The Meryl Streep Movie Club

by Mia March

  Silence.

  He walked over to his daughter and removed an earbud. “I need you to keep an eye on Emmy while I’m training Happy. Earphones out.”

  “What am I supposed to do, then?”

  “Enjoy the sun. Play with your sister. Skim a magazine.” He pointed to the array in a wicker basket. “Build a sand castle with Emmy in the sandbox,” he added, as Emmy plopped down in the sandbox by the fence, filling an orange bucket with sand.

  “I’m wearing white shorts. They’ll get totally ruined.”

  Griffin’s restraint from rolling his eyes was impressive, Isabel thought. “Then sit here, enjoy the sun, and just keep an eye on her. Got it?”

  “Got it, got it.”

  Isabel led Griffin over to the far side of the yard for Happy’s training. “I was so much like Alexa when I was fourteen. So much it’s scary.”

  “There are times, not often, when she’s incredibly sweet, like the wonderful little girl she used to be, that I try to focus on that so I can get through this patch. The sullenness and sarcasm. Do you know that every weekend I have her and Emmy, she puts Emmy to bed? I come in when she’s done tucking her in, but she puts her to bed. She reads her a story, she attempts to comb out her tangles, she kisses her on the forehead, she turns out the light. Every time.”

  “Wow,” Isabel said, glancing over at Alexa, her big, black sunglasses practically covering her entire face as she read a magazine. “She loves her little sister. I’m glad Emmy will grow up with that. My own sister and I didn’t get along very well, ever.”

  “Really? I got the impression you and your sister and cousin were thick as thieves, as they say. The way you three talked after the movie, you all really opened up, really seemed to care about one another.”

  Huh. They did open to one another in their movie discussions. They had from the start, when discussing their very different views on The Bridges of Madison County—and when Isabel had blurted out that Edward had cheated on her, that she’d caught him coming out of a woman’s bedroom with just an unbuttoned shirt on. The three of them, the four of them, Lolly included, had gotten so naturally closer these past weeks, from the movie talks, from sharing a home, a room, from working together, from uniting over their concern for Lolly.

  Happy started digging, which got a “Whoa, boy,” out of Griffin and began the training session. Griffin stuck to basics, showing Isabel how to handle naughty behavior, like the digging. How to reward Happy when he followed commands. How to get him to heel, which was vital on walks in a busy downtown such as Boothbay Harbor’s. Griffin was going over reward systems when his cell phone rang.

  “That’s my emergency ringtone,” he said, taking the call. He spoke briefly, then pocketed the phone. “I’ve got an emergency situation not too far away, an old sheepdog I’m crazy about. I’ll go pack up the girls quick. If I can work it timewise, we’ll come back and continue Happy’s session.” He started toward the deck.

  “I’ll watch the girls—you go take care of that sheepdog. No worries.”

  He glanced at Isabel. “You sure? I don’t want—”

  “I’m sure. No problem at all.” She’d love the chance to spend some time alone with the Dean daughters, get to know them a little better. Be a mom of sorts for an hour.

  He squeezed her hand. “I appreciate it.” He went up to Alexa, slid her sunglasses up on top of her head, and told her he’d be back in about forty-five minutes to an hour and that Isabel was in charge and would be keeping an eye on them both. She watched Alexa slide a glance over at her, then drop down the sunglasses. Griffin let Emmy know he’d be back soon, that Isabel would be watching her and Alexa, kissed the top of her head, and raced up the path to the front.

  “How about I bring out some freshly made lemonade and some cookies,” Isabel said too brightly—for the fourteen-year-old, anyway.

  Emmy clapped. “Yes!”

  “I just got an even better idea,” Isabel said. “What if I bring out a pitcher of cold water, some ice, sugar, and lemons, and we can make our own lemonade? You can have your own lemonade stand out here and offer it free to guests.”

  “Yes!” Emmy said again.

  “What’s your favorite cookie, Alexa? My cousin Kat is a master baker and has all different kinds today.”

  Alexa eyed her. “Does she have peanut-butter chocolate chip?”

  Isabel smiled. “Of course she does. It’s her favorite. I’ll be back in three minutes tops with everything. You’ll keep an eye on Emmy?”

  Alexa nodded and went back to her magazine. Excited to spend some time with the Dean girls, to… be responsible for them, Isabel hurried inside, grabbing a large, sturdy tray and setting it on the table. She filled a pitcher with water, threw ice in an ice bucket, got the sugar bowl and a bowl of lemons, plus a plate of three kinds of cookies, peanut-butter chocolate chip included, and picked up the heavy tray and went back outside. Alexa wasn’t in the chaise anymore. Isabel glanced over at the sandbox. No Emmy.

  Okay, very funny, Alexa. Hide-and-seek to scare her? “Alexa,” she called.

  No answer.

  She glanced around the yard, looking through low tree branches. Around the large rock at the end of the property. No sign of the girls. “Alexa. Emmy,” she shouted. “Please come out. I’ve got everything ready for our lemonade stand.”

  No answer.

  Her heart starting to beat fast, Isabel raced around the yard, looking behind trees, along both sides of the inn, then ran inside. She checked the bathroom—empty. She checked the Alone Closet and every common room of the inn, every nook and cranny. Panic set in deeper with each place she checked. She ran around front. No one but Pearl watering the roses.

  “Pearl, did you see Alexa and Emmy? You know, Griffin Dean’s two girls? Teenager and a three-year-old?”

  “I did see the older one just a few minutes ago. She was practically jogging down toward the harbor. When she passed me, she was laughing while on her cell phone.”

  Isabel sucked in a breath. Okay. “What about the three-year-old?”

  “No, Alexa was alone.”

  Then where was Emmy?

  Isabel quickly told Pearl what had happened, then raced into the backyard, checking again, calling out for Emmy. Over and over and over. Nothing.

  Alexa’s cell phone. Isabel had no idea what the number was. She’d have to call Griffin for it. Explain that Alexa had skipped out on her. And that Emmy was nowhere to be found.

  Oh, God.

  She called out for Emmy over and over as she punched in Griffin’s emergency number. No response from Emmy, but Griffin picked up right away. “Isabel? What’s wrong?”

  She explained, her voice rising hysterically. She stood alone in the yard, looking around frantically, rushing behind trees, racing to the front yard to see if she could spot Emmy. Maybe she’d followed a squirrel. Isabel scoured every bit of area to the left and right. Nothing. Empty. Emmy, where are you?

  “Pearl is sure Emmy wasn’t with Alexa?”

  “She’s sure. She said Alexa rushed past her alone, laughing on her cell phone. I don’t have the number. Oh, God, oh, God. Griffin, I’m so sorry.”

  “Damn it. Maybe Pearl just didn’t notice Emmy walking in front of Alexa or something.” Isabel could hear worry settling into his voice. “I’ll call Alexa, then call you back. Keep looking for Emmy. Check little hiding places. If you don’t find her by the time I call back, I’ll call the police.”

  Isabel closed her eyes as her stomach fell. She put her phone in her pocket and rushed in and out of the inn again, calling out Emmy’s name, checking every possible spot. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

  Five minutes later, her phone rang. Griffin. “I’ve got Alexa. She left Emmy in the yard and snuck away. Alexa’s with me now in the car. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Isabe
l could hear Alexa crying and saying, “I’m sorry, Dad. I thought Isabel was coming right back, so I left.”

  I did come right back, Isabel thought numbly. It was just a few minutes.

  Just a few minutes. Anything can change in an instant.

  Anything can change in an instant.

  “Emmy!” Isabel called as loudly as she could. “Emmy!”

  She strained to hear. But there was nothing but the usual sounds of summer. And Isabel’s racing heartbeat.

  Emmy, where are you?

  The police had just arrived, along with June, whom Pearl had called in a panic, when Isabel heard Happy bark, which was unusual. Isabel trailed behind Griffin to the yard next door, narrowly accessible where the fence ended and the stand of evergreens began. Happy was rolling on his back in front of the Walsh’s doghouse at the head of their old yellow Lab, Elvis, who was lying down half-asleep.

  “Happy,” Griffin said, rushing over to him. “Help us find Emmy.” He put Emmy’s little sweater at Happy’s nose, and Happy started barking like crazy. “Happy, find Emmy. Go.”

  But Happy wouldn’t budge, just kept barking and then started moving in circles in front of the doghouse. Elvis stayed put, watching Happy with lazy eyes.

  “Griffin, I’m so sorry,” Isabel said. “I—”

  C’mon, Isabel, it’s not like you have that maternal instinct, Edward had said more than once.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice breaking.

  Alexa was staring at her feet, her toenails polished metallic blue and green. She wouldn’t look at Isabel.

  Griffin got down on his knees and peered inside the doghouse. “She’s in there! She’s fast asleep. C’mon, Elvis, come on out so I can get my girl, okay?” But the dog wouldn’t move. Eric Walsh helped lure the dog out with a dog biscuit, and Griffin tugged on Emmy’s arm.

  “Daddy?” came the little voice.

  Griffin scooted her out and collected her in his arms. He glanced at Isabel, his dark eyes flashing anger and frustration and relief. But mostly anger, she thought. “Home now,” he said to Alexa.

  With Emmy in his arms and Alexa sulking at his side, he headed along the side yard to the driveway where his car was parked. Without a word to Isabel or a backward glance.

  CHAPTER 14

  June

  Early Tuesday morning, the seagulls woke June, but it was worth it for the pink sunrise over the bay. She moved to the balcony and breathed in the salty air, the fresh scent of flowers and cut grass, which all combined to make her think of Henry. So many times over the past week she’d longed to talk to him, but what was burning inside her these days had to do with another man, and so she’d avoided Henry. And because Henry was Henry and so great, he’d let her be.

  She looked out over the harbor, the fishermen already out in their crafts. Maybe today will be the day, she thought. It had been exactly a week since she’d left a message for the Smiths, short and simple, that she was an old friend of John’s and would love to have his contact information. Every morning since, she’d woken up and sat out here, sure that day she’d hear back from them.

  She wasn’t so sure today would be the day, though. If they were going to call back, they would have already. One phone call she did get every day was from Marley, checking in to see if she had heard from the Smiths, which made June feel better. Or at least understood. Marley had swung into mama mode since the day she’d met Charlie, making lists of what she needed, scoping out the best day-care center, reading her What to Expect book. June had made a real friend in Marley, and when she thought about how unexpected that was, she realized anything could happen. Such as hearing from the Smiths. Finding John. Becoming a family.

  She went to check on Charlie, more to see his sweet face, his rising and falling narrow chest, than anything else. Her gaze landed on the family-tree poster that he’d taped up above his headboard. No changes made, yet.

  When she headed back into her bedroom, she noticed Isabel wasn’t in her bed. Had she gotten up during the two minutes June had slipped out, or had she been gone when June had gotten up? Kat was fast asleep, so close to the edge of her bed that her pretty blond hair hung over the side. June had an urge to move her over a bit, the way she used to with Charlie when she’d find him precariously close to the edge. She’d heard many a thud in the middle of the night. But Kat was a grown-up, and June was pretty sure you didn’t have to worry about grown-ups falling out of bed in the middle of the night.

  She glanced at Isabel’s empty bed. The pale blue sheets dotted with buoys were rumpled, as if her sister had tossed and turned all night. Isabel had been so quiet the night before. She’d made dinner for the family, three different specialty pizzas with interesting toppings, as though she’d needed lots of vegetables to chop, the comfort of a long recipe to follow, with its steps and directions. She’d refused all offers of help, and nothing anyone said seemed to make Isabel feel better—the assurances that it could have happened to anyone, that it probably had happened several times to Griffin over the years: Alexa promising to keep an eye on her little sister for a moment and then not. Emmy wandering off. But Isabel had been equally sad and stone-faced and said she just needed to be alone for a while. She’d called everyone to dinner but had gone up to the bedroom without eating. When June and Kat had come up with a plate for her, she’d pretended to be sleeping. June had no doubt her sister hadn’t slept a wink all night.

  She glanced out the front window to see if she could spot Isabel walking Happy, but Isabel wasn’t among the dog walkers and joggers. June moved to the small window facing the backyard, and there was Isabel, sitting on top of the flat-topped big rock that children loved to climb and play on. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, a mug beside her. Happy lay gnawing on a rawhide bone beside the rock, then went chasing after a huge white butterfly.

  June didn’t bother changing; she headed downstairs in her T-shirt and yoga pants. She stopped in the kitchen to pour herself a cup of the coffee Isabel had made and grabbed two muffins from the canister Kat had marked YUMMY MUFFINS—TAKE ONE!

  “Hey,” June said, placing the mug and muffins on the rock before climbing up beside Isabel.

  Isabel glanced over with red-rimmed eyes, then stared ahead at the trees. “Hi.”

  “What happened yesterday doesn’t say anything about you, Isabel. I hope you know that.”

  “It does say something about me. Edward once told me—during a fight, granted—that I didn’t have any maternal instincts, that I didn’t have that natural protective force inside me. It’s true. Maybe I would be a bad mother.”

  “Edward has proven himself to be a king ass, Izzy. He’s dead wrong. I can list twenty-five ways that you have shown in the short weeks you’ve been here that you do have maternal instincts. That you’d be a great mother.”

  “Name two,” Isabel said, her voice glum.

  “One, the way you’ve treated Charlie since the day we showed up here. How you told him that first day he was talking about the family tree that he had everyone sitting around that table to add. Two, how you raced to get him fresh pajamas when he had a bloody nose and then changed his sheets. Three, how patient you’ve been with Griffin’s fourteen-year-old when anyone else would have snapped at her many times. Four, how kindly you’ve treated Pearl, who needs to feel useful. Five, how lovingly you’ve treated Lolly and the inn. I could go on.”

  Isabel started to cry and covered her face with her hands. “I thought I was doing okay. Letting my marriage go even though it’s the only thing I’ve known for the past fifteen years. Waking up every day on my own, doing something important here—helping with Lolly and the inn. Letting myself fall for someone—and someone with kids. But then I lost Emmy and I thought about what Edward said and—” Isabel let out a deep breath. “What happened with Emmy could have been so much worse, June. She
could have run into the street and been hit by a car. Elvis could have freaked out and bitten her. Someone could have snatched her—”

  “It can always be so much worse. You can’t live that way, Izzy. You just have to… have faith, I guess. In yourself, in other people. In things working out because you give a damn and because you try. That’s all we can do. Otherwise, you just give up and let worry win. You can’t do that.”

  “How do you not worry, though?”

  “You have to trust yourself. And you should.”

  Isabel took a deep breath and broke off a piece of the muffin—cinnamon chip with white chocolate. June knew right then that she’d gotten through, even if just a little.

  That night, June, Isabel, Kat, and Lolly gathered in Lolly’s room for an impromptu Movie Night. Everyone was so glum that Lolly had put June in charge of selecting a Meryl Streep movie that was poignant and affecting, something that stuck to the heart. June flipped through the DVD collection in the parlor, hoping Lolly had the one she wanted. Yup, there it was.

  Kramer vs. Kramer.

  June had seen it a long time ago, and then again when she had the flu and it was on network TV. Meryl Streep leaves Dustin Hoffman and their five-year-old son—or maybe he’s six—because Dustin is a selfish workaholic and she’s sick of it, so he has to take care of the boy on his own and discovers what being a parent truly means. But just when he finds out, when he realizes that being his son’s father is more important than anything else in the world—his job, himself—Meryl comes back and wants the boy, but Dustin won’t give him up. He’s fought to be the father he’s become, and he fights Meryl for custody. But she wins. Even she can see how Dustin has changed, how reliant her son is on him, how much he loves and needs his father, and she lets them stay together.

  Maybe the movie would help Isabel see why Griffin was upset and unable to return her calls. Which had less to do with her and more to do with his own fear. And maybe Isabel would see why she would make a damned good mother—because her instincts, her capacity for love, the person she was, had already proved it.