“I didn’t want to be a bother. There’s been so much going on with the business and then with Dad. I didn’t want to pile on.”
“What else is family for if not to pile on?” He pressed his lips against her forehead, much like he used to when she was a little girl. “We’re going to talk about this more. Until you get it all out. So you can see clearly again, okay?”
“Today?” Alethea’s voice sounded slightly strangled.
Xander glanced back at Calliope, who, with the mere inclination of her head, gave him the answer he needed. “Not today, no.” He squeezed her again. “You sure you don’t want something to eat?” Xander asked.
“Not really, no.”
“How about popcorn?” he offered. “I can manage popcorn.”
“Just the tea.” Alethea looked uncertain. “I know you’re worried, but I promise, I’ll be here in the morning. I won’t run away again. Besides, you two need time to talk about me.”
“That’s not what we’re going to do,” Xander protested. “Calliope and I have work to do. Regarding the sanctuary. Committee stuff, right, Calliope?”
Alethea looked at Calliope for confirmation.
“It does seem an appropriate time to discuss...stuff.” Calliope touched her hand to Alethea’s face. “Tomorrow will be better.”
“For the first time in a long while, I think that might be right. Good night.” She held her mug to the side as she hugged Xander tight. “I’m sorry I scared everyone.”
“I’m just glad you’re safe.” Xander held on for as long as she let him. “I’ll see you in the morning.” After Alethea closed her bedroom door, Xander found Calliope watching him, an odd expression on her face. “What?”
“You’re a good man, Xander Costas.” She pushed a hot mug into his hand and gestured to the sofa. “No matter how much you pretend otherwise.”
* * *
“I DON’T SUPPOSE you know some magical cure for grief.”
Calliope might have laughed at Xander’s question, but she knew he wasn’t joking. Curled into the corner of the small sofa overlooking the twilight cascading onto the winter flowers in the window box outside, she sipped her tea and took long, deep breaths. “Time. While I don’t care for the cliché, it is what finally heals. That and embracing the good memories. As I’m not sure we have anything committee-related to talk about just yet, will you tell me what happened?” She turned her attention away from the flora that called to her and faced the man who needed her. “To Alethea’s friend Talia?”
“An overdose. Six months ago. Opioids.” He rattled off some pharmaceutical name that gave her a headache. “She was a competitive swimmer. Her coaches thought she could get to the Olympics, but an injury sidelined her last year. Dislocated hip. Surgery. Apparently the pain was pretty bad. Hence the prescription. Which led to another prescription. And another doctor. And more pills.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. Calliope glanced at the mug in his hand he was trying to ignore. The look was enough to make the gentle suggestion and he sipped, frowned, looked into the mug, then sipped again.
“This isn’t bad.”
“Your compliments do make my head spin.” Calliope sipped her own tea and stopped fighting her growing feelings for him. Seeing him with her sister, being with him in the eucalyptus grove, talking with him—the connection between them was becoming stronger with every passing moment. And as much as she wanted to fight it, she couldn’t. She may as well attempt to hold back the tide.
“It happened fast,” Xander said after another moment. “Talia’s addiction. Lightning-fast. She was the sweetest kid. I can’t remember a time she wasn’t racing around the house with Alethea. Peas in a pod couldn’t have been tighter.”
“Sisters of the heart.” Calliope knew many of them, Holly and Abby for instance. The two had met in kindergarten and had been inseparable ever since.
“Our mothers are good friends,” Xander said. “They lived across the street from one another and Alethea and Talia were born less than a week apart. Talia was a surprise baby. Their only child. I can’t even imagine their pain.”
Yes, he could. Because Calliope could see it reflected in his own eyes. “You must have been what? About ten when Alethea was born?”
“Twelve. Awkward age for a boy to have a new sibling.”
“Yes, I’m sure you really suffered for it.” Calliope rolled her eyes. “She worships you, you know. More importantly, she trusts you. That’s why she came here.”
“I know.” He drank more tea. “I’m not sure if that’s a relief or if it terrifies me. How do I fix this, Calliope? She found her. Talia. She walked into the dorm room they shared and found her best friend dead.”
The pain in his voice scraped against Calliope’s heart. She reached out and took his hand, squeezed hard until he looked at her. “You can’t fix it. You can only do what you’ve been doing. You can be there for her. You can be her advocate and fight for what she needs. Not for what other people think she needs. Including you.”
He nodded and looked down at their clasped hands, stroked his thumb over the pulse in her wrist.
It was all Calliope could do not to shiver. This man’s touch confused her so much. He both soothed and awakened, comforted and excited. And she wanted it all. For as long as she could have it.
Because she’d known, from the second he’d arrived in Butterfly Harbor, that he wouldn’t stay.
“It might be wise to begin accepting things are going to change, Xander,” Calliope said. “Whoever Alethea was before Talia died, she’s different now. A trauma like this, it transforms them. You all need to embrace whoever it is she’s becoming. Whatever she wants to do. Disagreeing, fighting with her, telling her she’s wrong—the only thing that will do is drive her away. And you’ve already seen how far she’ll run when she feels trapped.”
“Almost sounds like you’re describing the stages of a butterfly’s life. Only she’s coming out of a cocoon not of her own making.” Xander lifted their hands and pressed his lips against the back of her knuckles.
“There are vast similarities. Life transforms us every day, Xander. Events shape us and mold us into whomever we are supposed to be.” And whomever we’re supposed to be with.
“Do you know before I came to Butterfly Harbor I don’t think I ever gave a thought to butterflies? Now I can’t seem to have a conversation without them.”
“They have a way of insinuating themselves into one’s life. Especially here.” And maybe now he had something to spark that imagination of his. “I need to head home. Paige will be bringing Stella home soon. Will we be seeing you at the beach bonfire Friday night?”
“Friday? Ah, no. I’m hoping we’ll be heading home no later than Thursday.”
Calliope uncurled herself and pulled her hand free of his. “We both have a lot to do in the coming days, then. Keep your eye focused on what’s important.” She handed him her mug, and she leaned down and brushed her lips across his forehead. “Good night, Xander.”
Before he could find his voice, she opened the front door and headed home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Xander jumped as Alethea looked over his shoulder, squinting at the ridiculous sketches he’d been scribbling for the better part of the last few days. Unfortunately—or maybe he had been lucky—Gil Hamilton had postponed their meeting, but the extra time had turned into a curse as panic and pressure blocked every ounce of creativity for the last two days.
Feeling as if he’d been caught reading his sister’s diary, Xander flicked the notebook shut and stood up to refill his coffee mug. “The mayor and committee weren’t exactly thrilled with the plans I showed them. I’m trying to come up with something new.” Something that would impress the red-headed committee of one.
“What did you show them?” Alethea riffled through the illustrations a
nd plans on the table.
“Antony threw something together for them. You know, just...”
“Oh, I know.” Alethea unearthed the drawing he’d shown Gil and Calliope at the diner. “Gee, they didn’t like this? I wonder why. Because it looks like everything else Antony comes up with? Not that there isn’t a market for designs like that. Just not...” She glanced over her shoulder to the sunshine-rich day. “Here. And this isn’t you at all.”
“You and Calliope really should start a club.”
Alethea grinned but ducked her head quickly.
“What?”
“I was just wondering if you realized your mouth does this funny twitch whenever her name comes up. Like you’re laughing at some private joke.”
“It does not.” He covered his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah, kinda does.” She sank back in the chair and sighed.
In the time since his sister had arrived in Butterfly Harbor, she had yet to get anything more than a quick breath of fresh air on the front porch. They were nearly out of tea, not to mention coffee and just about every morsel of food in the house. He’d actually found himself looking longingly at the last bundle of kale from Calliope’s garden.
Alethea’s conversation with their mother and brother hadn’t gone too badly. Xander had made a preemptive strike, calling beforehand to let both Antony and his mother know that Alethea was taking the lead from now on. She was an adult, she knew what she needed and if what she needed was time to figure out what to do in the short term, that’s what they would give her. And while Antony could browbeat him as much as he wanted about coming home where he “belonged,” Xander didn’t want to hear anything like that being thrown at Alethea.
“You must be going stir-crazy. I know I am.” Xander finally pushed out the thought he’d been keeping at bay. “How about we take a walk around town? Check out the diner for lunch? There are some great spots to shop for Christmas presents. I bet I’m ahead of you.” He gestured to the small gift bags on the side table.
Alethea blinked. “You shopped yourself?”
“I did.” It was a bit sad how proud he was about that. “Even bought you something. But you have to wait for Christmas.”
“Yeah. Christmas.” She winced. “I’m not really feeling the whole holiday-spirit thing.”
“I get that.” Xander decided against another cup of coffee and emptied his mug in the sink. “I still think you need to get out in the fresh air and sunshine. If Main Street doesn’t appeal, how about a farm?”
“A farm? Like with goats and pigs and cows?”
“Ah, no.” Xander laughed. “More like vegetables and honey bees and a meditative herb-and-flower garden.”
Alethea’s eyes narrowed.
“It, um, might be Calliope’s place.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense.” She heaved a sigh and stood up to stretch. “Okay, yeah, sure. I’m actually feeling a little hungry, too. Let me change and we can go.”
“Great. I’ll meet you in the main lobby. I need to verify my checkout time.”
“Your...what?” Alethea’s eyes went wide. “You’re leaving already?”
“Flying out the day after tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need to get you a ticket.” He really must be scattered not to have thought about that earlier.
“No.” Alethea shook her head. “I don’t want to go yet.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go home.”
“If this is about Mom—”
“No.” Alethea interrupted. “No, it’s not Mom. Or Dad or...” Her eyes filled. “I’m not ready to face them yet.”
“Mom and Dad?”
“Cheryl and Ross,” she whispered.
Talia’s parents. Xander’s heart squeezed. He’d never even thought...
“I promised them I’d look out for her. That she’d be okay. But...” Her voice broke an instant before she ducked her chin. “I just need a few more days to find the courage to see them again. Please, Xander.”
Not for the first time in recent weeks, he felt his life shift off course. He couldn’t very well deny her what she asked for when he’d insisted his mother and brother do the same. Besides, he’d already seen a change for the better in her since she’d come to Butterfly Harbor. Another few days might just do the trick. “Sure. Have you thought about what you want to do about school?” Finally, an opportunity to broach the subject of her future.
“I don’t know.” Alethea looked a bit panicked and more than a little sick. “I guess I thought you were out here for the long haul, you know? Until the project got off the ground. I didn’t realize you weren’t staying.”
Xander’s schedule for next week flashed through his mind. Meetings, mostly where he’d be pleading with someone, anyone, to give Costas Architecture a chance to prove themselves again. Lunches and dinners he couldn’t afford. With people whom he strongly suspected would rather be anywhere else than spotted in public with him. Canceling those meetings could be risky. Or maybe give him a chance to explore other...opportunities. Calliope.
“You really want to stay a little longer?”
“I do.” Alethea nodded. “I like this place, don’t know why, though. Does that make any sense?”
It did, at least to him. And maybe he could come up with the perfect sanctuary design after all. The pressure in his chest eased just a little, but enough that he felt he could breathe again.
“All right, then. In the meantime, how about we make a deal. I’ll extend our stay to next week, providing I can work some magic with the reservations, but you have to promise not to lock yourself away in here. I want you out and about, every day. I want you doing something, even if it’s just walking on the beach. That room is for sleeping. At night.”
“Can I cook?” Alethea asked.
“I don’t know, can you?” Xander had never thought of his sister as anything resembling a gourmet.
“Yeah. And I’m good. Talia and I took some cooking classes at this little place off campus. I really liked it.”
That his sister was embracing an activity that connected to Talia had to be a good thing, didn’t it?
“Then the kitchen is yours. I’ll move all this stuff into my bedroom.”
“Really?” Alethea didn’t look convinced. “You mean we can stay?”
“A few extra days might do us both some good. But I need to talk to Lori and Willa at the registration desk. But we have to leave by the twenty-third at the latest. Not only because Mom would never forgive us missing Christmas, but the inn is booked out for a wedding. We can’t interfere with that.”
“No, of course we can’t. I’m sure I’ll be ready to go by then. Thank you, Xander.” She ran over and hugged him. “You’re the best big brother ever.”
“Please make sure you tell Antony that when we get home. And make sure I’m there to see it. Now go change. I’d like to get outside before I forget what fresh air feels like.”
* * *
CALLIOPE SHIFTED THE basket she’d filled earlier that morning higher up on her arm. It wasn’t often she left her farm during the week, but a restlessness had taken up residence inside of her, a sensation she found could be eased with a walk and purpose. Besides, Stella was attending her school’s Christmas party with Marlie and Charlie this afternoon, which left her on her own. Lunchtime called, not for her, but for a friend who, whether she realized it or not, needed some attention.
Liberty Lighthouse Road was one of those forgotten parts of Butterfly Harbor. A section of town that had gone beyond overgrown and now bordered on jungle status. The chain link fence the city had put up before Stella had been born was rusted and sagged in places, tipping over in others. Portions had been removed to allow for passage down a narrow road wide enough for a car. If the current resident had a car, which she didn’t.
She ducked under the low-hanging branches and wound her way through t
he thickets of bushes and weeds. The increasing volume of the ocean drew her closer until, finally, she stepped out into the perfect sunshine-laden grove. And there stood Liberty Lighthouse in all her glory.
“The perfect hideaway,” Calliope whispered into the gentle breeze. “No wonder Kendall rarely leaves.” Which was why Calliope had decided to come to her. In the few months since Kendall Davidson had arrived in Butterfly Harbor, the former soldier had been one of those people Calliope simply couldn’t get a good read on. She was a lot like Calliope’s butterflies, flitting and darting away as soon as someone got too close. The question was, why? That said, if there was one thing Calliope loved, it was a mystery.
Not that Calliope didn’t know the particulars. The new arrival was a whiz when it came to construction, remodeling and restoration. The Flutterby cottages were testament to that. Kendall had served in the military with Matt Knight, Lori’s husband, who was actually responsible for Kendall’s initial visit to town in the first place. She’d been injured during her service, severely if the scars she carried were any indication. But it was the scars Kendall concealed that called to Calliope whenever she gave a passing thought to the woman.
It was a call that had grown louder since her encounter with Alethea Costas. Maybe it was her experience of that young woman’s pain that had her focusing on Kendall. Not that she expected to fix her, or coax her into talking about something she wasn’t comfortable with. But sometimes just knowing someone was around and willing to listen was enough to break through those barriers.
That idea was what had brought Alethea all the way across the country to find her brother.
The least Calliope could do was take a short walk to Kendall.
But now, as she stood just inside Kendall Davidson’s sanctuary, Calliope began to realize just what a talented and amazing woman she really was.
The last time Calliope had ventured near the lighthouse was years ago. Seeing what had at one time been a source of town pride falling apart brick by brick, chunk by chunk, had been too much for Calliope to bear. The sea-stained white paint had cracked and peeled away, exposing boards and siding to the elements. At times the tower itself seemed to be lilting, as if calling for help—help Calliope had no hope of providing.
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