by Olivia Miles
“You adored him,” Gemma reminded her, realizing that she was speaking in the past tense and not sure how that made her feel. She’d been so caught up in her own breakup, she hadn’t considered that Hope could be having struggles of her own. Had she not seen the warning signs? She frowned, trying to replay the past few months, but she was certain that she hadn’t missed anything. That Hope hadn’t let on. More than that, she hadn’t shared.
Just like Mom, Gemma thought sadly. But the trait had carried down, to all of them in their own ways. They all hid their true fears, from the world, from each other, even maybe from themselves.
Hope was quiet for a long moment. “Yes. I suppose I did adore him.”
She patted her thighs and stood up, as if that was that, the conversation was over. And just as quickly as she’d broken down, she had pulled herself together. She was Hope again, with her honey-blond hair smoothed away from her face, standing tall and thin, looking elegant as always, even when she should have been a gawky and gangly teenager.
“I had a reason for coming up here, actually, and it wasn’t just to bring you food. I’m having a little dinner party. Sunday at seven.”
“A dinner party?” Gemma wasn’t so sure what her sister expected from this. Usually her parties took weeks, if not months to plan. They were catered events with long invite lists.
“Something small and casual. I’ll cook. But…I thought it might be a good way for all of us to spend time together. You, me, and Ellie.”
Hope gave her a pointed look and Gemma knew better than to argue. It might be a good way to smooth things over with Ellie. A party, with other guests. A celebration of sorts. And now that she was further along in her book, she could almost look forward to a night off.
“Who would we invite?” Simon was the first name that popped to mind. Ellie would be happy about this.
Hope shrugged. “Invite the caretaker from next door if you want.”
Gemma was flustered that her sister had even noticed her talking to Leo, but the idea was appealing. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “He might not be into that type of thing.”
Hope gave her a sly smile as she set a hand on the doorknob. “I have a feeling it’s exactly his type of thing.”
Gemma didn’t feed into that comment, even if she knew she’d still be thinking about it long after Hope had gone back downstairs. She felt a connection with Leo, and Hope had picked up on it too.
“Who are you inviting?” she asked. After all, it wouldn’t be a party without guests.
Hope hesitated, then, in a carefully poised tone, said, “A friend.”
“The lady from the shop?” Gemma asked. She took a big bite of her sandwich. God, it tasted good.
“No.” Hope hesitated. “Someone I met on the ferry.”
Gemma stopped chewing. “A man? Oh, Hope!”
“He’s just a friend,” Hope said, giving her a stern look.
Gemma felt uneasy about this, but she knew she was in no position to argue. She didn’t know what went on in Hope’s household anymore than Hope knew about what went on in the parts of her life she kept hidden from the world. It had all been as big of an illusion as her relationship with Sean.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Gemma pleaded, and Hope let out a bemused snort.
“When have I ever been anything but careful? That’s just the problem,” Hope said. “I never took risks. I was never free to. Or, at least, I didn’t think I was.”
Gemma sensed that there was more to that last insinuation than Hope was saying directly. “I toed the line, too.”
“Yes, but they didn’t have the same expectations for you. Face it, Gemma. All the pressure was on me. And Ellie…”
They both knew that their father had expectations of Ellie, but that he’d given up.
“Dad always knew that you and Ellie were creative. But you were willing to make a plan for yourself. You stayed within the lines. Ellie did not.” Hope raised an eyebrow, and Gemma knew it was true. She’d taken her creative energy and applied it to a corporate job, and then she’d stayed at that job, however miserable she was, until she had established herself. Proven herself. She could have taken something less conventional. Freelanced, or working for a small paper. But every step she’d taken had been deliberate, and designed to look…successful.
And recently, she understood firsthand how it felt to be anything but successful. It was uncertain. And scary.
And lonely.
“Maybe I’ll go into town and try Ellie’s art class tonight,” Gemma said.
They exchanged a small smile, one that almost reassured Gemma that everything would be all right even though nothing felt right anymore.
“Let me know about the dinner and who you end up inviting,” Hope said as she opened the door.
Gemma’s heart sped up at the thought. She would ask Leo.
That’s what friends did, after all…
***
Ellie was setting up for the class when Gemma arrived, carrying a box of cookies from the bakery, hoping that it was a worthy peace offering.
While she’d had every intention of visiting the studio sooner, she hadn’t felt welcome to before now, and from the flash of Ellie’s eyes when she entered, she wondered if she still wasn’t.
“I come in peace,” she said, handing over the bakery box. “And an invitation. To a party at the cottage. Sunday night. Seven o’clock. Hope’s idea,” she added, lest there be any confusion.
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about wanting to sell the house?” Ellie’s eyes lit up with hope that Gemma struggled to look at.
She sighed. “Can we not talk about the house for right now? I’d like to enjoy each other’s company a bit. I’ve missed you, Ellie. I want to have a nice time together here, the way we used to.”
Ellie’s smile was hesitant. “I’d like that too.”
Relieved, Gemma looked around the studio. She’d always admired her sister’s work, but the paintings she had hanging at the cottage were just a glimpse of what she had on display here.
“Oh, Ellie! This is amazing! I’m so impressed!”
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “You know my work.”
“Yes, but this is all so…” She pulled in a breath, realizing now just why Ellie didn’t want to sell the cottage. It wasn’t about the house. It was about the life she had here. The one she’d created for herself.
“I wish Dad would see this,” she said, giving her sister a long look.
Ellie’s jaw firmed, and she began to unfold the stack of chairs she had leaning against the wall. “He wouldn’t care. He’s already made up his mind about me.”
Maybe so, but Ellie should still be proud of herself. And their father should be proud of her too.
“So this party…” Ellie was clearly eager to change the subject, and Gemma didn’t fight her. She took a chair from the stack and added it to the circle that Ellie was forming.
“It’s small, but knowing Hope, she’ll go overboard. She apparently needed at least forty-eight hours to prepare, hence the reason for Sunday instead of tomorrow.” The sisters locked eyes and smiled. “She’s inviting someone…a friend…that she met on the ferry.”
Ellie looked curious, but didn’t elaborate, and Gemma was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to explain what Hope was up to when she didn’t even understand it herself. A divorce from Evan? Impossible. Knowing Hope, she would wake up tomorrow embarrassed at the omission, smooth it over with a laugh, and never speak of it again.
Like they’d been trained to do, she thought sadly.
“So we can each bring a guest?” Ellie asked.
Gemma nodded. Casually, she said, “I might invite Leo. He’s done a great job with the yard and—”
“And he’s super hot?” Ellie set down a chair and stared at her frankly.
“You noticed?” Gemma asked weakly.
Ellie laughed. “You’d have to be blind not to notice. Edward talks about him all the time, pr
obably hoping that something will develop between us. He’s not my type though. He’s too much in his head for me. Besides, I saw the way you two were talking the other day. Before I interrupted,” Ellie added.
An awkward silence filled the room. Finally, Gemma said, “So how many people come to the class?”
“As many as I have seats for,” Ellie said briskly. After a pause, she said, “I happen to have one extra chair, if you’re interested.”
Gemma smiled. “I’d like that.”
Together, they finished setting up the room, and they’d just put out the last easel when the door opened. Gemma didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The flush creeping up Ellie’s cheeks said nearly as much as her smile.
Gemma suppressed a grin and turned to see Simon. Ellie was right; he had improved with age.
“Gemma!” Simon gave that dazzling grin of his that almost even made her swoon. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“You too!” Gemma gave him a quick hug. After a brief exchange of how his parents and sister were, she said, “Are you…here for the class?”
She glanced back at Ellie, whose eyes were as wide as saucers now. Filled with light. And…hope. Almost enough to make her feel it too.
Simon sank his hands into his pockets and glanced bashfully from Gemma to Ellie. “If…that’s okay?”
Ellie opened her mouth, but Gemma wasn’t about to let her speak first. “Of course it’s okay. Ellie was just saying she had one slot left. Popular class she’s offering here.”
She saw the look of gratitude that washed over her sister’s face, and she gave her a quick wink.
“I was just helping to set up and drop off some cookies, but I’ve got to run now. More work to do tonight.”
“My mom told me you’re a writer now,” Simon said.
Ah, the island. She didn’t even mind the gossip tonight.
“That’s right, and I’m afraid I’m on a deadline, so…I should probably run. And I told Hope I’d help her with the party.”
Simon’s interest seemed to pique. “Party?”
“This Sunday,” Gemma said cheerfully. “Ellie will fill you in.” She gave her sister a little wave. “Ellie, I’ll see you back at home?”
Ellie nodded, giving her a wide grin that tugged at her heartstrings.
Home, she thought, as she pushed out the door, leaving Ellie and Simon alone in the studio. More and more, that was exactly what Sunset Cottage was feeling like, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Chapter Nineteen
Ellie
The weekend had passed quickly and in a few minutes the guests would arrive. Male guests, as luck would have it, because thanks to Gemma’s nudge the other night, Ellie saw no way out of inviting Simon to the party, even if the rational side of her brain told her that she shouldn’t.
But when had she ever listened to that inner voice? If anyone were to ask her father, the answer would be: never.
Besides, he had come to her art class. Ellie still couldn’t stop smiling when she thought of the suggestive glances Darcy had given her all through the hour. At first she feared that Darcy would interrogate the poor guy, make things awkward for everyone, but she had behaved and silently observed instead.
The weather had held up, just as they all hoped it would, and if Ellie hadn’t been home all day, helping her sisters prepare for the party, she would have taken her bike on a ride around the island with a canvas and her supplies in her basket, waiting for inspiration to strike.
Hope had organized everything, of course. She’d handed Ellie a list yesterday morning that Ellie took one look at and knew would require more than one trip to town. Her bicycle basket only held so much, and Hope was asking for several bottles of wine, various cheeses, grapes, figs, an assortment of crackers and bread—and that was just for the appetizer!
Still, they’d managed to get it all done, even when Hope decided a little late in the day this afternoon to send her back to town for more fruit, because she was going to make a cocktail from the wine, seeing as it was turning out to be such a warm night.
For now, the island felt quiet, even for a Sunday, like it was still theirs and theirs alone. And for the first time in months, Ellie almost dreaded the influx of people. Right now, the island was perfect, just as it was.
She came downstairs from getting dressed in one of her usual cotton sundresses and a bright pink cardigan and glanced out onto the porch, smiling in anticipation. She could just picture them all sipping the sangria that Hope had made as the sun went down and the sky filled with rainbow colors that she would never grow tired of. Simon would remember what it was like to spend so many evenings on that very porch and question why he gave it all up and how he might get it all back. It was just the thing she needed to finally get him to admit that she was the one that he loved. That he’d always loved her and always would.
The wicker conversation set had been repositioned so that now there was a view of the lake from all angles. And the matching round dining table was now covered in a pale-blue tablecloth that Hope must have bought in town. White plates were already set up at their respective places, along with wine glasses, and in the center was a tasteful-sized arrangement of tulips, the colors of which matched some of the new pillows that Hope had set up on the armchairs and sofas.
“You’ve really made yourself at home here,” Ellie said, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, even if the cottage was just as much Hope’s as it was hers. Maybe Hope wouldn’t want to sell. Maybe they could keep the cottage and all would go on just as it was.
Only she didn’t want things to go on as they were. She wanted change. She wanted more than what she’d had, even more than her art studio, she was beginning to realize.
She wanted love. Specifically, she wanted Simon. The island was better with him here. Her life was better with him here. For so many years, she’d abandoned the idea of finding someone to share her life with; she’d forgotten the excitement and fulfillment that came from connecting with someone.
“I’ll light the candles closer to the time that everyone arrives,” Hope was saying, more to herself than to Ellie. “And I should probably check on the appetizers.”
“Let me,” Ellie said. She was eager to help, but Hope gave her a knowing look. “Let me help, Hope. You take on too much sometimes.”
Hope raised an eyebrow. “You know, you’re right. I never thought of it like that, but yes. Thank you. Okay, the crab bites are in the kitchen, if you want to check on those and help with the salad? Maybe cut some tomatoes?”
She was happy to help, eager really. It would settle the nerves that had been bubbling inside her, leaving her restless all since Simon had said good-bye on Friday night, right after the class had ended, with the promise of seeing her tonight, at the house.
She walked into the kitchen, hoping she remembered where Gran had kept the cutting boards. Really, she’d had no personal need for such things recently. But Hope had already found them and set them on the counter. The entire kitchen had also been transformed, and on the table was a cheese plate, complete with crackers, dried fruits, fresh grapes and figs, and sliced baguette and crackers.
Ellie’s stomach grumbled as she reached for a slice of cheddar, but she heard a voice snap behind her, “Don’t even think about it.”
She turned to see Gemma standing in the doorway, grinning mischievously, and when Gemma looked at her like that, Ellie couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe for one more night, she could put her hurt feelings aside. It was nice, spending time with her sisters like this, but she couldn’t help worry what would happen when the party was over and the big, horrible thing they’d decided not to discuss right now reared again.
“You know that Hope will kill you if you mess up her cheese platter,” Gemma whispered, darting her eyes toward the side door to the porch.
Ellie sighed and dropped her hand. It was true. And Hope tended to get wound up over formalities. Today, though, she’d been differen
t. Ellie had even caught her humming while she lit the votive candles on the porch. “She seems to be in a good mood tonight.”
“Hope loves to entertain. At least, I think she does.”
“What are you talking about it?” Ellie looked at Gemma as if she’d gone crazy. “Hope adores entertaining. Why else would she have come up with the idea of having this party?”
Gemma said nothing as she reached for an already open bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured a glass. They both knew better than to taste the sangria before the guests had arrived. Hope would have their heads.
Ellie, feeling the nerves build up inside her, took a glass from the cabinet and helped herself too. “Simon’s coming tonight,” she said a little breathlessly.
“I figured as much, from the way he was looking at you on Friday,” Gemma said, her eyes wide, waiting to hear more. Gemma was a good listener. Always had been. It’s why Ellie had always been so drawn to her, why it was always so easy to look past the little hurdles that seemed to interrupt their relationship. Underneath it was a friend, a confidante, and someone who knew and accepted her, even if she didn’t always agree with her. It was more than Ellie could say for the rest of them, even Hope.
Hope loved her, of course, but under it all, Ellie had always felt a prickle of insecurity around her eldest sister. After all, Hope was the perfect daughter. And she was…not.
“Thanks for the boost,” Ellie said, grinning. “I might not have asked him if you hadn’t mentioned things.”
“Really? Why not?” Gemma looked so perplexed that Ellie almost told her that he was engaged. But telling her would mean having to think about it, and that would ruin the entire evening, and not just her good mood.
Besides, she was starting to wonder about this engagement, and not just because of what Darcy had said. Simon had come to her studio. Then her art class. And now he was coming here, tonight.
After all these years… Her stomach rolled over with excitement.
Before Ellie could respond to Gemma, Hope strolled into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed and the hair around her face coming free of her ponytail in wisps. But she didn’t look tired or haggard, and she didn’t look cool and calm either. She looked happy. Happier than Ellie had seen her look this entire visit.
