The Widow's Walk

by Carole Ann Moleti

  Mike hesitated. Should he say hello to Allison first, or go where he’d sworn never to go again and be with his wife?

  Laugher drifted down the hall. The kids were having a great time. He went upstairs.

  Liz stood by the window looking out over the bay. Sleeves of blouses, legs of pants, a tangle of baby pajamas draped over the sides of cardboard boxes–her life was in total disarray.

  It didn’t feel the same in the room, no foreboding, no comfort, nothing.

  “Are you okay?” He stood behind Liz and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m not sure. How are we going to explain this mess?”

  “Just close the bedroom door. They don’t have to know anything.” Why didn’t he just tell her to forget about selling the inn, that he’d made a terrible mistake? Why was he being so stubborn?

  “I shouldn’t have let Jay come, not now. Allison, well, she’ll think selling this place makes a lot of sense.”

  “Liz?” Mae’s voice echoed in the hall.

  “Here,” she called.

  Mae poked her head in. “I don’t want to upset ya, but did everythin’ go okay? Since Jay’s here, I imagine somethin’ good took place.”

  Mike answered for her. “Let’s just say Jay came to his mother’s defense. We’re hoping the case will be dropped.”

  “I didn’t say anythin’ to either of them about . . . Mae’s voice clutched, “us leavin’. This is goin’ to be a celebration. I made up two rooms and loaded up on food.” She bustled out.

  “The last celebration.” Liz sank into her vanity chair. Despair painted her face.

  Mike stood behind her and massaged her neck. “I wish we could figure some way to avoid selling the Barrett Inn.” There, it was out. No capitulation, just acknowledging that he’d welcome a miracle as much as she.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get through the rest of this day.” The tears flowed.

  Mike knelt next to her. “Liz, I know this is killing you.”

  “It’s like Elisabeth dying all over again, like a piece of me is missing.”

  Someone rapped at the door. Liz pulled a tissue out of the vanity box and dried her eyes. Mike went to see who it was.

  Jay had a knack for intruding at the worst possible times.

  “Wow, it’s a mess in here. Mom, I know you’re not feeling very much like celebrating today, but I wondered if you knew where that Red Sox outfit that I bought for Eddie is. I’m dying to go out and throw a ball to him, and it would be great if he was dressed in that. Dana and Allison are going to take pictures.”

  Liz got up like she was eighty years old. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve been packing . . . getting together things that don’t fit, stuff to get rid off, and that suit is right . . .” she rummaged in a box of stretchie pajamas and tiny jeans “. . . here. Should fit him very well. His jacket is by the back door.” She gave the clothing, still on a hanger with tags attached, to Jay.

  “This is probably a good time to talk. We won’t have much time alone later.”

  Mike tried to protect his wife. “What is there to talk about, Jay?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for weeks. Mom, remember I told you I was having these weird dreams? Well, I woke up one day and remembered Dad telling me exactly what I should do. I know it sounds weird, but he told me show up in court and let Bill have it.”

  Liz managed a half-hearted smile. “It doesn’t’ sound weird at all, Jay. Your father guides me all the time.”

  Mike was tempted to join the love fest and confess about Mary, then thought better of it. None of this was about him–directly, anyway.

  “That’s not all. In two months I turn twenty-one, and the trust Dad set up for me reverts to my control. I’ll direct Marianne to split the proceeds between you and Eddie. If it’s managed well, Eddie will have a college fund as big as mine. You’ll have plenty to keep the inn up to date and running.”

  “Jay, that’s your money!” Liz’s eyes were the wide in shock.

  Mike choked back his surprise, but mother and son weren’t paying a whit of attention to him.

  “Yeah, but I have what I need to finish college.”

  “By the time you graduate you’ll have nothing left.”

  “Most kids don’t have anything at all, plus big loans. I’ll be free and clear and intend to make money the way you and Dad did–working for it.”

  She stood and took his arms. “But you want to got to law school–I can’t let you do this.”

  “Dad wanted me to go to law school, but he wanted you to have your Cape house. He hand picked Brian Saltzman as a partner, and the agreement was, when I graduated, I could go work for the firm.

  “Brian is devastated by what Bill did, and trying his best to keep everything solvent. He’s agreed to take me as an intern and law clerk, and then as a partner when I pass the bar.”

  Liz exhaled. “Jay, that is a nice dream but there are so many things that might get in the way of it happening.”

  “It’s going to happen, Mom, I know it is. I’ve made my peace with Dad. Now I have to make it with the two of you.”

  Mike didn’t dare say anything. It really wasn’t his business, but that kind of money was an incredible gift. Could this kid have an ulterior motive, or was he truly penitent?

  “I don’t know what to say.” Liz hugged herself like she was cold.

  Jay embraced her. “Nothing. Just relax about money. You and Dad worked too hard for you to be losing your home now.”

  Liz pulled away. “How did you know that?

  “I overheard Mae talking to Kevin.”

  Allison called upstairs. “Jay, what happened to baseball with the baby–and pictures?”

  “I’ll be right down.” He grabbed the baby’s Red Sox outfit and closed the door behind him on the way out.

  Liz looked at Mike, eyes narrowed, head wagging. “Should I believe any of this?”

  Joy flooded Mike for the first time in months. “If it’s true, we won’t have to sell the Barrett Inn.” There was no reason not to come clean now.

  “But the ghosts, Mike.”

  “Now there is nothing to stop us from living in my house and renting all the rooms in the Inn. There are ghosts or reincarnates everywhere it seems and they flock to us like mosquitoes to a swamp no matter where we go.”

  Liz put her face in her hands. “I still don’t know if I can face everyone.” Things were happening too fast.

  She couldn’t allow herself to hope only to be wrecked on the rocks of reality later on.

  Jay and Allison were down there likely wondering what the hell was wrong that the hostess was missing? Did Allison even know about the court appearance, or the incident, or the financial morass? Probably not.

  Happy voices drifted in from outside.

  “Let’s go down to the party.” Mike took her hand. “For Eddie. You want to be in his first birthday pictures, don’t you?”

  Liz waited for Elisabeth to react, but there wasn’t a whisper of discontent. The presence of Elisabeth’s absence was as unsettling as her intrusions.

  Mike put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to tell Mae and Kevin the good news. Come down when you’re ready.”

  She watched out the window as Eddie toddled around, dragging a plastic bat. Jay tried to get him to stand still and swing. Allison guffawed as Jay dogged the baby’s batting efforts. Dana leaped around to get the best camera angle.

  Liz opened the window to get a better look. Moist, salty air kissed her face. Her despair vanished as Edward’s misty kisses evaporated on her cheeks.

  She went downstairs. The aroma of something Italian drifted out as the kitchen door swung open and Mike came out.

  “Mae and Kevin are happy, I assume.”


  “Ecstatic.” Mike said. “By the way, how much is the trust worth?”

  “A million dollars. My husband had built a very valuable law firm.”

  Mike gulped. “That much?”

  “Yeah. Plenty to fix up your–our–house, pay Kevin and Mae back, and send them on a vacation to Ireland.”

  Mike crinkled the left side of his face. “Do you think Sandra had any hand in this? I mean, I told her to conjure a million bucks and she said she’d see what she could do.”

  “I’ve learned to be open to anything, Mike.”

  “If it’s all right, I’d like to invite her over for birthday cake.”

  Liz nodded. “Bethea was Elisabeth’s best friend. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to feel that way about Sandra, but yes, she has a good heart and is very lonely. Call her.”

  Mike put on a birthday hat and took a blower along for practice. Liz went into the kitchen, put two candles on the cake, and set the table with the ‘Baby’s First Birthday’ party goods. Elisabeth was buried deep, or gone, nowhere to be felt. Being accountable to her one true self was something Liz had to get used to.

  Epilogue

  “Wawa!” Eddie toddled barefoot on the sand picking up shells.

  Gulls screeched. A gentle breeze blew off the bay, tinged with salt, seaweed.

  Cold water numbed Liz’s toes and mottled Eddie’s legs.

  There was no trace of Edward. Elisabeth, too, was quiescent, appeased.

  Liz packed the baby into the stroller and he fell asleep clutching his treasures: a shiny, triangular rock and a quahog shell, bleached bone white. She brushed the sand off her feet and slipped into sandals before heading up Paine’s Creek Road.

  New life, new energy, suffused the air as Brewster prepared for the summer season. Painters gave Kate’s another coat. Road crews raked the shoulders, trimmed the overgrown grasses. She hurried across 6A, into the circular drive.

  Birds twittered in the pines. Warm sunshine broke through the haze, bathed the yard, banished the chill, the despair, the desperation. The horses grazed quietly on tufts of new green grass rising out of the brown mat. The smell of damp earth, onion grass, of rain lingered.

  Mae opened windows, slapped rugs on the wooden porch. Freshly washed curtains flapped like flags in the breeze. Soon, the lilt of a new batch of Irish chambermaids would join her, lending a festive, European air to the formal rooms and classic architecture.

  Rumors of the master suite having visitations were out, and the Barrett Inn was booked for the entire summer. The dress was where it belonged, behind a glass enclosure in the closet, with all of Elisabeth’s other things. Ghost tours of Brewster, led by Sandra, would be stopping here once a week, and they’d be serving a formal tea, with readings, in the parlour to the attendees. More income–for both of them.

  A hoe and rake beckoned like sentinels near the garden. Liz dug her gloves out of the barn, parked Eddie in the shade, and got started.

  Kevin walked by her toiling in the patch. “Ya gonna put in the corn and pumpkins this year?”

  “I want the fall harvest crops here so they can spread out. It will look pretty to have the colors in the garden for a festival at the Inn. Herbs in the window boxes. We’ll plant tomatoes and other veggies at our house.”

  “Good idea.” He wandered toward the barn, pausing to pull out a patch of dead twigs and stalks against the fence.

  Cape Cod Magazine was already planning coverage of a holiday book release party at the Barrett Inn for Victorian Art, Architecture and Textiles: A Primer. The advance would just about cover the cost of the festivities, but the relief of finishing the project was worth more. Her agent was thrilled that Liz’s “novel” about Elisabeth’s life would piggy back on the publicity well into the following year. But she’d have to write it first.

  Getting ready for high season, the challenge of chasing Eddie, and the occasional substitute gig didn’t leave much free time for that, but chronicling Elisabeth’s story helped make lemonade from life’s bitter fruit.

  She dug faster. Once Eddie woke up she’d have to chase him around. Hoe, break up the clods, rake them out. Worms wiggled through the soil.

  This ground is rich and fertile, Mrs. Barrett. Jared always helped when Edward was away but still alive, and the world was going according to plan.

  These recollections were far less troubling, though the melancholy over the past was something Liz still struggled to banish. Falling asleep every night in her husband’s arms, awakening well-rested, ready for another day of hard work, was one benefit of the new living arrangement. She’d return to the inn every morning to a more peaceful coexistence with the ghosts, but keeping up with the passage of time had proven a new challenge. Her back already ached, her elbow twinged.

  Kevin and Mike had spent mud season painting the colonial, their house, their refuge. The damn shutters were gone, most of the old furniture replaced with new, comfortable things they could call their own. Sure the kitchen and bathrooms needed remodeling, but that could wait until they had the money.

  Bethea worked her farm plot–the only way a widow with a young child could survive. Liz wandered over to the pine tree she’d buried the crystals under. In her frenzy to discard them, she’d taken little notice of landmarks, but something, more likely someone, guided the blade of her shovel to the right spot. One thrust unearthed the muddied silk containing the key fob, matching necklace, and ankle bracelet.

  Liz held them in her hands until the stones recharged, drawing renewed energy from their owner. She shoved them into her pocket and got back to work. Might they ease her body and mind? Why not be open to it?

  Mike watched his wife working the soil. The horses stood behind her in the paddock. All that was missing to place this scene back in 1876 was a long black dress and a British accent. Jared rumbled. I fell in love with Elisabeth in that very moment–before we were all swept into a vortex we never escaped.

  Anguish, sadness congealed in Mike’s chest like melted wax. The pneumonia had left his lungs weaker. Most people would chalk it up to age. He knew better; the ravaged ghosts of everyone’s past lingered just below the surface. Some were just more aware of it than others. Less stamina, more breathlessness–but he wouldn’t surrender to it. The anger, the melancholy would not settle there, would not weigh him down, would not kill him this time.

  He glanced up at the widow’s walk, newly repaired, ready for the always vigilant Elisabeth waiting for Captain Barrett to come home again. It had been there for over a century, and if he and Liz had anything to do with it, it would be there for another one.

  “Let me help.” Mike picked up the hoe and started on another patch while Liz raked the first flat.

  Jared and Elisabeth paused, acknowledged each other. A tickle of romance, of excitement ran through him. Liz’s bright eyes stared into his, but Mike knew–and he still wasn’t sure how–that she had sensed it, too.

  “Do you remember? Liz leaned on the rake handle.

  “Every stinking detail. Jared fell in love–and Elisabeth never realized what was happening.” He dropped the hoe.

  His ghost vanished, appeased.

  “And can you live with all this?” She rested the rake against the fence and swiped her sleeve across a sweaty, dirt stained forehead.

  “I think we’ve both got the situation under control.” He grabbed Liz. “Always wanted to sweep you off your feet and sneak into the woods.”

  Really?” Liz hung her arms around his neck.

  “Yeah.” He swallowed her lips with his and headed south.

  Liz giggled and escaped. “Was that you or Jared?”

  “Not sure.” It didn’t matter.

  “Look what I found.” She dangled his key fob.

  The unexpected surprise brought a grin to his lips. “Where was it?”


  “Being discharged, cleansed. We should go back to see Sandra. I have to get a new chain.”

  “And those matching moonstone wedding bands.” He rustled the stones between his palms. They warmed to his touch. Contentment swirled around him like the spring breeze.

  Eddie stirred and whimpered.

  “Guess we’ll have to finish this project and have our tryst tomorrow.” Mike helped Liz over the garden fence and pushed the stroller through the pine grove to their house.