Cape Light

by Thomas Kinkade

“Lillian Warwick has never lacked either pride or courage,” Emily said. “It must have been dreadful for her when Father was found guilty. Imagine being raised in a wealthy Boston Brahmin family, marrying for love, and then watching your husband gamble away his fortune and be convicted for embezzlement.”

  “Mother married for love?” Jessica asked. “Our mother?”

  “You never knew that?” Emily replied, sounding surprised.

  “Well, I knew that there had been some falling-out between Mother and her family, and that was why we never saw any of them,” Jessica recalled. “But I guess I never really knew why. Because they didn’t like Father?”

  “They didn’t think he was good enough for her. Despite all of the Warwicks’ money. When she met Father she was already engaged to a man from her family’s social set back in Boston. But she went against her parents’ wishes and married Dad anyway. People say it was love at first sight.”

  “Really?” Jessica asked, astounded.

  “Yes, really,” Emily replied with a laugh. “Hard to imagine, I know. But that’s why she couldn’t leave Cape Light. After Father died, she was too proud to make amends with her family. Of course, they must have heard about the scandal. But as far as I know, they never offered to help, or even tried to contact her.”

  “How do you know all this? Did Mother tell you?” Jessica asked curiously.

  “Of course not.” Emily shook her head. “It’s not the kind of story she’d share with us. You know that. Sophie Potter told me.”

  “How sad,” Jessica said, trying to take it all in. Once she married against her family’s wishes, she was too proud to return to them later when it all fell apart.

  It was so strange, she thought. Here was Lillian disapproving of Sam when she had defied her own parents to follow her heart. You would think she would understand.

  Jessica met her sister’s thoughtful gaze. “Thanks for helping me out yesterday,” she said.

  “Oh, I didn’t do anything, just dragged her off to the car,” Emily said.

  “I don’t know why I even let it bother me so much,” Jessica said. “Sam seems to handle these situations much better than I do.”

  “Yes, he’s really very . . . centered,” Emily said with a nod. “He’s very dignified.”

  Jessica was surprised by her comment, though when she thought about it, she felt the same way. “I wasn’t sure what you thought of him,” she admitted.

  Emily smiled. “I like Sam very much. I’ve always liked him. But I am surprised to see you two together.”

  “We’re not that different,” Jessica heard herself say. “Not as much as you’d think.”

  Her observation surprised her, but once she said it aloud, she knew it was true.

  “So it’s getting serious, then?”

  Why was everyone asking her that question? Was it something in the water around here?

  “No . . . I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Jessica said, twisting the straw in her drink. “Sam and I are just going out. For the summer.” She paused, then added, “There’s this other man I’ve been dating. His name is Paul. We went out a little in the spring, but he’s in the Midwest on business for the summer. We’ve stayed in touch, though. When I get back to Boston, I’m sure I’ll start seeing him again.”

  Emily looked down and took a bite of her salad. “So you like this Paul more than Sam?”

  “Well . . . not better, really.” Jessica sat back, trying to find the right words. “It’s just . . . different. Paul and I have a lot in common. We talk about our work. He has his own consulting firm, financial analysis, reorganizations. That sort of thing. He’s very successful.”

  “Oh, I see.” Emily pushed aside her plate. “Well, maybe that’s just as well, then. If things were more serious with Sam, I think one of you would need to make some serious compromises for it to work out. I can’t really see Sam leaving here to live in the city.”

  “Yes, I know that,” Jessica said quietly. Emily had just offered the exact line of reasoning Jessica had given Sam. But for some reason that Jessica didn’t quite understand, she felt disappointed by it—as if her sister didn’t understand her feelings.

  “I might be wrong,” Emily went on, “but I think you’ve set a course for a certain kind of life. And I don’t think it’s the same life Sam wants.”

  “You don’t think we’d be happy together?”

  “I’m not sure. . . .” Emily glanced at her. “Who can really predict these things? I think Sam is great. But you seem to have doubts, and then there’s this other man in the picture,” she added. From her expression, Jessica thought her sister was really trying to understand. At least that was some consolation.

  Then Emily reached across the table and patted her sister’s hand. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to me. What do I know?”

  What did Emily know? Jessica asked herself. Her sister had very little romantic experience, as far as Jessica could tell, at least lately. It seemed all of Emily’s romantic impulses were played out when she was much younger.

  Jessica knew that when Emily was due to leave for college, she had run off to Maryland and eloped with a young man Lillian disapproved of, a fisherman from a nearby town who was in his early twenties. About a year later Emily’s young husband died in a car accident. Her mother had gone right away when Emily had called for help and soon after brought her home. Far more sedate and dutiful than when she left, Emily went on with her life in Cape Light, almost as if her marriage had never happened. As far as Jessica knew, there had been no serious relationships for her sister ever since.

  So how could Emily really understand how she felt about Sam? Or Paul? Jessica wondered. Then again, Jessica had to admit that she didn’t really understand herself, so how could anyone else?

  As Jessica finished her salad, the two sisters briefly discussed finding new household help for Lillian. “We can take turns helping her until we find a replacement for Molly,” Jessica suggested.

  “I’ll ask Sara Franklin if she can help out,” Emily said. “She’s been coming over to read to Mother a few times a week, and they seem to get along well. Maybe she’ll pitch in temporarily. We’ll pay her, of course.”

  The waiter brought the check and Emily snagged it. “It’s my treat,” she insisted. “You deserve a treat after yesterday. Besides, we don’t get together much. I hope I’ll see more of you before the summer ends. I’ll miss you when you go back to Boston.”

  Jessica was touched by her sister’s admission. Maybe they didn’t understand each other completely, but she did love Emily and felt that Emily loved her.

  “I’ll see you,” Jessica promised. “Don’t worry.”

  SAM FOUGHT BACK A STAB OF IMPATIENCE. HE WAS AT Molly’s house, sitting on the living room floor with Lauren and Jill. They were all watching a nature show on TV while they waited for Molly to return from her errands. Sam couldn’t help it. He simply was not in the mood for watching peregrine falcons build their nests. Besides, he had somewhere he had to be.

  He had just checked his watch for the third time when he heard Molly at the front door.

  “Mom’s home,” he said, jumping up. He went into the kitchen and helped his sister unpack groceries.

  “Want to stay for dinner?” Molly offered. “We’re having tacos.”

  “Not tonight, thanks,” Sam said, grabbing his jacket off the chair. “I’m already late to meet Jessica.”

  “Oh, that again.” Molly turned her back on him as she put a carton of milk in the refrigerator. “You know what they say, if you want to see how a woman is going to turn out, just take a look at her mother. . . .”

  Sam didn’t want to get into an argument, but maybe it was time he did.

  “You’re being unfair,” he said carefully. “Jessica is nothing like her mother.”

  “Oh, really? I think they have the same nose. It’s up in the air,” she mocked. “Way up.”

  Sam felt another stab of impatience. “Oh, come on, you’re being sil
ly now.”

  “Am I?” his sister asked. “Look, I’m sure it’s a thrill to date a Warwick. But you can’t be serious about her, Sam.”

  “What if I am?”

  “You’re an idiot, that’s what. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking. She’s not for you, can’t you see that?”

  “You keep saying that, but you never say why.”

  “I’m worried about you,” Molly told him. “With all the women you could end up with, why her? She’ll never make you happy. Jessica Warwick will always act like she’s above you, too good for you. Too good for anybody, just the way she was in high school.”

  Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Look, I appreciate your concern. But you have no idea of what actually goes on between me and Jessica. You don’t even know her. Except for high school, which was a very long time ago. Are you the same person you were back then?” he asked quietly. He saw his sister’s expression change and knew he’d made a point. “You don’t like it much when people judge you by your past, but you’re doing the same thing to her.”

  “I’m just worried about you,” Molly said, but more gently this time. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I know that,” Sam said, touching his sister’s shoulder. “But can’t you see I’m happy with Jessica? All I’m asking is that you give her a chance.”

  He watched her take a deep breath. “If you say so,” she said reluctantly. “But I’m sure glad I’m not working for that dragon lady mother of hers anymore.”

  Sam laughed. “I’m glad, too,” he said. From the beginning he thought that the combination of Lillian and Molly spelled trouble. “See you later.”

  Just as he started to leave, his nieces ran into the kitchen. “Did you ask Mom about the . . .you know what?” Lauren asked eagerly.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.”

  Molly crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead, spill it. You know how I love surprises.”

  “Jessica’s cat just had kittens. I told the girls I’d ask if you wanted one.”

  “Me? Why would I want a cat? I hate cats.”

  “Please, Mom? Please? We’ll take care of it totally,” Lauren promised.

  “We’ll do everything,” Jill added. “Honest. It can even sleep in our room.”

  “Let’s talk about it later, girls,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks, pal,” she said to Sam.

  As Sam went down the stairs, he heard his nieces begin a new wave of begging. He had a feeling they were going to win this one.

  THE CLEANING CREW HAD CANCELED AGAIN, AND Charlie was stuck at the Clam Box, mopping up. It was after midnight when he finally got home. He expected to find Lucy asleep, but she was sitting up in bed, reading a book.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt. He couldn’t wait to shut his eyes.

  “How are you doing?” Lucy closed her book and put it on the nightstand.

  “I’m beat, that’s how. I should have slept there. It would have added some time in the sack tomorrow morning.”

  “Why don’t you ask Fred to open up?”

  “Fred can’t do breakfast. He’ll mess up everything.”

  Charlie stood up and rubbed his back with both hands, thinking about a hot shower.

  “Listen, Charlie,” Lucy began, “I know you’re tired, but I really need to talk to you about something.”

  He looked down at her. She had that little crease between her eyebrows that came when she got worried or lost her patience with the kids. “Charlie Junior’s teacher call again?”

  “No, nothing like that,” she said. She got up and reached for her robe. “You know those college catalogs you found? Well . . . they don’t belong to Sara. They’re mine.”

  “Yours?” He didn’t get it. “What are you talking about?”

  “I want to go back to school, Charlie. I want to finish my degree and be a nurse.”

  He blinked, wondering if he heard her right. Lucy couldn’t go back to college. What would she do in a college? “Are you crazy?” he finally asked.

  “Now, Charlie, don’t just brush me off like that. I’m serious,” she insisted.

  He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was. But she was kidding herself if she thought he would take this loony idea seriously.

  “What kind of dreamland are you living in, Lucy?” he asked tiredly. “How are you going to go back to school? Did you win the lottery and forget to tell me that, too?”

  “I know it will cost money—”

  “You’re darned right, it will.”

  “—I’ve looked into that, Charlie,” she said calmly. “I can take loans. I’ll pay them back once I’m working.”

  Charlie stared at her and rubbed his face with his hands. Why in heaven’s name did she have to pull this on him tonight? Couldn’t she see the kind of pressure he was under? The police investigating him. His best friend, no less. The diner losing money every day since those blasted Beans came to town. The election coming up, and he had hardly done a thing about it yet.

  “Money is tight now, Lucy. You know that. We can’t take loans for you to go fooling around in college. You’ll never finish, and the whole thing will be a waste of my money,” he said harshly. “If we’re going to take a loan for anything, it will be to pay for my campaign. I have support and I know I can win. That will be doing something for us.”

  “Something for you, you mean.” Lucy folded her arms over her chest, her face red and angry looking.

  She was going to cry any minute, he could tell. He felt sorry for her even, but he couldn’t let on. Not now. The message hadn’t sunk in yet.

  “When I’m mayor, it’s going to be good for our whole family,” he argued. “For pity’s sake, haven’t we been talking about this for years now? It’s my time. I’m going for it. That means I’ll need you to pick up the slack at the diner. And what about the kids? What are they going to do while you’re in college? You have responsibilities here, Lucy. Did you forget that?”

  “Of course, I haven’t forgotten. I wouldn’t be at school every minute. Just for classes,” she explained. “The kids are big now. They can practically take care of themselves. I sent in an application and I was accepted, Charlie. At the community college in Southport. I could start in Sept—”

  “That’s enough!” He put his hands over his ears, feeling fury well up inside. “I don’t want to hear another word about this. No college. You’re not going to college! Understand me?”

  Lucy’s mouth trembled. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem aware that she was crying. “Sometimes I just . . .” She shook her head, then put her hand over her mouth. “I can’t talk to you. I don’t know why I even try,” she said, shaking her head.

  Charlie stared at her, his hands on his hips. Was she giving up now? He hoped he wasn’t going to hear any more about this college nonsense. It was the most insane idea she’d come up with in a long time. She had to see that, didn’t she?

  “Mom? Mommy? . . .” He heard their youngest son calling.

  “It’s Jamie,” Charlie said. “You’d better check on him.”

  Without answering, Lucy turned and walked away from him. She reached into her robe pocket for a tissue and wiped her eyes before entering Jamie’s room.

  “What is it, honey?” She leaned over her son’s bed and put her hand on his forehead. “Do you feel okay?”

  Half-asleep and dressed in his train pajamas, Jamie looked much younger than eight. Out in the world, he was a little man. Right now, he looked almost like a toddler again.

  “I had a bad dream. About a vampire. He was chasing me with his claws.” He lifted his hands in the air to show her.

  “Oh, my, that is scary.” Lucy sat on the edge of the bed and hugged him. She didn’t know why, but she felt like crying again. He probably heard us arguing, she thought. That’s what woke him up.

  “Do you think you could fall back to sleep now?”

  He looked up at her hopefully. “
Can you stay with me a minute?”

  “Sure, I can.” She sat up again and fixed his covers. “I’ll sit right here. You go to sleep now, okay?”

  He rolled over onto his side and curled up in his favorite sleeping position. Lucy knew he’d drop off again in a minute or two.

  She loved her children, more than anything on God’s green earth. She loved being a mother. She was good at it, too. But she felt so bad now—empty and cheated.

  Lucy felt tears welling again and blinked them back. She wanted to do something more with her life than bringing up kids and working at the diner. Charlie was so selfish sometimes. He could only see her a certain way. It just wasn’t fair.

  BLUEFISH WERE RUNNING, AND THE BOSTON RED SOX were only one game behind the first-place New York Yankees. Steadfast fans, like Harry Reilly, woke up knowing that when the day was done, the Sox could be sitting in the number one slot. If they grabbed an early lead and hung on tight, they could make it this year, all the way. He was praying on it, too, as he drove down to the harbor to meet his fishing party—Sam, Digger, and the Reverend Ben.

  The group met at half-past five, soft-spoken and unshaven, ready to fish. They loaded Harry’s boat with their supplies for the day, including three thermoses of coffee, a bag of fried-egg sandwiches, a box of doughnuts, tackle boxes, rods, reels, and buckets of bait. When Sam carried on not one but three foam coolers, Harry looked up at him with a challenging gaze. “What’s that for—in case we wash up on a desert island?”

  “Ice for the catch,” Sam said simply, jumping aboard.

  Harry shook his head and tugged on his cap as he turned toward the stern. “A boatload of optimists,” he muttered to himself.

  “True fisherman always are,” Digger assured him with a wink.

  Harry’s Boston Whaler was outfitted with twin outboard motors, a small cabin with two bunks, and an open cockpit above. It notably didn’t have a fish finder, but Digger vowed he’d find plenty.

  “Your arms will get sore from pulling them in,” he promised.

  “We’ll see,” Harry replied evenly. “The guy who lands the biggest fish buys dinner, right?” he asked as he took the wheel.