Anyway, it was at that private, tentative dinner, just weeks before, on the tails of discovering the lighthouse and Nora’s diary entries and in the wake of Kate’s reunion with Matt… it was there that angry energy turned soft. Megan and Brian shelved the legal pages that had been so carefully curated by their two separate lawyers. She’d clapped the ick from her hands and smiled at him over the table. He smiled back. They shoveled mint chocolate chip ice cream into their mouths.
And then, he murmured an apology.
No.
No divorce yet. That part of things remained the same. By now, the paperwork was likely expired. Did divorce paperwork expire? Was there a best-by date when someone said they wanted to quit love?
She hoped so.
Still, the grand fantasy fizzled in a matter of days. June wore into July. Megan and Brian’s alone time, the time away from Sarah, who stayed in Birch Harbor to help her aunts, began to feel less like alone time and more like together time. And in a wobbly marriage, together time was generally a bad thing.
The Fourth of July, Megan’s second favorite holiday after Halloween, had presented a fresh opportunity. She and Brian ambled down to the local parade, a Who’s Who of Suburbia.
But that year the floats lacked the magical patriotism that Independence was meant for. Instead of hope, each coasting trailer blared out messages of disruption. And those were the better ones. Others were decorated commercials, touting garish sponsorships out of Detroit. Then, the school’s marching band passed them in between its rotations of “America the Beautiful” and “This Land is Your Land,” so all Megan and Brian had were the tired drummers, fumbling along to a beat, weak and out of tune, ready to shed their itchy uniforms and chug a pop before the cherry pit spitting contest.
Then, later, Megan and Brian returned home to what might have been an intimate barbecue. But the burgers Brian cooked were too charred. Megan’s lemonade too sour. Finally, the fireworks, the part she anticipated so fiercely that there was no way they could have lived up to her dreams… well, those fireworks started too late. So, after the parade and crispy burgers and acrid lemonade, Megan and her almost-ex fell into bed.
The same one, yes.
But sleep came too quickly for one or the other. Neither knew which since both were pretending.
Now, Megan folded one of the real estate spec sheets into a tight square and shoved it into her back pocket. A memento or scratch paper for some undetermined future use, she didn’t know which.
The doorbell rang. Megan stirred back to life. No one liked a sulky attitude. Least of all potential homebuyers. Of course, they also didn’t like the home seller to be around, peeking over their shoulder as they inspected the drawers for signs of errant hair ties. Or as they criticized the distinct lack of storage space—storage space, of all things!
“I’m out of here,” Megan whispered to her sister, as the latter strode towards the front door.
Slipping back out onto the patio, she cinched her dark ponytail tighter and tiptoed through the backyard and around to the front of the house in time for the first arrivals to step into Kate’s warm, realtor-y greeting.
Once in her car, Megan let out a sigh of relief. She turned the ignition and punched the air on, then checked her mirrors, ready to take a few lazy loops throughout the neighborhood.
The gear stayed in park, though, and soon enough Megan found herself on the phone, her fingers navigating to him, the familiar name and the familiar digits… hitting Send. Waiting as it rang. Once. Twice. His voice came on.
As he answered, another call came in. Kate. Megan let it go to voicemail. Soon enough, she’d hear about the open house. The interested party with the hefty down payment and a taste for pillows on patio furniture.
It was all but irrelevant because as Megan heard his voice, something occurred to her. Something more important than a house in the suburbs with its lack of storage space and close proximity to the school.
The burgers weren’t that burned. The lemonade was more tart than sour, really. The fireworks weren’t too late… the bed was just too comfy. And Megan knew for a fact that when she thought he’d fallen asleep, finally, long after the finale of stars and stripes had petered out… Brian’s hand had brushed hers. Beneath their covers. Just days before.
Maybe the Fourth wasn’t a bust. Maybe it was a beginning.
2
Kate
“So, what’s the plan?” Kate flashed a grin at her sister and Brian. “You’ll both move into the Heirloom Inn? With me?”
Previously, she’d been under the impression Brian was going his separate way. To an apartment or something. But then, a day after the offer came in on the Stevensons’ house, he decided to join Megan on the lake for the day. And Megan had whispered something to Kate about hope. A reunion. New plan.
Kate was confused.
Sure enough, there they were, back in Birch Harbor, sipping iced tea at Birch Village. Shore birds barked just yards off, at the edges of the dock, as tourists and locals came and went, striding in steady measure up and down the wooden planks, laughing and flushed in the Michigan summer sun.
Megan held Kate’s gaze, slowly nodding her head. “As long as you’re sure we aren’t taking income from you. And as long as Sarah has a comfortable place somewhere. Until we make permanent arrangements. For everyone.”
They’d been over this. It was the only option now that the offer on the house was in. Things were moving fast. Too fast, perhaps, for Megan and Brian, who weren’t as cemented in their plan as Kate thought.
“Sarah can keep staying with Clara. Or Amelia. She’s the least of your concerns.” Kate said. “You can stay with me. Both of you. For however long you need.” She lifted a brow to them. “We reserved my old room for family. It’s empty. It’s yours.” She smiled at Brian, who shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.
Megan’s eyes flicked to her husband before returning to her iced tea. “Does that work for you?” She frowned, running her finger up the side of the glass.
Brian’s hands flew up. “Listen, this is awkward. I didn’t think the place would go fast. When Megan called me before I left town, I panicked. I… I stopped by that townhouse and signed. The lease, I mean.” He shook his head to himself and lowered his gaze, pushing his fingers into his eyes and rubbing them.
“You what?” Megan replied, her voice cold. Kate’s anticipation turned to dread. No way did she wish to be a party to drama. Megan kept her cool, but her face and voice filled with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kate sat, quiet, trying to pretend she wasn’t even there. Just another patron at a different table minding her own business. Someone wasn’t telling the truth. Megan, probably. Or, even worse, she wasn’t facing the truth.
“Just a month-to-month. I didn’t want to take a chance.” His answer came out under his breath, like he was ashamed to admit it.
Megan’s tone softened. “Oh. Okay.” Then her eyes flashed back to Kate. “I’ll stay with you. That’ll be fine. I can help. At least until…”
Surprised at how quickly the building squabble halted into resolution, Kate simply lifted her gaze. “Until?”
Brian reached a hand to the back of Megan’s chair then started to recoil, then settled it on the edge. The smallest hint of how tenuous their dynamic really was. Still, he left it, and Kate thought he was trying to watch Megan from the corner of his eye. It was fascinating to behold: that subtle game of cat and mouse wherein the roles continually flipped back and forth. Brian cleared his throat and Megan finally met his stare. Kate thought her sister’s face reddened. Maybe it was July playing across her cheeks. Maybe something else. “Until we have a place,” he said, his voice low.
Megan’s eyes grew wide, and Kate wanted to grin like a fool. Instead, she followed Megan’s cue, simply smiling and sipping from her tea.
“Yeah,” Megan managed, choking a little on her tea. “Good idea.”
With the matter settled, they commenced eating their sandwiches. The afte
rnoon stretched before them, and Kate’s to-do list, which previously felt miles long and thicker than a stack of Bibles, turned into mindless fodder for the remainder of the trio’s lunch. Having odds-and-ends to discuss apparently relaxed Brian, who chimed in on occasion, going as far as to make frequent eye contact with both Kate and his wife. His hand settled further along Megan’s chair back, and from Kate’s position, it looked like he’d wrapped it around his wife’s shoulders.
It was no wonder the divorce ended up rockier than the marriage, Kate thought. Those two were meant to be together. It’s why they lost the paperwork. It’s why Brian returned to town with Megan, like a forlorn puppy dog. But it didn’t explain why they put their house on the market. If a couple wasn’t quite certain about parting ways, why add another monkey wrench and give up the only stable force in their life?
No matter how sweet his nervous hand or easy agreement, or how quick Megan was to smile at him… it was clear to Kate that they still needed out of something.
Maybe that was why they listed.
A fresh start. Someplace new. Even if the someplace was no place and they weren’t together, anyway.
Brian covered the check, shuffling between a couple different credit cards before settling on one, thanking the women for their company, then leaving to head back into the city. He needed to see about the townhome and settle some other paperwork.
Megan sighed deeply after he strode from the table. Her eyes never left him.
Once it was just the two sisters again, Kate suggested they stroll down to the lake and walk off lunch.
“Do you think it’ll close quickly?” Megan asked, as they slid out of their shoes and plucked them up by the heels, stepping onto the warm beach on the north end of the dock.
Kate wiggled her toes until crunchy grains of sand pushed up between them. “You mean your house? Yes, I do.”
Megan looked thoughtful.
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Can you bring me into the loop, here?” Kate’s face hardened, but Megan didn’t return the stare and instead darted closer to the water. Following her, Kate asked again, “Why did you two want to rush to sell? Don’t get me wrong. I thought it was because you were going to see through the separation. Give each other some space. And, Megan, I am happy to help however you need. I’m glad you’re making a fresh start of things, but I’m confused. One minute you’re not together, then the next you’re talking about a ‘permanent arrangement.’ You want to list, then you don’t. Now you’re both here, but Brian signed a lease there…” Kate’s voice trailed off.
“We were getting a divorce.”
A gull swooped low, just missing its chance at a broadsided fish of some order. Kate didn’t know much about fish or fishing or any of the marine life on Lake Huron or any other. In truth, she didn’t know much about life, period. But she knew when her younger—youngest—sister was holding back. “It’s okay if you don’t know,” Kate said at last. “But you need to be careful about making big decisions while you’re uncertain. Does that make sense?” It was the best advice she could offer. For them to slow down. Look at the big picture. Not rush into divorce or selling a house or getting back together… and especially not all three at once. Even if they were edging toward a fresh start.
“I know,” Megan whispered back. “I feel like…” she hesitated, lifting water from the edge of the lake on her toe and flinging it out. “I feel like I need someone else to make decisions for me. The house thing just happened fast. I mean, that was the plan in May, right? Then in June. And then things sort of improved, but we’d already decided. And Sarah wants to be here.” The last sentence came out weakly, and Kate recalled that Megan had all but laughed at the notion of uprooting her daughter the year before she graduated.
“Sarah had one more year of high school. Did she really want to miss that?” Something didn’t add up.
Megan drew her hands to her face and shook her head, a sound like a sob preceding what she said next. “Brian lost his job.”
Kate gasped and immediately regretted it, covering her mouth in her hands to shield her sister from her reaction. It was too late, of course. “Megan,” she hissed in sympathetic accusation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Megan then cinched her dark ponytail and dropped her arms. Her hands clapped her thighs. The sob that had caught in her throat must have fallen back down to her chest, settling there. Megan was good at that. Holding back tears. Kate, less so.
Above them, the sun started its earthward descent, drawing short shadows on the sand. At length, Megan replied, “I wasn’t sure it would affect me.”
“How could it not affect you?” They stopped along the wet line where water crept in slow rhythm, nearing their feet. Sometimes it met them, a cool pull of beach tugging them nearer to the lake. Sometimes it didn’t, teasing instead.
“We weren’t going to be together, remember?” Megan’s tone was acid. “Maybe we still won’t. I don’t know. Every day feels different. Every moment, even. When he told me, he was so crushed. Humiliated even. He lashed out. Then he got better. I just didn’t think it would matter. I figured… oh, hell, Kate. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Maybe I was humiliated, too.”
Swallowing, Kate reached a hand to Megan, who took it.
They stood like that and stared across the water for some moments, the noise from the dock pulsing across them like a shock wave, leaving them in an odd silence against background buzzing. Like they were at a party, having some drama in a room upstairs while everyone else was laughing and enjoying life.
Finally, Kate broke the quiet. “Is he working now?”
Megan nodded. “He has another week. We found out two weeks ago. He wasn’t fired,” she added quickly. “The company had budget cuts. His position was eliminated.”
Wide-eyed, Kate frowned. “A week ago? That’s when you called me. To list the house. You were so… adamant.”
A weak smile lifted the corners of Megan’s mouth. “We figured it was a sign. That mortgage is insane. And I have nothing to contribute. It felt like the safe move. For him and for me. For us.” Megan’s eyes flashed at Kate. “You can’t say anything. We were going to keep it quiet. Even Sarah doesn’t know. She’s already struggling with… well, you know. And anyway, Brian has a few interviews this week. He’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. And if the house sale goes through, then we’ll really be fine.”
Kate nodded, assuring Megan she’d keep the secret. Another thought came. “Do you have savings? I mean, I will help however I can. But if you have something to tide you over, maybe you don’t have to sell? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying. Oh, Megan, I’m sorry.” She blinked and pushed the heel of her hand to her head, Megan’s stress welling there inside, forming a headache. “I shouldn’t pry.”
“It’s fine. And yes. We have a little. It’ll get him set up, I guess. It’s another reason the divorce is on hold, frankly.” Megan blinked and kicked at a lump of sand. “He’ll find something. I’ll find something. And I’ll help at the Inn, okay?” Megan narrowed her eyes on Kate, the little ruddy attitude breaking through Megan’s sadness. It was the same face she’d made as an edgy teenager. Her eyes lit up, her cheeks blazed red, and her hair even turned darker. Like a tantrum. Kate sometimes couldn’t see her sisters as grownups. Didn’t want to, maybe.
Without answering, Kate grabbed Megan and pulled her out of the lip of water and into a deep hug.
And they kept walking. For a long, quiet time.
“You know what?” Kate said once they’d passed the spread of shops and eateries and started to round back.
“What?” Megan asked.
“I think you were right.” Kate smiled. “I think it was a sign.”
3
Amelia
“You told me that Brian thought you should start a business,” Amelia pointed out. “Why don’t you?”
It was late
afternoon, and the sun had already crept down below the third floor of the house on the harbor, casting the backyard and the cove beyond in a long shadow, cooling that slice of waterfront space just enough to enjoy an early wine on the deck. The four Hannigans and Megan’s daughter, Sarah, had settled there together, in game-plan mode. The mission? Help Megan figure out what in the world she was going to do with her life.
Sarah and Clara lounged in bikinis, towels tied around their waists. They’d spent the afternoon laying out, despite Kate’s nagging about sunscreen and UV rays and skin cancer. Amelia could see clearly that Clara had started to change. She was different that summer. Outside more. With others more. A good change. A change that trumped an hour in the sun, probably.
Amelia, Megan, and Kate sipped on their wine at the patio table, feet away from the younger two. Amelia’s eyebrows pinched together at her revelation. Younger two. Clara was falling back in time a little. That’s what having a younger niece (or, rather, cousin) did. It reversed the aging process. Amelia should really get her hands on a younger cousin. Maybe she could wipe away the crow’s lines she’d worked so hard to erase.
“He did say that,” Megan answered. Her speech was a little slower than when Amelia first showed up at the Inn after a long day up the shore.
The lighthouse project was coming along nicely. By Labor Day, she and Michael expected to be open for business, hosting day tours. Her evenings were already consumed. It had taken only weeks for Amelia to ingratiate herself with the Birch Harbor Players. And she took on the role of full-time property manager for The Bungalows. It was funny to her, now, that she thought she was so busy in New York. Life was slow, then, by comparison.
“Why did he?” Amelia prompted her sister.
Megan sighed. “We had this weird moment back at the start of summer. It was when I didn’t get that job with Mistletoe.”
Fireflies in the Field Page 2
