Mac greeted them with a wave of her wooden spoon, but didn’t turn from the stove. “Have a seat. Lillo, there’s beer and wine in the fridge. Hope the wine passes your inspection, Allie.”
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Allie said, blushing slightly. “Actually, I think I’d rather have a beer,” she told Lillo. “Can I help you?”
“Nah. I’m the official drinks person. Mac will put you to work doing something.”
“That’s right,” Mac said over her shoulder. “Everyone falls into something before they get away.” She brandished the spoon again. “I hope you all like shellfish. Seems like these days people have all sorts of allergies and aversions. But don’t worry, there’s also chicken and vegetables and lots of homemade bread and crackers. Keep these men on their feet.”
“Men?” Lillo asked. “How many men are coming?”
“Just Clancy, Doc, and Ian. I’ll have a barbecue for the others on Sunday. Give ’em a chance to visit with their hosts. And give us a chance for a nice laid-back, intimate dinner.”
Lillo would have laughed if she hadn’t been jabbed by a needle of panic. Clancy she could handle even though he always gave her grief for whatever. Ian was having a rough time these days. He would probably just scowl through dinner and excuse himself as soon as the dishes were done. His job.
But Doc. That would be uncomfortable. Well, it was inevitable that this day would come. Except for that disastrous meeting when she’d first returned to Lighthouse Beach a year ago and last night, she had managed mostly to avoid him. At least tonight she would be well insulated by the others.
When Lillo returned with beers and a bottle of chardonnay, Diana was slicing a thick, crusty country loaf of bread; Allie was setting the table; and Jess was attempting to fold napkins with one hand.
Lillo opened a bottle of local brew and took it over to Mac. She lingered long enough to take a deep appreciative breath of the stew. “Smells wonderful.”
“Thank you. No fighting tonight.”
“You’ll get none from me.” She quickly kissed Mac’s weather-roughened cheek. “I’ll keep my mouth stuffed the whole time.”
Mac barked out a laugh. “Just see that you do.”
Lillo opened two more beers for Allie and herself and put Diana in charge of wine. They all sat down and were recounting the call from Jess’s father when the back door opened. Lillo had been anticipating it, but she started anyway.
Doc walked in cradling a bottle of wine in one arm.
He nodded. “Ladies.” He added his bottle to the one on the table. “Clancy not back yet?”
Mac, who was ladling stew into deep pottery bowls and handing them to Allie to place on the table, stopped. “Nope. Where’s Ian?”
“Couldn’t make it.” Doc shrugged.
Mac sighed. That was all that was said.
Doc glanced at Lillo but didn’t say hello or anything.
He did smile at Jess. “How’s the wrist?”
“Okay. Thanks. I think I owe you an apology.”
“Not at all.” He tried to suppress a grin. Lillo knew it was futile. He burst out laughing. “You could have bowled me over when the three of you walked into the office this morning.”
Had he put the emphasis on “three”? He didn’t look her way, but Lillo was pretty good at picking up what was unsaid. Especially from Doc Hartley.
They sat down at the table. The bread was passed and silence ensued while they all savored the first bites of the creamy rich stew.
“So, Mac, did they tell you about breaking down on the road last night?” Doc asked.
“Ayuh.”
“You’d better take the van over to Olsen’s first thing Monday and get a new tire or four. You can’t go driving all over creation with that spare. Then I’ll have Nando come over and check out the rest of the van when he gets a chance.”
Mac saluted and kept eating her stew.
“You were lucky you didn’t blow out on the highway,” he continued.
“We were,” Allie said. “And we can’t thank you enough for helping us.”
Doc smiled. “My pleasure.”
Really. He was so annoying. One minute he comes roaring into town like some hoodlum biker, and the next he’s talking like some effete lord from a PBS series.
“I don’t think I’ve seen Lillo in a dress since …”
Smug bastard. She looked straight at him. “First Communion?”
“Probably … It looked—”
“—better before I started changing the tire.”
“Probably that, too.” He went back to eating.
“You two have known each other a long time?” Diana asked.
“I lived here for several years when I was a teenager,” Doc said. “Lillo grew up here. Stay here for more than a day or two and the whole town will know you.”
Lillo couldn’t figure out if that was his way of telling Diana to mind her own business, or to let Lillo know he didn’t think any more of her than he did of the other three-hundred-plus residents. So she just kept eating.
The stew was delicious, as always. The bowls were cleared, the chicken served. The conversation grew lively with Mac giving her Reader’s Digest version of the history of the lighthouse and how she had become the keeper and how they had retired her and the lighthouse together. Glasses were refilled. More beers were opened.
But as the evening wore on, Lillo could tell that Mac was becoming more distracted. The pauses in her conversation while she listened … for the sound of Clancy’s motorcycle?
She and Clancy had been friends since childhood. They fought and laughed and supported each other when the chips were down. Lillo could tell she was worried.
When the phone finally rang, Mac practically jettisoned herself from her chair. She fumbled on the counter for her cell phone, snatched it up.
“Where are you?” she asked without even saying hello.
Conversation stopped and they all looked at Mac. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. He’s sitting right here.” She held up the phone. Doc stood, took the phone from her, and walked onto the back porch.
“Is Clancy all right?” Lillo asked.
“Oh yes. He had to take a patient into the hospital in Bristol. Mary Alice Grotsky’s boy. Mary Alice … well, you know how she is.”
Lillo nodded. Mary Alice was like just about everyone in the town. Kept her own counsel and would rather live in pain than go off island to the doctor’s.
“Stubborn woman. Clancy says they just got Ely’s appendix out in time. Might have ruptured while she was waiting for the docs to get here. He’s staying over until Mary Alice’s sister can come and stay with them.”
Mac looked directly at Lillo. “It could be another day, possibly two.”
Lillo looked away. She had good instincts and she wasn’t going there. She stood and began to clear the table.
Doc came back inside.
“Looks like you’re going to have another busy day at the clinic,” Mac said.
“Yeah, halfway through the day I had to have Agnes reschedule the least urgent.” He huffed out a sigh. “Until tomorrow.”
“Guess you could use some help—just a second pair of hands.”
Lillo didn’t turn around, just gathered the rest of the dishes.
She heard Doc say, “I could.” And Mac saying, “Lillo and Ned here used to help out at the clinic when they were kids.”
Lillo turned on the water and dropped a handful of silverware into the dish drain. The clatter didn’t drown out the interested murmurs of the others.
“Well, don’t you go running off until we’ve had dessert and I’ve packed up some food to take to Ian. Guess I better pack it all, since you won’t have time for lunch tomorrow.”
Allie deposited a stack of plates on the counter. Lillo glanced over her shoulder long enough to glare at Mac.
Ignoring her, Mac went to the fridge and pulled out a covered mixing bowl. “Fresh strawberries, first of the season. With my homemade shortbread and cream. Yo
u haven’t eaten until you’ve had Maine strawberries.”
Mac insisted on doing the rest of the dishes later and they all sat back down at the table. But the convivial mood seemed a bit strained. Or maybe it was just Lillo. She wanted to get back to her cottage, preferably alone. Why had she ever answered Jess’s cry for help?
They all left a few minutes later. Lillo hurried her houseguests, hoping to avoid Doc, who had stayed behind while Mac laded him down with bags of food.
“That was delicious,” Diana said. “I can hardly walk, I’m so full. How are you holding up, Jess?”
“Okay. I’ll probably have gained ten pounds tomorrow morning.”
“Well, you won’t know,” Lillo said. “’Cause I don’t have a scale.”
“Brilliant,” Diana said. “A no-holds-barred weekend.”
They’d almost made it to the path to the cottage when Doc called Lillo’s name. She considered ignoring him, but then she would have to explain to the others. She turned and met him halfway.
“I really could use some help tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“I don’t think your friends will mind if you leave them for a few hours for a good cause.”
“You know I don’t do that anymore.”
“You could if you’d—”
“Stop it. I know what you’re doing. I don’t need your pity, or your therapy, or your butting into my life.”
“Jeez, I just asked for some help, but forget it. I’m sure I can get Sada or Barbara or even old Mrs. Culhaney to pitch in for an hour or two.”
He turned abruptly and strode back across the lot to his bike.
Face burning, Lillo hurried toward the cottage. The others had gone ahead, but she wasn’t really surprised to find Diana waiting at the door.
“I guess I don’t want to ask what that was about?”
“Please don’t,” Lillo said, and scooted past her through the cottage door.
Allie and Jess were sitting on the couch deep in conversation when Lillo and Diana came inside. Lillo had been hoping they would all be ready for bed even though it was still early. She was pretty sure they would have questions about why she and Doc were arguing in the parking lot.
She considered walking past them to the bathroom, but she couldn’t stay there forever; they would all have to take a turn before they called it a night. Damn Doc for putting her in this position. She’d made it almost two days without having to talk too much about herself. She didn’t want to start tonight.
Diana had already sat down. Lillo plopped down in her reading chair and yawned.
It didn’t work.
“First of all,” Allie said, “are you sure you’re okay with us being here? You probably have things you have to do and if Doc Harley needs you to help out—”
“He doesn’t. And his name is Hartley.”
“I know, but all the kids’ drawings call him Doc Harley because of his motorcycle. I think it’s so cute.”
“Cute,” Lillo echoed.
“We couldn’t help but notice there was a little tension between the two of you at dinner,” Diana finished. “And even though none of us would be rude enough—even though we’re dying of curiosity—to ask what it was or why you were arguing in the parking lot, we do want to make sure we’re not cramping your style. I mean …”
“I have no style,” Lillo quipped, but it came out sounding more like the truth than a joke.
“Sure you do. But I meant if you and Doc Harley have a relationship and we’re in the way …”
“You should have said something,” Allie said.
“Me and Ned? Hardly.” Ned never gave her a break, but he certainly wasn’t interested in her that way. “We have a history but not a relationship.”
“Or anyone else? Is having us in your space a hardship?”
Lillo laughed. She could hardly call the occasional appearance of Derrick Quinn, an itinerant fisherman, a relationship.
“Well, is it?”
“It’s not a hardship for me. This is the way I live, but you guys—you’re used to nicer, bigger things. I’ll understand if you’d be more comfortable at a hotel somewhere.”
Diana threw up her hands. “I feel like we’ve already beaten this dead horse.”
“Several times,” Lillo agreed.
“Then let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of us staying, raise your hand.” Four hands went up, some faster than others.
“Carried,” Diana announced.
“There’s only one problem,” Allie said.
“What now?”
“I have a flight back to California first thing Monday morning.”
“How about asking your in-laws if they’d mind watching little Gino for another few days,” Diana said. “And we’ll make this a real girls’ week away. I’m sure you could use a break from the winery.”
“I don’t know.”
“When was the last time you took time for yourself?”
“I’ll see.” Allie took out her cell, hesitated. “I should try calling them in case they’ve heard what happened. They’ll be worried.” She looked at her cell screen. “Almost ten here, seven o’clock there. They’ll be getting Gino to bed. I’ll call them tomorrow morning.”
“And tell them you’re staying a few extra days?”
“I don’t know, I’ll have to see.”
“Good enough. I think I’ll make some tea. Anyone?” Diana stood. “Oh, sorry, Lillo. Do you mind if I make some tea?”
“Go for it,” Lillo said. “If you guys are going to stick around, you’ll have to fend for yourselves. I never quite got a handle on that hostessing thing.”
“Not a problem. I run my own corporation. Same thing without the doilies.”
Lillo laughed. “I guess we’ll have to do a full-fledged grocery run tomorrow.” And just like that, Lillo Gray had houseguests.
Mac turned from the window of the darkened gift shop. She’d dropped everything to spy on Lillo and Doc. It hadn’t gone well. She wasn’t surprised. Doc was approaching Lillo all wrong. And Lillo? Well, she’d been allowed to wallow in heartbreak and self-indulgence for too long. It was time to set a fire under that girl.
She rubbed her eyes, peered out into the darkness. She’d meant to go into Bristol last week, but things had gotten too busy. She didn’t relish going into the clinic there. But it was better than having to deal with Clancy or Ned at the local clinic.
She didn’t expect good news. Then again she didn’t expect bad news. She just didn’t want any news. She was getting old, but she sure as hell didn’t need to be told to slow down. She hardly did anything as it was.
And there was nothing more she could do tonight. Doc was gone, Lillo was inside her cottage. The lighthouse was a mere shadow in the night. No trespassers, no vandals, no pranksters, but there would be. Further into the season. Kids out of school with nothing to do but get into trouble. She’d be ready for them. But not tonight.
It was still early, but she was tired. Too old to hold watch night after night.
She groped her way across the darkened room, nearly knocked over the postcard stand when she miscalculated the turn into the T-shirt aisle. And definitely too old for skulking around in the dark. She stretched out her hand and reached toward the kitchen’s beckoning light.
Chapter 8
It seemed to Mac that it had just been minutes since she’d closed the curtains on the night and yet here she was opening them again. Beyond the kitchen window, the sun was just coming over the rooftops of Lighthouse Beach. It was going to be another bright day. Good. Summer was a time for sunshine, for days warm enough to sit out on the sand, not that she did much of that. Maybe the good weather would bring a few visitors. She hoped it held. There was always plenty of winter for storm clouds.
She went to the pantry and turned on the light. She was stocked. She had everything for Sunday’s barbecue and then some. She wasn’t sure if Lillo’s friends would actually stay or if Lillo would open up to them.
Whether they would want to fend for themselves or let Mac feed them a few times while they were here.
She missed those days when stray fishermen, lonely wives, boaters who suddenly needed a port in a storm would stop in for a chat, or to dry in front of the fire, or just sit over a cup of coffee and a hastily prepared meal. No one much came anymore. Not so many fishermen left. Most had moved away, taking their families with them. The lighthouse no longer warned ships of the nearby shoals.
There was barely any traffic in the gift shop and it seemed like no one wanted to climb the stairs of the lighthouse to look at the old Fresnel-type lights that no longer worked.
The world was at their fingertips without ever leaving their computer screens. They could visit any number of lighthouses, have a guided tour, even ask their questions of some unseen face, whether real or robot, at the other end of the chat box.
What was that doing to the new generation? Weren’t they lonely? Mac knew she was. And all the Internet in the world hadn’t made her feel any different.
She turned on the light above the counter, got out the coffee, and made a full pot. She always did, even though most days she ended up pouring half of it out. She didn’t mind. Better to be prepared.
The coffeemaker had just beeped when she heard the knock at the screen door. It wouldn’t be Clancy. In the fifty years she’d know him, he’d never knocked even when she was entertaining—especially when she was entertaining.
They were best friends. For fifty-some-odd years. They’d married other people, both of whom were now dead. She still worried about him.
“Come in. Coffee’s made,” she called.
The door opened.
“Ah, up early again?”
“Yes,” Jess said. “I didn’t want to wake the others. Just tell me if I’m being a nuisance.”
“Not at all. I don’t get nearly enough company these days. Have a seat.”
Lighthouse Beach Page 10
