When the Stars Sang

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When the Stars Sang Page 12

by Caren J. Werlinger


  Kathleen found herself breathing hard considering she wasn’t doing anything but standing there. Her jaw worked back and forth for a moment. “I was too afraid to go against you, to come without you.”

  Susannah nodded slowly. “So you’re blaming me?”

  “No.” Kathleen released the breath she’d been holding. “I’m blaming me. For being too afraid to start an argument. With you or my father. For hiding behind that all the years I never came to see my grandmother before she died.”

  Susannah opened her mouth, but just then, another car pulled into the driveway with a honk of the horn.

  Kathleen went to the front door to find Wilma reaching into the trunk of her car and retrieving…

  “A slow cooker,” Kathleen said with a smile.

  “Yoo-hoo,” Wilma called.

  Kathleen stepped onto the porch as Wilma climbed the steps. Blossom’s back end wagged in greeting.

  “Katie, Nels is trying a new recipe, and I heard you had unexpected company,” Wilma said as she pushed past Kathleen into the cottage. “Oh, hello, dear,” she said to Susannah. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?”

  She walked past Susannah into the kitchen. “Land sakes, I completely forgot. Katie, there’s a basket of rolls in the back seat. You go get that, and I’ll dish out some of this stew.”

  “We don’t want stew,” Susannah said, but Kathleen was already jogging out to Wilma’s car.

  Behind her, she heard Wilma saying, “Oh, tut. It’s a bit early for supper, but you haven’t had my Nels’s seafood stew. Best cook in Maine, he is.”

  When she came back inside with the rolls—Blossom followed her and made a dash for the safety of the dining table—Susannah glared at her. As Kathleen sailed by her toward the kitchen, she realized how that glare would have cowed her once upon a time.

  “Here are the rolls, Wilma. Oh, that stew smells wonderful.”

  Wilma, who obviously knew her way around the kitchen, was getting three bowls down from the cupboard. “I knew you didn’t have time to prepare anything for your guest.”

  She pointed to another cupboard and said to Susannah, “Would you be a dear and get three glasses down?”

  Susannah hesitated, and Kathleen knew she was waiting for her to send Wilma home. Instead, Kathleen said, “I’ll get bread plates and butter.”

  Left with no choice, Susannah poured three glasses of water and set them on the table where Wilma was settling herself into a chair with the aromatic bowls of stew.

  “It’s freezing in here,” Susannah complained as she dropped into a chair.

  “I’m fine,” Kathleen said, tugging on the collar of the shawl sweater she wore.

  “Got to dress warm in November, dear,” Wilma said cheerily. “We’re not in Florida.”

  She turned to Kathleen. “Now tell me if you think it needs anything. We’re thinking of putting it on the menu and want to make sure it’s right.”

  Kathleen took a few bites, ignoring the harsh vibes almost bouncing off her from Susannah’s direction. “I think it could use a bit more pepper and maybe not so much onion. What do you think?”

  Wilma smacked her lips as she took another spoonful. “I think you may be right.”

  She chatted merrily as they ate, trying to draw Susannah into the conversation. Susannah grudgingly answered Wilma’s questions.

  When they were done eating, Wilma carried the bowls to the sink. “Nels will be delighted to hear you liked it. I’ll leave you two to visit now. You don’t have long, after all.”

  “What does that mean?” Susannah demanded.

  “Well the ferry will be leaving at three, won’t it?” Wilma said with a chuckle.

  “So? I can catch another ferry in a few days,” Susannah said.

  “There won’t be another ferry for a month,” Kathleen said.

  “What?”

  “How did you happen to catch it today?” Kathleen asked.

  “I just called to make a reservation, and they said they had tickets for today. I assumed the other days were booked.”

  Kathleen left Susannah standing there, her mouth hanging open, to walk Wilma out the door. Wilma turned to her, placing her hands on either side of Kathleen’s face. Without speaking, she gazed into Kathleen’s eyes for a moment before giving her a tight hug.

  Kathleen felt the tension leave her shoulders as she waved goodbye to Wilma and turned to go back inside.

  A FIRE CRACKLED IN the grate. Kathleen had pulled the overstuffed chair and Nanna’s rocker closer to its warmth. Blossom remained curled up under the dining table, watching them from behind the protection of the chair legs.

  “You know I didn’t mean the things I said,” Susannah said, her voice choked with tears.

  Kathleen kept her eyes glued on the flames. Don’t look at her. Don’t, don’t, don’t… How many times had Susannah said that over the years? And how many times had Kathleen said, “I know you didn’t.” But not anymore.

  “Then why did you say them?” she asked.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Susannah stiffen, and she knew that simple question had signaled a change in how this was going to work.

  “You know how my family makes me crazy,” Susannah said.

  “I do.” Kathleen leaned forward and poked the logs, sending showers of sparks up the flue. “When I met you, I thought I could take that away. I thought I could make up for what you need that they don’t give you, but I can’t. No one can.”

  “What does that mean?”

  There were no tears now, no catch in Susannah’s voice.

  Kathleen had no desire to hurt her, even after everything that had happened between them. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look Susannah in the eye. “Your father does make you crazy. Your whole family does. We’re thirty-four now. It’s time for you to stop using them as an excuse. Obviously, no matter how much I loved you, it wasn’t enough. You need to get counseling, Susannah. Or don’t. Let them continue to yank you around. But either way, you’re going to have to do it without me. I can’t continue to be someone you’re ashamed of.”

  Susannah stared at her, and Kathleen saw the emotions—the surprise, the disbelief—parading through her mind, reflected in her eyes.

  “Kath, you can’t mean that. I love you.”

  She shifted and came to kneel in front of the rocker, her hands on Kathleen’s knees. A smile tugged on one corner of her mouth—that half-smile that had always melted Kathleen’s heart.

  “I know you love me back.” Susannah reached up to caress Kathleen’s cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you. You know how much you mean to me. We can’t throw fourteen years away. Please come back. I can’t live without you.”

  Kathleen looked into her eyes and, just for a moment, tried to imagine what it would be like to go back.

  From the dining room, Blossom whined. She turned to him as the mantel clock chimed two o’clock, and she knew the answer. Just as she opened her mouth, the telephone rang.

  Susannah placed both hands on the arms of the rocking chair, blocking Kathleen in. “Let it ring.”

  A month ago, she would have, Kathleen realized. A month ago, I’d already be packing. The telephone shrilled insistently. She slid the rocker back, almost making Susannah fall as she lost her balance. Kathleen pushed to her feet and went into the kitchen.

  “Hello?” She frowned. “Slow down. Miss Louisa, tell me again, what happened?”

  After listening to a garbled account, she said, “I’ll be right there.”

  She slammed the handset on the hook. “I have to go.”

  Susannah gaped. “What do you mean, you have to go?”

  “Someone is hurt. I have to go.” Kathleen snatched a jacket from a hook near the door. “You’re welcome to wait here until it’s time to go to the ferry.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Susannah said mulishly, her hands on her hips.

  “Suit yourself.” Kathleen patted her thigh, and Blossom came scrambling from between the dining c
hairs to bound out the front door.

  “Wait for me!”

  Susannah followed her out onto the porch, pulling her own coat on. She opened the passenger door of Kathleen’s car and got in. Kathleen maneuvered around Susannah’s Lexus and drove as quickly as she could to the Woodhouse sisters’ home.

  She skidded to a stop in the drive. Blossom jumped out of the back seat, and Kathleen ran to the front door, leaving Susannah to follow. Louisa met her on the porch, wringing her hands.

  “Oh, Katie, thank you for coming,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Right in here.” Louisa trotted ahead, taking her by the hand and pulling her into the living room where Olivia was lying on the sofa, her arms wrapped around her ribs, groaning. Blossom whined softly and gave her leg a tiny lick.

  “What happened?”

  “Ollie was on a ladder,” Louisa said. “I’ve told her time and again, we’re too old for that nonsense. But she was on the ladder and missed a step coming down. She fell ten feet.”

  “It was not ten feet,” Olivia gasped through gritted teeth. “Maybe six.”

  “Have you called anyone else?” Kathleen asked, kneeling next to the couch, her hands hovering, unsure what to do or where it was safe to touch.

  “Well, I called Molly,” Louisa said. “She is the sheriff, but she was out somewhere. So I called you.”

  “She probably broke some ribs.”

  They all turned to Susannah, who stood there watching.

  “This is Susannah,” Kathleen said absently. “She’s right. We need to get you to a hospital.”

  “No, no hospital,” Olivia panted.

  Kathleen took her hand. “You might have internal bleeding. You have to be examined by a doctor.”

  She stood and turned to Louisa. “We’ll need help to get her to the marina.”

  IT SEEMED HALF THE island had crowded into the sisters’ living room. Everyone was talking at once as the islanders milled around. Little Sister didn’t have anything that resembled an ambulance, but they did have a stretcher. It looked to Kathleen as if it was World War II vintage—olive-green canvas stretched between wooden poles. Someone had padded it with several blankets. They set it on the floor, and the four Cooper men gathered around Olivia to lower her to the stretcher. She let out a cry as they moved her.

  Wilma stood with her arm wrapped around Louisa’s shoulders as she dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.

  “This place is like something out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie,” Susannah said in an undertone to Kathleen. “No hospital, no way to get help. You have got to get out of here.”

  Kathleen moved away to help cover Olivia with more blankets.

  “Boys,” Joe said.

  Aidan, Matty, and Joey joined him at the four corners of the stretcher. Together, they picked it up and carried it outdoors to the bed of a pickup that Tim Shannahan had backed up to the porch. They eased the stretcher as gently as they could into the truck. Olivia let out another cry of pain. Joe and Aidan climbed into the bed with her as Tim maneuvered his way out of the drive.

  “Katie.” Louisa came to her. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but would you come with me? I have to go with her, but I don’t want to go alone.”

  Kathleen took her hand. “Of course, but wouldn’t you rather…” She glanced toward Wilma and Jenny, who had their heads together with Rebecca. Something was odd.

  Louisa squeezed her hand. “Please.”

  “Let me put a few things together,” Kathleen said. “I’ll meet you at the marina.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Louisa gave her a watery smile.

  The only person Kathleen hadn’t seen was Molly. She didn’t want to think about why that disappointed her so much.

  Susannah followed her out the door to where she had parked. She called for Blossom, but he was nowhere to be found.

  She had to wait for a few people to move their cars before she could drive back to the cottage.

  “This is for the best,” Susannah was saying. “We’ll get back to civilization, and things will get back to normal. You’ll see.”

  Kathleen felt cold and empty as she packed a small bag with a few things: a change of clothes and undies, pajamas, bathroom items.

  She checked that her wallet was in her purse before she powered off all of her computers and monitors. In the kitchen, Blossom’s food bowl sat. She filled it to overflowing and put it and his water dish on the back porch, along with his bed, hoping he’d be okay until she came back.

  Are you coming back?

  That thought hit her like a freight train. She felt she was caught in some kind of undertow that was pulling her away from her life here, dragging her away no matter how hard she fought the current.

  “I’ll drive us to the marina,” Susannah said. She came to Kathleen and kissed her gently. “You’ll see how much better things will be once we’re away from here.”

  Kathleen’s throat was tight as she locked the cottage and followed Susannah to her Lexus. She scanned the bushes and trees in the gathering dusk, looking for any sign of Blossom, but there was nothing.

  She didn’t say anything as Susannah drove back into town to where the ferry idled, waiting.

  Fred was there, waving Susannah on board, guiding her to a parking place in between two large crates.

  Kathleen got out of the car.

  “Katie, Bobby said Miss Olivia is askin’ for you,” Fred said loudly, pointing to the pilothouse. “Bring your things with you,” he added in a whisper.

  “Miss,” he said to Susannah as she also got out. “I need to have you move just a little further forward. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Susannah frowned at him, but Kathleen pulled her purse and bag out of the back seat and left them to go find Bobby. He met her at the ferry’s cabin.

  “Where’s Miss Olivia?” she asked, looking at the completely empty cabin where she’d expected to find Olivia’s stretcher.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, Katie,” he said, grinning at her. He put a fatherly arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the gangplank.

  “But…” She stopped, pointing back at the ferry. “Miss Olivia…”

  “Is waiting for you.” He nodded toward the wharf, where Olivia stood with Louisa, Jenny, Wilma and Nels in his apron, Tim and Miranda, Rebecca, the Cooper boys—nearly everyone she knew on the island.

  “But…” she said again.

  “You’d best get going. This ferry’s already over an hour late. I’m shoving off and won’t be back for a month.”

  He gave her a gentle push. She trotted over the gangplank to the wharf. Joe pulled the gangplank as the ferry tooted its horn and began to chug away. Fred waved from the deck. Susannah appeared, and even from this distance, Kathleen could see the fury on her face.

  She turned to Louisa and Olivia. “How…? Aren’t you hurt?”

  “Not a bit,” Olivia said.

  Kathleen stood with her mouth open. She looked from one of them to another. “You made it all up? Why would you do that?”

  Rebecca gave her a cryptic smile. “You’re one of ours now. We’re not going to let you go without a fight.”

  People clapped her on the shoulders or gave her hugs. At the back of the crowd, she saw Molly watching her. For a moment, everyone else disappeared as they locked eyes.

  “I think we all need to celebrate,” Wilma said loudly. “Everyone come to the diner. Pie’s on us!”

  Kathleen paused to look back at the ferry as it chugged away. She knew she hadn’t heard the end of this.

  Louisa hooked her arm through Kathleen’s. “Come with us, Katie.”

  Chapter 9

  FROM HIS BED, BLOSSOM lifted his head at a particularly loud gust of wind that rattled the windows.

  “It’s okay,” Kathleen murmured from her chair where she was sketching him. “You don’t have to live in that anymore.”

  He looked at her, and she could have sworn he under
stood her. With a contented sigh, he curled up again.

  She gazed out the window at the gray day. Turbulent clouds rolled across the sky, blocking all sunlight. It was only two in the afternoon, but it could have been five, it was so dark. She had a roast in the slow cooker with potatoes and carrots. The aroma was already spreading through the house. She set aside her sketchpad and pencil.

  “Want to go for a walk before the rain gets here?”

  Blossom was up in an instant, waiting for her to pull on a jacket and hat. Outside, he chose the trail that led down to the beach, and Kathleen willingly followed.

  The wind tore the few remaining leaves from trees as the gusts whistled through the branches. Over it all, she heard the crashing of the sea.

  At the bottom of the trail, there was no beach. The tide was up, and the waves were washing all the way up to the rocky sea wall. Out on the ocean, whitecaps rolled and spray flew.

  Blossom chased gulls as they hopped around in the surf when the waves retreated, looking for anything edible in the foam. Kathleen stood watching them, warm inside despite the cold gale.

  “You’re one of ours now,” Rebecca had said.

  She hadn’t felt that sense of belonging since she was ten years old. She’d come to realize over these past weeks that she could have had that long ago if she’d returned back here, back to Nanna. But she hadn’t. Somehow, she had to find a way to live with that.

  Blossom stopped, his ears forward, staring at something farther down the sea wall.

  A figure stumbled over the rocks, falling to hands and knees in the surf. From the way his head was hanging, he appeared to be getting sick. Whoever it was sank back onto his haunches, raising his face to the sky, and Kathleen realized it was Aidan.

  She stood for a minute, trying to decide if she should go to him, but she saw Molly clambering over the rocks. She knelt in the surf beside him, one arm around his shoulders. His head was hanging and his shoulders shook. Molly bent near, apparently talking to him. He shook his head and tried to push her away, but he toppled over just as a wave washed over him. She helped him to his hands and knees as he coughed. She stood and hauled him to his feet. With his arm draped over her shoulders and her arm around his waist, she helped him back over the rocks to her SUV and got him inside. As she came around to the driver’s side, she saw Kathleen and stopped.

 

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