The Beach at Painter's Cove

by Shelley Noble

  Issy hurried out of the car and up to the front door. Knocked; waited until someone called out, “Coming.” The door opened and a woman peered out of the opening.

  “Excuse me. Does Mrs. Norcroft live here?”

  “Depends on who wants to know.”

  Issy tried peering over the woman’s shoulder, but she stepped to the side, blocking her view.

  “Issy. Isabelle Whitaker, and—”

  The woman stepped back and slammed the door in Issy’s face.

  Issy leaned into the door. “Please. If Mrs. Norcroft is there, I came to apologize. There’s been a terrible mistake. And I wanted her to know. Please let me in.”

  This was worse than she could have imagined. Of course the family deserved any treatment they got, but she couldn’t stand the idea of Mrs. Norcroft thinking they didn’t trust her.

  The door cracked open.

  Issy didn’t move to go in.

  They stared at each other for what seemed like an aeon.

  “I’m Mrs. Stone, Lila’s sister.” She opened the door and stepped back for Issy to enter.

  The house was small and comfortable looking, furnished with plush couches and chairs.

  “She’s in the kitchen.” Mrs. Stone lifted her chin and turned away. Issy followed her to a swinging door, which she held open for Issy. And Issy was hit with a familiar aroma of bananas and coffee. She breathed it in and indulged in a sigh of memory.

  Mrs. Norcroft was taking pans of banana bread out of the oven. She put two pans down on a rack and saw Issy.

  “Issy?” the housekeeper said tentatively. She was wearing a white apron, covering a blue-flowered shirtwaist dress, and her face was dusted with flour.

  Such a familiar sight, it was all Issy could do not to throw her arms around her and beg her forgiveness. But she was an adult now, and besides, she hadn’t done anything but ignore her family.

  “Oh my Lord, I didn’t even recognize you.” Mrs. Norcroft’s face fell. “What they said about me wasn’t true. You know I would never take anything from your family.”

  “She wouldn’t steal from anybody,” Mrs. Stone added. “It was an out-and-out lie. Didn’t even call the police ’cause they knew it wasn’t true. And if that sister of yours sent you down here to—”

  “Elsie, thank you my dear. But let Issy talk.”

  “Humph.” Mrs. Stone crossed her arms.

  So Issy was going to have an audience.

  “First.” Issy took a breath. “Vivienne didn’t send me. I haven’t seen her. She’s disappeared and left her children with Leo.”

  “Run off with that no-good husband of hers,” said Mrs. Stone.

  Mrs. Norcroft pressed her fingers to her lips.

  “Things are in a mess, Mrs. Norcroft. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to neglect them; I kind of fell out with the others a while back. Well, we all fell out with each other. I just got busy at work and haven’t visited or called as much as I should have. But that’s all in the past now.”

  “You were always a volatile bunch. You sit down. Elsie, will you get cups down? I’m sure Issy would like some coffee.”

  Mrs. Norcroft gestured to one chair and sat down in another.

  Mrs. Stone poured out three cups of coffee, placed them on the table, and sat down in front of one of them.

  “I don’t know what to say, except that I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut the mustard.”

  “Elsie, please.”

  “Well, it doesn’t. The whole town knew what your sister accused Lila of. Most of them knew it couldn’t be true. But any town’s got its gossips and it was humiliating for her just to go to the market. The things people say.”

  “Well, none of it is Issy’s fault.”

  “You say,” Mrs. Stone said.

  “It is my fault,” said Issy at the same time. “If I’d stayed in touch, I would have figured out what was going on. I know you would never hurt us. And I’ll be glad to tell the whole town if you want.”

  “Not necessary, dear. Fae’s already taken care of that. She may be an old fool, so are we all. But she knows what’s right and she sticks by it no matter what other folks might think of her.”

  Issy nodded.

  Elsie Stone slapped the table. “And I say good riddance to Dan Bannister and that sister of yours, too. I’m cutting us some banana bread.”

  “That’s for the church bake sale.”

  “Hang the church bake sale,” said Elsie, and pulled a giant knife off the wall rack.

  “What’s been going on, Mrs. Norcroft? Do you know?”

  “The long and the short of it, Dan Bannister starting ripping off Leo before Wes was cold in his grave. I didn’t realize it at first but I wasn’t surprised when I did notice. The Bannisters have always been a family that took what they wanted. Everybody told Leo not to let Vivienne get involved with him, but Vivienne was bound and determined to have the life of luxury she wanted. Well, she got it.

  “No old family home for her. Had to have one of those big McMansions over near Guilford. Then the cars. Over here all the time with those bratty children sucking up to Wes. Anybody could tell where that was going.”

  Issy nodded.

  “And if you had been around, missy. You would have seen it, too.”

  “They sent me away.”

  “They sent you to college. It’s what parents do.”

  “I know that now. At the time I thought they didn’t want me. And they . . .” Issy still choked on the words. “They didn’t even call me to say Wes had died or tell me about the funeral. Nothing.”

  “Vivienne’s doing,” Mrs. Norcroft said, accepting a plate of bread from Mrs. Stone. “I heard her tell George she would take care of it. You were out of the country on a job. Such a brouhaha, between Fae and Dan when she found out why you weren’t there. Lord, if that crazy woman could cast spells, Dan Bannister would still be hopping around your front garden.

  “But there was nothing you could’ve done. It was already too late by then. You were always Wes’s favorite, but you had a career and the Bannisters were always around, and he didn’t want to burden you with his estate.”

  “Me? What about George?”

  Mrs. Norcroft waved George away with a flick of her hand. “Wes got suckered in by that Bannister boy, and Leo never could see any farther than Wes.

  “Wes could’ve left things in George’s hands, but those two were like oil and water. Then Wes dies and Dan takes over. He did have the roof fixed, but it leaked with the first hard storm. Cut corners, you know.”

  “And the plumbing?”

  “Hired Scott Rostand. He did four of the upstairs bathrooms, Dan didn’t pay him, kept putting him off. Scott had no choice but to move on to another job. He’s working at the theater now.”

  “We still owe him money?”

  “I doubt if Dan ever paid him. It was about that time I started noticing things were missing. I didn’t want to think that Scott would have helped himself in lieu of payment. And I knew he didn’t when things kept going missing after he had stopped working at the house.

  “Then I wondered if Fae might have taken them. I don’t know how Wes left her, but I was afraid that maybe she needed the money. I asked her right out.”

  Mrs. Norcroft laughed. “And she told me right back what I could do with my suspicions. She thought it was Vivienne and Dan.”

  “And she was right,” Issy said. “Leo and Fae didn’t realize what was happening. Leo still doesn’t know what Vivienne did to you. She thinks you’re on vacation.”

  “Bless her. Best not to upset her. What’s done is done.”

  “I see that the house is for sale. It’s not because of what my family did, is it?”

  “No, no, child.” Mrs. Norcroft reached over and took Issy’s hand. “We’re going down to Tennessee. Got a brother and another sister down there. Weather is nicer. Taxes are cheaper. Elsie and I always planned to move down there when we retired. And now we both have.”

 
Issy squeezed the housekeeper’s hand. “What a family.”

  “Can’t pick your families. Just make the best of them.”

  “I guess.” Issy looked up, smiled. “And you’ll be okay?”

  “Oh, sure. Wes left me a nice inheritance. I didn’t plan on using it until I retired, but Vivienne retired me. Elsie and I might even take ourselves off on a cruise. I’d like to see some of those places all those folks at the Muses talked about. I’ll miss Leo, though. She ought to get herself a nice little condo somewhere, but I know she’ll never leave.”

  “Well, I wish you the best,” Issy said, getting up and feeling a little teary.

  “Take some of this bread to Leo and Fae. Make sure they get it and not those bratty children. Tell her I’ll always remember the good times I had at the Muses, and the kindness of your family. But maybe this was a blessing in disguise, give me a chance to enjoy my retirement while I still can.”

  Fae dumped a box of cookies on a glass plate and dropped the whole thing on the sterling-silver tray, which sent several of the cookies sliding off. She stopped, stretched her arms open, and took a deep, cleansing breath.

  “Never prepare food in anger,” she said to herself as much as to Steph, who was watching her like she was afraid Fae might just flap her arms and fly out the kitchen window, which, as far as options went, wasn’t the worst, even if impossible.

  Fae returned the errant cookies to the plate and arranged the others in a circle. “Anger will attach itself to anything it can, and if it gets inside you, it can bore a little hole and attach itself to you, so you can’t get rid of it.”

  “Are you angry, Aunt Fae?”

  Fae turned to look at the girl, who’d knocked at her door in Mrs. Norcroft’s rooms this morning looking for more clothes to wear. Fae had anticipated this request and brought a duffel bag filled with wonderful patterns and colors just in case. She was also prepared for the girl to turn up her nose at them.

  She did at first.

  She tried really hard not to want them, but she couldn’t hold out against the magic of those fabrics. And now she and Fae stood side by side, both wearing a pair of patchwork overalls rolled up to the knee and faded tie-dyed T-shirts Fae had bartered for at the Renaissance Faire.

  They were very colorful.

  “Aunt Fae?”

  “What? Oh, am I angry? Just annoyed, and that’s not much better. And not at you. But there is a lot to annoy me these days. I should embrace the challenge, but you know, dear, sometimes I feel just too damn old.”

  “You’re not old. At least not as old as Grammy.”

  “True. But Leo has lost her great love and that’s made her older than she needs to be.”

  Fae got the sherry bottle out of the pantry and poured it into a Waterford decanter.

  “Great-Grandfather Wes was her great love?”

  Fae nodded and added several jelly glasses to the tray. They were what people called collectibles these days, but to the Whitakers they were just things that had never been thrown away. Fae didn’t know if the ladies of the Theater Fund committee would appreciate drinking their sherry from Tweety Bird or Road Runner or if they would even take their star-studded eyes off Jillian long enough to notice.

  A glance at the tray and she knew neither of them would manage to get it safely to the parlor, where the committee, Jillian, and Leo were waiting. She took the decanter of sherry. “Think you can get the tray to the parlor without losing anything?”

  Steph shrugged.

  “I say we go for it.”

  Steph smiled and Fae’s heart sang. Because hearts could do that. And it was the first real happiness smile she’d seen from Steph. And Fae knew that for all her sins, she had been doubly blessed. “After you.”

  They went single file down the hallway. Steph taking baby steps with her eyes glued to the cookie plate, Fae holding the heavy decanter like it was an offering to a king—or queen—until they reached the parlor. They put the tray and the decanter on the coffee table in front of Jillian, who was lounging on the sofa like Goya’s La Maja.

  Jillian trailed a languid hand and Fae moved away before she could ask her to pour. Steph wasn’t so quick and Jillian said, “Stephanie dear, will you hand the cookies around?” And lo and behold, the girl dipped an awkward curtsy and picked up the plate.

  Leo coughed behind her hand and Fae bit her lip, willing herself not to laugh. It was just like some prank the two of them would have played in the past, and she prayed that this wouldn’t catapult her sister-in-law into better times and make her totally incomprehensible to these adoring ladies.

  The cookie plate made the rounds. Stephanie returned the plate to the coffee table and stood attentively. Jillian smiled at her.

  Fae recognized that smile. “Yell, if you need anything else,” she squawked, and steered the almost-teenager out of the room. “No more Downton Abbey for you, miss.”

  Steph spluttered. Fae laughed and they ran down the hall, giggling like they weren’t all going to hell in a handbasket.

  A blue Suburban minivan was coming out of the Muses by the Sea drive as Issy was turning in. She didn’t even feel a surge of excitement. She’d pretty much given up on ever seeing Dan or Vivienne again. And she doubted if Jillian was making a quick exit in a minivan, though that would be entertaining. She parked and took her two loaves of banana bread inside. She found Jillian and Leo sitting in the front parlor surrounded by glasses and a plate of cookies.

  Jillian was looking smug; Leo looked like she was miles away.

  “Entertaining?” Issy asked with a smile she didn’t feel.

  “Some charming ladies from the Cove Theater asked me to be their hostess at the fund-raising gala in September.”

  “September? You’re planning to stay until September?” Issy asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

  “Unless you’ve changed your mind about lending me your apartment or my agent calls.”

  Issy shook her head. Not her apartment; she’d put her hopes on the agent.

  “Of course you’ll stay here,” Leo said. “The Muses has always been open to artists of all kinds.”

  Jillian and Issy both yanked their attention from each other to Leo.

  Leo blinked. Touched her handkerchief to her mouth. “Why would you leave when you just arrived . . . Jillian? I was hoping we’d have a nice visit.”

  Issy exhaled. Jillian didn’t.

  “Thank you. Mother, I’d love to.”

  “Oh, good,” Issy said, wondering if she could parlay this new information into getting Jillian to take custody of the kids. It would never happen, plus she didn’t trust Jillian enough to leave her here alone.

  But she could put her to work in the meantime. “You know how they say many hands make light work? We have a lot of work to do.” She snagged a cookie off the plate and left the room.

  She didn’t want a cookie. She wanted a nice lunch in the museum café or a hurried deli sandwich at her desk or . . .

  She found Fae and Stephanie in the kitchen, sitting at the table drinking lemonade and dressed like twin clowns from Cirque du Soleil.

  “Do not, I repeat, do not clean up after that woman,” she told them.

  They both sputtered into laughter. Issy’s mouth twisted into a smile. It was impossible not to give in to their mirth. “What did you two do?”

  “Nothing,” Steph said. She turned twinkling eyes on Fae. It was the most animation Issy had ever seen from the girl.

  Fae put down her cup and looked seriously at Issy. “Stephanie made a spectacle of herself.”

  “We both did,” Steph said, and the two of them burst into laughter. It took a couple of attempts, the words and laughter tumbling out together . . . “and then she . . . Downton Abbey . . . in jelly glasses . . . you should have seen . . .”

  “Sorry I missed it.” Issy’s eyes flew to the ceiling, and she wondered if there might be a replica of The Thinker somewhere upstairs, which reminded her that Paolo was on his way.


  She made a quick call to Ogden’s. Explained to Mr. Ogden that she would have a check for half of what they owed plus the amount for the ordered food for the deliveryman.

  He was totally amenable. “I knew it was just some oversight,” he said brightly. “Now, what would you like me to send out?”

  Lunch consisted of soup and egg salad sandwiches at the kitchen table. It seemed odd with the five of them, four generations of the Whitaker family, together in the kitchen. Issy tried to imagine how Norman Rockwell would have painted the scene. And decided it was more appropriate for Edward Hopper. People together, but alone.

  No one spoke. So after a few minutes, Issy said into the silence, “I think we’ll clean the parlor this afternoon, if that’s okay with everybody. I have a colleague arriving with some specs for another job tonight. It would be nice to run the vac and dust before he arrives. Okay with everyone?”

  Leo, Fae, and Steph nodded.

  Jillian had been studying her sandwich with distaste, and stood. “I’ll just be in the way. I think I’ll go into town and look for a charming little bistro. Is there a car I could borrow?”

  No one answered. Not even Leo.

  “Oh, well, the walk will do me good.”

  Issy wondered how she’d suddenly gotten money for lunch. She looked from Fae to Leo.

  “Did one of you loan her money?”

  “She said she didn’t have a penny to her name,” Leo said. “And you know how Wes always tries to help artists in need.”

  Across the table Fae’s sandwich stopped halfway to her mouth. At the same time a shiver ran up Issy’s back. Steph shot a worried look at Leo.

  “Leo,” Fae said in the gruffest voice Issy had ever heard her use. “That artist, as you call her, is your daughter, Jillian.”

  “I know, Fae,” Leo said, and seemed to shrink in her chair. “I just forgot for a moment because I was thinking about something else.”

  “Well, don’t,” Fae said imperatively, but quietly. “And eat your sandwich. It’s your favorite.”

  Steph moved closer to Leo, and after lunch she offered to go upstairs to see Grammy to her nap.

  Issy and Fae stayed at the kitchen table and Issy knew she had to ask. “What’s going on with Grammy?”