Cottage by the Creek

by Elizabeth Bromke

“Floating beach party,” Clara quipped. “Happens every weekend. That’s the one thing I learned this week. In the teacher’s lounge. It’s like the number one topic of conversation. You’d be amazed how… immersed teachers are in the social lives of their students. I mean, I guess it was sort of like that at the middle school, but the stakes are higher now, you know?”

  “So, what kind of a student is Vivi? Come on, Clar, you can tell me. I won’t go running to Matt. I promise.” Kate clasped her hands in pleading supplication.

  “Okay, all right,” Clara replied. “But I’m not talking about school as a teacher right now. I’m talking about my job as your sister,” she answered, grinning a little. Kate smiled back. They hadn’t officially agreed on keeping their sister status intact in the wake of the truth, but it seemed that’s how Clara wanted to proceed—with Kate as her big sister, just like always.

  It made sense. Nora was Clara’s mother. Nora raised Clara. Nora wanted Clara for a daughter. Kate knew this to be true, even if it seemed a little wonky.

  And Kate could tell another thing, too. As long as she was Clara’s sister, then Clara didn’t have to come to terms with the matter of Matt Fiorillo.

  But if she ever wanted to, then Kate was ready. She’d made it clear in the past, and she’d continue to gently insert the offer where appropriate.

  Now wasn’t appropriate, though.

  Now, Clara just wanted to relax with a drink on a Friday night on the lip of Lake Huron. With her sisters.

  And Kate couldn’t be happier.

  “Well,” Clara began, “Viviana is very smart. I mean… really smart. Scary smart. She gives Mercy a run for her money.”

  “Do you think that’s the private school influence?” Amelia asked, only half as interested in their conversation as she was, apparently, in the hummus and pita bread. But it was a useful question.

  Clara shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m telling you, though. That girl is just plain whip smart. But I can’t get a read on her. Some days, I think she’s taunting me. Other days, I think she adores me.”

  Kate leaned back in her chair. “You know what? I feel the exact same way. Sometimes, she swings by here, randomly. She’ll play nice and sweet, and then I’ll see her in town the next afternoon, and she ignores me. She’s hot and cold.”

  “Is Matt that way?” Clara asked. “Hot and cold?”

  Kate shook her head. “Not at all. He’s… even keeled. Consistent.”

  “What about her mother?”

  The question belonged to Megan, which was logical. When it came to family dynamics, Megan always went back to the mom-and-dad factor. It was the matchmaker in her, maybe. Or the deep need to pair people off and break them down—looking at how they functioned. How they ticked.

  This time, Kate just blinked. “I don’t know much about her—Vivi’s mom, I mean. I know she was the type to sort of… give up her daughter.” As the words slid out of her mouth, her stomach cramped, and she grew lightheaded. She dropped her chin to her chest. “I can’t judge that, I guess.”

  Amelia squeezed her hand. “No one is judging anything here, Kate,” she whispered. But Kate didn’t lift her head to meet Clara’s gaze.

  So, when Clara spoke, Kate’s heart raced in her chest.

  “Kate, what happened to you was a different matter. You don’t need to feel ashamed, okay? I don’t. Really, I don’t,” Clara said.

  Kate looked up at last and met her gaze. She never meant for the conversation to turn so heavy, but maybe it was inevitable. Nodding and smiling, she sucked down the threat of tears. “Thanks, Clar. I didn’t mean that Vivi’s mom is a… a bad mom, either. I don’t know her, like I said.”

  “Does Vivi know her?” Amelia asked pointedly.

  Clara answered for Kate. “Yes. According to her, her parents didn’t split until she was at least old enough to recall it. And Vivi lived with her mother for a while, too. It was more recently that she moved to Heirloom.”

  Kate was ready to re-enter the conversation and accept that the secret about Clara could (for now) be water under the bridge. She cleared her throat. “Vivi is closer with Matt. She and her mom butted heads, I think. But everything is better for her here. She’s happy.”

  Nodding, Clara replied, “Good. Maybe I’m being sensitive. It’s hard, you know, starting fresh at a new school. For teachers, too.”

  “For teachers, for freshmen, and for seniors,” Megan pointed out. “I think Sarah is eating her lunch in the bathroom.”

  “What?” Kate nearly choked on her drink. “How can that be? She’s practically the teen queen of Birch Harbor, and she just moved here.”

  Megan shook her head. “She said Paige and Chloe have the opposite lunch block. Mercy and Vivi have the same one as Sarah, though. But when she’s in the cafeteria, the younger two try to sit with her, and it…” Megan’s eyes flashed up. “It embarrasses her, I guess.”

  Kate swallowed. “Aw, well, that makes sense. They want to take advantage of their cool older friend. And Sarah can’t compromise her reputation to play big sister to freshmen.”

  Megan shrugged. “I don’t know. I think she needs an extracurricular.”

  “Drama,” Amelia answered.

  Kate huffed. “It’s all drama at that age.”

  “No,” Amelia replied. “I mean drama.”

  Chapter 7—Clara

  The following day, Clara couldn’t eat a thing. Her plans with Jake had been a distraction all week, but now she needed a distraction from him.

  By noon, and with nothing good enough to wear, she called Amelia.

  “Help,” Clara whined into the phone.

  “What? Are you cleaning the basement again?” Amelia’s voice took on an exasperated effect.

  “No, I mean for my date. I feel sick, Am. Literally sick. I’m shaking, and I have no clue what I’ll wear, and—”

  “Okay, first of all, you should eat something now. You don’t want to faint.”

  Clara frowned. “I can’t. I’m frozen over here.”

  “Well, come to the lighthouse, then. I’ll put you to work here. I have lots you and Sarah can do.”

  “Is Sarah there?” Clara asked.

  “Yep. She’s trying to format my brochure.”

  “You’re making brochures already?”

  “I want to open on Saturday, October third. But Michael thinks we should delay a month. Too much going on. His work. The case…”

  “You’re not talking about—”

  “Dad,” Amelia replied. “It’s not over, you know, Clar.”

  To Clara, the case of the missing Wendell Acton was a nonstarter. She’d never met the man, and from her tinted view, he was nothing more than a deadbeat. Worse than Matt, even. Maybe much worse, if Matt was telling the truth about hoping to be a part of Clara’s life.

  “Okay, so you two can keep at it with content and formatting. Sarah, don’t forget to reference my notes.” Amelia slid a page full of chicken scratch closer to the computer. “We also need bulk printing. I’m talking to my friends from the Players to see if they’d be interested in staging a historical re-enactment for the opening and—”

  “When is the opening, again?” Clara interrupted as she lowered herself next to Sarah at the kitchen table.

  “I told you, I’m aiming for October third.”

  “So, you’re going to have an event on that day, too? Like Kate with the Inn?”

  “Yes, that’s the plan. We’ve got to draw attention. So anyway, if they can pull something off in a couple of weeks, and if Michael can get all the paperwork filed in time, then October third is totally doable.”

  “What day of the week is that?” Sarah asked.

  “Saturday,” Clara and Amelia replied in tandem.

  “That’s Homecoming, then. You’ll lose out on anyone going to Homecoming, you know.”

  Amelia and Clara exchanged a small smile.

  “Well, cheerleaders and the local marching band aren’t exactly my target demographic,” Amelia began
. Clara shot her a look, and Amelia added, “But you’re right.” She let out a sigh.

  “Maybe you should take Michael’s advice and hold off for a few more weeks.” Clara began reading over Sarah’s shoulder, starting with the Hannigan and Acton family histories on the left side of the screen and sweeping down to an introduction of the museum director and curator, Amelia Ann Hannigan.

  Her older sister answered, “What if it’s too cold, though? Halloween is, like, the breaking point between fall and winter. And you know there’s nothing worse than going to an outdoor event when it’s cold. Trust me. I’ve been to one too many winter weddings.”

  “But you’re having it in the daytime, right?” Clara asked.

  “Yes, but it might be cold in the daytime, too. Keep in mind the visitors will be standing around, not going for a midday jog.” Amelia hesitated. “I’ll look up the weather, and we’ll go from there.”

  Sarah explained what she’d done so far while Amelia took her phone out and thumbed her way online.

  “So, Aunt Clar—or, I mean Clara,”

  “You can still call me Aunt, you know,” Clara replied, her eyes moving across to the center section of the online pamphlet. Lighthouses on Lake Huron, it read.

  “It’s a little awkward either way,” Sarah confessed. “I’ll just… well, anyway, Aunt Amelia wants a page of attractions, a page of events, and a page of resources. She gets extra funding if we can pull in sponsors, too, whatever that means. So, we need to add multiple pages, but I’m not sure what should go after the lighthouse overview.” Sarah pointed at the center of the screen.

  “Hmm.” Clara drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes drifting down the neatly laid-out document on the laptop. “Let’s move hours of operation and location to the back page. Do you have a back page yet?”

  Sarah clicked twice, and it appeared, complete with a lighthouse logo and the newly minted name that Amelia had registered: The Birch Harbor Lighthouse and Museum. It lacked originality, but perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing when it came to business branding.

  Clara directed Sarah back to the first section. “You’re good at this, you know. Graphic design, I suppose you’d call it?”

  “I took a class back home. It’s easy, though. Just takes a little time.” She typed from Amelia’s handwritten notes.

  “Do you think that’s what you’d like to do after you graduate? Study graphic design?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No way. I’m all about the water. I want to be a marine biologist. In California or Florida or somewhere.”

  “Really?” Clara asked. “You know Mercy’s dad is a marine biologist. Or was. He taught at college, but he spent a lot of time on the Great Lakes. Fresh water research or something.” Clara stopped herself. “At least, that’s what Mercy told me.”

  Sarah’s eyebrow picked up. “I didn’t know he taught college kids. That’s pretty cool. But now he’s just a marina manager.” She shrugged.

  Clara leaned back. “Just a marina manager? He heads up Birch Harbor Marina. It’s a huge job, you know.”

  “I didn’t mean anything. I just… I don’t know. Why would you do that if you were a biologist? You know? Sounds like a… downgrade.”

  “I think he wanted to spend more time on the water rather than writing about it, maybe.” Clara didn’t really know why Jake Hennings gave up a great job to move to the lake and deal with tourists, actually. It was her own romantic assumption she shared with Sarah, privately. She stowed the question for their date that night, feeling suddenly more comfortable. Less jittery. “Are there any snack foods around here?”

  Sarah pointed to the kitchen counter. “Apples for days.”

  Clara rose and grabbed one. Then a second. Then she popped open the cupboard and took out a glass for water and filled it, chugging like a frat boy until the whole glass had disappeared.

  She let out a sigh. “I feel a little better now.”

  Sarah giggled. “I didn’t know that adults got nervous for dates.”

  Clara grinned at her. “We’re human, too.”

  Amelia broke into their conversation. “Okay, so the temps totally drop off at the end of October. There is no way I can open with food trucks and the re-enactment in November. It has to be earlier. October tenth. That’s the latest we can do it and still maintain some degree of comfort.” She was talking a mile a minute. “No pun intended.”

  Clara cut in, “I don’t want you to get sensitive, Am, but how in the world are you going to sustain this through the winter if you’re worried about late October? I mean, it’s going to get a lot colder. Will you still have… patrons? Or whatever you call them?”

  Amelia gave her a look. “Obviously, business will dwindle in the colder months because tourism dwindles. But I’ve got great ideas. First,” she went on, grabbing an apple for herself and polishing it on her shirt like a cartoon character, “the lighthouse will remain open year round as a museum. It costs little to keep it going, and I’ll nab the weekend warriors and weekday seniors who are looking for something to do. Secondly, I reached out to the county artists’ association. I offered to act as an on-location gallery at a low rate. They’re interested, Clara.” Amelia rounded the table and pulled a chair too close, her eyes ablaze. “And that’s not all, either. I’m going to partner with Megan and rent out the lighthouse for date nights.”

  “Date nights? You’re going to charge Megan for her matchmaking clients to come to the lighthouse?” Clara frowned.

  “No, no, no. It’ll be wrapped up in their fee. Megan is going to give me a cut of profits in exchange for getting first dibs on reservations after eight o’clock at night.”

  “It sounds like—”

  “But wait, there’s more,” Amelia continued, jabbing a finger at the screen. Sarah scrolled for her, apparently in on the various hustles and schemes that Amelia had thought up.

  Clara’s eyes focused. “Murder Mystery Dinner Theatre?” She frowned. “Amelia, have you gone mad?”

  Amelia grinned. “We all go a little mad sometimes, you know.” Then she shook her head. “But seriously, it’s perfect. I’ll book small parties and host a dinner and enlist the Players to trickle along in the group for a night of perfect fall fun.”

  “A night of perfect fall fun,” Clara echoed, growing adrift with overwhelm. “You’re planning all of that, and you’re still looking for Wendell?” Clara never knew which term to use for him. Dad? Wendell? Your dad, when talking to her sisters?

  This was becoming a running theme in the family—who had earned which title and how—and Clara didn’t like it.

  Sarah pushed away from the laptop. “I think it all sounds like a lot of fun,” she snapped defensively.

  “I don’t mean to be critical, but come on, you two. You’ve got a lot on your plates. And Sarah, you’ve got school to think of. And your new friends, right?” She knew she sounded like a big fat guilt trip crashing a party of two, but wasn’t it her duty to shed a little reality on the situation?

  Sarah slapped the computer shut. “I’m taking a break. I’ll be on the dock.”

  “Isn’t there a beach party tonight?” Clara called after her. “I heard about it from the other teachers.”

  “I’m not going!” Sarah answered over her shoulder as she left the house.

  Clara felt Amelia’s eyes burning on her. “We’re busting our butts here, Clar. Sarah’s excited for all of this, you know? And it’s good for her.”

  “Good for her? Amelia,” Clara argued. “I know you mean well. But can’t you see that Sarah needs to assimilate at school? Megan was just talking about this last night. If she’s too wrapped up with you, she’ll keep… I don’t know. She’ll keep eating lunch in the bathroom or something. You need to cut her loose a little.”

  Amelia let out a long breath. “I don’t know if I agree, Clar. I mean, I think that if she wants to be here helping me, then she should be able to. It’s safer anyway, right?”

  “Safer than what?” Clara asked. “Safer tha
n having no one to turn to at school? No one to talk to on the phone at night like you and your girlfriends used to do? Jamming up the line and sending Mom into a conniption fit?”

  They shared a small smile, and Clara went on, “Am, I know what it’s like to have no friends at school. I know what it’s like to give up your childhood for an adult. I did it. Trust me. I mean, yeah. You’re way… cooler than Mom. You’re younger and fun, and Sarah’s probably having fun, that’s true. But if you keep assigning her tasks, then she’ll grow further away from those kids who first took an interest.”

  Amelia’s gaze narrowed. “I get what you mean, Clara, but I don’t think it’s a bad idea to distract her from those crazy beach parties. Right? I mean, I went to my fair share of them, so I know exactly what I’m talking about here.” She shook her head. “Anyway, Clara, you and Sarah are nothing alike. Sarah is naturally social. She makes friends easily, and she fits in. But if she finds her niche outside of Birch Harbor High, then that’s okay, too.”

  Clara shook her head, confused. “What do you mean ‘we’re nothing alike?’ What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying to let her do what she wants to do.”

  “No, what are you saying about me?” Clara asked, her eyes stinging.

  Amelia balked. “Nothing, oh my gosh, Clar.” She pressed her hand to her head and massaged it. “Okay, I’m sorry. I guess… I guess I’m saying that you put a lot of focus on school. And then you never stopped. You went to college, then you went right back to school—to become a teacher. And you did all that despite the fact that you never were much for things like homecoming or sports or choir. You worked at school, you went home and worked, you went back to school and started all over again.”

  “And that’s exactly what you’re doing with Sarah. Dragging her in on the weekends to help you cobble together some wild notion of professional success.” Clara shook her head. “All I’m saying is to encourage Sarah to have a normal senior year. Megan would appreciate it, if nothing else.”

  “No way,” Amelia answered. “She’s going to have more than a normal, average senior year here. She’s going to have an amazing one. And I’m going to see to it.”