Folly Cove (35 page)

Know that I am always with you in spirit and watching out for you from wherever this new path takes me.

With all my love,

Dad

“Jesus, Dad,” Laura said, sniffing. “When did you get so maudlin?”

“Dying has a way of doing that to you,” Flossie said, and tucked the letter back into its envelope.

Then she stood up and went to the hall closet, opened the door, and took a box off the shelf above the coatrack. Lucy started fussing, so Anne picked her up and held her so she could see what was going on.

Flossie carried the box back to the coffee table and set it carefully in front of them. Then she stepped back as if something might jump out of it.

It was an ordinary white Priority Mail Express box, the flat-rate kind available for free from any post office. Flossie's address was scrawled on the front; the return address was Venice, Florida. It was an ordinary box in every way, except for several black strips of tape declaring
CREMATED REMAINS
in capital white letters.

Anne felt like doubling over from the shock. “Is that Dad?” she whispered. “Is he actually
in
there?” A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to escape.

“Dad, come on outta there,” Elly said, also whispering. When her sisters glared at her, she said, “Sorry.”

“Seems like a waste of money to send it Express Mail,” Laura said. “It's not like he's going anywhere. How long have you had him in that closet, Flossie?”

All three of them started giggling. Flossie joined in, and even Lucy's mouth was open wide in a grin.

Then, at nearly the same instant, the four women were weeping, shoulders shuddering, and Lucy sat in shocked silence, clinging to Anne's sweater.

“I'm so sorry, Flossie,” Anne said finally. “It's just such a shock.”

“Of course it is.” Flossie's voice was brisk. “And you hardly knew your father.” She hesitated, then added, “There are things you don't know about your mother, either. And, although she disagrees with this idea, I believe you should know the truth about her, because the truth concerns you, too.”

“Shouldn't Mom be the one to tell us all this?” Laura said.

“Yeah, but you know she won't,” Elly said. “Go on, Flossie.”

Laura stood up and began moving around the room, agitated. “I don't know if this is such a good idea. I don't know if I can take any more surprises today.” She glanced at the box on the table. “Aren't we even going to open that box and see if Dad's really in there?”

“He's in there,” Flossie said. “Sit down, Laura. Just for a few more minutes. Then we'll open the box if you like.”

“I don't like anything about this day,” Laura grumbled. “I feel like I've fallen into a nest of bees.” But she sat as directed.

Elly leaned over and buzzed in her ear until Laura shoved her away.

“So what do you mean, you need to tell us the truth about Mom?” Anne said, speaking over her sisters.

“Well, I suppose the first thing you ought to know is that your mother's childhood was very different from what she led you to believe,” Flossie said. “She didn't grow up wealthy. She never had two parents. She didn't even grow up in Back Bay.”

“What?”
Laura said. “Where is she from, then?”

“Everett,” Flossie said.

“Everett?” Elly asked. “You mean,
Everett Everett
, like down by the airport?”

“Yes,” Flossie said.

“Wow,” Elly said. “So who were her parents?”

“She never really knew her father,” Flossie said. “She was raised by a single mother, very poor, in an apartment. She also isn't turning sixty-five. She's turning seventy-five.”

Laura frowned. “But that would make her thirty-five when I was born. And almost ten years older than Dad! Did he even know?”

“I don't think so,” Flossie said. “But I don't think he would have cared. She was beautiful at any age. Still is,” she added softly. “And you mustn't be too hard on her. Your mother was fighting for her survival.”

“But how do you know all this?” Anne said. “Why would Mom tell you but not Dad? Or us?”

“I had my suspicions when I first met your mother that she wasn't who she said she was,” Flossie said. “And then, years later, Sarah mentioned a sister when you had your appendix out, Laura. Your mother was nearly hysterical when you went to the hospital in an ambulance, because she remembered her sister nearly dying of an infection in the hospital after a surgery. So I got in touch with a friend of mine, a DA in Essex County. He helped me look into her background. Her mother was still alive when she married your father, but she's gone now. Her sister is still alive, though. She lives in Revere. Her name is Joan.”

“We have another aunt, living just half an hour away?” Elly asked, her voice squeaking with surprise. She shook her head. “God. Mom's a
total impostor. I don't understand any of this! Why was she lying all this time?”

“She was ashamed,” Flossie said. “She didn't want anyone to know where she came from, because she was trying to bury her past. Believe me, she had reason to: it was an unhappy childhood in every way. Then, when she met your father, the thing your mother wanted more than anything was to be accepted as a Bradford. My parents never would have condoned the marriage if they'd known her real background.” She gave a short laugh. “Me, either, though I'm ashamed now to admit that.”

“That must be why the inn meant so much to Mom, right? More than it ever did to Dad,” Anne said slowly. “It was something stable.”

“That's a pretty generous outlook,” Elly said. “The other way to look at things is that she's a liar and a cheat.”

Flossie clapped her hands on her thighs and stood up. “Well, that's probably enough news for one day. I'm sorry. There is a lot you girls will need to think about, and I'm sure you'll have more questions. I really was hoping your mother would join us for this conversation, but in any case, I'm glad you know some of this. Now, how about a walk on the beach to clear our heads?”

“Wait,” Anne said. “We haven't opened the box.”

“Do you really want to do that right now?” Laura demanded. “God, there's probably an urn in there, packaged in Bubble Wrap and packing tape or something horrible.”

“Yeah,” Elly added in a mutter, “and we all know the ashes in that box could be from anybody. Or
anything
! Somebody's dog, even. They probably sweep the ashes up together in the crematorium.”

“Stop it, Elly,” Anne said, casting a worried glance at Flossie.

Elly ignored her. “The bigger question is, what are we going to do with his ashes once we open that box?”

Oddly, Flossie was smiling a little, her eyes damp again. “I know the answer to that. Neil asked me to have you scatter his ashes here on the beach at Folly Cove. In his letter to me, he said he finally realized that, no matter how many years and miles separated him from the inn, this is still his home.”

“Well, we can't do that right now,” Laura snapped. “Not without Mom. And there ought to be a service.”

“I didn't mean
now
, dope,” Elly said. “God, Laura! Don't you ever get tired of being so responsible and literal?”

“Shut up,” Laura said. “Don't you ever get tired of being so irresponsible and bitchy?”

“Girls,” Flossie snapped. “Let's walk down to the beach. You can take your time to decide about a service for your father. I'll keep his ashes until then, all right?”

Still grumbling, Elly and Laura led the way down the path to the beach, followed by Flossie, dressed in a black wool watch cap pulled low over her dark eyes and a black pea coat. She looked like a miniature Navy SEAL. Anne followed them with Lucy, thinking of her father bringing them down to this very beach, even on days when the wind whipped the waves into a frenzy and the tips of their ears and noses turned instantly numb.

Her father had helped Anne and her sisters find enough sea glass at Folly Cove to fill a jar shaped like a heart.

He had once helped them make mouse costumes after taking them to see
The Nutcracker
in Boston.

Dad taught her to ride a bike, running beside her so she wouldn't fall. Anne had been astonished, when she was six, that her father could run so fast. Could outrun a bicycle and catch her when she wobbled and started to tip over, bike and all!

And, in the mornings, if Anne came into the bathroom while he was shaving, he'd lift her up onto the sink counter so they could make beards and horns with the shaving cream.

Daddy used to make her laugh so hard, she'd get the hiccups.

He'd loved her. He'd loved them all.

Flossie turned around, saw that she was weeping, and took Anne's arm as they descended the porch steps behind the others. “Are you all right?” she said.

“I think so,” Anne said. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Flossie turned her head away, looking out to sea. “I feel lost. And terribly sad. My brother and I loved each other and fought with each
other the same way you and your sisters do. It's a great gaping hole now, knowing he's gone, even though I hadn't seen him in years.”

“I know what you mean.” Anne tucked her arm into Flossie's and they stood there for a moment, watching her sisters pick their way down the rocky path to the beach, Laura's short hair feathering dark, Elly's blond head tipped back as she laughed.

It was cold but sunny. The water was so blue that the rest of the landscape looked bleached of color. A white tugboat churned in the distance and a cloud of sandpipers rose from the water, then settled back onto the beach. The tide was out, leaving ridges of sand and mud, endless patterns upon patterns on the gold crescent beach.

She had come to this beach countless times with her father and sisters. Moments like this one had already passed. She was lucky to have had those times, and to be here again.

Anne looked down at the baby in her arms. Lucy was leaning outward, captivated by the sparkling water, reaching as if she could grasp the dancing waves. Anne vowed to remember this exact moment, with the warmth of her child in her arms as the sea stretched before them, an ocean of miracles, the shadow of her father beside her.

•   •   •

Back at the house, Laura slipped a pair of boots on over her jeans and walked down to the stable, pulling her jacket collar up against the breeze. It was midafternoon and the sun was already starting its descent. Autumn was winding its inexorable way toward winter.

She didn't know how to feel about anything at the moment: not the change of season, her father's death, or Flossie's revelations about her mother, though she was perhaps the least surprised by those. Kennedy had said something to her once about her mother's birthday, saying it wasn't really the one they were celebrating, but Laura had ignored this and said, “Well, the point of a birthday is to celebrate a person, not an age, and Grandma has asked us to celebrate this special day in her honor. We need to respect her and do that.”

What complete bunk.
Respect
her mother? How could she when she didn't even
know
her?

At the moment, all Laura felt was numb. It wasn't an unpleasant
sensation, especially in the face of what she had to do tonight, which was to tell her daughter that her own parents' marriage was a lie, just like so many other things in Laura's life.

A couple of boarders were exercising their horses in the ring, making use of it before Laura started teaching. She had only two lessons today. Both were late in the afternoon, thankfully, so she could concentrate on doing ordinary, solitary tasks like bringing hay down from the loft and filling water buckets right now, rather than have to speak with anyone.

She hoped the barn would work its usual magic on her raw mood and give her strength for what was to come tonight with Jake and Kennedy. Meanwhile, she would push aside all thoughts of her own parents until tomorrow. What could she do about any of it now?

Laura greeted the boarders, breathing in the pleasurable smells of hay, sweet molasses Omolene, and horse, rolling her shoulders a little. Maybe she should take a ride, too. The weather would probably clear soon, judging from the fast-moving clouds, and Kennedy wouldn't be home until shortly before dinner, because Sandra was picking her up from school to take her to their house. Mysteriously, Kennedy had developed a friendship with Melanie, proving once again that a teen girl's mind is a mysterious thing.

Only when Laura wandered into the barn did she see the stranger seated on the bench just inside the stable doors.

“Hello, Laura,” he said.

She stopped so suddenly that she breathed in a plume of sawdust kicked up by her boots. The man was in shadow, yet even in silhouette he was instantly recognizable to her, because she'd studied his photographs online so closely.

“Tom!” She put a hand to her mouth, her heart drumming hard. “What are you doing here?”

“The silence was killing me. I had to see you. I know this probably sounds silly, but I was worried about you when you cut things off like that.” He regarded her for another moment, then smiled. “You look good. I'm glad.”

“You, too,” Laura said, amazed she could form words when her mouth
felt like it did in Jake's dentist chair, when the hygienist stuck that rubber tube in her mouth and sucked everything dry.

And how could he say that? How
could
she look good, after the morning she'd had?

She banished those thoughts and focused on Tom. He looked nothing like the boy she'd known in high school. He'd grown from a skinny kid with lousy skin into a substantial man. Not fat, but tall and solid. He could have been a lumberjack or farmer, with his sturdy build and the way he seemed so at ease in a barn, surrounded by horses hanging their heads over the stall doors or passing them in the aisle, as one horse and rider did just then.