“I’ll go and get their things,” Kathleen said, jogging back out to the Toyota.
She retrieved their framed sketch and a bag containing new bathrobes from the Coopers along with some leftovers Jenny had packed for them.
“We’ll be right back,” she said to Blossom.
As she entered the parlor, Louisa was showing Molly something on the tree. She carried the leftovers into the kitchen where Olivia was standing, one hand rubbing her chest.
“Are you all right?”
Olivia straightened. “I’m fine. Just a little indigestion. Ate too much of Jenny’s wonderful cooking.” She reached for the bag. “Speaking of which, I’ll put these in the fridge.”
She quickly put the leftovers in the refrigerator and accompanied Kathleen back to the foyer.
“Merry Christmas,” Louisa said, hugging Molly.
She hugged Kathleen as well. “Merry Christmas, Katie.”
The sisters waved them out into the night, the stars bright overhead.
“We can walk from here,” Kathleen said. “You don’t have to drive us.”
“I don’t mind.” Molly opened the door for her.
Kathleen hesitated a second and then climbed into the passenger seat.
They didn’t speak as Molly drove them to the Halloran cottage. All day long, every time Kathleen had looked in Molly’s direction, she’d caught Molly watching her.
She was aware of a shift in the atmosphere within the SUV. From the corner of her eye, she saw Molly’s hands tightly gripping the wheel. Molly pulled up at the cottage and turned the ignition off. For a moment, they sat there, neither speaking, but then Molly got out to let Blossom jump down from the cargo space. He disappeared into the trees. She retrieved another bag of gifts and walked Kathleen to the house.
For the first time since she’d come here, the little cottage felt empty and lonely. After the warmth and laughter and companionship of the day, Kathleen didn’t want it to end.
On the porch, Molly stepped nearer. Kathleen gazed into her eyes, wishing she could say just how much the day had meant.
“I had a really nice time today,” Kathleen said, but further words were stopped by the crush of Molly’s mouth against hers.
She still held her stocking in one arm, but her other was around Molly’s neck, fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as Kathleen’s mouth opened to meet Molly’s.
Molly pressed Kathleen’s hips against hers, moaning a little into Kathleen’s mouth.
She pulled her mouth away, breathing hard. “If I don’t leave now…”
“Don’t leave,” Kathleen whispered, fumbling for the doorknob.
She pushed the door open, letting Blossom in. Molly shut the door behind them. They shrugged out of their jackets and kicked off their boots. They stood, looking uncertainly at each other. Kathleen reached for Molly’s hand and led her upstairs.
MOONLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH THE window as Kathleen lay with her shoulder pressed against Molly’s.
“That was…” Molly panted.
Kathleen nodded. Her hands clutched the sheet over her chest, but Molly lay with her torso exposed, her other arm flung over her head. Her breasts were beautiful, the nipples dark against the soft skin. Kathleen turned on her side and reached a tentative hand out to run it over Molly’s stomach. The muscles tightened and quivered at her touch.
“I can honestly say I’ve never felt anything like that,” Kathleen murmured.
Molly shifted her arm to slide it under Kathleen’s head, pulling her close and cradling her. “I can say the same.”
Kathleen snuggled into the crook of Molly’s neck, inhaling her scent. She felt Molly kiss her hair. For a long time, they lay like that.
“You really don’t know how much today meant to me,” Kathleen said softly.
Molly squeezed. “I’m so glad you were with us.”
“I noticed Aidan didn’t have anything to drink.”
“You know, I don’t think he’s had anything to drink since your little escapade on the beach. I know it’s only been four days, but something feels different. As if he’s completely with us. He hasn’t been for a long time.”
Kathleen’s arm rose and fell with Molly’s breathing. “I think part of him wished he’d died that day.”
Molly’s arm tightened around her. “I know.”
Kathleen felt her hesitation.
“Do you?” Molly asked. “Is that what happened the other night?”
Under her arm, Kathleen felt the quickening of Molly’s heartbeat. “It wasn’t me.”
Molly waited.
“I told him what my mother said. After.”
“What was that?” Molly whispered.
Kathleen swallowed. It seemed easier to say, lying here in the protection of Molly’s arms. “She asked why it couldn’t have been me.”
Molly’s sharp intake of breath was her only reaction.
“I had never told anyone about that, until I told Aidan,” Kathleen said.
Molly wrapped her other arm around Kathleen, holding her tightly. She kissed Kathleen’s forehead, her nose, her eyes—tender, feather-light kisses. Kathleen raised her face to meet Molly’s lips, open, ready to pull her in. She wanted this to go on forever.
Molly shifted onto her elbow, looking down at Kathleen in the moonlight. She tried to pull the sheet down, but Kathleen held on.
“Why are you hiding your body?” Molly stroked Kathleen’s cheek, down her neck, to gently, but firmly, pull the sheet away, exposing Kathleen’s breasts. “Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”
She bent to take one nipple in her mouth. Kathleen couldn’t hold back a groan at the exquisite sensations. Molly shifted to lie on top of her, all warmth and softness. So much softness. Kathleen felt she would never get enough of this.
“So beautiful,” Molly murmured, lowering her mouth to Kathleen’s.
THE HARSH JANGLE OF the telephone jolted Molly out of bed. Confused for a moment as to where she was and why she was naked, she remembered as Kathleen sat up also.
Kathleen reached for some clothes while Molly scrambled to find hers.
“Jesus, it’s cold.”
“I know.” Kathleen glanced over her shoulder. “I usually sleep with socks.”
Molly grinned, pausing as she balanced on one foot to pull her jeans on. “That would have been practical, but not very sexy.”
She saw the blush on Kathleen’s cheek as she turned away. Molly got her other foot in her jeans leg and tugged them up.
Outside, they heard a vehicle pull up. Blossom barked from the hall. Kathleen shoved her glasses on her face and went to the window to part the curtain.
“It’s your dad.”
Molly froze for a second with her arms tangled in her T-shirt. “Something’s wrong.” She wrenched the shirt over her head and grabbed her socks, jamming her feet into them.
Without waiting for Kathleen, she ran for the stairs, nearly tripping over Blossom. They both raced down the steps to where Joe was banging on the front door.
Molly yanked it open. “What is it?”
“Olivia. We need you.”
His eyes moved past her to where Kathleen was coming down the stairs. “Both of you.”
He sprinted back to his truck, leaving them to follow. Molly tossed Kathleen her boots. They both sat on the steps to yank them on. Grabbing their jackets, they ran to the Toyota. Blossom jumped into the back seat.
“What must he think?” Kathleen said, her face a furious pink.
Molly gave her a sideways glance. “I think they all know what to think.” She pointed to the glove compartment as she shifted into reverse. “There’s some gum in there. That’s the best we’re going to do this morning.”
Kathleen found the gum and unwrapped a piece for Molly.
Molly drove as quickly as she dared, the Toyota fishtailing a little in the snow. Almost a dozen other SUVs and trucks and snowmobiles were already parked at the Woodhouse place. Molly skidded to a stop a
nd slammed the gearshift into park. She and Kathleen ran to the house, Blossom on their heels.
Jenny was waiting for them, tears running down her cheeks. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean?” Molly grabbed her mother’s shoulders. “Who’s gone?”
“Olivia. Louisa heard her this morning. In the kitchen. Her coffee cup crashed, and she went down. When Louisa got to her, she was already dead.”
Kathleen gave a little gasp. “Last night!”
“What?” Molly turned to her.
Kathleen looked stricken. “When we dropped them off. Olivia was in the kitchen, holding her chest. She said it was indigestion from too much food.” She closed her eyes. “I should have said something. Done something.”
Jenny hugged her. “There was nothing you could have done.”
“But—”
“We don’t have any kind of hospital,” Molly said quietly. “No way to resuscitate. If she had a massive heart attack…”
“It’s part of living here,” Jenny said gently. “We all understand that. One bad accident or something like this. It’s just the way of things.”
Molly went into the kitchen where Olivia lay, still wrapped in her flannel robe, her fuzzy slippers on her feet, her eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. Louisa sat at the table, cradling the box of ashes, her face pale and expressionless.
Molly crouched next to her, laying a hand on her arm. “Miss Louisa,” she said softly, “I have to fill out the death report, and I’ll need a statement from you. Later, okay?”
Louisa nodded numbly.
Molly got to her feet and went to Kathleen. “Stay with her, will you? I have to go get the papers.”
Kathleen pulled a chair over to sit next to Louisa as Joe produced a sheet from somewhere and tenderly laid it over Olivia’s body.
Molly went to her father and the others gathered around Olivia’s still form. “I’ve got to go get stuff from the office,” she said in a low voice. “You and Mom will stay?”
Joe nodded. “Yeah.”
They both glanced back to where Kathleen sat with one arm wrapped around Louisa’s frail shoulders.
“I’ll call the state officials. Be back as soon as I can.”
THE REST OF THE DAY was kind of a blur—for Kathleen and, she was sure, for Louisa, as well. The army stretcher was brought again. Kathleen’s eyes filled with tears, remembering how Olivia and Louisa had helped cook up the conspiracy to get Susannah off the island.
“Where are you taking her?” she asked Rebecca in a low voice as they prepared to move the body. “Does the island have a funeral home?”
“No.” Rebecca’s retort was sharp, but then she said more gently, “We don’t do funeral homes. We don’t embalm or do anything artificial.”
She took Kathleen by the arm and led her out to the parlor. “Mr. Woodhouse knew his girls would feel adrift without him. They’ve all made the decision to be cremated, and have part of their ashes interred in our cemetery, part dispersed into the sea.”
Kathleen watched Joe and the boys carry the sheet-draped stretcher out the door. “But then where are they taking her?”
“The weather is turning,” Rebecca said. “As soon as we can, we’ll take her to the mainland to be cremated. In the meantime, she’ll be in a wood casket in the storehouse at the cemetery. Even if she wanted to be buried, we can’t do it now. Ground’s frozen. Any funeral on the island has to wait until spring. There’ve been years past we’ve lost ten or twelve. When disease swept through us. Hasn’t happened since my great-grandmother’s time.”
Kathleen sank down onto an ottoman, her shoulders shaking.
“Why are you crying?” Rebecca asked, sitting on the chair beside her.
“Sh-she’s alone now,” Kathleen stuttered between sobs. “Louisa.”
“She’s never alone. You should know that by now. She’ll have all of us.”
Kathleen hiccupped as she raised tear-filled eyes to Rebecca. “It won’t be the same.”
“No, it won’t. Nothing stays the same for very long. Stop crying now.”
Kathleen wiped her eyes and put her glasses back on. “I can’t help thinking of Nanna. How lonely she must have been all those years.”
Rebecca nodded. “It was hard for her, not seeing any of you again. But she knew.”
Kathleen sniffed. “Knew what?”
“Life is drawn to life. Like you and Molly. You should know that.”
“What do you mean?” Kathleen pulled away.
Rebecca simply looked at her for a long moment. “Life force is a kind of energy. Some energies are drawn to one another. You and Molly have been drifting toward each other, no matter how hard you both fought it. Bryan and Olivia were drawn to whatever lies beyond. There are some forces we can’t resist.”
Kathleen stared at her hands, tightly clenched in her lap. “You really believe that?”
“Don’t you?”
Rebecca got up and went back to the kitchen.
Kathleen frowned after her. The house suddenly felt stifling, as if all the air had been sucked out of it. She called softly to Blossom, who was curled under the piano bench, out of everyone’s way. They walked back, passing other cars and trucks, all on their way to the Woodhouse home. She waved vacantly, unable to shake the sadness that Louisa had lost her sister, her lifelong companion, thinking how empty that rambling house would feel now.
Back at the cottage, she went upstairs. The tousled sheets reminded her of the joy and wonder of the night she’d spent in Molly’s arms. It seemed ages ago. She made the bed and showered, changing into clean jeans and T-shirt. As she headed back downstairs, she grabbed a thick fleece for warmth.
Her stomach growled, and she remembered none of them had had breakfast. She fed Blossom and made herself a piece of toast. Sitting at the table, she stared at the marmalade she’d spread on the bread. It felt wrong somehow to be feeding her body when Olivia’s was lying in a cold storehouse in the cemetery.
She had no idea when she’d see Molly again. She knew she had a lot of official things to deal with to report a death on the island. Kathleen forced herself to keep moving. She cried softly as she dusted and ran the vacuum, which Blossom barked at as if it were attacking the house. She cried as she did laundry and scrubbed the kitchen floor and stacked more firewood on the back porch.
Briefly, she considered turning her computer on and checking her email, but there was no one she really wanted to hear from. Or not hear from, she figured would probably be more accurate. She doubted she’d received warm and fuzzy Christmas messages from her parents or Susannah, but she hadn’t sent any, either.
Finally, exhausted, drained, cried out, she fell into her chair as dusk descended outside. The weather Rebecca had spoken of had arrived with swirling snow and gusting winds.
She was just wondering what to fix for dinner when headlights swept up the drive, beaming through the front windows. She went to the door to find Molly getting out of the SUV.
Wordlessly, Molly came in and wrapped her arms around Kathleen, holding her tightly. For long minutes, they stood like that.
“Are you all right?” Kathleen whispered.
“Yes. It’s just been a tough day. Not the way I pictured our first morning together.”
“No.” Kathleen pulled away, turned away. “I’m sorry.”
Molly came around to face Kathleen. “Why are you sorry?”
“Your father.” Kathleen waved her hands in the air. “Finding us like that. Your family must be upset.”
“Why would my family be upset that I’ve found someone I—” Molly shuffled her feet. “Someone I care about.”
Kathleen stared hard at her, demanding the truth. “They’re not angry? At me? With you?”
“They’re not angry.” Molly held her right hand up. “Honest Injun.”
Kathleen grinned reluctantly.
“Don’t tell Rebecca I said that.” Molly glanced around the house. “Are you ready?”
“Ready f
or what?”
“The wake.”
“What wake? What are you talking about?”
Molly angled her head. “The entire island will gather tonight. Down the diner. People have been bringing food all day.”
The only funeral Kathleen had ever been to was Bryan’s, and it had been horrible. Her parents had been a wreck, especially her mother. All of their friends and neighbors and country club acquaintances had come, everyone saying how tragic it all was. Kathleen’s memories consisted of being left alone, sitting in a corner, while Bryan’s body lay in an open casket on the other side of the room.
“People are celebrating Olivia’s death?” she asked, aghast.
“No.” Molly smiled. “We’re celebrating her life. Bring something happy that reminds you of her.”
WHAT THE ISLANDERS CALLED “weather”, Kathleen called a blizzard. She didn’t even attempt driving as the snow swirled so densely that she couldn’t see her car from the front porch. The gusting winds whistled and moaned through the trees. Blossom went out only long enough to relieve himself and then hopped through the deepening snow to come back inside.
“Bet you don’t miss being out in this, do you?” Kathleen asked as she toweled him off.
The cottage was dark, as a perpetual twilight settled over the island.
Molly had warned her that they might have to cycle the available electricity—turning it off a few hours at a time in clusters of houses around the island. She kept her computer turned off, saving her electricity for the thermostat to keep the furnace running, and the ancient refrigerator, chugging along in the kitchen. And the slow cooker.
She chopped up potatoes, carrots, turnips, celery. In a separate pan, she stirred in a little tomato paste and a bottle of Guinness along with the chunks of beef she’d browned with a bit of flour. Adding it all to the cooker with some broth and seasonings, she set the cooker on high.
“How did I survive without one of these before?” she asked Blossom.
Before.
Her life was firmly divided into Before Island and After Island. There had been no transition, no gradual move, and she found she didn’t miss anything from her old life. She hadn’t asked Susannah if she intended to stay in the apartment, but she assumed she would. The lease was in her name only. Susannah had never been willing to co-own anything in case her father asked too many questions. No buying a house together. No having a car titled in both their names. And no question, ever, of getting married once it became legal.
When the Stars Sang Page 18