by Carol Henry
“Bah. What do the doctors know? People wake up from comas all the time. Besides, I do not want to lose my son—he’s all I have left in the world.”
“I know this is hard on you, especially after Hunt’s death. But Sebastian is my husband, and seeing him laying here like this isn’t any easier for me.”
Her words had little impact on Eugenia’s emotional state at the moment. She wasn’t about to remind her mother-in-law that she had a granddaughter—Makenzie. The distraught woman still grieved over losing her own husband. Hunt McClintock’s sudden heart attack at age fifty-nine had shocked the entire community of Lobster Cove. McClintock and McClintock Lobster Company employed the majority of the fishermen in town. He was well liked and treated his employees well. With his son near death, the status of the company was uncertain. If Sebastian should die, who would assume control?
“You have no idea what I am going through,” Eugenia huffed, her hands on her hips, her head thrown back, and her hazel eyes as glacial as winter ice on the edges of Frenchman Bay.
Juelle took a deep breath.
“Eugenia. I don’t want to argue with you in front of Sebastian—whether he can hear us or not. I’m sure if he does snap out of his coma he wouldn’t want it to be because of our raised voices.” She inched her way to the door. “I have to pick up Makenzie—Katelyn has to be at Mariner’s by six for the evening shift. I’ll leave you to be with your son.”
“Don’t forget we have a historical society meeting at seven tonight.”
How could she forget? Eugenia had it marked on all three calendars, posted sticky notes next to the phone in the hall and on the refrigerator. The woman was an organizational wizard and kept all her community functions straight. But with everything Juelle had been through, she planned on skipping tonight’s meeting, which was sure to put another nail in her coffin if Eugenia had anything to do with it.
The late afternoon sun shifted over the western border of Mount Desert Island, leaving Lobster Cove in shadow. The cool breeze off Frenchman Bay tossed Juelle’s shoulder-length hair about as she pulled her lime-green VW Beetle into the drive in front of Katelyn’s cottage. Sebastian had wanted her to buy a sportier car, something more showy and in line with their status in the community, but she refused. She wanted a small, dependable vehicle—something down to earth. She got out, pocketed her keys, and made her way up the sidewalk to pick up Makenzie. Katelyn’s small cottage was tucked into a stand of Aspen and Birch on the edge of town, closer to Bar Harbor. The side street jutted off Main Street, and although there were other cottages nearby, Katelyn’s had the advantage of being the last one on the block. An assorted color of lupines lined the front of the house. She would give anything to live in one of these cottages, no matter how small. Just to be able to leave her mother-in-law’s home would be a godsend.
Before Juelle could knock, her best friend, Katelyn, opened the screen door. A tall blonde, with sexy hazel eyes and a model’s body, her friend greeted her with Makenzie in her arms. Makenzie clapped her hands and held them out for Juelle, a wide toothless smile on her chubby cheeks. Juelle took her daughter in her arms. Her baby snuggled, tucked her head in Juelle’s neck, and hummed. Her heart melted. She kissed her daughter on the forehead, hugged her again, and then followed Katelyn inside.
“You didn’t have to rush to pick up this precious girl. We were having such a great time—weren’t we, sweetie? We were just about to finish our tea party. You can join us.”
Makenzie gurgled and clapped her hands, again.
“Are you sure? Don’t you have to be at your parent’s diner at six? I don’t want to hold you up.” Katelyn’s parents, Roark and Dawn Sullivan, had owned Mariner’s Fish Fry, located on the northern end of the harbor, for over twenty years.
“The good thing about working for my parents is, a start time is when I get there. They aren’t going anywhere in a hurry tonight—they don’t want to miss out on the evening crowd—all their regulars will be rolling in for tonight’s lobster roll special.”
Katelyn led them into a small room off the sitting room. A small children’s table was set for tea with a pink Disney tea set—all the princesses depicted on each diminutive tea cup, saucer, tea pot, and sugar and creamer—every little girl’s dream.
“Have a seat. I’m afraid your knees might hit your chin, but Makenzie fits just right in these chairs, don’t you, darling?”
Makenzie smiled and clapped her hands.
“This is so adorable. Where did you find this?”
“It was mine when I was a little girl.”
“Aren’t you afraid Makenzie will break something?”
“If you look close enough, you’ll see the cup handles have already been glued back on a couple of times. Not to worry, I have plenty of glue in the cupboard if I need it.”
Juelle settled her daughter in the chair beside her, while Katelyn poured tea for the three of them. Three small peanut butter cookies were displayed in another princess dish in the center of the table. Makenzie helped herself. Juelle smiled. Katelyn passed the cream and sugar.
“I can’t thank you enough for babysitting Makenzie and not plunking her in front of a television. It’s encouraging to have someone spend time with her while I can’t.”
“You know I love having her. She’s a darling baby, and so well behaved. You’ve done a wonderful job raising her.”
“She’s a joy. Despite what’s going on between Sebastian and me, Makenzie is a comfort—she keeps me going—literally.”
The two of them laughed and Makenzie joined in, as if she understood what they were talking about.
“So, how was Sebastian today? Any change?” Katelyn lifted her tiny cup and sipped.
“No,” Juelle sighed. “I’m worried, though. The doctors aren’t holding out much hope.”
“What about Eugenia? How is she doing?”
“Eugenia doesn’t change. She’s just as difficult as ever. I know it’s her son, and she’s still grieving for her husband, which she has no problem reminding me at every turn. But I am so tired of trying to appease her every time I turn around. And I’m not ecstatic over the possibility of losing my husband regardless of our problems.”
“According to my mother, Eugenia’s had a hard life. Coming from a poor immigrant family, she was raised by foster families and didn’t have much of an advantage growing up. Her father worked as a fisherman for the McClintock’s—it’s how she met Hunt. Guess she didn’t know how to handle falling head over heels into wealth.”
“An understatement. The woman never lets anyone forget she has money. It’s obvious the way she throws it around and makes a big deal over it. At least it all goes to worthy causes—I’ve got to give her that.”
They both paused to sip tea, fawn over Makenzie, who was having a hard time keeping tea from spilling down the front of her lavender sundress. Thankful Katelyn had covered her daughter with a full-length cloth bib—her dress was safe from stains. Makenzie kicked her legs and giggled, then plunked the cup back on the table. Juelle cringed, lifted it up for inspection, hoping it hadn’t cracked.
“She’s fine.” Katelyn smiled and waved her hand. “Relax. You’re wound too tight. Why don’t you join us at Mariner’s tonight? Bring Makenzie along and have dinner with the family. They’d be glad to see you.”
“I can’t. Eugenia reminded me we have a historical society meeting at seven. Heaven forbid if I’m late. Although I am tempted to stay home tonight.”
“You can miss one meeting.”
Juelle considered the consequences. “I’d better not. Eugenia is going through a lot right now. I don’t want to give her anything more to get upset over. Maybe another time.”
“The meeting isn’t until seven—you can at least come have a lobster roll before you go. It’ll do you good to get out and about besides spending all your time at the hospital. I won’t take no for an answer. Let’s clean up this little lady and get ready. I’ll clear up this tea mess later.”
*
***
Hunter pulled his black Kia rental into Frenchman Bay Motel’s parking lot lined with trimmed boxwood. The motel was a long, two-story white establishment with Kelly-green shutters, situated on a knoll overlooking the harbor. A wide porch circled the building with doors and windows for easy access to the individual rooms from the outside. A single Adirondack chair sat on either side of each door. According to the Web, the motel had been in the family for two generations, and once housed the rich and famous. The French family had turned it into a motel to accommodate the overflow of visitors to the island, Acadia National Park, and Bar Harbor. He turned off his GPS, retrieved his single luggage from the back seat, and then climbed the four carpeted steps to the entrance. Once inside, the homey, cozy ambiance of the motel was a welcome sight. Not as open as the hotels and smaller touristy establishments in Oahu, but friendly and comfortable looking.
“May I help you?” a teenage girl, about five feet even, with a long ponytail sitting behind the desk inquired. A table to the right offered coffee, an iced drink of some sort, and a platter of cookies. Just to the side was an assortment of travel brochures.
“Yes, please. McClintock. Hunter McClintock. I have a reservation.”
“Oh my! McClintock? Are you related to the McClintocks who own the lobster company here in Lobster Cove?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want to cause a stir in this small community, and he wasn’t going to be here long. He hesitated, dug through his wallet for his credit card, and handed it over the counter, dodging the question.
“I’m just in from Oahu, thinking about checking out the island. I hear Acadia National Park is well worth the visit.”
“Well, now, you’ve traveled a long way just to visit the park. But you’ll love it. All the visitors do. And there is so much to see and do here in Lobster Cove. Not sure how long you’re going to be here, but next weekend is Father’s Day. The Oil and Water Art Festival showcases Maine’s art and artists. It takes place in the park next to the harbor.”
How ironic that he should arrive in Lobster Cove in time for an event highlighting Father’s Day—a day he’d ignored most of his life. When he was younger, he’d envied the other kids talking about their fathers and the special things they did together. Later, it had become just another day of the year. He’d spend his Sunday surfing with his friends, or hiking alone along Waimea Canyon. And now, to be here over Father’s Day for the reading of his father’s will, a father he never knew, well shit, it brought a lump to his throat all over again. The timing couldn’t be worse.
“Of course many people start out visiting Bar Harbor,” the receptionist was saying.
He smiled and hoped she hadn’t noticed his rudeness. Apparently not—she continued.
“But to come all this way and leave Hawaii behind? Hawaii is the most romantic place on earth. I’m hoping to visit there someday.”
The young girl almost swooned when she said it. Hunter smiled and shook his head. The Hawaiian Islands did have a reputation for having a romantic effect on the majority of the people from the mainland. He’d seen it a million times as he’d guided tours on the various islands back home. He didn’t blame them. No matter which island he visited, it was sheer paradise. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Including Lobster Cove, Maine.
“You’ll have to visit someday. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
“I sure hope so. Here you go, Mr. McClintock.” She handed him a small packet across the counter. “Room eight, down at the end. You’ll have more privacy there and be closer to the harbor sights. Breakfast is early here—six until nine-thirty. I’m Gigi. My parents Jolie and Russ French own the motel. Let one of us know if you need anything. If no one is at the desk, just ring the bell.” She pointed to an old-fashioned, servant-type silver bell.
“Can you recommend a good place to have a bite to eat tonight?”
“The best place around for a fresh lobster dinner and homemade blueberry pie is at Mariner’s Fish Fry just down the road and around the corner on the opposite side of the bay. Can’t miss it. It’s on the harbor. Roark and Dawn Sullivan own it. Best lobster rolls and blueberry muffins in town, too.”
“Thanks. Appreciate your help.”
Hunter pocketed the key card, grabbed his luggage, and then headed down the veranda to his room. He inserted the card into the door lock and entered the darkened room. He placed his travel bag on the small easy chair next to the table and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was firm, the bedspread crisp, and the scent of fresh balsam filled the room. He took out his cell phone and called his mother to let her know he’d arrived in Lobster Cove. He looked around the room while he waited for her to pick up. At the far end was an alcove with a dressing table and sink, to the left was a door, which led into a bathroom complete with a walk-in shower.
His mother’s phone clicked to the answering machine—he left a brief message to let her know he’d arrived without a hitch. He’d contact her later, after he’d met with the lawyer. He then dialed the number for Jordan and Jordan, Attorneys at Law, to set up an appointment. The sooner he got this over with, the better.
****
Juelle pulled into the side of Mariner’s Fish Fry parking lot and parked the car in the one remaining spot out front. The Sullivan family had owned the establishment from the beginning of time and was a popular place. Many of the fishermen who worked at McClintock’s frequented the place. It was more than a local dive—it was a well-established restaurant despite the name of the business.
Juelle lifted the entire car seat, with Makenzie in it, out of the car, flicked the handle into position turning it into a carry seat, and made her way to the restaurant. To the left of the blue and white building was a short, squatty lighthouse with a deck circling the second floor. The light in the top still functioned, although it was more for show than to warn ships approaching shore. The real lighthouse was on the other side of the harbor. The main diner’s elongated portion stretched out toward the road, sported a peaked roof, and displayed an assortment of colorful hanging licensed lobster buoys along the roof’s edge for decoration. Old wooden lobster traps and nets were stacked against the building, giving it a definite working harbor flavor. The entrance’s green canopy was emblazoned with a large red lobster and the name of the diner in white underneath.
Katelyn met her at the front steps, and the three entered the diner together. Katelyn’s mother greeted them as she rushed past, carrying a large platter with a fresh steamed lobster, corn on the cob, and an impressive portion of coleslaw on the side.
“Hi, Juelle. I see you have your darling girl with you today. Give me a minute, and I’ll be right with you. Go find a seat while I deliver this dinner.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Sullivan. I’ll go sit out back on the deck.”
“I’m heading there now. Pick up a menu on your way out.”
“I’m going to have dinner with Juelle, if you don’t mind, Mom. Then I’m all yours for the rest of the night.”
Mrs. Sullivan, nodded, paused, and made her way out to the deck overlooking the bay. The scent of fresh seafood filled the room as they followed Katelyn’s mother out back. Juelle’s stomach growled, the little sip of tea with Makenzie and Katelyn a short while ago hadn’t satisfied her hunger. She’d spent most of the day at the hospital. Lunch had been a long time gone, and coffee was no substitute, the caffeine only aggravating the hunger pangs churning around in her stomach.
Once settled at one of the many picnic tables lining the back deck, Juelle set the carry seat on the table top, and took a moment to look out over the harbor and the bay beyond. She never grew tired of the seaside harbor view with the lobster and fishing boats tied up at the piers, the private yachts and sailboats coming and going. This time of night, with a few lights sparkling off the water, and the lights from around the deck glittering, a warm, romantic feeling tugged her heartstrings. She sighed, wishing she and Sebastian would be able to regain that special feeling they shared when th
ey’d first met.
“What are you up for tonight?” Katelyn opened the menu and started reading down the list. “Scallops are great, if I do say so myself. Claude said the men managed to catch some good looking specimens late this afternoon.”
“I think I’ll go with just a lobster roll. Easier to eat while I feed Makenzie.”
“They are delicious—sweet and filling. Sit and relax. I’ll go put in our order.”
After Katelyn went inside, Juelle sighed, and then scanned the back deck as the evening crowd gathered. The man to the left, three tables down where Mrs. Sullivan had delivered the lobster meal, looked familiar. She couldn’t place him and was still trying to figure it out when her friend returned.
“Good-looking, isn’t he? Mom said he was new in town. He’s staying at the Frenchman Bay Motel. Here, I got us a soda and a juice cup for Makenzie while we wait for our meal.” She joined Juelle on the opposite side of the table and looked down past the row of tables already filling up for the night.
“He does look familiar, but I can’t place him.”
“Love the tan and the dark hair. Looks like he works out. Wonder where he’s from? Mom says the place is buzzing trying to figure it out.”
“Really, Katelyn? You’re engaged to Sven, remember? I’m sure this guy is just a tourist.”
“Almost engaged. Doesn’t mean I can’t look. Anyway, I want to know when you plan to vacate that rattle-trap of an estate and get a place of your own. It must be hard living alone with Eugenia while Sebastian is in the hospital. I don’t mean to be insensitive, Juelle, but it’s been two years.”
“I was positive I had Sebastian talked into moving out, but then Makenzie was born, and then his father died, and poor Eugenia is having a hard time dealing with everything. I couldn’t pack up and leave while she’s under such stress. And now…, well…, if Sebastian doesn’t make it…” Juelle bit her bottom lip, took a deep breath, and continued. “How can I take Makenzie away from her?”
