Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Anna
After the breakfast dishes were done and the sun had climbed higher in the sky, Lily took the twins down to the pier again.
The kids were already bubbling with excitement, tugging her along the path that led toward the water.
Lily had hesitated at first, but Blaze had taken her hand and Nora had looped her arm through the other, and just like that, she’d been swept along.
Anna watched them from the porch, her mom’s laughter mingling with the children’s as they disappeared down the winding path.
Back inside, the house felt quieter, calmer, and almost too still. Anna leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping what was left of her coffee as Cody stood at the sink, rinsing out the last mug.
“That’s the most I’ve seen her smile,” he said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. “Or talk. Since Dad passed.”
Anna looked up.
Cody nodded, his voice low. “The kids… they’re helping her come back around.”
Anna exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I feel guilty. For not being here.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said, drying his hands on a dish towel. “I had it under control.”
“But did you?” she asked gently, meeting his eyes. “Did you really?”
Cody paused, his jaw tightening. “I did the best I could, Anna. Mom hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with conversation, or anything really. I don’t know that you being here a few months ago would have changed anything.”
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I guess we’ll never know.
I just…I always thought Mom would be okay, you know?
She’s always been the anchor for everyone else.
She’s the one who got Margot out of bed after her husband died.
She kept Dad and Uncle Henry sane after Grandma and Grandpa died.
How many people in town has she been there for?
She’s the one who brings the casseroles and the pies for people, she organizes fundraisers, and clothing drives.
She’s never been the one to fall apart or even need a hand to hold. ”
“She always had Dad to be that hand in the past. They were best friends and had been for a lifetime, practically. I think…I think we never realized just how much the two of them relied on each other,” Cody murmured.
Anna let out a long sigh, tears pricking at her eyes. “You’re right. I’ve just always seen mom as being so strong, and now, now it’s like seeing a shell of a person.”
“She’s still strong. She always will be,” Cody replied. “I think…I think when someone has been the strong one their entire lives, that at some point it just becomes too much to carry alone. She’ll get back to herself, we just have to show her how. I really do think the twins are helping.”
“I think so, too.”
“Just give her some time.”
“I didn’t even know,” she continued, “that she put a sign on the studio: Closed for the season. Did you know?”
He froze. Then slowly shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”
There was a flicker of regret in his expression.
Anna softened. “It’s okay. I just… I miss him, too, you know? You don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself.”
He didn’t respond at first. Just gave her a small, tight nod before stepping away from the sink.
“I need to get going,” he said, grabbing his keys from the hook near the door. “I made plans for this afternoon.”
Anna opened her mouth to ask what kind of plans, but the words stalled when he avoided her gaze.
“Tell Mom and the kids goodbye for me, okay?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
And just like that, he was out the door, footsteps fading down the porch steps. He’d never been much for emotions, even before the Marines, but something about his time in the Corps had only made him more guarded. More efficient at shutting things down and walking away.
Anna stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, letting the quiet settle again around her.
Then, with a deep breath, she pulled open the pantry and took out the ingredients for clam chowder.
A promise was a promise, and it felt good to do something warm, something comforting. Something that smelled like home.
The more she moved around the kitchen, the more she could feel the questions building in her chest like a rising tide. But how do you ask the strongest woman you’ve ever known why she’s given up? How do you pull someone out of the dark when they won’t even admit they’re lost?
She washed the clams and set them to soak.
Peeled potatoes. Chopped onions. Her hands moved automatically, guided by years of memory, muscle, and comfort.
She made clam chowder the way her father used to: rich with cream and butter, seasoned with thyme and a bay leaf, finished with a splash of white wine.
The smell filled the house, warm and briny.
Margot popped her head in from the patio. “It smells like heaven in here. What are we celebrating?”
“Holding it together,” Anna said quietly. “Barely. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Just got here,” she answered with a smile. “Thought I’d check in on everyone and get more time with those babies.”
“I’m grateful that you’ve been here throughout everything.”
Margot gave her a knowing look. “I talked to Georgia. She said you stopped by.”
Anna nodded. “I saw the sign.”
Margot stepped in and took a dishtowel from the hook to dry her hands. “She’s not herself. Hasn’t been. We’ve all been trying to nudge her back to her old self, but maybe it has to come from you.”
Anna swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I have it in me to be someone’s anchor right now. Luke’s gone. The kids are exhausting. I feel like I’m barely keeping my own head above water.”
Margot reached out, resting a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “Maybe you don’t have to be her anchor. Maybe you just have to be her daughter. Remind her who she is. And if all else fails, feed her. Food is a love letter.”
Anna smiled, despite herself. “Then I just wrote a novel.”
She plated chowder in wide bowls and set the table on the screened-in porch where the sea breeze could sweep through.
Blaze and Nora came racing in, declaring their pirate quest complete and their hunger level extreme.
Lily joined them a few minutes later, her steps slow but her eyes more present than they had been in a while.
She paused beside the table, taking in the spread. “Your father used to make chowder exactly like this.”
Anna looked up. “I know. That’s why I made it.”
They sat together. They ate. They laughed when Blaze spilled half his chowder down his shirt and Nora offered him her napkin like a queen bestowing a blessing.
Afterward, when the kids were off chasing fireflies in the twilight, Anna, Margot, and Lily lingered on the porch with mugs of tea. There was a comfortable silence between them.
Anna took a breath. “I drove by the studio today.”
Lily didn’t look at her. Just stared out at the darkening sky. “It’s closed.”
“For the season?” Anna asked gently.
Her mother nodded. “I couldn’t do it, not without him. I’d go in and sit at the wheel, and nothing would come. My hands didn’t remember how to move.”
Anna reached across the table, placed her hand over her mother’s. “Then don’t start with the wheel. Start with something smaller. Open the doors. Let the light in. See what happens.”
Lily’s lips trembled. “What if it never comes back? The spark?”
Anna squeezed her hand. “Then we make new sparks. Together. But I think it’s still in you. It’s just buried under all the love you lost.”
Lily looked at her daughter then, eyes shining. “You’re a lot like your father.”
“Good,” Anna whispered. “Because I could really use him right now.”
They sat together until the stars came out. And Anna reminded herself to give her mother the same grace she’d always given her growing up. They’d get through this rough patch and come out closer and better on the other side.