by Barbara Lohr
“Yep and then Phoebe and Diana. Both new to the area. You’ll enjoy them. Phoebe has a hair salon and Diana opened Hippy Chick, a clothing store. Kind of cute.”
Being with other women might be good for her. “Maybe. Thanks for mentioning it.”
Sarah looked pleased with herself. “Good. We're meeting next Wednesday. My house at seven.”
Whoa. “But I haven't read the book.”
“‘Bridges of Madison County.’ I'll get it to you next week.”
“Oh, I can wing that one.” An old favorite, the novel was packed up in the garage of the condo, waiting for a destination address.
The door to the kitchen slammed open, and two little boys tumbled out, barefoot with t-shirts untucked. “Mom, Mom!” the first little guy called out, running to Sarah. “Nathan won’t share!”
“Mine! These are my dinosaurs!” The other boy clutched some plastic figures to his heaving chest. The unruly hair marked them as Sarah's children.
“Double trouble.” Sarah stared them both down. “Justin and Nathan, can’t you say hello to Kate?”
The boys looked like they might consider it.
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
Sarah laid one hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Where's Grandma Lila?”
Justin poked one finger back toward the kitchen. “Making something.”
At that moment, a silver-haired woman appeared in the doorway, looking tired and more than a little frustrated.
“Sarah, I tried but they’re bored.” When Lila threw up both hands, white flour flew. “Hi, Kate. Good to see you.”
“Boys, we’re going to learn to share or your father will be very disappointed.” Sarah wagged one finger before turning back to Kate. “Their daddy is a very brave soldier.” The last was obviously said for their benefit.
“You must be so proud of him,” Kate said. With his polished Italian loafers and weekly hair styling, Brian wouldn’t have dreamed of going over to the Middle East. “Was Jamie in the reserves?”
Sarah nodded. “Called up, but he would have volunteered anyway. I’ve got a ton of chores ready when he gets back.”
Kate checked the time. “I should get moving. Guess I’ll take a cheese crown for my mom.”
Shepherding the two boys toward their grandmother, Sarah bustled back behind the counter to retrieve Kate’s cheese crown. “Mom, I think it’s nap time.”
Both boys howled.
Waving away Kate’s money, Sarah squeezed her hand. “Oh, don't be silly.”
“I’ll see you…”
“Next Wednesday,” Sarah supplied. “My house. Seven o’clock.”
“Right.” Slotting something on her calendar felt good. Almost banished the embarrassment from running into Cole Campbell.
After all, wasn’t he the one who should be embarrassed?
Chapter 2
Tucked along Greenwood Road, Gull Harbor Care Center stretched long, low, and inviting. The nursing home had been a fixture in the community for over seventy-five years. Kate pulled into the parking lot, grabbed the bakery bag and climbed out.
Alice Kennedy had always been one tough cookie. Kate’s mother could black top the driveway, trim the bushes, and replace rotted railroad ties on the beach path all in one weekend. A whiz at crossword puzzles, she always had the Scrabble board ready. In a telephone conversation, Marianne, the social worker, had mentioned her mother’s “resilience.” Kate expected a quick recovery and she’d come as soon as she could.
Besides, she needed Gull Harbor. She needed home.
Purple and yellow pansies brightened the flowerbeds at the front of the care facility. The forsythia was starting to bloom, and the brown grass was reluctantly greening up. A hint of spring scented the cool air. As Kate tromped toward the front entrance, she passed an elderly man in a plastic lawn chair. The collar of his green wool coat was turned up and the ear flaps of his cap were pulled down. Typical for Michigan. Kate smiled and nodded.
“Hi, I’m Harold.” His eyes were glued to the bakery bag.
“Hi, Harold. I’m Kate. Here to visit my mother. See you later?” Kate hurried inside, wishing she’d grabbed a whole bag of pastries. She approached a young girl with bouncy brown curls sitting behind the main desk. “I'm looking for Alice Kennedy.”
“Sign the visitor’s sheet. Room 210. Left and straight back.”
Kate smiled at the residents as she headed down the hallway, overhead lighting reflecting off the pastel blue tiles. The air smelled of freshly baked bread with an underpinning of lavender. During their tour, the marketing admissions director had made a point of mentioning the cookies baked every afternoon.
When Kate reached her mother’s room, it was empty. An older lady in a bright purple top whirred toward Kate in a wheelchair. “Looking for Alice?”
“Yes, I am. Mrs. McGraw? Is that you?”
The woman squinted. “Katie Kennedy?”
“Aw, so good to see you.” Bending down, she gave Mrs. McGraw a hug. “You look beautiful in purple.”
“A girl still has to look pretty, don’t you think?” Cole’s mother-in-law patted her gray curls.
“Absolutely. Do you still make the rice crispy bars for Halloween trick or treat?”
“Of course. You always wanted more than one.”
Kate blushed. How many times had she heard her mother explain that Kate was a healthy eater?
“You wore that cute orange clown costume with yellow polka dots.”
“My mother made the costume.” Every Halloween, their father had made the rounds of every house along Lake Shore Drive and all the side roads where they had friends. Finally, he’d wind up at the Roadhouse, his favorite bar out on the highway. Their mother hadn’t been too happy about that, but the girls thought it was great fun.
“Alice is probably in therapy.” Mrs. McGraw pointed down the hall. “Your sister coming too? Such a knockout, your sister.”
Well, there you have it. “Mercedes hopes to be here for Memorial Day weekend.” After saying good-bye, Kate followed the signs to Physical Therapy.
Sunlight beamed through a window onto the padded treatment table. A lady in a hot pink warm-up suit worked at lifting her right arm, enormous pink hoop earrings jiggling from the effort. “Just give me a minute, will you?”
No mistaking that voice.
Sinking onto a bench, Kate unzipped her green hoodie. When had her mother started wearing hot pink? Where were the beige elastic waist pants and baggy sweatshirts? Voice low and encouraging, the therapist took her mother through arm exercises. The right arm wasn’t cooperating. “Darn thing. It’s gone to sleep.”
“In a way, it has, but you can train it to wake up,” the physical therapist urged. “That’s it, Alice.” Her mom tried again.
“Can I help you?” Will Applegate took a seat next to Kate. The tall blond administrator always looked on the verge of a hug.
“I’m, ah, waiting for my mother.”
“You’re one of Alice’s daughters.”
“I’m Kate Bankoff, um, Kate Kennedy, I mean.”
“Of course, I remember you.”
Really? Usually Mercedes was the daughter everyone remembered with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Kate’s hair might be blonde now, but her eyes would always be hazel.
“Just got in town. Long drive.” Like that explained everything.
“Your mother will be so happy you’ve come.” When Will smiled, his eyes formed happy faces. “You live in Boston with your husband, right?”
Kate sucked in a breath. “Right, I’m from Boston.”
Will’s eyes swiped her bare left hand.
Kate wasn’t doing any explaining. “How’s she doing?” Her mother was attempting a modified leg lift.
“She’s a strong-minded woman. Lots of spirit.”
“You’ve got that right.” Spirit enough to hang her sheets outside to dry, even when the winter winds turned polyester to sheet rock.
“We’re glad to have her with
us. You might want to talk to Lisa later.” He nodded to the physical therapist. “And Marianne, her social worker.”
“Maybe tomorrow I could catch up.” Suddenly, Kate wished Mercedes were here.
“Of course.”
The session had ended. Lisa helped Alice into the wheelchair.
Kate stepped up. “Mom?”
“Mercedes?”
“No, Mom. It’s Kate.” She squatted so her mother could see her. “We talked yesterday about my visit.”
“Well, of course I remember.” Her mother’s chin came up.
Yep, this was the mom Kate knew and loved.
“Katie, how nice.”
Kate’s throat swelled, and she gave her mom a quick hug. Her mother hadn’t called her that in a long time.
Kate took the wheelchair from the therapist. “It's always wonderful when your daughter finally comes to see you.” Alice’s voice carried the staunch bravery that had been so familiar to Kate growing up. Stoic. Long-suffering. “She lives in…”
“Boston,” Kate prompted.
“Bean Town,” her mom had joked when Kate settled there. “My daughter lives in Bean Town.”
“Like your outfit, Mom. You look good in pink.”
With a pleased smile, her mother ran her left hand over her warm-up suit. “It’s new.”
“Did they take you on a field trip to go shopping?” How had they managed that?
“Heck, no. The shopping channel.” Her mother looked at her like she’d just fallen off the stupid truck.
“I don’t recall you shopping online before.”
“Marie taught me. Easy peasy. I just work the remote with my left hand. Click, click, and it comes in the mail.”
Was this really her frugal mother talking? The woman who even bought generic oatmeal? Head down, Kate wheeled her mother toward her room. Wait until Mercedes heard about this.
After she’d settled her mother into the blue vinyl chair next to the bed, Kate opened the white paper bag. The scent of pastry filled the room. “I brought a surprise for you.”
“Saints be praised.” Alice smiled while Kate broke the cheese crown in two.
As her mother began to nibble, Kate perched on the edge of the bed.
“Are you staying long?”
“For a while.” She had no idea how long she’d be in Gull Harbor.
“I suppose Brian will want you home.”
No sense putting this off. “Mom, Brian and I aren't together anymore.”
Her mother's head jerked. “He left you?”
That was her first thought? “No, not really.”
Kate’s mother chewed slowly, as if digesting the news. “I always thought you two were perfect for each other.”
“I did too. But we weren’t. Not really.”
Her mother brushed the crumbs from her lips with her good hand. “My goodness. He must have done something terrible.”
Kate picked at the edge of the blue blanket. The fabric looked substantial but felt thin. Probably wouldn’t keep out the cold but fine for summer.
Had Brian done anything? It was what Brian hadn’t done. Like not telling her he didn’t ever plan on fathering a child. How embarrassing that they’d never hammered out those details.
“I just want you to be happy, honey.” Her mom’s pale hazel eyes searched hers.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really. Just a little tired from the drive.”
“Go home and rest.” Her mother’s forehead wrinkled. “Where did you come from again?”
She kissed her mother’s forehead. “Boston.”
“Right. Bean Town.” Her mom smiled at her own joke.
Kate handed her mother the remote. The shopping channel was extolling the virtues of a turquoise neck clip for reading glasses when Kate left.
Harold still sat guard at the door. “Bye, Kate.”
“See you later, Harold.”
Chapter 3
Turning off Red Arrow Highway onto Lake Shore Road, Kate opened her window. Her mom might be a little confused right now, but she’d be fine and she’d taken the news about Brian pretty well. Right now, all Kate wanted was a hot shower.
The sound of waves pounding the shores of Lake Michigan loosened Kate’s shoulders. How often had that rhythm soothed her when she was growing up? When she failed to make the cheerleading squad like her older sister, when she studied for her SATs, when she waited to hear about financial aid for her college scholarship… those continuous waves told her everything would turn out all right.
For a short time, Kate was back in Gull Harbor, where things never changed.
She turned into the driveway leading to Breezy Point. A canopy of trees whispered overhead, plunging the winding road into shadows. Cracking the window open, she sucked in the damp lake air. Her shoulders loosened then sagged under a wave of fatigue. Bonita nosed into the clearing, and Kate could practically hear the water running in the tub upstairs, feel the steam and see the bubbles in the bath she was going to draw.
In back of the house sat her mother's trusty beige sedan. Parked next to it was a shiny green pickup truck. She’d seen that truck earlier today. What the heck was Cole Campbell doing here?
Kate wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel. Instead, she drew a deep breath. Birds chattered in the trees overhead. The whistle of an Amtrak train carried on the late afternoon air. Throwing back her shoulders, Kate shoved the door open and jumped out.
The pickup sat empty. No Cole and no dog. She hated dogs, and Cole’s was giant size. Her father had always wanted a dog, but they shed hair and had accidents, or so her mother said.
Kicking through damp leaves that needed raking, she walked around the side of the house. Kate had her work cut out for her. Usually her mom went crazy raking every spring. “You have to let the daffodils and tulips reach the sun, or they’ll come up crooked.” Not this year. The white frame house looked neglected, like an unshaven derelict.
Rounding the corner, Kate came to a halt. Cole’s Great Dane was squatting on the front lawn, angling for position with delicate care.
“Stop! Stop that right now!” Rushing at the dog, Kate waved her arms like a windmill. The animal probably outweighed Kate by twenty pounds. Didn’t matter.
Caught mid-squat, the dog looked insulted by the interruption. Its jowls trembled.
“Priscilla!” Cole came striding through the wild ferns with a swashbuckling gait. He’d grown taller since high school, with shoulders amazingly broad for such a slim waist. Even with a scowl, the man was too handsome for his own good.
Kate folded her arms over her chest. “You're on private property.”
“Sorry. Prissy doesn’t know that.” Cole pushed his aviator sunglasses up. “Kate? So that was you?”
“Yep, it’s me.”
“I wasn’t sure. The hair.” But Cole wasn’t looking at her hair. Smoky blue eyes did a sweeping figure eight.
Heat flared in Kate’s cheeks and rolled downward.
“Good to see you.” His hand shot out. She ignored it. Kate was being foolish, and she knew it.
Cole drew back those long fingers that drove home his point to win almost every debate on the high school schedule. “We went to high school together. I was in your sister’s class. We were on debate team together, remember?” His eyes had turned wary, like the lake when it just might storm.
Apparently Prissy had finished, vigorously scratching the ferns with her hind legs.
Annoyance roiled in Kate’s chest. Why was he here? Especially when she was looking so bad and he was looking, well, incredibly hot.
Today, Kate didn’t want Cole Campbell to remember anything about her. She wanted a hot soak in the old clawfoot tub upstairs. “Debate Club. Right, I remember.” Way too much. “In case you didn't notice, you're on my fa—mother’s property.” Her throat closed. Hadn't been her dad’s home for a long time.
Cole tucked his hands into his jeans. She knew that look. He was sizing up the competition and planning strategy. “Thin
k, then speak” had been their motto in Debate Club. Kate sure wished she could master that motto.
When the sun came out from behind a cloud, the light found tiny lines bracketing his lips and fanning from his eyes. “Thought if that was you on the road, you might need help getting that kayak down to your boathouse.”
“I can manage.”
At the foot of the steeps steps sat a boathouse, dim and dank, cluttered with old inner tubes and beach toys. Made her tired to even think of hauling Gator down there.
Cole knew all this. “Just thought I’d help out if I could. With your mom’s stroke and everything, I mean.”
Yep, absolutely no secrets in Gull Harbor. “Thanks, but we’ve, ah, I’ve got it covered.”
“As you probably know, your sister asked me to stop by.”
Kate’s mouth fell open. “She did? Why?”
Cole’s glanced over Breezy Point like he appreciated the view. “Great piece of property. So you’re selling the place?”
Breath whooshed from her body. “What? No way!”
“You’re not even renting it out this summer?”
“Is there a sign at the road?”
“Maybe I misunderstood Mercedes.”
“I need to have a talk with my sister.” Kate’s right eye started to twitch.
Cole scuffed one boot into the grass that hadn’t been cut in ages. The Great Dane prowled, chewing the weeds.
She looked pointedly at the dog and the mess. Like her owner, Prissy assumed the property was hers for the taking. He hadn’t come here to help her. “Don't suppose you've got a plastic bag to clean that up.” Holy moly, she was riding high on her bitch horse today.
“Unfortunately, no. Priscilla, stop eating that grass. You’ll get sick again.”
“Priscilla?”
Cole finally looked uncomfortable. “I didn't name her.”
They faced each other like strangers. Ten years had passed, but things hadn’t changed. He was the basketball star, and she was the valedictorian. The difference felt wider than Lake Michigan.
Kate wanted Cole gone. She also wanted to strangle her sister. The wind rattled the tree limbs overhead, an eerie creaking. Dark clouds obscured the sun and the day turned cooler.