Aunt Julie raised her fork. “I'll unlock the rooms for you later, Donald. Let's enjoy dinner first.”
I wanted to mention that I'd heard something in the Garden Room before Mother arrived, and I also needed to tell Donald about the doll Carolyn found by the lighthouse. I knew it wasn't the right time, though. I planned to do it privately if I could get Donald away from my aunt's side. I didn't want to speak of it in front of Wanda. Had Dottie actually been lost on the day Michael died and not recovered until now?
From the Notes of Michael Gamboski
(photo of Ida Lewis, female lighthouse keeper, Wikimedia Commons)
Lighthouse keeping was one of the first U.S. government jobs available to women in the 19th century. There were many female lighthouse keepers (80 are on file), but most obtained their position when their husband died or became incapacitated.
Lime Rock Light in Newport Harbor, RI was first lit in 1854. After the first keeper, James Lewis, suffered a stroke in 1858, his wife Ida tended the light assisted by her young daughter. In 1879, Lime Rock was renamed the Ida Lewis Lighthouse.
Robbins Reef, also known as Kate's Light, is named after the wife of a keeper who, after his death, tended the light from 1886 to 1919 and daily rowed her children to school in Staten Island.
(Information obtained from the U.S. Lighthouse Society)
Chapter Forty-One
Sea Scope: Twenty years ago
When Sarah woke, the memory of the night before and what she and Glen heard outside their parents' door came back to her, filling her with fear. Was it true her father was actually leaving her mother? Would they be moving away from Sea Scope? She hadn't slept well thinking about what it all meant and how it would affect her and her brother.
As Sarah dressed, she realized today was also the day Michael was checking out of the inn. He'd announced yesterday at breakfast that he'd finished his report and was going to spend the rest of the summer at home with his parents. She and Glen had helped him load his suitcases into his car because he wanted to get an early start in the morning. They were sad to see him go, but he promised to come back and visit.
When Sarah went downstairs, she noticed no one was around. Ms. Wilson hadn't even started breakfast, and she usually did that early on Saturdays before she took Wendy to Bible school. Glancing at the kitchen clock, she saw it was 7:30.
She jumped when she heard footsteps behind her, but it was only her aunt. “If you're looking for food, Sarah, it won't be out until later. You can have fruit now if you'd like. Ms. Wilson is not feeling well this morning, so I'll be making breakfast. Is Glen up, too?”
“No, Aunt Julie. I haven't seen him. Sorry about Ms. Wilson. Is Wendy still going to Bible school today?”
Aunt Julie walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she scanned its contents. “I hope so, Sarah. Maybe you want to help me get eggs started. Most of the guests sleep late on Saturday mornings, anyway.”
“Is Michael gone yet?”
Aunt Julie brought a dozen eggs to the table. “No. He's out on the patio with your father. Maybe you can take them this basket of muffins while I put on coffee. They're not freshly made, but Michael really should have something to eat before his drive home.” She handed Sarah the basket, and Sarah's stomach growled reminding her it was empty.
“Thanks, Sarah. You can have one if you want.”
As she headed toward the patio doors, Sarah heard two male voices drifting toward her. She recognized her father's low deep voice and Michael's higher one. As she listened, she realized they were arguing. Her father's voice was raised. She recognized the tone from when he became mad at her or Glen. Afraid to disturb them, she stood inside next to the doors. Her intent wasn't to snoop but to wait to enter until they quieted down. However, she couldn't avoid hearing their words.
“I'm giving this all up for you, and now you tell me it's over.”
“Martin, calm down. Someone might hear us.”
“I don't care anymore. I'm sick of hiding. I spoke to Jennifer last night. I told you she's agreeing to the divorce. I didn't expect that, but I'm relieved.”
“I didn't ask you to do that. What about your kids? Your sister? I assume you're giving up the inn.”
“I spoke to you about that, also. I'm starting my own construction company. It'll take time, but I won't be under Julie's command anymore.”
“I wish you luck, Martin, but I have my own plans. I have one more year at the university and then I begin my own career. I enjoy research. I'm thinking of becoming of an archivist.”
Sarah had to move closer to the door to hear her father's next words because he'd finally calmed down and was speaking lower.
“So that's it then?”
“I'm sorry if you misunderstood. I shouldn't have accepted the ring, but you said it was only a token of your friendship.”
“I don't want it back.”
In the silence that followed, Sarah took the opportunity to take out the muffins. When she slipped through the patio doors, her father and Michael were hugging. She found it strange because her father wasn't a demonstrative man and hardly ever hugged any of them or even their mother. They broke apart when she said, “Excuse me. Aunt Julie wanted me to bring food out to you. Ms. Wilson has a bad headache this morning.”
Her father turned, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes when he looked at her. “Thanks, Sarah.”
Sarah placed the basket on the small wicker table between the rocking chairs. “Are you leaving soon?” she asked Michael.
He smiled, although she noticed his eyes looked teary, too. “Yes, Sarah. We already said our goodbyes last night. I'm going to miss you and your brother, but I'll come by when I can.”
Sarah knew that wasn't going to happen. Whenever friends at her school said they were moving but would keep in touch, they never did. It was what people said to lighten the blow when they exited from your life.
She was about to head back to the kitchen to help Aunt Julie start breakfast when Wendy skipped out on to the patio swinging her doll at her side. “Good morning, Mr. Brewster, Michael, Sarah.”
“Is your mother feeling better?” Sarah's father asked.
“Yes. She's in the kitchen making breakfast with Ms. Brewster. She asked me to come out and call you all in.”
“I'll take a muffin to go,” Michael said. He turned to Sarah's father. “Thanks again for you and your sister's hospitality. I enjoyed my stay at Sea Scope.” Choosing a chocolate chip muffin from the tray, he headed down the walk, disappearing into the shadows of the hanging moss that lined the path.
“We might as well go inside,” Sarah's father said, his eyes still wet, a catch to his voice.
She and Wendy followed him into the house.
“Where's Mama?” Wendy asked Aunt Julie as she entered the kitchen. A few of the inn guests were there eating and talking among themselves at one of the back tables. Aunt Julie always reserved the front table for the family. The only one there was Glen, and Sarah's father took the seat next to him. Sarah still saw a sadness in his eyes and doubted he would eat much. Sarah's mother wasn't down yet. After what she and her brother heard exchanged between her parents last night, Sarah wouldn't be surprised if her mother stayed in her room all day.
“She's outside already, Wendy,” Aunt Julie said. “She told me to have you grab a muffin and meet her out there. You're already running late for Bible school.”
Wendy did as she was instructed, whispering to Sarah that she was hoping she wouldn't have to go this morning. Then she raced out the back door to meet her mother.
Glen and Sarah's father were immersed in a conversation about Glen's latest science project. Sarah was surprised Glen hadn't even asked about Michael because they'd been very close. The day before, when Michael brought them into his room one last time and said goodbye, he'd given Glen a copy of one of the lighthouse books he'd purchased that he no longer needed. Even though it wasn't particularly related to science, Glen appeared happy with it. Sarah recei
ved a lovely shell Michael had found on the beach that he'd cleaned and polished. He told her it would make a nice paperweight for her sketches. For Wendy, he had a box of her favorite fudge from the candy store, but he made her promise not to eat all of it at once or she would get a stomach ache and her mother would be mad at him. Sarah wondered if he'd given the adults gifts, but she didn't notice any. Everyone was sorry to see him leave, especially her father.
Chapter Forty-Two
Sea Scope: Present day
I hardly had an appetite for dinner and found the food cold and tasteless due to my mood and apprehension about what I needed to speak to Donald about. He and my aunt had left to check out the locked rooms while I helped clear the table. Wanda said her headache was worsening and she needed to lie down. Russell and Carolyn had gone to the movies, and Mother offered to help me clean up. I was glad of her company.
“You did great before, Mom,” I said as we stood at the sink washing the dishes. “I know how hard it must've been for you to talk about all that.”
Mother dried the plate I handed her. “Thank you, Sarah, but I should've done this years ago. I keep trying to protect people, but I can't continue to make that an excuse for hiding from the truth.”
“Do you really think Dad killed Michael?”
Mother paused, the dish rag in her hand. “I don't know. After breakfast that morning, he left the inn. I never told Donald that when he questioned me. I said I was out on the porch reading and saw your father working on his car. He was actually taking his morning jog toward the lighthouse.”
I hadn't realized Mother had lied about my father's whereabouts on the morning of Michael's death. “What did Father tell the detective that day?”
“He said he had engine issues with his car and was trying to fix it. Donald didn't question us separately, so he went along with the story I told.”
“How about your alibi?” I asked. “Did Father provide one for you?”
She shook her head. “No. He said he wasn't aware I was on the porch.”
“What about Aunt Julie? She usually sits outside in the morning.”
“She said she was up in her studio painting.” Mother pushed back a strand of blonde hair streaked with gray that had fallen over her left eye as she'd bent down to dry the plate I'd handed her.
“So no one but you corroborated anyone else's story?”
“That's right, but it didn't matter, Sarah. They ruled Michael's death a suicide. I never believed it. He was on his way home. He'd finished his paper. The authorities created a scenario where he had a broken romance and couldn't face life anymore. Donald Marshall said the goodbyes Michael gave us all the day before were intended as last goodbyes. He never got in his car that morning. It was found in the parking area reserved for guests. He'd walked to the lighthouse instead and jumped off the tower.”
“Glen and I heard you and Dad talking the night before about breaking up,” I said, handing her another dish to dry. I figured if we were having an honest conversation, she needed to know everything. “The next morning, Michael told Dad he was sorry if he'd given him the wrong impression but that he had plans for the future that didn't include him. I couldn't understand what he meant, but I knew Dad was very upset afterwards.”
Mother sighed and looked down at the wet plate dripping into the sink. “I had a suspicion you and Glen knew something. I believe your father agreed to move to Long Island and stay in our sham of a marriage to escape his guilt. I know that never works. Running away, whether to a distant place or through a bottle, isn't a solution to any problem. I should've realized that years ago.”
I laid the last dish down and placed my hand on my mother's arm. “It wasn't easy for you.” Anger at my father boiled up in me. At that moment, I knew he was a murderer. If not of Michael, then at least of my mother's dreams. He'd married her knowing he couldn't fully love her the way she loved him.
When Donald and Aunt Julie finished searching the inn, they met us in the living room where Mother and I were having tea and talking. It was as if a barrier had been torn down between us, and I felt closer to her than I had in years.
“No luck,” Donald said as he entered with my aunt at his side. “There's no sign of her. Given that Wanda's house is nearby, it's possible Wendy is returning there at night. There haven't been any further messages or thefts, so she may even be back to her old self at this point. I would advise Wanda to check at home tomorrow or call there. I'm not a psychiatrist, but I don't think this type of episode that was described to me would last more than a few hours.”
“Even so,” Aunt Julie said, “I think it's a good idea that you stay here tonight, Donald, as we discussed. I'll set up a guest room for you.”
I watched their interplay and knew finding Wendy or providing protection from her wasn't behind my aunt's plan. It was apparent by the brightness of her eyes and the special smile she gave Donald Marshall that she was still infatuated with him. I doubted he'd actually be sleeping in a guest room that night.
Donald and Julie joined us for tea, but the conversation lulled. It was obvious Julie wanted to be alone with her old lover, and mother was tired from her confession. I still needed to talk to Donald about Wendy's doll, but it didn't look like I'd be able to get him. I decided to go to bed and maybe read more of my diary to see if anything I'd recorded might shed light on what really happened to Michael the day he attempted to leave Sea Scope.
While I was in my room, I heard Russell and Carolyn return from the movie. They were laughing and talking about the show. I closed my door as their footsteps headed to the East Wing. I had a feeling my friend would be spending the night in the Lighthouse Room and not next door to me. I was happy for her but wary for Russell. If Carolyn was a younger version of Aunt Julie, she might give him his walking papers before the end of the summer. I tried to control my cynicism. Just because the man I'd married was sleeping with his young student didn't mean everyone's love was ill-fated. I tossed my diary aside. I'd be facing Derek tomorrow when he arrived at the inn. Part of me was excited at this prospect, but another dreaded our confrontation. I sought strength from my mother's admission hoping it would give me confidence to approach Derek about the girl who'd answered our phone. Although our relationship had been strained in the months before my trip back to Sea Scope, I'd never had proof of Derek's dishonesty or disloyalty until now.
I punched my pillow in frustration. Wasn't it ironic that at almost the same moment I learned I was carrying his baby Derek was in our bed with a coed?
I closed my eyes and tried to block out the painful thoughts. I anticipated staying awake worrying about the next day, but Carolyn may have been right about how tiring the early stages of pregnancy were because I found myself drifting to sleep with images of Derek and me floating through my mind.
From the Notes of Michael Gamboski
(Eddystone Lighthouse in 1759, after the death of Henry Hall)
Probably the oldest lighthouse keeper was Henry Hall, a keeper on the famous Eddystone Lighthouse, who was 94. He met a remarkable death on duty in 1755. The lighthouse caught fire and, while he tried to put out the fire, he swallowed nearly half a pound of molten lead. He died from lead poisoning about two weeks later.
Chapter Forty-Three
Long Island: Two years ago
Sarah and Derek were having breakfast. Derek had made sunny-side up eggs with toast that Sarah barely tasted. She wasn't eating much these days. A week ago, her brother was thrown from his motorcycle on an L.A. highway and was pronounced dead at the scene. A few days prior to that, her husband of seven years asked her to accept the fact that they wouldn't be having children.
“If you don't eat that, it'll get cold and taste horrid,” Derek said, dipping his toast into the yolk on his plate. “You have to eat, Sarah. Glen wouldn't want you to starve yourself in his memory.”
She looked across at him through teary eyes and wanted to tell him that she wasn't just mourning her brother. She was also mourning the babies she would
never have.
“What if I take a day off today? It's beautiful. We can spend time together at the beach. Would that perk you up a little?”
When they first married, they used to enjoy walking by the beach a few blocks from their home each night after dinner. Occasionally, they even found a private area to make love or saved the passion the waves and sunlight ignited in them for the second they walked through their door. Now, when Derek returned from work, he immersed himself in his study with papers to grade and a beer. She spent more time in her upstairs studio drawing animals for the children's books she illustrated. When they met in bed, there was no spark, and both of them were too tired to care.
“I don't know, Derek. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not ready to go out.”
Derek put down his fork. “Sarah, I know you're depressed, but you can't hide from the world like this. I know you haven't even been drawing. Carolyn's called several times, but you refuse to see her. I want to help you.” He put his hand out to cover hers across the table, but she pulled back.
“What's wrong? It's not only Glen, is it?”
Sarah lowered her eyes away from his dark gaze and nodded. “No, Derek. It's about us. I still want a baby.”
Derek stood and pushed his chair back with a quick motion. “So that's what this is all about? You think I'll feel sorry for you having lost your brother and give in to fertility treatments? Our discussion about that was closed before Glen's accident. If we're meant to be parents, it'll happen, Sarah. I don't want us going through more tests and invasive procedures. I know couples who spent thousands with no results.”
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