"You saved her life, Dan. She knows that."
He shook his head, because it seemed to him that he should have done better, and he said, "How is she handling this?"
"I don't see how she can ever—"
"She will," he said firmly. "In time."
"The resilience of youth?"
"That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it," he said, prompting a wan smile from her. After a pause, he added, "What about Michael?"
Some of the light and all of the smile left Maddie's face. "At first they thought he was having a psychotic episode as a result of some kind of prolonged drug use. But it's worse than that. They did an MRI scan. The drugs, they're what caused some of his behavior—but not all of it, Detective Bailey told me. It doesn't look good. They said the tumor's inoperable."
Hawke said softly, "I hope your family's there for you and Tracey."
Maddie nodded. "It took a major crisis ... but yes, we're starting over."
"Starting over," he said, closing his eyes and sighing. "I like the ring of that." He gazed at her face, strengthened by the very sight of her. "I'm willing, Maddie. You?"
For an answer she bent over him and dropped an angel's kiss on his lips. "Willing, and able."
Epilogue
Three years later.
"Is my cap on straight?"
"Who's going to notice?" said her stepfather, tugging on her tassel. "They'll all be too dazzled by your smile."
"I'm so nervous."
"You're going to be the best valedictorian in the history of Mount Fidelis School for Girls. Knock 'em dead, tiger. I've got to get back to my seat. Your mother wants every second of this on video."
He took a couple of steps away, then came back and straightened her mortarboard. "There. Now it's straight."
He melted into the assembling crowd of families and faculty, and Tracey—in between bursts of excited conversation with her friends—went over her speech. She had so much to say and her heart was so full; but with a stepfather in television and a mother in teaching, she felt more pressure than she'd ever felt before, more even than during the debate for the state championship.
The graduates were given the signal to line up in order, and somehow that settled her nerves. By the time Tracey stood at the podium, she had herself under control—which she had better be able to do, if she was going to be a TV news reporter.
Tracey scanned the audience for her family and friends.
She found Norah first, wearing a wide-brimmed white hat and sitting next to Joan and her fiancé. Next to them were all of her family. Everyone was waving and smiling, even her step-dad as he filmed her at the podium. He had the zoom all the way out on the camera and she knew it was high-def, so she couldn't cry; it would be so uncool.
She hugged herself with her elbows and lifted the corners of the first page of her speech. Her hands shook as she held them, and her voice started out a little wobbly, but she gained confidence with every sentence, because she believed so much in the words she had written on those pages.
"It's customary," she said into the microphone, "to begin by thanking our parents and our teachers, our mentors and our coaches, for all that they've done to get us here in one piece. But I want to back up a little, and thank our parents for having had us in the first place.
"It couldn't have been easy to make that decision, not with all the dangers and pitfalls and time-consuming demands and, yes, expenses that are involved in bringing up a family. It would have been so much easier for them not to have bothered. But they did bother, not only to have us, but to stick with us, and agonize over us, and pay for us, and at all times, to love us.
"Many of us—most of us—are from blended families. Even more activities, more expense, less time, more stress: that's what parents in a blended family have to deal with every day of their lives. So to our mothers and fathers, to our stepmothers and our stepfathers—thank you, from all of us. Each of you has contributed in some way to the fact that we're here and ready and eager for the next phase of our lives."
Tracey looked up from her notes at the sound of a child's shriek; she knew it well. "I think my baby sister wants me to get on with this, so I—Mom, don't you cry, too! If you do, I will, and that'll ruin Dad's video for sure...."
****
Sarah Timmons was seated at the picnic table in Rosedale's garden, holding her three-year-old grandson on her lap.
George Junior was everything she could ever hope for in a grandchild—a beautiful, fair-haired boy who was perfectly content with whatever amusement he was offered. At the moment he was scribbling with a crayon in a coloring book. As far as Sarah could tell, he had no artistic talent at all, which pleased her: perhaps he would go into business.
She smiled as Tracey approached, holding the hand of her two-year-old stepsister Emma. Behind them, tail wagging as usual, trotted the dreadful stray mutt that Dan had rescued during that awful summer.
"Grandma, a bunch of us are going across to the beach," said Tracey. "Aunt Claire said that we could take Woody, too."
"Tracey, dear, I've told you before; please call him George."
"But he likes the name Woody—don't you, you widdle George Sherwood Timmons?" she cooed, crouching down and rubbing noses with the boy. "Want to go wading with us?"
Young George scrunched his face and rubbed his nose, and went back to his coloring book.
Tracey shrugged and said, "Okay, Emma, it's just you and us." She looked down at the girl and said, "Ready to go wading, Emma? In the big water?"
Emma's gypsy eyes went round with excitement as she nodded vigorously, then broke from Tracey's grasp and ran around in a big circle, screaming a wordless cheer.
Sarah sighed and shook her head. "Will she ever talk? Considering that her parents are such great communicators...."
Tracey ran after the toddler and snatched her up, blowing raspberries into her fat bare belly and sending her into shrieks of joy. "Emma doesn't need words, do you, sweetie? Come on, let's go by the big water."
Sarah said, "You'd better watch her every single minute, Tracey. You know how she is."
"Yes, Grandma."
Still unhappy at the prospect, Sarah said to her granddaughter, "Emma, would you like to stay here and color in the book, hmm? With George?"
Little George frowned and pulled the coloring book closer to him. Emma said, "No, no, no!" and made a grabbing gesture with her fist over Tracey's shoulder toward the sea.
"See, Grandma? She knows some words," said Tracey, and off they went.
Dan was filming it all. Now he zoomed in close on Sarah and said, "Say something for posterity, Sarah, on this momentous occasion."
Sarah cringed at the thought of the close-up of her face. She was feeling her age more than ever; maybe it was the sight of so many new beginnings unfolding around her. She resisted the urge to smooth her hair or compress her lips to bring color to them, and instead looked directly at the camera and said, "Congratulations on your graduation, Tracey. We are all very, very proud of you."
Dan grinned and shut down the camera. "Thank you, ma'am," he said. "Only fifty-two guests to go."
He went off to capture his wife on film as she supervised the cleanup from the barbecue. Maddie shooed him away, but it didn't work; she ended up in his arms again.
"Someone ought to tell those two to get a room," John said, laughing, as he dropped on the bench next to Sarah.
John Gunderson, resident keeper and tour director of the relocated Sandy Point lighthouse, never missed the chance for sexual innuendo.
Sarah tried to give him a cool look, but—as usual when he came up with one of his insinuations—she felt her cheeks burn pink. "Hello, John. I'm surprised you're not out sailing. It's a fine day for it."
He arched one grizzled eyebrow at her and said puckishly, "And miss a free meal? Not on your life."
"You like to tease," she said evenly.
"I like to tease you."
Her cheeks burned hotter. He was an odd duck, this John Gunderson—a man
who'd sailed around the world and come back home only after a bout with gangrene in Thailand cost him his leg below his left knee. At Halloween he actually replaced his prosthesis with a peg leg, strapped on an eye patch, and handed out Three Musketeers bars to kids trick-or-treating at the keeper's house. He was famous for miles around.
And he liked to tease Sarah.
"More than anyone else," he said aloud, reading her mind.
She stared at the scribbles in young George's coloring book for a long time while John sprawled at ease with his back to the picnic table, his elbows supporting his weight, and scanned the horizon for sails.
She took a deep breath. "I was just about to get myself some cake and coffee," she said.
"And so was I. You sit, Sarah. You sit. I'll take care of us both."
****
From across the yard Maddie nudged her husband in the ribs and said, "Are you getting this? Are you getting this?"
"I am," said Dan, zooming in on the couple at the picnic table, "but don't expect your mother to be thrilled about it."
"Someday she'll thank me. After they're married."
The seaman marched off to the dessert table and Dan shut down the camera, then turned to his wife. "You honestly think that can happen? Since when are you such a hopeless romantic?"
Maddie slipped her arms around him and said, "Since you came back to me. Oh, Dan," she added with a happy sigh, "it doesn't seem possible to feel this much joy."
He grinned and caught one of her hands in his, then began sliding it from behind him to his front. "You wanna feel joy? Here, I'll let you feel joy."
"Dan!" she said, lowering her gaze and looking around her. "Someone will see!"
He laughed. "Okay, let's tell 'em all to go home, then." He kissed her fleetingly, but the kiss had a burning edge to it, one she knew well.
She dropped her voice even lower and said, "I know I've been busy planning the party, but it's only been—"
"A week and two days!"
"Nine days," she said through a reproving smile. "Is that so very long?"
"It is when you look so good and act so happy," he whispered close to her ear. "How about it? Would anyone miss us?"
Scandalized, she said, "Dan! Definitely!"
He sighed and said, "Yeah. I guess they would. Ah, well. Back to work." He kissed her lightly and wandered off, joking with the guests and warming them up for the camera.
Maddie watched him, handsome and at ease as he recorded the graduation event for his stepdaughter. He was, beyond a doubt, the most beguiling, wonderful, devoted ....
She watched him wander past Sarah Timmons and John Gunderson and say something funny enough to make Sarah laugh out loud. An amazing man! And he belonged to her, Maddie Hawke. It didn't seem possible.
Her heart welled up and she felt a surge of that old, old ache for him. Life was short. He wanted her, and she wanted him, and what did a few people around them really matter?
She caught up with him and stood on tiptoe. "Upstairs," she whispered in his ear. "Five minutes."
He flashed her a million-dollar grin and said, "That's how much time we get, or that's when I should go?"
"Scram," she said, laughing.
Maddie spent the next five minutes backing into the house and then through the kitchen, fielding guests like ping-pong balls. Suddenly everyone had something to say to her; but she didn't care. The single most important thing that she wanted to hear was that Daniel Hawke loved her, and the best way to hear that was in his arms.
But first, the alibi. She went into the upstairs bathroom, turned on the light and the fan, and stepped back out into the hall, closing the bathroom door behind her.
The door to their bedroom was already closed; she sneaked down the hall and tiptoed into the room like a burglar. She assumed that Dan would be naked and on the bed—he was reckless enough—and was surprised to see him, still dressed, standing at the gabled window and looking out. He had drawn the lace curtain aside and held it pinned to the window frame as he stared out at the distance.
"Hi there," she said, suddenly shy.
He glanced over his shoulder and gestured her over with a smile, then wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. "Look out there," he told her. "What do you see?"
"I see roses, lots of them ... roofs ... and beyond them, the sea," said Maddie. "I see a strip of beach. I see—ah!—I see all that we hold dear."
Dan chuckled and said, "Look at her run ... well, you wouldn't really call it a run ... more like a bowlegged waddle ... but the sand is slowing her down. She'll be fleet as the wind someday."
"Couldn't you just squeeze her?" Maddie said, biting her lip through a grin. "How were we so incredibly lucky?"
"I don't know ... I don't know. Look at her chase after Tracey. God, she adores her. What's she going to do when Tracey goes off to college?" He turned to Maddie and said with a sudden, hapless look, "What're we going to do?"
Maddie said lightly, "The way I look at it, it's a wash. We gain some privacy; we lose a sitter."
He gave her a sideways, good-humored look. "Baloney, a wash. You're going to fall apart completely when she packs up for Cornell this fall."
Sighing, Maddie said, "I will—but not in front of her. I'm just too happy for her. Between the two girls, I don't know who's the greater miracle. Dan ... we're so incredibly lucky."
"I know ... I know. Isn't that Kevin throwing the Frisbee?"
"Mm-hmm. He's signed up for the Coast Guard, did you know?"
"It's where he should be," Dan agreed.
"Mmm."
Arm in arm, they watched the scene on the beach in loving silence. Eventually Dan smiled and said softly, "Hey, dollin', it looks like our five minutes are up. We'd better get back to our guests."
He kissed her on the top of her head, but Maddie had other ideas. She lifted her face to his, fluttering her lashes closed, and said, "I love you, Dan Hawke. For everything, I love you." Her mouth parted for his kiss.
The lace curtain dropped back into place, casting crystals of sunlight on the cool white sheets of their bed.
More for your Nook by Antoinette Stockenberg
(Select the book title to purchase from Barnes & Noble)
Coming in April!
A Month at the Shore
" An addictive, captivating story of love, family and trust."
-- Romance Reviews Today
Laura Shore has fled her humble past on Cape Cod and made a name for herself on the opposite coast. But when she returns and joins forces with her two siblings to try to save Shore Gardens, the failing family nursery, she finds that she hasn't left the past behind at all. Kendall Barclay, the town's rich son and her childhood knight in shining armor, lives there still, and his hold over Laura is as strong as ever. Like a true knight, he's attentive, courteous, and ready to help -- until a discovery is made that threatens the family, the nursery, and Laura's deepening relationship with him.
Select here to read the prologue and five sample chapters of A Month at the Shore.
Keepsake
"Deeply emotional … unforgettable"
--amazon.com review
KEEPSAKE ... a postcard-perfect town in Connecticut. When stonemason Quinn Leary returns after seventeen years, he has one desire: to prove his father's innocence of a terrible crime committed when Quinn and Olivia Bennett, town princess, were high-school rivals. Class doesn't matter now but family loyalties do, and they're fierce enough to threaten the newfound passion between two equals.
Select here to read the prologue and four sample chapters of Keepsake.
Safe Harbor
"Complex … fast-moving …humorous … tender"
--Publishers Weekly
SAFE HARBOR. That's what Martha's Vineyard has always been for Holly Anderson, folk artist, dreamer and eternal optimist. If she could just afford to buy the house and barn she's renting, fall in love, marry the guy and then have children as sweet as her nieces, life would be pretty much perfect.
; Poor Holly. She has so much to learn.
Select here to read two sample chapters of Safe Harbor.
Beloved
"Richly rewarding … a novel to be savored."
--Romantic Times Magazine
A Nantucket cottage by the sea: the inheritance is a dream come true for Jane Drew. Too bad it comes with a ghost —and a soulfully seductive neighbor who'd just as soon boot Jane off the island.
Select here to read two sample chapters of Beloved.
Time After Time
"As hilarious as it is heart-tugging ... a rollicking great read."
--I'll Take Romance
In Gilded-Age Newport, an upstairs-downstairs romance between a well-born son and a humble maid is cut short of marriage. A hundred years later, the descendants of that ill-fated union seem destined to repeat history. Or not.
Select here to read two sample chapters of Time After Time.
Emily's Ghost
RITA Award Winner
"Booksellers' recommended read."
--Publishers Weekly
A showdown between a U.S. Senator (with a house on Martha's Vineyard) who believes in ghosts and a reporter who doesn't. What could possibly go wrong?
Beyond Midnight
"Full of charm and wit, Stockenberg's latest is truly enthralling."
--Publishers Weekly
In 1692, Salem, Massachusetts was the setting for the infamous persecution of innocents accused of witchcraft. Three centuries later, little has changed. Helen Evett, widowed mother of two and owner of a prestigious preschool in town, finds her family, her fortunes, and her life's work threatened —all because she feels driven to protect the sweet three-year-old daughter of a man who knows everything about finance but not so much about fathering.
Embers
"A deft blend of mystery and romance … sure to win more kudos"
--Publishers Weekly
To Meg Hazard, it seemed like a good idea at the time: squeezing her extended family into the back rooms of their rambling Victorian home and converting the rest of the house into a Bed and Breakfast in the coastal town of Bar Harbor, Maine. Paying guests are most welcome, but the arrival of a Chicago cop on medical leave turns out to be both good news and bad news for Meg and the Inn Between.
A Charmed Place Page 35
