by Olivia Miles
Gemma smiled sadly now, wishing that Ellie was sitting here beside them. That just for one evening, they could go back to feeling the way they used to when they came to this cottage.
“Maybe I was out of line last night,” she said, when the last sliver of the glowing sun faded into the distance. “But this house is a lot of upkeep, and I’m not sure that Ellie is up to the challenge. It’s a lot of space for one person. And a lot of work.” She glanced at Hope, not wanting what she said next to come out the wrong way. “A lot of money, too.”
They could ask their parents to help them get it in order, she knew, especially if a sale was involved. After all, this was their father’s house just as much as it was theirs, though not in any legal sense. Still, somewhere deep inside of him, he must care, must have some memories of this place that made him smile?
This house, with the weather-worn paint and windows that swelled shut on the hottest days of summer, and the ancient fridge and oven that took an hour to preheat, held no value to Bart Morgan.
Hope seemed to consider something for a moment. “Who mowed the lawn?”
“Leo,” Gemma said, causing Hope to raise her eyebrow. She quickly added, “He takes care of the Taylors’ house.”
“The shirtless guy?” When Gemma gave a tight nod, Hope slipped her a smile. “He’s cute.”
“Is he?” Wrong thing to say. She’d never been a good liar, even a casual one. And Leo being cute wasn’t a matter of opinion. It was a fact. “I thought that he could help us out while we’re here. Ellie doesn’t seem to have the ability, and I certainly don’t have the time, and you’re busy with the girls.”
Hope fell silent. She took a bite of her soup. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind doing something else once in a while.”
“Still, the yard is big, and it’s in bad shape.” And if they were going to sell… She’d compiled a mental list of all the other things they might ask Leo to help with, once she had her sisters on board to sell the property. It would take some money, but she considered it a worthwhile investment.
“I’ve been thinking of doing something else,” Hope said, and Gemma took a moment to realize that her sister wasn’t talking about the yard or even Sunset Cottage anymore. “I’ve been thinking of going back to work.”
“A few years from now? When the girls are in school?”
“They still have another year of preschool and kindergarten is only half day, so…sooner.” Hope’s voice had risen to a tinny pitch and Gemma stared at her, knowing that there was definitely something going on that she wasn’t fully aware of. She’d always assumed that Hope loved being a stay-at-home mother. She was so devoted to it.
“What were you thinking of doing?” she asked carefully.
“I don’t know,” Hope said, staring at her plate. “That’s just the problem. I don’t know.”
“That makes two of us,” Gemma said. She leaned back into her chair and stared at the water, hoping that it might provide the answer, or at least the inspiration, that she needed to get through to tomorrow when she again faced a blank page…and an equally open future.
Chapter Eleven
Ellie
Ellie offered her class on a weekly basis, open to the public, but it was rare for a newcomer to attend. Today she had her usual crowd: Sally Hayworth who ran the island newspaper and always posted a little advertisement about Ellie’s classes at a discounted rate in exchange for extra help on her brushstrokes; Donna from the grocery; Joan Kessler who ran the inn up near the old lighthouse, though rumor was they might be selling soon, and who liked to hang her paintings in the lobby, even if they weren’t very good, not that Ellie would ever let on. There was Darcy, who led the quilting club and was one of Gran’s oldest friends, and then there were Ellie’s friends: Mandy, Naomi, and Lena, who came for support and the company.
Usually she liked her Friday night class. It gave her an opportunity to socialize, to catch up on all the island news, to have a few laughs and to remember the purpose of this all. She usually left the studio after each session thinking how much she loved the island, loved the people, loved what she did.
But tonight, all she wanted was for this class to end. It was Friday. Chances were strong that Simon was out and about. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t going to be joining her class, even though she had signs posted all over town. And yes, she had been watching the door, long after her last regular had come in and taken her usual seat.
Darcy, who missed nothing and forgot even less, caught her eye. Ellie felt her cheeks burn as she turned back to the canvas where she was meant to be demonstrating trees tonight. They were surprisingly difficult to capture well, and some of her students were more adept than others.
“I hear that we have had some surprise visitors in town this past week,” Darcy remarked as she swirled her paintbrush in her cup of water.
Ellie nodded and said, “Both my sisters are back, and Hope’s daughters are here too.”
“I saw Gemma at the coffeehouse the other day,” Lena chimed in, even though her eyes never strayed from her canvas. “Such a sad face. Terrible that the man would jilt her like that.”
“I don’t know if he really jilted her,” Ellie said, a little uneasily. She didn’t want to think about Gemma today, but now, when she did, it wasn’t with the same anger she’d felt last night. Gemma had experienced a life-altering setback in recent months. Could that be the sudden interest in selling the cottage? She’d talk to Hope, find out more. Hope was always reasonable; maybe together they could work things out. After all, if Gemma was willing to pull Hope onto her side, why couldn’t Ellie try to do the same?
“I’d rather be jilted than alone forever,” Mandy said with a sigh, and Darcy let out a loud snort.
“You’d rather have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?” she demanded, with a raised eyebrow arched, oddly, in Ellie’s direction. She dabbed at her canvas, even though Ellie was forever explaining the best technique with the brushstroke.
“I’m just saying that it might be nice to be loved…even for a little while.”
Ellie gave Mandy a sympathetic smile. It was no secret that Mandy had harbored feelings for Mack for the better part of three years. In other words, since the day Mack stepped foot on the island as the new owner of the pub which was located just next door to Main Street Sweets. Since then, Mandy found every excuse she could to visit the place. There were rumors, of course, that Mack had a few brief summer affairs over the years. There was never a shortage of seasonal hires, after all. Now, with summer upon them, she could see the anxiety in Mandy’s eyes.
“What about you, Ellie?” Darcy asked. “Do you feel the same?”
Ellie sighed and went back to her demonstration. “Oh, I don’t know…right now I don’t have time for romance, anyway. I have my business, and I’m trying to build up my inventory.”
“I meant to tell you, Ellie,” Naomi cut in, giving her a proud grin. “You know those three paintings you brought me on Monday? I already sold two.”
Ellie was astonished. That made four paintings in one week, and just at Lakeside Gifts. She hadn’t even checked on her inventory at the other shops in town. She made a mental note to do that this weekend.
Everyone cheered their congratulations, and Ellie felt her chest swell with pride. This was what Gemma had forgotten about, living in Chicago, where she could walk down the street every day for a month straight without seeing a single person she knew. But here, Ellie knew everyone, and they knew her. And even if there were some quirky personalities, and some downright difficult ones, she thought, glancing at Darcy, everyone cared. This was a community. It was special. And she wouldn’t leave it. She couldn’t.
Still, something in her chest was heavy when she thought of Darcy’s comment. A part of her did want love. Romance. Connection. Happiness. And right now, the only man on the island who could offer that was…
“I hear that Simon Webber and his parents are also back for the summer,” Darcy announce
d.
Naomi darted a glance in Ellie’s direction. Ellie did her best to feign nonchalance.
“Is that so?” Naomi remarked, and something in her tone told Ellie that she shouldn’t bother pretending this was brand-new information.
“I saw him around town,” Ellie said simply. “He’s engaged to be married.”
Naomi’s expression folded in disappointment that Ellie tried hard not to let bother her. But Darcy quickly jumped in, saying, “And the girl has already run off to Philly.”
My, word did travel fast around here.
“I’m sure she’ll be back,” Ellie said mildly.
“Perhaps,” Darcy said as she blended some shades of green paint and brought her brush to her canvas. “At the end of the day, most people end up exactly where they were meant to be.”
She glanced over at Ellie and gave a little wink, and because Ellie wanted to believe this, and because she knew support when she saw it and wasn’t one to turn away, she smiled, straight to the heart.
***
She wasn’t stalking him. Evening Island was small, and the locals knew all the best places, the ones that were tucked on cobblestone side streets, off the main strip, the ones that didn’t have quite as cute doors or signage or flowerpots flanking the windows. The ones that were understated. The ones that had been around forever, since Ellie first could remember.
The next afternoon, she happened to bicycle past his family property on her way back from the north side of the island, where she’d captured the most beautiful painting of the rocky shoreline and the light glistening over the surface off the water. She loved the way the water was so clear, as far as the eye could see, that you didn’t know where the shore ended and where it began. And, truth be told, she loved that her sisters wouldn’t think to look for her there.
Satisfied, she may have taken a slight detour on her way back to the studio, for the exercise, she told herself. Besides, it was a beautiful day for a bike ride. She didn’t often get out this way, and on the off chance that Simon happened to be, say, sitting on his porch, or working in the yard, she could stop, chat, and…
This was where the plan ended. Her knees had wobbled so hard that she’d nearly lost control of the bike as she’d turned onto his road, telling herself that she was free to go where she pleased, just like all the other tourists on their bikes, who had no idea that they happened to be pedaling past the summer house of possibly the world’s most handsome bachelor.
Because he was a bachelor. Until he was a married man. And from the sounds of things the other night, he might not really be getting married after all.
But no one had been outside the Webber house, and it was clear from the way the house looked dark and closed up that no one was home. Here on the island, few people had air-conditioning; really, there was no need for it. Windows were cracked, fresh air was let in, and even the hottest of days were made bearable by the lake effect.
Simon was not home. She felt as let down as she did pleased by this. If he wasn’t home, he would be in town. And she intended to find him.
She dropped her new painting and supplies off at the studio, and left her bike parked outside. It was Saturday and it was a sunny afternoon and the tourists were out and about, buying fudge and ice cream and renting bikes for a lap around the perimeter of the island—something she and Simon used to do so often that she had every twist and turn of the path burned into her memory as vivid as the taste of his lips against hers.
Now, she avoided that route. Took her shortcuts around the island. And Simon would probably be dodging the crawl of tourists who used to slow them down, make them share a glance and a smile, and give them an excuse to park their bikes on the closest patch of sand and climb up onto one of the big rocks that was half-submerged in the water, thigh to thigh, hand in hand.
She knew that Simon would be in none of those places. Simon would be at Hackney’s, Trillium Café, or maybe even the Dockside Grill. And she might just be frequenting one (or all?) of them today.
Maybe she’d see if Naomi wanted to join her. Or maybe she’d push her luck and go alone, see if her heart could handle another evening alone with Simon and all the emotions that he stirred up inside her.
Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the sensation of his kiss, the exact pressure of his mouth, the way he was always the last to pull away.
Right, she thought sternly, snapping herself out of it. She clearly needed a chaperone. She’d find Naomi. She needed to collect her check from her anyway.
She turned her bike at the next corner, slowing as she approached Lakeside Gifts. Up ahead, she saw Naomi standing a few storefronts down from her shop. She had seasonal help—a girl from Notre Dame who lived on the island from May through the end of August. Still, it was unlike her to step away from the store. Unless…
Ellie quickened her step and saw that, sure enough, Naomi was holding the small pocket flask she’d inherited from her grandfather half a decade ago. She rarely pulled it out, and had made a promise to old Pops to only keep his favorite whiskey in it, something that she’d rolled her eyes over at the time but still honored.
Ellie smothered a smile and willed herself not to laugh as she approached her friend. After all, this was a very stressful time for Naomi. Very, very hard on her nerves.
“They said hello,” Naomi hissed through wild eyes, and Ellie had to bite down on her lower lip. Hard. Through the open window, she could hear Jewel squawking loudly.
“Hello?” he called. “Hello? Helloooo? Hello. Hello?”
It was truly amazing just how many inflections of a single word that bird could conjure up.
She sighed and rested a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “How long has it been going on for?”
“Forty-five minutes,” Naomi said, blinking back tears. “And the shop doesn’t close until nine tonight.”
The bird squawked louder, desperate to get a response, and beside her, Naomi choked down another sip of her grandfather’s favorite libation.
“The thing is,” Ellie said gently. “Most people say…hello.”
“Shhhh!” Naomi’s eyes were huge as she turned to stare at her head-on. “He’ll hear you,” she whispered urgently. “He was just about to quiet down.”
Was he? Ellie wasn’t so sure of that. Still, the squawking did get a little louder. Frantic, really.
Naomi screwed the cap back on the flask. “It’s going to be a long afternoon,” she sighed, staring miserably down Main Street.
“Do you want me to take him to the studio?”
Naomi looked tempted, but then she shook her head. “The cage is too big to carry. Besides, I love the little guy. I just…” She gripped Ellie’s elbow as the bird let out another squawk. “That word! It won’t stop! I hear it even in my dreams!”
Now Ellie laughed. She had to. “Who was the offender this time?” she asked. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it ruined Naomi’s entire day. He didn’t stop until the shop closed and a blanket was put over his cage.
“A kid,” Naomi sighed. “I shouldn’t be mad, but…I’m sort of boiling.”
“Let your assistant cover for the rest of the day then. I’m thinking of getting a drink. Or a coffee.” Or…or where else could Simon be?
“Thanks, but we’re swamped. Nice weather. Can’t complain.”
“Well, if you change your mind, call me,” Ellie said.
Naomi nodded wearily as she stepped back into the shop. The bird calls were at a feverous pitch now. “I will. And thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she said, grinning. And it was, she thought, as she continued down the street. And it was another reason why there was no way in hell she was going to let her sisters talk her into selling Sunset Cottage.
She made quick stops at the other shops, taking down notes of the orders they wanted—taking special pride in Hill Street Gallery’s desire to showcase one of her larger paintings in their storefront window next week—and decided to go home, face he
r sisters, maybe chat with Hope a bit. Maybe Hope would hear her out, guide Gemma down the right path. Make her see that Sunset Cottage was the only thing good from their childhood. The only thing worth keeping.
She was halfway up West End Road when she heard her name being called out.
Her heart gave a lurch, and she steadied the handles of her bike. It couldn’t be. It was too good to be true. But as he called out again, she knew that it was him.
She slowed her pace as he caught up beside her, riding, to her complete amusement, a mint green cruiser complete with a white wicker basket.
“Don’t laugh,” he warned, but it was too late.
“Isn’t that your sister’s bike?” She hadn’t thought of it in years, but it was, she was certain of it. Simon’s sister Gina was four years older than him—she used to play with Hope.
“Something seems to have happened to mine in my absence,” he said ruefully.
“A lesson in not staying away so long next time,” she replied, but even though she was grinning, flirting even, she meant it.
He seemed to see the meaning too, as his grin sobered a bit. “Coming from town?”
It was fairly obvious, and she wondered if he felt as awkward as she did. It made her sad to think that two people who once knew each other so well could be reduced to stilted chitchat. “I was checking on some paintings,” she said. She hesitated, and then decided to share the news. “Hill Street Gallery is going to feature one in their window. Tomorrow I’ll decide which one in my studio is fit for the job.”
“That’s amazing, El!” He looked at her with such wonder, such intensity, that she felt herself blush. “I’ll have to come by your studio soon and see what you’ve been up to all these years.”
She swallowed hard. Kept her eyes on the road, because it hurt to look at him almost as much as it filled her heart with joy. “I’d like that.”
Still, she wouldn’t hold him to it. He was making conversation. Keeping things light. It was what adults did, and that’s what they were now, even if she didn’t really feel like one half the time. Hope was an adult, with her husband and kids. And Gemma…well, Gemma had nearly gotten married. She’d lived with Sean for years, had an entire busy life in the city.
