Summer Beach Reads

by Thayer, Nancy

  They walked in watchful silence as they passed the houses next to the Bracebridge home. Lights were on all up and down the street, but Emma had done some research and she knew all the people in this neighborhood were older. Not as old as Millicent Bracebridge, but up there in their sixties. Probably all seated in front of the television set now, or reading.

  Millicent Bracebridge would be in bed, asleep. Millicent was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of gal. Her home health nurse, Patty LaFleur, would be tucked away in bed right across the hall from Millicent, with both doors open so she could hear Millicent if she called. Patty had a small TV on a stand near her bed that she watched with the volume turned low so it wouldn’t bother the older woman; it would be just loud enough, Emma thought, to cover the sounds she and Marina would make.

  She and Marina had discussed and planned every step. Now they walked toward the Bracebridge house at a normal pace, as if they belonged there, not skulking or sneaking up the brick path. Emma had a key.

  Emma turned the key in the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside. Marina followed.

  Emma shut the door and the two women stood still for a moment, listening. They could hear a slight ripple of TV laughter from the second floor. No other sounds. No lights were on downstairs, although the green light from the microwave clock shone at the end of the hall.

  As silently as possible, they crept into the living room. Marina had agreed to follow Emma closely, because Emma knew how to make it through the crowded room without bumping into one of the antiques. The difficulty with smuggling the baskets was that they were large and stiff and bulky. Emma could carry three at one time. Marina could carry the others and they’d be in and out of there in one trip. Plus, Emma was glad for the moral support.

  Streetlight and starlight fell through the window onto the far end of the room where the baskets were lined on the sill.

  Emma walked toward them, picked up the first one, and slid it over Marina’s outstretched arm. She put the next one on Marina’s other arm, and gave Marina a basket to hold in each hand. Then she slipped two of the smaller baskets on her left arm and held the smallest basket in her left hand. She kept a hand free for the front door.

  She and Marina carefully traded places so that Emma could walk in front of Marina.

  The baskets made a clicking noise as they bumped together on Marina’s arm. Both women stopped. Emma turned and adjusted the baskets. They walked.

  They stopped for a moment in the hall. Without needing to speak, of one accord, they held their breath and listened for any sign of commotion upstairs. Footsteps? No. A voice calling out? No. Good. They were almost halfway through with their mission. After Sheila evaluated the baskets, they would have to sneak them back into the house.

  Emma could see Marina’s eyes shining in the darkness. She nodded once. She opened the front door. They stepped outside. With infinite care, Emma pulled the heavy front door closed.

  They hurried quickly down the slate path to the street. Everything seemed peaceful—except a car was approaching. They stepped off the street and onto the grass to let it pass.

  But instead of passing, the car stopped alongside the two women.

  It was a police car.

  “Miss?” A police officer got out of the car and stood next to Emma. He shone a light in her face. “What do you have there?”

  40

  Lily

  The August night was muggy, but inside the Debenham house the air was cool, dry, and scented with hundreds of flowers cut from Mai Debenham’s garden. They were throwing a fund-raiser for the library, so Lily, who had learned a few things over the past year, snapped several good shots of the museum’s board members with the Debenhams before she even allowed herself to get a drink.

  She worked her way through the crowd, taking photos, jotting down names, smiling, smiling, smiling. Her emotions were all over the place. Like a deep roll of approaching thunder, guilt for the telephone call she’d made earlier rolled toward her.

  God, how she wished she’d hadn’t made that call—it had been a spontaneous and completely childish act. With all her heart she wished she could take it back, especially since she’d forgotten about caller ID and the policeman who took the call had been in Emma’s high school class.

  She had two other parties to cover before she could find out what had happened. And she was staying the night at Jason’s. Thank heavens for that. Emma would no doubt go ballistic. Perhaps Lily could call home late tonight, to find out what happened—but no. She wanted to let Emma cool down before facing her. After all, what could Lily say? What was Lily’s excuse? Jealousy, plain and simple. Sometimes it seemed to Lily that her emotions dragged on her as powerfully as the moon moved the tides.

  “I love your dress!”

  It took Lily a few seconds before she realized the glitzy girl was complimenting her.

  “Oh, thanks. I like yours, too.”

  “Where did you get it?” the girl asked.

  “New York.” She wasn’t lying. The dress had been sent to Eartha from New York.

  She felt her cell phone vibrating inside her little evening clutch. Emma? Already? Couldn’t be. She didn’t need to answer it. She didn’t want to answer it. Still, she stepped into the downstairs powder room and held the phone to her ear.

  “Lily?” It was Abbie, but her voice was choked.

  “Abbie? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, Lily, no,” Abbie wailed. “I’m not okay. Everything’s terrible. Do you know where Emma is? She won’t answer her cell.”

  “I think she’s … she’s gone off somewhere with Marina.”

  “Oh, God.” Abbie’s voice broke off into sobs. “I need Emma.”

  “Abbie, where are you?”

  “I’m at the Parkers’.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  Abbie sobbed harder. “Not me. Harry.”

  “Harry’s hurt?” Abbie was crying so hard Lily couldn’t understand her. “I’m coming over right now.”

  Her hands shook as she steered the Old Clunker through the streets. She couldn’t believe the child Abbie was caring for had gotten hurt. Not under Abbie’s watch. Abbie was übercapable and really good with children.

  Lily realized she’d never heard Abbie cry like this, as if her heart were broken. Not since their mother died.

  The second floor of the Parker house was dark, but lights shone from the first floor, and the moment Lily’s hand touched the front door, it flew open.

  Abbie stood there, and she looked a million years old. Her eyes were red and swollen, her nose crimson at the tip, and her entire body sagged.

  “Abbie! What happened?”

  Abbie put a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to wake him. Come into the kitchen.”

  Lily followed her sister through the house, pulling the kitchen door shut behind her. “Abbie, tell me.”

  Abbie wrapped her arms around herself as she paced around the kitchen. “Lily, I don’t know what to do. She’ll be here any moment. I’m terrified to face her.”

  “Who will be here? And why are you terrified? And what happened to Harry?”

  “Oh, Lily!” Abbie’s face crumbled. “Harry fell off the horse on the carousel. He hit his head. He has a bump. He wants his mommy.”

  Lily flew to her sister’s side and wrapped an arm around Abbie. “Where is Harry now?”

  “He’s in b-b-bed.”

  “In bed? So he’s not in the hospital?”

  “I took him to the emergency room today, after he fell. He was checked out by the doctors and they said he was okay. But he wanted his mommy. He was hysterical, and he was so frightened, and he wants his mommy.”

  “Okay, and so is his mommy coming, is that who’s coming?”

  “I called her, but she was in court. She didn’t get the message until this afternoon. She tried to fly, but the airport’s been fogged in all evening, so she’s on the late boat.”

  “Well, that’s good. Abbie. That’s good, right? The doctors said H
arry is okay. And his mommy is coming.” She thought her sensible words would calm Abbie. Instead, Abbie began to sob so hard her body shook.

  Lily stared at her sister, horrified and full of pity, and also a little scared. “Abbie.” She put iron into her voice. “Abbie, stop that right now. She’ll be here any minute. You’ve got to pull yourself together. You don’t want her to see you like this.”

  “Nothing matters anymore,” Abbie cried.

  “Lots of things matter. Come on, calm down.” She nudged her sister into a chair. She ran a paper towel under cold water, turned to Abbie, and washed Abbie’s face. “Hold this over your eyes,” she instructed. “You’ve got to get the swelling down or you won’t be able to see.”

  Abbie held the cool towel over her eyes. After a moment, she calmed down. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose into the paper towel.

  Lily took it from her and handed Abbie a glass of cold water. “Drink this. God, have you been like this all day? You must have scared the little boy out of his wits.”

  “Of course I wasn’t like this!” Abbie snapped. “I would never let Harry see me like this!” Indignation replaced hysteria. She drank some water and took the new wet paper towel Lily handed her. After a moment, she said, quietly, “I held it together until he was asleep. I can’t keep it in anymore.” She cast a wry smile at Lily. “Sydney’s a bitch from hell. She’s going to rip me apart.”

  “What about Harry’s father? Where is he? Have you told him?”

  Abbie’s face flushed with emotion. “He’s at a conference in Seattle, giving a paper today. Yes, I phoned him. He and Sydney talked and agreed she would come home. He’ll stay at the conference since the doctors said Harry’s okay.”

  Outside, a car door slammed.

  “Sydney’s taxi,” Abbie said. She stood up, straightened her shoulders and walked down the hall to the front door.

  Lily followed. Her heart skipped a beat when the front door opened.

  Sydney Parker stepped inside, a compact force field of energy. She wore a perfectly tailored black suit, high black heels, and she carried a briefcase.

  “How is he?” she demanded.

  “He’s asleep. He’s fine. He ate all his dinner, and played in the bath. He didn’t throw up, he didn’t complain of dizziness or a headache or anything. But he kept asking for you. This is my sister Lily, she only just got here, to drive me home—”

  Abbie spoke to the other woman’s back, because Sydney was rapidly climbing the stairs. Lily waited at the bottom of the stairs, then couldn’t stand it and walked up a few steps, until she could hear them on the second floor.

  “Harry?” Sydney’s voice was low but authoritative. “Harry. Wake up. Mommy’s here.”

  Lily could see Abbie standing just outside the bedroom door. She was wringing her hands and chewing on her lip, but she held her head high.

  “Hey, Big Guy.” Sydney’s voice became sugary. “Hi, Harry.”

  “Mommy. You came!”

  “Of course I came, Silly Willy.”

  “Mommy, I fell off a horse! I have a bump!”

  “Well, let me see this terrible bad bump you got. Oh, my. You know what, Harry? It looks bad, but I think it will probably go away pretty soon and you’ll never know it was there. Want Mommy to kiss it for you?”

  Lily saw Abbie wrap her arms around her stomach, as if it hurt her.

  “There. All better now. And I’m so glad Nanny Abbie was with you. She knew just what to do, didn’t she? Now lie back down and have a good night’s sleep. I’ll be here to have breakfast with you in the morning.”

  Lily saw Abbie put her hand to her eyes.

  “Good boy, Harry. Mommy loves you. Night-night.”

  Lily hurried back down to the hall. A few moments later, Sydney came down the stairs, with Abbie close behind.

  “I need a drink.” Sydney stalked into the dining room, picked up a decanter of Scotch, poured herself a drink, and tossed back a big gulp. Noticing Abbie, she said, “You look like hell.”

  Abbie said, “I was worried about Harry. I watched him carefully all day. No dizziness. No headaches—”

  “Children can scare the shit out of you, can’t they. Well, go on home. I’ll be here all day tomorrow. We won’t need you until Monday.”

  “You want me to come back?” Abbie asked.

  “Of course. It’s too late in the summer to get a new nanny. Anyway, we don’t want Harry thinking I fired you because you’re incompetent. He’s already a nervous child. It won’t help him if he learns he can’t trust his caregivers.”

  “I’m sorry about the fall,” Abbie said. “It happened so fast—”

  “What, you expect me to forgive you? Tell you everything’s okay? Believe me, I don’t have that in me.” She tossed back another slug of Scotch, then muttered, “This fucking island. There’s not one professional on it.”

  “I’ll just run up to the guest room to get my things,” Abbie said.

  “Fine.” Sydney turned away, to pour herself another drink.

  Lily followed Abbie up the stairs. She stood watching as Abbie collected her nightgown, hairbrush, and paperback novel. Abbie went into the bathroom and came out again with her toothbrush and dental floss in her hands.

  “I’m ready,” Abbie said.

  They found Sydney in the kitchen, peering into the refrigerator. She’d stepped out of her high heels and stripped off her suit jacket. Suddenly she seemed younger, and tired.

  “I made a veggie casserole,” Abbie offered. “You could microwave it—”

  Sydney waved an impatient hand, and turned, and they saw that she had her cell phone clutched to her ear. “No, you don’t need to come home,” she was saying. “I’ve seen Harry. He’s just fine. Wait a moment. I’ve got to say good-bye to the nanny.” Glancing at Abbie, she said, “We’ll see you Monday.” She turned her back. “I know, honey,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “Me, too.”

  Abbie seemed paralyzed there in the kitchen.

  “Abbie,” Lily whispered, and tugged on her arm.

  “Wait,” Abbie insisted. “I just need—”

  Sydney flapped her arm again, shooing them away.

  Lily took her by the arm and pulled her down the hall, out of the house, and into the car. Abbie curled up in the passenger seat and began to cry again, in relentless, heartbreaking sobs.

  “Oh, Abbie,” Lily sighed.

  “Let’s just go home,” Abbie said.

  Lily started the car and drove slowly through the narrow streets of the town. A strange sensation rose within her, a kind of pride that made her lift her chin and feel oddly happy—although she stifled her smile because it would be just too odd to be smiling while her sister cried. She was realizing that tonight she had helped Abbie. Tonight Abbie had needed her, and she had come. Well, actually, tonight Abbie had needed Emma, but Emma wasn’t available. Lily had gone. Lily had left her party, left work, and flown to Abbie’s side. She’d comforted her older sister, she’d helped her pull herself together, she’d provided emotional support when Harry’s mother arrived, and she’d gotten Abbie out of the house when Abbie was absolutely dithering with emotions.

  It was as if Lily had stepped over an invisible threshold tonight. If she could help Abbie, then she could do anything at all. A small childish part of her, the part that had been so overpowering only a few hours ago, wanted to tug on Abbie’s sleeve like a child who craves attention and praise, boasting: I helped you, Abbie! I helped you.

  But the ripened, capable, and even perhaps slightly wise Lily understood deep within herself that this knowledge, this pride, needed to be sheltered inside her own heart and soul, protected like the fragile trembling radiance of a newly lighted flame.

  41

  Marina

  It wasn’t really funny, Marina knew, but adrenaline was still flooding her system, urging her to giggle nervously as she sat, trying to appear dignified and law-abiding, in the interview room of the police station.

  Riley O’Hara,
the young officer who had arrested them, and the accompanying officer, Sean Shreve, sat on the opposite side of the table from Marina and Emma, who sat side by side without speaking. The purloined lightship baskets were clustered together at the far end of the long table. In the relentless overhead fluorescent lights, the difference between the color of the cane was obvious.

  Sean Shreve kept shifting in his chair as if he were the guilty one. He was trying to get Emma to look at him, but she was slanted back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw clenched.

  During their ride to the station in the back of the Crown Vic, Emma had informed Marina in a loud, angry voice that Sean had grown up on the island. Emma had actually dated Sean in high school. Emma could not believe that after her explanation, given in whispers in the dark night on the street in front of the Bracebridge house, Sean had insisted the two women be brought into the police station.

  “We have to do it,” Sean had pleaded with Emma. “It’s the law. It would cost me my job not to do it. We had a phone call, Emma. It’s logged in. We have to respond. We have to bring you in.”

  “Yes, and who phoned the station, Sean? I’ll tell you who—Lily, right? Lily phoned you or how else would you know exactly where to go?”

  “That’s the point, Emma,” Sean had retorted. “Lily didn’t phone me. She phoned the station.”

  At the station they made one phone call each. Marina phoned Jim, who said he’d walk down immediately. Marina asked Jim to call Sheila Lester, too, and to ask her to come to the station to confirm that she was planning to evaluate the baskets. Emma phoned Spencer Bracebridge. Then they were shown into the interview room, and now all they could do was wait.

  “Would you like some coffee, Emma?” Sean asked.

  “If I had it, I’d throw it in your face, Sean Shreve,” Emma muttered darkly.

  The door opened to the hall and a woman police officer escorted Sheila Lester into the room. As she was being seated, Jim appeared in the hall, talking with a man who, Emma told Marina, was Chief Coffin. The two men remained in the hall, murmuring in low rumbling voices, until the last person arrived. Spencer Bracebridge hurried in, dressed in khakis and a polo jersey, looking concerned.