His Saving Grace

by Janice Carter

  “Go on.”

  “Someone from the Coast Guard has been here as part of a survey of lighthouses along the coast.”

  “Oh. Does the Coast Guard look after them?”

  “Yes, since the ’30s or so I think he said. Anyway, it’s in bad condition and he said it would probably be decommissioned.”

  “Which means what?”

  “It would no longer be their responsibility so it would be sold or torn down, depending on its condition.”

  “I see.”

  Grace grit her teeth. The conversation was almost as frustrating as the one she’d had with Drew. But at least her aunt hadn’t come out with a flat refusal. Yet.

  “I’d like to try to get the town to buy it and set it up as a memorial for Brandon, with a plaque and everything.” There was no response for so long Grace was certain her aunt had hung up. “My parents like the idea but want me to discuss it with you first—and Suzanna, of course.”

  “What would all this involve?”

  “The lighthouse has to pass a structural test before it can be sold. Then I plan to write up a proposal and take it to the next town council meeting. I’m hoping the council will agree to kick in some money but may expect public fundraising, too. It would be a long process and getting your okay is just the beginning.”

  She heard her aunt sighing. “Maybe you’d prefer to think about this a bit?” Grace suggested.

  “Yes, dear. I will definitely need to do that. You said you’d talk to Suzanna yourself?”

  Grace hesitated. Not having to face Suzanna about it would be a bonus but also inconsiderate. She deserved to hear about it firsthand. “Yes, I will. It’s best coming from me.”

  “Okay, then. Let me sleep on this and get back to you.”

  “Possibly by tomorrow?” Grace winced at her pushiness, but she was on a tight schedule.

  “Hah! There’s the Gracie I remember. Yes, dear, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  When she hung up, Grace was heartened by her aunt’s light chuckle. It’s happening. My project is taking off.

  * * *

  DREW KICKED HIMSELF for the ridiculous phone call. He knew he had to tell Grace his bad news in person, which had prompted him to take the days off. The problem was all the time he was talking to her he kept picturing how she’d look when he told her—the disappointment and hurt. Perhaps even an accusation that he’d misled her over the outcome of his report. He hadn’t, though Jim had certainly misled him.

  Perhaps he’d been foolish to take the days around the weekend. When would he tell her? Before, during or after they’d been having a good time? Or even worse, after a kiss? He doubted she’d want him to kiss her after she heard the news. A better plan would have been to go see her right away—tomorrow—and get it over with. At least he could use the days off to feel sorry for himself, alone in his own apartment.

  The problem was he wanted to see her. To be with her. Badly. To be in her presence and see that impish grin, the tousle of her curly dark hair when she refused to listen to reason and yes, even the way she frustratingly leaped from a simple comment he might make to an assumption. Drew knew in his heart that when he announced Jim’s verdict, she’d refuse to accept it. She’d forge on, amending her plan as needed if that’s what it took. But she wouldn’t give in.

  He ran his fingers across his scalp, massaging the stress headache he felt coming on. There were a couple of days left in the week before he returned to the Cove. Maybe he’d take another shot at Jim, try to dissuade him from his decision. Surely there was a way out of this mess.

  Drew smiled at the irony of the situation. It was the reversal of the one days ago, when Grace tried so hard to change his mind about tearing down the lighthouse. Now he was taking on her role, only with his boss. He hoped he could be as convincing as she’d been, though he knew her other attributes had factored into his decision. What miracle could he come up with to persuade Jim?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HENRY STROLLED INTO the store midmorning and waited patiently for Grace to finish up with a customer. As the woman left, he said, “I’ve come for Felix. And thank you for hosting him. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “Oh, he mewed pathetically all night,” Grace complained, smiling at the same time. She came from around the counter and hugged him. “How are you? How did the doctor appointment go?”

  He patted her on the back. “I’m good. The appointment went well and I’m on the waiting list for a hip replacement. I had a nice visit with my sister, though she may have to go into a retirement home.” He sighed, shaking his head. “That’s the tip of the slippery slope far as I’m concerned. Don’t ever put me in one, Gracie.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re going to be around pestering me for years.”

  Henry’s face sobered. “Think you’ll be here in the Cove for years?”

  The unexpected question took her aback. “Well, um...”

  He waved a hand. “No need to answer. I’ve never thought this situation here was permanent, though I’d hoped it might be.”

  He’d always been so good at reading her, even when she was a teen and couldn’t comprehend her own self. “It’s complicated,” she murmured.

  “Hah! Maybe not so much. My opinion is that people make things complicated as an excuse for not doing anything at all. Inaction. Waiting around for someone or something to compel them to act.”

  Grace grinned. “When did you get so philosophical, Henry? Come and sit down.” She led him to an armchair in the reading nook. When they were settled, she told him the recent development in her lighthouse quest—her father’s qualified approval.

  “Charlie gave in, just like that?” Henry was shaking his head in disbelief.

  The first time Grace heard Henry refer to her father as Charlie she’d been almost shocked. Everyone called him Charles, even her mother. But Henry had once told her he’d been in the same grade at school as her parents. Looking at his grizzled, potbellied self it was difficult to imagine him as a kid or a teenager. Imagining her parents and him hanging out together was even harder.

  “He seems different since his heart surgery,” she said. “I can’t pinpoint exactly how different, but less inclined to engage in an argument. He more or less said the project was up to me.” Then she gave a small laugh. “Everything is relative, isn’t it? He still lets us know how he feels about things. Loudly.”

  “Hard to believe, though I suppose aging is an inevitable change, much as we like to fool ourselves otherwise. So, you got the green light, then? What about Brandon’s family?”

  “Aunt Jane called me this morning to say okay. She sounded a bit doubtful, but I think she likes the idea of having a permanent marker for Brandon. She told me that she and Suzanna have been visiting Brandon’s gravesite in Portland regularly, at least several times a year.” Grace paused, recalling her aunt’s sad voice on the phone. “Especially on Labor Day weekend.”

  After a brief silence, Henry said, “Then it’s a go.”

  “I still have to talk to Suzanna.”

  “Oh. That might not be as easy.”

  “Why?” she asked, though Grace guessed what he meant.

  “I always got the feeling Suzanna thought she belonged somewhere else. Don’t know why. But she used to come into the store and walk around as if it was too small and shabby for her. As if she’d rather be some place more exotic.”

  Grace knew what Henry meant. “She used to make me feel like I wasn’t important.”

  Henry stared at her, then patted her on the arm. “That’s the young Gracie talking, not the woman she’s become. You were never kind enough to yourself, my dear. Too judging. Isn’t that what they say now? Judging is bad, even though we all do it.”

  “You’ve always been so wonderful to me, Henry. When I was a kid, I sometimes wished you were my father instead—”

 
“Hah! Don’t go there. Your parents love you more than you know.” He struggled to his feet. “Okay, got to fetch Felix now and get home.”

  “Stay here. I’ll go get Felix.”

  Much later, as Grace strode across the marble floor of her cousin’s hotel, she tried to ease her anxiety by replaying Henry’s words in her head. She wasn’t responsible for Suzanna’s temperament, but her sadness about Brandon was another matter. Grace forced her mind away from that thought. You can’t change what’s done had been her mantra since her therapy days, back in college when the full impact of that night hit her with a vengeance.

  At the check-in counter Grace told the receptionist—a young man wearing a Rohan name badge—that she was there to see Ms. Winters.

  “Is she expecting you?”

  “No, but I’m her cousin. Grace Winters.”

  “I’ll just ring her and see if she’s busy.” He pressed a button on the check-in counter phone and said, “Your cousin, Grace Winters, is here to see you.” Then he nodded and hung up. “She said to go on through.” He gestured to the office behind.

  When Grace opened the door, she saw Suzanna close the laptop on her desk. Her cousin’s face was pale and the dark circles under her eyes suggested stress. Grace remembered her mother’s comment about Suzanna’s marriage troubles. Probably this wasn’t the best time to speak to her. If her emotions were high already who knew how she’d respond to Grace’s request. Well, I’m here now.

  “Grace? This is a surprise.”

  “Sorry for the interruption. If you’re busy I can always come back.”

  “No, no, have a seat. Not busy. Just tired.” She rubbed her face. “Is everything okay with Aunt Ev and Uncle Charles?”

  “They’re fine. Um, I’m here to ask a favor. Well, not exactly a favor as such. But to ask you to consider a project I’m working on.”

  “Oh?” She frowned. “Something to do with the hotel?”

  Grace shook her head. “The lighthouse.”

  Suzanna leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desk. “What about the lighthouse?”

  “It’s going to be decommissioned by the Coast Guard. It hasn’t been functioning for ages, even before you came back. Anyway, Drew—remember him from dinner last Sunday?”

  Suzanna smiled. “I do. Very attractive and seemed like a nice guy. Are you two a couple, then?”

  “Uh...well...we’re friends. I don’t know about the couple part.” She could feel color rising into her face.

  “Oh trust me, I picked up on that almost immediately.”

  Grace bristled, wanting to retort, “If you did, then why were you so chatty with him?” but she knew how childish that would sound. “Anyway, Drew works for the Coast Guard and he was in town recently completing a survey of lighthouses along part of the coast.”

  “Really? Funny he never mentioned that when we spoke about lighthouses, here in the hotel or at your parents’ house.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t think it was relevant. As for Sunday dinner, I asked him not to mention what he was doing.”

  “Why was that?”

  Grace hesitated, already put off by her cousin’s tone. Too late. Just jump in and get it over with. “Because I wanted to talk to you about my idea first. Drew said when the Coast Guard decommissions a lighthouse, it’s either sold or torn down.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I’ve asked him if we can buy it and restore it.”

  “We?”

  “Maybe the town.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to erect a memorial to Brandon there, on the site.” She stopped then because her cousin was shaking her head back and forth, her pale face even paler now.

  “No way. Absolutely not.”

  “Don’t you want to hear my reasons?”

  “I don’t care about your reasons, Grace. It’s bad enough that I have to look at that thing almost every day. Why would I want to go there to see some...whatever you have in mind...memorial for my brother? It should be torn down!”

  “Then Brandon would really be forgotten. By everyone who knew him here and everyone who’s heard the story.”

  “My mother and I will never forget him and that’s all that matters.”

  Grace pushed on. “My family will never forget him either, Suzanna. I want to put up a plaque for everyone to see and to remember. I want him to be a permanent part of this town, where he was born and grew up.”

  “Until he was fourteen,” she snapped.

  Grace stopped, fighting back tears. Finally, she said, “The memorial isn’t just a reminder of Brandon, Suzanna. It’s a reminder to all of us who were on the beach that night. To everyone who picked on him at school. To everyone who gossiped afterward and said cruel things to...to some of the kids who were there that night. Even to anyone foolish enough to consider going out to the lighthouse when the tide’s coming in.” She took a deep breath. “Nothing is going to bring him back. I know that. I just want to see a tangible memory right here in town. For always.”

  Suzanna had dipped her head down partway through Grace’s speech. Now she raised it, her eyes wet with tears. “I understand what you’re saying, Grace. And I do remember some of the things people said after, especially about that friend of yours. The summer girl. Ella? If it weren’t for her...”

  “You don’t know the whole story, Suzanna. Nobody does.” Except for me, she thought. And Cassie and Ella.

  “I heard enough. It’s a good thing she and her family never came back here. I don’t know what I’d do. I’ll never forgive her.”

  Grace closed her eyes. She thought of her brother’s comment. This isn’t a good idea, Gracie.

  The silence in the office was broken by Suzanna’s hoarse whisper. “I can see this means a lot to you, Gracie. I’ll call my mother and see what she thinks.”

  Grace looked up, as surprised by her cousin’s use of her childhood name as she was by this unexpected concession. “I... I’ve already spoken to Aunt Jane, Suzanna. She agreed.”

  Her cousin’s face tightened. “Very shrewd of you, Grace. Or calculated. I wouldn’t have thought you’d have that in you.”

  Grace got to her feet. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I called Aunt Jane because she had the right to hear my idea first. My coming here was a courtesy, Zanna. Your mother’s approval is all I need.” She walked to the door. “And I’m sorry, for whatever personal issues you’re going through right now. You don’t deserve more bad luck.” She was about to close the door behind her when Suzanna spoke up.

  “Grace. Wait. I’m sorry if I seem unappreciative of your efforts. That you care. You’ve always been sweet that way. It’s just that I need time to process this.”

  “I get that. Let me know.” Grace left the office, unsure about her next move until Ben called to say his engineer was going out to the lighthouse to have a look at it.

  She stood at the top of the steps leading down from the hotel to Main Street and looked across the harbor to the lighthouse, a solitary signal post in the distance. This was the view Zanna gazed upon every time she left the hotel—a constant reminder of her loss. The brother she never got to know as an adult. Unlike Grace, whose relationship with Ben was sometimes fraught with childhood baggage, Zanna had no siblings to share family issues with.

  All because of her and Cassie. There was no way Grace could ever compensate for that moment of teenage ill-judgment—her failure to connect an act with a possible consequence. But she could atone.

  * * *

  DREW UNLOCKED THE door of his apartment and for the first time since he’d moved into it eight months ago, the utter loneliness of it hit him. There was no one to call out to, not even a cat to curl around his legs. He plopped his briefcase and laptop onto the nearest chair and clicked on the air-conditioning.

  He smiled at the thought of Felix, Henry’s elusive pet.
The cat didn’t need a lot of attention and seldom seemed to want it, but whenever Drew had settled into one of Henry’s armchairs, Felix invariably ended up in his lap. Perhaps a pet might be something to consider, given that there was no end in sight to any change in his solitary and cramped living quarters.

  Housing and rental units were pricey in Portland; hence the suburban sprawl to the northeast and Lighthouse Cove. The Winters family was sitting on a gold mine in development opportunities. He sighed. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t clear his mind of a Winters. Especially the one who meant the most to him. Grace.

  He loosened the collar of his uniform shirt and headed for the small bedroom to change. It had been a long day, complicated by his preoccupation with Jim’s decision about the lighthouse along with his return to the Cove. One more day. No matter how many scenarios he constructed in his mind, he couldn’t decide on the best possible time and place to talk to Grace. He planned to arrive early Friday morning because her guest author was due about ten and he didn’t want to sabotage the event by blindsiding her with bad news. Dinner perhaps? Then ruin the weekend for both of them? There was no good time, he realized.

  It was only later, after he’d exchanged his uniform for shorts and a T-shirt, and was sitting in his favorite chair, a cold beer in hand, that an irresistible idea occurred. He’d overlooked one sentence from Jim’s announcement about the lighthouse—you’ll have to convince me otherwise.

  There was still a chance to change his boss’s mind. He just had to come up with a very persuasive argument, one that wouldn’t jeopardize his chance at getting the group commander promotion, to get Jim to understand the importance of the lighthouse as a symbol. Not merely to a grieving family but to a whole town.

  In the few days he’d been in the Cove, Drew had heard and witnessed the effects of that past tragedy, not only on family members but on some of the town’s residents. He didn’t know all of the story—and doubted many people in town did, from what Henry had told him—but he did know how a tragic event can have an impact on people’s lives.