“I’m sure she does,” she answered, her face brightening at the reality of her big change.
Previously, she’d dreaded the move. Now, maybe, she ought to embrace it. Maybe more could come from looping with Mercy and her cohorts. After all, it would mean another shot at a parent-teacher conference with Jake, wouldn’t it?
“She’d have told me,” he answered. “We talk about everything.”
“Oh.” Clara twisted the plastic cup in her hand and bit her lower lip. What else had they talked about? Could she have revealed that Clara had no other teacher friends? That she ate canned turkey for lunch and once gave Mercy a C for a reading assignment? Clara blinked away the anxiety. “Was she excited for the bonfire tonight?”
Jake, aloof to Clara’s inner turmoil, nodded and his expression brightened. “Very. She’s found a group of girls and made new friends. I’m so happy for her. The last couple years… well, you know.”
“Yes,” Clara agreed. “She’s sort of… above it all, though, isn’t she? The cliquey middle school stuff and the silliness of her fellow teenagers?” Clara tried to laugh lightly, and he smiled, nodding his head for a moment.
“Not above it,” he replied, his face twisting in thought. “Just outside of it. It used to worry me that she preferred her own company. Now, I realize I should maybe worry about her being on the beach all day and every night.” He grinned and eased back, taking a sip of his drink.
“It’s hard to find a balance,” she offered, thinking as much of her own struggle with that as she was of Mercy’s struggle. The struggle to be social. The struggle not to crawl inside of herself.
“I have a hard time with finding that, too,” Jake admitted.
“You do?” Clara frowned. “You seem so…” she faltered to finish her sentence, but he waited, not correcting her, not cutting her off. He waited, his face open, his eyes soft. It occurred to Clara the only thing she could say in that moment was the truth. She had his attention. Why squander it? “You seem so happy,” she whispered. And he did. He was the opposite of someone struggling to figure out who they were and what they wanted. Each time she’d spied him at the marina, he was smiling and laughing, cracking jokes with tourists and deck hands, boaters and employees from the Village. His effortless polos and khaki shorts… his boat shoes and his dark tan and white teeth… what was there to balance?
“I am happy,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “But some things are missing from my life, you know?” As he said it, he licked his lips and lowered his eyes to her mouth.
The music slowed down to a dull pulse, and Clara sensed a shift in the night—both away from them at the party and there, in the little clearing where they sat, their knees touching, her heart pounding.
The conversation had grown heavy like the air, splitting away from talk of his daughter and her career, and settling between them like a sprig of mistletoe. Balance. Happiness. Whatever it was that was… missing. It was probably the same thing Clara had been missing.
She’d only just arrived at the party, and her goal was just that: to arrive at the party. Whatever happened after her arrival—whether it be helping with the cheesy matchmaking interviews or clearing the tables—she just meant to get out of the house and have a little fun.
And now, just twenty minutes in, she was sitting with a man in an angled set of red chairs, flashes of fireflies—lightning bugs, real ones!—sparking to life around them.
Though awkward and uncomfortable, Clara couldn’t tear her eyes from Jake. She couldn’t search for her sisters, for their approval. She couldn’t study the event to ensure it was going as well as Megan had wanted it to. She didn’t need too, though, because Fireflies in the Field was turning out to be exactly what Megan wanted it to be. What all of the sisters wanted it to be.
There, on the brink of finding something—be it summer love or a two-way crush or whatever in the world Jake Hennings was missing in his life and for some unknown reason was implying that he had found in her… Clara was happy. Giddy happy. In spite of herself, her lack of balance, her inner fears and her outer struggles… Clara Hannigan was happy. And no matter where things might go with that widowed man, who was broken like her, she knew that Labor Day Weekend and all of its Hannigan family drama wasn’t the end of summer.
It was the beginning of Clara’s life.
And just as she was about to prompt him and ask what it was? What was missing? Mr. Jake Hennings leaned across the small space of field beneath them, rested a hand on the white fabric she’d tucked over her trembling knees, and kissed her.
35
Sarah
Somehow, despite visiting the lake several times during the summer over the course of her life, Sarah Stevenson had never once been to a bonfire on the beach. She felt like the star of a nineties movie or something, standing there with a red Solo cup in one hand (just pop! Don’t freak, Mom!) as a tall blaze threw off sparks and heat.
She wouldn’t be the star if it weren’t for her status as Senior New Girl. Typically, people who emerged at a new high school their senior year had something wrong with them. They were army brats or flunkies.
But everyone knew Sarah Stevenson had nothing wrong with her. She was Miss Hannigan’s niece, that’s how. And even though good ol’ Aunt Clara had a reputation as a hard you-know-what, she also had a reputation as the pretty teacher. It was enough to lay the groundwork for Sarah to also be pretty, apparently, because that’s why the tentacles of Birch Harbor High’s girl society slithered their way around her and dragged her under the water with them.
“Sarah!” Vivi squealed as she stumble-tripped through the sand. Little Mercy was at her side, shrinking smaller by the minute in the glow of the fire and against the loud crowd of the pep rally that raged nearby. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she droned dramatically.
Sarah held back her eye roll at the younger pair and flicked a glance to her closer friends, Paige and Chloe. They caught on and tilted their heads synchronously.
There was nothing wrong with Vivi. In fact, she was a total threat. A perfect incoming freshman with Baywatch looks and a hot dad. She’d gone to St. Mary’s on the Island. Literally, there was nothing wrong with her. But Sarah didn’t need freshmen friends. Not as the Senior New Girl, especially.
The night had worn on slowly. It began with a rocky performance courtesy of the Birch Harbor Marching Band, then faded into burgers and s’mores at the grill, then recharged with the current pep rally. In between each little event, most of the kids wandered around, braving to walk along the water despite the principal and football coach blowing a whistle every time one of the students came within four yards of the shoreline.
Now, Vivi and Mercy had found Sarah again. She was happy to be a mentor to the girls, but it was getting a little silly. Sarah was even starting to feel embarrassed to be seen with them all over the place.
She plastered a smile across her mouth and greeted the two littluns. “Hi Viviana. Hi Mercy. Are you two having fun?”
“Totally. Lots of hot guys. Lots of fun,” Vivi replied. “I heard there’s an after party at your aunt’s place,” she went on conspiratorially.
Sarah did a double take. “A what?”
“Yeah, my dad said we could hang out on the beach there.” She threw a pointed finger south across the harbor and to the dimly lit house that hung along Heirloom Cove.
Sarah returned her gaze to Vivi. “Really? I haven’t heard about it.”
“Well, I mean, my dad says we are always welcome to hang out there, you know?”
The marching band had long packed and left. The blazing fire grew stronger, though, to the beat of someone’s Bluetooth speaker as its scratchy bass boomed across the sand. Sarah peered around. The school chaperones were still there. The football players and half the volleyball team, all designated in painted crop tops, were still there, too.
“It doesn’t look like any of them are headed over to the cove,” Sarah pointed out and glanced back at Paige and
Chloe, who just shrugged.
“I’m out,” Paige replied. “We’ve got Mass at eight.”
“Same,” Chloe chimed in, squeezing Sarah’s shoulders and waving to Vivi and Mercy.
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “I see. You two just want to come hang out at the house on the harbor.”
“It’s called the Heirloom Inn now,” Vivi corrected. “Right, Merc?”
The smaller girl shrugged.
Sarah shook her head. “Whatever. Let’s go.” It was better to keep the peace when it came to a delicate relationship like the one she had with Vivi. Even Sarah’s superiority as a senior wouldn’t grant her protection from the likes of a girl such as Viviana Fiorillo.
They checked out with the chaperones and walked down the beach, through the Village with its Saturday night crowds, and across the marina.
Small talk was the only option. If Sarah could bore the girls to death, then maybe they’d finally call their folks to come pick them up and she could get back to the lighthouse and go to sleep. The next week was a big one. Her dad had spilled the beans that they’d all be moving into the two-bedroom at The Bungalows. Sarah was neither excited for this nor disappointed about it. She missed being with her parents, but it’d feel weird to live in an apartment, even if it was a nice one or a family-owned one or whatever. Still, she had the distinct sense that such a home might set her at some kind of disadvantage somehow. It was another reason to keep mum about the whole Clara-Kate thing that her aunts and mom kept dredging up. No point in drawing any negative attention. Not now. Not for the start of the school year. Not when she had so much else on her plate mentally.
“So, what’s it like having a dad who works at the marina?” she asked Mercy.
Mercy just shrugged again. “Cool, I guess. We go out on the lake all the time.”
“He’s got a great boat,” Vivi added, nudging Mercy with her shoulder.
“What do you do? Ski?”
“Um, not always. Lots of time we just look for stuff,” she answered.
Sarah slowed down. They were approaching the private beach behind Heirloom Inn, and she wanted to suss out if any of the guests were on the back porch. As the oldest, it was her job to ensure they weren’t acting like hooligans or trespassers. She tugged her phone from her back pocket and quickly tapped out a text to the group chat with her mom and aunts. At the Inn with Vivi and Mercy FYI.
“Oh, yeah?” Sarah replied. “What kind of stuff?”
“Animals, like different sorts of fish and stuff. Sometimes other things. Like,” Mercy’s energy ramped up a notch. “Did you know there have been, like, dozens of shipwrecks on Lake Huron? My dad was just telling me about that the other day when we found this old pop can that looked like it was from the seventies or something. It was just floating out there in the water, all rusty and old. My dad thinks it probably came up from some shipwreck, but he’s still studying the lake. He knows more about Lake Michigan and Lake Superior.”
“Wow, cool,” Sarah replied, vaguely interested as she confirmed visually that no one was on the back porch. “Okay, we can hang on the porch. I’m too tired to walk the beach anymore.” She hated to shut Mercy down just as the girl was warming up, but it was getting late, and Sarah was getting bored.
The other two followed her up through the low gate at the seawall until they made it to the porch, settling into the sofa and cushioned chairs as Sarah dragged her phone out again and began thumbing through social media.
Vivi and Mercy started chatting about a particularly cute boy they’d noticed at the bonfire, but a new text popped up on Sarah’s phone. On our way there. Fireflies was great!
It was her mom. Sarah silently cursed herself for not asking how it went first. Yay! Way to go, MOM!
Her eyes flitted up to the girls, and she let out a sigh. “Looks like you were right.”
“Right about what?” Vivi’s eyes flashed at the affirmation.
“An after-party. Here. Except it won’t be high school kids. It’s my aunts and their dates, sorry to tell you.” She pouted her lips and cocked her head.
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you’re like related to half of Birch Harbor,” Vivi replied, clearly picking up on Sarah’s attitude.
Sarah let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess. Look, sorry I’m being a little… edgy. I’m just exhausted. We’ve had a lot going on and—”
She was cut off by voices through the window above their heads.
Vivi’s face lit up conspiratorially and she crouched lower on the sofa, drawing a finger to her lips.
36
Kate
They spilled in through the front door, all giggles and stage whispers. Kate and Megan left the boys in the front yard where they’d gotten immediately distracted by some side conversation about the new build.
Megan was glowing from the success of the evening and all but drooling over her prospective house project.
“Can you even believe it, Kate?” she asked as they made it safely into the kitchen where they could talk a little louder, since they weren’t directly beneath the guest rooms. “A house. In the field. Our field, Kate!”
Kate smiled at her little sister, so overcome with happiness for her that her cheeks hurt. “It’s going to be perfect. You know that? Absolutely perfect.”
Megan let out a contented sigh then looked through the window. “Where are the girls?” she looked down at the phone. “Sarah said they were going to hang out here.”
Kate twisted around and craned her neck toward the hall. “Were they in the parlor?”
Megan tapped away on her phone. “I’ll ask. They’d better not be down at the beach.” She walked to the far window, the one behind the kitchen table that looked past the porch and down to the beach. Kate followed her and peered out through the dark glass.
The beach was lit well enough by the dock lights that they could be sure the girls weren’t there. Or if they were, they were in the water. She shuddered.
“Do you remember that story?” Kate asked Megan. “The one about that great aunt Mom had?”
Megan’s eyes grew wide. “Yes. The one who drowned ages ago. Just out there.” Megan pointed her finger. There was no sadness to come of this revelation. Megan didn’t know the aunt. But it was one of those Hannigan stories that splashed through generations, a modern-day cautionary tale akin to Little Red Riding Hood or Goldilocks.
Kate let out a sigh. “People think Mom was possessive of the beach. But she wasn’t. She didn’t care if tourists lounged in the backyard, but she didn’t want them walking on her beach. Not where…”
Megan shook her head and threw the door open, calling loudly across the dark night for her daughter. Kate joined her, stepping onto the porch in time to hear, “Sorry!”
Three little heads peered around the door. Sarah, Vivi, and little Mercy Hennings.
“Girls,” Kate chided. “You scared us to death!”
Megan added, “That was freaky. I instantly thought you had drowned or something.”
“I know, I know. Sorry, Mom,” Sarah replied, unfolding herself from the seat that had been hidden beneath the kitchen sink window. “I’m ready to go home.”
Kate hooked a finger to Vivi and Mercy. “You two come on in. Vivi, your dad is just out front.”
It was the first time Kate had ever addressed Vivi in that way. Like, almost, a stepmom. And as she watched the pretty blonde traipse lithely through the kitchen and out down the hall, she saw something else. She saw what she had lost. Raising a daughter. Whispering over popcorn with a teenager, rearing up the woman who might one day become her very best friend.
She saw it all in Vivi.
And she wondered if maybe… just maybe there could be a chance that she might have that yet.
37
Megan
The three of them loaded up into the SUV like old times. Brian in the driver’s seat, Megan in the passenger, and Sarah in the center of the bench in the second row.
They rehashed the night tog
ether, Sarah and Megan trading highlights. It turned out Sarah’s new best friends were Paige and Chloe, which reassured Megan.
Still, she asked as delicately as she could, “So, what’s up with Vivi and Mercy?”
“What do you mean?” Sarah replied through a yawn as she fell against her seatback.
“Are you, sort of, I don’t know, connecting with them?”
Sarah groaned. “Mom.”
“Sorry!” Megan’s hands flew up in self-defense and she and Brian shared a knowing look. “I’m just wondering.”
“I get it. Vivi is technically… what? My cousin by marriage or something? Half cousin? Whatever, but no. She’s a freshman.”
“Well, let me share my highlight of the night,” Megan interjected, twisting in her seat to share a bit of gossip with her daughter. “Did you know that I made a match tonight?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Ew, Mom. Look, I’m super happy that you two are getting back together or whatever, but just… ew.”
Megan and Brian laughed together, and she replied, “No, no. Not your dad and me. I mean Aunt Clara.”
“I don’t know if you had much of a hand in that,” Brian cut in.
But Megan lifted her palm. “I provided the event, did I not?”
“True,” he bobbed his head from shoulder to shoulder.
“Then there you have it. Being a matchmaker isn’t about assigning boyfriends and girlfriends. It’s about greasing the wheels. Oiling the pot. Sprinkling a little magic.” She turned and winked at Sarah. “Anyway, guess who else showed up?”
“Who?” Sarah asked, her interest clearly piqued by the small-town juice.
“Mercy Hennings’ dad!” Megan revealed.
Sarah didn’t react at first. Then, after a moment, when Megan turned again, about to explain who he was and how he hit it off with Clara, Sarah opened her mouth.
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