14
B
y Tuesday afternoon I was finding it difficult to suppress the smile that kept appearing on my face. It had been a while since I'd felt so good. I had been at the yarn shop earlier and saw the archway to the needlepoint shop almost completed, and Worth had done a wonderful job with it. So the work was moving along on schedule, and that gave me cause to be happy. Although I had no idea what might happen, if anything, I was also happy about my friendship with Worth. I liked him and I liked being with him.
I had just filled the washing machine with towels and turned it on when the phone rang. I answered to hear Victoria's voice. “How're you doing?” I asked.
“Okay, but I'm afraid Sam is having difficulty understanding that Maybelle is gone. He really enjoyed spending the summer with her.”
“I can understand that. Death is difficult no matter the age, but for kids, even more so.”
“I was calling to let you and your mother know that the memorial service will be held on November sixteenth. It's a Saturday, which I thought might be more convenient and not too close to Thanksgiving. Is your mother at home or at the shop?”
I glanced at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. “Okay,” I said and saw it was three weeks away. “And, yeah, my mother's still at the shop.”
“I'll give her a call there with all the details, but the memorial is being held at Maybelle's house in the garden near the water. It's what she specified in her will.”
I thought of the ideal location of Maybelle's property and smiled. “She was right to choose that. Safe Harbor is the perfect place to remember her. Have you decided yet what you're going to do with the house?”
There was a pause before she spoke. “I haven't said anything to anybody yet . . . but yes, I'm going to put it up for sale. With a young son and a business to run up here in New York, I just know I wouldn't be able to get down there much to use it, and that's not right. Somebody could be enjoying that house. I think Maybelle would have wanted that. But, Marin, do me a favorâdon't say anything to anybody. I'd rather the word didn't get out just yet.”
I will never be able to explain why, but before I could even stop myself, I blurted, “I won't say a word if you promise to do me a favorâplease don't list the house with a Realtor until you offer the sale to me first.”
“Absolutely,” she said, and I heard the surprise in her voice.
After hanging up with Victoria, I brewed a pot of coffee, poured myself a mug, and went outside to sit on the patio. I still had no idea why I had made that request to Victoria. I'd known the house might go up for sale but hadn't given much thought at all to actually purchasing it. Until that moment on the phone. Did I really want to buy Maybelle's house? I hadn't even seen it since I was a teenager. God only knew what it looked like inside. I glanced up and noticed a swarm of dragonflies hovering in the air near the fence. It had been ages since I'd seen any. For some reason they seemed to come to the island only sporadically. At the same time I noticed the dragonflies, I heard the radio in the kitchen begin playing an old song from the fifties that I also hadn't heard in ages, “It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels,” by Kitty Wells. The wind had increased, coming in from the water, and I shivered as I listened to the words about married men thinking they were still single. I let out a deep sigh and got up to go back into the house.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I took the last sip of my coffee and knew what I had to do. Finding the phone number on the paper in my handbag, I placed a call to Fiona Caldwell. My hand gripped the phone as I heard the rings and then a female voice saying hello.
I hesitated before inquiring, “Is this Fiona Caldwell?”
“Yes. Who's calling?”
The voice was soft, with an annoyed tone. The one we use for telemarketers.
I cleared my voice. “This is Marin Kane. Your . . . father's wife. James Coburn, the attorney, said you wanted to speak to me.”
I heard a surprised gasp from the other end of the line, and the annoyed tone was now replaced with excitement, as she said, “Oh! Thank you for calling me. I wasn't sure that you would. You know . . . under the circumstances and everything.”
“What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” I knew I sounded abrupt but couldn't help it.
“Yes . . . well. How did my father pass away? Was it an accident or had he been ill?”
“A heart attack. He had been teaching a class at the university and collapsed. It was quite sudden.”
There was a pause before she said, “I see. I'm truly sorry for your loss, and I can only imagine what a shock it was for you to learn about me. At least I always knew I had a father out there somewhere.”
“What exactly had your mother told you? And . . . I'm sorry for the loss of your mother.”
“Thank you. I was only told that he was married, that she hadn't seen him since before I was born, and it would serve no purpose for me to know his name or where he lived. So he lived in Florida?”
“Yes, Gainesville,” I said and couldn't help but feel Bianca Caldwell had maintained an aloof attitude toward her daughter where it concerned Andrew.
“Do I have any siblings? I'm an only child, so I've always wondered if maybe I had any sisters or brothers. Well . . . half sisters or brothers.”
“You do,” I said as a wave of guilt came over me for not yet telling Jason and John about their half sister. “You have two brothers. Andrew and I had two sons by the time you were born.”
“I do?” Even across a phone line it was easy to detect an increased excitement in her voice. “So they're older than I am?”
“They are. Jason is twenty-four and lives in Atlanta, and John is twenty-two and lives and works in Boston.”
“Boston? I'm in Marblehead, just north of Boston. Oh, my God! Who would have thought I had a brother living so close. Are they married, any children?”
“No. They're both still single . . . and they don't know a
thing
about you.” The sarcasm in my tone slipped out before I realized it.
“Oh,” I heard her say. “Yes, of course. I can understand that. So, ah . . . they're never going to know about me? Is that what you're saying?”
I heard a bit of defiance in her question. “No, I didn't say that. I just haven't told them anything yet. They'll both be home for Christmas. I was planning to tell them then. Do you have any other family? On your mother's side? Grandparents or aunts and cousins?”
“No. Nobody. My grandparents both died when I was small, and my mother was an only child. So . . . it's just me.”
So this girl truly was an orphan, but I refused to allow my emotions to rule the conversation. “Do you know how they met? Your mother and Andrew?”
“She told me she met him when she was teaching a summer course in Amherst. My mother had a degree in business and was teaching economics. She was twenty-six when she had me.”
So Andrew was about eleven years older than Bianca.
“I see. And you're in college?” I questioned.
There was a pause before she said, “I was. I finished my freshman year at BU, but I didn't return for this semester.” Another pause before she said, “I needed some time off.”
I wondered if the reason had anything to do with finances or perhaps the fact that she had lost her mother the previous spring. “Do you work?” I asked. I felt like I was being nosy but assumed if Fiona didn't want to answer, she wouldn't.
But without hesitation, she said, “I'm working at a restaurant in Marblehead. Just waitressing. Maybe I'll return to college next year. What I really wanted to speak to you about”âand another pause came across the lineâ“was . . . I was wondering . . . if it might be possible to come down there and meet you and my brothersâhalf brothers. I mean, I know you said they don't know about me yet, so we could wait until after the first of the year. You know . . . until you've told them about me.”
I certainly was not prepared for this. Okay, I could understand her wanting to meet Jason and John, but she could travel to Atlanta and Boston to accomplish that. So why me? I wasn't related in any way to this girl.
“Oh . . . well . . . I'm not sure the boys will even be back here after Christmas.” I felt myself stammering for something appropriate to say. I was at a loss for words and annoyed that she was directing this request at me. “Listen, let me think about this. Let me explain the situation to the boys at Christmas and see what their reaction is. And then . . . maybe we can arrange for you to visit if they'd like to meet you and can manage a return trip to Cedar Key.”
Silence came across the phone.
“Would that be okay?” I questioned.
“Yes,” I heard her say softly, knowing I hadn't given her any other option. “Okay. Then that's what we'll do. I'll wait until you call me back after the first of the year.”
I said good-bye and hung up the phone, and it was then it hit me that during our entire conversation Fiona had not mentioned money or the account Andrew had set up for her.
15
“S
o what did you tell her?” Chloe asked as she continued stocking the cubbyholes with a new shipment of yarn.
“I told her I wasn't sure that would be possible. I mean,
really
. I don't think I should be expected to meet Andrew's love child. I only called her to get some information so I could make a decision about signing the documents. So I told her I'd need time to think about any possible meeting, and she did seem to understand.”
Chloe nodded but remained silent.
“What?” I asked. “Do you think I'm wrong?”
“No,” she said, tossing the empty box into the back room. “Not wrong if that's how you feel. How'd Fiona feel about the boys?”
“She seemed excited to learn she had two half siblings.”
“Hmm,” Chloe mumbled. “And . . . have you made a decision about signing those documents?”
I straightened the knitting needles hanging on the rack as I rearranged the correct sizes. “God, why can't people replace the correct size where they belong? It's such a nuisance going through them every day to keep them in the right place . . . and, no, I haven't made a decision yet.”
I had a feeling that Chloe was thinking if I met Fiona in person it might help, but I didn't want to discuss it further. I turned around to see Berkley enter the shop with another woman.
“Hey,” she said. “I wanted to bring Resa over so she could meet you guys. I'd like to introduce Resa Campbell . . . the proud new owner of the Cedar Key Bed and Breakfast.”
“Wonderful,” I said, extending my hand. “I'm Marin Kane and this is Chloe Radcliff. Congratulations.”
“And welcome to Cedar Key,” Chloe told her, also shaking Resa's hand.
“Thank you. It's not quite official yet. Jake and I made the offer this morning, but Ali accepted right away. So we have to get with the Realtor and do all the paperwork next week.”
“I hope you'll enjoy living here and running a business,” Chloe said. “I'm sure it'll be a bit different from Seattle.”
Resa laughed. “Yes, that was the point of relocating. Jake and I both wanted to live in a smaller town. He's going to be joining a pediatric practice in Gainesville and eventually hopes to open his own. And I'm just thrilled to finally be living in the same town as my dad.”
Despite the years apart from her father, she did seem quite excited about their reconciliation. I wondered if Fiona held any animosity toward Andrew. As far as I knew, he had played no role in her life, except financially, and she had only recently found that out.
“Any chance you're a knitter?” Chloe asked.
“I am, and that was another reason Berkley brought me by. I'd like to get some yarn for a sweater.”
“Great,” I said. “And you'll have to join our knitting group tomorrow evening. We meet every Thursday about seven.”
“Yeah, Berkley had mentioned that. Oh, what's that yarn?” she asked, walking toward skeins of cranberry, pink, and black.
“That's the Cascade Ultra Pima Quatro. One hundred percent pima cotton. Nice for a sweater to wear in Florida.”
“I love it,” Resa said, heading to the book of patterns. “Now I'll choose something to make.”
I shook my head and laughed. “I wonder how many women choose the yarn before they decide on a pattern or if they do it in reverse.”
“Hmm, good question,” Berkley said.
“It's kind of like, which came firstâthe chicken or the egg? I'd bet it works both ways. How do you choose?” Chloe asked me.
“Actually, you're right. Depends on my mood, I guess, and which I see firstâthe yarn or the pattern.”
“Marin, have you got a second?”
I spun around to see Worth standing in the archway.
“Sure,” I said, following him into the next room. “What's up?”
“Well, I'm afraid we have a bit of a setback. I had really hoped that ceiling light would arrive today. The archway is finished, so I was planning to begin on the light tomorrow.”
“But?” I questioned.
“I just got a call from Home Depot. They haven't gotten it in yet, and according to the distributor it looks like it'll be another week.”
“Oh.” I felt my heart sink. “So will this put us behind quite a bit?”
Worth shook his head. “Not really. It shouldn't. I'll probably have it by next Wednesday, and in the meantime I can do some more sanding of the walls and getting everything ready for painting. Speaking of which, have you decided on a color yet?”
“No. I thought I'd go to Home Depot myself and see what I might like. I also want to look at a border print for the top of the wall. Geez, now that I think about it, I guess I'd better get moving. I also need to choose some furniture and go through the catalogs to order my stock.”
“I can't help you with the stock, but I'd be more than happy to go into Gainesville with you to choose paint and paper.”
“Oh, that would be great.”
Not to mention, it would also be fun,
I thought.
“I have an idea. Do you think you could be free on Saturday, or will you be working?”
“I'm off this Saturday.”
“Good. I'll pick you up about eleven. We'll go to Gainesville, do the shopping, and then go to my place for a late lunch. How's that sound?”
Perfectly divine.
“Like fun. Okay, it's a plan.”
Â
I stopped at the chocolate shop on the way home to replenish the supply for me and my mother.
“Hey, Berkley,” I said, and my gaze was caught by three beautiful iridescent dragonflies hanging from a rack on a table filled with crystals and other gems. “Oh, gosh. That's pretty.”
“I know. They're done by a local artist and they're for sale.”
I walked over to get a closer look. They really were gorgeous. I lifted a finger to touch one, and although there was no wind in the shop, a chill went through me, causing a shiver.
“What is it about dragonflies?” I asked.
A smile crossed Berkley's face. “What do you mean?”
I removed a turquoise one from the rack and held it in the palm of my hand. “Aren't they supposed to mean something?”
Berkley came to stand beside me and nodded. “Yes, dragonflies are very special creatures that have a lot to teach us. They rarely make it to old age, so they understand that time is short and they live life as though today may be their last.”
I ran my finger along the delicate wing. “Kind of like
Seize the day
?”
“Exactly. They also symbolize renewal and a sense of self that comes with maturity. So they represent change.”
“Interesting.” I passed her the one I was holding. “I'll take it. It'll look nice hanging on the patio. And also I'd like a half pound of your signature Cedar Key clam chocolates and a half pound of the truffles.”
We chatted as Berkley boxed my order.
“Resa seems very nice,” I told her. “I hope she'll join us tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, I'm sure she will. She's anxious to meet all the locals.”
“So she and Saxton have a good father-daughter relationship now, huh?”
“Very much so, and I'm thrilled because I know how much it meant to him.”
“That's great,” I said as I wondered again about Fiona and Andrew. “Thanks.” I reached for the bag, paid for my purchases and headed home.
Â
My mother and I were enjoying our after-dinner coffee on the patio, each lost in her own thoughts. I watched the sky turning from a light pink to a darker crimson with streaks of blue. Both sunrise and sunset had always seemed like magical times to me. Sunrise held such promise for the day ahead, and sunset allowed one to contemplate how well the day had been lived. I glanced over at the dragonfly that now hung from a hook on the post in the yard. It swayed gently in the breeze off the water. What was it Berkley had said?
Dragonflies represent change and renewal.
In the almost eight months since Andrew had died, I was certainly experiencing change.
“I have something to tell you,” I said. “Actually, I'm not supposed to mention it, but I know you won't say anything.”
I glanced over as my mother shifted in her chair to better face me.
“What is it?”
“Well, when Victoria called me the other day . . . she said she's definitely going to be selling Maybelle's house. But she didn't want the word out just yet.”
“I see,” was all that my mother said.
“Yeah, she said what with Sam and her business up north, she really wouldn't get the chance to come down here much and use it.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
I nodded and remained silent for a few minutes, trying to form the words in my head.
“And so,” I said, “I told her to please not put it on the market or list it with a Realtor until . . . she offered it to me first.”
“You?” I heard the surprise in my mother's voice.
“Yeah. I don't know. I can't really explain it, because up until I said that to Victoria, I hadn't really been thinking about buying Maybelle's house.”
My mother adjusted her position in the chair but remained quiet.
“What do you think?” I asked. “I haven't even been in that house since I was in my teens. You used to go visit Maybelle. Do you think it would be a good house for me?”
“I'm not certain.”
She paused for a moment, causing me to think she was definitely not in favor of my purchasing the house, which was odd because my mother was always so open-minded, allowing me to come to my own decisions.
“You think it might be a bad idea?” I asked. “Is it just that particular house or any house in general?”
She reached over to pat my hand and shook her head. “No, no. I didn't mean to indicate that you shouldn't purchase that house if you want to. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. I guess I was just surprised. You'll need to go look at it when Victoria is here for the memorial.”
“I will,” I said. “I think I will.” But I was certain I still detected uneasiness in my mother.