Janie turned away and joined Marley in the living room, where she was absently flipping through the TV channels.
“I don’t have cable at my beach house,” Marley said as she set the remote down. “Not that I miss it, but sometimes I’m curious.”
“I’ve felt a little culturally isolated here too,” Janie admitted. “Not with TV so much, although I don’t have cable either. But Clifden is a very small town.”
“Speaking of small towns, the police are still out there waiting.” Marley nodded toward the front window.
“I guess it’s time for some legal consultation,” Janie told her. “Care to join me?”
“Only as a witness.” Marley followed Janie out, standing by her side as Janie politely inquired as to why Officer Steve had followed them.
“I realize Mrs. McCann could be charged with indecent exposure, breaking and entering, and eluding the police,” Janie continued, “but did Caroline break any laws?”
“No, Caroline is okay,” he admitted. “I just need to fill out my report.”
“What is it you need to know?” Janie asked.
He read off some routine questions, which Janie attempted to answer. As for the ones she couldn’t answer, she promised “as the McCanns’ attorney” to get back to him as soon as possible. “Because Caroline’s got her hands full taking care of her mother right now.”
“My biggest concern is for the safety of Caroline’s mother,” Steve said. “She could’ve gotten hurt or even killed today.”
“As you can see”—Janie shifted gears, using a tone reserved for convincing the jury of her case—“this is a very complicated situation. We all know that Caroline is doing her best to care for her mother, but Alzheimer’s is one of those difficult illnesses that makes it challenging to determine exactly which course is best, and when it’s best. Mrs. McCann is determined to remain in her home, and Caroline is trying very hard to accommodate her wishes. I think we should respect that.” She looked him in the eye now, hoping that he’d take the hint, finish his report, and be on his way.
“I understand that,” he said with what seemed genuine compassion. “And this is why I’ve requested an evaluation from senior social services.”
“I believe Caroline has already tried that,” Janie explained. “Her mother would not cooperate.”
“So you see that Mrs. McCann can’t make these decisions for herself, and that she could get hurt. And that’s why she’ll probably need to be placed in a more secure situation.”
“Meaning a lockdown?”
He gave her a noncommittal shrug. “It’s not up to me to decide.”
She nodded. “Yes. I understand. I’ll inform Caroline of your concerns, although I’m sure they’ll be of no surprise.”
He closed his notebook and smiled. “So is Caroline just here to visit awhile, or did she move back for good?”
“She’s moved back to help with her mother. As far as I know, she has no plans to return to California.” Janie smiled back at him. It seemed obvious that he was interested in more than Mrs. McCann’s safety. Janie noted that Officer Steve wasn’t wearing a wedding band. She considered telling him that Caroline already had one guy interested in her, but then decided it wasn’t her business.
He glanced over at the house. “Well, tell Caroline that I hope to see more of her, then. And if she has any questions about any of this, tell her to feel free to call.”
Janie nodded. “I’ll do that.”
Then Steve and his partner got back into their car.
“Can you believe that?” Marley nudged Janie with her elbow as the two of them watched the cruiser slowly drive away. “That cop is interested in Caroline.”
“Why should that surprise you?” Janie chuckled. “We all know that when it comes to men, Caroline is like honey to flies. And maybe Officer Steve will think twice about locking her mom up today. It’s not like Caroline needs that right now.”
“But she does need help with her mom,” Marley said quietly.
Janie sighed. “I think you’re right.”
Chapter 3
Marley
“I’m going to walk back into town to get my car,” Marley told Janie after they’d waited outside for a while. “Want to say bye to Caroline and Abby for me?”
“I think I’ll join you,” Janie told her. “But I’ll run in and tell them first.”
Marley glanced at her watch and sighed. Already it was nearly two, and she hadn’t painted a single brush stroke yet. At this rate, she’d never get that painting done in time for the First Saturday Art Walk in October. It had been Marley’s idea to start a monthly event like this in their town. Jack, owner of the One-Legged Seagull, had eagerly gotten on board, and the other galleries happily followed suit. This would be the first event, and everyone in town seemed enthused.
Jack wanted to feature Marley’s paintings as the focal point of his gallery. But since her paintings had already been hanging a couple of weeks, his idea was for her to have a new painting to be a centerpiece. “A reason to buy new ad space in the Clifden Weekly News,” he’d told her last week. Now she worried that Jack might be wasting his money on her.
“You look a little bummed,” Janie told Marley as she came back out of the house.
Marley forced a smile. “Just thinking.”
“Oh.” The two of them started walking. “Having any regrets about relocating back here?” Janie asked.
Marley shook her head. “Not at all. I love it. And my beach bungalow is coming right along.”
“How’s the painting coming?”
“You mean on the canvas or on the walls?” Marley pointed to Janie’s speckled overalls and grinned. “Looks like you were painting too.”
“Yes. The last bedroom.” Janie held up a hand, showing Marley a patch of pale blue. “Ocean Glass Blue.”
“Pretty.” Marley nodded. “Peaceful.”
“It’s going to be my bedroom,” Janie told her. “All blue and white and very French.”
“Sounds lovely.” As they strolled down Second Street, Marley could imagine the room with beautiful furnishings, layers of fine French bedding, exquisite paintings (originals, of course), and expensive area carpets. Because Janie, unlike Marley, seemed to have unlimited funds when it came to redoing her house. And while Marley tried not to be envious, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge now and then. It seemed that only the best was good enough for Janie. But that was probably the result of living in Manhattan for years and marrying into a very wealthy family.
Still, to be fair, Marley knew that Janie’s life wasn’t picture perfect. Not only had she lost the love of her life—her husband of twenty-six years—but her daughter had been battling a serious drug addiction as well. No, Marley wasn’t naive. She knew that even the prettiest packages sometimes had dirt inside. Not that she considered Janie’s troubles dirty—just troubles. They all had them.
“So how is the painting coming?” Janie persisted. “I mean on the canvas, not the walls.”
Marley let out a groan.
“Oh.” Janie nodded. “Is there such a thing as painter’s block?”
“I think that’s what I’ve got,” Marley admitted. “I look at that blank canvas, and I just freeze up. I’m certain I can never paint anything as good as what I’ve already done. It’s like there’s no creativity left in me.” She shook her head. “So I distract myself with working on my bungalow instead.”
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I found this really great deal on ceramic tiles on Craigslist,” Marley began. “A small business was liquidating, and I got boxes and boxes of all these fantastic bright colors—kind of tropical-looking, you know. Lime, coral, turquoise, mango—they’re so much fun. And I’m getting pretty good at putting them up, too.”
“Maybe I sh
ould hire you to come do some tile work at my house,” Janie suggested as they entered the wharf parking lot. “There’s quite a bit to do, and the plumber is starting to complain.”
“Sure.” Marley nodded. “I could probably do that.” Of course, even as she said this, she wasn’t sure. Janie was probably a real perfectionist, and Marley’s tile-laying skills were still a bit rustic.
“I won’t be doing anything as lively as your bungalow,” Janie continued as they crossed the lot toward their cars. “I’ve got some marble tiles for the bathrooms, and I really like the look of tinted glass tiles. But I wonder if they’re hard to install since they’re kind of clear.”
“I’ve got some glass tiles mixed in with the ceramic ones, and I’ve put them up in the exact same way.” Marley laughed. “Okay, I’m not sure if it was the right way. But I like the effect.”
“That’s what counts.” Janie stopped by her car. It was a late-model silver Mercedes that she’d had shipped from the east. At first she’d been apologetic about it to her friends, as if embarrassed by her wealth. But she explained that the car had been her late husband’s and still had some sentimental value.
“You should come see my bungalow sometime,” Marley told Janie. “Check out my tile work and see if it would be good enough for you. Keep in mind, I’m still just learning.”
“I’d love to see it.” Janie pulled out her keys.
“Hey, have you had lunch yet?” Marley asked.
Janie laughed. “Not hardly. I was in the midst of painting a wall when Caroline’s call for help came.”
“How about if I grab us some salads or whatnot at the deli, and you can come out to my place for lunch and check it out?”
“That sounds like fun. If you don’t mind, I’ll swing by my place and clean up some paint things first. I took off in such a hurry that I know I left a mess behind.”
“Perfect.” Marley waved and got into her economy car, reminding herself that it got great gas mileage, and drove over to the deli. She selected one carton of turkey-and-apple salad and one of broccoli, cheese, and bacon, along with several garlic bread sticks and an oversized double-chocolate brownie to share. Then she drove straight home and quickly put her house in order. Sure, maybe it was small, but it was also charming. At least she thought so. Sure, it still needed work, but she’d already painted the kitchen cabinets white and replaced the hardware with a bright selection of mismatched ceramic knobs that she’d gotten online. And her colorful tile backsplash and countertops really livened the place up. All in all, it was warm and friendly and fun.
She put the salads and things into serving dishes and set out her Fiestaware plates and Mexican glasses, along with some colorful cloth napkins. She pulled out her bottle-green margarita pitcher, which she filled with water, ice, and sliced lemons. Maybe she would have all her friends over here some evening and whip up a batch of margaritas, but for now this would do. Then she opened the back door to the beach and did a quick cleanup of her deck, chairs, and tables. She was just setting the water and glasses out there when she heard Janie calling.
“Anybody home?”
Marley went back into the house to greet her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” she said, glancing around the small space self-consciously. Although Janie’s house was probably only three times this size, Marley knew that once it was finished, it would be much more sophisticated.
“Oh, Marley,” Janie exclaimed. “This is looking fantastic. You’ve done so much in such a short time. I love it.” Janie was in the kitchen now, running her hand over the carnival of tiles. “So cheerful and fun.” She smiled at Marley. “Like you.”
Marley frowned. “I’m cheerful and fun?”
“Of course.”
Marley just shook her head. “Man, you could’ve fooled me.”
Janie laughed. “You are. I always think of you as the free spirit. The hippie girl in high school. Isn’t that how you see yourself?”
Marley smiled. “I guess I’m trying to find that girl again. And I have to admit, not being able to finish that painting …” She nodded over to the canvas by the south window and sighed. “Well, it’s getting me down.”
Janie went over to look at the barely begun seascape and, placing her hand under her chin, slowly nodded. “This is a bit different from your other work, isn’t it?”
Marley joined her and peered at the painting. “Yeah. I think that’s the problem. It’s like I’m lost, like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
“I love the colors you’re using.”
“Really? I thought maybe I’d gotten off on the wrong palette.”
“They look like real beach colors to me, like the ocean right outside your back door.”
Marley nodded. “That’s true. But I don’t usually do realistic paintings. I’m more into Impressionism. Maybe I should just chuck this and start an Impressionistic seascape. Or skip doing a seascape at all. It’s not like you have to paint the ocean just because you live by it, right?”
“Maybe you should paint whatever ignites your creativity.”
Marley cocked her head to one side, as though looking at her painting from a different angle might help somehow. “Unless I don’t have any more creativity.” She sighed. “What if I used it all up?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” Janie pressed her lips together. “I think creativity is like any other kind of energy. You use it, and then you refill it.”
“I wonder how I can refill it.”
Janie looked around the small space as if searching for a clue. “You know what, Marley?”
“What?”
Janie laughed. “I think you’ve been pouring all your creative energy into this little bungalow.” She pointed to the arrangement of the couch and chairs, the Mexican blanket draped over the couch, the pillows that Marley had recovered from some old batik fabric she’d held onto for decades, the arrangement of sculptures and colorful candles on the mantel. “This little beach house is like your latest masterpiece.”
Marley couldn’t help but smile now. “You know … you could be right.”
“Seriously, Marley, if you took some good photos of this place, I’ll bet some magazine would use them. It’s a real work of art.”
“Well, thank you.” Marley felt herself beaming now. “I’m glad I invited you over for lunch. Speaking of that, it’s all set up.”
“About this painting …” Janie was back in front of the easel.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t really plan to scrap it, do you?”
Marley shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I can kind of imagine how it might turn out.”
“Because if you finish it, and if it turns out okay … well, I think I’d be interested in purchasing it for my house.”
“Are you serious?” Marley blinked.
“I think so.” Janie nodded. “I love the colors you’re working with. That sand and beach grass is so peaceful. I think it would go nicely in my house. Maybe in the dining room.”
“Really?” Marley felt hopeful.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” Janie said quickly. “I mean, if you get inspired to do an Impressionist painting instead, I don’t want to make you feel like you’re committed to finishing something your heart’s not into.”
Marley considered this. Maybe her heart could get into a painting with a customer attached to it. Not that she wanted to admit this much to anyone. But the truth be told, finances were an issue for her. And painting, or even laying tile, for money was not below her standards at this stage of the game.
“I’ll tell you what,” she began carefully. “I’ll keep you in mind as I work on the painting, and if it keeps going, then I’ll keep going too. But even if I do finish it, I won’t hold you to purchasing it. It’s not like I consider this a commissioned piece.”
> Janie smiled. “With that said, you have to agree to let me have first right of refusal, okay?”
Marley stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal.”
They loaded their plates with food and went out to the deck. More fog was starting to roll in, but the combination of sun and mist created a lovely kind of fairy-dust light. “Now if only I knew how to capture this,” Marley said as they sat down on the brightly colored Adirondack chairs. “Maybe in time I’ll figure it out.”
“It’s so lovely here,” Janie said almost reverently. “So peaceful … serene.”
“It’s a great place to rejuvenate.”
“I can imagine.” Janie sighed and leaned back. “I’d think in time it would fill up those creative juices and you wouldn’t be able to do anything but paint.”
“But I think you’re right about me using my creativity on my house. It really did become my canvas. No wonder I can’t paint.” She pointed to a flock of tiny seabirds flying together in unison like a magic carpet. “I wish I could paint something like that,” she said wistfully. “Maybe I should start by trying to photograph it first.”
“You were so lucky to find this place, Marley.”
“That’s kind of what I thought too. Although some people who shall go unmentioned disagreed.”
“You mean Paul?” Janie chuckled. “Well, Abby said it was only because he thought he’d end up being your handyman.”
Marley stuck her nose up. “That has not been the situation. I would have to be very hard up to beg Paul to come over and help me.”
“You don’t like Paul, do you?”
Marley considered this. She hated to admit she couldn’t stand one of her best friends’ husbands—although Abby was the only one of them who still had a husband—but it was true. She almost thoroughly despised the man. “I think he reminds me a bit of my ex.”
Hometown Ties Page 3
