Summer's End (Evening Island Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  “It is a big house for one person, though,” he said, giving her a funny look.

  She tipped her head and reached out a hand to squeeze her father’s fingers. “I know, Dad. I just…want to see you happy.”

  His gaze flickered. “That’s what your mother wanted too. You two were so alike. You remind me of her, you know.”

  Kim felt her eyes mist. “We had a special bond. It can never be replaced,” she said, thinking of Lynette.

  She took a big bite of the roll. The salty butter melting on her tongue helped brighten her spirits.

  “No, never. Your mother can never be replaced,” her father agreed, nodding his head. “But—”

  Kim’s body went rigid. She stared at her father, aware that she had stopped chewing, that there was a hunk of bread in her cheeks. In her father’s club. That her manners had flown out the window because her father had something to tell her, something that she now had the very real fear that she wouldn’t like to hear at all.

  She shouldn’t have come here. She should have gone straight to Evening Island. Should have driven up with Heather and Andrea who would be traveling directly there from Chicago tomorrow because of their work schedules.

  “The truth is that I’ve…met someone.”

  Kim lifted her wineglass and drank it back, nodding her head while she chewed and swallowed, buying time while her mind spun and her heart sank and she silently cursed her sisters and tried to figure out what exactly she was supposed to say to this.

  Her parents had been married for thirty-five years. Her mother had only been gone for a year.

  “It’s a long-distance thing. Keith’s wife’s friend. We met playing golf in Palm Beach and then we started meeting up every month and now… Well, now, she’s going to be staying at the house for a while.”

  Kim stared at her father until he squirmed. From her periphery, she caught their waiter passing by and flagged him, pointing to her empty wineglass.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said slowly. “You haven’t been traveling for work, but for…fun.” She couldn’t say this woman, but that was what she meant. A woman who would be moving into her family home and sleeping in her mother’s bed.

  “Her name’s—”

  Kim held up a hand. “I don’t need to know her name.”

  Her father closed his eyes. He suddenly looked very tired, and very old, and despite her anger, despite the raw hurt that was gathering up inside her, making her hands shake and making it difficult for her to breathe, she couldn’t help but feel a tenderness for him.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just…a lot to process,” she said, softening her tone.

  The waiter arrived with her wine and gave her a little smile when he set it down. Kim took a sip, trying to calm herself.

  “When you visited at Christmas you didn’t say anything.” She tried to piece together the timeline. They’d been visiting each other for months, he’d said! Months!

  “We didn’t meet until January,” her father explained.

  Kim quickly did the math. January was at least better than October.

  “How old is she?” Maybe it was an unfair question, but she couldn’t help it.

  Her father actually laughed. “She’s three years younger than me. She lost her husband two years ago. She has two sons. You’d like her, Kimmy.”

  Maybe she would. But she just wasn’t there yet.

  Their entrees arrived and she stared miserably at her roasted chicken and mashed potatoes—her favorite dish on the menu, even if it was August. She didn’t know when she’d be back to have it again.

  Now she thought she’d probably never be back, and not because of the endless commitments with Bran’s family. There would be a new woman living in her house. It wouldn’t be home anymore.

  Everything just kept on changing.

  “You’ll meet her at the wedding,” he said gently. “I thought it was only fair that you should know now, hear it from me directly.”

  He was bringing this woman to her wedding! Her mind was racing at all that implied. That Heather and Andrea would be there, that one of them was bound to make a stink, and that clearly her father hadn’t told either one of them about it yet or she certainly would have received a call by now—a rare one. And then there was the fact that invitations had already gone out. That Lynette hadn’t even considered that Kim’s father would bring a date—a date! And oh, Lynette wouldn’t be happy to reconfigure the seating chart; she’d locked in the family seating arrangements weeks ago.

  Then Kim remembered how she and Bran had left things. He hadn’t left a message after his last call, and she had taken this as a reason not to reach out again. It was too soon and too fresh. They’d just continue the same argument. Or worse.

  “She’s not going to make a scene if that’s what you’re worried about,” her father said. “With a wedding this big, you won’t even notice her. But she’s a part of my life now, and…she makes me happy, Kim.”

  Maybe she didn’t need to worry about this strange woman showing up at her wedding at all. Maybe, she’d have bigger concerns when she got back to Chicago.

  But all she could think about was that there would be so many people at this wedding, and the one person who should be there wouldn’t be. And maybe that was why everything about this entire experience felt so wrong.

  5

  Heather

  Heather pulled the car to a stop at the ferry lot and turned off the ignition. She glanced to her right in annoyance to see that Andrea was still tapping away at her phone, something she had been doing since Heather picked her up this morning—seven and a half hours ago.

  She supposed she shouldn’t complain. At least Andrea’s focus on work meant she didn’t have to talk about her personal life or her work, or lack thereof. It also gave her a chance to relax, to listen to the radio, even if Andrea did clear her throat rather loudly the few times that Heather had started to sing along, absentmindedly. Still, Heather couldn’t help but feel the strain of the distance that had formed between them. The ease with which they used to laugh and talk seemed to have faded away so gradually that she couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, and she couldn’t deny some responsibility for it either.

  But now they were here, in Blue Harbor, Michigan, and across the calm water of Lake Huron, Heather could see Evening Island out in the distance, a great green mass, like another world. A better world. A place she didn’t even know how much she’d missed until she saw it now. The air was clearer here, filling her lungs in a way that made her feel like she could breathe again, like she was light again. That the heaviness that had rested on her shoulders and filled her heart for so long was finally gone, just when she had almost gotten used to it.

  “If we hurry, we can make this ferry,” Heather said before closing her door. Already she felt more invigorated than she had in weeks.

  Who was she kidding? Months.

  She glanced at Andrea through the rear window as she started unloading the trunk. Not that she’d be letting on any more of her troubles. Or that Andrea cared to ask. It was for the best, she told herself, trying not to feel stung. Andrea had a powerful job, she was about to make partner any day now, and Heather still had to find a way to pay her divorce attorney for services rendered.

  Finally, Andrea emerged from the car, tucking her phone into her leather handbag, which seemed so out of place for island life. On Evening Island, there were no cars, just good, ol’-fashioned horse and buggies and bicycles, meaning she’d need to pay for extended parking before boarding the ferry. And she wouldn’t say no if Andrea offered to cover it, considering Heather had handled all the driving to the very tip of Michigan, feeling more like a chauffeur than a sister.

  She laughed to herself, thinking how many times she had been tempted to tell Andrea that she should take the backseat; at least then Heather might have been able to sing along to the radio.

  “You’re in a good mood,” Andrea remarked, and Heather didn’t deny it or fight it. The water
stretched far into the distance, interrupted only by a slow-passing ferry, and the sun was warm on her face. She hadn’t gardened much this year, even though she’d once prided herself on the small plot of land in the city that was all hers. Now she pulled the air into her lungs and tipped her head back.

  “It’s nice to have a change of scenery, I suppose. The city can wear on you after a while, you know?” But, of course, Andrea didn’t know. She loved the pace of city life; thrived on it.

  Heather watched as her older sister just lifted an eyebrow and proceeded to unload her belongings. “I’ll get the tickets,” she said, leaving her luggage near the car while she walked to the ticket stand.

  Heather used the time to start transferring her bags to and from the loading dock. Neither one of them had thought this through, she realized. They’d have to flag down a carriage to take them to the house. They could never manage this much on foot, no matter how walkable the island was. Once, packing for the lake house had been done on autopilot, but time away had taken the routine out of it. Now she was certain she’d overpacked when shorts and flip-flops would do.

  But then she looked at Andrea, who, in her crisp capris and heeled sandals, looked like she may as well be about to head into the office or a casual business lunch. Andrea was even more out of touch with island life than she was.

  Eventually, they managed to board the ferry with minutes to spare, along with groups of tourists, who fought for the prime seats on the top deck.

  Andrea had disappeared, no doubt trying desperately to cling to that last bar of cell reception, and Heather, seeing no space left on the sunny deck with the unobstructed view, went down to the lower level, pleased to see there was one last seat near the edge, on the side of the boat that she knew would give her all the feels as they approached the island, so she could see her family’s house as it grew closer and closer.

  It was vacant, of course—unless Kim had already arrived. In previous years, the house was rented out for the spring and early half of the summer, but that task had been overseen by their mother, who was careful to review applications and communicate with the caretaker about upkeep and issues. This year, there had been no renters. At best, Heather hoped that their father had remembered to ask the caretaker to stop over a few times a month to make sure that disaster hadn’t fallen upon the house.

  Fortunately, that caretaker lived in the house next door, with their old friend, Gemma Morgan, who was no doubt sure to keep an eye on things—or so she’d promised in the condolence card that she’d sent last August.

  Heather held her canvas tote up higher so she could easily move down the narrow aisle of the boat, but a sudden lurch as the motor started thrust the heavy weight of another person against her back, and she only managed not to fall by grabbing one of the bench seatbacks.

  “Are you okay, miss?”

  She turned, her shock only compounded by the person she saw standing beside her. “Billy?”

  He shook his head, looking at her in wonder. “Well, I’ll be. Heather Taylor. There’s a face I never thought I’d see today.”

  She couldn’t agree with that statement more, yet here he was. Billy Davidson, longtime island friend, another one of the summer people who came and went with the change of the season, even if her heart still thought of him long into winter.

  “You here on your own?” he asked when she pulled back, looking up into his hazel eyes that seemed to always grow greener as his skin tanned.

  “I’m here with my sisters,” she said. She hesitated, seeing the question in his eyes. He’d known she’d gotten married, of course. Their mothers had been friends and kept in touch. But now Heather’s mother wasn’t here anymore, so Billy probably hadn’t heard the latest update. And of course, Heather had ensured that her mother never knew. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard that Kim is getting married next month?” Surely, his parents had been invited to the wedding, at least. “It’s just a girls’ trip this time. Like the old days.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “I was so sorry to hear about your mother. I still feel bad that I couldn’t make the service. My parents said it was beautiful.”

  Heather pulled in a shaky breath and willed herself not to cry. The backs of her eyes prickled nonetheless, and she darted a glance over to the island, fixating on her happy place. Telling herself that for now, for these two weeks, all her problems would be set aside.

  When she looked back up at Billy, he was still grinning at her in that friendly but devilish way that had made her and probably half the other women he ever encountered fall in love with him on the spot. And that’s what she’d done when she was too young to even know what it was called back then. As a little girl, she’d only known that Billy was fun, but when she’d grown older, she started to notice that he was pretty cute too, and as the years past she’d dared to think that one day…

  Well, there were lots of dreams back then.

  “What about you?” She was eager to shift the topic from herself. “I didn’t realize you still came back to the island.”

  The last few summers that she had visited, to her disappointment, Billy had not been there, even if by then she was a married woman, who saw him as an old friend, but more than that, as a part of the entire experience of coming back to the island. Without him, there was a void, just like she knew there would be one on this visit, without her mother.

  “I’ve been coming back and forth all summer, actually,” he said.

  “Oh?” She hadn’t heard any updates in a year on Billy. Last she knew, when she saw his parents at the funeral, he was still single, much to his mother’s disappointment. The woman had longed for a grandchild as much as Heather’s own mother.

  And Heather had failed to produce one. And now, it was too late.

  She swallowed hard and pushed those bad feelings away before they crept any further. They were almost to Evening Island. Soon, she would be home—to a home that was more of a home than any other she had known, at least. And Billy was standing in front of her, going her way. Today she deserved to be happy.

  “I’m living in Pine Falls now,” Billy explained, which made sense why he would come and go. With the ferry port just one town away in Blue Harbor, he could pop over to the island for the day if he wanted. “So I usually spend my weekends at the island house. Sometimes a long weekend. Depending on the rotation schedule at the practice, sometimes I come over midweek when I cover a few shifts at the Island Hospital.”

  There was that grin again.

  “Well, you’ll have to come for dinner one night, once we get settled.”

  “Absolutely! And I still owe you that drink from the time you beat me at rummy,” he said.

  Her cheeks turned pink when she realized that he still remembered. That must have been…nine years ago? Ten? They were still in college then. Still flush with the hope of a bright future, possibly even one together, or so she’d dared to once hope. “I beat you eleven times in a row, actually, but who’s keeping score?”

  My goodness! She was actually bantering! Flirting, even. And she was smiling, a genuine, real, heartfelt smile. She had forgotten what this felt like, but Billy didn’t know that. Billy just knew her as the carefree summer girl, with the house on West End Road.

  He didn’t know about the tears and the fights, about the way she and Daniel would sometimes blame each other for all their problems and other times sit in silence, only quietly blaming themselves. He didn’t know that she had tried and failed, to hold on to her marriage, to hold on to her job. To have a baby that never came.

  He didn’t know that part of her at all. A part of her past, really, just not so distant of one.

  “Well, as a medical professional, I can’t advise eleven alcoholic beverages in one night,” he said, “but depending on how long you’re staying, I may find a way to make it up to you over time.”

  “I’m here for two weeks, and I’m holding you to it.” She grinned, and he did, too. And his eyes, God help her, they downright twinkled.
<
br />   She didn’t recognize this version of herself right now, being witty, confident, and downright fun. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost that part of herself.

  But maybe Kim had been right. Maybe this trip would be fun after all.

  6

  Andrea

  Andrea finally admitted defeat and tucked her phone into her bag as the ferry approached the dock. She had no cell coverage and knew that it wouldn’t be easy to find it on the island, but she would. She’d been scrambling all week to set up more meetings, more lunches, so when she returned to Chicago she could step right back in without missing a beat.

  So she might be able to sleep a little easier on this trip, instead of worrying about what was going on at the office, what she was missing. Or worse—how far she was falling behind.

  She looked up in time to see a man bend down and give Heather a peck on the cheek and then, with a grin, saunter away, while her sister stood and appeared to bask in the glow of that moment. Wait. Andrea darted her eyes to the retracting figure once more. Was it? It couldn’t be. But it must.

  She stood up from the wooden bench and hurried along the boat deck, grabbing her sister’s elbow as she approached. “Was that Billy Davidson?”

  Heather’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes looked a little wild, but she nodded her head calmly and said, “Yep.”

  Well, this was certainly an interesting twist. Heather had never been shy about her feelings toward Billy—except to maybe Billy himself.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “I didn’t say a word,” Andrea said, but she knew she was giving Heather the same coy smile she always used to give her when Billy first showed up each summer, usually on his old ten-speed, his hair windblown, his gaze always landing on the middle Taylor sister. “You and Billy always had a special friendship, that’s all.”