After All

by McLaughlin, Heidi

  Yes, life was looking up for Carly.

  She stood and went to the window and pushed the pane up. She closed her eyes as the voices from outside washed over her. The light breeze pushed against her white nightgown, and she smiled. She knew it was Skip and Austin greeting her, telling her how much they loved her. The only solace she took in the death of her husband and son was knowing that they were together.

  Carly left her curtains open as she retired to bed. She fluffed her pillows and rested her tired, aching body against them. She stared out the window at the moon; it was moving slowly toward the horizon but was still high enough to cast a glow into her room. The familiar tickle was back, and she cleared her throat, hoping to get rid of it. She was going to have to tell Brooklyn before too much more time passed. There were things she needed to know. Unfortunately, it was a conversation she wasn’t looking forward to.

  Her eyes closed, and she thought of Skip and Austin, out on their boat, reeling in their catch for the day. She had always been so proud of her men, more so of Austin for starting a successful fishing company at such a young age. Not that she had expected anything less from him. He had always known what he wanted and had never had any qualms about going after his dreams. Brooklyn even being one of them.

  He had confided in his mother about his relationship with Brooklyn. He had worried about Bowie and wondered if he was a better man for Brooklyn. Austin trusted that Bowie knew he’d never do anything to jeopardize their friendship. Brooklyn and Bowie were close, best friends, and that sometimes bothered Austin. Carly always reassured her son that Brooklyn loved him. She could see it in her eyes, and Bowie’s too. Austin wasn’t so sure. Brooklyn had dreams. She wanted to move, to head south and go to school, something Austin had promised her. He wanted to stay but couldn’t find the words to tell her, mostly because he thought she’d leave him. Leave him for her best friend, because as sure as he was of their love for him, Austin told her that Bowie likely loved Brooklyn more.

  After witnessing the closeness of Bowie and Brooklyn, Carly would agree with her son. Austin had tried hard to be a good man to Brooklyn but had had trouble prioritizing his life. When she should’ve come first, fishing did. He was no different than his father. They both had hooked the woman of their dreams and then set them aside while they continued their chosen paths.

  She thought more of Skip and the last time she saw him. She had been busy in the kitchen, the inn was full of guests, the dining room had tables full of people, and her cook had called out sick. Skip was leaving, heading out to sea. He had told her the night before it would take them a while to get where they were going. She remembered telling him to pack his warmer clothes because it was cold up north and she didn’t want him catching a cold. A cold would turn into pneumonia, and they were far too busy to deal with something like that.

  Before he left, he had wanted to speak to her, but she couldn’t leave the kitchen, or maybe it was that she hadn’t wanted to. Her business, much like Skip’s, was important to her. Her reputation in the community was stellar, and she didn’t want a mishap to tarnish that.

  He begged, and she brushed him off, offering him her cheek for a quick peck and asking him what day he was due back. “After the catch,” he told her. That meant once their onboard freezer had filled, they would come back. He said he would radio later and walked out of the kitchen.

  If Carly had known that was the last time she would see her husband, she would’ve driven him to the dock and walked him to his boat. She would’ve kissed him longingly and told him how much she loved him. She had put her job in front of her husband. Just as he had put his in front of his wife, and Austin had done the same to Brooklyn.

  That night, Carly and Austin had sat in Skip’s fishing shack and waited for the radio to come to life. Skip was hard to hear, but they were able to make out that he was in the Strait of Georgia. As with every new place they visited, Austin marked it on the map. Austin wished his father good luck, and Carly told him she’d watch for the pink sail to come into the harbor. They signed off for the last time.

  That summer the Strait of Georgia was experiencing unseasonably warm weather, often resulting in the occasional lightning storm. Boreas, the ship Skip Woods captained, had been hit, knocking out its entire electrical system. The crew was prepared to wait for the Coast Guard or a passing vessel. They just had to be patient. While they waited, the crew worked to repair the electricity, and Skip started Morse code. Hour after hour he flashed a light toward land, three quick flickers, followed by three longer flashes and three quick flickers.

  When Carly and the other wives hadn’t heard from their husbands, they came together and hired a crew to go out and look for them. With no last-known coordinates, the search took longer than expected. It was weeks before the ship returned to port, being towed by another. They radioed ahead; the Boreas was coming home with one lost soul on board. No one knew who had died. As the ships came in, the wives held hands, waiting for their husbands to disembark.

  Carly knew, though; she felt it deep in her bones. If Skip were alive, the pink sail would’ve been raised and blowing in the wind. Her fears had been confirmed when the Boreas crew offered their condolences. It was Skip’s best friend who told her that Skip had a heart attack, and there was nothing they could do for him.

  Skip Woods had died on their third day stranded at sea. One of the crew had fired the flare gun and startled Skip. The incident sent his heart into tachycardia, and he couldn’t recover. That was the coroner’s official report.

  Carly refused to believe her husband had a bad heart. He was a fit man who watched what he ate and exercised regularly. He was a social drinker and never did drugs. The coroner had to be wrong. She had his body sent to Seattle because she felt the medical staff in the big city were more knowledgeable. When the report also came back that her husband had suffered from high cholesterol and blood pressure, she was left with no other option than to believe his time had come.

  “Nonnie, are you still awake?”

  Carly opened her eyes at the sound of her granddaughter’s voice. She smiled into the darkness and pulled the comforter back to invite Brystol to sit next to her. “Are you coming to say good night?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she said as she snuggled into her grandma’s side. “What are you doing?”

  She ran her hand through Brystol’s hair. She smelled like sun and sand, two of Carly’s favorite things. “I was just thinking about your grandfather.”

  “Skip?”

  Carly sighed. She loved hearing his name. “I met him when I was about your age.”

  “Was it love at first sight?”

  She giggled at her granddaughter’s question. “Oh, heavens no. I wanted nothing to do with your grandfather, but he persisted, and when I was much older, I finally let him take me on a date.”

  “And the rest is history?”

  “Yes, and it was a good history. I love your grandpa very much.”

  “Even though he’s been gone for a long time?”

  “You never forget your first love no matter how long they’re gone. You also don’t always marry your first love, but you will always remember them.”

  “Like my mom and dad.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Mommy always says that they had a one-of-a-kind love affair.”

  Her words made Carly smile. “Yes. Your parents were very in love, and I had the pleasure of watching their love grow over the years.”

  “Do you think I would’ve lived here if my dad hadn’t died?”

  Carly hugged her granddaughter tighter. “I don’t know. Your mom wanted to be a nurse, and sometimes I think she would’ve convinced your dad to move, but sometimes I think that they would’ve stayed here.”

  “I want to stay,” Brystol said. “I don’t want to move around anymore.”

  She leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “I know, sweetie. We’ll talk to your mom about staying. I know she’s been thinking about it, but she has a very succes
sful business, so she has to think about that and your future as well.”

  Brystol snuggled into her grandma’s embrace. “Nonnie, can I sleep with you?”

  “Of course, my sweet baby girl.”

  Carly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep with her granddaughter held tightly in her arms and thoughts of Skip and Austin running through her mind.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Brooklyn woke to the sound of birds chirping and the sun shining, but the night before still weighed heavily on her mind. She had to find Grady and ask him what he was talking about. She needed to clear the air because his outburst had left her with a horrible feeling. She also wanted to spend more time with Bowie, but away from the inn, where people could interrupt them. They needed quality time to figure things out. When he had sat down with her and Brystol for the fireworks, she had been tempted to ask him to go back to his friends and to his wife. She had also wanted him to stay. She hated being torn in half when it came to him. Regardless of whether she stayed, she wanted Bowie and Brystol to have a relationship. He’d be able to fill in where Austin couldn’t. She liked the idea of him being a part of Brystol’s life, and maybe even hers, even though she knew their friendship would never be what it once was. She wasn’t even sure she could go there again with him.

  She thought about staying in bed all morning. Listening to the waves crash against the shore and hearing the laughter from the beachgoers soothed her. Since her return to Cape Harbor, she had found herself going to bed later, almost as if she were going to miss something important. And as much as she wanted to leave and go back to the life she’d been living, the thought of not watching the sunset over the ocean every night was weighing heavily on her mind. Despite leaving on bad terms after Austin passed away, she felt as if she could make amends and really make a home in Cape Harbor or somewhere nearby. Doing so would make Brystol happy. Being with her grandparents all the time would be a good thing for her daughter.

  After making her bed, showering, and brushing her teeth, she finally made her way downstairs, shocked to find the kitchen and living room full of people. All her friends, or the ones she used to call her friends, smiled and told her good morning as she came into view. Brooklyn was looking around, trying to figure out what was going on, when Carly came into the room.

  “Good morning, Brooklyn.”

  “Morning. What’s everyone doing here, Carly?” she asked quietly.

  “I invited them.” Carly shrugged as if this were an everyday occurrence. She walked back into the kitchen, singing a song Brooklyn wasn’t familiar with.

  “I see that, but why?” she asked, following her.

  “Last night I realized life’s too short to not be surrounded by the people you love.”

  Brooklyn had a list of reasons why Carly shouldn’t have these people at her house, feeding them breakfast, with the most glaring being they had all abandoned her after her son died. Brooklyn knew Carly would blame herself and say something about how she could’ve reached out to Austin’s friends. The argument would be futile, so she left it alone.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and went into the living room. She expected awkward silence, but it was like nothing had ever changed. Monroe moved the blanket she used to keep warm, inviting Brooklyn to sit next to her on the love seat. She sat and pulled the blanket over her lap, as if she were back in time, as if they had been doing this all along.

  Jason, Graham, and Bowie were lounging around the room, with their feet dangling over the sides of the sofa and overstuffed chair. Brooklyn giggled. Nothing had changed. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been together for the last fifteen years; they were comfortable and back in the home where they had all grown up. Rennie, Grady, and Mila were the only ones missing. Rennie had left before the fireworks to drive back to Seattle, and it wasn’t odd for Mila to skip out—she always had bigger plans—but Brooklyn felt the absence of Grady.

  Carly filtered in and out of the room with trays of warm cinnamon rolls and freshly made coffee. She smiled, and for the first time Brooklyn recognized the woman she used to be. As much as she wanted to tell her to sit down and enjoy her own breakfast, she couldn’t. Carly was back in her element of being the hostess. Her house was once again filled with everyone she loved.

  An hour had passed when Brooklyn got up to take everyone’s dishes to the sink. She didn’t want Carly to have to clean up since she had made breakfast. She really didn’t want Carly cooking for everyone, either, but she was going to let her have her moment. They were few and far between, and depriving her of something she wanted to do seemed mean.

  Carly wasn’t in the kitchen when she went in there. Brooklyn set the stack of plates down in the sink and spotted Carly through the window, sitting on the beach. She left and went to her, hoping for a few private moments with her.

  Brooklyn sat down next to Carly and pulled her knees to her chest. “You’re a good person for opening your doors to them. They don’t deserve your hospitality. None of us do.”

  Carly wove her arm through Brooklyn’s. “Being with everyone for Austin’s memorial really opened my eyes to what I’ve missed over the years. I loved having everyone here.”

  “But to invite them over for breakfast?”

  “They spent the night. Simone suggested they stay because everyone had been drinking. She didn’t want them driving home.”

  “Where did they sleep?”

  “Bowie let them into the inn. He said a few more rooms were put together, so it wouldn’t be an issue.”

  She didn’t know how long they stayed out there, but it was long enough for the rest of them to come out to say goodbye to Carly and thank her. Monroe was the first one to say goodbye. She gave Carly a hug, which Brooklyn knew Carly needed. Jason was next and then Bowie. Neither of them left, though. They lingered, almost as if they had something to say. Brooklyn wanted to talk to Bowie but wasn’t sure if now was the time or later. She’d see him the next morning, and they could talk then.

  Carly stood and stretched. She started walking toward the ocean. Her steps were slow and somewhat staggering. Brooklyn stood, and before she could reach her, Carly collapsed in the sand. Brooklyn and Bowie took off in a dead sprint. It seemed to take forever to get to Carly even though she hadn’t walked that far. The sand was like molasses, slowing them down with every step.

  “Carly, can you hear me?” Brooklyn fell to her knees and reached for her hand. Her fingers were searching for a pulse on Carly’s wrist. She could feel it, but it was faint. But then again, Brooklyn wasn’t sure if it was her own heart beating so rapidly that she was misconstruing the sensation.

  “Jason!” Brooklyn screamed out his name. She searched the area, seeing faces she didn’t know who had started to gather. Had he left? Wasn’t he just with Bowie? The last few minutes of her life seemed to jumble together, and she couldn’t tell if time moved slowly, or was it moving fast? How many minutes had Carly been lying on the ground? Brooklyn tried to figure out what she was supposed to do. She could see the rise and fall of Carly’s chest and was sure she could feel air coming from her nostrils.

  “I called for an ambulance.” The voice belonged to Bowie and surprisingly reassured her. “They’ll be here soon.”

  “What about Jason? He was just here. Where did he go?” she asked, assuming he’d be able to help Carly.

  “I’m right here,” he said calmly as he dropped down in the sand next to Carly and started his assessment. He hovered his ear over her nose to check her breathing, and pulled up her eyelids and flashed a penlight in her eyes.

  The sound of sirens seemed a million miles away. “What’s taking them so long?” Brooklyn asked. Someone put a reassuring hand on her back and told her they were on their way, but that wasn’t enough. Her heart raced with panic. They hadn’t been able to rouse Carly, and Brooklyn knew enough from her yearning to be a nurse that that wasn’t a good sign.

  She saw her daughter rushing down toward them, with Simone right by her side. “Nonnie,” Brys
tol screamed out. “Mommy, what’s wrong with Nonnie?” Brystol asked. Brooklyn glanced at Simone, who paled and shook her head slightly in warning.

  “We don’t know, sweetie. The ambulance is almost here,” Brooklyn said to her daughter. It was meant to comfort her, but she could see the anguish in her face. She had a choice: leave Carly to be with her daughter or . . .

  Bowie answered her internal plea. He went to Brystol and stood next to her, making sure Luke was with them. He set his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close to him, as if he was protecting her. Bowie was there for her daughter, just as he had been there for her in her many times of need. He was always there with the right things to say, with an encouraging hand and a shoulder to lean or cry on. He never asked for more. He never demanded Brooklyn return the favors. And now, here he was taking care of her daughter when she couldn’t. He was doing what he had always done with her when it came to Austin, and now he was doing what he would’ve done had Brooklyn stayed. She could’ve given her daughter a different life, a life with a man she knew would’ve played a role that wasn’t his. She couldn’t watch them together, not now at least, and turned her attention back to Carly, saying her name over and over, praying she would wake up.

  “Why isn’t she responding, Jason?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Is she sick? What medicines is she on?”

  Before Brooklyn or Simone could answer, the local EMTs were on the beach and heading their way. They yelled for people to clear a path, and while one barked out questions, the other put an IV into Carly’s wrist. Within a few minutes they had her on a backboard and were carrying her toward the stairs.