Lighthouse Beach

by Shelley Noble

  “We didn’t go anywhere, except I think he was … you know … and I certainly was.” She leaned back in the chair so hard it wobbled. “Thank God there are only a few more days before I leave.”

  “Ha. Time enough to do a quick exploratory affair.”

  “I—no. I can’t. I won’t.”

  “Come on, Allie. You deserve a little fun. And that’s all it has to be. A little fun. Gino wouldn’t begrudge you that.”

  Allie shook her head and her eyes filled.

  Diana put down her glass and took Allie’s hand. “Allie, it’s been almost four years since Gino died. He wouldn’t want you to curl up and never find love again.”

  Allie pulled her hand away. And covered her face with both hands. “We were supposed to be together forever.”

  Lillo bit her lip and looked out to the waves to calm herself. Forever could sometimes be much shorter than you thought.

  “Okay. If you feel like you have to leave, I’ll rent a car and drive you to the airport.” Diana looked at Lillo.

  “There’s a rental place on the mainland,” Lillo said. “We can borrow Mac’s van to pick it up.”

  Diana reached for her glass. “So, it’s all good. Whatever you want to do.”

  “I want my husband back.”

  Jess, Diana, and Lillo exchanged looks and said nothing.

  After a few moments Allie shook herself and looked up. “Are those crackers on that plate?”

  Jess passed her the plate.

  “Did Jess tell you about visiting the lighthouse? It was so interesting, wasn’t it, Jess?”

  Jess nodded.

  “That’s it?” Diana asked. “Soooo?”

  “Mac said to come over at seven and bring our appetites.”

  “Talk about changing the subject.”

  “I …” Allie swallowed convulsively. “Just this once. I want to stay.”

  Diana let out a slow breath. “It’s this town. It’s like one of those places that just shows up when needed—like a latter-day Brigadoon appears out of the mist when someone needs help. Is that what the sign means, Lillo? Life will never be the same after you visit Lighthouse Beach?”

  “It’s just a sign,” Lillo said. “You know, marketing.”

  “I wonder.”

  Jess sat up. “Di, this is so not you. Are you going all woo-woo on us?”

  “No. But I know a tightly run corporation when I see it. You protect each other. You protect strangers. Look how they stood up for you the other night. How no one seems to pay anything to the clinic. How Doc Clancy drops everything and spends days at a hospital with his patient’s mother just to be supportive. Is everyone in town like that?”

  They looked at Lillo. She shrugged. “I can’t answer for everybody.”

  “It’s like we were drawn here.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “Jess needed help. She wanted to come here. Because … I’m not sure why, but she knew where to go.”

  “Oh, come on, Diana, it’s because she remembered good days here as a kid. Plus, I had the car.”

  “What about me and Allie? Are we here because we need help, too?”

  “Allie came because she’s Jess’s friend. You’re here because you invited yourself.”

  Jess crowed. “Well, she’s got you there.”

  Diana looked over to Lillo. Lillo held up her glass to Diana.

  Diana returned the air toast, drained her glass, and stood. “And why are you here, Lillo?” She put her empty glass on the table. “I think I’ll just go wash off my ‘trail dirt’ before dinner.”

  Allie and Jess were left looking at Lillo.

  “Why did you come back, Lillo?” Jess asked.

  “Because it’s my home.” And because she felt safe here. At least until this week.

  What was happening here? Until this week, she would have said she was happy staking tomatoes, and tying up peonies, pulling weeds, and deadheading spent blooms. Now it just didn’t seem like enough.

  Even Ian, as damaged as he was, helped others, accepted the kids, though it must be nearly impossible for him. And here she was, staking tomatoes and feeling like her life was over, when she should have been giving, too.

  Maybe Diana was right about the sign. She’d lived here for most of her nearly thirty years and had never given it a second thought; until now.

  Chapter 16

  Diana, Allie, and Jess were still sleeping when Lillo, dressed in clean slacks and a T-shirt, quietly slipped out of the cottage the next morning. Now she was standing across the street from the clinic wondering if she would actually go inside, and if she did, whether she would be making a big mistake.

  But Doc and Ian hadn’t come to dinner last night. And if Doc was too tired to eat Mac’s cooking, then he needed help. She’d actually been disappointed not to see him. And she knew Diana was disappointed that Ian hadn’t come, but all she said when Mac remarked on it was, “He keeps my wits sharpened.”

  Lillo knew Diana was intrigued by Ian, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he was an enigma to be cracked or because she really cared about him. Lillo had to admit she had a wild urge to see the immovable meet the unstoppable. She’d put her money on Diana and her hope on her doing Ian a world of good.

  If not … well, she didn’t want to contemplate that endgame. She really didn’t want to contemplate her own situation either. Situation? She was up to her chin in quicksand, and if she didn’t haul herself out soon, she would disappear forever. Would that be a bad thing?

  “Yes.” Get your shit together. Now.

  Lillo stepped off the curb, crossed the street. She didn’t go in the front door, even though she knew Agnes would already be there, and coffee would be freshly made; though at the moment she had so much adrenaline coursing through her body the last thing she needed was caffeine.

  She walked around the side of the clinic. Slowed down as she neared the back door. She just needed another second or two to pull herself together. Such a simple thing: turn the doorknob, step inside, tell Agnes she was only here to unpack supplies and restock shelves and cabinets.

  The whole hello thing would take thirty seconds max. Then she’d pour herself a cup of coffee and the world would stop tilting. She’d organize and reorganize, say good-bye, and leave before Ned could say thank you or smile at her like she’d done a good thing.

  All the good things in the world couldn’t make up for the one thing she couldn’t undo. She sat down on the stoop. She just needed another second to regroup.

  And that’s where Ned found her when he rode into the driveway and came to a stop.

  Lillo shot to her feet. She’d meant to be hard at work before he arrived so she could just keep doing things and he couldn’t make a big deal about her being there. Agnes would have already given her instructions, because that’s the way it had been since Lillo had volunteered there as a young girl. And she and Ned wouldn’t have to talk about stuff.

  She’d move supplies around and clean up between patients. A glorified janitor. Her penance. It was about time.

  Ned walked up the steps toward her, taking off his helmet. “Isn’t Agnes in?” he asked nonchalantly, no shock at seeing her, no questioning look. Not even a smug smile. He walked past her to the door.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gone in yet.”

  “Door’s open. She must be here.” He held it open for her.

  Lillo went inside. And it was done.

  Agnes was surprised—and happy. She jumped up from her desk, scattering files, and gave Lillo a hug. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you at the clinic. Welcome back.”

  “I’m not—I just—I’m just here to restock shelves and things like that, so you and Doc can catch up on the patient list.”

  “That’s great. Let’s grab a quick cup of coffee and I’ll show you what’s what. We’ve moved some things around since you were here last.”

  Lillo followed her to the kitchen. It looked just like it always did, except for more boxes of su
pplies, more file cabinets, and less space at the table.

  She and Agnes stood in the little patch of free floor space, sipping their coffee and trying not to feel awkward—at least Lillo was trying.

  Finally, Agnes looked up from her cup. “Thank you so much for coming in. With Doc Clancy not here, Doc has had his hands full and more. I stocked the cabinet in his exam room before I left last night, but he’ll be needing things moved back and forth before the morning’s out.”

  Lillo started to say she’d just planned to stay for the morning, because she had out-of-town guests, but the explanation refused to come out. And when they’d rinsed out their cups and Agnes handed her a stack of boxes, Lillo followed her down the hall to Ned’s office and examination room.

  “I’ll give you ten minutes to get organized, then I’ll call in the first patient,” Agnes said over her head, and left her standing in the doorway.

  Mac leaned in a little closer to the window and squinted to see who was standing in the parking lot. It was another bright sunny day. Good for the girls’ vacation, but it made everyone look like black silhouettes to her. She thought it must be Allie or Jess. Because Lillo had left a good hour ago. It was probably Allie looking for a signal for her phone. Mac didn’t know why she just didn’t come in and use the landline. It wouldn’t break the bank any more than anything else.

  And if she wanted her privacy for calling her in-laws, talking to her child, making new plane reservations, she could shut the door. Mac liked the girl, enjoyed having her here, and she was pleased as punch yesterday when her lemonade ploy worked and Allie actually stayed and talked to Nando. She thought they must have hit it off. She’d heard their laughter through the open window.

  That was a good sign. And she was taking all the good signs she could find these days. She’d spent a good part of last night watching the lighthouse for marauders. There had been a hefty cloud cover and it was dark as pitch. Several times she thought she saw shadows moving, but it was only the wind and clouds. At least that’s what she hoped. She went out as soon as the tide was out this morning to double-check. Everything looked untouched.

  And old. Old like her. Older and in worse shape. She hadn’t realized it until she tried seeing it through Jess’s and Allie’s eyes. If it didn’t get some much-needed refurbishing, the lighthouse would soon be beyond repair. Soon both of them would be beyond repair.

  Her whole adult life had been spent there. Her version of a family home. The gift shop had been the actual keeper’s house, but she had always felt more at home in the lighthouse. “Like Rapunzel’s tower,” Lillo had once said. But that had been a long, long time ago, when Lillo was a little girl, and Mac doubted if she even remembered saying it.

  The lighthouse had been automated decades ago. It had stayed active for a while after that, with Mac mainly responsible for technical maintenance. Then it was shut down completely.

  The town bought it for a song and gifted Mac the keeper’s house for as long as she lived. Which was very generous, but what would happen to it when she was gone? Torn down or left to fall down; either way the lighthouse would cease to exist. Because unless there was a sudden surge in real estate or tourism, which seemed unlikely, the two-member historical society would never be able to raise the funds to sustain it.

  But by then, hopefully, Mac would be beyond caring. Did you wonder about things when you were dead? Mac doubted it. She didn’t believe in an afterlife.

  And you shouldn’t be wasting your earthly life thinking about it, old woman.

  Allie—Mac could see it was Allie now—was walking toward the gift shop. She put on a fresh pot of coffee.

  A minute later the back door opened and shut.

  “Mac?”

  “Come on in. I just put on coffee.”

  Allie stepped into the kitchen and Mac mentally patted herself on the back for her perspicacity. The girl was dressed for success. An outfit she’d surely brought with her. Because of Nando? Mac hoped so, not that she thought anything lasting would come of it, but that girl needed to awaken to life again.

  “I need to ask a favor,” Allie said.

  Uh-oh, thought Mac. She sounded serious. This was not the time for her to be serious. Had she scared herself?

  Allie’s gaze flitted away then back to Mac’s face.

  “Ask away,” Mac said with more enthusiasm than she was suddenly feeling.

  “First I have a question.”

  Mac nodded. What was with the girl?

  “How long have you been losing your eyesight?”

  Ned spent the morning trying not to pay attention to Lillo quietly restocking shelves and cleaning and resetting the examination room. She was a natural, waiting for him to walk out with a patient before slipping into the room and slipping out again as he showed the next patient in. Sometimes she wasn’t fast enough and a patient stopped to ask how she was.

  She was attentive and kind but managed to slip away quickly. Ned tried to convince himself that she was just being efficient, but he was pretty sure that she just didn’t want to be seen.

  All morning he’d been treading carefully, careful not to fall into the easy camaraderie they used to have when she was off from med school and he came in for his brief stint as visiting doctor, careful not to be caught watching her. Trying to look steadily expressionless when it was necessary to talk to her or ask her to get something he needed.

  It was humiliating for both of them. Both denying the gift she had. Pretending like things hadn’t derailed for her in a tragic way. Knowing he could never convince her to get back to what she did best. That the world needed her. But it wasn’t his place. Not anymore.

  It was around lunchtime when he happened to overhear Lillo tell Agnes she was going to leave. She offered to pick up sandwiches and bring them back before she called it a day. Was she going to sneak away without at least asking if he still needed her? Not that she owed the clinic anything. But the two of them had fallen into such a comfortable, efficient, stressless rhythm that he knew he would miss her the moment she was gone.

  Fortunately—for him at least—Dora Wilson brought her daughter Callie in with a gash on her leg. While her mother held her and tried to soothe her, he and Lillo quickly cleaned the wound and stitched her up.

  He was unnerved at how easily Lillo had slipped back into her role of physician, and dreaded the moment when she realized what she’d done. He knew there would be repercussions; he just hoped that when the dust cleared, they would all be on the right side of the outcome.

  They were cleaning up after Callie when Ned heard a motorcycle turn into the backyard of the clinic and come to a stop.

  Lillo heard it, too; she stopped to listen and Ned could see the reality beginning to sink in. She hurriedly pulled off the used paper table cover, wadded it up, gathered up the used gauze and swabs, dropped the instruments into the metal tray, and carried them all toward the door.

  She was moving at warp speed as panic took over. He could see it happening and there was not one damn thing he could do about it.

  Ned wanted to run and stand in front of the door, barring her way out. Convince her she was screwing up her life for all the wrong reasons. But he didn’t have a chance.

  And as it turned out, he didn’t need to.

  She opened the door and walked right into Clancy Farrow.

  They both stopped cold, one of those suspended moments where the only reaction you could have—when reaction came—was surrender.

  Clancy broke first. “Lillo, great to have you back.” A quick glance over her head to Ned. “Sorry I left you two in the lurch for so long. If the people in this town would only go to the doctor before it became an emergency, everyone would be a lot better off.”

  Lillo smiled and slipped past him, leaving Ned and Clancy looking at each other.

  Clancy raised his eyebrows and shut the door. “How did you manage that?”

  Ned shrugged. “I didn’t. She was sitting on the stoop when I got here this morning. I didn’t
ask, just acted like it was perfectly normal.” He exhaled. “I’ve been walking on eggshells all day hoping I wouldn’t scare her away.”

  “I think I might have—scared her away.”

  “We’ll see. Maybe she’ll remember how good she was at this doctoring business and won’t be able to stay away.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “But you don’t hold out much hope. Neither do I.”

  Clancy tossed his helmet on the coatrack and shrugged out of his jacket.

  Ned slouched down in his desk chair and watched his mentor and old friend. A little more portly, a little less hair, but still as vibrant as the day they’d met. “You wouldn’t believe how smoothly everything went this morning, and all she was doing was replacing supplies and making patients feel more relaxed. Then Callie Wilson came in with a pretty deep leg wound; it required a couple layers of stitches and she didn’t miss a beat.”

  “Stitches are pretty standard stuff,” Clancy reminded him.

  “I know, but it’s a start.”

  “True. Anything else happen while I was gone?”

  Ned burst out laughing. “What didn’t happen?”

  Diana looked up at Ian’s house. She’d gone straight to the stables when she’d arrived. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t with patients or in his office. Loki was in his stall, so this was the last place she knew to look.

  She didn’t know whether he was purposely avoiding her or if he’d been called out on an emergency. He might be skulking around on the second floor of his house watching her through dingy windows, hoping she’d go away.

  Then why not just tell her? She winced. Actually, he had. Several times.

  She climbed up the porch steps. She’d just knock. What if he’d fallen and couldn’t get up or had the flu and was hallucinating?

  She knocked, waited, tried the knob. The door wasn’t locked; she opened it. Called out. Got no answer. Peered into the shadows.

  She didn’t go in but she did look around. The front room was large—barely furnished. “Spartan” would be a nice way of putting it. She could see a fairly modern kitchen off to the right, with a big butcher-block table in the center.