Summer's End (Evening Island Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  “No,” she said tersely. “I don’t think you do. And if you don’t mind, I have important things to do.”

  “Of course. Don’t let me disturb you from your important work.” He flagged down a waiter passing by. “Another lemonade for the lady.”

  “Oh, no. It’s fine. You don’t need to.” Andrea felt her cheeks flush, but he held up a hand.

  “It’s no trouble.” He stood, pausing ever so slightly at her table. “Don’t work too hard.”

  There was a noticeable sheen of amusement in his gaze, and before Andrea could even react to the wink he gave her, he walked away.

  She narrowed her eyes. Don’t work too hard? She intended to do just that. Her entire future depended on it.

  10

  Kim

  A shopping trip was just what she needed to put her troubles aside for a little while. Kim used to love spending a few hours at the start of each trip poking in all the galleries and boutiques, never tiring of buying a few pieces made by local artisans to bring back to the cottage or sometimes to her apartment in the city. One of her favorite paintings that hung on her bedroom wall was from her friend Ellie Morgan. It was a watercolor of West End Road, showing all three of the Victorian homes in their summer glory, facing the water and the setting sun.

  She often liked to lie in bed in the mornings and stare at that painting, imagining that she was sitting on that porch, wondering what all the residents would be doing at that point in time. Her mother was always on the porch in her scenarios, usually with Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Anderson; the three of them could laugh and talk for hours, watching as the carriages came up West End Road or tourists passed on cruiser bikes. As for the nine girls on the street—Kim usually thought that they were somewhere nearby. Heather might be making a pie in the kitchen, as she was known to do most summer weekends, and Andrea and Hope Morgan would be exploring the island on their bikes. Kim and her friend Ellie and the younger Anderson girl might be across the road at the beach. Gemma was often imagined to be curled up in her house with a book, in the top window, which she claimed was her favorite spot in the house.

  It had been a long time since Kim had woken up to that painting, though. She’d been spending more and more nights at Bran’s apartment—the soulless new building with its sharp edges and minimal furniture, no cozy soft blankets on the couch, no colorful pillows, no artwork that evoked emotion.

  She told herself that once she moved out of her apartment and brought her belongings into Bran’s, she would make it her own. Or at least theirs. But now she worried about another argument. Another compromise that was starting to feel more and more like a sacrifice.

  She felt the familiar tug in her chest that had started every time she thought of next month, and beyond. Eager to distract herself, she moved on to a display table that was filled with a collection of handcrafted items for the home. Harbor Home Designs had been their mother’s favorite shop in recent years, and she could almost pretend for a moment that everything was normal, that her mother was here with her, looking at embroidered tea towels or picture frames that she’d fill with photos from their most recent trip to the island.

  “This would look pretty in your living room.” Kim picked up a set of bookends and held them out to Heather.

  Heather glanced at the price tag and shook her head. “Maybe next time.”

  Kim frowned and set them back on the shelf. She knew that Daniel had always earned more than Heather, but she hadn’t considered that things might be tight for her sister. Heather had gotten the small brownstone in the divorce, but Kim wasn’t sure how that worked. Maybe she had to buy Daniel out. There was surely still a hefty mortgage—city properties were not cheap.

  “Then let me buy it for you,” Kim said, feeling bad about whatever struggles her sister might be facing. She wondered if she should suggest that Heather call their father—he’d be more than happy to help. Kim opened her mouth to say just that but stopped herself. Heather was clearly still stung over the divorce. It was so recent—maybe it had been a shock. Maybe she wanted to show that she could handle things on her own. Yes, that was probably why she was so vague whenever the mention of it came up.

  “I’m actually thinking of downsizing,” Heather said. “So I probably shouldn’t be adding more things that I’ll need to pack.”

  “But you love that house!” Kim said, thinking of how excited Heather had been when she’d first found it. She’d had a housewarming party, inviting both of her sisters, and hosted Thanksgiving that first year, too.

  “It’s too big for one person,” Heather said. “It has three bedrooms, two of which are empty. I don’t need that much space. Besides, it might be good for me to start over.”

  Kim could see the logic in this, but it still made her sad to see Heather lose one more thing she loved. She had loved Daniel—that had always been clear, which was why everyone was so confused when she announced they were ending their marriage last fall.

  “Well, then, I’ll buy them for you now and bring them to you once you’re settled into your new place,” Kim said, picking them up again.

  Heather stopped her. “It will be one more thing for you to hold on to and pack. Aren’t you moving out of your apartment next month?”

  Kim pinched her mouth. Now, as she once again set the bookends back on the shelf, she felt a swell of unease she couldn’t push back. This was the longest she and Bran had gone without speaking since they’d met, and their wedding was less than five weeks away, as everyone kept reminding her.

  She forced a smile. “You’re right. Next year, then.”

  But next year seemed so far away and it didn’t feel like a guarantee either. It felt more like something she didn’t like, something that made her uncomfortable. Something she might call denial. She was already giving up her apartment for Bran’s, because it was bigger, because it was owned, not rented, and because it was convenient to Bran’s work, even though it wasn’t in a part of the city that Kim particularly liked, and it wasn’t Kim’s style either. They’d already agreed that there was no sense in Kim moving her bed or sofa or her dining set into Bran’s apartment, not when he already had all of those furnishings. Next, she was expected to give up her job. And then there was the matter of the endless family obligations that left no room for her own.

  She didn’t know where Evening Island would fit into any of that.

  “Look, they have a wedding registry!” Heather pointed to the sign that was displayed on a circular table complete with an eclectic array of objects from silver-plated serving trays to cake toppers.

  Kim picked up a painting of a bride and groom down near the harbor. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

  Heather looked over her shoulder, looking a little resigned. “It is. I always think that Mom would have loved to see one of us married here on the island.”

  Kim set the painting down. Just looking at it made her uncomfortable. “I never heard her say that.”

  “Oh, she didn’t have to,” Heather said with a sad smile. “She loved this place. I think she would have lived here year-round if she could have. But with Dad’s work that obviously wasn’t possible.”

  Just the mention of their father made Kim’s heart skip a beat and she was relieved when the shop owner—a woman named Sheila—approached them.

  “Is someone getting married?” Sheila tipped her head. “I thought that was you, Kim. And Heather.” Sheila, like many others they saw each year, was on friendly terms with them.

  Kim braced herself for what came next.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, dears.”

  Kim swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She didn’t know which was worse: talking about her mother or talking about her wedding.

  She just wanted to leave. She wanted to buy herself a trinket, something that made her think of the island, not all that other stuff that was across the water and miles away.

  “When’s the big day?” Sheila asked.

  “Next month,” Kim said. The l
ast Saturday of the summer. It had seemed so fitting at the time. A way of coming full circle with their relationship in a way. But now just thinking about it made her stomach hurt. It wasn’t the wedding she had dreamed of. It wasn’t even a wedding she wanted to attend.

  With a start, she forced a smile. What was she saying? The wedding was weeks away, invitations had gone out, and she had committed.

  “It might be nice to register for a few things from the island,” she told Heather.

  Pleased, Sheila handed her a clipboard and pen and left them to it. Kim filled in the information with a shaking hand. Suddenly everything in the shop felt inconsequential and even confusing. She didn’t know what to write down on the list. She didn’t know what she wanted, from this store, or her life.

  The line at Island Bakery was long, as Kim knew it would be, but it was worth it to savor the taste of the island. Besides, the day stretched out ahead of them without much of a plan other than to stop by the Main Street Market before heading home.

  Heather, however, looked impatient. “We could go to Trillium Café instead?”

  Kim considered this. It was an institution on this island, nearly as cherished as the big hotel up on the hill where a movie had once been filmed. She could order some pancakes because Marge made them best and maybe that was because the Trillium Café was the only place she ever ate pancakes. But a sit-down meal with Heather, where more discussion of her wedding might take place? She shook her head.

  “No, let’s stay. These sandwiches are worth the wait, and we can go sit on a bench near the harbor.” Maybe they’d run into Edward, even if it was now probably a little late in the day for fishing.

  A woman in front of them turned around and grinned broadly. “I thought I recognized that voice! Why Kimmy Taylor! And Heather! Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you girls.”

  “Mrs. Hayworth!” Kim grinned and let her mother’s old friend hug her.

  “Oh, Sally, please. You two aren’t little girls anymore. Heather’s a married woman!”

  Heather gave Kim a brief glance and then, with a tight smile, said, “I’m single now.”

  Sally’s eyes popped and Kim feared that before five today every other local would know. Sally Hayworth may have run the island newspaper for most of her life, but she ran the gossip mill full-time.

  “Kim is the one who will soon be married,” Heather rushed to say with a smile.

  Kim felt her back teeth graze as Sally looked at her in surprise. “Imagine that! Little Kimmy Taylor getting married. Oh, your mother would have done anything to see that day. We were all so sad to hear the news.”

  Kim’s throat felt dry and she struggled to swallow. Luckily, Heather intervened.

  “Thank you, Sally. Your friendship meant a great deal to her. This entire island did.”

  “How long are you staying?” Sally asked as they scooted up a spot in line.

  “Two weeks,” Kim said, finding her voice. “We just got in this weekend so we haven’t had a chance to see everyone yet.”

  “Well, you know Gemma’s living here year-round now,” Sally began. “Started dating that handsome caretaker of yours. An attorney, very successful, but he’s also starting up a stable and Gemma’s helping him, of course, when she’s not writing. He apparently has a ton of experience with horses from living on a ranch before moving back here, or at least that’s what Edward told me. And Ellie’s still in Europe, but we think she’ll be back by next summer. No one can leave this island for too long!” Her eyes homed in on Heather. “Oh! And you know that Billy Davidson has been spending a lot of time at his parents’ house, fixing it up, and coming over on the ferry once, sometimes twice a week now that he’s living in Pine Falls. I keep waiting to see if a young lady will ever accompany him, but so far that hasn’t happened.”

  Kim couldn’t look at Heather for fear of laughing, and she could see from her periphery that Heather was smiling and nodding politely, and no doubt biting back a few words of her own.

  “Are you still writing for that magazine?” Sally inquired.

  Heather opened her mouth and then closed it, but before she could answer, Sally said, “You know, one of my feature columnists moved to the mainland to be closer to her grandchildren. I don’t suppose…well, I hate to ask…but you’d be doing me a huge favor if you might fill her spot for next month. Just one lifestyle piece, a thousand words or so…”

  Heather’s expression turned regretful, and Kim now saw it as her turn to step in and help. “Oh, but we’re not here for long.”

  “Long enough!” Sally wasn’t to be deterred. “I just need something in my hands by next Friday. It would really help me out, Heather, and I’ll pay, of course. The locals would probably get a kick of seeing your byline too.”

  Heather glanced at Kim. They both knew that their mother would have, too. They loved reading the island newspaper, which was full of local news and, of course, thanks to Sally’s personal touch, just enough gossip to keep things interesting.

  “Sure,” Heather said, letting her shoulders fall.

  “Oh! Thank you!”

  Sally looked up at the counter, where the line in front of her had already disappeared, leaving a large space. “Oh! And that’s me.”

  “What are you going to write about?” Kim whispered to Heather as they waited for their turn in line. Sally’s no-nonsense ordering style could be heard loud and clear, but the staff all knew her, of course. That was the thing about this island—you could come here to hide, but you couldn’t hide anything at all.

  “I don’t know,” Heather said, looking a little worried.

  “Well, you’ll figure it out,” Kim said, knowing that she would. Her sisters always figured things out, even when times were tough.

  It was just too bad that the same couldn’t be said for her.

  11

  Heather

  As they came up West End Road, Heather was relieved to see a familiar figure standing on the lawn that divided their home from Sunset Cottage. It took her mind off the nagging anxiety that had filled her ever since she’d reluctantly agreed to Sally’s surprising request. A lifestyle piece on any topic? The word count wasn’t an issue, and the deadline normally wouldn’t be either, but she hadn’t written anything in months and, of course, her final articles had fallen short with her readership. She supposed it would at least fill the gap in her resume.

  “Gemma!” She waved her hand excitedly and Kim did the same. They quickened their pace up the road as Gemma came to meet them.

  “You’re really here!” Gemma pulled each of them in for a long hug, and Heather dropped the grocery bag to let her. It had been so long, she realized with a wave of something close to self-pity, that she had been truly, properly hugged. Oh, Billy had hugged her, but briefly, and she and her sisters had never been the type to bother with that sort of affection. No, that had been left to their mother.

  And maybe, once, so long ago that it almost didn’t seem possible, to Daniel.

  She swallowed hard, grateful that she had her sunglasses to shield the hurt that no doubt shone in her eyes.

  “We were just about to get started on dinner.” Heather picked up the bulging bag of groceries. “Please join us. And Leo too, of course.”

  “Leo’s doing some work on his grandfather’s place tonight, but I’d love to!” They walked toward the house and climbed the stairs. Gemma sighed when she reached the last step and looked around the porch. “It’s been ages since I’ve been over here.”

  It had been. Their visits hadn’t overlapped for years, but somehow, as Heather held the door open for her friend, it felt like no time had passed at all. That was what made this island so special. They could stay away for a year, or multiple years, and pick right back up as if they’d never left. Standing here with Gemma, it was like they were the same preteen girls who would curl up together on a rainy afternoon on the wicker sofa, watching the rain, scribbling stories in their notebooks.

  “Can I bring a bottle of wine from my p
lace?”

  “We have plenty,” Kim assured her as they began unpacking the groceries: dried pasta and fresh fruits and vegetables, hunks of sharp cheeses, and some fish caught from the lake earlier in the day.

  “I wonder if Andrea’s back yet.” Heather listened for any sound of life outside of the kitchen. She smiled at Gemma. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

  “I just wish my sisters were here. Ellie will be especially sorry she missed you,” Gemma said to Kim.

  Kim shrugged and then slid a sly look in Heather’s direction. “Well, some people are still on the island. Heather’s been spending some time with Billy.”

  Gemma’s gaze flicked to her with interest mixed with confusion. For a moment, Heather wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction, until she realized, of course…Gemma thought she was still happily married. Her parents hadn’t been able to make the funeral, and Heather hadn’t responded to Gemma’s condolence letter—it had been all too much at the time, but now she wished that she’d made a better effort to keep in touch.

  She wished for many things.

  “Daniel and I aren’t together anymore,” she explained. She released a shaky breath as she began loading the milk and yogurt into the refrigerator. It still felt strange to say it aloud even though they’d parted ways well over a year ago and had merely coexisted for months before that. Now she had to brace herself for the inevitable reaction that usually followed: more looks of confusion, an apology, sometimes even looks of disappointment.

  But Gemma just gave her an encouraging smile and said, “It’s not easy, I know. I ended an engagement a while back.”

  “Really?” Kim’s cheeks flushed as she blinked quickly. She slowly unpacked the last grocery bag, not looking at either Heather or Gemma. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking,” she added quickly.