“What about the party?” Anna asked.
“My presence there would just spoil it . . . for Sarah.” Lauren stood a bit straighter. “Really, I need to get back. I have homework.”
“Oh, Lauren, one day won’t—”
“Please, Mom. I’m an adult.” Her tone sharpened. “I know what I need to do.”
Anna just nodded.
“I’m sorry.” Lauren pressed her lips tightly together.
“I’m sorry, too.” Anna shook her head. “I wish this could be different.”
Lauren shrugged then opened her handbag and fished out a set of car keys. “You’ve done a great job with her, Mom. She looks beautiful . . . and healthy.” Lauren’s eyes were filling with tears now. “You’re a much better mother than I could ever be.”
“Oh, Lauren.”
Lauren hugged Anna and Clark. “I’ve got to go.” And then she hurriedly turned, pushing her way through the crowd.
As they went home, Sarah never mentioned Lauren. And during the graduation party, which seemed to be a surprise, Sarah never asked about her mother’s quick departure. Anna decided to just let it go for now. Especially since Sarah was doing such a lovely job of playing both host and honored guest. She was mingling with everyone, acting so comfortable and natural that Anna could barely believe this was the same moody girl that had been here so briefly last summer.
Anna listened as Sarah enthusiastically thanked Johnny Johnson for his gift, a golden locket with her initials and graduation date engraved on the back. It really was thoughtfully sweet.
“Well, if I’d had a granddaughter, I would’ve wanted her to be just like you,” Johnny said as Anna helped Sarah with the clasp, adjusting the small golden heart around her neck.
“You’d make a wonderful grandpa,” Sarah told him. “And I only have one grandpa so maybe I should adopt you.”
He laughed. “I’d be pleased and proud to be your grandpa.”
“Then I say we should make him an honorary grandpa,” Anna told Sarah.
Sarah nodded. “How about it, Grandpa Johnny? Do you agree?” She stuck her hand out and shook Johnny’s.
“I accept.” He beamed at both of them. Now Sarah excused herself and went over to speak to someone else, and Johnny turned to Anna. “Well, I already felt like you folks were kin, but I guess I’m really part of the family now.”
“And we’re happy to have you. Honestly, I don’t know what Clark would do without you,” she told him. “You guys are thicker than thieves.”
He laughed. “Hopefully we won’t end up in jail.”
“Sometimes I wonder what you two are up to.” She tilted her head to one side. “Tell me, do you really fish all day long? Or do you have a secret poker group in the back of Greeley’s store?”
He laughed harder now. “We always bring home fish, don’t we?”
Now Clark joined them, and he and Johnny started telling her fish stories and jesting about some of their recent wild adventures, and Anna truly didn’t know if they were joking or not.
Then, just a week later, Clark came home with the biggest fish tale Anna had ever heard. Unfortunately, this one was true. A pod of sperm whales had beached themselves along the Florence beach. Disturbed by what seemed a hopeless situation, Anna and Sarah went with Clark, along with some of the guests who wanted to see this strange phenomenon for themselves. Hoping they could help, they went equipped with shovels and buckets and ropes, joining dozens of others down at the beach.
But what they saw was so disturbing . . . so sad . . . Anna could barely stand to look at the mounds of dark shining bodies. More than forty sperm whales of various sizes were lying motionless on the sand. To think that only yesterday they’d been swimming freely in the Pacific, and today they were trapped and dying on land . . . it was too painful to witness. They soon realized there was no way to save the enormous mammals. Anna felt sickened by it. Sickened and confused. How did this happen? Why?
But when Sarah burst into uncontrollable sobs, Anna knew she needed to remove her from the beach. “Come on,” she told her. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“But it’s so wrong!” Sarah cried. “Why can’t someone help them?”
“It’s impossible,” Anna said as she guided her back to the parking lot. Away from the beach and the dying whales, Anna held Sarah in her arms and they both cried freely. Finally when they were both cried out, Sarah told Anna that it reminded her of what had happened in Jonestown.
“You know about that?” Anna asked.
“I found an old Newsweek magazine when I was cleaning a cabin,” she admitted. “It had photos . . . really gruesome photos. I read the article and couldn’t believe it.”
“You never told me.”
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t think I knew what to say . . . what to think.” She looked at Anna with sad eyes. “That could’ve been me.”
Anna moved a strand of hair away from Anna’s eyes. “Thank God it wasn’t.”
Sarah sniffed. “But seeing those whales like that . . . it’s just so wrong.”
Anna just nodded, but she could see the similarities of Jonestown and the dying whales today. Unexplainable sadness. Senseless waste. So wrong.
As usual, summer was busy at the inn. But this year was different in that the store was up and running and the only meals being served were breakfast and dinner. And breakfast was only offered five days a week and dinner was only served three. Plus they had a full staff of young people from town. Still, Anna felt like she was running herself ragged to keep up. Diane had been a good manager last summer, but this year she was distracted with her fiancé and making wedding plans. Sometimes Anna thought she’d be better off having Janelle in charge, but how could she change gears in mid-season.
One thing that was going fairly smoothly was the store. Sarah had asked to be in charge of it, and, although Anna had been unsure if it was too much, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Sarah was a natural. “You take after your great-grandmother,” Anna told Sarah one afternoon. She’d brought a box of candy bars down that had mistakenly been placed in the house.
“Your mother?” Sarah paused from stacking the bars into the rack.
“Yes. She and my father ran the store, but my mother was really quite good at a lot of the details and bookkeeping. My father was great at socializing with the customers and that was important, but it was my mother who made sure the orders were made and the bills got paid. Without her, I’m sure my father would’ve been overwhelmed.”
“Do you have any old photos of them?” Sarah set the empty box on the counter. “And the store?”
“Sure. There’s a few of them. Do you want to see them?”
“I thought it would be fun to frame some of them and hang them in here.” Sarah pointed to the wall behind the register. “Kind of a history thing.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Anna nodded. “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Did you see Mrs. Smyth today?” Sarah asked. But before Anna could answer, a couple of young teen boys set bags of chips and soda cans on the counter. They were both looking nervously at Sarah, in the way that young boys sometimes do when around a pretty girl. Anna couldn’t help but chuckle as Sarah rang up their purchases, pleasantly chatting with them.
After they left, Anna asked why she would’ve seen Mrs. Smyth today.
“She came by to tell me that I’d been accepted at the university.”
“Really?” Anna blinked. She’d almost forgotten that Mrs. Smyth had been helping Sarah to apply to some local colleges.
Sarah grinned. “So I guess it’s final. I’ll be going to the U of O this fall. I think I want to major in anthropology or sociology . . . or something like that.”
“Oh, sweetheart, Hazel would be so proud of you.”
Sarah shook her head with an amazed expression. “It’s still kind of hard to believe. I mean when I think about where I was at . . . just last fall. Pretty weird.”
“You’ve come a long way.”
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She nodded, calling out a cheery greeting to an older couple who’d just come into the store. “What a trip, huh?”
Several more customers came into the store now, and Anna knew that Sarah needed to give them her attention. So, congratulating her on the college acceptance, Anna left. But as she walked up to the house, she felt an unexpected sadness come over her. Oh, certainly, it was bittersweet . . . but it was still there. Sarah would be leaving in the fall. Once again, she would be removed from Anna’s life. And, really, Anna wouldn’t have it any other way. Sarah was too brilliant not to continue her education. And to think she was interested in the same things Hazel had studied and taught, well, it was beyond wonderful. Still, it would be hard to say good-bye . . . again.
Even so, Anna put on a happy face when she told Clark about Sarah’s good news that evening. Sarah had gone to town with some of the other workers, to take in a movie. Naturally, Clark was pleased to hear that Sarah wanted to follow in his mother’s footsteps. “I knew she’d been reading Mom’s work, but I figured it had more to do with your family’s history. I didn’t realize she was actually interested in the field herself. Good for her.”
“It’s going to be hard to see her go,” Anna admitted.
He made a sympathetic smile. “Your old friend—change—is back again.”
She felt silly. “I know . . . everything has to keep changing.” She looked out over the river from the upper deck where they were having coffee. “Even this river, which I think of as changeless, is constantly changing. Otherwise it would become stagnant and sick. New water is always coming from the mountains and then off it goes out to the sea . . . never the same water . . . it keeps moving . . . keeps it healthy.”
“Just like the workers and family and friends that flow through here,” Clark said. “They come and they go.”
She reached for his hand. “But you’re still here.”
He smiled, nodded. “You bet I am.”
The next morning, Anna discovered another change was coming their way. “I think I’m pregnant,” Jewel told her as they were cleaning up after breakfast.
“Really?” Anna turned to look at her.
Now Jewel began describing the symptoms she’d been experiencing, and Anna had to agree. “That does sound like pregnancy.”
Jewel frowned. “It’s not that I’m not happy to have a baby . . . I am. But Skip thinks this means we have to move into town and he’ll have to go to work for his dad.”
“Oh . . .” Anna closed the dishwasher.
“And after all you and Clark have done for us. And our precious little cabin—” Jewel started to cry.
Anna put her arms around her, holding her. “It will all work out, Jewel. And having a baby—oh, that is such a blessing.”
Jewel nodded. “I guess so. I just feel kind of blindsided. I think I’m in shock. I mean we’ve only been married a few months. I don’t feel ready.”
“Well, just take it one day at a time. Enjoy your summer here and know that whatever comes, even if you must move to town, you and Skip will have each other and the baby, of course, and you’ll be just fine, Jewel. You’re on a good path.”
Jewel seemed somewhat comforted, but as Anna walked to her office, her feet felt heavy. It had seemed so right to have Skip and Jewel as full-time employees, a perfect way to lighten the load for her and Clark, and now it appeared that was destined to end. Still, Anna tried to take her own advice—one day at a time . . . just enjoy the summer . . . don’t worry about tomorrow. She still had two months left with Jewel and Skip . . . and with Sarah. Then, like the water flowing down the river, they would move on.
25
We have an unexpected guest,” Clark told Anna shortly before dinnertime. This was one of the days when the dining room was not serving meals and Anna had just put a salmon into the oven while Sarah was making a green salad. It would be just the three of them tonight.
“But we’re full up.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Did they have reservations? Is there a mistake?”
Motioning Anna to come toward the door, Clark whispered, “It’s Donald.”
“Donald?” Anna thought she heard him wrong. “You mean Sarah’s dad Donald?”
He nodded. “Do you want me to tell her that—?”
“Where is he?”
“Down at the boathouse.”
“Oh . . . why didn’t you bring him up?”
Clark shrugged then glanced toward the kitchen. “I didn’t want to upset her. You know how it was when Lauren showed up out of the blue.”
She nudged him toward the door. “You go get Donald. But take your time and stall a bit. I’ll speak to Sarah.”
“I can give him a tour of the improvements,” Clark offered as he opened the door.
“Yes. Do that.” Anna went back to the kitchen, and Sarah looked curiously at her.
“Did we overbook?” She frowned as she slid some sliced tomatoes into the salad bowl. “Do you need my cabin for guests?”
“No, of course not.” Anna shook her head. “It’s your cabin. I wouldn’t dream of moving you out for a guest.”
Sarah looked relieved. “Good because it’s kind of a mess today. I was in the midst of a sewing project that’s spread all over the place.”
“Your dad is here,” Anna said gently.
“What?” Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “Dad is here?”
Anna nodded. “Clark said he just got here. I’m as shocked as you are.” Now Anna told Sarah about how she’d invited him for graduation in June. “He couldn’t make it,” she explained, “but maybe he felt badly for missing it.”
Sarah scowled. “I doubt that.”
“Well, he’s obviously here to see you, Sarah. Should we invite him for dinner?”
“Do what you like.” Sarah’s scowl deepened.
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “It means I don’t care . . . whether he stays for dinner or jumps in the river. He’s nothing to me. And I don’t plan to speak to him.” She set down the paring knife and removed her apron. “I’ll be in my cabin.”
“Do you want me to go tell him that you don’t want to see him?”
Sarah turned to look directly at Anna. “Do you want to see him, Grandma?”
“Well, not exactly. But I hate to turn him away. That’s not very hospitable.” She tried to smile. “And I am in the hospitality business after all.”
“So have him up here for dinner if you want. Just don’t expect me to come.” Sarah was nearly to the door now.
“What if your father wants to say he’s sorry?” Anna tried.
“Then I might have to say it’s too little, too late.” But Sarah stopped and, standing there in the living room, let out a frustrated sigh then folded her arms across her front the same way she used to do as a little girl when someone was pushing her out of her comfort zone. “It’s just not fair, Grandma.”
Anna went over and put an arm around her shoulders. “What’s not fair?”
“That he and mom let me down in so many ways . . . and then they think they can just show up and act like everything’s okay . . . let bygones be bygones. Why can’t they just leave me alone? Don’t they see that they weren’t there when I needed them and now I don’t need them anymore? Why do they feel the need to force themselves back into my life?”
Anna considered her response. “Because, like it or not, you are a part of them, Sarah. Their blood is in you. And even though family can be exasperating sometimes, they are still family.”
“Does that mean I owe it to them?” Sarah’s eyes were defiant. “That I should just put my hurts behind me, pretend that they never let me down, and just act like everything’s fine. Because I suppose I could do that.” She took in a deep breath, tightening her hands into fists and holding her arms stiffly by her side. “If that’s what you want me to do, Grandma, I can do that. Put on a big phony act.”
Anna didn’t know what to say.
“You say the word and I’ll do
it,” Sarah told her. “I’ll fake that everything is just peachy keen.”
“No . . .” Anna said slowly. “I don’t want you to put on act. If you can’t speak to your dad because you want to speak to him . . . then I don’t really see the point.”
Sarah nodded. “Good. I don’t either.”
Anna thought for a moment. Was this something Sarah should be forced to handle on her own? But then Anna remembered less than a year ago, when a confrontation with Lauren had sent Sarah running. Could that happen again? Probably not. But even so. “Do you want me to tell him how you feel.”
“Thank you.” Sarah’s eyes were brimming with tears now.
“But, for your sake, Sarah . . .” Anna sighed. “I wish you were able to forgive him . . . and Lauren, too. It’s not good for you to be bitter.”
“I know, Grandma.” Sarah’s hand was on the doorknob. “You’ve told me that already . . . lots of times. And if I was able to forgive them and move on I would.” She shook her head. “It’s just that I can’t. I just can’t!” And now she went out, solidly closing the door behind her.
Anna went back to fixing dinner, setting aside a plate for Sarah, which she would take down to her later. She understood Sarah’s dilemma. It would’ve been false for her to pretend that there was nothing wrong. Still, Anna longed for her to get beyond it.
After about ten minutes, Clark came in with Donald, the two of them chatting like old friends, and Anna explained that Sarah had chosen not to join them for dinner.
“It figures.” Donald grimaced. “I knew I was probably on a fool’s errand.”
“Then why did you come?” Anna asked.
“I was going through some old photos, and it just hit me—Sarah deserved better than she got from Lauren and me. She was a good kid. And I know she’s had some rough knocks, but I’m proud of her for making a comeback. I just wanted to tell her that. Guess I should be on my way.”
“Wait,” Clark said suddenly. “I think Sarah needs to hear those things.”
“You mean if she’d listen,” Anna told him.
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