In the most nonchalant voice Carrie could muster, she finally asked the question she’d been holding all night.
“So, any news about Jen’s house?” She looked down at the creme brûlée and tried to feign disinterest, as if she were just making conversation.
“I shouldn’t really be talking about it with you, as you’re not the client, but generally speaking, I’m pretty pleased with what I’ve found. The location is spectacular, and at the right price I think we could have an offer pretty quickly.”
Carrie’s pretense of indifference disappeared, along with the last bite of custard.
“Oh,” she said. “That’s too bad.”
Dirk’s eyebrows rose as he took a sip of his coffee. “Too bad? I thought—well, I know her father and brother, whom I’ve spoken with also, are quite eager to sell.”
“That’s them, not Jen,” she said slowly, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin. “In Jen’s view, nothing could be worse.”
Dirk leaned back in his chair, frowning. “I don’t understand.”
Carrie took a deep breath and explained the situation to Dirk. She told him about how they’d all grown up there, learned to swim there, what had happened to Allen and how Jen looked forward to raising grandkids there.
When she finished, he whistled and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look at the view of the harbor.
“I guess I can understand that. No matter how high the price is, with a third of the profits, she’d never get another house down here.”
“No,” Carrie said. “And she knows it. We all know it.”
Dirk paid the check and stood, scooting Carrie’s chair out for her and holding out his arm for her.
She slipped her arm through his and looked up at him. “It’s just a pretty sad state of affairs,” she said as they left the restaurant.
“Can I offer you a ride home?” Dirk asked when they reached his SUV.
Carrie shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I could use a breath of fresh air. And I appreciate your help with the fundraiser. I imagine I’d make quite a mess of it on my own.”
He smiled and nodded, tipping an invisible hat in her direction as he turned and left.
She started her walk toward Jen’s house, wondering if there was anything at all to be done about this situation. She was afraid that there wasn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
Jen and Faith had been back at the beach house for only a couple of minutes, but long enough for Faith to get the binoculars. They took turns peering at the palm tree, trying to figure out what could possibly be making so much noise—and such a big mess.
They’d been working on the house constantly for the past week and hadn’t been outside as much as they’d hoped they would be—they hadn’t even gone paddleboarding yet. But every night as they watched the sunset, the racket from that palm tree almost drowned out their conversation.
“I think it’s probably birds.”
Jen laughed as Faith handed her the binoculars.
“I’m sure it’s birds. What else would it be up in a palm tree?”
“We’ve both had rats in the palm trees before. Could have been a rat, but I think whatever it is is too big. They seem to be more active in the early morning. Maybe I’ll sleep on the deck and see if I can get a better look in the morning.”
“Ah, you guys are still up.” Carrie climbed onto the porch and sat down.
Jen set the binoculars down and stepped over Daisy, getting back to her chair.
“Yep, we are. We had a really nice time. The ravioli was out of this world. How did you fare?”
Carrie drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Believe it or not, after we got over all the ridiculousness that was Betty White, it was kind of fun. He’s all right. Could be worse.”
“Whew,” Faith said. “We were a little worried about you, to be honest.”
“Worried? Why? Because my own mouth is my worst enemy?” Carrie laughed.
“Something like that,” Jen said. “So, what’s the deal with the fundraiser?”
“Well, he seems to be pretty organized. Good pick by my mom, actually. He’s going to take care of the bigger items, and he was fine with us getting smaller ones. You know, restaurant gift certificates, stuff like that. He’s going to hit up the bigger companies for things with a higher dollar value. Maybe a week at a timeshare in Hawaii. Stuff like that.”
The palm tree rustled again, and Jen reached for the binoculars.
“That sounds great. Should make a lot of money for the hospital. Oh, Joe’s mom said we could take our pick from his dad’s belongings. The ones in that room he was always in.”
Carrie sat up, her eyes wide. “You’re serious?”
Jen frowned, not sure why Carrie was so interested.
“Sure. She said so. Joe said he’d go through it with me another time. Why?”
Carrie stood and began to pace the deck. “Don’t you remember the time we snuck in that room? He guarded it like Fort Knox. Never let anyone in.”
Faith gestured for the binoculars and Jen handed them over.
“Vaguely. Hm, now that you mention it, wasn’t it a lot of Disney stuff?”
“Yes, exactly. And model trains. He really was quite a collector.”
“Well, that’s good. She really didn’t want any of it. But if it’s stuff that’s worth a lot of money, we should let her know that before we take it, don’t you think?”
Carrie sat and tapped her chin. “Sure. I think maybe my mom has someone who could help us with that. Or maybe Dirk.”
“Oh, Dirk. Mm-hm. We’ll ask Dirk,” Faith said with a sly smile.
“Stop. He’s nice. That is all.”
“Fair enough,” Jen said. “Any info about the beach house?”
Carrie snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. He said that he’s almost ready to make a recommendation about a price. He’s going to call your dad this week. Perfect timing for you all to talk about it next weekend at the barbecue.”
Jen didn’t hold out much hope that it would change anything. They hadn’t had any luck at all interviewing potential renters, so that wasn’t the answer. Either the people were older and didn’t want to navigate the stairs, or younger and couldn’t afford it. So she had no Plan B to present her family with. She’d just have to rely on the memories and hope she could tug at their heartstrings. But she was pretty positive that wasn’t going to be enough.
Chapter Twenty
Jen tingled with excitement the morning of the Fourth of July. She and Faith had spent all week planning, in between house projects. They’d patched the paneling, secured the stairs, stopped the toilet from running, and fixed the creaky gate. Jen felt sure that when her family came, at least nothing would fall apart—at least not until after they’d left.
But it was all cosmetic, and she knew it. They’d patched the awning, but they still needed a new one. The roof wasn’t going to last too many more winters, and half of the windows wouldn’t even open. With any luck, nobody would even try.
Her son Michael and his wife were both coming, and Faith had gotten a “maybe” from Maggy. Jen knew her dad would be there, and Greg had finally relented and responded to her numerous texts with a “Sure.” She had no idea who was coming with him—hopefully his wife, at minimum—but she made enough of Nana’s famous potato salad just in case.
They’d timed lunch with the Fourth of July Old Glory Boat Parade that American Legion sponsored every year. In some years past, they’d decorated a boat and ridden in it themselves, but this year, Jen wanted to make sure they had plenty of time to talk about the house. She needed to know what was going to happen so that she could plan what she was going to do.
Faith busied herself with party preparations—they were barbecuing ribs and adding baked beans and corn on the cob and had made oodles of potato salad. Everything was almost ready. There wasn’t much left to do, since they’d made apple pies the day before.
“Sounds like World War III in there,” Faith said, reaching for the binoculars. “Guess they don’t like each other too much.”
“That’s weird.” Jen took the binoculars that Faith held out and took a look. “Faith, wait a minute. I think those are babies.”
“What?” Faith took the binoculars and looked through them again. “Oh, wow, I think you’re right. They look pretty young, but they’re still kind of big.”
“How exciting. We can watch them grow up. Or kill each other, if that’s what they’re doing.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to see that,” Faith said, setting the binoculars down and turning back to the task at hand.
“Herons?” Carrie looked up into the palm tree as she passed under it, carefully stepping over a big pile of—something.
“We think so. Would that be a possibility?” Faith asked.
Carrie nodded as she came through the gate, carrying a jar of pickles. She held it out to Jen with a sheepish grin. “It was all I could think of.”
“Thanks,” Jen said, surprised that Carrie remembered to bring anything at all, but grateful that she had.
Carrie turned back to Faith. “Yes, sure could be. They’re all over at the top of the peninsula. And by some of the car dealerships. They’re having a terrible time with them dropping those big piles of—debris—onto some of the new cars. Really expensive ones. And they can’t move the birds or take out the trees. California, you know. They’re not real happy.”
“Who knew?” Faith asked, taking one last peek through the binoculars. “They are sure beautiful birds.”
“Yeah, but lousy housekeepers. Or maybe good ones, I guess, as all that stuff isn’t inside their nests anymore.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Jen said, setting the last bowl on the table and glancing at her watch. “They should all be here any minute.”
As if on cue, Jen’s son Michael and his wife Amber appeared.
“Grandpa’s right behind us,” Michael said to Jen before he turned to Faith and Carrie. “And how are my bonus moms? Haven’t seen you guys in a long time.”
Carrie and Faith both laughed and squeezed them all with hugs, one at a time. They’d barely had time to say hello before Jen’s dad walked in the gate with a woman she’d never seen before on his arm. Jen froze in place at the sight, and everybody behind her fell into silence at the same time.
“Hello, Dad,” Jen finally squeaked out, giving him a peck on the cheek as the woman he’d brought with him took a step forward. Jen turned toward her, her hand outstretched. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jim’s daughter, Jen.”
The woman nodded. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Susanna. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for such a long time.”
“A long time?” Jen echoed, glancing at her father. He just shrugged and walked up the steps, hugging his grandchildren, then Faith and Carrie. Suddenly, Jen realized that all eyes were on her and Susanna, a bit of anxiety trickling through the group as they watched in silence.
“Yes, a long time. Your father and I have been dating for several months now.”
“Several months?” Jen echoed again, turning back to see her dad shrug one more time and turn to go in the house.
“Yes, and we’ve been having so much fun. It’s so nice to finally see the beach house. Jim talks about it a lot. It’s lovely.”
Jen sighed and gave in on this recent development. Her mom had been gone a while—it wasn’t that. She wanted her dad to be happy. But why hadn’t he told her? Why were there suddenly so many secrets in her family? She just wanted it to stop and get everything out in the open, so she turned and smiled at Susanna, held out her arm, and welcomed her into the house.
While everybody chatted and ate, Jen bounced between checking her phone for a message from her brother and looking down the street, hoping he’d walk up. She gave up by the time all that was left of the ribs were a bowl full of bones and the corn was down to nubs.
Her dad and Michael hooted and hollered at the boats as they passed, cheering louder for the ones with the better decorations. Jen took the last of the empty plates into the kitchen, where Faith, Carrie and Jen’s daughter-in-law, Amber, washed dishes.
“No Greg?” Faith asked as she handed Amber a platter to dry. There was no dishwasher in the house, so they all were experienced with chipping in to do dishes.
Jen took another quick glance out the window and down the street.
“Nope. He said he was going to come. I just don’t understand him anymore.”
Amber handed the platter to Carrie, who put it back in the cupboard over the refrigerator that had been its home for the past decades.
Faith sat at the kitchen island, hopping up as the orange counter stool creaked.
“Oh, goodness. Seems like things are getting old around here.”
Jen sighed. “I know. But nobody wants to pitch in the money to get new stuff.”
“I heard a little bit about that from Michael.” Amber stood and walked around the living room.
Pictures of her wedding to Michael held their place among pictures of Michael as a baby—all the kids as babies. More recent pictures of them when they had learned to swim, and even more recently when they were teenagers with surfboards.
“Is this you?” Amber asked, pointing at a picture with two young teenage girls in bikinis and surfboards of their own. “You and Carrie?”
Carrie crossed over and peered at the picture Amber was pointing to.
“Oh, wow. Yeah. It is. Right before your mother-in-law swore she’d never surf again. Kind of got rolled by the waves.”
Jen laughed. “Hey, I did my best to fit in as a California girl. My hair turned green from swimming, so there’s that. But I never got the hang of surfing. Didn’t like the sand up my nose, I guess.”
“No, but you hung in there sailing with the boys. That was never my thing. Not after they beat us in that sabot race one summer.”
Jen reached for a photo on the mantle and handed it to Amber.
“This is Michael’s dad and me that day. They beat us, but when Carrie turned to other sports, Allen and Joe kind of decided to let me tag along. I learned a lot.”
“Yeah, and she taught me,” Faith said. “I bet we could give them a run for their money now.”
Amber ran her hand over the glass on the picture. “I’m so sorry I never met Michael’s dad. And his friend Joe. I’ve heard a lot about them.”
Jen nodded and put the picture back in its place on the mantle.
“Just so happens he’s turned up this summer. Maybe you’ll get a chance to meet him.” She turned to look around the room—at all the pictures and memories. “A lot has happened in this place.”
“I know, and there’s more to come,” Amber said as she walked the room and looked at all the pictures on the wall.
Jen, Carrie and Faith all exchanged quick glances. They knew Amber and Michael had been talking about having kids and they’d been anxious for an announcement.
Amber turned, and her eyebrows rose when she saw they were all staring at her. She laughed and said, “No, not yet. We’re still in the talking stages. But when we do have kids, I’d sure want them to have the opportunity to be down here, like you guys have. It would be a shame if they couldn’t.”
“You’re preaching to the choir here,” Jen said as she put the last of the dishes away. “Tell grandpa. And Uncle Greg.”
“I would if I could,” Amber said. “But Grandpa’s been pretty busy with Susanna, and I haven’t seen Greg in ages.”
Faith grabbed one of the apple pies, and Carrie picked up the plates and forks. “Well, Jen has some tricks up her sleeve, don’t you, Jen? We’re not going to let this happen.”
Amber smiled at
Jen, opened the door for Faith and Carrie, and followed them out onto the deck.
Jen paused for a moment, looking out the window again. She wasn’t sure at all if she had any tricks left. And even if they did, would they work? She really didn’t know anymore.
Chapter Twenty-One
Michael set down his fork after the last bite of apple pie on his plate. “Amber says that dad’s friend Joe is in town.”
“True,” Jen replied. “I really should have invited him. I guess I wasn’t thinking. He’s asked after you boys and would love to see you. Darn it.”
Faith nudged Jen with her elbow and whispered, “Speak of the devil.”
Jen looked where Faith was pointing to see Joe round the corner and look up at the house. Jen smiled—he was wearing his gondolier costume. One of their workers must have called out sick or something.
“Joe,” she called and waved him over.
“Hi, everybody.” Joe climbed the steps with his gondolier hat under his arm and a sheepish smile on his face.
“Good grief, Joe. You look the same as you did decades ago,” Jen’s father said as he shook Joe’s hand. “Same outfit and everything.”
Joe laughed. “Yeah, I guess so, Mr. Watson. I’m filling in at the gondolas. My dad passed away, and we’re deciding what to do with the business.”
“Good man. I say keep it. It’s a goldmine, I bet, and looks like fun.”
Jen reintroduced him to Michael.
“Wow,” Joe said, looking from Jen to Michael and back again. “You sure look like your dad.” His eyes clouded for a moment, and he shot another quick glance at Jen. She felt her heart tug at the same time, knowing that this would be difficult for him. For all of them.
“I’m so sorry I can’t stay. I’ve got a reservation and I’ve got to get down to the dock. Jen, any chance we could schedule another get-together? Maybe in a few weeks? I’d love to catch up with everybody. Just kind of indisposed at the moment.”
“We’ve got to get going, too,” Michael said as he reached for Amber’s hand. “But we’d love to take a rain check. Schedule something, though. Just let us know where and when, Mom.”
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