“What about your book group?” she asked. “I stopped to see my sister, Rachel, and she told me you are supposed to be meeting tonight.”
“We are, but to be honest, I haven’t read the book. One of our, er, snootier members picked it and I couldn’t finish the stupid thing. I found it pedantic, moralistic and boring as beige wallpaper. Much like the person who picked it, if I can be catty for a moment.”
Jess had to smile. “I don’t know anybody in town except you and Rachel, so you can be as catty as you want.”
Eleanor’s laugh was low and infectious. “Rather than discuss a book I couldn’t finish that I can only recommend for drying flowers from your garden, I would rather have the chance to get to know you better. Your life sounds so fascinating, traveling the country and helping, ahem, seasoned citizens like me clear out their clutter.”
She was only here for two weeks, Jess reminded herself. While Eleanor seemed like exactly the kind of woman Jess wanted to be when she grew up, she probably shouldn’t socialize with her more than absolutely necessary.
What was the point in establishing a connection when Jess would only be a temporary presence here at Whitaker House?
“Thank you for that kind invitation but I’ve had a long day of driving, leaving before dawn, and I’m pretty beat. We will have another long day tomorrow so I should probably turn in early.”
Eleanor looked disappointed but hid it quickly. “I totally understand, though I’m still not going to book club. You can be darn sure of that.”
She waved her hand. “You’ll have plenty of other chances to meet Sophie and hopefully get a better impression of Nate.”
She didn’t need a better impression of Nate. Really. She should probably stay far away from any man who could annoy her and make her insides shiver at the same time.
“I’m sure I will.”
“I’ll try to persuade you to have dinner with us another night soon.”
“Do you eat with Nate and Sophie every night?”
“Oh no. Usually only once or twice a week with all three of us and maybe another time or two with Sophie and I alone when Nate is working late. It’s been lovely to have them so close, especially during those long months when Jack was so sick. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without them.”
Her chin wobbled but Jess was impressed when she seemed to shove aside the emotion to offer up a firm smile instead. “We’ll make time for dinner another night when you haven’t had such a long day of driving.”
“Thank you.”
To Jess’s shock, Eleanor gave her another warm hug. “I really am so grateful you were able to find time in your schedule to help me. If you need anything in the night—snacks, towels, anything at all—don’t hesitate to come up to the house. I’ll text you the security code. I’ve become a light sleeper since my husband died and I’ll hear you, no doubt.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Eleanor’s warmth and friendliness went a long way toward ameliorating the uncertain welcome she had received in Cape Sanctuary thus far from Nate Whitaker and from Rachel. Maybe taking this job hadn’t been a mistake, after all.
“So tomorrow, bright and early, I’ll come to the house and we can get started.”
Eleanor gave her a rather guileless look. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take the morning off to rest after your long drive?”
The suggestion veiled in the form of a question wasn’t completely unexpected. Though Eleanor had hired her to help her clear out the house, she was clearly ambivalent about the process. Her reaction wasn’t unique among Jess’s clients. Change was hard, especially when it involved sorting through a lifetime of memories.
Many older people preferred not to deal with it but to leave the process of sifting through their lives to their heirs after they passed.
She gave Eleanor a reassuring smile. “Once I have a good night’s sleep, I will be fresh and energized for the day ahead. You should make sure you have plenty of rest, too. You’re going to love your house when we’re done.”
“Right, then. First thing in the morning. Should we say eight?”
“That works for me.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night. Sweet dreams.”
Eleanor headed back to the house. Jess watched her for a moment then walked up into the Airstream. She had left the windows open when she headed over to Rachel’s and the curtains fluttered in the breeze. She had turned down two dinner invitations but knew she still needed to eat. She decided on another sandwich, this one toasted French bread topped with burrata and marinated cherry tomatoes. She ate it out on her folding turquoise bistro set under the awning of the Airstream to the low song of the ocean and the sound of birds in Eleanor’s lovely flower garden.
It was messy and delicious, creamy, drippy perfection.
While she ate, she worried again about Rachel. Her sister had seemed worn-out, as if she were barely holding together the frayed edges of her life. Was it because of Silas’s recent autism diagnosis? Rachel had seemed so matter-of-fact about it a few months earlier when she had messaged Jess to tell her. Jess had immediately called, not wanting to have this important conversation over text.
Rachel had seemed not nonchalant exactly. More like reconciled. It’s a very early diagnosis but his case is fairly clear-cut. We’re going to be meeting with a team of specialists at UC Davis in a few months to come up with a therapy and treatment plan. It feels good to have a few answers about some of the things we’ve seen and to know that we are on a path to find out more, Rachel had told Jess.
Despite Rachel’s positive attitude in that first phone call, Jess had to assume it couldn’t be easy on their family. Rachel and Cody must have been struggling to come to terms with the diagnosis and its implications for Silas’s future.
Shortly after Jess had found out about Silas, Eleanor had reached out to her asking about a possible opening in her schedule. The chance to come to Cape Sanctuary and spend more time with them had seemed serendipitous during this challenging time in her sister’s life so she had rearranged her schedule to make it happen.
Now that she was here, Jess realized how falsely optimistic she had been. Rachel didn’t want to open her life to her. She wouldn’t welcome Jess’s concern or any effort she made to support her.
Her sister had made that clear more than a decade ago. She was perfectly happy to build her life here in Cape Sanctuary without Jess.
Jess lifted her face to the ocean breeze, wishing it could carry away the old pain in her heart.
5
Nate
When his mother returned from visiting Jess Clayton at her trailer, Nate told himself that odd feeling in his chest was relief. He certainly wasn’t disappointed.
“Your guest didn’t want to come to dinner?”
“She had a long day of driving,” Eleanor explained. “She wanted to get some rest so she’ll be full of vim and vigor tomorrow.”
“Is that seriously what she said?” Sophie looked up from her phone long enough to give the world a general look of disgust at the idea of someone using such an old-fashioned term.
His mother laughed. “Okay, those are my words. Jess said she wanted to rest up for tomorrow. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Sophie frowned at that. “I don’t get why you have to do this now. I mean, it’s not like you’re using all those other rooms.”
“I might if they weren’t so crowded with old things.”
“What would you use them for?” Nate was genuinely curious. He had a strange feeling about this whole thing, especially since his mother was being so closemouthed about hiring Jess to help her clean out Whitaker House.
Why hadn’t she told him? Eleanor wasn’t usually so secretive about things. He wasn’t naive enough to believe he knew every detail about his mother’s life but this seemed like such an odd thing to
conceal from him.
Eleanor gave them both a breezy smile. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll start a yoga studio. Or open a bed-and-breakfast for starving artists or something.”
That actually didn’t sound as far-fetched as it might. The house would be perfect for something like that, set on a small cliff overlooking the Pacific, with a terraced pathway that led down to a small cove.
The beach was open to the public but because the only access was across property that had been in the Whitaker family for generations, only townspeople in Cape Sanctuary knew about it and used it.
To Nate, Sunshine Cove had always felt like his own private refuge. He had loved waking up before school and taking the long, winding path down to the beach to surf the cold waters.
Sometimes friends from town would meet him but he was often on his own, though more than once he had been joined by a pod of dolphins playing in the surf.
In retrospect, it hadn’t been safe at all for a teenage punk to be down there by himself but he wouldn’t trade those moments and memories for anything.
He hadn’t surfed in a long time. His work schedule had been demanding lately as the construction market in the area boomed. He should do something about that.
“How was the movie?” he asked them.
“Fine,” Sophie said shortly.
He fought down his annoyance at her succinct response. Over the past two or three weeks, one-syllable responses had become the norm for her, at least in her interactions with Nate.
He wasn’t sure what the hell had happened to his sweet, talkative, fun daughter. After she hit thirteen, she had somehow become surly and short with him.
Was he at fault or was it hormones? Or was it something else entirely?
He had no idea. He only knew he was getting seriously tired of it.
“Only fine? You’ve been looking forward to that one for weeks.”
“The book was better,” she said.
“Books are usually better than movies,” Eleanor said. “I remember how disappointed I was when I watched Doctor Zhivago after reading the book.”
“I also don’t like that all the people who never bothered to read the books are stanning all over the movie. So lame.”
While Nate didn’t consider himself the hippest of parents, he at least knew stans were superfans.
“Regardless of the movie’s quality or lack thereof, we had a lovely girls’ day in the city,” his mother said. “The orthodontist appointment went well and then we did a little shopping at a couple of our favorite shops. I bought a new purse and some yarn, of course, and Sophie found some cute new earrings. Show your dad,” she said.
Without bothering to look at him, Sophie flicked one dangly earring that looked like it ended in an arrow.
“Fun.”
She shrugged, not shifting her gaze from her phone, and Nate again fought down his irritation and, yes, hurt.
He felt like the sweet, kind girl with whom he had spent thirteen years building a loving relationship had rolled out with the tide one day, leaving this angry, sullen stranger in her wake.
During dinner, Eleanor and Sophie talked more about their trip to town and the last few weeks of school for Sophie while they ate. When they finished, Sophie cleared her plate and loaded it into the dishwasher then claimed homework.
“I forgot all about an essay I have to write for English class. It’s due tomorrow,” she claimed.
He might have told her maybe she should have made sure she was caught up on schoolwork before taking the afternoon off with her grandmother to go to a movie but he didn’t want to cause more tension so he let it slide.
“Gram, can I use your computer?”
“Sure. It’s already on, since I was using it before dinner.”
“Thanks. This won’t take long.” Sophie raced into the other room.
“So,” he said to his mother after she left, “tell me about Jess Clayton.”
Eleanor busied herself with transferring the leftover vegetables into a glass container. “What do you want to know?”
Who is she? What put those shadows in her eyes? Is she involved with anyone?
He couldn’t ask any of those questions so he focused on the dozen other things he wanted to know.
“How did you hear about her? And how do you know you can trust her not to rob you blind?”
Eleanor’s mouth tightened with annoyance. “You might not believe this but sometimes I know what I’m doing. I did my research. She comes highly recommended and not just by Lucinda. I called other clients, who all had nothing but good things to say about her and her partner.”
That was something, at least. “That’s good to know. It’s not a question of me not believing that you know what you’re doing. I just worry about you. It’s kind of in my job description. I don’t want to see you get scammed by an opportunist out to take advantage of your kind nature and willingness to believe the best in people.”
Eleanor’s expression softened. “Jess isn’t like that. She doesn’t take any kind of commission on anything I might sell down the line. Her fee is standard and more than reasonable for the services she provides. Oh, and she’s Rachel McBride’s sister.”
He stared. “Seriously? The Rachel McBride we know?”
“Yes. Cody’s wife. Mom to those darling kids. The Rachel McBride who lives in town and has all those social media followers.”
That was certainly unexpected information. Rachel was tall, willowy, with a warm, friendly smile and long dark hair. She tended to wear flowered dresses and lived in a house with a literal picket fence.
He had only had one brief encounter with Jess but she had struck him as sharp-edged, independent, tough. Jess had short, choppy honey-colored hair, lean, sculpted features and a vague air of restlessness.
On reflection, he thought he could picture a resemblance in the eye color, that green that reminded him of the ocean on a stormy afternoon.
Rachel had moved to town around high school age, he thought he remembered. She had lived with Kurt and Jan Miller. He only knew that because the Millers’ older daughter had dated one of his friends.
“I didn’t know Rachel had a sister.”
“I wouldn’t have known about the connection myself, though I think Rachel had mentioned Transitions in passing to me. But my friend who recommended Jess mentioned Cape Sanctuary to her and Jess told her about her sister here.”
Rachel was married to one of the subs who often did work for Nate at his construction company. He had always found Cody a good guy, honest and hardworking. He had even socialized with the McBrides on occasion.
That made him feel slightly better about the whole thing. If nothing else, he would probably be able to track her down if she absconded with any of his family’s valuables.
“You’ve already gone through your father’s bookshelves and taken the books you wanted. Do you want to go through his office one more time to see if there’s anything else you would like to keep, before we start purging things tomorrow?”
No. He wanted his father back, he didn’t want to try holding on to the memory of Jack Whitaker through inanimate objects.
“I’ll take a look,” he said.
He hadn’t spent much time in his father’s study in the six months since his death. The scent of dusty old books and leather furniture hit him like a two-by-four to the gut.
He stood helpless for a moment, lost in his grief for the man who had wanted so much for Nate to follow in his academic footsteps.
He was picking out a book on tying flies and another collection of short stories by an author they had both admired when Sophie came in.
“It smells like Grandpa in here,” she said.
“Yeah.”
She inhaled, closing her eyes as if to absorb it into her skin. When she opened her eyes, he thought he saw glimpses of his sweet
daughter before she looked away.
“I’m done with my assignment. My friend Maria texted while I was working and asked if I could go to a slumber party at her house.”
“When?”
“Friday. Her mom will be there so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Which gave him only about a million other things to worry about when it came to his child.
“Who’s going to be at this slumber party?”
“Just some kids from school.”
“Which kids?”
“I don’t know all of them. She goes to the Catholic school and some of her friends from there will be going.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Boys?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t told me everyone who’s coming. Do you need every single name on the list?”
By her defiance, he suspected there was far more to the story than she was letting on. “Yes. Or at least the number of Maria’s mom so I can ask her.”
“That is so stupid. You don’t trust me. I feel like I’m living with the NSA or something. Why do you have to know every detail of my life? I’ll be fourteen years old in only five months.”
“Right. So that’s four years and five months longer during which I’m still responsible for keeping you safe and out of juvenile detention.”
“I might as well be in jail. Even prisoners get time off once in a while for good behavior.”
Maybe you could show some good behavior once in a while. Then we can talk.
He opted not to inflame the situation more by saying that. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m only concerned for my daughter’s physical and emotional safety.”
The look she gave him would have soured the milk of a whole pasture full of cows.
“I’m going home. My head hurts.”
“Fine. Put your phone on the charger when you get home. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She glared at him and stomped out. He followed and saw that she at least lifted her cranky mood long enough to hug her grandmother.
“Night, Gram. I had a really fun day today.”
The Path to Sunshine Cove Page 4