Chapter 15
It wasn’t that Juliet wanted to move into the little two-bedroom house down the road from the Bluebell Cove Eco-Lodge.
Moving was always a hassle, and what was the point when they were already going to head back to Manhattan in September?
But all at once, maybe because of her failed (and miserable!) date with Hank Bartholomew, or maybe because Ivy and Celia still looked at her with distrust, Juliet decided to spring for the rental house, hoping that a bit of space with Danica and Juliet alone would draw mother and daughter back together.
Of course, within the first few days (maybe within the first few hours) at the new place, Juliet realized how wrong she was.
All Danica did was hide in her bedroom, writing in her blog and reading her books and leaving Juliet to her own devices.
Juliet’s schedule was dismal: walking to the Eco-Lodge, working the front desk, applying for jobs in the city, and making healthy, sad-looking dinners for herself and Danica.
But all that would change today, Juliet was sure, because it was Danica’s fifteenth birthday—and she’d decided to throw her a party.
All morning, even as Danica hid in her bedroom and willed the day to end, Juliet prepped the little house.
She baked a cake and decorated it with literary figures she knew Danica liked, then blew up balloons and decorated the front porch, and texted Ivy and Celia to make sure they knew when to come by.
She’d even arranged for Wren to call Danica and wish her happy birthday, which Wren was very willing to do, despite never having met Danica in real life.
Juliet’s pulse was as quick as a rabbit’s. Everything had to go smoothly.
But a half hour before Ivy and Celia and the rest of the Harper family were meant to come over for tacos and cake, Danica burst from her room, blotchy-faced and tear-stricken.
She collapsed on the sofa and wept into her hands.
Panicked, Juliet sat beside her daughter and rubbed her back, asking her, “What happened, honey?” And when Danica couldn’t bring herself to answer, Juliet added a clumsy, “Being fifteen is incredible. One of the best ages! Truly, it’s going to be a great year. ”
But these tears were too powerful to be the result of getting older alone. Juliet knew something else was behind them. And eventually, Danica spit it out. “Dad didn’t call. It’s already tomorrow in Singapore. Dad forgot.”
Juliet’s heart cracked open. This was low, even for Alvin, although she couldn’t say she was fully surprised.
She threw her arms around her daughter, whispering, “I love you, honey. We’re here.
We’re together. We don’t need him.” But she knew that this wouldn’t work on Danica.
To Danica, her father was king. Her father was the one supposed to whisk her off to a better life, away from this strange rental house and this tiny town where she knew no one and spent her days locked away.
Juliet had no idea what to do with her. Eventually, Danica pulled out of Juliet’s embrace and went to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Her heart thudding, Juliet opened her daughter’s blog to see the most-recent entry—a short story in which Danica and her father (a fictional version, obviously) celebrated Danica’s birthday in Singapore.
They ate street food and went to a baseball game and sang karaoke.
Her father treated her to a shopping spree.
Beneath the blog, Danica had written: Finally, I’m living my dream in Singapore! I start school in the fall. Guess it’s about time to master the local language…
Juliet wondered why Danica had to live in daydreams rather than making a better real life for herself here in Bluebell Cove.
But then she remembered herself at that age—plagued with daydreams, probably annoying everyone else with her inability to talk about anything else.
Oh, how she wished she could go back and tell herself the secrets of the future. But then again, that might have wrecked her for good. There was a reason the future was unknown to us.
“Callie,” Juliet whispered, surprising herself. “I must have annoyed you so much.”
And Theo! The way he’d looked at her at The Dockside on the Fourth of July haunted her nightmares.
He’d looked at her the same way he had all those years ago—as though she were still beautiful, as though she still mystified him.
She’d wanted to drown in how wonderful it was to be seen that way.
But in a moment, she’d revealed herself to be a massive loser.
Hank had stood her up! He’d walked out the door of the restaurant without looking back! She couldn’t believe it.
It was the kind of thing she might never get over. It was also the kind of thing she could never confess to anyone, as it was too embarrassing. The great Juliet Harper, ghosted mid-date at her ex-best friend’s failing restaurant. What storyline was this?
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Juliet got up and opened the door to find her two sisters, both of them carrying wrapped presents and wearing pained smiles.
She could feel how much they’d been talking about her on the way here.
She could feel their speculation about what had happened back in New York City, about her marriage, about her relationship with Danica.
Juliet told herself not to lose it. She matched their strained smiles and said, “We’re going to sit on the porch!
Can I get you something? Some wine?” She sounded like she was on the edge of a breakdown.
She took their presents and gestured toward the table outside, which looked rickety and on the verge of collapsing beneath them.
“Is everything all right?” Ivy asked.
“Everything’s great,” Juliet lied. Don’t break down. Don’t show yourself to them. They already pity you. Don’t let them pity you even more.
“And where is Danica? Where’s the birthday girl?” Celia asked. “I want to hug her!”
Juliet glanced back down the hallway where Danica had only just disappeared. “She’s, um. She’s having a hard time, I guess.” She let her shoulders droop.
But what was keeping her from telling her sisters the truth? Why did she insist on hiding from them? Why couldn’t she come out and say that she’d gotten divorced, and that her ex-husband was the worst of all humans because he’d forgotten his daughter’s birthday?
Was there really so much shame in showing your grief?
Ivy and Celia refused to sit down. Their faces were anything but blank. They echoed how enraged they were at Juliet’s secrecy. They echoed worry and fear.
“Juliet,” Ivy breathed, shaking her head. “Why? Why won’t you tell us?”
Juliet let out a strangled laugh.
“You’re far away from anyone you need to impress, honey,” Celia whispered. “We’re not the fashion industry. We’re not city folks. Not anymore.”
“We’re your sisters.” Ivy shrugged. “We’ve seen you at your worst. Celia taught you to ride a bike, you remember that? And I… I don’t know. I saw everything.”
“We know you, Juliet. Maybe we know you better than you want to be known,” Celia continued, flipping her hair. “But gosh, look around you. You’re in Bluebell Cove. We’ve found a way back here, back to each other. Every other person in the world is apt to give up on you. But not us.”
“You need to trust us,” Ivy said quietly. “Please, Juliet.”
Juliet wasn’t sure what to make of this. She tried to focus on her breathing, but it came in gasps.
“We want to help you,” Celia said. “But you have to help us. You have to give us something.”
And then, it spilled out of Juliet, as though she were an overfilled container.
“It’s her dad.” But that was all she could muster for now.
It surprised nobody when she burst into tears.
Ivy and Celia wrapped their arms around her and led her to the porch table, where they doted on her, pouring the wine she’d offered them and touching her hair.
“Honey, it’s okay,” Ivy breathed.
“It’s going to be,” Celia told her, squeezing her hand. “We’re here.”
And eventually, slowly, the rest of it came bubbling up about Alvin’s affair, Juliet’s job loss and fear that she would never make it back into the fashion world, Juliet’s inability to make life in the city work, and on and on.
Throughout, Celia and Ivy listened passionately, their eyes enormous as they took it all in.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Juliet offered, swirling her wine in her glass. “Danica is just like me. She wants more than her family can give her. She wants adventure and intrigue. And she hates the prison she feels I’ve built around her. It’s the same way I used to hate Bluebell Cove.”
Ivy smiled and wrapped Juliet’s curl around her ear. It was an act of tenderness that reminded Juliet of their mother, and it took her breath away.
“I know you think I should be harder on her,” Juliet said. “But I don’t know how to. I’m so afraid that she’ll run away from me. I’m so afraid that she’ll…”
But here, she found she couldn’t say Callie’s name aloud. She could feel her sisters’ understanding buzzing between them. But they knew better than to say Callie’s name, too.
* * *
Thankfully, Ivy and Celia called their kids to let them know the party was off.
They’d be at Aunt Juliet’s for the time being, but they’d be home later.
When they hung up, they announced that the kids probably wouldn’t be home till much later, anyway.
It was summer in Bluebell Cove, which meant endless hours of beach picnics and swimming and barbecues and sailing.
Juliet remembered this from her childhood, of course. But she’d forgotten to romanticize it.
“I wish Danica would open herself up to all that,” Juliet said.
“Oh, come on,” Ivy said, laughing. “You spent a lot of time indoors, too. You and Theo Maddox used to lay around watching movies all summer long.” Again, she didn’t mention Callie.
At this, Juliet’s head rushed with the memory of the Fourth of July, and Celia gasped, as though she’d just remembered something.
“I owe you an apology,” she said to Juliet, her hand over her mouth.
Ivy and Juliet looked at Celia, waiting. Juliet couldn’t imagine what Celia had done. Had she overbooked her hours at the Eco-Lodge? Had she broken something?
“The thing is, yeah. Okay. Your old friend Theo has had some real problems this year with the tourism board,” Celia said, speaking too fast, too frantically.
“I was in the back office of city hall the other day, and I overheard that old windbag Calvin Parish giving him a lecture about fixing up his restaurant before the Christmas Festival. You know how Bluebell Cove is about Christmas? It’s like, triple that this year.
They’re going all out. Theo’s struggled with his restaurant for years.
He doesn’t have a natural business mind, but he’s brilliant in the kitchen. ”
Ivy nodded, raising her eyebrows. “We ate there about a month ago. We must have been the only customers he had that night! But it was divine.”
“It really was,” Celia breathed. “The best food I’ve had in a long time. I swear, I wanted to hire him on the spot to work at the Eco-Lodge, but I know he’s too proud for that.”
Juliet’s heart pounded. “I don’t understand. Why are you apologizing?”
Celia grimaced. “The thing is, I sort of said you were good at stuff like that?”
“Stuff like what?” Juliet asked.
“Branding? Stylizing spaces? Fashion? Social media? You sold your image for years and years, and I sort of know what work’s involved in that. You know what people like. What’s more, you’re from the city. You know what city people want when they come out to Bluebell Cove,” Celia said.
Juliet gaped at her older sister. “You told Theo I could help with his restaurant?”
“He’s desperate,” Celia said. “He needs to put together a business plan by the end of the week. I told him to reach out to you, but I guess I was right. He hasn’t called?”
“He wouldn’t call,” Juliet muttered. “I mean, that’s not Theo’s way.” Especially not after everything that happened between us.
Celia and Ivy exchanged panicked looks. Celia looked as though she was worried that all the “success” they’d just had with Juliet would melt away.
But then Juliet exhaled. “I called him once years ago. I’m embarrassed to say.
But I was about to marry Alvin. I felt so brokenhearted about everything.
About Theo. About Callie. About my family.
I got drunk off champagne and called Theo and told him I’d rather eat his food than anyone else’s food in the world.
And then, we hung up, and I got married.
” She raised her shoulders. “Life is weird.”
“It’s the strangest thing of all,” Celia agreed, raising her glass of wine.