Sunrise on Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  “That’s a shame,” Aunt Maude said. “Family is very important. People might not always agree and see eye to eye ... but in the end, family is what sustains us.”

  I glanced up to see my aunt’s gaze on me, a smile on her face.

  “And sometimes one doesn’t even realize the family they have,” Julia said.

  “What do you mean?” Dora asked.

  Tara laughed. “Do you want to tell our story or should I?”

  Julia’s laughter joined her cousin’s. “I think it’s your turn.”

  “Well,” Tara began, “my father had a brother and they both served in World War Two at the same time, stationed in England. I grew up always hearing my mom tell the story that my dad was actually engaged to a woman in England during the war, but he came home, met my mother, ... and ended up sending a telegram to this other woman saying he’d changed his mind. He was marrying somebody else.”

  “Oh, that’s sad,” Chloe said.

  “Yes, except if that hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here telling you this story,” Tara said, causing us all to laugh.

  “His brother, who is my uncle, was married before he left for the war. Now fast forward to over sixty years later, and I receive an e-mail—from a girl in England asking if I’m the daughter of so and so, from Salem, Massachusetts. I was. The e-mail went on to say that she had reason to believe we were related and from the same family.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Devon exclaimed. “What an amazing story.”

  “It gets better,” Tara said. “Come to find out, the girl writing the e-mail was Julia’s daughter, Sally. I wrote back right away, and pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. But for a little while, I questioned if perhaps Julia was my sister and not my cousin, because of that woman my father had been engaged to.”

  “Oh! Wow!” Riley said, leaning across the table fully engrossed in the story. “But you’re cousins, right?”

  Tara nodded. “Yes, and the evidence that proved it was due to the fact that Julia’s father had to have been in England in November of 1944, because she was born in August of 1945. My father was part of the Normandy Invasion and therefore left England late May 1944, according to a diary he had kept. So of course, he wasn’t there when Julia’s mother became pregnant. But my uncle was, and it was his name on Julia’s birth certificate anyway. Julia never saw the official copy of her birth certificate until a few years ago when her son and daughter began working on a family tree and genealogy, after her mother died.”

  “Did your mother ever share any of this with you?” Aunt Maude asked.

  “No. She always refused to talk about it. All she’d tell me was that my father was an American but had been killed in the war.”

  “Do you think he knew about you? And you never got to meet him?” Dora questioned.

  “That’s part of the puzzle we’ll never have an answer to—whether he knew about me or not. And no, unfortunately, I never got to meet him. That’s why I’m so grateful to have at least found my cousin.” Julia reached over to give Tara’s hand a squeeze.

  “And I’m just as grateful,” Tara said. “I was the only girl on my dad’s side of the family—all boy cousins. It took over sixty years, but I finally have my female cousin. And—our grandmother’s name was Julia. Julia was named after our grandmother.”

  “That is such a cool story,” Riley said.

  Aunt Maude shook her head. “And I think it only proves once again that truth is definitely stranger than fiction.”

  27

  Over dinner that evening Chloe informed my aunt and me that she’d looked at the building and apartment on Second Street, fallen in love with it, and had made an offer.

  “That’s great,” I said. “When do you think you’ll hear something?”

  “By Friday. So I’m hoping they’ll accept and I’ll have a place of my own.”

  “I’ve loved having you here,” Maude said. “But yes, we all need our own space. Especially women, according to Virginia Woolf.”

  “Right,” I said. “According to her, a woman is to have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”

  Chloe laughed. “Well, I’m not planning to write anything, but it’ll give me some personal liberty. Something I’ve never really had.”

  “Tony’s Restaurant is downstairs, but what do you plan to do with the empty shop next door?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I think I’ll advertise for a tenant. Somebody might want to open a small business there.”

  “Well, look at you—my sister, the new land baron on Cedar Key. Good for you, Chloe. I’d say you’re coming into your own.”

  Chloe laughed. “Yeah, at age forty-eight, guess it’s about time.”

  Our conversation then drifted to how well our first knitting retreat had gone.

  “Such nice ladies,” my aunt said. “All six of them.”

  “I know, and I love how they’re sharing about themselves and telling their stories.” I reached for another delicious biscuit my aunt had baked.

  “I think they all represent the embodiment of women.” Maude took a sip of sweet tea. “The sisters went through a scary and life-changing ordeal. The cousins had a delightful story of finding each other and proving life is full of surprises, and I think Riley and Devon are on a good path for their own destinies. They’re both young, but I think they’re both willing to face life head-on.”

  “It was a lot of fun,” Chloe said. “I really enjoyed it—way more than I thought I would—and now I’m really looking forward to the Blue Moon ceremony Sunday evening.”

  When I went upstairs later I realized it had been a while since I’d done a tarot reading for myself. After lighting some sage and cedar incense, I sat at the kitchen table with the deck in front of me.

  I let my mind wander and then removed three cards. Turning over the first one, once again the card representing Beau Hamilton stared up at me. What is it with his card now appearing regularly? Before turning over the next card, I allowed myself to think about him—something I seldom did.

  I wondered if he was happy and if his life was going well. Beau was a decent person. So was I, and neither one of us had entered that relationship with the intention of hurting the other. Those things just happen.

  I fingered the cards as Lucas came into my mind and found myself comparing what I felt for him with what I’d felt for Beau. Similar, but very different. I had loved Beau, and yet—it wasn’t a forever kind of love, which I was beginning to think I had found with Lucas. My entire relationship with Lucas was different. The one word that came to mind was free. I was free to be exactly who I am. With Beau, due to the circumstances, I always felt on guard. Always concerned that we might be seen together, that his wife would find out, and the guilt that I tried to push down was always simmering just below the surface. Certainly not good qualities to forge a lifetime relationship.

  I let out a deep sigh and pushed the cards aside. Maybe Lucas’s grandmother was right. Maybe one should look beyond cards for the answers in life.

  I awoke Sunday morning filled with anticipation about the Blue Moon ceremony that evening. Milky blue light was filtering through the blinds. I felt Annie curled up beside me. As I reached out to stroke her fur it was then that I glimpsed a vision in the corner of the room. Misty at first, the form took on shape, and I realized it was the same woman I’d seen before—but this time she wasn’t pregnant. She was wearing the same long white dress, which now reminded me of an old-fashioned wedding gown. Her figure was slim and willowy. I attempted to adjust my eyes to see her more clearly and saw her smile at me.

  I heard the soft words, “You are learning to find your own answers. Do not question them. Listen to your soul and follow your destiny.”

  I blinked and saw the form begin to fade. She disappeared so quickly I now questioned if she had really been there. And did I actually hear her say that? Or did I only hear those words in my head?

  What the hell is going on?

  Annie stirred and
I swung my legs to the side of the bed. Getting up, I slowly walked to the corner of the room, which was empty. Looking down at the oak floor, I gasped. There, neatly folded, lay the two baby sweaters that I had knitted for Monica’s baby—and had misplaced.

  I bent down and tentatively reached out my hand to touch them. They were real. The exact sweaters that I had searched for and been unable to find. I clutched them in my hand, feeling the soft fiber, wondering yet again about a possible other dimension we had little knowledge of.

  Later that afternoon at the carriage house all of us were knitting away when Riley brought up the subject of ghosts.

  “Do you all believe in them?” she asked.

  I got the feeling that Riley had no qualms about being different both in her manner of style and her philosophies.

  After a few moments of silence Aunt Maude said, “Well, I don’t not believe in them. Have you ever witnessed any?”

  “No, not exactly. But ... I sometimes have feelings. And I think it’s my mom and she’s with me. It’s almost like she’s trying to tell me something.”

  I decided to bite the bullet and was prepared for laughter and disbelief from the group. “Well, I happen to have a visitor in my apartment. She’s appeared to me twice,” I relayed, and went on to explain about the possibility of Bess Coachman or another spirit.

  There was no laughter, and all six women leaned forward, putting their knitting in their laps.

  “What do you think she wants?” Martha questioned.

  “I’m not sure she wants anything,” I said. “I’m beginning to think maybe she’s trying to guide me, force me to figure some things out in my life.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” Devon said. She turned toward her friend. “See, Riley, I told you you’re not crazy. You really could be feeling your mom near you.”

  Julia nodded. “Oh, yes, definitely. I’m sure all of you know that England is famous for having many spirits hovering about. Be open to it, Riley. Don’t discount an experience that could be beneficial to you.”

  “I agree,” Aunt Maude said. “I think many times if we pay attention, much insight is gained.”

  “Gee,” Chloe said, picking up her knitting. “I wonder if there’ll be a ghost in the building I might be purchasing downtown.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Dora said. “That’s a pretty old building, just like Coachman House is, and that’s where they seem to hang around.” She cleared her throat. “Well ... that is, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

  Chloe smiled. “And I have a feeling you do, Miss Dora. Hmm, maybe I’ll be lucky and it’ll be a male ghost. Tall, dark, and handsome. Oh, and a wonderful housekeeper and chef. He’ll cater to my every whim.”

  The room erupted in laughter.

  “You wish,” I said, shaking my head. I liked this new sister of mine. I liked her sense of humor and the mellowness that now seemed to surround her.

  By the end of the afternoon, Riley had perfected making cables, Tara and Julia had learned intarsia, other knitting projects had been completed and new ones begun. But most of all, eleven women had bonded in the age-old ritual of female friendship, which would be further cemented during the Blue Moon ceremony.

  28

  At five o’clock that afternoon as the sun was descending in the western sky, all of us gathered on the beach at City Park.

  Chloe and Aunt Maude were uncorking bottles of wine while I poured and passed each woman a glass. Riley was playing a haunting New Age melody on her flute while Suellen was strumming similar chords on her guitar.

  “Okay,” I said, after the wine had been distributed and I was holding up my glass. “I want to propose a toast to the first knitting retreat weekend. May you take away what you need and leave the rest behind. The six of you will always be extra special to us because, well ... you were the first.”

  “Here, here,” the crowd said, as all of us touched glasses together.

  After taking a sip, Suellen placed her glass on the table and picked up her guitar. This time the sound was lively and upbeat, and I recognized the music from the song by Sister Sledge, “We Are Family.”

  Shoes were removed as Suellen proceeded to lead us along the edge of the shore into the water, playing her guitar, our voices singing the lyrics, as each woman held the hand of the woman in front of her.

  “That was great,” Chloe said, attempting to catch her breath.

  “It certainly was,” Dora replied, still laughing.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this weekend.” Tara plunked down onto the blanket.

  “Me either,” Julia said, joining her.

  “You know,” Dora said, looking at Riley. “I think we need to hear ‘Amazing Grace.’ That was one of my sister Sybile’s favorite songs, and it was the two of us that had the first Blue Moon ceremony here on the island. Think you could play that?”

  Riley nodded, and the lilting sound of the music filled the air as we all quietly listened.

  When she finished, a round of applause followed.

  “That was very appropriate,” my aunt said. “Thank you, Riley. And also thank you to you, Dora, and Sybile—who I have no doubt is right here with us.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s all form a circle and hold hands.”

  Once everyone had done this, I said, “Now let’s close our eyes. Focus on sounds and smells and energy surrounding you. Allow yourself to become one with the water, the sky, and the beauty of the island. Take in some deep breaths and slowly blow them out. Think about what you might want to bring into your life and what you might want to discard.”

  I closed my eyes and did exactly that. I thought about Beau Hamilton, and for the first time in ten years I wasn’t consumed with guilt. Or regret. Or thoughts of what might have been. Instead, I saw Lucas’s face. Although he had never uttered the words, I felt his love. I felt it deep in my soul, because it matched the love I felt for him. I inhaled deeply and blew out a breath. It was finally time to discard what I had shared with Beau. Beau was meant to cross my path for many reasons, but he wasn’t meant to remain in my life. I was almost certain that Lucas Trudeau was. I took in another breath, exhaled it, and knew deep inside that the time had come to discard Beau completely and focus on a lifetime with Lucas.

  I opened my eyes to see the vivid pinks and purples, red, and orange of the setting sun and sky.

  “Does everyone have their candles?” I asked.

  Heads nodded as the women retrieved them.

  I went around and lit each one before rejoining the circle and lighting my own.

  “Okay, it’s now time to read the verse that you’ve chosen and explain how it pertains to you and why you chose it.” I reached into the pocket of my long, gauzy skirt and removed a slip of paper. “I’ll go first,” I said, clearing my throat. “I chose a verse by one of the most influential writers of the French Renaissance, Michel de Montaigne. ‘If a man should importune me to give a reason why I loved him, I find it could no otherwise be expressed, than by making answer: because it was he, because it was I.’ ” I blew out a breath as my gaze locked with my aunt and then Chloe. “I’ve come to believe that certain people cross our path in life for different reasons. Some are meant to stay. Some are not. I have learned from both.”

  Aunt Maude nodded and smiled. “Indeed, Grace, indeed. Who would like to go next?”

  “I will,” Riley said. “I chose my verse, which is a Yiddish proverb, because ... well, because I believe it to be true. ‘About being oneself, if all pulled in one direction, the world would keel over.’ ”

  “How very true,” Dora said.

  “I agree,” Tara said. “My quote is from Ralph Waldo Emerson. ‘The age of a woman doesn’t mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles.’ ”

  Laughter filled the air. “I’ll second that,” my sister said.

  “And the reason I chose it ... is because I believe it. The best is yet to come, I always say.”

  “My feeling precisely,�
� Martha said. “My quote is from Jack London. ‘Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.’ I chose this quote because I also have found this to be very true and each day I try to play those cards the best that I can.”

  “Bravo,” her sister said. “It’s probably ironic that I chose a similar quote, but mine is from Emily Dickinson. ‘Find ecstasy in life, the mere sense of living is joy enough.’ The older I get, the more I find that life truly is a journey, not a destination, and I soak up each and every moment.”

  “As do I,” Dora said. “Which is the reason I chose my quote from Mohandas Gandhi. ‘Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.’ A life of balance is what I strive for.”

  “Well, my chosen quote is along the same lines,” Suellen said. “I fully believe the words, and that’s why I chose it. ‘Life is a song, sing it. Life is a game, play it. Life is a challenge, meet it. Life is a dream, realize it. Life is a sacrifice, offer it. Life is love, enjoy it.’ The quote is from an Indian guru who died in 1918. He taught a moral code of love, forgiveness, helping others, charity, and inner peace.”

  “I really like that quote,” Devon said. “My quote is from Walden because, like Riley, I’ve always believed this to be true. ‘If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.’ I think this quote is so popular because of the meaning.”

  “I agree with that,” Julia said. “And my quote is from Benjamin Franklin. ‘At twenty years of age, the will reigns; at thirty, the wit; at forty, the judgment.’ I chose this quote because I feel that life is a continual learning process and all of us keep growing and changing.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Chloe said. “Well, my quote is from Albert Schweitzer, and I think the reason I chose it will be obvious to Aunt Maude and Grace. ‘Sometimes our light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.’ ” Chloe paused to swipe at her eyes. “I owe deepest thanks to both my sister and my aunt ... so thank you.”