Wren glanced out the window. They were standing by the coop, and Lucy was trying to hand Caleb their silver-laced Wyandotte, Clementine. Clementine wasn’t having it. She flapped her wings and flew out of his reach. “Yeah, how about that?” she said.
“Dad and I wanted to come by the shop with breakfast. But when you weren’t there, I figured we’d pop over here. Hope that was okay?”
If someone had asked her if having Caleb pop over to cook for her open house was a good idea, Wren would’ve put the kibosh on the idea immediately. Piper was famous in the family for her ill-thought-out ideas, and it was something they usually gave her a hard time about. But today Wren felt suddenly grateful to her little sister. Sometimes spontaneity was just what you needed. “Listen, I know you’re looking for work. I want to pay you for your help today.”
Piper sipped her tea thoughtfully. “I have a better idea.”
“Oh?”
“Give me a job.”
Wren laughed. “At the shop? Pipe, it hasn’t even opened yet. And I’ve already got Ari.”
“Just hear me out. I’m not going back to Boston for a while. And I’ll do whatever you need. Sales. Cleaning. Advertising. Babysitting. Think of the time it would give you with Lucy.”
Wren felt Piper’s dilemma, but this was not something she could rescue her from. “I’d love to help you out, but I don’t have extra funds. Everything I have I put into the shop. God, I don’t even know if I can afford Ari yet.” A loud shriek of laughter came through the window and Wren glanced outside at Lucy. She’d been so happy to be included in the kitchen work that afternoon. God, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything just the two of them.
“I hear you,” Piper said. “It was just a thought.”
“Piper, what you need is a real job. As in a career. Not babysitting or filling in for me.”
Piper nodded, slowly. “I know. I’ve got to figure my shit out.” She pressed her fingers to the pink line on her forehead as she spoke.
It was an absentminded gesture of anxiety, something she’d done since she was a little girl, but seeing her worry the scar touched Wren. She looked outside again, at her father and Lucy. “But maybe we can figure something out for now. Just while I get the shop up and running.”
Piper slapped the table. “Really?”
“Don’t go getting all excited just yet. But what you said is true: I do need more time with Lucy. Let me think about it, okay?”
As it was, the schedule being shared just between the two of them required Wren to be there almost every day. And what if she or Ari was sick? She couldn’t close the shop, especially during the summer tourist season. They were scheduled to be opened six days a week as it was. It would be a huge relief to have someone else on board. The question was, could she afford to hire her?
• • •
No sooner had the door shut behind Piper and Caleb, and she’d wiped down the countertops one last time, did the phone ring. All Wren wanted to do was collapse on the couch with Lucy.
Wren picked it up. “Hello?”
“Ah, finally. Hello, this is Alice.”
Wren paused. She didn’t know any Alice.
“Your father’s friend in Arizona?”
“Oh.” A strange feeling rose in Wren’s throat. She did not know who Alice was, but she did not want to find out.
“I’m just calling to see how my boy is doing. You girls treating him all right up there?” Alice’s voice was melodious, velvety. And assuming. Wren prickled. Who did this woman think she was?
“We’re treating him just fine.”
Alice hesitated. “I was worried about him. There are some things you should probably know . . .”
Wren interrupted. She did not need to be told anything about her father from this strange woman. “Well you needn’t be. He’s home now. With us.” Before Alice could say anything more, Wren thanked her and hung up.
• • •
The phone rang again, startling her, but to her relief it was Shannon. “Tomorrow’s the big day! How’re we feeling?”
She decided not to mention the nosy woman from Arizona. Whatever life Caleb led down there without them, Wren really did not want to know about it. But Shannon was already plowing on. “I know you said you want to do this by yourself, but these kinds of events can quickly become overwhelming. I’ve got that great caterer that Reid and I use for our parties. Remember our midsummer night party last year? It’s last minute, but I could call her if you need food supplements or serving ideas.”
“Thanks, but the menu is done. Ari came by today, and then Piper surprised me with Dad. It took forever, but I think we’re good to go.”
“Did you say Dad came over?”
Wren knew the news would not be welcome, but she was not about to tiptoe or lie. “I didn’t know they were coming, but it turned out they were a big help. You should’ve seen it. Dad made the potato cakes with Lucy at the stove.”
Shannon was quiet for a moment. “Well, that must’ve been interesting.”
“It was. I wish you’d been here, too.”
“Yeah, well. I guess that leads me to my next question. Is he going to be there tomorrow at the opening?”
Wren sucked in her breath. “Good question.” This was what she’d been most worried about. It wasn’t the event itself. It wasn’t the business anxiety that had trickled through her mind all winter as she rounded up store inventory: What if no one likes this stuff? What if it doesn’t sell? Those all would’ve been worry enough for any entrepreneurial businesswoman and single mom. Instead, her family was the ever-present wild card.
As she’d learned over the years within a family of mostly women, no amount of preparation could fortify the best-laid plans against one curveball comment from a relative. No matter how close you were or how hard you loved, family drama could dismantle your biggest day in the shortest time. And now, with her father home, Beverly on the way, and all three sisters back in town again, the air was ripe for a storm. What better time for it to break than on her grand opening?
“He wants to come, and I would like him to be there. The only question mark is you.”
Shannon scoffed. “Oh, so now I’m the question mark?”
Wren closed her eyes and leaned against the fridge. They were all entitled to handle this in their own way, but now lines were being drawn in the sand. Lines that put family members on one side or the other. “So you’d miss my grand opening just to avoid seeing Dad?”
“What choice do I have? You know how I feel, and yet you’re inviting him.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Wren hadn’t planned this. Just as she hadn’t planned his return, or his showing up in her kitchen and acting like a grandparent. She hadn’t been sure if she was comfortable with any of it, but now that things were unfolding, she had to admit she was kind of liking it. “Shannon, I don’t want to choose, but if you’re going to boycott the show because of his presence, then I’ll tell him to stay home. It’s more important to me that you’re there.” Wren didn’t want this, but she wanted her sister there. After all, Shannon had been there for her all along.
“I’m a big girl, Wren. You don’t have to un-invite him on my account.”
“No, I want you there. I just didn’t want him to feel excluded.”
Shannon’s voice was as steady as a talk-show host, but Wren heard the anger. She might have been able to mask her feelings from everyone else, but she wasn’t fooling her sister. “Listen to what you’re saying. He chose to exclude himself from us for twenty-three years. During which, may I remind you, I was there for every need you and Piper had.”
Wren felt her throat tighten. “I know! I was there, too, Shannon. Which you seem to forget.”
The line went dead, and Wren chucked the phone across the kitchen. It hit the floor with a crack and skidded into the living area, stopping at the Lucy’s feet. She looked down at it, then up at Wren, her eyes wide. “Mama?”
Lucy pointed to the broken phone. The batteries had c
ome out of the back and were rolling across the floor. “You dropped it?”
Wren went to her and scooped her up into a hug. “No honey. I lost my temper, and I’m sorry.”
Lucy pulled back and examined her mother’s face warily. Staring back at her big brown eyes, it was all Wren could do not to cry. “It’s okay, Mama.”
Forget the shop, forget her father and Shannon and all the rest of them. In that moment Wren hated herself. She hated her temper. She hated all the hours she’d been spending away from Lucy, who needed her, and yet whom she was failing right here right now on this rare afternoon she was actually home.
“Are you mad?” Lucy asked.
“Not anymore, and certainly not at you. Mommy is just tired from work these days. But don’t worry, because you know what?”
“What?”
“The store opens tomorrow, and then we’ll have the whole summer together. You can come to work with me any day you want. And we’ll spend our afternoons at the beach together, just us.”
All she’d wanted was to show her daughter that she could do this: she could start a business and run it and be a good mother. Even if it meant doing it all by herself. But instead she was showing her that it was stressful and hard and that it took you away from the ones you loved.
Lucy leaned against her. “Can we go to Ridgevale Beach? I want to bring my net.”
“Because you like catching all those hermit crabs don’t you? We need to get you a new bucket.”
“And a shovel, so I can build a tall wall so they don’t escape.”
Wren laughed sadly. She had no idea how she could make any of what she’d just promised happen. The truth was she was only going to get busier, if the shop was successful at all. But how many more summers did she have left with her little girl? How could she, as a single mom, say no when her child asked her to take her to take her to the beach and catch hermit crabs? She did not want Lucy to have the regrets she did as a child. She’d have to find a way to balance better. There was no other choice.
Twenty-Eight
Hank
Beverly was one of his most favorite people. She was elegant and articulate. She was meticulously put together, one of the only people he knew who still carried a monogrammed handkerchief. And she was a battle ax.
No sooner had she arrived at the house did she have a recommendation. Beverly was noted for her recommendations. “Why don’t you let that poor dog be a dog?”
Lindy was leaning over Bowser’s dog bed on the floor, gently rotating his hind leg in a circular motion. “Mother, he just had major surgery. Part of his physical therapy is to manipulate his muscles and tendons.”
“Physical therapy for pets. What will they think of next?”
Lindy forced a smile and moved on to the next leg. “It’s good for him. This exercise is called ‘bicycling.’ I have to do it to him three times a day.”
Beverly set her teacup down. “Hank, dear. When was the last time she ‘bicycled’ you?”
Hank leapt to his feet, his cheeks flushed deeply. “Anybody need me to run out and pick something up?” He’d already been to the grocery store and the fish market. He’d asked about picking up more wine. Surely someone needed some obscure prescription filled. He’d be delighted to drive all the way to Hyannis for it.
Thankfully Piper picked that moment to walk through the front door. She’d been the only Bailey girl to have seen Beverly yet, and Hank was thinking now would be a great time for the others to follow her in. She threw her purse on the kitchen island. “I got a job!”
Beverly beamed. “Do tell.”
Despite his opportunity for a clear exit from the kitchen, he lingered. Hank had been wondering about this very matter. He did not like to pry. The girls got enough of that from their mother, whom he did not blame, but he’d learned that the less he asked any of them the more they shared. Still, Piper was home with every box of stuff she’d taken out of the house three summers earlier when she went to Boston for grad school, and then some. He knew because he’d helped her unload her car a couple of days earlier. She’d been parking over to the side of the house since returning, and he hadn’t understood why until he happened to walk by. Piper’s things filled the backseat all the way up to the ceiling, and his first thought had been How does she see anything out the back? Until his second thought clicked with realization. He’d found Piper sunning herself in the backyard with a copy of Vogue and a beer.
“Have you told your mother?” he’d asked.
“About?”
He motioned for her to follow him out to the front. When they paused in front of her car she slumped. “I’m going to, but things have been a little crazy around here lately.”
Hank did not agree or disagree with her assessment. What he did do was offer to help her carry the stuff in. “It’s dangerous to drive like that,” he said. Piper consented, with what seemed to be a good deal of relief. It didn’t hurt that Lindy was also out in town. Together they made at least six trips up and down the stairs to her room. With each one, Piper spilled her guts. “I can’t teach, Hank. I just can’t do it.” Followed by, “My roommates kicked me out. Nicely. But still.” And, “Don’t worry! I only plan on staying for the summer. I think.”
Box after box he lifted and listened, until the last trip up the stairs when it was his turn. “Listen, kiddo. You’re right, things have been rather busy here lately.”
“Crazy.”
Hank blinked. “That, too. But there will be even more crazy if your mother finds out from someone other than you.”
Piper hugged him. “I know. I will soon.”
He certainly hoped so. This was a complication for him. Hank did not keep secrets from his wife, though there were occasions he was privy to information before she was. If battle lines were drawn, he always backed up his wife. But Piper wasn’t a sixteen-year-old caught sneaking a boy up to her room on a summer night. He would give her until the end of the week before he brought it up again.
With this sudden announcement of employment, they gathered around the kitchen table. “Did you hear back from one of the schools in Boston?” Lindy asked.
“Not exactly. It’s closer than that.”
Lindy looked confused for a moment, then suddenly clapped her hands. “Honey! Did you apply to one of the Cape school districts?”
“It’s not for a school.”
“Not a teaching position?”
Beverly reached across the table and clasped Piper’s hand. “Go on, dear. I haven’t many years left.”
Piper looked around the table bashfully. “I’m working for Wren! I’m going to help her out at the Fisherman’s Daughter.”
Hank glanced around the table, taking the temperature of each expression. Lindy looked confused. Beverly was nodding. He wasn’t sure what to think.
“But what about teaching? You just finished your degree. You are going to keep looking for a teaching job, right?”
Piper lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m having second thoughts.”
Lindy sat down. “Second thoughts.” She glanced suddenly at Hank. “Did you know anything about this?”
“I didn’t.” He looked at Piper meaningfully.
“No Mom, he only knew about the apartment. And I was waiting to tell you until I figured something out.”
Lindy’s head swiveled between the two. “What about the apartment?”
“I kind of lost it.”
“You lost your apartment?”
“Well, my student loans ran out. And Boston is so expensive. I can’t make rent without a job, which I planned to apply for, but I realized this spring during student teaching that it just wasn’t for me.”
Lindy’s voice was almost a whisper. “You realized this spring.”
“Yeah. It just seemed easier to come home and get back on my feet. Just for a while!” she added quickly.
Lindy stood abruptly, then sat back down. “Huh.”
Hank approached her like one does a wounded anim
al. “Honey, I’m not sure if you noticed Piper’s car when she came home, but after I took one look at it, it occurred to me she might be prolonging her visit. I suggested she discuss this with you.”
But she was already moving past him, as if floating. “Three years of graduate school and teaching is not for her.” She headed for the front door.
“Sweetheart? Are you all right?”
“Just taking a little walk,” she said.
This was not a good sign. Lindy was a woman of colossal contradiction. The more she wanted to yell the quieter she became. She walked when she wanted to slam doors. When livid, her expression went blank.
Hank shadowed her, keeping a slight distance. “I could keep you company on your walk?”
“Best not.”
“For just a bit?”
“I wouldn’t.”
The screen door hushed closed behind her and Hank stood on the other side, watching her sail down the front steps and out onto the street. He had a feeling she’d be gone a while.
When he returned to the kitchen, Piper had made herself scarce. Beverly remained at the table, gazing out the window contentedly. She lifted her teacup to her red lips. “It’s so good to be home with the family. Such energy with the young ones under the roof, don’t you think?”
Hank managed a small nod.
She sipped her tea. “Now, when do I get to lay eyes on that father of theirs?”
Twenty-Nine
Piper
The proverbial cat was out of the bag. It brought her little relief. Piper checked the text from Derek again. It had come yesterday, but she’d still not replied.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. Her fingers positively ached every time she held the phone and read the message. But what to say?
The truth was there was too much she wanted to say. At first, she felt empowered by the fact that he’d reached out. The ball was in her court: she imagined him checking his own phone, wondering when she’d reply. Missing her. The initial rush of power fueled her to hold out longer.
But that faded, replaced with the simple fact: she missed him. She missed him, and she wanted him back. And here he was, saying the same! But it was impossible. Derek was not available to her. He’d given no indication he would ever leave his wife, and replying to him now would only prolong the hurt. She needed to move on. Regardless of what she said or how she said it, communication was communication. It kept them connected. And the kind of connection she wanted—no, needed—from Derek was not something he could deliver on. Wren’s response to her admission had driven home what she already knew to be true. He was married. He had children. The whole thing was wrong. Before she could change her mind, she deleted the message with a swipe and shoved her phone back in her purse. It was time to go to the opening.
Sailing Lessons Page 22