Lighthouse Beach

by Shelley Noble

  “Oh brother,” mumbled Diana, and slumped back on the seat.

  Jess peered out the window. “I can’t believe we’re here.”

  Allie said nothing, just looked forward as if she could see what none of the others could see. Lillo had been wondering what her story was ever since she’d sat down at the bistro this afternoon. Maybe she’d have the chance to find out.

  Except she was sending them on their way as soon as they had rested.

  She pulled the van to a stop in the large parking area in front of the keeper’s house and the jetty out to the lighthouse. To the right, behind a whitewashed fence, Lillo’s cottage was perched on a triangle of soil, wedged between the jetty and a rocky outcropping that almost separated her tiny patch of sandy beach from the public beach that gave the town its name.

  “We’re home,” she sang ironically. She had no idea where she was going to put them. What had she been thinking?

  Allie was the only one who seemed at all alert. She got out of the car and opened the back door. Diana yawned and climbed stiffly from the back seat.

  Jess followed her, but even more slowly. “Where are we? This isn’t your house.”

  “Yeah, it is. I tried to warn you. Mom and Dad sold the old house and the camp when I went to college.” Actually, they’d sold it so she could go to college, but she tried not to think of that. “I told you it was small. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

  “No. Just surprised. I can’t believe they’d sell.”

  Neither could Lillo, but they had, and by the time she found out, it was too late. Fortunately, the house and outbuildings had eventually ended up in the hands of the island’s veterinarian.

  Allie and Diana grabbed their luggage and followed Lillo through the gate and down the stone walk to her cottage. Jess brought up the rear, stumbling along with her suitcase wobbling on its wheels and the bag of toiletries dragging along the ground.

  Lillo unlocked the door and reached inside to flick on a light.

  Nothing happened.

  “Lights are out,” she said. “Happens a lot when we’re having weather. I’ll just get the lanterns.”

  They all pressed in behind her and stopped. They didn’t seem too anxious to further their acquaintance with her humble abode. Of course, they might be even more disconcerted once they could see it in the light.

  Lillo dropped her duffel bag and pushed them farther into the room, then she felt her way to the hallway closet, where she kept an array of auxiliary lighting and the odd towel and washcloth.

  She gathered two big lanterns and three smaller flashlights for her guests to use and took them out to the sitting room, where they were huddled in front of the large picture window, staring at the towering shadow that loomed in the semidarkness beyond.

  “Lighthouse Island,” Lillo explained. Deposited the lanterns on the wooden table where she ate, wrote, and worked numerous crossword puzzles, then handed out the flashlights.

  “Wow,” Allie murmured.

  “Well, it’s unique,” Diana said, and took a flashlight from Lillo. “Daunting, and not sleep inducing, but unique.”

  “It’s charming in the daylight.”

  “Shouldn’t its light be flashing or something?” asked Allie.

  “Please tell me you have light-blocking shades,” Diana added.

  Lillo gave Diana a look, but had to admit she was beginning to enjoy her dry take on absolutely everything.

  “The coast guard retired it years ago. Now it has a gift shop in the house next door and the light keeper runs tours to the top when the tide is out.”

  Allie turned to her, frowning. “What happens when the tide is in?”

  “The causeway is covered in water and the island becomes a true island.” Mac’s own private sanctuary. “You’ll probably meet the keeper tomorrow. Miriam Mackenzie. But everybody calls her Mac.”

  She returned to the closet and pulled out bed linens and as many decent towels as she could find and carried them to the two back bedrooms. Then she joined the others where they sat on the couch, flashlights beaming in no particular direction and looking like the ghoul family at the bus station.

  Lillo smothered a laugh. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have three bedrooms but one is being used for storage, so it’s off-limits. I figure Jess can have my room. It’s the one at the end of the hall.”

  “Oh no. I’ll be okay on the couch or anywhere.”

  Lillo gritted her teeth. “No, you won’t. You’ve had a rough day. And let’s face it, it’s not going to be all martinis and nachos for the next few weeks. So rest up while you can.”

  “Whoa,” Allie said under her breath.

  Diana smiled at Lillo. In the lantern light, she looked a little demonic.

  “You two can have the second bedroom. It has twin beds if you don’t mind sharing a room.”

  “I’m fine with that.” Allie looked at Diana.

  Diana shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

  “Only one bathroom, I’m afraid. And it’s small.”

  “We’ll make do,” Allie said on a yawn.

  “Jess, my bed actually has clean sheets, so why don’t you use the bathroom first and get to bed while I make up the other room … Jess?”

  “Okay.” Jess pushed off the couch with a grunt.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  Lillo frowned. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell tonight?”

  Jess shook her head. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” Allie and Diana said.

  Jess went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  The other three made up the beds in the second room by lantern light. When Lillo came out into the hall, the bathroom door was open and her bedroom door was closed.

  “Bathroom’s free,” she announced. She grabbed the last blanket out of the closet and walked past the third bedroom to the couch. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it was better than sleeping in the unused bedroom—if she could even find the bed beneath all that junk, that history—the detritus of her former life.

  She lay down, carefully avoiding the uncoiled spring that always managed to stab her in the back. She punched the throw pillow, pulled the blanket up to her neck, and stared out at the lighthouse as a string of golden light stretched across the dark horizon.

  God, she was tired. She stretched, yawned, and nestled into the soft cushions. The spring stabbed her in the back, and just as she fell into sleep, the lights came on.

  At least the porch light was on, Ned thought as he stowed the Harley under a cow bower at the side of Ian Lachlan’s house. Ian was the local vet—animal whisperer, horse boarder, family therapist, and special educator. They’d met at a peace rally, both just out of college on their way to vet and med schools, both out to make the world a better place. Their enthusiasm was matched only by their naïveté. Fifteen years later they had reconnected, both changed, but still friends. Ian was probably the only person in town besides Lillo who called him Ned.

  He climbed the steps, pulling off his helmet and rain poncho. He dropped them on the porch floor and opened the door. Ian never locked his door, which was strange considering the life he’d led.

  Ned suddenly felt bone-tired. A wet ride, running into Lillo, then depositing the two new guys with their hosts before finally calling it a day.

  “Perfect timing,” Ian said, coming down the stairs. “The lights have been out all night; they just came back on.”

  “Sorry I woke you. Just no way to silence a Harley.”

  Ian shrugged. “Wasn’t asleep.”

  Doc nodded. Physician, heal thyself. Easier said than done.

  Ned dropped his duffel. They shook hands and slapped each other’s back.

  “Want coffee? Or a bed?”

  Ned shrugged out of his leather jacket. “Bed. We didn’t mean to get here this late. We had to wait for one of the new guys, who got held up in traffic on I-95. Assam. You’ll like him. He can fix just about anything, from locks to air conditio
ners. Then the rain held us up.”

  “You better get some shut-eye. Time nor tide nor the residents of Lighthouse Beach wait for the beleaguered M.D. Bed’s made up. Even washed the sheets since the last time you were here.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that. Any dire cases I should know about?”

  “I haven’t heard anything. Anna McLennan is getting weaker. Her children came down last week, they were talking about hospice, but Ike held firm. Swears he can take care of her. Mac and Lillo help out where they can, but …”

  “Speaking of Lillo, I ran into her about ten miles out of town. She was driving Mac’s van with three other women. They’d had a flat tire. Said they were coming from a wedding.” He yawned.

  “She drove to Kennebunkport, some friend who went to camp here when they were kids. Which is odd enough. But the wedding isn’t until Saturday.”

  “Weird. I think she said she had the bride with her. But I was so tired by then”—and shocked at seeing Lillo—“I could have been mistaken.”

  “Bound to be a story there. You’ll find out the particulars in the morning, probably with your first patient. It took the whole town to get her on the road. I’ve never met a girl so stubborn and so … I don’t know.”

  Neither had Ned, but if he hadn’t figured it out in all the years he’d known her, he wouldn’t figure it out tonight. He would have a busy day tomorrow; for the rest of tonight he, unlike Ian, would sleep like a log.

  Between getting up to turn off the lights and turning over to avoid the rising sun, Lillo managed to get about four hours of sleep. It took her a few groggy minutes to remember she was home, had houseguests, didn’t have a thing to feed them, and that she was the only one awake.

  It wasn’t until she was on her feet that she realized all her wearable clothes were in the closet of her bedroom, where Jess was asleep. She didn’t want to wake her; she needed to talk to Mac first and figure out what to do. There were clothes in the third bedroom, but she wouldn’t wear them; she didn’t know why she kept them, as a reminder maybe. She crept into the bathroom, which was barely large enough for one much less three extra women, two of whom were surely used to the best. She wasn’t sure about Allie, but what she’d witnessed of her so far, she would most likely make do without much comment.

  She reached into the hamper and pulled out a pair of wrinkled khakis and a grease-smeared tee. They would have to do. After a quick splash of water on her face and hair, mainly to wake herself up, she went outside, quietly closing the door behind her.

  It was a sunny day. Sort of amazing when you considered how stormy it had been the night before. Everything looked intact. She hadn’t heard any wind during the wee hours, though she doubted if she would have heard a freight train outside her window in her exhausted few hours of sleep.

  She walked barefoot out to the sand and took a few minutes just to breathe in the sea air and relax to the expanse of the waves. Why had she ever left this place? The world was cruel, even weddings were cruel. The sea could be cruel but without malice. It was everything she needed.

  But at the moment she had three extra people asleep in her cottage, and she’d need to consult Mac on what to do with them. She backtracked and walked across the parking lot to the gift shop. It wouldn’t be open yet, but Mac lived in the back and would have a pot of coffee brewing.

  The flowers in the little bed along the front and side of the clapboard house were vibrant in the morning air. The peony blooms from the bushes that lined the walk had taken a beating in the rain and were so heavy that Lillo had to press against the fence to pass by. They’d have to be tied up again. Maybe this afternoon.

  The small square plot of land in back of the shingled house was crammed with vegetables and herbs. Originally laid out in neat squares but already overflowing into a tangle of promised bounty. Mac had a green thumb as well as a refined New England palate. Her lobster stew was famous.

  Lillo knocked on the paint-peeled back screen door. As always, it rattled with each touch. Mac’s “C’mon in” echoed from inside.

  Lillo brushed her feet off on the old lobster rope doormat and stepped onto the storage porch. The porch had been added on during the last century and the kitchen windows opened onto it. She could see Mac, short and muscular with a crop of gray hair, standing at the stove. She was talking to someone.

  Lillo hesitated. Clancy Farrow sometimes stayed with Mac when he was in town, and Lillo knew he was in town. She’d seen him last night. Maybe she should come back later, but if she waited she might not be able to talk to Mac alone.

  She stepped inside to the smell of fresh-ground coffee. Home.

  She was expecting Clancy, and wasn’t prepared for the shock or the irrational proprietary feeling that jolted through her when she saw Jess sitting at the kitchen table.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted.

  Jess cowered back against her chair. And Lillo backpedaled. “I mean … I thought you were still asleep. I didn’t hear you leave.”

  “I didn’t want to wake anyone. So I came over to say hello and see if I could beg Mac for a cup of coffee.”

  “I’m telling ya, ya coulda knocked me sideways when I opened the door to the runaway bride,” Mac said. “Had to tell me who she was. Woulda never recognized our little Jess in a million years.”

  “I guess she told you what happened.”

  “Between her and Clancy, I got a pretty good picture of what you gals have been up to. Let me see …” Mac looked up to the ceiling. “The shenanigans of the groom in the parking lot, the parental oppression, the flight from Kennebunkport, the flat tire, and the motorcycle gang. Sounds very exciting.”

  “Sounds like you need to get out more,” Lillo said.

  Jess hiccuped, groaned, and cradled her face with both hands. “Ouch.” She immediately sat up again.

  “Jess, your wrist,” Lillo said.

  “I’m all right,” Jess said, lowering her wrist to hide it underneath the table.

  “No, you’re not. It’s swollen and black and blue. Why didn’t you say something?”

  Jess just shrugged.

  Lillo didn’t need to ask. Some things never changed. Jess trying not to call attention to herself, trying to disappear. Maybe that’s what the not eating was about, attempting to physically disappear. Lord, what had Lillo gotten herself into?

  “I think,” Mac said, sliding a mug of coffee toward Lillo, “that you better—”

  “—take her over to the clinic and have it checked out,” Lillo finished for her. “They can rule out a break or possible hairline fracture.” Seeing Mac was about to comment, she hurried on. “Speaking of the clinic, where is Clancy? Isn’t he staying with you this trip?”

  “He’s been here and gone. Mary Alice Grotsky’s boy got an attack of appendicitis a little after dawn. Had to convince Mary Alice to call an ambulance to take him to the county hospital.” Mac shook her head. “She begged Clancy to do the surgery right then and there. Poor woman hasn’t had insurance since Ethan died. Can’t get Medicaid ’cause she owns a business and their own home—such as it is.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really,” Jess said. “Maybe you can just wrap an ACE bandage around it.”

  Sure she could, like an ACE bandage could solve all Jess’s problems. Could stop her from needing all the people she couldn’t depend on. It couldn’t. Not now, not all those years ago when Jess had hidden a broken rib from her counselors so she wouldn’t miss the hike around the lake. So she could prove that she could make it.

  She’d come to Lillo. They’d wrapped an ACE bandage around her then. She’d struggled to keep up. Everyone complained that she was taking too many rests, that she was holding them up. And she wouldn’t let Lillo tell.

  That hike ended in a trip to the hospital.

  So, no. An ACE bandage wouldn’t do.

  “Lillo?” Mac’s voice.

  “Huh?”

  “I said you can take her to the clinic after breakfast.” She turned to Jess. “Now sit
down and drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

  “Please, Mac. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  Mac crowed a laugh. “Trouble? You’re worried about being a trouble because of a sprained wrist when you just left the groom at the altar, three-hundred-some-odd guests holding empty champagne glasses, a gigantic hotel bill, and two irate parents? Honey, I’m nominating you for president of Cold Feet Anonymous.” She chuckled. “Ya gotta love her.”

  No. You didn’t. Unfortunately, Lillo thought, because under all that mucky, mushy, indecisive surface was a compassionate, loving human being who deserved love. But then again, life dished out shit indiscriminately, didn’t it?

  Jess struggled out of her seat. “It’s not too late to go back.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No, it is not,” Diana said, coming through the door, Allie on her heels. “Sorry, we would have knocked but the conversation was just too good not to interrupt.” She zeroed in on Jess. “Do you want to go back and marry that—James?”

  Allie reached across Diana and extended her hand to Mac. “I’m Allie Lusano; this is Diana Walters. We’re friends of Jess’s and Lillo’s.”

  “Mac Mackenzie.” They shook hands, Mac leaning over Lillo to reach across the table.

  “How did you find us?” Lillo asked.

  “Followed our noses to coffee,” Diana said. “Actually, I heard you leave and watched from the window. Figured you might be having a strategy meeting and we hustled over here to be part of it.”

  Allie nodded.

  “In the clear morning light—beautiful day, by the way—I realized that maybe we had been a tad too adamant last night, so I roused Allie and we came over to give Jess a chance to renege before it’s too late.”

  Lillo’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. They practically kidnapped Jess last night and now they were wigging out? “What the—”

  Across from her, Jess looked gobsmacked.

  “But I changed my mind on the walk over. I think we made the right decision, but I just want to make sure we didn’t strong-arm Jess against her better judgment.”

  “Now you think of that,” Lillo said.