The Family Beach House

by Holly Chamberlin

  The family was gathered in the library. Bill sat behind the desk, his hands folded before him, and Teddy was perched on its edge. The others—Tilda, Hannah, Susan, Craig, and Ruth—were seated around the room. Jennifer, too, was there, at Bill’s invitation. She stood at his side. Adam, who was standing apart from the others, made no acknowledgment of her, but by this time no one, probably not even Bill, expected him to treat her with anything like respect. Percy, as if another witness to the scene, was sitting upright on the desk, across from where Teddy sat.

  Tilda felt dread and anticipation and fear and a little bit of excitement. Hannah clutched Susan’s hand. She didn’t know it but she was feeling the same crazed mix of emotions her sister was feeling. Craig’s face was inscrutable, as it had been at his mother’s memorial, but his arms tightly folded across his chest betrayed his discomfort. Only Ruth and Jennifer looked entirely at ease and without expectation.

  Teddy began to read. There was a life insurance policy for Ruth, and the grandchildren were given small monetary gifts. Certain particular objects that had been in the McQueen family for generations were bequeathed. Tilda inherited her maternal grandmother’s diamond solitaire necklace. Craig got his grandfather’s handmade wooden tool chest and all of its interesting contents. Adam got his grandfather’s monogrammed silver cuff links. Hannah got her grandmother’s gold locket and chain. There was even provision made for Jennifer after Bill’s death, something Bill had had added only since their engagement in the hospital. Bill’s Mercedes, which was paid for, and his old and expensive complete collection of Shakespeare, were to be passed on to Bobby. There was a monetary donation to Bill’s favorite charity. Teddy was given Bill’s golf clubs. “But you can’t have them until I’m gone,” Bill said. Everyone, except for Adam, chuckled at that.

  And then, the most important part of the document was read. When Teddy finished reading, there was a silence that roared in their ears.

  Adam, his face purple, broke that silence. “You what?” he shouted at his father. “You’re leaving Larchmere to Hannah? You’re leaving our family home, our legacy, to a lesbian?”

  “Adam!” Tilda cried, horrified, outraged, almost as if the insult had been aimed at her.

  But he ignored her. He turned to Hannah, who had risen from her chair and now stood rigid with shock, Susan’s arm tightly around her shoulders.

  “And your ‘marriage’?” he spat. “Please. It’s a total sham, a disgrace. What a joke.”

  Percy bared his teeth at Adam and hissed loudly. Craig’s hands were in fists by his side and his jaw was clenched. For the first time in over twenty years he wanted to hit someone—and hurt him.

  “How dare you say—” Ruth put her hand over her mouth, as if afraid of what words might come out of it. It was an unusual gesture for a woman who was very good at speaking her mind.

  Bill rose from his chair behind the desk and Tilda moved forward, scared that her father would have another attack. “How dare you talk to your sister this way!” he said, as if picking up where Ruth had left off. “You should be ashamed, Adam. What would your mother say if she were here to listen to such—to such—to such hateful talk?”

  “Mom?” Adam laughed meanly. “Please. She totally agreed with me. She wouldn’t have even bothered to show up at that farce of a wedding. She hated the fact that her daughter was gay. And she would have been disgusted that you chose to leave Larchmere to her and not to someone normal,” he said, pointing at his chest with his long forefinger, “not to the oldest son, not to me.”

  There was another horrible, heavy silence in the room after this display. Adam looked from one to the other of his family though no one but Bill and Craig met his stare. Teddy was rigid, his eyes lowered to the document he still held in his hands. Jennifer had sunk into Bill’s abandoned chair. A low and awful moaning was coming from Percy’s chest.

  Finally, with a shake of his head meant, Tilda was sure, to exhibit his righteous disgust, Adam stalked to the door of the library. “If this insanity is going to stand,” he said, “I’m out of here.” He slammed the door behind him.

  “He’s getting very good at dramatic exits,” Craig noted dryly, finally releasing his fists. “Maybe he should have gone into acting instead of finance.”

  Nobody laughed.

  “I’m so sorry, Hannah.” Bill went to his younger daughter. Susan released her protective hold so that he could give Hannah a powerful hug. “So very sorry.”

  Hannah managed a smile. “It’s okay, Dad,” she said, her voice gruff with emotion. “Everyone is entitled to his own opinions.”

  “Not if they’re contemptible,” Craig muttered.

  Contemptible. Yes, Hannah thought, that was a good word to describe her older brother’s opinion of her. Well, fine. If he found her so distasteful, as the new owner of Larchmere she would simply refuse him access to the property. He would be persona non grata. Adam didn’t approve of her? Well, fine, she didn’t approve of him.

  Hannah took a deep, steadying breath. No. No, she would not ban Adam from his childhood home. There had been enough family dissonance already. Hannah had always tried to be a person who created love and closeness, not hate and distance. Still, it was clear that her relationship with Adam would never be the same. So be it. Life was not all about happy endings. In her opinion, Adam didn’t deserve one.

  Ruth rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. Her brother’s decision to leave Larchmere to Hannah had not surprised her; Adam’s grotesque behavior had, in spite of all she knew about him.

  Jennifer finally rose and came around the desk to where Bill stood. She put her arm through his, more to steady herself than to assist him.

  “Dad,” Hannah said now, “are you sure about this? Are you sure you want to leave Larchmere to me?”

  “I have no doubts, Hannah. I never have.”

  “But how…It will be hard to…When do you want us to…?” Hannah looked to Susan for help but for once, Susan seemed without words.

  Bill’s expression grew puzzled, even, Tilda thought, a bit hurt. “What’s wrong, Hannah?” he asked. “I thought you would be glad to have Larchmere.”

  Hannah clutched her father’s hand. “Oh, Dad, I am glad. And I’m grateful, more than you can ever know, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t also overwhelmed. Larchmere is a huge responsibility. It means so much to all of us. I just…I just hope I can be a worthy keeper.”

  Susan had regained her voice. “It’s just that there are so many things to work out, Bill, details, logistics.” She turned to Teddy. “We’ll need some help, some advice.” Teddy nodded.

  Craig stepped forward a bit and cleared his throat. “Dad,” he said, “Hannah, listen to me for a minute. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, not just since coming here two weeks ago. And now, with all that’s happened, well, I’ve made a decision. I’d like to stay on in Ogunquit and help Hannah run the house in whatever way she chooses.”

  Tilda looked at her father. He seemed stunned. His face was expressionless.

  Hannah wanted to laugh and to cry. “You mean, give up your glamorous life on the road? No more nomadic existence? You want to sleep in the same bed every night? Clean toilets and fix leaking pipes?”

  Craig smiled. “Toilets, too? Well, if I have to…Seriously, I’ve been thinking. I’m tired and I’m lonely and I want to make this commitment. It’s a commitment to my family but also to myself. Besides, the van is on its last legs. Or tires.”

  Tilda felt a twinge of hurt. After all, she had asked Craig to live with her and he had refused! Now he was offering to live with—in whatever capacity—Hannah. But then the twinge was gone. She had come far on this visit to Larchmere. Maybe she even had grown. Craig was doing the right thing for Hannah, just as he had done the right thing for Tilda when he had refused to take responsibility for her life.

  Susan wiped tears from her eyes. “Craig, you’re a real sweetie,” she said.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re getting
into?” Hannah asked him. “You’re making a really big commitment, Craig. Frankly, while I’m grateful for the gesture, I’m not entirely sure I believe it.”

  Craig shrugged. “What choice do you have, Hannah Banana? You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  Hannah turned to Susan, who was still leaking tears. “Well, all right then. We accept your offer. And we thank you.”

  Ruth felt a rush of love and admiration for her younger nephew. She had known all along that he could come home and mean it. “Bravo, Craig,” she said. He blushed and Ruth thought he suddenly looked about ten years old.

  Bill’s eyes were shining now and he shook his son’s hand. “I seem to have done you a disservice all these years. This is a wonderful thing you’re doing for the family.”

  Craig’s blush became furious and he turned to Hannah. “Hannah,” he said, “remember that time earlier this week when you asked me where I’d been and I said nowhere? Well, I’d been talking to Guy Cokal—you know, he’s got a small accounting firm on Pine Road. He’s promised me a job while I study for my CPA. He’s going to train me, get me started.”

  Susan laughed now. “Mr. Never Had A Job doing people’s taxes! There’s more than a little irony there, Craig.”

  “I’ve had plenty of jobs,” Craig said, grinning. “I’ve just never made enough money to pay taxes of my own.”

  Bill turned to Jennifer. “He was always so good with numbers,” he said proudly. “Even when he was a little boy.”

  Craig smiled at his father. “Maybe now I’ll put that talent to some good use.”

  “I’m sure you will, son.” That was Teddy, who until then had been standing a bit apart from the others, as if not to intrude upon the family. “And now that everything’s all sorted out, I’ll take my leave.”

  Bill and Teddy shook hands and then the lawyer was gone.

  “Well,” Ruth said, “it seems to be a perfect time for big announcements and I’ve got one of my own.”

  Hannah managed a feeble smile. “Oh, boy, I’m not sure I can handle another revelation! I’m feeling a little weak in the knees.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing traumatic. I’ve decided to go back to school for a master’s in fine arts, just for the hell of it. I’ve enrolled at New York University. I’ve got the money and I’m eager to spend it. Can’t take it with you and all that. You’re welcome to visit me but with classes and papers and all, I might not be such a fantastic host. You’ll probably have to take yourselves to the Statue of Liberty.”

  “That’s great, Ruth,” Tilda said. “But what about Bobby? He hates New York. He refuses to go there ever since that time he went down for—well, he never did say why he went to New York.”

  “Oh, I’ll be back to Ogunquit whenever I can. This beautiful place by the sea has grown on me. Besides, Percy won’t be thrilled with life in a tiny apartment.”

  “I think this calls for champagne!” That was Susan. “We’ll toast to the future and to a very, very long life for Bill. And for Larchmere!”

  The others agreed.

  It was late, almost eleven o’clock, and though everyone gathered in the sunroom had professed to being beastly tired, no one was inclined to go to bed. Craig occupied a chair to the left of the couch; his legs were draped over one of its arms. On the couch Hannah and Susan sat side by side, both slumped comfortably against the cushions. Tilda, in a chair facing them, had curled her long legs up under her.

  “It’s been quite a few days, hasn’t it?” Craig said, stifling a yawn. “That was meant to be a rhetorical question.”

  There were nods and murmurs of assent.

  Around her neck Hannah wore her grandmother’s gold locket. As soon as she got home she would find a picture of Susan and put it inside.

  “Tilda,” she said now, “will you be honest with me about something?”

  Tilda, who was wearing her grandmother’s diamond solitaire necklace and feeling rather grand, said, “I’ll try to be. I mean, I won’t lie but if you’re going to ask me to break a confidence or—”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I just want to know if you’re in any way upset that Dad…Well, that Larchmere was left to me.”

  “No,” she said promptly, “I’m not upset. Really. I would have been upset if the house was left to Adam. At least now I know Larchmere is in good hands. And that it will always be part of the McQueen legacy.”

  “And your home,” Hannah added. “Our home, all of us.”

  There was a comfortable silence for a moment and then Craig said, “I’m sorry that some of my worst suspicions about Mom were proven true. If we can believe Adam, and in this case, I think that we can.”

  Hannah nodded at Susan, who said, “I know that we can.”

  Tilda shook her head. “I’m not sure that I can believe him. What I mean is, I’m not sure I’m able to believe him, yet. What he said about Mom and how she felt about Hannah…It’s going to take some time for that to become bearable. So many things I thought I knew have turned out to be wrong or partially wrong…. I feel as if I need to reassess my thoughts about a lot of things.”

  “Yes,” Hannah said. “I think I need to reassess some things as well.”

  “Where is Adam, anyway?” Craig asked. “Does anyone know?”

  “I heard him drive off hours ago,” Tilda said. “I hope he doesn’t do something stupid like get drunk and crash his car.”

  Hannah laughed. “God, Tilda, your mind always leaps to the most awful ideas!”

  “I know. Sometimes it would drive Frank crazy, my habit of gloom and doom.”

  “Don’t you think Dad will miss Ruth?” Hannah asked after a moment. “Even though he’s got Jennifer?”

  “Yes, to some extent,” Tilda said. “But Ruth is right to give them some space, at least part of the time. Though I’m not sure giving Dad and Jennifer space had anything to do with her decision to get a master’s degree.”

  “Anyway,” Susan pointed out, “Jennifer’s got the condo in Portland. That can be their getaway, I suppose. Now that he wants us to take possession of Larchmere as soon as possible…”

  There was another lull in the conversation, this one longer than the last. Tilda was thinking of Dennis, who would be going back to Florida very soon. She so wanted to avoid an awkward parting. She had no idea what was on his mind concerning their relationship. She dreaded a big declaration of feeling from him at the same time she chided herself for thinking she was special enough to deserve one from a man she had known only a short time. She would miss him, a little. She wanted him to miss her but not to pine for her. She wanted to try kissing another man.

  Hannah, though happy and excited about the inheritance, was at the same time nervous and afraid and, against her will, entertaining disaster scenarios. What if she started a bed and breakfast only to find out that she had no head for business? What if she neglected to pay the insurance bill and then the house burned to the ground? She was also worrying if she was becoming too much like her doom and gloom sister.

  Susan was mentally going through her business contacts, considering which one might best help her find a therapist to deal with Hannah’s fears of starting a family.

  Craig was thinking about Charlotte. “You know,” he said suddenly, “Mom wasn’t all bad.”

  “Of course she wasn’t,” Tilda said automatically, though she wondered again what her mother had done with all of the knitted gifts she had given her through the years. Some of those sweaters had been very difficult, and not inexpensive, to make.

  Susan, who had never met her mother-in-law, was, as always, torn between loyalty to her wife and a more general fairness. “Few people,” she said, though without conviction, “are entirely bad or heartless or mean-spirited. Or, whatever.”

  Hannah shifted against the pillows. “Maybe she really did the best she could do,” she said, though it sounded to Tilda a little begrudging.

  “Maybe she really wasn’t meant to be a parent but just sort of went along with it because all h
er friends were having kids or it was the thing for women of her generation to do or…” Susan trailed off.

  “Whatever the truth about Charlotte McQueen,” Craig said now, almost as if trying to further convince himself, “she’s gone. She has no power over us anymore. We’re free to be who we need to be.”

  Hannah was not quite ready to agree. “I know she gave money to charity,” she blurted. “There was some arts organization or something.”

  “Yes,” Tilda said. “Back in Boston. She chaired a fund-raiser, I think. I remember her buying a new gown for the event. It was black velvet. I thought she looked like a queen that night. I so worshipped her.”

  No one had anything to say to that.

  “Well,” Craig said, hoisting himself from his chair, “I’m off to bed.”

  The others trailed off after him. Tilda was the last to leave the sunroom. “Goodnight, Mom,” she whispered, as she turned off the light.

  42

  Tuesday, July 31

  It was about eight-thirty in the morning. Tilda had just come back from town where she had picked up several daily papers and, in Bread and Roses, had bought an assortment of pastries for breakfast. In the bakery she had run into Pat Riley, who owned a pizza joint in Wells, and Anne Bauer, his wife. Both had been at the party after the memorial. Both were effusive with good wishes for Bill’s total recovery and for his upcoming nuptials. (Not surprisingly, word had gotten around!) Love and respect for her father seemed to be universal. It made Tilda feel proud to be his daughter.

  Tilda got out of her car and saw that Adam was at his own car. The rear hatch of the Range Rover was open and she watched him reach inside and pull out several pieces of paper on which one of the kids had colored, an empty PowerBar wrapper, and a still dripping juice box. He crumpled these and shoved them in a plastic bag that sat on the ground by the right back tire.