The Inn at Angel Island

by Thomas Kinkade

  Liza met his gaze and sighed. “Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

  Peter sat down next to her. “What if you went back to the office and claimed your territory? Boston’s only a two-hour drive. You could go today. Meet with your boss and make her reconsider?”

  Liza had thought of that and had finally rejected the idea. “It’s not just Eve’s decision. And I don’t think they’ll change their minds and give it to me just because I stomped my feet and demanded it. Besides, Eve said she couldn’t talk about it with me yet. Maybe the decision isn’t final,” she added, though she honestly felt that there was slim hope left.

  Peter leaned over and put his arm around her shoulder. “I know this must really hurt. I wish there was something I could do for you.”

  Liza forced a small smile. “Thanks, pal. Just listening to me moan and groan helps. A little anyway.”

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? The painting can wait. You can take a ride somewhere, go into Cape Light or Newburyport? Get some distraction. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Liza considered the offer. Both of those towns were perfect for an afternoon of walking around and browsing. But it would take more than window-shopping to cheer her up today. She felt so angry she was about to burst at the seams.

  “I think I’ll feel better if I just stay here and paint some more,” she told him. “It will help keep my mind off it.”

  “All right. Whatever you say. If you change your mind and decide you want to go back to Boston and fight, you just go. I can take care of this place.”

  “I know you can, Peter. Thanks.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood up. “I just need a minute or two. I’ll be in soon,” she promised him.

  “All right.” Peter gave her a last look, then left her to get herself together.

  Liza turned away from the house and looked at the shed and the garden and the property beyond.

  The sun was high in the sky and felt strong today, warming the damp earth and calling forth the scents and sights of spring. Green shoots were pushing up from the soft ground, and the buds on the trees were swelling, about to burst into flower.

  How could this be happening? Didn’t the entire world realize she was sad and devastated?

  Spring obviously didn’t care. It was coming anyway. The seasons moved on, each day leading to the next. It was a comfort in one way and, in another way, offered her a humbling measure of perspective.

  Liza worked diligently for the rest of the day, struggling to get her mind around the devastating news.

  She wasn’t sure if Peter had told anyone about her disappointment, but the rest of the house seemed to sense she was unhappy about something and stayed out of her way.

  She didn’t even come down for the special short ribs dinner that evening. Instead, she soaked in a hot bath, and once the coast was clear, she snuck down for a bowl of cold cereal that she ate in her room.

  As tired as she was, Liza felt too riled up to fall asleep.

  She lay in the dark, her eyes wide open, playing out scenarios in her mind. She would return to the office, confront Charlie Reiger, face down Eve Barkin, and give them both a piece of her mind.

  But what good would any of that actually do? Unless she was willing to quit her job and walk out on all of them.

  That would be satisfying, she thought. For a few minutes anyway.

  But it was a terrible career move. It would be hard enough to find a new job in this economy without being branded as a nutcase or a hysteric. The story would hit the grapevine quickly, sealing her fate.

  What will I do without that job? she wondered. It’s my entire life-even though I’m not sure I like it anymore. How pathetic is that?

  Well, I could always come back here and run the inn. Now there’s a pleasant fantasy. She smiled to herself, amused at her own wild ideas.

  It was a crazy notion. Crazy and impossible.

  Too bad I’m so logical, Liza thought with a sigh. People like me never have any fun.

  LIZA was the last one to come downstairs the next morning. Claire greeted her warmly. “Did you have a good rest?” she asked, as Liza poured herself a mug of coffee.

  “Not bad, all things considered.” She didn’t feel as angry anymore at her situation, just deflated and sad.

  Liza hadn’t talked to Claire about her work situation, but Liza was sure the housekeeper had heard something from Peter. She seemed to be sending Liza silent waves of comfort, her sympathetic smile speaking volumes.

  “A good night’s sleep is a wonderful thing,” Claire noted. “It heals your spirit and puts things in perspective, don’t you think?”

  Liza had to smile. “Yes, it does. A little, anyway.”

  “It’s a beautiful day,” Claire went on. “The weatherman said it was going to rain but no sign of it yet.”

  “Let’s hope the clouds wait until tonight. I’d hate for Daniel to miss a day of work.”

  “Oh, he’s out there,” Claire assured her. “He was down a few men on his crew for some reason. Daniel asked Will to help him. And Peter volunteered, too,” she added with a sly smile.

  Claire looked down, continuing to wash out the griddle. “Though I’m not sure if he really needs all that help… if you know what I mean.”

  “Poor Daniel,” Liza said with a smile. She poured herself more coffee and swiped a slice of whole wheat toast from a plate on the table. “Guess I should check this out. Nobody’s come back inside yet screaming, right?”

  “So far, so good,” Claire assured her quietly.

  Liza went out the back door and soon spotted her brother. He carried a large paintbrush and a bucket of yellow paint. “Hey, kid. How are you doing?” Peter greeted her.

  “Hanging in. What’s going on out here?”

  “Daniel is short a helper or two today, and he asked Will if he wanted to step in.” Liza detected a distinct note of pride in Peter’s tone. “I might help myself. The outside is the priority, don’t you think? The faster Daniel finishes, the better for us.”

  “Fran did say something like that,” Liza agreed. Which reminded her-with all her own troubles, she had lost track of the real estate agent. She had to call Fran this morning and see when she was bringing the Hardys back.

  “Maybe we should all work outside today,” Peter said, sounding enthusiastic. “It would be great to have the front of the inn done before the Hardys come back. It could make all the difference. Curb appeal and all that?”

  Peter had been reading too many “sell it yourself ” articles on the Internet, Liza thought. Then again, working with Daniel for the day wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.

  “Sure,” she told her brother. “I’ll help paint the outside.”

  Maybe she was just volunteering so that she would have a good distraction from her worries, she realized. And maybe that wasn’t the worst thing either.

  A short time later, Liza stood on the porch, carefully applying cream-colored paint to the columns and railing. Daniel had not been delighted to hear that a band of amateurs insisted on painting with him, but they were his customers and, for various reasons, he was down several of the men on his regular crew today.

  Since he knew they needed the job done as quickly as possible, he didn’t refuse their help.

  Liza liked working outside. It had gotten claustrophobic in the tiny bathroom yesterday, and she had dreaded facing that project again. But outside, with a blue sky above, the sun shining brightly, and a light breeze blowing, it was hard to be unhappy. All she had to do was glance out at the ocean, and the blue waters immediately washed away any negative thoughts.

  “So, you’ve ended up working for me after all. Never say never.” Daniel walked up behind her, the sound of his voice so close, she jumped up and hit her paintbrush on his knee.

  “Sorry,” she said. She looked up and smiled.

  “I should have expected that.”

  “Yeah, you should have. It will wash out, right?”

  �
��Someday,” he said lightly. He grabbed another brush and dipped it into the paint tray she was using, then started to paint the railing on the other side of the steps. Was he going to partner up with her on the porch? Liza wasn’t sure she liked that idea. It made her too nervous. She was sure she would end up hitting him with the brush again. Or worse.

  “We’ve been lucky with the weather,” he said, seeming unmindful of her discomfort. “It usually rains a lot around here this time of year. That would have really slowed us down.”

  “It has been great weather,” she agreed. Thinking back, the only rain she had seen out here had been the night she arrived.

  She glanced over at him. It was funny how just talking about the weather seemed so… significant. She felt as if she were in high school or something, talking to a boy she had a crush on and not knowing what to say.

  “So… are you a big Sox fan, or do you just like the hats and T-shirts?”

  “A fan… and I wear the hats and T-shirts to prove it.”

  He laughed. “Think they’re going to make it to the Series this year?”

  “Of course I do. They have a great chance.” She turned and looked at him. “I’m counting the days until the opening at Fenway. Then it’s really spring.”

  Daniel laughed. “Wow, you are a fan.”

  Liza didn’t say anything. She turned around and got back to the painting. Lots of men thought it was funny to meet a woman who liked baseball as much as she did. Amusing… or just plain odd. She couldn’t help it. She also liked opera. That was just who she was.

  They continued working without talking. Liza didn’t mind at all. It was an easy kind of silence between them, not tense or strained. She liked just being near him for some reason. It was exciting and somehow comfortable at the same time.

  She was so focused on painting that she didn’t hear the car coming up the drive until it had pulled all the way up to the house.

  She looked up to see who it was and nearly dropped her brush. A silver Volvo convertible had arrived, and Jeff had jumped out of the driver’s side.

  “Liza, please don’t be mad. I know you asked me not to come. But I can explain,” he began, as he walked toward her.

  Liza stood up and drew in a long breath. What in the world?

  She glanced down at Daniel. He had stopped painting and was staring at her. “A friend of yours?” he asked quietly.

  “Sort of,” she murmured back. “My ex-husband.”

  He nodded and looked back at the porch rails. “I get it.”

  “Good. At least one of us does,” she replied.

  Jeff stood in front of her at the bottom of the steps. He stared up with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry to bother you, Liza. But we really need to talk.”

  Talk? What did they have left to talk about? Liza walked down the steps to meet him. “Didn’t you get my note about the roses?” she asked him quietly.

  “I did.” He reached out and touched her shoulder for a moment, then let his hand drop away. “That’s when I realized that I needed to talk to you. Face-to-face.”

  Liza stared at him in disbelief. “I told you in no uncertain terms it was time for us both to let go and lead our own lives. What part of that message didn’t you understand?”

  “Liza-”

  “No,” she cut him off. “You shouldn’t have come without calling first, Jeff.”

  “I know. But if I called and asked, I thought you would tell me not to come.”

  He was right about that. He smiled down at her and stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He wore a fine-gauge-wool sweater over designer jeans. His light brown hair was freshly cut, and his blue eyes sparkled.

  He was an attractive man, she noticed in some distant part of her brain, but she wasn’t attracted to him anymore. Was she?

  Why did he have to come back like this and get her all confused again?

  “I’m sorry, Liza, but after I got that note, everything seemed so final. I realized our marriage was really over and-I just couldn’t handle it.”

  “I felt a little shocked, too, when I finally got the decree in the mail,” she said, trying to sound reasonable. “But we knew this was coming for a long time. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.”

  “What can I say?” Jeff rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a wistful smile. “That very official letter was hard to handle, Liza. Then your note just blew me away.”

  Liza met his gaze and sighed. This was more than she had expected. Was he here to try to reconcile? Was there any chance at all of them getting back together? She would have said “no way” a few days ago. Now, though, it seemed as if she didn’t have a clue about what was going to happen in her life anymore.

  She noticed Daniel had left the porch and walked over to his truck. He seemed to be politely ignoring the little drama, but Liza was sure he could still hear every word.

  Peter had also come around the side of the building with Will. They were both staring at Jeff as if he had descended from another planet.

  “Can we go inside?” Jeff asked quietly. “I really have a lot to say to you.”

  He took a step closer and took hold of her hand. Liza felt herself freeze inside and pulled away.

  “No, we can’t go inside. We don’t have anything to talk about, Jeff. I want you to go.”

  Jeff laughed nervously but was not put off. “Okay then, I’ll tell you right here,” he insisted. “I’d rather talk about this privately… but what the heck. Let the whole world hear. I’m not ashamed of what I’m feeling.”

  Oh, no. This situation was getting worse by the second. Liza didn’t know what to do. There seemed no way to stop him, and she knew if she took him into the house, it would be even harder to get rid of him. In spite of herself, she turned and caught Daniel’s eye. Well, I have this ex-husband who just won’t let go. A slight problem in regard to starting any new relationships. But I’m working on it.

  Miraculously, Daniel seemed to understand and disappeared around the side of the house.

  “All right,” she said to Jeff. “Just tell me, please.”

  And then go, she added silently.

  He smiled at her, cleared his throat, and stood up straight, shoulders back. “Here’s the revelation that came to me, Liza. Yes, we’re officially divorced and all that. But maybe that’s what it took to make me see what you really mean to me. What our marriage means to me. I want you back, Liza. I made a big mistake, and I’m willing to do anything I have to do to make it up to you. I can see now that we shouldn’t have given up so easily. If you’ll just give me a chance, our relationship can be good again. We can get back together and finally start a family.”

  Liza blinked. Her eyes had filled with tears for some strange reason.

  “Jeff… it’s too late for all that…” Her voice sounded shaky, as though she were unsure of her words. Was she unsure? Had he got her thinking again about starting over?

  “You don’t have to answer me now, Liza. Give it a chance to sink in.” He took her hand again, and this time, she didn’t pull away. “The other night, when I read your note, I realized how much I still love you. I really do,” he insisted. “I’ve made my mistakes. Nobody is perfect. If you’ll just forgive me, it will be completely different this time, I promise… If we had a baby, it would all work out for us. It’s the chance of a lifetime, Liza. I just don’t want to miss it.”

  “Oh Jeff,” she said sadly. “A child is not the answer.” She was suddenly sure of that. “It never was,” she told him. “Please, just go, will you? It was wrong of you to come here like this. I’m very… upset. Really.”

  “Liza, don’t say that.” He reached for her, and she pulled away.

  Then she slipped past him and ran down the steps, tipping over the paint tray in the process.

  Jeff tried to follow her. She heard his fast steps on the gravel. She turned and saw Peter step into Jeff ’s path and grab his arm, not roughly but firmly enough to stop him.

  “Liz
a said she doesn’t want to talk to you right now, Jeff. I think you should just respect her wishes and go.”

  Jeff glanced at his former brother-in-law but didn’t struggle. He just stared at Liza, a pleading look in his eyes.

  Liza saw a bike in the drive, leaning against a tree, and ran toward it. Will must have gone for a ride and left it there, lucky for her. She jumped on and started riding.

  Jeff called after her, but she didn’t turn around. She hoped he didn’t try to follow her with his car. But she could go off the road onto a path and lose him easily while on the bike, she realized.

  If only it were that easy to get him out of her life.

  Liza rode fast but aimlessly. She climbed the hill on the main road and flew down the other side as if she were being pursued by a pack of hungry tigers. She passed through the island center and considered going into Daisy Winkler’s tearoom, where she could hide away, read books, and sip mint tea all day. But that stop was too close to home. If Jeff pursued her, he would be sure to find her there.

  She rode on and turned onto Ice House Road, the road that cut north to south on the island and ended up at the Angel Wing Cliffs.

  Thick gray clouds had moved in, covering the sun, as if Jeff had brought the bad weather with him, she thought. There was a strong wind, too, that seemed to be blowing against her no matter which direction she rode. It made it much harder to pedal, especially uphill. Liza was glad she’d worn a heavy sweatshirt that morning for painting and that there was a fresh water bottle on the bike rack.

  She thought she might ride up to the cliffs and sit there for a while. Hopefully, Peter would persuade Jeff to go back to the city. Quickly.

  But as she rode along, she came to the old cemetery and decided to stop there. She parked her bike on the side of the road and walked in through the wrought-iron gate. Set on a hill and surrounded by a low stone wall, the cemetery was not very large.

  There were headstones that dated back to the 1600s, when the first inhabitants of the island had arrived; the markers were old stone tablets, moss covered and practically worn away by the caress of salty winds and rain. And the simple passage of time.