Still, why hadn’t she told him what she’d been going through? The teenage Ella he remembered wouldn’t have tolerated all that stuff, but then the adult Ella was someone he’d only begun to know. He’d gone up to his room right after driving her back. Later in the night, he’d heard the murmur of voices on the third-floor landing and guessed Grace and Drew were talking. He felt some sympathy for Grace, but at the same time, his sister had had many opportunities to tell her friends the truth. He just hoped she’d do the right thing now.
The house was dead quiet when he left. After a short warm-up in the driveway, he jogged toward the harbor. He’d gotten out of the habit of a daily run since coming back home. Too many duties had called for his attention, especially his new responsibilities for the family company and the people who worked there. Ben realized he’d slipped so deeply into a trough of apathy and self-pity since moving back home that he’d been unable to pull himself up enough to see over the top of it. But now he could, knowing he was actually in charge of the company and, most of all, that Ella was here. The boardwalk along the marina had been cleared for the recent winter-carnival events in town and the forecast predicted more snow over the next few days. Clouds were already forming in the sky above the highway and to the west.
When he reached the end of the boardwalk, he loped up to the road, following it along to where it ended at the beach. The terrain was rougher there, and icy. He tackled it gingerly, remembering Ella’s tumble last week, and stopping at the junction of dune and beach to catch his breath, he looked up. He wondered if she’d be able to dispel the memories that she’d mentioned last night. Similar memories had kept him awake for hours.
As he was about to head back toward town, he glimpsed movement on top of the dune. He craned his head to see a woman in a long black coat, peering down at him. When she realized she’d been spotted, she quickly drew back and disappeared. He recalled Ella’s remark the night of the tree lighting about the flowers she’d found up there, and he wondered if they were connected to the woman he’d just seen. He had a feeling Grace knew—or guessed—something about that she hadn’t yet revealed, in typical Grace fashion. After last summer, he’d thought there’d be no more surprises from his little sister...until she came up with the one that had the most impact on him: Ella’s return to the Cove. He waited a few seconds longer, but when the woman failed to reappear, he continued on his way.
The enticing aroma of coffee was the first thing Ben noticed upon opening his parents’ front door. The family was stirring, and he looked forward to breakfast before any serious talk with his parents and Grace about last night. He especially needed a calorie boost for his inevitable meeting with Ella later. He ran upstairs and headed for a shower in the bathroom he and Grace shared. The door to her turret room was still closed, so he moved about as quietly as possible, but by the time he emerged, shaved and showered, the door was wide open. No sign of her, other than the usual pile of blankets mounded in the center of her bed. Ben had to smile, thinking that the orderliness of a Coast Guard officer might inevitably clash with Grace’s more—well, to be kind—free nature where domestic duties were involved.
The first clue that the day wasn’t rolling out in typical fashion was that, except for coffee, there was no evidence of breakfast. His mother and father were sitting at the small table in front of the sliding doors leading to the terrace, and Grace was perched on a bar stool at the island. He guessed Drew was still asleep in the guest room. As he entered the kitchen, they all looked his way.
“Did you know anything about this, Ben?” Evelyn waved a newspaper at him.
While others throughout the Christian world may be singing that familiar carol this Christmas holiday, the voices of residents here in Lighthouse Cove, a former fishing village and now small town northeast of Portland, Maine, are raised in ire these days over the town’s expansion and current building projects.
Full disclosure, my family rented a cottage in this seaside village for several years, and for the most part, my memories of the Cove, as it’s affectionately called, are wonderful. I know something of its history and community, both of which are at the forefront of the current debate over a proposed condominium development.
A recent public forum on the permit application for the project in Lighthouse Cove was a textbook example of how a community can be split by insufficient or misleading information. The proposed condo design from Winters Building Ltd., a family company based in Portland and Lighthouse Cove, ticks all the boxes for affordable yet eco-friendly “green” living. The town is divided between the old-timers resisting change and the newcomers eager for the economic perks of growth—chain stores, increased property values, improved social services and so on.
But some residents in town, suspicious of new and innovative ideas that outsiders might bring with them, would prefer to keep the Cove exactly how it’s always been.
Community loyalty has clearly been shaken by the angry voices of those who feel that newcomers will bring problems rather than prosperity. Yet as one resident attending the public forum pointed out, “If people from beyond our town limits want to find a better life here, raising families and doing business with us or the folks in Portland, I say welcome. Bring us your new ideas and plans. We need them.”
Environmentally sound housing, new income and investments boosting business and local initiatives cannot be a bad thing for the Cove. Approving the Winters Building Ltd. proposal will ensure the town’s growth while preserving its pride in community—a pride that could be shared by newcomers and old-timers alike.
Isn’t the Christmas season meant to shine on all of our better selves? Welcoming others from a new community surely reflects that promise. People in the Cove would do well to heed that message and be open to change.
Ben stared at the paper a moment longer, waiting for his blurred vision to clear. When he finally set it on the island counter, he looked at his family. “I knew she was writing something for the Globe, but...” The words barely squeezed past the lump in his throat.
“It’s a nice piece,” his mother said. “Fair and gracious, considering how she’s been treated here recently, not to mention years ago.”
Ben glanced at his sister, who was peering into the coffee mug at her elbow. “Grace? What do you think?” When she raised her head, he saw tears in her eyes and thought how last night had ended for both of them—Ella’s confrontation and the knowledge that he and Grace had let her down, not just years ago but even these past several days. In spite of his natural impulse to protect Grace, he knew she didn’t need his defense anymore.
“Ella was right,” she said, her voice rising in volume as she continued, “I should have told people the truth long ago. I owed that to her, after what she did for me.”
“What do you mean?” Ben’s father asked, suddenly rousing himself from wherever his thoughts had taken him.
“That day when the police were talking to the kids who’d been at the bonfire, she could have told them right away that Cassie and I sent the notes, but she didn’t.”
“Maybe she didn’t know,” Charles pointed out.
“She guessed. I saw it in the look she gave us when she threw her note in the fire. But she never said a word. And I could have cleared everything up way back then, but I didn’t. I was afraid of the consequences.” She sighed. “Look where that got me—where it got all of us.” The bitterness in her voice lingered in the silence that followed.
“I need to go see her,” Ben finally said.
He was about to leave when his father spoke again. “Please apologize for us. For taking so long to acknowledge what we’ve known since July. And tell her thank you from me for what she wrote about our town.”
Our town. Ben resisted a smile at the hint of pride in his father’s voice—it brought back all the stories about the founding Winterses and all that lore he’d heard his whole life. He understood what it might have taken Charle
s—always the fierce defender of family honor and pride—to admit the family’s mistakes. “I will, Dad,” he said, patting his father’s shoulder on his way out.
* * *
ELLA DIDN’T KNOW if it was the insistent peal of her cell phone lying on the night table or the pounding below that had awakened her, as both seemed to occur simultaneously. Groggy with sleep, she sat on the side of the bed, waiting for her mind to catch up with her body. She’d lain awake most of the night, finally drifting off as the first gray fingers of daylight poked around the edges of the blinds covering the window in Grace’s bedroom. For a minute, she’d thought she was waking up in her own condo bedroom but then despair hit her. She was still here, in Grace’s apartment in the Cove, and she didn’t need to check her cell phone or look out the window to see who was banging on the door downstairs. Pulling her hoodie over her pajama top, she slowly negotiated the stairs. The knocking stopped as soon as she unlocked the front door, and Ben walked inside when she opened it.
Ella braced herself for whatever he might have to say after last night, but he placed a gentle hand on her arm. “We need to talk.”
“Come up. I’ll make coffee.”
He followed her up the stairs and into Grace’s small living room off the kitchen. Ella held up a hand when it seemed he was about to speak. “I need coffee first. Sit down. I won’t be long.”
She decided to use Grace’s fancy machine, found two pods and was carrying two mugs of coffee to him in less than five minutes. He was perched on the edge of the sofa, staring at his cell phone. “I just got a text from a reporter for the Portland Press Herald wanting to set up an interview about your article and my presentation at council the other night.”
“You’ve seen my column?” She continued to stand, mugs in hands, staring at him.
“This morning. It was picked up by the Press Herald.”
“Ah, well, I guess that makes sense. Those key words—Lighthouse Cove—got the attention of some editor. Local story and all that.” Her voice drifted off. She put the mugs down on the coffee table and sat beside him, waiting for his response to the piece.
“I liked it,” he finally said. “We all liked it. I thought it was fair and appreciated the shout-out for the company’s proposal.”
“We?”
“My parents—all of us. Dad said to say thank you for the support, by the way. And most of all, to say sorry for how he and Mom continued to blame you when they’ve known the truth for months.”
Ella wasn’t sure why, but that pleased her. Maybe Charles Winters wasn’t as scary in his old age as he’d seemed when she was a kid. She was also relieved that she hadn’t included the angry thoughts about the Cove’s community that had been in her head while writing. Had her piece compensated a bit for her behavior last night? she wondered. She hoped so.
But right then she realized Ben had more to say, as he ran an index finger back and forth across his forehead. She hid a smile, recognizing his adolescent tic, and felt her heart soften. She ought to start the conversation and give him a few minutes to get whatever he needed to off his chest.
“When I came here for the book signing, I wanted apologies—from Grace, for doing what she and Cassie did, and from you, for not having enough faith in me to stand up against what everyone in town believed about me after Brandon drowned, that I’d led him on, enticing him to the lighthouse at night to say goodbye to him.” She took a deep breath. “And you could have learned the truth back then, if you’d come to talk to me.”
He seemed about to interrupt, so she held up a finger. “I got the apologies and although I thought yours was a bit weak, I accepted your explanation about how confused and hurt you were at the time, thinking the note was real. I wanted to believe that you’d never really abandon me—not in your heart—and I began to think we might have a chance to put things right between us. I’m still hoping for that. The thing is, last night I realized apologies weren’t enough. They didn’t make up for what my family and I went through that Labor Day weekend.” She stopped to let her voice settle.
“I know you mentioned the whispering and snubs, but I guess I really wasn’t listening. I didn’t think about what you were feeling and I’m sorry for that, Ella.” He placed a hand on her cheek, drawing her close, and she closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his hands and arms, the worries and regrets of last night on the verge of disappearing, until she realized she needed to say more.
“I would have, Ben, but something held me back. I’m not sure how to explain it, just that every time I’ve referred to what happened that summer, I’ve sensed some kind of barrier between us. As if you didn’t want to talk about it. I should have pressed the issue with you, but maybe I didn’t trust that you’d understand how I felt then and now. Trust is what all of this is about, isn’t it?
“You didn’t trust in me when you let yourself be guided by rumors and gossip,” she went on. “Grace didn’t trust that people would forgive what she did, so she was afraid to tell the truth. That’s why I had to tell them how I felt, because I didn’t trust that Grace or your parents would speak up, even though I’m sure they’ve heard comments about me.” She stopped to catch her breath and, when she thought he might interrupt, pushed on. “And I didn’t trust either. That’s the problem with distrust. It’s contagious.”
After a long moment, Ben pulled apart from her. He tilted her face up to his and whispered, “So, how do we fix this, Ella?”
She gave a half smile at the anxiety in his eyes. “One day at a time?” was all she could think to say. Not that it mattered, because his kiss ruled out any further discussion.
He’d promised to see her later and after he’d gone, Ella wandered about the apartment, debating her next steps. Her plan had been to return to Boston the next day unless there was a compelling reason to stay in the Cove longer. Grace needed to move back into her place, and in spite of Ben’s reassurances that his parents would welcome her, she knew staying with them as a guest would be awkward.
But the simple truth was, that although she and Ben had talked about the turmoil and doubts of the past couple weeks, Ella couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was holding something back. When he’d kissed her goodbye, a flicker of worry had flashed so quickly in his face and eyes that Ella had decided seconds later she’d misinterpreted it. The problem wasn’t just Ben. She knew she herself hadn’t revealed everything from that night years ago—her treatment of Brandon when she realized she’d been tricked.
Although she hoped to see Ben later, Ella decided to pack for the inevitable return to Boston and was tidying the apartment when the thud of footsteps echoed up the stairs. She doubted Ben was coming back and had been mentally rehearsing another apology to Grace the whole hour since he’d left. She ought to have phoned Grace first thing that morning, avoiding the face-to-face confrontation that was about to happen.
The knock on the door was timid, boosting Ella’s anxiety slightly as she opened it.
Grace’s face was bright red, seemingly more from emotion than the cold. Before she said a word, she noticed Ella’s suitcase lying opened on the sofa. “Were you going to leave without saying anything? Not even a goodbye?” Her voice trembled with disbelief.
“Grace, sit down and we’ll talk.” Ella sat on one of the kitchen chairs while Grace removed her boots. Once her friend was sitting opposite, her winter coat unzipped and big eyes fixed on Ella’s, she said, “I’m sorry, Grace. I should have picked a better time and place for my big speech last night. I shouldn’t have ruined your party, but I just...I felt that I couldn’t continue to let things go. I needed to tell people what was happening. What had happened.”
“You said what needed to be said, Ella, and no one in my family faults you for that. If we’d still been close, the way we were before—”
“Cassie.”
“Yeah, before Cassie.” Grace’s sigh bounced around the small kitchen. “But I�
��m not here to blame Cassie. I took responsibility for my part last summer when I told my family the truth, but I didn’t go far enough. I should have told my friends and...I don’t know...asked them to spread the word. Make the rumors disappear. I see now that I took the easy way out.”
“It couldn’t have been easy for you at all, Grace. Confessing all these years later when you could have kept your secret for the rest of your life. No one would have been the wiser.”
Grace was shaking her head. “No, Ella. After I met Drew...when I knew I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, I realized that couldn’t happen unless I spoke up. I had no choice. I didn’t realize things were that bad for you these past couple of weeks, Ella. I’m sorry you had to endure all that. But you could have talked to Ben and me.”
Ella gave a loud sigh of irritation. “But we didn’t talk. None of us did. Not back then and not recently. There’s no point in rehashing all these ‘could haves’ or ‘should haves,’ Grace. We didn’t. Let’s stop beating ourselves up about it. Let’s just go from here. Start all over.”
“Can you do that, Ella?”
“I can. What about you? How do you feel about the town finally knowing your story?”
“I can handle that. I’m made of much stronger fiber than my family thinks, you know. The Grace Winters I am today isn’t at all like the one seventeen years ago.”
Ella felt a surge of affection for her old friend. “I disagree.” She smiled at Grace’s puzzled face. “Except for a few days that summer, you’ve always been a strong and compassionate person. Don’t ever think otherwise.”
The Christmas Promise Page 17
