busy with client dinners a lot, and I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Kim is getting married next month!”
Kim’s cheeks flushed. “I should have invited you. My future mother-in-law took over that task, and it’s hosted at her house, and… You should come. I want you there. I want everyone from the island there.”
Heather wondered just how Lynette would feel about a sudden change in the guest list, but she had the sense that this wasn’t the only thing that Kim was nervous about right now. Her face was pink and she was twisting her engagement ring. Maybe it was guilt that she hadn’t invited Gemma. Sure, it was a little awkward, but Gemma would understand.
Across the coffee table, Andrea lifted an eyebrow in question at Heather. Heather dismissed the concern with a wave of the hand. Kim had never been a very organized person and all the little details of a wedding were difficult for anyone—though probably not Andrea. If she ever got married, she’d probably have a binder with color-coordinated tabs for everything.
But then, Heather highly doubted that Andrea would ever make time for romance. She didn’t even make time for her own sisters more and more.
“We’ll make a trip of it,” Gemma nodded. “Stay with Hope. Spend some time with the girls. They’re a handful, but I miss those little twins.”
“Oh. Good. Good.” Kim was nodding, but she didn’t look relieved as she sipped her wine. “Being back here… I just hate the thought of leaving again.”
Heather fell silent. Kim was voicing her own emotion
s, and Gemma gave her hand a little squeeze.
“Then while you’re here, we should celebrate! Maybe we could gather up a few locals, get some cocktails? Wednesday night?”
At the mention of the other locals, Heather’s heart sped up a bit. Surely Billy wouldn’t pass up the chance to celebrate with them, and she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend a little more time with him.
Kim’s smile looked tense, but she agreed. “That’s…really nice of you, Gemma.”
It was. And with shame, Heather realized it was more than she had done. Why hadn’t she planned it? It was something she would have done—before, when she was still the homemaker and mother hen that Andrea portrayed her to still be. She would have had a complete theme and chronicled every detail in one of her monthly columns.
“Cocktails it is then,” Heather agreed. She gave Andrea a sharp look, just in case she tried to make up an excuse about work.
“Just us girls,” Gemma said.
And that answered that. And for reasons she couldn’t explain to herself, Heather felt distinctly disappointed.
12
Andrea
Heather and Kim were settled on the front porch when Andrea came down the stairs the next morning, showered and dressed, her daily jog already finished. She walked to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee, wandering the downstairs rooms of the house while it brewed.
It was a formal house, built in the late 1800s and too large to be called a cottage even though that’s what it was. Like many of these homes on the island, it was passed down through the generations—something to be cherished as well as enjoyed. Now, as Andrea stood in the living room, admiring the collection of framed photos on the shelving that flanked one of several fireplaces in the home, she felt a strange sense of failure on her part. She’d loved this house, but she hadn’t made it a priority in recent years. With her mother now gone, that responsibility would fall on her, and her sisters.
Her father… Well, the man liked to work even more than she did. And given how alike they were, it was no surprise that he’d been busier than ever this past year.
When the coffee could be smelled from rooms away, she went back to the kitchen and poured herself a mug, wondering if it would be odd to sit out back with her drink rather than join her sisters on the front porch.
Yes, it would be odd, and it wouldn’t be nice either. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid them, it was that the strain between them was obvious. Coming here together had once felt so natural, and now… Now, as much as things were still the same, everything felt different.
Her heartstrings pulled when she spotted her mother’s favorite mug in the cabinet before closing the door. Andrea had hand-painted it when she was just a toddler and one of the many local artists was offering a children’s pottery class one summer. It seemed both wonderful and wrong that the mug had managed to last this long when her mother was no longer here to hold it.
Andrea carefully moved it to the top shelf, where it couldn’t be disrupted. Or used.
Yes, this was a house to be cherished. And everything in it, too.
With that, she walked down the hallway and pushed through the screen door. Her sisters were reading in companionable silence. The day stretched ahead as wide and open as the lake that surrounded them.
“How was your run?” Kim asked, setting her paperback down on the chair beside her.
“Great. You can join me tomorrow if you want,” Andrea offered, and Kim and Heather started laughing at the same time. “What’s so funny?”
Kim gave her a pointed look. “This is vacation, and running has never been my idea of fun.”
“I never said it was fun,” Andrea started to say.
“Then why do it?” Kim asked.
Andrea thought about that as she settled into a chair. “I guess it’s just part of my routine. I’m not used to having this much time on my hands.” For a moment she wondered if Kim would whip out her schedule again, but she just looked at her thoughtfully.
“I’m surprised that you were willing to take so much time away from work. I mean, I’m grateful,” Kim added quickly. “But… What made you decide to come?”
“Well, running by all the old historic homes is sort of like work, or at least research.” Now, her designs erred in the direction of modern, and just talking about work made the panic rise in Andrea’s chest. She swallowed back some coffee, hoping to calm herself. “But you made a good point. About things changing once you’re married. And about Mom.”
They all fell silent at that.
Andrea looked over at the bicycle that was still propped against the porch. She hadn’t ridden a bike in years—maybe not since the last time she’d been here. She would mix it up, change her routine. Tomorrow. But not today. Today she would go back into town, see if she had any responses to her emails from yesterday. See if she had missed out on anything while she was here.
“Did you see my old bike in the shed?” she asked Kim.
Kim nodded. “It might need some air in the tires. And it’s tucked behind some lawn furniture. Want me to help you pull it out?”
She said it so eagerly, that for a moment, Andrea had a flash of the little girl who was five years to her ten, wanting to see what Andrea was up to, wanting to be part of anything that Andrea was interested in at the time. She’d adored her. And the feeling was mutual.
“Sure,” she said, setting down her coffee.
Heather stayed behind while Andrea and Kim went to the back of the house, walking past the playhouse to the shed, which was really a large carriage house, from the time in their family’s past when they’d owned their own buggy. Now, it was full of wicker lawn furniture, croquet mallets, tennis gear, and of course, the bicycles. There were at least seven of various sizes and ages, but her bike was beside Heather’s—one mint green and the other blue—and both covered in cobwebs and dust.
Andrea sneezed and considered she might need to change her clothes after this. Kim, who was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a tee shirt, didn’t seem bothered.
“I suppose Leo didn’t get around to this spot,” she said, but then, the renters weren’t given access to the padlock key. Maybe Leo hadn’t been either.
“Maybe Dad didn’t ask him to,” Kim offered. She began moving a wicker chair with Andrea’s help. “He’s nice. He seems to make Gemma happy too.”
“She did seem happy,” Andrea mused. “I suppose love has a way of doing that to people.”
Not that she would know, she thought with a strange heaviness in her heart. Normally, she didn’t have time to think about her single status—she was too busy for a relationship anyway—but hearing Gemma talk last night, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing something.
She thought back on Pamela’s words, on what the clients had said about her design. That she didn’t have heart. Was it true?
“I suppose it does.” Kim shrugged.
Andrea looked at her ruefully. “You suppose? Says the girl who is madly in love and can talk of nothing other than her bliss?”
Kim frowned and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. “That’s not all I talk about.”
Andrea begged to differ, but she wasn’t about to have another argument with her sister who clearly wasn’t in a joking mood. “I just meant you didn’t sound too convinced just now when I made that comment.” She picked up a tennis racquet and ran her fingers over the broken strings. “Is everything okay with Bran?”
Kim looked at her sharply. “Of course everything is okay with Bran! We’re getting married next month!” She pushed a wicker side table out of the way with more force than seemed necessary, freeing first Heather’s cruiser and then Andrea’s. Sure enough, the tires on both were flat.
“Your bridesmaid dresses should be ready for their final fitting in three weeks, in case I forgot to mention it,” Kim added as she rummaged around, finally retrieving an air pump.
“You did forget, but Lynette didn’t,” An
drea said tightly. Lynette was a sore spot. A pleasant enough woman—highly organized, which Andrea appreciated—but slightly cold. Still, that wasn’t the real issue that Andrea had with Kim’s future mother-in-law. No, the real problem was that more and more, it seemed like Kim had found a new mother altogether, while Andrea was still finding a way to accept the thought that theirs was never coming back. Or maybe, to forget.
Kim nodded. “Lynette’s got it all covered. I suppose I should be grateful. It’s the only way I was able to come up here for two weeks.”
Suppose? There was that word again. Andrea gave her sister a gentle smile, wondering if there was something she wasn’t telling her, but then she thought back on Heather’s opinion. It was probably just stress. Kim wasn’t used to stress or planning things. Kim was used to relying on their mother for that.
And now, she was relying on Lynette!
They pumped the tires and each wheeled a bike to the front of the house where Heather was still sitting on the porch.
“I’ll hose them down,” Heather said.
“Thanks,” Andrea said. “But no rush. I think I’ll walk into town and get some more work done today.”
She saw a glance pass between her two sisters. Not wanting any flack for her choices, she said brightly, “Maybe we can do something fun tonight, just us sisters?” When even Kim didn’t jump at that, she said, “What time are we meeting Gemma and the girls tomorrow night?”
“Around seven,” Kim said.
Andrea nodded. “Good. That will be fun.”
Or at least she hoped it would be, because she wasn’t sure what constituted as fun anymore, and from the look her sisters exchanged, she had a feeling that neither of them considered her to be any fun at all.
A short while later, she loaded her notebook and laptop into the bicycle basket and took off down the road to town, knowing that at least at the Lakeside Inn, she could park herself on the patio without much distraction, enjoy a beverage, and find solid Wi-Fi access, along with much-needed cell coverage.