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Caroline's back stiffened. "Maybe I should buy it on my own."
"That's a lot of money," Sam said, her voice calm, trying to reason with Caroline. "Do you have that much?"
"No, but if I used my inheritance from Mom, plus my savings as a down payment, I could probably get a loan for the rest."
Gracie was stunned. She'd never heard anything so ridiculous. That place was a money pit. Sam might have been thinking the same thing, but she put her hand on Caroline's. "Please, Caroline, don't rush into this. Let's talk about it more. Later."
"Maybe you and I can talk about it later, but it's pretty apparent Gracie's mind is closed."
Under the table, Gracie could feel Sam's hand come to a rest on her knee. She felt her sister squeeze lightly, offering her some comfort. Across the table she heard Caroline sigh.
Gracie hadn't wanted to ruin their evening, but it had suddenly come to an abrupt and distressful end.
Sam kept a close eye on Caroline as they sat across from each other at the kitchen table later that night. Gracie had disappeared into her room as soon as the dishes were done, and now the two of them worked together on a jigsaw puzzle of the Brant Point Lighthouse and munched on cinnamon and sugar-toasted walnuts that she'd roasted.
After the dinner, she wished she had never come up with the idea for the three of them to vacation together on Nantucket. Caroline and Gracie had two completely different personalities and had always clashed with each other. On the other hand, she knew they needed to be together. They needed to come to terms with their differences, accept them, and find a way to get along in spite of them.
Sam plucked a puzzle piece from the table and snapped it into place. She wished everything else going on in the cottage could be solved so easily.
Caroline was too quiet. So was Max, who was sprawled on the cool hardwood floor, eyes closed, twitching every once in a while. He must be having a bad dream; if things didn't get better, Sam imagined she'd end up with bad dreams too.
"I wish I knew why Gracie's so dead set against buying the inn," Caroline said, absently touching and inspecting one puzzle piece after another. Sam wasn't sure if she was looking for one piece in particular or just needed something to do with her hands.
"She enjoys her life just as it is," Sam offered. She couldn't possibly tell Caroline the truth. She knew Gracie didn't trust Caroline, that she was afraid Caroline would end up hurting both sisters if they went along with her scheme to buy the inn.
"Other than babysitting her grandchildren, she doesn't do anything other than read, watch old movies, and listen to her Beatles and Dave Clark Five records, as if she were still living in the sixties-"
"It makes her happy, Caroline. She's not like me and she's definitely not like you."
Caroline frowned. "You say that as if there's something wrong with me."
Sam laughed. "Do you have any idea how much I wanted to be just like you when I was growing up?"
From the incredulous look on Caroline's face, Sam could see she didn't. "Now you're just trying to placate me."
"I'm not. It's true. When you dropped out of college and took off for San Francisco to become a hippie-"
"It was Hawaii, and I was never a hippie, just a free spirit." Caroline snapped a puzzle piece into place. "And don't forget, I got a job running errands for a travel agent and worked my way up until I was running the place." She turned back to the box and began sifting through the pieces again.
Sam popped a sugary walnut into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "I thought you were the luckiest person on the face of the earth, traveling the world, seeing places I could only dream about."
"You were only ten or eleven. You should have been dreaming about birthday parties, or at the very least, David Ca.s.sidy. Ten-year-olds don't dream about traveling the world."
"That shows how little you know about me."
A touch of sadness crept into Caroline's face. She picked up a new puzzle piece and tried to fit it into the picture that was slowly forming on the table, turning it around and around, but she couldn't find the right spot. She sighed. "I should have come home more, or at the very least picked up the phone to call you all more often."
Sam reached across the table and clasped her older sister's hand. "We all could have kept in touch more. It wasn't just you, Caroline. I was busy with Jamie and teaching, and when I had free time, all I wanted to do was hole up in my living room and cross-st.i.tch or watch cooking shows. Mom kept busy with her gardening, and sewing, and reading clubs. And Gracie, well, Gracie was involved in the kids' sports and helping out in their cla.s.srooms, and now she's completely wrapped up in her grandchildren."
Caroline picked up another puzzle piece and fitted it into a puffy cloud hanging over the lighthouse. "Even though Gracie's upset with me tonight, I'm glad we're all together. It's been far too long."
"I just wish Mom could be here with us."
Caroline nodded. "Me too. Of course, she'd probably tell Gracie and me that we're acting like children, and that we should get over ourselves."
"And then she'd make you kiss and make up." Sam laughed. "And Mom would give me a cookie on the sly."
"You're kidding. Why would she do that?"
"Because I was such a good girl. Always."
Max rolled onto his back. He wanted his belly rubbed, and Sam leaned down to give him exactly what he wanted. It must be nice to have such a laid-back life.
Caroline's chair sc.r.a.ped across the floor as she pushed up from the table and headed toward the kitchen. She peeked down the hall, probably looking to see if Gracie's bedroom door was opened even a crack, but when she sighed, Sam knew the door was still closed tight.
"I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?"
"Sounds great . . . Just add two tablespoons of honey." That's the way their mother had always taken hers, and always in a dainty teacup, never in a mug.
Sam rose from the table, pressed her hands into the curve of her spine and stretched out the kinks. Max scratched at the French doors, and she let him out into the backyard. "If you did buy the inn," Sam said, "what would you do with it?"
Sam couldn't help but notice Caroline's eyes light up. She leaned against the counter that separated the small kitchen from the sitting room, and watched Caroline set two cups and saucers on the countertop.
"I'd do exactly what Mom wanted to do. Turn it into a B and B."
"Do you know how to do that? I mean, as cool as that sounds, you can't just snap your fingers and find it transformed from a run-down inn to a glistening B and B."
Caroline winked at Sam. "I may be free-spirited, and I may have a tendency to rush into things, but I know I'd have a lot of homework to do."
"A whole lot," Sam added. "The garden would have to be-"
"Pretty much gutted," Caroline interrupted. "The woodwork outside would have to be stripped of paint, sanded, and repainted. The inside would need endless amounts of cleaning, redecorating, and probably remodeling."
"And there's no telling what condition the wiring's in, not to mention the plumbing."
"Think of all the fun we could have making the inn look picture-perfect again."
"We?" Sam felt one of her eyebrows raise. She had to admit she was tempted by the idea of owning a B and B. She loved to cook, and now that Jamie was out of the house, she rarely made elaborate meals anymore. It would be kind of fun to come up with interesting and delicious breakfasts for guests all the time. But she wasn't about to rush into anything.
"Of course, 'we.' Maybe I could do it on my own, but I don't want to. I want you and Gracie to be a part of the inn. I want it to be ours, not mine. I want it to be Mom's too."
Caroline made it sound so easy, so idyllic. A place filled with memories. But she was overlooking the hard work that it would take. And she no doubt wasn't being realistic, especially when it came to money. The inn would cost a small fortune; fixing it up would cost even more; and running it . . . well, there was no guarantee the rooms would ever be filled with guests.
Sam spooned honey into her teacup, just as their mother had always done. She took a sip and thought about what it would be like to sit on the inn's back porch on a warm night like this, with a billion stars twinkling overhead, listening to the surf rolling back and forth on the beach. It did sound wonderful.
"You know," Sam said, "it might be a good idea to sit down and seriously discuss costs-what we'd have to spend up front to buy the inn, plus what it would cost to make repairs, clean it up, and make it habitable. There are bound to be permits too, and I'm sure there are rules and restrictions on preserving a historical property."
Caroline's face broke out into a smile. "So you're interested?"
"Not so fast. I-we-need to see the inside first. Let's not put the cart before the horse, okay?"
"I'll call the agent first thing in the morning. We can-"
"Going to see the inn isn't on Gracie's list for tomorrow. Why don't we wait a bit. A day or two, maybe."
"Oh, all right," Caroline said with a sigh, "but let's not wait too long. I'd hate for someone else to come in and s.n.a.t.c.h the inn out from under us."
Sam hated to hear the note of disappointment in her sister's voice, but knew she had to be completely honest. "If that happens, then buying the Misty Harbor Inn wasn't meant to be."
Gracie pulled the soft duvet up around her shoulders and squinted to see the time on the alarm clock next to the twin bed in her small room. It was nearly half past two. She hadn't slept a wink. How could she do anything more than toss and turn when she'd acted so childishly? She hadn't meant to hurt Caroline's feelings, but she obviously had.
Pale, silvery moonlight filtered in through the gingham curtains that hung over the room's small window. She could see the outline of the nightstand, the tall dresser, and the foot of the narrow twin bed. She closed her eyes and tried to stay perfectly still, but she couldn't stop the whirling in her mind.
She'd felt such tension when they'd been wandering around the inn's overgrown garden a few days ago. Now she knew why. The inn was destined to drive her and Caroline further apart.
She couldn't let that happen.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned. She'd had plenty of sleepless nights throughout her life: when her children were newborns and she continually sneaked into their rooms to peek into their cribs to make sure they were breathing; when her son and daughter, Brandon and Paige, stayed out past curfew; when Art was in the hospital, and she felt more alone than she ever had in her life. But this was different. This was her fault.
She and Caroline had been so different growing up, and the six-year difference in their ages hadn't helped. She loved her though. She always had. If she was honest, Gracie had always been a tad jealous of how Caroline could throw responsibility to the wind and do whatever she wanted, but mostly she had seen how that thoughtlessness had affected other people. She'd been hurt by it too many times.
Still, Caroline seemed to suffer more than anyone else when their mother had died. She'd felt guilty for not coming home sooner, and it wasn't even her fault. Gracie thought now that she should have ignored her mother's plea not to tell Caroline she was ill. She should have called Caroline and asked her to come home. She knew Caroline would have been on the next plane. Instead, she'd arrived after their mother had slipped into a coma. She hadn't been able to really and truly say good-bye. But Caroline had never once blamed Gracie. That wasn't Caroline's style. She was loving and kind and exuberant in all she did. And now Gracie had hurt her again.
Gracie climbed out of bed and drew a soft terry-cloth robe around her. As she stood up, she felt the touch of arthritis in her hip that plagued her every now and then. It was only two short steps from the bed to the door, and she opened it quietly, trying not to wake her sisters or Max.
She crept down the short hallway toward the kitchen. Her head hurt; the pain at the back of her neck had tormented her since the argument, and she needed something hot to drink and a couple of aspirin. If she could get rid of the headache, she might be able to sleep.
She saw a flicker of blue light from the TV reflecting on the hallway wall. Caroline's bedroom door was closed and the light was out. Was Sam still up?
Gracie padded down the hallway and stepped into the living room. Caroline was curled up on the sofa with Max, who was lying on his back, his four furry legs sticking up in the air. His eyes flew open when one of the floorboards squealed. He rolled over, his tail wagged wildly, and trotted toward Gracie, nudging her hand with a cold nose.
"Enjoying the movie?" Gracie asked softly.
Caroline smiled. "In between dozing off."
"How can you possibly sleep through Notorious?" Gracie pulled an afghan from the back of an overstuffed easy chair and curled up at the far end of the sofa. She covered her bare feet and Caroline's with the blanket. "You've seen it before, haven't you?"
"Once, I think. Probably with you."
"That's no surprise. It's one of my favorites, especially when Ingrid Bergman's on the phone and Cary Grant's kissing her." Gracie found herself sighing. It wasn't much of an apology, but maybe talking about something as nonconfrontational as an old black-and-white movie could ease the strain she'd caused between them.
"I like the beginning, when they're in the car and Bergman's driving like a maniac," Caroline said, tucking the afghan around her feet. "Cary's so calm and cool and looks handsome and sophisticated in his tux." Caroline swept her hands through her hair. "You don't still have a crush on him, do you?"
Gracie wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the handsome man on the screen. "Till the day I die, I'm afraid."
"Well, I have to admit, there aren't many men like him around these days."
"What about George?" Gracie asked, thinking about Caroline's longtime friend. She'd heard about him for years and met him at their mother's funeral, and she'd liked him instantly. "Don't you find him das.h.i.+ng and daring and devastatingly handsome?"
"I don't normally think of George as das.h.i.+ng or daring or devastatingly handsome, but"-a slow grin touched Caroline's face- "he's a mighty attractive best friend."
"I never forgot the day you called me from Istanbul and told me that you'd met this gorgeous guy inside the Hagia Sophia. 'He was studying one of the mosaics of Christ,' you said, and I could hear the thrill in your voice when you added, 'he was studying me too.'"
"That seems a thousand years ago," Caroline said wistfully. "That first day, I liked what I saw. He was humble and quiet, so different from other men I knew. I thought he was going to be the love of my life. But somehow, over the years, we've just stayed the best of friends, nothing more."
"Art was my best friend, but he was also the love of my life. The two can go together, you know."
Caroline tugged the afghan up over her knees. "I'll settle for friends.h.i.+p. Falling in love is easy, but staying in love is far too risky."
"Don't you ever want to get married?"
"That's even more risky than falling in love. I guess I'm not the marrying kind."
"Is George the marrying kind?"
Caroline frowned, as if she'd never given the question much thought. "We've never talked about it," she said finally. "We're usually off in our own worlds. He's got a business to run in Annapolis, and you know me-I rarely stay put for more than a couple of weeks at a time."
"But you're giving up the traveling, aren't you? Isn't that all a part of your moving back to the States and spending more time with family?"
Caroline avoided Gracie's gaze for the longest time. She seemed deep in thought. "I love to travel, but I want to spend more time with you and Sam-and George. And," she said, knocking lightly on her head, "I have thousands of travel tales stored in my brain. I could write articles and make money off them from now until doomsday."
Would she really stay put? Gracie wanted to give Caroline the benefit of the doubt, but she'd witnessed her sister change her mind about big, important things far too often. Still, she smiled at Caroline. "I'm glad you're coming home." She swallowed the emotion that had been building up for far too long. "I've missed you."
Caroline wiped away a tear racing down her cheek. "Me too."
The flickering light from the TV caused shadows to dance around the room.
Caroline pushed up from the sofa. "Want some cocoa? I picked up a can of instant stuff at the store yesterday. Might help us both get to sleep."
"No, I'm fine. Thanks." But she stood up and followed Caroline into the compact kitchen.
"So what do you have planned for all of us to do tomorrow?" Caroline asked, taking a freshly washed mug from the drain rack next to the sink. "Bike rides? Sport fis.h.i.+ng? Whale watching?"
"Actually, we're going to climb the Unitarian church's bell tower."
Caroline dropped the spoon she'd just taken from a drawer. She stared at Gracie as if she'd lost her mind. "Aren't there something like a hundred stairs?"
"Ninety-four, and they're pretty steep, but all the tour books say the view from the top is phenomenal."
"The drifting sand in the middle of the Sahara is beautiful too, if you're crazy enough to brave the hundred-and-thirty-degree heat."
Gracie grinned, easily imagining her sister traveling an ancient caravan route, oblivious to the s.h.i.+fting sands and the blazing sun. "You braved it."
"I was a lot younger then."
"Well, it's on the list. And . . . I've added something else to the list." Gracie took in a deep breath. She didn't want Caroline to get the wrong idea, but she knew what she had to do to make amends with her sister. "Why don't you call the Realtor to make an appointment to tour the Misty Harbor Inn. Just don't get it in your head that I want to buy it or even go in halves or thirds on the place with you and Sam. I'm just trying to-"
Gracie couldn't get out another word because Caroline threw her arms around her and nearly smothered her with hugs. She might live to regret putting the Misty Harbor Inn on her list of things to do tomorrow, but she'd never regret the love she was feeling from and for her big sister right this minute.