She’d half-heartedly considered bringing both of them. Ever since the funeral, Amelia could not shake the longing in the pit of her stomach.
Loneliness.
The realization that Amelia was entering middle age with little to show for it. No husband. No children (save for Dobi). No mortgage.
And now, no mother.
Losing her mom was hard as hell. Really, it was.
Plus, the whole thing was made harder by Amelia’s stark realization that she was bound on the same journey as sweet-and-spicy Nora, a wacky spinster whose closest friends were more often her most poisonous enemies.
And that just wasn’t Amelia-Ann Hannigan. She was not a wacky spinster. Even more than that, she had friends. Real ones, who weren’t also her enemies—that was important to note, a big difference between Amelia and her mother. Nora may have put on a show for the public, but her actress-daughter was the real deal. A good friend. Not a fake.
So, maybe no husband, children, mortgage, or mother... but Amelia did have friends. And a boyfriend, hapless though he may be. And a furbaby. And sisters.
And, hopefully—if her recent on-Broadway meet-and-greet was well-received, she might just have an exciting gig, to boot.
“Making it” in New York had been even harder than she thought it would be. Twenty years of working her way toward The Big Apple, one small-town community theatre at a time, had resulted in a demotion, actually.
Bit parts in off-Broadway productions that were poorly attended. So poorly attended, that she had to make ends meet elsewhere.
Waiting tables sucked. Plain and simple.
Who wanted to be a forty-year-old waitress? Much less, an over-forty waitress who was trying desperately to break into the ingénue-favoring theatre world?
Well, maybe some people. But not Amelia-Ann.
Now, as she felt herself pulled right and left by what she did not have and what she did have, she tucked away every last jar, tube, can, and palette of her makeup set and kept out only her mascara.
Three swipes. That’s all she allowed herself. Three quick swipes before popping the brush back in its tube and the tube in her bag and zipping it with finality.
Less is more, Amelia-Ann, the voice in her head trilled.
“When you going?”
It was Jimmy, leaning shirtless in the doorway.
He had absolutely no reason to be shirtless. He’d just arrived minutes earlier—fully clothed. Amelia had given him zero reason to undress. And there he was, an almost-six pack bulging beneath his shaved chest. Completely unnecessary.
But that was Jimmy.
“Now,” she answered, pecking him on the cheek before squeezing past to hunt down Dobi for a goodbye cuddle.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Michigan, you know.” Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his pecs involuntarily.
That pang—that longing from the week before grew heavy in her stomach.
Her sisters would hate Jimmy. Amelia was sure of that. And Clara’s tiny little apartment had no room for a fledgling couple. It would be weird to invite him. If Amelia didn’t realize this before, she did now.
She bit down on her lip and raised her eyebrows at her brooding, out-of-work, younger boyfriend.
She sighed. “Jimmy, I would love for you to come... ” she started, suddenly feeling torn all over again.
“You would?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curling up in a lazy grin.
“Well, of course,” she replied, scooping Dobi into her arms and scratching beneath his collar. “But Clara only has a fold-out sofa.”
“I bet we can fit,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave as he uncrossed his arms and strode to her.
Amelia closed her eyes, her heart racing in her chest. She opened her eyes and lifted one palm against him. “I’m so sorry. Clara is super prim and proper. It’s a no. It’s such a no, and I’m so sad about it.” She put on a pout. Dobi let out a low growl.
He took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. “All right. I get it.”
“Oh, Jimmy, honey,” Amelia set Dobi on the overstuffed armchair and reached for her roll-on suitcase. “I want you to come. But you’d be bored. I’ll be with the probate attorney and my sisters, and—”
“I get it,” he answered, letting her hug his torso as he gazed off.
“I’ve got an idea!” Amelia’s eyes flashed open. The perfect solution occurred to her. A light at the end of the tunnel. A way for her to quell the pit in her stomach with a little hope. “Why don’t you come down this weekend? We can play tourist for my last day in Birch Harbor. You could rent a car and drive to the lake. That way you don’t have to be around for the lawyer stuff, but you can still meet my sisters, maybe, and see my hometown. We’ll ride back to the city together. A mini-vacay. What do you think?”
He smirked. “Yeah, maybe.”
Amelia smiled and threw one more look at Dobi, the one she really wanted to take. But she knew this was for the best. Her attention could be on all the legal stuff that would no doubt be confusing and stressful.
Then, when it was over—she’d enjoy the reward of reuniting with Dobi and put on her docent hat for Jimmy. Maybe, just maybe, seeing him outside the city would do her good, anyway. Give her some perspective. An answer. Maybe it would show her whether he was commitment-worthy or just another unemployed construction worker looking for love. Or, lust.
Maybe Jimmy could even help, in some way.
Her boyfriend was a bit of a project, but Amelia was not afraid of a project.
She bid them both goodbye and trotted down four flights of stairs and out onto the busy thoroughfare.
She took a cab to the car rental place and accepted their cheapest offering: a smoky, puke-smelling sedan that, with any luck, would take her directly to the car rental hub nearest Birch Harbor where she could deposit it and be whisked away by Clara, who, naturally, drove a cute little VW Bug. One that didn’t smell like an ashtray or a vomit bag.
***
“Amelia!”
Amelia whipped around just as she passed the single key over the counter to the car rental guy. It was Clara, waving wildly from the curb.
She smiled and waved back, thanking the clerk and wheeling her luggage through the greasy doors and out into the warm Michigan afternoon.
Clara rounded her car and squeezed Amelia in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushed.
Amelia hugged back, hard. “I’m so glad I’m here. I forget that New York sort of has a smell to it. Until I leave.”
“You mean to tell me that place doesn’t have a smell to it?” Clara pointed behind her toward the boxy, dated building that was once a fast-food joint.
“Touché,” Amelia replied. “But out here? It’s... nice.” She hugged Clara again, and they drove together back into Birch Harbor.
“How was your week?” Clara asked, adjusting her grip on the steering wheel.
“Busy. We wrapped Oklahoma! I packed to come back. Dobi is with Jimmy. I should have just brought him.”
“Jimmy or Dobi?”
“Dobi,” Amelia replied pointedly.
Clara grinned. “How’s that going, anyway?”
“You mean with Jimmy?”
“Yeah. Isn’t he... younger?” Clara lifted an eyebrow at her older sister.
Amelia blew out a sigh and tugged her ponytail loose, letting her warm chestnut waves fall around her shoulders. “Jimmy is... a good guy.”
“When did you two start dating again?” Clara’s voice was light, but her words were heavy.
“Um, December? It was right after we got Mom’s diagnosis.”
“Oh, yeah.” Clara brought a second hand to the steering wheel and switched lanes after checking over her shoulder.
“How’d you meet?”
Amelia frowned. Clara wasn’t the type to put twenty questions to her older sisters. “At a bar. I was... I was there with Mia. Actually, it was the exact day I found out. I remember now. I drove here the next morning. But
the night before, well. I was a wreck. Mia tried to distract me. And, we met Jimmy. He got my number.”
Clara didn’t respond, instead maneuvering off the highway and down toward the water.
Birch Harbor. A tourist community on Lake Huron known for its small-town feel, ocean-like beaches, and quaint lakeside eateries.
Just before they pulled up to Clara's digs, The Bungalows—a group of four ground-level units, owned by the Hannigan family trust—Amelia’s phone buzzed with a new text.
She opened it up and saw two faces looking back at her: Jimmy and Dobi, posing in front of the very same car rental agency where she’d been just hours before. Jimmy stood there, grinning from ear to ear, dangling a single key above little Dobi’s worried face.
A caption below the attached image read: The tourists are on their way!
Chapter 3—Clara
“It’s tiny. I’m sorry.” Clara winced at Amelia as she opened the door to her one-bedroom apartment. “If you decide you want to stay out of town at Kate’s or even Megan’s... ”
Clara watched her sister’s expression closely, looking for signs of disgust or, worse, disinterest.
Amelia walked around like she was shopping for houses, inspecting the insides of drawers and touching the curtains, testing their heft. “I love this place. You know that,” she cooed at last. “But... ”
Clara frowned. “But?”
“I just got a text from Jimmy. He’s on his way.”
“On his way? Here?”
Now it was Amelia’s turn to cringe. “Yep.” She strolled back to where Clara stood in the center of the modest living space, just feet away from the breakfast bar—the only eating area the little bungalow offered. “I’ll get a hotel room. I know Kate and Megan would never invite him either.” She laughed lightly before adding, “Don’t worry.”
But it wasn’t Jimmy that bothered Clara. In fact, Clara was excited to meet Jimmy. He was super attractive (from the photos she’d seen) and the way Amelia described him, he sounded fun.
He was not what bothered her.
It was that Amelia was happy to make different plans. After all that scrubbing and bleaching and sheet-changing and... prepping, she was going to stay somewhere else. Clara’s face fell.
“I’m so sorry, Clara. I did not invite him. I promise.”
“Why doesn’t he stay here, too?” Clara suggested, crossing her arms over her tunic. “You can sleep in my room with me. He can have the sofa.”
“I’d hate to impose him on you like that,” Amelia whined. “Ugh. I’m just, I don’t know, trapped with this guy. I mean, I like Jimmy. I really do, but... ”
“It’s completely fine by me. You can share my bed, unless you two... ” Clara raised her eyebrows to her sister. She felt her neck grow warm at the thought of housing a total stranger. It nearly ruined the day. Clara could just imagine cleaning the toilet after a sloppy New York construction worker type. And what did he sleep in? Boxers? She shuddered involuntarily.
“You know what? I didn’t invite Jimmy. Neither did you. He can get a room at the motel.” Amelia smirked. “What about Dobi though?”
“Pets welcome! Dobi can stay here, of course,” Clara answered, feeling her excitement return. “There’s a courtyard out back. I think another resident has a little Chihuahua, in fact.”
“Okay.” Amelia let out a breath and clapped her hands together. “Let’s do it. I’ll tell Jimmy to book a room because I promised I was staying with you, which is true. And your place is too small for him, which is also true.”
Clara nodded vigorously. “Yes, it’ll be great.”
“It’s settled, then,” Amelia added with a mock-serious expression.
Clara beamed up at her older sister. “Wonderful. All right, back to the tour?”
“Yes.” Amelia smiled. “Back to the tour.”
***
After showing Amelia her bedroom and bathroom, the tiny kitchen, and then how to pull out the sofa into a bed, they went over an itinerary Clara had put together.
“We meet with the attorney tomorrow at eight. Kate said to expect to be there for two hours, max. It will be the first meeting, and there could be several more,” Clara explained.
Amelia nodded along as she sipped from a can of Diet Coke at the breakfast bar. “Kate said we might be able to get a few meetings set up over the course of this week. That way I don’t have to drive back and forth. That’s why I’m staying through Saturday. I’ll find out this week if I got Lady Macbeth. I had a pseudo audition, you see. If I do—fingers crossed—then rehearsals will probably start next Monday.” She grinned excitedly.
Clara squealed for Amelia. “Macbeth? That’s like, huge, Amelia.”
Amelia nodded and bit down on her lower lip. “I know. We’ll see.” Her face fell a little. “Regardless, Mario only gave me this week off from The Bread Basket. He won’t hold my job after Saturday. Or so he says. Anyway, I’m hoping we settle everything now.”
Clara shrugged. “Maybe. But that only works if the attorney can meet after three. I mean, at least, for me. I have to work every day, remember? My principal got a sub for tomorrow morning, but beyond that I risk going over my paid leave. If we can push any future meetings to June, that’d be really great. I’ll be out of school by then, you know. But I think Kate is hoping to settle it sooner.”
“We could probably have video calls, worst case scenario. And if something needs to be signed—well, it’s the twenty-first century. The internet, you know.”
Taking a sip of her own Diet Coke, Clara blinked. “Yeah. That’s true. I just... I just want it to be all done, too. You know?”
Her older sister smiled and draped her arm across Clara’s shoulders. “Me, too. We’ll do whatever we can. And besides, Kate says Mom had everything in place. There shouldn’t be any surprises. Equal division, then we go our separate ways. Full freedom to follow our dreams.”
An itchy feeling crept up Clara’s spine. She already was following her dream. What her sister had said felt tacky. Morbid. Tasteless, even. She pushed away her soda can and pulled out her phone to pretend to check for messages. “Yeah. It’ll be fine,” she muttered petulantly. Clara never had been good at confronting her older sisters.
She felt Amelia study her. “So, do you like teaching?”
Putting the phone to sleep, Clara blinked and met her sister’s gaze. “I love it. Love the kids. Love summer vacation. It’s really great.” An involuntary smile lifted her cheeks. Her back stopped itching. She waited for another question about her career.
But Amelia lifted her chin and changed the line of questioning. “Are you dating?”
Clara shook her head, flushing. “No.” She pulled the soda can back and took a small sip, but Amelia was still watching her, an eyebrow poised high on her forehead, willing her little sister to go on.
Clara took the hint and shook her head again. “It’s Birch Harbor, Amelia. No one here is single. And if they are single, then they’re tourists. Dating doesn’t exist in Birch Harbor. Not for me, at least.”
It was true. Clara had gone out a couple of times, thanks to her friends making a profile for her on a dating app. But each date had been with a guy who lived in or near Detroit. It was painfully awkward when she had to ask that they meet halfway between. Nothing had ever materialized. Which was fine by Clara. She had her career. And, up until recently, she had her mother to care for. Lingering sadness crawled up her throat and threatened to spill out, but she stalled it, swallowing hard.
“I didn’t believe in marriage, you know,” Amelia said quietly.
“What?” Clara was confused. Amelia never let a week go by without securing a boyfriend for herself—or nurturing a useless relationship. “You love men.”
Amelia broke into a cackle. “I ‘love men’? What does that mean?”
Clara blushed. “I mean, you always have a boyfriend. And when you don’t, you’re looking for one.”
“Like I said, I used to not believe. I think that’s c
hanging now. With Mom, and... age, I guess. I spent many years thinking commitment could look different.”
“It can look different. Marriage isn’t the only way to commit.” As the words formed on her tongue, Clara knew they’d bounce out as disingenuously as they felt. For Clara, it would be marriage or bust. She was no floozy.
But Amelia shook her head. “I don’t buy that anymore, Clara. I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting a little more... ” She searched for the right word, but Clara knew where she was going.
“A little more like me?”
This time, they shared the laugh. “Yes. A little more traditional. Like my millennial kid sister, ironically.”
“I want to be married one day, that’s true. But I’m not in a rush. I’ve got my job. And my sisters.” Clara knew she sounded lame, but she didn’t care. It was the truth. The furthest thing from her mind was dating around. “Do you think you’ll marry Jimmy?”
Amelia made a face. “No.”
“Then why are you staying with him?” Clara asked. An honest question.
After a beat, her sister took another sip and stood up. “Maybe I will, I guess. If things change, maybe I will.”
Clara left the conversation alone and joined Amelia in a little stretch.
“So what’s next?” the older one asked.
“According to my itinerary, we are walking into town for an early dinner.” Clara paused then flicked a glance up at Amelia. “Do you think we should, um, wait? For Jimmy?”
Amelia seemed to consider the question carefully, narrowing her eyes and running a finger over her lower lip. “No. Let’s make it a sisters’ thing. In fact, I’ll text him the address to the motel now.”
***
Moments later, Clara had dutifully locked her front door and secured her handbag evenly along her shoulder.
Though Clara enjoyed playing tour guide, Amelia knew Birch Harbor well, if not better.
A warm breeze joined them as they walked and talked, revisiting memories from when Amelia was still at home, living in the big house on the harbor.
Growing up, Clara was less Kate, Amelia, and Megan’s younger sister and more the baby of the family. Literally.
House on the Harbor Page 2
