Chapter 2
“You could help,” Dani said, still wrestling with the suitcase.
Kate didn't move from the porch. “You managed to pack it.”
“Seriously? This is how we're doing this?” Dani abandoned the suitcase in the middle of the driveway and climbed the porch steps.
Up close, Kate could see the subtle changes more clearly, professional eyebrows, expensive skincare, a thin gold necklace that looked real.
Even her perfume was different, something subtle and expensive instead of the body spray she used to drown herself in.
“Pop's in the sunroom,” Kate said. “He's having a good day.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he'll know who you are. Probably.”
Dani's face shifted, something like fear flickering across it. “Katie…”
“Just don't upset him.”
Kate led the way inside, through the lobby that needed new carpeting, past the desk where bills had been sorted into piles of urgent and more urgent.
The inn felt shabbier with Dani here, like seeing it through a stranger's eyes.
The wallpaper in the hallway peeled at the corners.
The radiator clanged and hissed. Even the smell, old wood, coffee, that particular mustiness of coastal houses, seemed pronounced.
They continued through the house, making their way past the kitchen to a small sunroom only family shared.
Their father was still in his chair, the plate of orange peels pushed aside. Sunlight caught the silver in his hair, making him look older than his fifty-eight years. He looked up when they entered, and his face transformed.
“Dani? Little Dani Banani?”
“Hi, Daddy.” Dani's voice caught. She crossed to him quickly, kneeling beside his chair to hug him. “I missed you.”
“You got tall,” Pop said, which made no sense. Dani had been the same height since high school. But he stroked her hair, smiling, and Kate saw Dani's shoulders start to shake.
“I'm home now,” Dani whispered.
“Good. That's good. Katie takes care of everything, but she gets tired. Don't you, Katie-girl?”
“I'm fine, Pop.”
“She's always fine,” Pop told Dani, as if they were conspiring. “Your mother was the same way. Fine, fine, fine, until she wasn't.”
Dani pulled back to look at him. “You feeling okay, Daddy?”
“Better now. Both my girls are here.” He touched Dani's face. “You look like her. Elizabeth. Same eyes.”
Kate turned away, busying herself with Pop's lunch tray. She'd heard it her whole life, Dani looked like their mother, Kate looked like Pop's side. Sturdy. Practical. Built for Maine winters, Pop used to say, like it was a compliment.
“Marcy’s making perch,” Kate said. “Charlie caught them this morning.”
“Charlie Brennan's a good man,” Pop said. “Taught you girls to fish. Remember, Dani? You caught that big bass?”
Dani hadn't caught anything. She'd complained about the cold, the smell, the waiting. It had been Kate who caught the bass, but she didn't correct him.
Kate placed the perch in the sink and then turned to look at her sister.
“Is that contractor still here?” Kate asked Dani. “I saw his truck.”
“How would I know? I just got here.” Dani stood, smoothing her expensive jeans. “Though there was a guy on a ladder when I pulled up. Youngish. Kind of cute.”
“He's here about the roof.”
“What's wrong with the roof?”
Kate looked at her sister. “Everything. Same as the rest of this place.”
“The inn's beautiful,” Dani said, but her voice was uncertain. She was seeing it now, the water stains on the ceiling, the warped floorboards, the way everything listed slightly to the left.
“Miss Kate?” Rosa, the housekeeper, appeared in the doorway. “That contractor wants to know if you can look at something. He's in the attic.”
“I'll be back,” Kate told Pop.
“I'll stay with him,” Dani said, settling into the chair beside their father. The expensive clothes looked wrong in the faded sunroom, like a magazine photo cut and pasted into the wrong scene.
Kate headed upstairs, taking the narrow back stairs to avoid any guests. She could hear Ben moving around in the attic before she even pulled down the access ladder.
“Thanks for coming up,” he called when she emerged into the dusty space. “I wanted to show you this before I headed out to the hardware store.”
He was crouched beside the junction where the roof lines met, shining a flashlight at the beams. “See this? The water damage is all confined to this section. The rest of your roof structure is solid.”
“That's good news, right?”
“Very good.” He stood, and she noticed wood shavings in his dark hair. “I can fix this section without touching the rest. It'll save you thousands.”
“How many thousands are we still talking about?”
“Let me run the numbers. But definitely less than I originally thought.” He moved toward another section, then stopped. “Your sister?”
Kate looked where he was pointing. Through the dormer window, they could see Dani retrieving her suitcase from the driveway, struggling with it on the gravel.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I remember her. You don't seem happy she's here.”
“It's complicated.”
“Family always is.” He turned from the window. “I should have estimates for you tomorrow. The basic repair might be as low as eight thousand.”
“Eight thousand might as well be eighty thousand right now.”
“We could work out payments. Or...” He hesitated. “I could use some help on other jobs. If you're interested in trade work.”
“I run an inn.”
“And ice fish. And probably do your own maintenance here. I'm betting you know your way around tools.”
Before Kate could respond, they heard raised voices from below. Dani's voice, sharp and defensive. Then Pop's, confused and agitated.
Kate was down the ladder in seconds, taking the stairs two at a time. She found them in the sunroom, Dani standing with her phone in her hand, Pop half-risen from his chair.
“She was here,” Pop said. “That woman. Elizabeth's mother. I saw her.”
“Nobody was here, Daddy,” Dani said, looking at her phone, distracted. “You were dreaming.”
“I don't dream in the daytime!” Pop's voice rose. “She was in the garden. Blue coat. Looking at the house like she owned it.”
Kate moved between them, gently pressing Pop back into his chair. “It's okay, Pop. I'll check the garden.”
“She wants the house,” Pop insisted. “Always wanted to take Elizabeth back. Now she wants to take the house.”
Kate looked at Dani, who had gone pale. “What's on your phone?”
“Nothing. Just...” Dani turned it so Kate could see. A text message: I'm in town. We should discuss arrangements.—L.W.
Kate's blood went cold. “L.W.?”
Dani nodded, miserable. “Lillian Whitfield.”
“Our grandmother,” Kate said slowly, “is in Kennebunkport?”
“I didn't know she was coming. I swear, Katie. She said she'd wait until…”
“Until what?”
Pop grabbed Kate's hand. “Don't let her in, Katie-girl. Promise me.”
“I promise, Pop.” Kate squeezed his hand, then turned to Dani. “Outside. Now.”
They went onto the back porch, closing the door behind them. The March wind picked up, smelling of snow.
“Keep your voice down. First of all, I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that Pop has early-onset Alzheimer’s.
He’s not having a bad dream. I don’t need you to add to the confusion.
As far as Lillian Whitfield is concerned, you’d better start talking or you can drive yourself back to New York right now,” Kate said.
Dani hugged herself, shivering in her thin designer sweater. “I've been seeing her. In New York. Just lunch, at first. She reached out three months ago.”
“Three months?” Kate's voice was dangerously quiet. “You've been seeing the woman who destroyed our mother for three months?”
“She didn't… it wasn't like that. She's different than we thought. She's old, Katie. And sick. And she…”
“I don't care if she's dying.”
“She is.” Dani's eyes filled with tears. “She has cancer. Pancreatic. She wanted to meet us before… to make amends.”
“Amends.” Kate laughed. “She cut Mom off for marrying Pop. She skipped her own daughter's funeral. What possible amends…”
“She wants to help. With the inn. With Pop's care. With everything.”
“We don't need her help.”
“Don't you?” Dani gestured at the inn. “Look at this place, Katie. Really look at it. The roof is failing. The paint's peeling. Pop needs more care than you can give. And you're too proud to admit you're drowning.”
“I'm managing.”
“You're sinking. And taking Pop down with you.”
Kate slapped her. She didn't plan it, didn't think about it. Her hand just moved, connecting with Dani's cheek with a crack that seemed to echo in the cold air.
They stared at each other, both shocked.
“I'm sorry,” Kate started.
“No.” Dani touched her cheek, which was already reddening. “I deserved that. Maybe. But Katie, she's here. In town. And she's not going away.”
“What does she want?”
“To meet her grandchildren. To see Pop. To...” Dani paused. “To give us our inheritance. The one Mom would have had if she hadn't married Pop.”
“Blood money.”
“Money that could save the inn. Save Pop. Save you from killing yourself trying to hold everything together.”
Kate heard footsteps inside. Ben Calloway appeared in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.
“Sorry to interrupt. I'm heading out. I'll email those estimates tonight.” He paused, clearly sensing the tension. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Kate said automatically.
He nodded, not believing her. “I'll see myself out.”
After his truck pulled away, Kate turned back to Dani. “You invited her here, didn't you? That's why you came early.”
Dani didn't deny it. “She wants to have dinner. Tomorrow night.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It's not your call alone. This is Pop's house. And she's our grandmother, whether you like it or not.”
“She's nothing to us, and I wouldn’t put Pop through that.”
“She's dying, Katie. Whatever she did, whoever she was… she's dying. Don't we owe Mom something? To at least hear her out?”
“We don't owe that woman anything.”
“Not her. Mom.” Dani's voice broke. “What if Mom would have wanted us to forgive her? What if…”
“Mom's dead. She doesn't want anything.”
They stood in the cold, the space between them feeling vast despite the small porch. Snow started to fall, light flakes that would probably turn heavy by nightfall.
“I can’t stay here with you like this. I'm going to the Harbor Hotel,” Dani said finally. “When you're ready to talk, really talk, call me.”
Kate almost laughed watching her sister navigate her ridiculous suitcase back to the rental car, then went inside to check on her father. He was agitated, muttering about the woman in the blue coat, about Elizabeth, about promises broken and kept.
Kate gave him his afternoon medications early, hoping they'd calm him. Then she sat at the desk in the office, looking at the bills, the estimates, the reservation logbook with its sparse bookings.
Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number with a photo attached. She opened it to find a picture of the inn taken from across the harbor. A professional shot, the kind real estate agents used. The message below read:
It's still a beautiful property. It deserves to be saved. Let me help.—L.W.
Furious Dani had given Lillian her cell phone number, Kate deleted the message, but the image stayed burned in her mind. The inn did look beautiful from that angle, like something worth saving. Like the home her mother had loved, where she'd raised her children, where she'd died too young.
Outside, the snow fell harder, and Kate could see, from a distance, the ice fishermen out on the pond pulling their lines, heading home before the storm hit. She wished she was still out there, where the only problems were simple ones, fish or no fish, thick ice or thin, stay or go.
But she was here, in this inn that was falling apart, with a father who was fading, a sister who'd betrayed them, and a grandmother who wanted to buy her way back into their lives.
Tomorrow, Lillian Whitfield would come to dinner.
Kate poured herself a whiskey from the bottle she kept in the bottom drawer, Pop's old brand, cheap but effective, and started making a list of everything that needed to be done before then. Clean the dining room. Plan a menu with Marcy. Figure out what to tell Pop.
Figure out how to face the woman who'd broken her mother's heart. Her anger brewing at the thought that perhaps their grandmother had paid for Dani’s hotel room.
The snow kept falling, and somewhere in Kennebunkport, in some expensive hotel, Lillian Whitfield waited. After so many years, she was finally making her move, claiming their lives, the inn, and their family as her own.
We’re not her family, and Whaler’s Landing isn’t her home.
But as she looked around the office, at the water stains and the peeling wallpaper and the photo of her mother on the desk, Kate wondered if she had any fight left in her to keep it.