Breakwater Bay (28 page)

“No, not at all. You know I’ll support any decision you make.”

What was he talking about? “My decision is I love you and the boys bunches. And I’m the luckiest person in the world to have you.”

She hung up feeling a little shaken. It wasn’t like her not to think things through before acting. And she had this time, not even thinking of the repercussions.

Well, she’d learned what she needed to know. And there was an end to it.

She came back to the living room to find Nora sitting exactly as she’d left her. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Meri said. “Better than all right.” Meri had considered telling Nora about being adopted, so she would see how lucky she was to have both parents even if they didn’t live together—and hated each other. But Meri was the lucky one, lucky to have a loving family, to be a Calder.

“Listen, let’s sleep on it and tomorrow we’ll figure out what to do. Now, let’s get your bed made up; we’ve got an early day tomorrow, then we’ll walk and eat and shop till we drop.”

They made the bed. Nora used the bathroom first. And by the time Meri came out from her turn, she was fast asleep.

I
t was late when Alden walked home from Therese’s. While he’d been there, sitting in the kitchen, lulled by the comfort of the food and the company, he’d felt like he could tackle anything that came his way.

Out in the dark, with the sea air blowing cold and wet, he just felt alone.

A cover of clouds had rolled in during the evening and they eased across the nearly full moon like a conjurer’s handkerchief. There might be rain. Most likely it would blow off by the morning.

With the cheery light of Calder Farm behind him and the dark mass of Corrigan House waiting for him, he felt no desire to hurry home, no matter how biting the wind had become. The last show of force before spring set in.

Why did he keep his house so dark? How hard was it just to flick a switch, turn a knob, and fill the rooms with a little warmth? He never thought about it. When it grew dark, he worked by his drafting lamp or turned on the reading lamp next to his chair.

He could be living in a monk’s cell, for all the attention he paid to his house. Maybe he should sell it. Buy a smaller, more welcoming place, big enough for his children to visit. But not so big that he forgot vast parts of it even existed.

Would Nora and Lucas care so much as long as they were still close to Gran and the sea? He knew of a couple of places closer to town but not so far away that he couldn’t still get to Therese quickly if she needed him.

But she’d be totally alone out here if he did. He couldn’t count on whoever bought the place to look after her. Maybe he should just wait.

Alden didn’t go inside but walked around to the back where his studio looked out over the sea.

He didn’t go in there, either, but took the sloping path to the beach. And stepped onto the smooth rocks.

To his right the little patch of sandy beach showed silver against the bluffs. The tide was coming in, the waves were talkative, rumbling and crashing like laughter on the boulders of the breakwater, before rolling into the land.

He imagined rambunctious elfin creatures in the drops of water climbing the boulders only to slide down again. A raucous party that suddenly turned dark in his mind. And the funny little creatures turned to the evil gnomes of his last project.

He closed his eyes, shook his head to clear it. He wouldn’t be doing any more dark fantasies. They stayed with him too long after the work was finished.

When he opened his eyes, he knew what he would see. A woman wild with fear, arms thrashing against the wind, and a small red dinghy tossed by the waves.

S
pending a whole day with a teenager turned out to be a lot more exhausting than Meri had imagined. They started out with a brisk walk on the Cliff Walk, which was completed in fits and starts because Nora stopped every time she saw something that interested her. First it was the sea and they spent some time trying to figure out if they could see the Sakonnet Yacht Club across the bay while Carlyn jogged in place.

Then Nora turned around and saw the grand mansion overlooking the sea.

“Wow! What is that?”

Meri smiled. “The Breakers, the grandest of the Gilded Age cottages.”

“A cottage? Really?”

“That’s what they called them. Summer houses for the ridiculously rich. It belonged to the Vanderbilts.”

“I’ve heard of them. It must have a hundred rooms.”

“Only seventy,” Carlyn said. “Italian Renaissance palazzo style. Designed by Richard Morris Hunt. One mansion has a room made entirely of gold.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The Breakers is the grandest. but wait until you see the next one.”

After that they stopped at every house for Nora to admire and ask questions. And for Meri and Carlyn to remember facts they’d thought they’d forgotten.

“Hell, I pass these houses every other day. I work in a mansion-in-progress. Most of my work is done on historic sites, and you know, I’ve stopped looking. I just realized. Time for a refresher course.” Carlyn struck a pose then sang, “Time.”

“Time . . .” Nora echoed.

“Time . . .” Meri added.

A couple of seconds of singing and jiving ensued.

“She’s a natural,” Carlyn said, stopping the exhibition. They were beginning to draw a crowd.

For the rest of the walk, Meri and Carlyn racked their brains for interesting anecdotes about the buildings and their sometimes scandalous owners in the Gilded Age.

The walk took twice as long as usual, but they all enjoyed it thoroughly. There was a line at the pancake café so they stood outside, deciding what songs to sing at karaoke that night.

It took almost a half hour before they were seated.

“So I didn’t get a chance to ask you, what did Peter have to say for himself?”

Meri blew on her hot coffee. Peter’s call had awakened her at five thirty that morning. She was about to begin her day, and he was just finishing his. He was definitely having a good time in California. “He got there, he loves it, his uncle took him out to dinner with some other people from the firm last night.” And who knew where else.

“Did you tell him”—Carlyn paused, glanced quickly at Nora—“anything about what’s been going on?”

“No, it seemed like not the right time.”

“What’s going on?” Nora asked, frowning. “You’re not breaking up with him, are you?”

“No, he’s just interning in L.A. for the summer.”

“That sucks. Are you going to visit him?”

Meri shrugged. “I think he’s probably going to be too busy to take any time off. I’ll see him when he gets back, and we’ll talk on the phone.”

Nora stirred her hot chocolate. “That’s kind of lame.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Do you miss him?” Nora piled a forkful of blueberries, banana, and whipped cream in her mouth.

Meri laughed and stabbed a strawberry off her waffle. “He’s only been gone for a day and, well, I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Just stuff.” What was she hiding? Nora had poured out her soul to Meri last night. She deserved the same respect. “I was adopted.”

Nora put down her fork. Frowned at Meri. “You’re not really a Calder?”

Across the table, Carlyn grimaced.

“I wasn’t born a Calder.”

“That sucks. You never said.”

“That’s because I just found out last week.”

“That really sucks. Are you freaked?”

“I was at first, but since then I’ve come to understand that . . . well . . .” She smiled remembering that painful night she ran through the rain and across the dunes. “That family is more than a few minutes of indiscretion in the backseat of a car. I paraphrase.”

Nora snorted out a laugh. “Let me guess. You’re quoting Dad.”

Meri laughed. “Yes, how did you know?”

“It sounds just like him, even”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“paraphrased.” She pursed her lips and said more quietly, “I guess I showed up at an awkward time.”

“Not at all,” Meri said. “You’re a breath of fresh air. And just what I needed. Anyway, it’s over and life goes on.”

“Does Peter care?”

Meri exchanged a look with Carlyn. “Well, I haven’t told him yet.”

“Wow.” Nora stabbed another bite of waffle and fruit and chewed. Swallowed. “But he won’t mind, will he?”

“Of course not,” Carlyn said.

“I hope not. Now, if I came from a family of the moneyed, pedigreed set . . .”

“Like the families that own those mansions?”

“Most of those families sold them years ago and they are owned or managed by different restoration and tourist organizations. But there are still some seriously rich people here. I’m just not one of them.”

A
lden hung up the phone. That had gone just about as bad as he’d expected.

What started as a suggestion to Jennifer that she let Nora stay a few extra days at which time Alden would drive her down to New Haven ended with her accusing him of turning Nora against her. That was followed by her guilt ploys, which had stopped working years ago. Then it was back to accusations.

But it reached a dead end the minute he suggested that they might want her to spend a little more time away from the family.

He shouldn’t have bothered to be diplomatic; it never worked with Jennifer. She could always outyell and outblame; she always was the more wounded than he, more put upon than everyone else.

For a full two minutes he just sat silent and tried not to listen as nastiness blossomed into out-and-out hysteria. The final straw was hearing Mark in the background, trying to soothe her, suggesting it might not be a bad idea, and then listening to her turn her rage on him.

The woman had anger management problems. She was spoiled and self-centered and . . . He’d tried to stop himself from making judgments about her and succeeded most of the time. But today he wanted to tell her exactly what he thought of her.

Alden was no fool. He couldn’t win against her unbridled need for attention. He shouldn’t have bothered. Better to let Nora think he hadn’t tried at all than to put her in the middle of it. Because he had no doubt Jennifer would find plenty of ways to take it out on Nora when they did go home.

And what about Lucas? He wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t dare turn her attention toward him. “Perhaps we should discuss this when you’re feeling a little calmer.” That’s when the obscenities began.

“Later.” He hung up. And now he just sat, turmoil raging once again like almost a decade hadn’t passed. He tried to focus on the fact that at least he’d gotten Nora and Lucas out of that loveless, thankless marriage.

Jennifer had taken them and was punishing them for her unhappiness. When they were grown and gone, would she turn that bitterness on her new children?

He didn’t envy Mark. He was just glad he was out of it. Now if he could just figure out a way to get his children back.

His cell rang. It was her. Hadn’t she yelled enough? He considered not answering, but maybe Mark had convinced her to let Nora stay. He was probably sick of the whole blended family fiasco.

He picked up.

“Let me speak to Nora.”

“She isn’t here.”

“Where the hell is she?”

“She’s spending the night in Newport.”

“She insists on coming to see you and then flits off? Who’s she staying with? No, never mind; I can guess. Well, you just call them and tell them to get back there. We’re picking her up first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You can’t—”

“Have her ready.” She hung up.

Alden clutched his phone, stopped himself just before he hurled it across the room. Those days were over. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t fall into that trap again.

T
herese was tired of sitting in the house. Tired of waiting for winter to pass. Tired of waiting for the snow and rain to let up. It was a beautiful day. A day for clearing and tilling the soil.

Most days she never gave her childhood a thought. But days like this with a fresh mild breeze blowing off the water, she could almost smell the past. The cows, the straw in the barn, the horse dung she and her older sister pitched out of the stalls.

She liked to ride on the tractor best. She’d loved standing behind her father, feet braced and holding on to his shoulders as they bumped over the rich soil. When he got too old to run the farm, he sold some to the AG trust and invested the money for his heirs. Therese only had one brother left. Her oldest sister had passed ten years before. And her brother four years before, just before she lost Laura. That was the year that Therese Calder grew old.

But today she felt a stirring brought on by the first of the warm weather. So she put on her muck boots and zipped up a canvas jacket. Tied her hair up with a scarf and went out to the shed.

She didn’t get out the hand tiller. The sound it made always made her think it was chewing up the soil. Which it was but she didn’t want to hear it. And it made the air smell like gasoline.

She got out the pointed-tip hoe and long-handled digging fork. She still planted a kitchen garden every year and canned and froze the produce like she still had a growing family to feed. Most of it went into care packages for Dan’s family. Or to Alden.

Therese clicked her tongue, thinking of her neighbor. Sighed. She didn’t often get impatient with him. But today she wanted to give him a good shaking. Always sitting over in that big old house, drawing fairy tales and refusing to give himself a life. A good life that he deserved. One that he could have if he would just . . .

It was right in front of his face, and he just couldn’t, wouldn’t see it. She leaned her tools against the chicken wire fence, raised the hoe, and broke the first soil of spring.

The sun was actually hot on her back. The soil was just crusting, and beneath the top layer it was moist and rich.

It felt good to be working in the soil again, even though she knew she would be stiff tomorrow. The price of old age. Or maybe just the price of not exercising enough.

Therese stuck the hoe in the ground and straightened up, stretching her lower back. She went over to the stump, and took a nice long drink from the jar of iced water, while she looked over the land. There was still a good fifty acres. Not a huge amount, but enough to leave her grandchildren.