The Shore House: An emotional and uplifting page turner (Dewberry Beach Book 1)

by Heidi Hostetter

  “You know”—Chase’s eyes twinkled as he lowered his voice—“they say this house is filled with treasure. I’ve heard that pirates used it as a hide-out years ago and it’s filled with secret cubbyholes, so you never know what you’ll find.”

  Stacy remembered the story of her own grandfather “finding” boxes of galvanized marine nails along with Pine Barren timber in the alley behind the house and snorted. “I bet.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” As Stacy’s father addressed Sophie his smile widened. “If you happen to see my granddaughter, would you send her out to us?” He held his hand flat. “She’s about this tall and looks surprisingly like you. Her name is Sophie.”

  Sophie lifted the eye patch. “It’s me, Grampy. I’m Sophie.”

  “Oh, pardon me. So you are.” He shook his head ruefully. “I guess I didn’t recognize you all dressed up. Where ya going?”

  “Out to dinner. Then to a play.”

  “Is that so?”

  As her father concluded his conversation with Sophie, Connor brought his treasure to Stacy. “This was on top of my pillow, Mommy, but I don’t know what it is. Sophie got one too.”

  “Let’s see what you got.” Ryan sat down on the chair opposite Connor and pulled Sophie onto his lap. She was more delicate than her brother, extracting the contents from her purse one by one instead of dumping it all.

  “What’s this, Mommy?” Sophie asked.

  Stacy knelt on the floor and slipped it on her daughter’s wrist. “It’s a rope bracelet, Sophie. You put it on your wrist on the first day of summer vacation and wear it all summer long.”

  “Even in the water?” Connor asked.

  “Even in the water,” Stacy said. “Every day the sun and the water soften the rope and shrink it to fit your wrist, until you forget that you even have it on. On the last day of summer vacation, before you leave the shore, you get together with your friends and cut the bracelet off.”

  “And then what?” Sophie asked.

  “And then you remember all the fun you had at the shore,” Stacy added quickly.

  If you were a kid, the first thing you did when you arrived at Dewberry Beach was run to Applegate’s Hardware store and buy your bracelet. If you were lucky and you arrived early, you could find one with a colored cord woven into the design. If not, you made do with all-white and pretended that’s what you wanted in the first place. Every kid had one and wore it everywhere—to the beach, in the pool, on the courts—all summer long. Cutting it off marked the end of summer and was just as significant. Some of the older kids gave the fragments to a holiday crush, but Connor and Sophie were too young to know about that part.

  Stacy glanced at her mother, the only one who would have known about the bracelets and was touched by her thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  While Ryan and her father talked, Stacy followed her mother into the kitchen to help her with dinner. They took the long way around, through the mudroom instead of the dining room, which seemed a bit odd, but maybe Stacy was just tired.

  Through the open windows, she heard the kids shrieking as they ran around the yard. Despite naps, they were wired from the trip down and their new surroundings. Hopefully a good dinner and a warm bath would make them sleepy enough to go to bed at a reasonable time. She was tired herself and hoped Brad would arrive soon so they could eat.

  “Can I help set the table?”

  “It’s already set, but you can make the salad.” Kaye pointed to the cutting board and knife on the countertop. “Everything you need is in the crisper in the refrigerator.”

  Stacy suppressed a groan. Making the salad was the worst job. If Brad were here, she would have pulled older-sister privilege and made him scrape and chop the vegetables. But he was running late, as usual, so making the salad fell to her. She made her way to the refrigerator and opened the drawer. In retaliation, she’d make Brad do the dishes—all of them. Even scrub the pots with steel wool pads. When he was finished, she’d inspect his work and make him wash them again, because big sisters could get away with things like that.

  Her mother pulled a deli tray from the refrigerator and lifted the plastic lid. On the tray was an assortment that seemed different than their usual. Instead of the typical selection of cured meats, aged cheeses, and mayo-based pasta salads, there was lighter fare: sliced turkey, shredded baked chicken, and vegetables like celery, cucumbers, and carrots. It struck Stacy again how much her parents’ lives had changed since her father’s heart attack.

  “How’s Dad feeling?” Stacy asked, as she held a colander of mushrooms under the faucet.

  “Brush off the mushrooms, Stacy. Don’t rinse them or they’ll get waterlogged.”

  Stacy turned off the tap.

  Her mother wiped her hands on a tea towel and paused to consider the question. “Your father thinks he’s healthier than he is.” She folded the towel, placing it neatly on the countertop. “Selling his stake in the business was hard for him, even though it was the right decision.”

  “What’s he going to do now?”

  “He’s going to retire, Stacy.” Her mother’s words were clipped, as if any other option was ridiculous. Stacy knew her well enough to recognize the end of a discussion.

  It was strange to imagine her father retired. He’d loved his job and had told Stacy that he’d found the work rewarding, more so because he’d earned the opportunity himself. Both Stacy’s parents came from working-class families and had put themselves through school. Chase worked for his father during the day to earn tuition and attended college classes at night. After graduating with a degree in finance, he found a job on Wall Street in New York City and worked his way up. He started his own business, fulfilling a need so specialized that Stacy wasn’t exactly sure what it was but knew he loved it.

  To quit entirely instead of pulling back must have been hard for him.

  They worked in silence for a while, Stacy lost in her own thoughts.

  She reached for a pepper. “Can I leave the red peppers off the salad, Mom? Connor doesn’t like them.”

  Kaye frowned. “Of course not. Your father likes them and Connor needs to learn the world will not change for him.”

  Stacy stiffened. “I wasn’t really looking for a life lesson here, Mom. And Connor will learn what Ryan and I decide to teach him.”

  She glared at her mother and her mother glared back.

  Her mother was the first to yield. “You do what you want, Stacy.” Her mother adopted the same grating tone that had worked Stacy’s nerves for years. “I think it’s never too early to learn the world doesn’t care what you prefer. How will that boy navigate the world if he’s coddled?”

  Stacy bit back a remark, though she didn’t want to. One of the resentments of Stacy’s life was being forced to “go along” for the sake of everyone else. Like tolerating peppers in her salad when she didn’t want them or pretending to be cheerful when she wasn’t. It seemed that she was always making sure everyone around her was happy except herself, and she refused to teach that lesson to her children.

  However, now wasn’t the time to pick a fight with her mother. If they were to get along this summer, allowances must be made. Her grip tightened as she sliced discs of cucumber, willing Brad to arrive. When she finished, she plated a small salad for Connor—without peppers—and brought it to the table, then returned with the larger bowl for the family.

  As she placed it on the table, she noticed the count seemed off. There was a high chair for Sophie, a booster seat for Connor, and four regular place settings. One missing.

  Her mother had forgotten to set a place for Brad.

  No big deal. Stacy pulled another placemat from the buffet drawer and made room on the table.

  She had been rummaging around for a matching napkin when her mother entered the room.

  “What are you doing?” Kaye asked, her tone wary.

  “It looks like we’re one place short,” Stacy answered, her attention on the
contents of the drawer. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.”

  “You needn’t bother. Brad won’t be joining us tonight after all.” Her mother’s words were deliberately casual as she set a basket of rolls in the center of the table and turned to leave.

  “Mom.”

  Kaye paused at the door, her expression unreadable.

  Stacy closed the drawer slowly, then faced her mother. “You said Brad was coming. When I spoke to you last week, you said he’d be here for the summer.”

  “He is coming. He’s just late.”

  “How late?” Stacy pressed. “Will he be here tomorrow? The day after? What did he say when you talked to him?”

  “I don’t know why the specifics matter so much to you, Stacy.” A hint of color rose in her mother’s cheeks. “But since they do, I’ll tell you that I’ve left several messages for your brother. I’m still waiting for him to return my calls.”

  The air between them crackled with tension.

  “So you haven’t actually spoken with him?” Stacy finished, biting off each word. “You lied to me.”

  “Honestly, Stacy. You get worked up over the smallest thing. Your brother will come. Tomorrow, or the day after—this week or next.” Kaye fluttered her hand through the air. “What difference does it make exactly when?”

  Stacy felt the breath leave her body. An image of the family calendar came to Stacy, carefully balanced with summer activities. Each week carefully orchestrated to allow the perfect mix of play for the kids and rest for her. All cancelled. The weeks of summer camp, the reading tutor she’d hired for Sophie, the sleepovers and playdates and birthday parties they’d all been looking forward to. She’d cancelled them all. Ryan, too, had restructured his work just to be here, and he’d done it without complaint. What they had in place of the summer she’d planned was a summer here, weeks and weeks of sparring with her mother. An endless summer of criticism and unmet expectations, and she just didn’t have the energy for it.

  If she gave voice to her thoughts now, she’d regret it, so she said nothing. She felt a surge of anger so powerful that it could only be contained by pressing her teeth together until she imagined her jaw might crack. She wasn’t strong enough to stand against her mother. Not without her brother.

  Stacy watched Kaye turn to leave the dining room, as if the discussion were finished. Her mother always got the end result she wanted—how it came about never mattered.

  A thought came to her so unexpectedly that it stopped Stacy in her tracks. What if Dad didn’t ask for this? The shore house was her mother’s domain. What if she was the one who’d decided on a family summer, and what if she had orchestrated it all, with the lie that the visit was necessary for her father’s health?

  That was too much to consider. She turned on her heel and left the dining room.

  Outside, she crossed the back deck and strode across the length of the yard, stopping only when she could go no further. She stopped at the farthest corner of the empty lot next to the property, lowered herself to the ground, and sat with her back to the house, feeling like a petulant toddler but not caring. Instead, she stewed, furious that her mother had lured her to the shore under false pretenses. Angry with herself for allowing herself the hope that this visit would be any different from all the others. And sad that her mother seemed to be perfectly willing to shatter what was left of their relationship.

  Of course, staying for the summer was now out of the question.

  Stacy fished her cell phone from her pocket, tapped the icon for her brother, and listened to it ring. After four, it rolled to voicemail.

  “Brad, it’s me.” She slapped away a cloud of gnats that had begun to swarm around her head. “I’m here at the shore house because Mom told me you were going to be here. That’s how she got us here, telling me you were coming for the summer, but I don’t think you know anything about it.” Her nose had started to run. She sniffed loudly. “Ryan seems to think you’re traveling so I hope you get this. Call me when you do—call collect if you have to. I’m not staying down here alone. I can’t take concentrated Mom, and no one else understands like you do.” She cleared her throat and summoned her best Big Sister Voice. “You better call me.”

  No matter how badly her father may or may not have wanted the family together at the shore house, Stacy could not imagine an entire summer without her brother serving as a buffer against her mother.

  “You okay?” Ryan stood before her, silhouetted in the fading evening light.

  “Brad’s not coming.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “My mother admitted that she never talked to him. She lied.”

  “Wow.” Ryan sat on the grass next to her. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “I think it’s more than ‘unfortunate,’ don’t you?

  “I know you and your mother don’t usually get along, but even I can see she’s trying.”

  “She lied to me.”

  “She twisted the truth a bit,” Ryan agreed. “What else would have gotten you here?”

  “I don’t know,” Stacy huffed. “Maybe tell the truth for once? The complete truth?”

  Ryan scoffed. “You’re saying that if your mother said, ‘Please come down to the shore house for the summer, I miss you and want to see my grandchildren,’ it would have been enough for you to cancel everything and drive down?”

  “That’s not the point, Ryan,” Stacy retorted, purposely avoiding his question. “She does this all the time. In fact, I don’t think Dad even cares that we’re here.”

  “Oh, I think he might.” Ryan plucked a blade of grass. “You didn’t see him talking to Sophie. I’ve never heard him talk like that—pirate treasure? What was that?”

  Stacy snorted. “Yeah, that was… new.”

  “He’s never really had a chance to know the kids.”

  Stacy wanted to point out that her parents knew where they lived and could visit any time, but Ryan raised his hand to stop her. “For whatever reason—he hasn’t been around them much. But we’re all together now. It took a lot to get us here, so maybe we should think about staying for just a little longer?”

  They sat in silence for a while, watching the shadows deepen into twilight and hearing the birdsong give way to crickets. Ryan’s phone beeped twice with messages, but he didn’t check them and Stacy was grateful.

  “Stace?”

  “Yes?”

  “These mosquitos are eating me alive. Can we go inside now?”

  “Fine.” Stacy felt the pull of a smile. “But we leave the shore when I want to. Even if I wake up in the middle of the night and decided that’s it. We leave.”

  “Deal.”

  “And you have to help me up.”

  “Okay.”

  “But you have to pretend that I’m not getting fat.”

  “I would never.” Ryan pulled Stacy to her feet and they walked back to the house.

  Five

  She handled that badly.

  When Kaye heard the back door close, she knew where Stacy was headed and she knew better than to follow. Promising Stacy that Brad would be staying at the shore house with them had been a miscalculation, but in her defense, Kaye had been sure he would call before Stacy and her family arrived for the summer. What boy goes so long without calling his mother? Especially one who’s traveling.

  As she plated the cookies from the bakery, Kaye saw her summer slipping away, like a child’s plastic bucket being pulled into the surf. Over the past three years her life had been upended, along with her husband’s, and she’d had a lot of time to think. Maybe too much. There were things to make up for, memories to erase—or at least to replace. Kaye needed the time with her family to make sure it happened.

  “Are those cookies for us, Bibi?” Connor asked. He stood, wide-eyed and dimple-cheeked, his head barely reaching the countertop. She was glad to see he wore the rope bracelet she gave him. At least he’d have that when Stacy made them all leave, as she undoubtedly would. The only question was wh
en.

  “They are, once you’ve had your dinner,” Kaye replied as lightly as she could manage. “Do you like cookies?”

  “Chocolate is my favorite.” Connor nodded, looking so much like Brad when he was little that Kaye could almost imagine her son standing before her. Connor’s face had lost the baby-ness she remembered. He was becoming a real little man, with green eyes like his mother and wavy brown hair like his father. Sophie had changed so much that Kaye almost didn’t recognize her. When was the last time they were all together? Christmas? No, before that. Thanksgiving.

  That had ended badly too.

  “But I don’t like fruit cookies.” Connor grimaced as he continued. “Someone brought jammy ones to my soccer game for after and they weren’t good.”

  “Well, there are no fruit cookies here. And in the future, I will remember not to buy them.”

  “Do you have black and whites?” Stacy entered the kitchen from the back deck, followed by Ryan. Her expression was unreadable, but at least she’d come back and Kaye knew she had Ryan to thank for that.

  “I will always have black and whites.” Kaye dropped her gaze and focused on her work. “They’re your favorite.”

  “C’mon, bud, let’s get washed up for dinner.” Stacy cupped her son’s head and directed him to the powder room.

  After they’d left, Kaye glanced at her son-in-law, her gratitude overflowing. “Thank you.”

  Dinner that night was quick, the conversation stilted, and Kaye got the feeling that even though Stacy had returned to the house, all was not forgiven. While Ryan and Chase chatted about Ryan’s work and Chase’s retirement, Stacy busied herself with the children. Kaye hoped she would decide to stay a few more days, if only to rest. She looked pale, her face drawn. Three children in six years really was too much, but it was impossible to tell Stacy anything.

  After dessert, Stacy took the children upstairs to get ready for bed. On the way down the hallway, Kaye overheard Connor say that he planned to sleep with his rope bracelet on and Sophie ask if she could sleep with her new red purse.