Seaside Harmony Part 2

"It's actually not that much more than what Mom left us," Caroline said. "We could probably offer less. If we pooled our inheritance money-"

"No," Gracie said quickly. "That money is going to the kids."

Sam wished Gracie hadn't reacted so quickly or so forcefully, but she understood her sister's point. Their mother had managed to squirrel away a substantial amount of money in sixty years, and that plus her life insurance meant that the sisters had each inherited a healthy sum when she died. If they put their money together, it would come close to the asking price, but Sam had a.s.sumed she would save her portion. She was retired, after all, and it made her feel better to have something in the bank for a rainy day.

"Don't look at me that way, Gracie," Caroline said.

"What way?"

"With that full-of-doubt face. It's the same one you were wearing right after I graduated from high school and I told you I was going to hitchhike to Hollywood."

"You'd never acted in your life!"

"But I had dreams."

"Pipe dreams. If they had been more than that, you might have gotten to Hollywood instead of stopping at the end of our street and coming home again with a change of heart. And then suddenly you wanted to be an archaeologist."

"Okay, so Hollywood might have been a little far-fetched-"

"And I had to give up my dream to move into your bedroom and no longer share with Sam." Gracie attempted to laugh, but Sam knew it was halfhearted. "Hollywood was completely impulsive. So was archaeology, like so many other things you've done in life."

"If I wasn't impulsive, I wouldn't have traveled to nearly every corner of the earth. I wouldn't have done things or seen things that most human beings will never do or see in their lifetime."

"But they weren't long-term endeavors. You can pick up and travel to Timbuktu for one or two days and never get tired of where you are. But would you still be fascinated with Timbuktu if you had to stay there, sweeping out a dirt hut or whatever they do there, for months at a time? Maybe years?"

"I know what you're getting at, Gracie. You think I have zero stick-to-itiveness."

"I don't think, Caroline. I know."

Sam stood up quickly and started gathering the plates. "Who's ready for some dessert? I made a blueberry crisp, with berries fresh from the farmers' market."

Neither of her sisters responded. Caroline's short blonde hair, so different from the long blonde braid she'd had the last time they'd seen each other, whipped around when she looked up at Sam.

Sam supposed it had to have happened sometime. Those two had fought like cats and dogs when they were kids. Maybe this fight had been building for a long time. But she also knew it was a ridiculous fight. Caroline was just dreaming. She wasn't serious about buying the inn-not serious enough to see such a huge project through anyway. Surely Gracie could see that.

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming, Gracie," Caroline said quietly.

"No," Gracie finally exhaled. "I guess there's not."

At long last, Caroline laughed. Gracie stared at the table and slowly but surely, as Sam had hoped, managed a smile.

"There. That's much better." Sam dropped the dirty plates on the granite counter just inside the French doors and came back out with a dish of warm blueberry crisp. "Now, please tell me you have all of the aggression completely out of your system, and that I won't wake up tomorrow morning having to clean up blood," she said as she used a big spoon to scoop the crisp onto fresh dessert plates.

Caroline brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's a promise."

Gracie was a little more reluctant, but at last she came around. "Sorry." She reached across the table and squeezed Caroline's hand. "I guess it's just hard . . ." She let her voice trail off.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked.

Sam readied herself to play peacemaker again. "This blueberry crisp is delicious, if I do say so myself," she said. Then she noticed that neither Caroline nor Gracie had touched theirs.

Finally, Gracie spoke up. "What do you say we go in and watch the movie?"

"You can't make a statement like that, Gracie, and then ignore me when I ask what you're talking about," Caroline said.

"It's nothing," Gracie said, picking up her dessert plate. "I'll finish this inside."

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Caroline asked Sam, after Gracie slipped through the French doors and went into the house.

"I don't know," Sam admitted, "although . . ." She shrugged.

"Oh no, you don't," Caroline said. "Gracie might have gotten away with ignoring me, but you can't start a sentence with although and then drop it. Although what?"

Sam sighed. She hated to tell tales, especially about Gracie, but it was high time Caroline knew some of what was going on in Gracie's head. "She had a really tough time after Mom was diagnosed with cancer. I was still teaching, and even if I hadn't been, I would have had a ten-hour drive to get to Portland, so most of the burden fell to Gracie. She had to do everything for Mom. The last couple of months were especially bad-"

"I would have come sooner if I'd known."

"Yes, but Mom didn't want you to know."

"Why not?"

"Because you had such a tough time handling Dad's death."

"So did you; so did Gracie."

Sam remembered picking Caroline up from the airport two days after their father pa.s.sed away. She'd flown in from Prague. She'd spent the hours before her flight inside St. Vitus Cathedral, praying for their father to survive. She hadn't slept a wink since their mother had called her with the news. Caroline's once-pretty blue eyes were rimmed with dark circles, and her cheeks were hollow. She looked like she'd aged ten years in the six months since they'd seen each other. And then she couldn't eat; she wouldn't eat.

"You were a mess, Caroline." Sam took a bite of the warm crisp.

"Yeah, I guess I was. Not just during the funeral, but for the next few months. But we were a lot younger then, and Dad and I had been so close when I was little. Still"-Caroline sighed-"I loved Mom. I would have done anything for her. I should have been given the chance to come back to the States to help out. Gracie should have told me she was so sick." Caroline stabbed at her dessert with her fork.

"You were there the last month. That's all that matters."

"But if Gracie resents-"

"No, Caroline, that's not it at all. Gracie doesn't resent you, but really . . . I'm the wrong person to explain Gracie's comment. That's between the two of you. Now come on"-Sam picked up the plates left on the table-"help me clean up this mess. Then let's get into our pj's and watch a.r.s.enic and Old Lace. It's been a long day, and I think we all need a good laugh."

It was nearly ten thirty that night when Sam's cell phone rang. She'd just climbed under the crisp floral sheets on one of the two twin beds in her room at the cottage. She was comfy and cozy, but she rolled over to grab the phone off the nightstand and answered it quickly. She smiled when she heard her daughter Jamie's voice at the other end. Jamie's father had been out of the picture for a long time, and Sam had always been especially close to her daughter.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Oh no. We just finished watching an old Cary Grant movie and I'm stuffed on extra-b.u.t.tery popcorn and M&Ms. I'll probably have a headache in the morning, and I'm sure my ribs are going to ache from laughing so hard."

"Sounds like a great way to start your vacation."

Except for the argument between Caroline and Gracie, but Sam wasn't about to tell Jamie about that.

"Is Aunt Gracie relaxing?" Jamie asked. "Or at least trying to relax?"

"You know that doesn't come all that easily for her."

"She hasn't kicked back since Grandma got sick." Sam could hear the worry in Jamie's voice. "She runs herself ragged taking care of Evelyn, Zachary, and Jacob, when really, Mom, Brandon and Stacy could afford day care."

"But she enjoys it, Jamie. Her grandchildren are her life."

Jamie laughed, a bit too cynically. "Then remind me not to have any children, because I don't want you becoming a glorified babysitter-"

"I want grandchildren. Lots of them. But you know I'm in no hurry. You also know that I like living my own life. I'm enjoying retirement," she said emphatically, although she still missed teaching first and second graders. She just didn't want Jamie to know how much. "And you know I'd do anything in the world for you. That includes babysitting. Of course, I'd rather have you raise your children the way I raised you. If I wanted to go somewhere, I took you along-"

"Unlike Aunt Gracie, who still doesn't go anywhere."

"I promise. I'll try to get her to relax while we're here."

"Don't let her make any lists."

Sam smiled. "She already has. Gracie and I are going antiquing tomorrow, right after I make breakfast for the three of us. She has bicycle rides planned, museum tickets bought, and beach days slotted in."

"What about Aunt Caroline? Isn't she going antiquing with you?"

"She bowed out. Said she has an article to work on and thought she'd hole up in the cottage by herself to get it done and out of the way."

"Have you asked her to stay in the States yet?"

"I have to figure out how to bring it up."

"If you don't work up the nerve, she'll end up right back on a plane to England."

"I know. I just don't want to make her uncomfortable. I don't want to make her feel guilty for living so far away from us."

But she so wanted her sister to stay in the States. She adored Caroline. She'd idolized her when they were growing up, and now she wanted her closer than a phone call away.

Sam tried to stifle a yawn and then gave up. She snuggled her head into a comfortable position on the big down pillow, listening to Jamie talk about her latest research. Jamie was working on a master's degree in American history and was focusing on early American myths and legends, and though she was done with cla.s.ses for the summer, she was working hard on her thesis. When her daughter grew quiet, Sam asked, "Are you still planning to come to the island for a few days?"

"Actually, that's what I called about. I've managed to rearrange my schedule, so I'm going to come next Monday. Will that work?"

"It'll work perfectly. And Cory is okay with you leaving?" Sam asked out of politeness, not because she cared what her daughter's snooty boyfriend thought.

"He wishes I would stay, but I wouldn't miss it."

"I'd ask you to bring him along, but this is an all-girls' house and a girls' getaway."

"He's so busy studying for the bar that about all we do together anymore is grab a cup of coffee close to his apartment-if he can squeeze me into his day."

Jamie deserved so much more than a twenty-seven-year-old up-and-comer who yearned for a corner office in a tall building on Fifth Avenue. Cory was tall and tan and good-looking-a product of an Upper West Side New York upbringing. He thought Jamie's flat in Brooklyn was a shabby hole-in-the-wall. Truthfully, Sam felt the same way, but Jamie loved her apartment and the mishmash of treasures she'd found in one thrift shop after another. Sam knew, with all her heart, that she'd raised her daughter right. She'd make the right decision about Cory when the time came.

"Mom." Jamie said, her voice soft, barely a whisper.

"What, hon?"

"I can't wait to see you."

"Ditto," Sam said. They disconnected, but as she burrowed down into the pillow again, she was kept awake counting worries instead of sheep. Something was troubling her daughter, but what? Why was Gracie so p.r.i.c.kly? And what on earth had possessed Caroline to suggest they buy the Misty Harbor Inn? It was such a ridiculous idea. Then again, she thought of all the wonderful dessert recipes she could try out on guests. At last she had something sweet to think about as she fell asleep.

Max trotted at Caroline's side the next afternoon, weaving in and out of hundreds of other tourists who strolled along Main Street's cobbled road, buying souvenirs, licking ice cream cones, and enjoying the azure blue sky and the hint of a breeze.

"I'm so glad the two of you dragged me away from the article I was working on," Caroline said to Sam and Gracie, who'd insisted she join them for a jaunt through antique stores. "Just remind me to get it finished tonight. My deadline's a week away, but I'd like to send it off so I can spend time with you."

Gracious oaks arched above the brick sidewalk, and dappled sunlight filtered down onto the sisters as they walked. Caroline breathed in the sea air and took in the sights and sounds around them.

"Working late at night is the only thing I haven't missed since I retired," Sam said. She wore a flowing, calf-length white skirt, a poppy-pink T-s.h.i.+rt, and a necklace made of gleaming pearl-white seash.e.l.ls. "I do miss my first and second graders. Still, I'm glad I retired. If I hadn't, right now I'd be teaching a summer school cla.s.s and wis.h.i.+ng I was at the beach. And I definitely wouldn't be with the two of you."

"No doubt you'll be tired of us long before the first week of our vacation's gone by," Gracie said, turning off of Main onto Center. The shops on this street were housed in small, quaint old buildings, brick and wood with large paned windows. They were headed toward India Street, where there was an antique store Gracie wanted to check out.

"I'd never get tired of the two of you," Sam said, the sun s.h.i.+ning on her smile. "Listening to you bicker makes me feel like a kid all over again."

"And being here makes me feel like a kid all over again," Gracie said pausing at the window of a stationery store. Gracie seemed taken with a set of letterpressed cards, but all Caroline could see was really expensive paper. Who sent handwritten notes these days anyway? She sighed, and they moved on. Max watched, transfixed, as Sam licked a drip on her ice cream cone that threatened to spill over.

"Wouldn't it be amazing to live here?" Caroline said, drinking in the scents of hydrangeas and fresh sea air.

"You'd never leave your cottage. You love living in Chipping Campden."

Caroline smiled as a little boy rode past them on a red two-wheeler. His parents followed several steps behind. "I've been thinking of giving it up."

Sam stopped so quickly she might have run into an invisible brick wall. Gracie's steps slowed and finally she turned to stare at Caroline. "But . . . you love that place."

"I do," Caroline said, already feeling a lump building in her throat and tears welling up in her eyes, "but it's never going to be mine, not really. Every time I've talked with the owners about buying it, they give me the same old song and dance and say 'Someday . . . maybe.'" Caroline shrugged. "I'm tired of waiting for someday to come."

"Are you serious?" Sam wanted to believe it, but she knew her sister too well.

"I think so. For the first time in my life, I feel like settling down." Caroline couldn't miss the roll of Gracie's eyes. "I know you don't believe me," Caroline said, nudging Gracie's arm, "but it's true. I've felt that urge more and more since Mom pa.s.sed away."

Sam leaned over a picket fence to inhale the heady perfume of a delicate white rose. She turned toward Caroline, looking a touch troubled. "Are you coming back to the States?"

"You should come back to Maine," Gracie said. "Not that I can imagine you living there again, after all the times you used to tell me that when you grew up you were going to split, leaving humdrum old Maine behind."

"Maine's beautiful, but, no, I don't think I'll be going back there."

"There's a town house for sale down the street from mine," Sam said, smiling again. "The housing prices in Upstate New York are the lowest they've been in ages."

"Whoa! Slow down!" Caroline said. "Right now, nothing's settled. I might go to Annapolis, at least for a little while. George's boat building business is doing well, and he has a small yacht he said I could live in until I find something permanent."

Sam gave Gracie a meaningful look.

"Oh, stop it. George is just a friend. Always has been, always will be."

"If you say so," Sam said, her eyebrows raised.

"Could you really live on a boat?" Gracie asked. "Wouldn't you feel cramped?"