“Why didn’t you just put long sleeves on?” Kate asked. She was long familiar with the agony of accidently falling victim to a DIY job.
“I had them on,” he replied, his face red from laughter. It was a new look on Michael, at least to Kate. All she had seen of him lately was his serious lawyer side. Amelia was good for him, maybe. And he, probably, was good for her. “God forbid I push one sleeve up for a moment. It was certain death for my skin.” He pulled Amelia into him and playfully nuzzled her neck for a brief moment before remembering they had an audience.
The conversation moved on to how helpful Sarah was. How much work the lighthouse was. How little they had found left behind from the Actons.
“Have you been in touch with Liesel?” Kate asked the question with a degree of hesitation. It was still a soft spot for all of them. Spongy and tender.
Amelia sniffed and dabbed a paper napkin across her lips. “No. Well, yes and no. We’ve spoken once or twice. Just what I already told you. How she signed over the deed. All that.”
“Is she curious?” Megan asked, her tone darker than Kate’s.
Frowning now, Amelia replied, “What do you mean?”
Learning about Liesel Hart had rocked their worlds, sent them reeling. Some of them. Not Kate, really. Being at the center of the Hannigan family’s deepest shame, she’d always sensed that other, deeper secrets lay in her ancestral line. And while she had never considered how close those secrets might be, the matter of a family scandal was the fabric of her being. She was a scandal for so long. Learning of a second, older scandal was nothing short of relief. Not a shock. Not a letdown. A relief.
It was Amelia who appeared to struggle the most with the revelation that they had an older sister. Someone unfamiliar and strange, floating around in the world. For the second oldest Hannigan, Liesel would answer their questions and solve all their problems. That’s just how Amelia was. Optimistic and dreaming and so certain in the opportunities of all things uncertain.
Kate often wondered to herself and aloud if she even wanted to know this woman. After all, just her mere existence was good enough for Kate. Oh, you were entangled in a teenage pregnancy, too? Sorry about that. Have a good life anyway!
Then there was Megan, cynical, questioning Megan who rarely accepted the face value of a situation. She was of the opinion that A. Biology or not, this Liesel woman was a total stranger, and B. The truth was so muddled that who knew if Liesel was Nora’s mystery baby? Would they really spend all their energy nailing down the facts about some stranger when they had a more pressing mystery to solve?
Kate’s sister’s points were valid. Maybe falling into the black hole that was the Acton lighthouse and Liesel Hart and Gene Carmichael was a risk not worth taking. Instead of learning more, they might realize they would only understand less.
“Is this Liesel person curious about us? I mean, she held the deed to our father’s inheritance—our inheritance, then gave it up like that.” Megan snapped her fingers and shook her head. “Is she going to come to Birch Harbor? To meet us?” Her eyebrows knitted themselves together, and Megan leaned away from the table.
Amelia’s face fell. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe one day, when we’ve gotten to know her better?” Shaking her head, she glanced at Michael. “She was a little thrown off by the news about Gene and all.”
Megan laughed derisively. “Yeah, I’d be thrown off, too, if I found out the man I pinned for my dad was someone else’s dad. Oh, and he had four daughters who wanted the property that I finagled my way into.” She rolled her eyes.
A chill crept along Kate’s spine. She shook it. Not only had Liesel’s mere existence called into question ghosts from their pasts, but it had also dragged out just how convoluted their father’s disappearance really was.
Kate held her hands up. “Let’s talk about something else for once, please?”
Megan shrugged. Amelia lifted an eyebrow.
“Megan and I stopped at the so-called Hannigan Field on the way here.” She threw it out there like a piece of rubbery bait and waited for someone to take it.
Amelia took a long swig of wine, apparently bored. Michael’s head turned in interest. Megan, for her part, pressed her lips into a thin smile, expectant. Like Kate was going to make something happen. Magic, maybe.
It was Sarah, though, who chimed in. “What’s the point of that place?”
“What do you mean?” Kate frowned at the girl.
“Like, what’s the point of having empty land? I don’t get it.” She set down her half-gnawed-on cob and folded her arms over her chest, picking up on the shift in the meal and running away with it.
Kate persevered, steering them back toward a more pleasant avenue. “Well, having land is like having the world, in case you didn’t know.”
Sarah twisted her mouth into a sideways pout. “Vivi said the only thing useful on the inland side of Harbor Ave is the high school.”
At that, Kate choked on her tea, laughing and coughing together.
Megan hissed at her daughter. “That’s exactly what a private school islander would say. She doesn’t know a thing about Birch Harbor.”
Kate hated to agree that her boyfriend’s daughter was something of a brat, so she tried to ignore Sarah’s snide comment.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah shot back as the conversation further devolved beneath a layer of irritation.
Raising her hand, Kate decided to try once more. After all, Megan’s daughter wasn’t a local. Not yet. She needed a little lakeside lesson. “Okay, okay. Hang on. I’ve got this.” She threw a look to Megan, willing her sister to be quiet and allow for a calm, clear conversation on one of the most volatile aspects of growing up in their hamlet of Lake Huron. “Heirloom Island is way different than Birch Harbor. It’s sort of like a miniature Martha’s Vineyard. Or Nantucket. A lot of big money goes to the island. That’s where the Catholic school is. That’s where Vivi was raised. Birch Harbor is a little more down home. More casual. Easy-breezy, you know? So, naturally Vivi only thinks about what she hears at the marina and on the island. She doesn’t know the bigger picture. We have lots going on inland here, I assure you. It’s where the cottage is. It’s where the entire school district is. Michael, your office is west of the Ave, right?” She knew full well it was, but pulling in an objective third party could only help.
The lawyer nodded, sagely. “And we have old money in Birch Harbor, both shoreside and inland. Settler money, remember?”
Amelia jumped in. “That’s true. The Hannigans, for example, Sarah. Your very own grandparents came from a bit of the green stuff.”
“Mom always said that all you did growing up was work. That they weren’t rich until later.”
Kate chewed the side of her lip, searching for a response. “Well, that’s true. But our grandparents, Nora’s parents, I mean, did have some money. They also had several kids and ended up taking that money elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“Some moved closer to Detroit. Some out to Arizona.”
“Why did they move if they had money and family here?” Sarah asked.
Her questions, though tiresome, were honest. Kate took a deep sigh before diving into her version of an answer. “I suppose it goes back to some deep-seated small-town grudge or something. Our grandparents owned the house on the harbor which was passed on to them from the original Hannigans who settled the area. Other locals wanted that place to become something else, something to serve the community. That’s where they wanted to develop Birch Village or maybe make a little port to drive commercial traffic through here rather than elsewhere. But Birch Harbor never became a city or a big place. It always stayed small. Our mother told us other locals blamed the Hannigans for refusing to develop and squirreling away money from their various enterprises. Some thought they were selfish and greedy. That they didn’t give back.” Kate glanced at Megan and Amelia, who were listening with as much interest as Sarah, like they didn’t know the full story. Or d
idn’t remember it. Maybe they didn’t.
“Sounds complicated,” Sarah answered. Gone was her condescension. In its place, somber curiosity. “So, Grandma and Grandpa got rich again, after working hard? And locals started to like them again?”
“Yes and no. They weren’t making money from the house on the harbor, not like Grandma’s parents had with running a boating service out from the cove. Nora and Wendell had to find other ways to bring in money, so they bought The Bungalows for income property. I don’t know what locals thought about that. Things were a little crazy around that time in our lives.” Kate’s memories of high school rushed into her mind, meeting Matt, enjoying her time with him. It was a distraction from her mother’s various quests to re-integrate into Birch Harbor society. The woman couldn’t seem to find the right balance between making money and gaining respect that way and serving the community and gaining even more admiration that way.
“So why the cottage and the farmland? Were they going to start a farm with cows and stuff? Is that what we’re going to do with it?” Sarah frowned at her mother.
Megan cackled. “No, we’re not opening a farm. I don’t know the first thing about cows. But we are going to do something with that land.”
“So, we’re staying?” Sarah cocked an eyebrow high on her forehead, and Kate saw what the girl had been getting at that whole time.
Kate swallowed and shifted her gaze to Megan, waiting for the answer, too.
Clearing her voice, Megan replied, “Why not?”
7
Megan
Things had to move fast if she was really going to make a go of it. After all, the sale of her house was going through, Brian was now in his apartment, and Sarah had started to forge friendships with Birch Harbor’s (and Heirloom Island’s) most elite clique.
Plus, school registration was underway. Sarah’s schooling became the biggest deciding factor in what Megan would do: go back to their old neighborhood and find cheaper digs or make the big move home.
And she couldn’t make the choice alone. After all, she was still married to Brian. There was no formal custody arrangement. Technically, they were doing everything together. Including deciding where Sarah would be for her senior year of high school.
Regret had set in. Serious regret. They never should have sold the house. She could have started working at Target during the day. Waiting tables at night. Megan hadn’t tried hard enough. Brian hadn’t either. He could have done the same. The local grocery store was always hiring after all. They allowed full-on panic and financial fear to cloud their better judgment. But now August was closing in, and school would begin in September.
Even Sarah started mentioning her own worries about the future, wondering if she should move in with a friend from her old school. Maybe Birch Harbor was too weird for her. Maybe colleges would frown on a mid-high-school-career transfer?
It had been just a couple of days since Megan joined Sarah on the lake but almost two months since Sarah had been staying with Amelia at the lighthouse as some sort of apprentice. And four months since talk of a divorce cracked open. The Stevenson family was fractured. They needed stability and they needed it now.
So, she called the only other person on earth who could help her shake her indecision and settle on an answer.
Her almost-ex.
“Hey,” Megan said when his voice came on the phone. She sat on the back deck at the Inn. Kate, Amelia, Sarah, and Clara were inside, hatching plans for a summer gala. The plan was to set up an end-of-summer event to draw new attention to the Heirloom Inn and officially open the Birch Harbor Lighthouse all in one fell swoop. Amelia was juggling her new positions across the shoreline with resurrecting the lighthouse and forging ahead with the search for Wendell.
Meanwhile the other Hannigans were starting to lose interest. After all, it was hard to care much about a man who left in the darkest hour of the girls’ young lives. The grand idea of tracking him down and shaking the truth out of him was losing steam for Kate, Megan, and certainly Clara. That’s how things worked on the lake. Water washed ideas in and out on the gentle current. Sure, the facts surrounding Wendell’s disappearance would reappear. Just not as a tidal wave or a riptide, but instead as a soft seeping flow, pulling the sand out from beneath their feet once they were certain they had finally found a dry spot to stand.
“Hey,” Brian replied. Traffic sounds buzzed in behind his voice. If her timing was right, he’d be stepping out of an interview right about then. She could kill two birds with just one phone call. Get back to her sisters. Take a deep breath. Function again, this time with a game plan.
A smile pricked at her mouth. “How did it go?”
“I have good news and bad news,” he said.
She stilled herself. In the new normal of their separation, their free-floating, never-ending separation, the good news could be bad and the bad news could be good. It was all very jumbled. “Okay. Start with the bad, I guess.”
“The bad news is I didn’t get the job.”
Her heart sank. That was bad news. He needed a job. He needed money. He needed both more than Megan did. It was a slap to them both, because if Brian couldn’t get a job, then Megan had no hope. Brian was employable. He had a degree and over a decade with his recent company. In good standing, too. Very good standing, in fact, and if he’d been a little more passionate about the software, he might have been promoted rather than let go. Then again, cuts were cuts, and Brian’s competency should have saved him. Wasn’t that all that mattered anymore? Competency? The ability to perform a job regardless of how interested you were?
Megan was not employable and her applications to various dating apps (the only thing she thought she wanted to do) had ground to a halt. Instead, she was now toying with the misery of dropping her bare-bones resume at every shop front and eatery in Birch Village. “Oh, Brian,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s really okay,” he went on, “because the good news is that I have an idea.”
“An idea?”
He spoke fast, almost tripping over his words like a kid who just hatched a plan for his next great adventure. “I can develop my own app. This is my chance, Meg. This could jolt me back to life a little. I can do what I want to do. I know the tech. I just need to find an avenue. An underserved industry that needs easy mobile access.”
Underserved industry. The expression stuck in her ear, slogging its way into her brain then hanging there. Megan frowned, racking her brain. Where had she just heard that phrase? She snapped her fingers. Kate. The Inn. Birch Harbor’s small-town businesses that cater to tourists and townies alike… quirky, off-beat ventures that offer an experience.
She shook her head. The connection was irrelevant.
Brian’s excitement, even if it was devoid of the greater context of their family’s difficult circumstances, did produce an opportunity. This was Megan’s chance to extend an olive branch to the man in the form of a little support. Yes, support. The thing she’d longed for in much of their marriage but had been too busy with her own lack of it to really put effort into offering it. The thing that got them where they were. Angry nights flashed in her mind. Heated words. Accusations. You’ve never supported me! and Where’s your support? All those times had turned her against the whole concept, as though it was psychobabble or something.
But here she was now, with her own agenda and needs (and Sarah’s, to be fair), and she could go one of two ways: remind him that his dream job mattered several degrees less than their living situation… or encourage him. What was there to lose? Another dead-end argument?
She swallowed. “Brian, that’s fantastic. It’s a great way to look at a crummy situation. I think you should go for it.” Through the very act of quelling her irritation, Megan’s words landed with sincerity. “I mean every word.”
“Really?” His smile was audible over the phone.
“Really. Whatever you think of will be fantastic.”
“Thanks, Megan. That me
ans a lot to me. I know it’s going to keep our situation a little fluid. I might have to pull from savings. The townhouse has two bedrooms, though. If you don’t want to stay in Birch Harbor longer—”
“Actually,” she cut in, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to talk about that.” She let out a quiet sigh, a tentatively happy one. It worked. She gave, and now he was giving. Emotionally, at least.
“You want to leave?” he asked, his tone falling deeper.
“No, I want to stay. I think Sarah does, too. Most days, at least.” She picked at a fingernail, clearing away the last flake of black polish. Her nails were nearly bare now. She needed a fresh coat. Maybe a different color. Maybe a break from dark.
“That’s okay. We can get together on weekends. Sarah can stay here whenever. Or, wait a minute…”
Brian wasn’t totally over-focused on his career. She fully expected the lightbulb to click on in his head. And it had.
“Oh. School. It’s almost August,” he added weakly.
“Right,” Megan agreed. “It’s time to really decide, Brian. It’s her senior year.” Megan folded her lips between her teeth, bracing for his response. All of a sudden, it seemed absolutely crazy that they hadn’t already committed to something. Was it that there was a loose commitment? An assumption? That Sarah would just go to Birch Harbor High like they’d sort of, kind of agreed upon one day in early June? The day Sarah declared that nothing would make her happier than to have a year on the lake. It’d be like studying abroad, she’d urged her parents against their skepticism. Megan continued, “I mean, a third option is renting something small near home.” Even as she said the word, home, it felt false. Awkward on her tongue. Their suburbia bliss was no longer home. Hadn’t been in forever. Wasn’t just as soon as Brian lost his job and they settled on selling the overpriced ranch-style four bedroom. The one on a sprawling acre of crisp green grass with uniform hedges and morning joggers smiling, full of breath and stay-at-home-mom energy…
Fireflies in the Field Page 5
