Lighthouse on the Lake

by Elizabeth Bromke

  Her final thought was novel—a complaint Amelia didn’t even realize she would have. After all, why would she want the lighthouse? She didn’t. She wouldn’t. What she wanted was a great role in a great town—or city—and some snazzy condo where she could host functions every weekend. Maybe it’d have a little yard for Dobi. Those were her dreams.

  Not a lighthouse on the lake.

  “Hey,” Michael said, interrupting her reverie. Amelia shook her head, her frown lifting as she smiled at him, now confident in her decision to let go and let God. Whatever became of the place was out of her control.

  “Yeah?” she answered, walking nearer to his position at the corner where the dock met the lake and shore.

  “Look.” He pointed a couple of yards offshore along the dock.

  Amelia squinted but shook her head. “What am I looking at?”

  He raised his eyebrows at her, his expression unreadable, then turned in the sand and crossed in front of her and onto the dock, walking steadily.

  “I wouldn’t walk on that,” she pointed out but followed him, anyway.

  He strode a few paces across the worn boards then knelt by a piling and reached beneath the dock.

  Amelia crossed her arms and studied him with suspicion.

  After wiggling his hand around for some moments, he broke it free and revealed a mud-encrusted wristwatch. He held it up, and the sun glinted off its waterlogged face. Amelia did not recognize it immediately. After all, all men wore watches like that—and anyway, it was nearly a relic, like something recovered from a shipwreck.

  Still, her stomach churned, and when Amelia met Michael’s gaze, it was clear they shared the same thought.

  Chapter 14—Kate

  Matt was enthusiastic about assessing the house. So much so that he said he’d be over in the afternoon. This both thrilled and scared Kate. Mostly thrilled her. There was nothing wrong with reconnecting with one’s old friend, or flame for that matter, right?

  After all, enough time had passed since Paul’s death. The kids were out of the house. More or less. Only two little things kept Kate from entirely immersing herself in Birch Harbor and the burgeoning Heirloom Inn: her job and her house.

  Sitting there at the kitchen island, shoeboxes of the past tempting her to dig in and a fresh vase of flowers glowing nearby, a new beginning called to her. So much so that Kate picked her phone back up and made the call of a lifetime, the call that would push her to commit full time to this new phase of life.

  First, when her boss answered, she told him to drop the price on her house as low as possible. Next, she quit.

  As she clicked off the call, Kate’s hands trembled. Just two weeks earlier, her life was in veritable shambles. Her mother had died. The will was a mess of confusion. And the truth about Kate and Clara threatened to change everything.

  Now, that truth had changed everything. It allowed Kate to fulfill a role she’d often longed for. And, the truth and the aftermath of Nora’s death allowed Kate to come home and stay there. Yes, sadness lingered. It always would no matter where Kate threw down a fresh set of roots. But at least she was near Clara. And even Amelia was home, too. Kate felt the burning sensation that would well in the pit of her stomach just before a family vacation when she was a girl.

  One summer, her father and mother took them on a cross-country road trip. Destination? Nowhere. It was all about the journey, Wendell Acton had declared. Kate recalled that their mother wasn’t quite on board with such a venture. Nora was more the type to execute as strict a trip as possible, preferring air travel and lux hotels over long drives and camping.

  The funny thing was, Nora was not a product of moneyed folks. Quite the opposite. Though the Hannigans were some of the earliest settlers to the area, they were known for their gritty work ethic and down-home values far more than flashy lifestyles.

  Sometimes, it seemed to Kate that Nora was trying to run from something. A past of hard work? No. Nora worked as hard as her parents or harder. A past of heartache? Kate didn’t think so. As far as she could tell her mother worked hard, found love, played hard. End of story. But Kate wasn’t blind to the laws of humanity. For every peculiarity that existed in a person’s constitution, there also existed a cause.

  That particular summer, when Nora surprised them all and agreed to go along on a tour of the States, as Wendell began calling it, Kate, Amelia, and Megan bubbled with excitement, dragging pillows and blankets into the backseat of the Volkswagen. Kate had helped her mother in filling two coolers with drinks and snacks and laying out as much of an itinerary as they could manage under the strict orders from their father that they simply “see where the road would take them.”

  The trip wove dutifully through various landmarks, and the girls enjoyed visiting such prominent sites as New York City and all it had to offer, Washington D.C. and its inspiring history, Mount Rushmore, Yosemite, Yellowstone, and even the Grand Canyon. By the time they’d returned home, Nora and Wendell were as reconnected as a married couple could be. Inspired to make the trip again in the future, Kate wondered if her life would change and her parents would get along for good.

  But their arguments continued. Wendell’s preference for the simple life and interest in preservation was no match for Nora’s desperation to be something more than who she was. Their love story may have begun from a passionate (albeit arranged) courtship, but there always seemed to be an underlying current of conflict that drove them into frequent arguments which Kate wished to escape.

  “Kate!”

  Amelia’s voice screeched through the front door. Kate stood from the kitchen island and rushed to the hall, certain she was about to find an emergency on her doorstep.

  But it was Amelia, windblown and thrusting some object out ahead of her. Behind Amelia came Michael, also windblown, looking equally feverish and excited.

  “What is it?” Kate squinted as they crossed to each other and met along the staircase.

  Amelia answered, “Look what we found!”

  Kate opened her hands, and her sister delicately placed a corroded, rust-riddled wristwatch in her hand. She turned it over, careful to avoid scratching her skin. The accessory was in bad condition.

  “Turn it over again. Look at the back,” Amelia prompted with glee.

  Kate did turn it and drew the thing closer to her face. There was clearly some script on the backside, but without her readers, Kate couldn’t make it out to save her life. “What does it say?” she asked.

  Amelia snatched it back and held it up to her face, though Kate had the feeling that whatever was inscribed on the back of the watch had already been committed to her sister’s memory. The younger of the two read aloud without any flourish. “For W. Love N.”

  ***

  Now, they sat around the kitchen table—Kate, Amelia, and Michael. A fresh pitcher of iced tea sat untouched in the center next to a hastily prepped charcuterie board, leftovers of this and that jumbled together as a makeshift appetizer.

  Matt was going to join them, too. Kate had half a mind to cancel on him. Partly, she preferred they meet alone. Then again, she hated to change his plans on him.

  Now, Kate and Amelia were wondering back and forth whether they ought to drag Clara over to share in the discovery. They’d already called Megan, who’d received the news with vague interest.

  “May I interject?” Michael asked politely. Kate watched as Amelia flicked an urgent glance to him. He looked back at her and they shared a small smile. Kate wondered what else happened while they were out at the lighthouse digging around in the sand.

  Since Amelia was too distracted by whatever daydream she was enjoying, Kate answered for the both of them. “Of course, Michael. Go ahead.”

  “Regardless of who you want to inform, it seems there are a couple of notable details.”

  Kate nodded and looked at Amelia, who simply stared at the lawyer.

  He went on. “The first thing concerns your mother’s note about the lighthouse and its ownership. Amelia
thought that perhaps the lighthouse still belongs to the county or even the Coast Guard.” He dipped his chin at her as if to pass along some validation.

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Oh my. I never thought of that. I mean, I haven’t thought much about the place at all, but... wow. Why would our mother write that it would be ours, then?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, shedding some of the authority he naturally emitted. “Maybe she didn’t know but thought to mention it.”

  “Why didn’t she say something while she was still alive?” Amelia snapped out of her daze, her expression growing edgy. She frowned at Kate, who wondered the same thing.

  Nodding, Kate answered helplessly, “I don’t know. I think her confusion was part of the problem. It’s like there was a battle going on inside her—a will to maintain her power and control from the grave and the fight of the good person who lived deeper inside.” Kate swallowed, pushing down a wave of tears. “The one who wanted her daughters to have the world.”

  Amelia reached across the table and grabbed her sister's hand, squeezing and smiling sadly. “Mom always wanted the best for us, Kate.”

  Blinking away pesky tears, Kate nodded. “You’re right.” But something didn’t sit well. Her mother’s secret diary, its difficult revelations, and now a trinket from their father? More than a trinket actually... “Wait a minute. Stay right here.” Kate rose abruptly and jogged upstairs to her bedroom, plucking her reading glasses from her nightstand and jogging back downstairs.

  She slid them on as she approached the table and put her hand out. “Can I see that?” Amelia passed the watch back to Kate who studied it carefully.

  After some moments, she finally shared her findings. “This is the watch that Mom left you in the will, right?”

  Amelia shrugged. “Yes, I assume so, I guess?”

  Kate shook her head. “Why would mom include it if it was out by the lake all these years?”

  Frowning, Amelia glanced to Michael for an answer, but he had none.

  “Maybe,” Kate mused, tapping a finger on her chin and narrowing her eyes on the watch again, “she knew it was missing. Maybe Mom wanted us to find it.”

  ***

  The doorbell rang.

  Kate stood and strode to it, leaving Michael and Amelia on the laptop to conduct a property search and get underway with their new investigation. Kate was growing more and more interested in the mystery of the lighthouse and their father’s timepiece, but she was equally excited to see Matt and talk about the Inn. Her growing list of projects and a newfound energy must have washed ten years from her face, because when she opened the door, clad in worn jeans, a flannel, and a makeup-free face, Matt looked... surprised.

  “Kate,” he gasped as she opened the door.

  Kate flushed, and a broad smile drew her face up in delight at his reaction. “Hi.” A small giggle escaped her lips, and he laughed too.

  “I’m sorry. I just. You look great.” He tried to hide his emotions by taking a step back and pretending to examine the exterior siding on the porch. Kate smiled.

  “Come on in. We’ve been a little sidetracked in here.”

  “We?” he asked. If she didn’t know better, Kate would have thought there was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “Amelia is here with, um, Michael Matuszewski. Do you know him? He handled our mother’s estate.”

  “Yeah, I know Michael,” Matt answered. “I had to work with him on some litigation about one of our flips, actually.”

  Kate stared hard at Matt, waiting for him to report that Michael was too much of a lawyer for his blood, or some sort of comment one might expect from a blue-collar type like Matt. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he dipped his chin at her and frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh,” Kate answered lightly. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear. He and Amelia have sort of... um... teamed up to chase down some information about our father. It’s—” she blinked and pressed a hand to her face in slight embarrassment at what must have looked like compounding family drama. “It’s nothing serious. They just stopped by. Please, Matt, come in.” She stepped aside and waved a hand in. He grinned, nodded his head, and stepped in, taking in the house as if he was seeing it for the first time. Of course, he wasn’t, but he certainly put on a good show. Kate wondered if he was trying a little too hard to play along.

  There was no game afoot, however. She really did need help with the house. It just so happened that her high school sweetheart was the right man for the job, despite their complicated history.

  “Matt, hi!” Amelia beamed from the kitchen as Kate showed him in.

  Michael rose from the table and greeted Matt with a handshake. Kate was reminded of how small a town Birch Harbor was, and it filled her chest with warmth.

  “Matt is going to help me find someone to tackle a few projects around here,” Kate began to explain.

  Michael cleared his throat. “What, is Matt booked?”

  Heat rushed to Kate’s face, and she shot daggers at Michael who shrank back and raised his hands in self-defense. She shook her head and blinked, unsure how to respond.

  For his part, Matt grinned. “I may be booked, but if Kate would have me, I’d love to work on this place.” He ran a hand over his mouth and cocked his head back, staring up at the exposed beams.

  Michael and Amelia excused themselves, Amelia whispering to Kate that they’d come up with a game plan regarding the watch, which Kate had almost entirely forgotten about.

  Their absence and Kate and Matt’s newfound privacy made her skin prickle to life. Matt had been to the house a few times in the last couple weeks. Before she and her sisters unofficially named it the Heirloom Inn, he’d shown up inquiring about its fate. Kate recalled that conversation now, replaying his justification over and again.

  “Matt,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. She cleared it and repeated herself. “Matt.”

  He’d been running his hand along the chair rail that wrapped the breakfast nook. “Yeah?” Licking his lips, Matt retrieved his hand, tucking it into his pocket before giving Kate his full attention. “Kate?” he asked, his eyes shining against the backdrop of the lake through the windows. Kate wondered if it wasn’t the most beautiful view she’d ever enjoyed.

  She swallowed and went on. “You said before that you wanted to make sure the house wasn’t sold off. That you were concerned over Clara, right? You wanted to make sure that between the two of us, Clara would have something.” They locked eyes, and when the name fell from Kate’s lips, Matt’s expression darkened. Maybe this wasn’t the time for such a conversation. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, raising her hand to her temple in regret.

  “Right,” he answered quietly. “But I didn’t know anything,” he added quickly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I didn’t know your mom never officially adopted her. I didn’t know she’d be left out of the will.”

  “Then why were you concerned about it?” An accusatory tone rose in Kate’s voice, but she didn’t mean to make an issue of it. She was genuinely curious. She took a deep breath and lowered herself into a seat at the table, gesturing for him to follow.

  Sitting, Matt copied her, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “After you’d left for college, I came back here. I guess I regretted our decision.” He looked away, out the window, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

  “You regretted allowing my mom to raise Clara?”

  “No. Well... yes. I regretted that we didn’t make a go of it. You know?”

  She conjured the nerve to reach across the table and cover his hand in hers. “Matt,” Kate whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  He jolted a little beneath her touch then met her gaze. “Sorry for what? It was the best decision... I just mean—”

  “No, I agree. What would we have done with a baby? Live in a motel room?” She laughed, but it fell away fast. “I mean I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to stay in town and
not be near her. Clara, I mean. You didn’t get a chance. At least I was here. I had access. You had... nothing.” Kate’s voice broke on the last word. A deep pit of sorrow opened in her chest and from it tears crawled up her throat, constricting it like a kinked hose.

  Matt rubbed his eyes with his free hand then turned the other over, opening his palm to hers and wrapping his fingers around Kate’s.

  The sob in her throat waited there as she studied his hands. Rough like her father’s. Big. Different from what she recalled from their teenage years. More serious, somehow.

  “I guess that’s why I came here to talk to your mom. I wanted to see if she’d be open to letting me meet Clara.”

  “And she said no?” Kate’s frown deepened.

  “Not exactly. She wasn’t cruel, either. Just honest. She reminded me that even you hadn’t asked to renege on the deal. She asked what I would say. What I could offer Clara. She asked what the fallout might be, and she asked if I thought it could affect how Clara saw her world.”

  “And what did you say?” Kate pressed, amazed at this moment of history that she was entirely oblivious to. It made her feel inadequate and useless to know that while she was moving on with her life, poor Matt was back here dwelling on the past. Without her and without any support.

  “I didn’t have the answers. And when I didn’t have the answers, she told me something that I didn’t understand then.”

  “What?” Kate’s voice betrayed a need for urgency.

  Matt cleared his throat. “She said I had better get over it. And she said—and I’ll never forget this, Kate—she said to me that she’d been in my shoes before and that she knew best.”

  “My mother had been in your shoes? What in the world does that mean?” Kate let go of his hand and a chill ran between them. The kitchen door stood open. No breeze swooped in from the screen. Just the warm summer air, hanging outside like a line of wash. She shivered against the fever of what her mother might have been hiding all those years.