Lighthouse Beach

by Shelley Noble

  The girl was supposed to have left today. Her flight was from Boston. Getting there would be a logistical nightmare. Maine was a wonderful place; it just wasn’t that easy to get to, and once you were there, not so easy to get out of.

  It would take extra flights or a bus to get her to the airport, and time was passing. Maybe that’s what Allie was doing now. Packing. Mac would hate to see her go, but on the other hand, it might be better if she did.

  Mac pushed to her feet. Sitting in the sun was all good except that it turned your skin to leather. But she was way past caring.

  With a last look down the road, she walked round to the back door. Paused at the porch steps. Three little steps she’d been climbing for decades. Last week she’d misjudged the second one and landed on both knees on the porch floor. She’d never given those steps a thought; now she had to pay attention.

  It was a bitch. She’d make some homemade lemonade. The girls were sure to stop by before the day was done.

  Mac was just getting the lemons out of the bin when she heard her van pull up and stop. She knew it was her van by the sound. She peeked out the window anyway. Lillo and Jess were going down to Lillo’s cottage.

  She turned on the overhead light and got a knife out of the knife drawer. She sliced and squeezed and sugared and was just putting a large pitcher of fresh juice in the fridge when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come on in,” Mac called. “Door’s open.”

  Jess and Allie. “Lillo had to go help a Mrs. Oreton with her tomato plants.”

  “Ayuh. Figures. Poor thing. Her arthritis is so bad she can’t get the stakes in properly. Still tries, though.” Mac chuckled. Just like the rest of us old folks, she thought. Only she wasn’t that old. At least not to her way of thinking.

  “And Diana isn’t back from the stables yet, so we thought we’d come see what you’re doing. You look busy.”

  Busy. Ha, Mac hadn’t been busy in years. “Just making lemonade. And never too busy for company.”

  They came in and sat at the kitchen table like Lillo had been doing for years, and Lillo and Jess back when they were kids. Mac had thought her table would be empty from now on. This might just be a respite along the road to being alone, but she welcomed it.

  Mac wondered if she should bring up the events of the night before. Jess seemed in decent spirits, so maybe mentioning it would be tempting fate. She was holding up pretty well. In fact, there seemed to be an aura of relief around her.

  “I wanted to get a better look at that jewelry in the gift shop when it’s convenient,” Jess said. “And then we thought maybe today or tomorrow you could give us a tour of the lighthouse.”

  “Or we could just tag along when you have your next tour,” said Allie. “I wanted to see it before I left.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to fly home today?”

  “I was.”

  “Her mother-in-law talked her into staying the whole week. Isn’t that great?” Jess winced. “Great for us, anyway. Would you rather go home? You miss little Gino, I get it,” she said. “I hope I have the opportunity to feel the same way … someday.”

  Mac had had that opportunity, but only for a few short weeks. It seemed like another lifetime ago. But in that short time, she had felt what Allie must be feeling now.

  “You will, Jess.” Allie looked down and blinked back tears. “But it isn’t just that.”

  Oh dear, thought Mac.

  Jess put her arm lightly across Allie’s shoulder. “What is it? You can tell me and Mac.”

  Allie shook her head.

  Jess shook her gently. “Al, what’s wrong? You’ve always been there for me; let me help.”

  “You can’t. It’s nothing, really.”

  “It must be something,” Mac said, “or you wouldn’t be here trying to convince us it’s nothing.”

  “We’ll get you to Boston and you can fly out today if you want,” Jess said. “We’ll get a rental car and drive you down to the city if we have to.”

  “It’s not what I want. But it should be.” Allie sniffed.

  Tears were already brimming in Jess’s eyes.

  This was in danger of becoming a sob fest. Those never actually solved any problems, just made eveyone feel better and put off dealing with what they needed to deal with.

  “I’ll fix some lemonade and you can tell us all about it.” Mac hurried to the fridge, got some ice out, and put it in three glasses.

  There was more going on with Allie than just being homesick for her child—or maybe she was realizing just how lonely she was without her husband. It hadn’t escaped Mac’s notice last night that Allie and Nando had hit it off. And he’d stood up to the Goon Squad. Ayuh. There was more than homesickness brewing inside the sweet, even-tempered Allie.

  Mac handed out lemonade and sat down across from the girls. “Now.”

  Allie looked at her lemonade. Picked up the glass, put it down again. She obviously needed a little push.

  Mac didn’t hesitate to give her one. “Are you feeling guilty for staying away longer than you planned?”

  Allie shrugged. “A little.”

  “But you said that Gino was fine there and your mother-in-law said you should stay and have fun,” Jess said. “You shouldn’t feel bad about that.”

  “I don’t. I miss my little boy, but he loves staying with his grandparents. We live in the same house with them. So nothing has really changed, except that I’m not there. When Gino was still alive, we used to leave him with the family a lot, we traveled for the business and just to get away for relaxation, but since Gino … died … it’s not the same.”

  “So what’s the problem here?” Mac asked. “Do you think that because their son died, your in-laws are anxious for you to get back?”

  Allie looked up, her face stricken. “That’s just it. I think they’d be happy if I stayed away.”

  “They just want you to have a good time,” Jess said.

  “No, I mean stay away forever.”

  Allie’s statement fell between them like a rock to the sand.

  Jess pulled Allie into a hug. “Al, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up in my own worries I didn’t even think to ask.”

  “So ask now,” Mac urged.

  “Allie?”

  “I was so happy. Gino and me and little Gino. We were modernizing the vineyard and winery. Everything was still done on paper when we got there. Ordering and inventory was a nightmare. Papa Lusano was all for it, but some of the others, the uncles, they were old and set in their ways. They came around eventually, but ever since Gino was killed … I don’t know, I feel like a stranger in a strange land.

  “They’re family and yet, not really my family. And little Gino is one of them. The vineyard is his heritage. But it isn’t mine. At least Gino and I planned to move into our own house, but when he died, that idea sort of died with him. The Lusanos are wonderful people, loving and supportive, but I want my own home, where Gino can have a swing set and a dog that’s just his, and I can have my own curtains, my own teacups, my own … life.”

  “Have you told them how you feel?”

  Allie shook her head. “I can’t. They’ve opened their home to me because of their grandson and the memory of their son. And I love and respect them for that. Gino is their grandson, but he’s my son. They would never part with him. And neither will I.”

  “Good Lord,” Mac exclaimed. “Sorry, but what you need to do is sit down and talk to Mama Lusano.”

  “I’ve tried. And she’s so understanding. She’s the one who encouraged me to come to the wedding. To stay and have a good time. She even said I should start having a real life again. But I know it’s because they’re happy having Gino to themselves. Not consciously, but they wouldn’t miss me, not much anyway. They could go back to the old ways with their new grandson.

  “I’ll never leave him. So I’ll have to learn to be happy there. I am happy there. It’s just … I don’t know. It will never be any different.”

&n
bsp; “And you’ll never find love again,” Mac said.

  Both girls stared at her.

  “You make it sound so melodramatic.”

  “Well, hell. Love requires overpowering emotions, commitment …”

  “I can’t. I’ve had that conversation with myself a thousand times. Just to have someone’s arms around me that isn’t my father-in-law or uncle or cousin by marriage—or child. To fall into— Oh God, what am I saying? I should just go home.” She stood abruptly.

  “You should go on a tour of the lighthouse.” Mac pushed her chair back. “Come on, that’s enough philosophy for one day.”

  Lillo tossed the roll of gardening twine back into her carryall and surveyed her handiwork. Two perfect rows of staked tomato plants. A job well done. Very neat work. Mrs. Oreton had been so grateful. Gave her a bag of freshly baked cookies. Oatmeal chocolate chip, Lillo’s favorite.

  So why didn’t she feel more satisfied?

  She picked up her carryall and headed for home.

  It was a warm sunny day, Mrs. Oreton’s door thermometer had read eighty-four, practically a heat wave. Lillo wondered what Jess and Allie were doing. If Ian had welcomed Diana’s second visit or had sent her packing.

  She cut diagonally across the street, nodding and waving to people who were out enjoying the weather. Several blocks later she turned onto Main Street, which looked bustling by comparison to most days. The sidewalks were actually semicrowded.

  Which was probably the reason she didn’t see Doc Hartley until he was practically in front of her. She skittered to the side to miss a collision, but he’d had the same idea and they did a little dance step before finally giving up and standing still.

  Lillo laughed; nervously, she thought. Took a breath. “Don’t tell me you escaped the clinic for a minute.”

  He held up a brown paper bag. “Lunch.” He blew out air. “Had to take a break.”

  “Clancy still not back?”

  “Nope. Which is bad enough, but—” He shook his head.

  “But what?”

  “What’s in the bag?” He nodded to the carryall that hung over her shoulder.

  “Gardening tools. I was restaking Mrs. Oreton’s tomatoes.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “But what?” she prodded.

  He looked around, leaned toward her. “Barb came in to help this morning and she’s driving me nuts.”

  Lillo laughed outright at that. He did rather have the look of a trapped animal.

  “So you escaped and left Agnes to cope?”

  “Left Agnes to tell her thank you very much, but we wouldn’t be needing her this afternoon.”

  “Oh, Ned. She’ll be so hurt.”

  “That’s why I left Agnes to deal with it. Barb will think it’s jealousy on Agnes’s part, and I won’t get the blame and Barb won’t feel rejected.”

  “Sneaky.”

  “I took a whole hour off, I’ve got about forty-five minutes left. You want to share my egg-salad sandwich?”

  “Thanks, but …”

  “No buts. Just say thank you, you’re starving, and couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather have lunch with.”

  What was the harm? And she used to enjoy his company.

  “A cloud just passed over your head. Is it me?” Ned asked.

  “No, of course not, I’d love to share your lunch. And I am starving.”

  Without speaking, they crossed the street and walked down the hill toward the boat landing, continued on until they came to a little sandy beach tucked in between a rock embankment and a grassy verge.

  Lillo wondered if she was making a mistake, if Ned would start badgering her about coming back to the clinic—or to medicine. But something had been happening to her in the last few days. In the days since Jess, Allie, and Diana had come to stay.

  She’d forgotten what it was like to have friends near her own age. She’d forgotten how to have fun, to appreciate silly things.

  Ned took her elbow and guided her over the rocks to a flat place that overlooked the sea. She didn’t need help, she knew where they were going. But Ned was like that, ever the gentleman; he’d been that way as a teenager, even to her, who was light-years younger than he at that age. Now there wasn’t so much difference … Except he was following his dream, and she wasn’t.

  They sat and Ned reached inside the bag and took out a wad of napkins. “The guys at the deli must think I’m a slob.” He made a face. “Well, maybe I am a little.”

  Next came the sandwich wrapped in wax paper. “So you enjoy gardening as a way of life?” he asked, unwrapping the sandwich with surgeonlike precision.

  She knew it had been too good to last. “I don’t kill flowers.”

  “Lillo …”

  “Is that why you brought me down here. To lecture me?”

  “I invited you to have lunch. Why do you think everyone has an ulterior motive?”

  “Most people do.”

  “Well, I don’t.” He handed her half of the sandwich. “Though now that you mention it, there is something I want to ask you about.”

  She stiffened.

  “Not about you. About your friend the CEO.”

  “Diana?”

  “About her and Ian.”

  She’d been about to take a bite of her sandwich but she put it down. “He’s letting her ride in exchange for mucking out the stables. I know it’s a weird arrangement, but she wanted to ride and that’s what he demanded.” She saw his skepticism. “Diana is a successful businesswoman and she’s willing to negotiate for what she wants.

  “We had to buy her clothes to ride in. You should have seen her reaction to Barb’s store. But she went in like a trouper and ended up buying a bunch of stuff.”

  “Ian said she was coming back today.”

  This time the sandwich almost made it to her mouth. “So?”

  “She’s spending a lot of time at Ian’s.”

  “She’s been there twice, three times if you count her going to see if he would rent her a horse. She’s only here for a week, so she doesn’t have time to waste.” She finally got the sandwich to her mouth and took a big bite. It was delicious.

  “I just think it’s odd that he keeps letting her come back.”

  Her mouth was full, so she raised her eyebrows in question.

  “I don’t know, but the mere fact that he’s letting her return day after day is … unusual. And he … Well, you know he has coping problems; he’s not like other guys that you have fun with for a few days and then leave without a backward glance.”

  Lillo forced herself to swallow. “Crap. Are you serious? She’s just riding. She has her own horses that she never sees and she went riding on a whim.”

  “And she went back today?”

  Lillo shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s perfectly harmless. I think. She did say he was attractive or something like that. Well, that’s no secret. He’s really good-looking, and buff in a skinny way.”

  Doc gave her a curious look.

  “That’s a perfectly normal reaction. It happens all the time: you see a guy and make an evaluation.”

  Ned burst out laughing.

  “You know what I mean. It doesn’t mean she—they—they’re not … are they?”

  “I don’t know how far it’s gone, he hasn’t said anything, but he’s different.”

  “Different in a good way?”

  “I don’t know. I just know that the way he’s acting isn’t like Ian, and I don’t want him pushed back further into his private hell if she leads him on then disappears.”

  “I think you’re overreacting. It’s only been two days.”

  “When it happens, it happens. It doesn’t take long.”

  No, it didn’t, Lillo thought. Not too long ago she’d thought it had happened to her. And what about Jess? And Diana had been married twice. None of them had good track records. “I know I’m the last person to ask someone about their life. But do you want me to talk to her?”

  Ned shook his head. �
�I’m probably being overly cautious, but I’d hate for him to have a major setback because he misread her intentions.”

  “He’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

  “Sure, but when he came here a few years back—you were gone then. He was a total recluse. These days he’s the life of the party in comparison. But he still has dark times and probably always will. Consistency is important.”

  “You can’t protect him.”

  “Of course not, and maybe I shouldn’t butt in, but we go back a long ways.”

  “And you care. I’ll see what I can do. Now can I eat my sandwich?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get chips?”

  Mac unlocked the gate to the jetty and waited for Allie and Jess to walk through before locking it again. When she had a big tour she sometimes left it open for stragglers, but with the walkway over the jetty beginning to disintegrate, she wasn’t keen on having individuals striking off on their own.

  The girls seemed eager to see inside. She appreciated their enthusiasm and didn’t want to spoil it by reminding them to be careful on the jetty. So she just bent her head to watch her own steps, which slowed her down considerably; they were waiting by the door when she reached them.

  The locks had been changed many times over the years, but Mac always kept the old keys on the original key ring, an iron ring almost five inches in diameter and heavy as hell, but possibly original to the lighthouse. And whether true or not, it lent a historical mood to the visitors.

  The inside of the lighthouse was several degrees colder than outside and a bit damp. The thick stone-and-plaster walls could withstand all sorts of weather, but like old bones, once the cold seeped in, it was hard to get it warm again.

  Above their heads equally spaced windows allowed in enough light to see comfortably.

  “Wow,” Allie said, turning slowly around.

  Mac wasn’t sure if she was awestruck by the magic of the space or shocked by the fact that it was a rapidly deteriorating ruin. What was left in the oil room was rusted almost beyond recognition. The storeroom next to it was a little better only because Mac had cleared it out to make room for a narrow cot, a small table, and a straight-backed chair for the nights she sometimes stayed here. Only the circular iron staircase looked anything like a working lighthouse. No wonder people weren’t interested in seeing it.