Gift of Friends

Chapter Twenty-One

Lynette closed the door to her cabin, not bothering with the lock. She felt perfectly safe at Whispering Pines—and besides, the temperature inside would scare anyone away, whether friend or foe.

At first, her cold shower kept her comfortable enough to sit at the small kitchen table and peruse Renee’s scrapbook. After studying the additional photos, she switched to reading a book. Even though the first few pages of her borrowed novel proved promising, the air inside her tiny cabin had begun to feel oppressive. Since there was no screened-in porch, it was time to head to Jackie and Kit’s unit.

She paused at the base of her cabin’s stairs to look back at the small structure. The setting sun reflected off cheery red trim that contrasted nicely with dark wood siding. Annuals cascaded from the flower box lining the single front window. All together, it created a welcoming scene.

It made her think of her small garden shed back home. It wouldn’t take much more work before that facelift was also complete.

The buzz of insects filled the warm, humid air. She’d placed one of Renee’s new red chairs in front of her cabin days earlier in the hopes of a relaxing evening or two outside, but the mosquitoes would eat her alive. Thankfully, she’d already warned her friends she might borrow their screened-in porch for the evening.

She wondered if the cement sidewalk beneath her bare feet was once nothing more than a dirt path, back in the days of the earliest photographs of Whispering Pines that she’d found in the scrapbook. Or maybe stones or bricks once led the way, replaced over time with a more practical surface. Convenience over charm had its place, but what had this place looked like fifty or even a hundred years ago? She’d have to ask Renee about the resort’s origin.

The walkway to Jackie and Kit’s cabin passed behind the three cabins closest to the firepit, and she wondered whether Annie was relaxing inside her unit. Hopefully her friend was enjoying some well-deserved alone time.

Lynette caught a whiff of burning wood. Someone had lit the firepit. She spied Donna and Lavonne sitting there, talking. Their voices floated her way, but she continued on, liking the idea of her mother forming friendships with the other moms.

When she reached her destination, she didn’t see either Kit or Jackie. Both were probably inside, doing their own things, too.

She knew that not all of their future girls’ trips would be long enough to enjoy plenty of both togetherness and alone time, but the ease with which they could bounce between the two was a definite perk of this vacation. Since she’d already mentioned relaxing on their porch, she was as quiet as she could be as she let herself in.

A yank on the chain hanging from the center of the porch’s ceiling fan created a pleasant stir to the air. A long wicker sofa ran parallel with the front of the porch, its back against the screen. Comfortable pillows beckoned, and she realized no one walking by would even see her if she laid on the couch. Heck, maybe she’d even fall asleep here. A light breeze and the fan were already helping to lower her body temperature.

Once settled, she opened her novel and searched for the paragraph where she’d left off. It was almost too dim to make out the words, but she ignored the little lamp next to the sofa, enjoying the solitude.

A voice reached her, and the word “magical” distracted her from her reading. She closed the book and let it rest on her stomach. It felt good to just relax.

Then she heard her mother’s voice on the breeze. “Oh, Lavonne, as mothers, we never stop worrying about our kids, do we? It took me a long time before I was comfortable with the risks my Lynette was taking in building her business.”

Lynette smiled. She was familiar with her mother’s concerns. “Our business, Donna,” she whispered.

She really shouldn’t eavesdrop. It wasn’t polite. Donna and Lavonne deserved their privacy. She opened the book again, found her spot, and started to read. It was a romance, so she already knew the couple would end up together in the end.

Then Lavonne’s voice cut into her concentration. “Celia gave up on some of her big dreams to help raise the boys and nurse her mother back to health.”

She closed the novel again and set the book on the floor. Despite Renee’s promises to tell them more about her aunt, they hadn’t talked in depth about her yet. She doubted Lavonne would share any secrets with Donna that Lynette wasn’t supposed to hear, so she gave herself permission to close her eyes and listen. If the two women were discussing anything they didn’t want others to hear, they would have taken their conversation back to the duplex for privacy, right?

Lynette smirked. Fine, maybe I’m rationalizing a little. But what could it hurt?

Lavonne was still talking. “I can’t even imagine the level of discrimination she would have faced in the business world, but she persisted and eventually flourished.”

Lynette shifted from her back to her side on the couch to make it a little easier to hear the conversation happening over by the fire. Renee’s mother shared some of the personal tragedies Celia suffered during her younger years that had to have made her life difficult. Even though Lynette had always been an only child, she couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a younger sister, only eighteen years old. How could someone get through something so horrific?

Realizing she’d lost the thread of their conversation again, Lynette tried to tune back in. The noise of the ceiling fan was making it a little difficult.

“It isn’t something I talk about. Ever. Lynette doesn’t even know.”

Her mother’s words brought Lynette up to a seated position, her ears straining to catch every syllable now. It was wrong to keep listening. She knew that. But it was like a person’s reaction when they pass a mangled vehicle on the freeway. You know you should look away, but you just can’t help yourself.

“My little sister’s death was tragic, too, but it wasn’t unavoidable. Violence killed her.”

Lynette shot to her feet and reached for the chain on the fan. It wobbled when she yanked it harder than necessary, desperate to cut off the steady whoosh of the fan’s blades.

Little sister?

What little sister?

Her mother had a sister?

Even from this distance, she heard Donna snort. “It all happened over fifty years ago,” she was saying. “Everyone involved is dead now. Except for me.”

Dead?

“I never wanted Lynette to know the truth.”

Too late, Mom,she thought. And then: I need to stop listening.

Lavonne’s calming voice reached Lynette. “If you don’t want to share the specifics of your sister’s death, Donna, I understand . . . Just tell me that whoever hurt your sister paid the price for whatever it was they did to her.”

“As far as I know, he never did. Not in this world, at least. To be honest, the moment we turned away from Irene’s grave after her funeral, I ran. I ran and I never looked back.”

Irene? Who was Irene?

“I know he did,” Donna was saying in answer to some question Lavonne had asked. “My father was an angry man with a hair-trigger temper. I lost count of the number of black eyes my mother tried to explain away.”

Mom’s father is my grandfather, Lynette thought, covering her mouth in horror.

“To her credit, I know at least one or two of those happened when I’d misbehaved and she was trying to protect me. He only ever hit me once, but I stood up to him. I don’t think anyone else ever had, and it was the last time he laid a hand on me.”

Lynette grabbed one pillow from the sofa and hugged it tightly against her stomach. She’d waited her whole life to learn more about her mother’s family.

She grimaced. Happy birthday to me.

She wished now that she’d never asked her mother about her childhood. She must have caused the woman so much pain, forcing her to remember these horrific things, even if she’d never actually opened up to Lynette about them.

“Then I heard my sister’s voice, begging Father to let go of Mother. There was a different type of scream then, and I couldn’t tell if it was Mother or Irene. I ran out of the room just in time to see my sister fall over the banister at the top of the stairs. I was too late to save her.”

Lynette stood again. She stepped to the screen door, her eyes on the back of a cabin that stood between her and Donna. An almost overwhelming impulse to run to her mother’s side washed through her, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t dare, since she wasn’t supposed to be hearing this conversation.

“She thinks I ran away from home because I was pregnant with her and my parents cut me out of their lives.”

Lynette realized she was suddenly part of Donna and Lavonne’s conversation again.

Her mother was still talking. “I was a virgin when I left. But I was such a mess, and had no way to support myself, that I suppose I confused sex for love. It was the end of the 1960s and I was only eighteen years old when I left home. I knew the trauma over my father’s abuse and my sister’s death had me all screwed up, and for two years I left a string of losers in my wake. When I realized I’d ended up pregnant, I knew I couldn’t go back home. I’d slammed that door and locked it tight. There were some tough years ahead, but things got better when we ended up in Ruby Shores.”

String of losers . . . ?

The jumbled, stolen pieces of her mother’s conversation fell into place.

How much of my life is a lie?

She jumped at the sound of a door opening.

“Lynette, what the heck are you doing, standing out here in the dark?”

She spun to face Kit. The backlighting made it impossible to read her friend’s expression.

“Umm . . .” Lynette struggled to form a cohesive sentence.

“Are you all right? Why don’t you come inside?”

She shook her head and turned back toward the firepit. “I have to hear the rest of this.”

She could have tried to pretend she was doing something other than eavesdropping, but Kit would probably see right through her lies. Besides, she had to listen for any other secrets her own mother might feel inclined to share with nearly complete strangers.

“Hear what?” Kit asked.

Lynette heard her step onto the porch and pull the door shut behind her.

“Jackie is clicking away on the computer back in her room,” Kit said. Her voice sounded abnormally loud in the hush of the porch.

“Shh!”Lynette hissed. “My mom is out by the fire, talking to Lavonne.”

Kit took a step forward to stand next to her. She was wearing a flowered wrap robe and a towel around her hair. “And you’re, what . . . trying to listen to what they’re saying? From here? In the dark?”

At least Kit was whispering now. Lynette ignored the judgment in her tone.

“Yes, and trust me when I say I’m not proud of myself, but the conversation has been incredibly enlightening up to this point. You can either stay here and shut up, or you can go back inside.”

Lynette could feel Kit’s gaze through the semidarkness, but she didn’t care. There seemed to be a larger variety of voices coming from the direction of the firepit now.

“Is Annie out there with them?” Kit asked.

Despite everything, Lynette couldn’t help but grin at Kit as her friend turned her head and leaned closer to the screen, as if also trying to hear what was being said. “I don’t think so. That’s Patsy talking. I never realized how similar they sound. She just said how much she loves being a great-grandmother.”

Kit chuckled. “Fine. This sounds pretty harmless. But let’s sit down at least. I don’t want someone to walk by and catch our two shadows standing here, eavesdropping.”

They hurried over to the couch where Lynette had laid down to read earlier.

“. . . I warned her that she was playing with fire. Moving in with two male roommates.”

Kit poked Lynette. “That’s Patsy, and she’s talking about how she warned Annie not to live with Henry and Michael after she moved to Minneapolis. Remember how Annie met both of them on that mission trip she took after college?”

“I remember,” Lynette whispered. “But hush. We might miss something good.”

She caught Charlotte’s distinct laugh, then her voice. “As they say, live and learn. I had my doubts, too, when my Jackie married Todd.”

“Good thing Jackie isn’t out here,” Kit whispered. “I wouldn’t want her to hear her mother say something unflattering.”

You have no idea,Lynette thought. But she intended to keep the things she’d heard earlier to herself, at least for now.

Lavonne was talking now. “Don’t worry about it. To be honest, sometimes Renee feels a little left out, too. It bothers her, but I understand.”

“Aww, I hate that she feels that way,” Kit muttered. “I never want Renee to feel left out. I know she told us she does sometimes, but it must be worse than we thought if she told her mom.”

Lynette nodded.

“Dang. I can’t quite hear everything they’re saying,” Kit whispered. “They should talk louder.”

Lynette held a pillow to her own face to stifle the sound of her laughter.

“I know, I know,” Kit said. “I was too quick to judge.”

Then they heard Lynette’s mother say, “Why don’t Jackie and Owen take a chance on a real relationship?”

Kit giggled. “See, even Donna thinks Jackie should finally test the waters with Owen!”

“I used to wonder the same thing. But my daughter is pig-headed.”

“Oh, Charlotte thinks it, too!” Kit giggled again. “All right. I’ll admit that this is kind of fun.”

Lynette didn’t respond. What she’d overheard earlier was anything but fun—not that she had any desire to share that part of the conversation with Kit or anyone else. Then she cringed when she heard the next words that floated over to them. Donna was talking again.

“But I’m one to talk. Poor Lynette. I don’t think she’s gone out on a single date since we moved back to Ruby Shores. I sometimes blame myself and my horrendous dating history for her apparent aversion to any kind of long-term relationship.”

Lynette tossed the pillow she’d used to stifle her earlier giggles onto the chair on the other side of the porch. “I’m not averse to a long-term relationship!” she hissed. “I just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

“Hmm,” was all Kit had to say to that.

“We can’t blame ourselves for our children’s misadventures in romance.”

“Who said that?” Kit asked.

Lynette wasn’t sure, but then Charlotte started talking again.

“Maybe Kit was the smartest one of the group. She held out until a couple years ago in the marriage department, and as far as I know, she’s quite happy with Dean.”

Kit stood and executed a deep curtsy. The towel unraveled from her hair and fell to the porch floor. “Are you listening to this, Lynette? Remember, Mother knows best. You guys thought I was a scaredy-cat, but it sounds like I was just smart.”

Lynette scooped up the towel and snapped it at Kit in jest. “I don’t know, Kit. I’ve avoided marriage altogether. Maybe I’m the smart one.” She swung the towel at her friend again, but this time Kit snagged it back.

“Can you imagine the five of us at their age, sitting around the fire like they’re doing now, picking apart the lives of our kids?” Kit said. “I wonder what will be happening in Isaac’s life in twenty years.”

Although Lynette didn’t have kids, the question was an interesting one. Even Annie’s granddaughter would be a young adult in twenty years. The thought made her shiver.

Time passes too quickly.

She recognized the sound of her mother’s voice again. “Do you ever get sick of only thinking about the wellbeing of our families? Our grown kids? Your grandkids?” There was a pause, then she went on. “I’m not ashamed to admit that I still have dreams I’d love to pursue. Are we too old to do that now? We’re all in our seventies, right?”

Kit froze. She must have heard Donna’s question, too. “That’s weird. I was just wondering what it would feel like to be seventy.”

“Shh! I want to hear this,” Lynette said, hushing her noisy friend yet again.

“By now you’ve all heard of Celia, right?”

Lynette pointed toward the fire. “That’s Lavonne.”

“I know,” Kit said. She sat next to Lynette again.

Lynette strained to listen. She really wanted to hear what else Lavonne had to say about Celia.

“Well, she lived to be in her nineties, and she was still working and doing fun things with the resources she’d built for herself, right until the end.”

Kit nodded through the shadows, as if also encouraged by Celia’s longevity, and they heard Donna prompt Lavonne to tell them her dream.

“I guess the thing that pops into my mind relates to Celia,” Lavonne said. “On the one hand, even though I loved Celia and respected her for all her accomplishments, I did feel like I lived in her shadow. I’m not sure I ever made a difference in anything—at least not the way Celia did.”

Kit made a clucking noise. “That’s sad.”

Charlotte must have felt the same as Kit, because Lynette heard the woman interrupt Renee’s mother. “Why do we sell ourselves so short? Lavonne, you just finished telling me you have four grown children, and if they are all as amazing as Renee, I’d say you’ve accomplished plenty. And then there are all your grandchildren. I’ve always felt that raising kids is the most important work anyone can do. Nothing affects the world more.”

Lynette struggled to pick out a few more sentences before Lavonne chimed back in. “Fine, I won’t argue with any of that, but my dream is still somewhat related to Celia. She left an incredible legacy. Money can’t buy happiness and all of that, but it can really help those in need. I want to use the resources we still have—including our inheritance from Celia—to keep helping others. To keep Celia’s legacy alive.”

In that moment, Lynette knew she’d have given Lavonne a pat on the back for harboring a dream like that. She often felt the same pull; she often worried she was falling short.

Jackie’s mom went on to talk about how she used to dream of escaping Minnesota in the winter. Lynette wasn’t surprised when Annie’s mom mentioned their second home in Arizona and something about a neighbor.

Kit shifted on the sofa next to her. “I figured Patsy might have some ideas when Jackie’s mom started talking about going south in the winter. I loved their house in Arizona. That was a birthday I’ll never forget.”

Lynette nodded. That had been a glorious trip. But she was dying to hear what her mother might say about her own neglected dreams.

“I’d move away.”

She felt Kit’s hand on her arm. “Wait. Who said that?!”

“Donna,” Lynette whispered, praying Kit would be quiet. Had she heard her mother correctly?

“Do you mean, like . . . just for the winter?” Patsy stammered. “It is a nice break to get away for a few months.”

“No.”

Lynette tried as hard as she could to hear her mother’s words.

“I mean that my dream for many years has been to live in Europe during the summer months and then somewhere with pure white beaches and bright blue ocean waves in the winter.”

“Oh, man . . .” Kit muttered. She no longer sounded as enthusiastic about their spying.

“Why did you move to Ruby Shores with Lynette, then?” Charlotte asked. “And why did you buy such a big house? I mean, it’s beautiful, but it’s also old and huge. None of that jives with what you just said your dream was.”

Lynette felt like the porch was spinning out from under her.

“I’m not really sure,” she heard Donna admit. “Escaping New York was our immediate focus. Ruby Shores felt like the safe bet. The pandemic was still picking up speed and there were so many unknowns. But for the past few months, I’ve been worried that it might have been a mistake. Not that I can do anything about it now. I made a commitment to Lynette, and I need to stick with it.”

Kit squeezed her arm. Lynette had almost forgotten her friend was there with her.

“She doesn’t really mean it,” Kit said, her voice rising above a whisper. “She’s probably drinking wine.”

“But you’re the one who wanted to talk about dreams.” Patsy’s voice floated through the screen. “Why would you do that if you thought yours was unattainable?”

Regret welled up in Lynette. She should never have listened to this private conversation between her mother and her new friends. She could picture Donna’s answering shrug to Patsy’s question before her mother even replied.

“I guess I’m either a glutton for punishment or I want to live vicariously through you.”

Kit grabbed Lynette’s hand, stood, tugged. “We should go inside. We weren’t meant to hear this.”

Lynette pulled her hand away. “It’s too late now. We might as well hear them out. Go inside if you like.”

Patsy was talking again. “. . . Annie told me once that my trips were her inspiration behind these annual trips they take now. But my old group is all gone. My friend Betsy was my last hope, but she passed when I was on an anniversary cruise with my husband. So I have a proposition for you three—and Kit’s mom, too, if she’s interested.”

Kit hadn’t left Lynette, so she heard the mention of her own mother. “And here I thought everyone forgot about Mia. You know what she’s going to suggest, right?”

“I can probably guess,” Lynette said.

“I think this quick little getaway to Whispering Pines should be the first of many trips we take together!” Patsy said.

“Yep, there it is,” Kit said. “Somehow I’m struggling to imagine my mother doing anything with Donna, Charlotte, Lavonne, and Patsy.”

Lynette was having trouble concentrating. Kit’s comment regarding Mia didn’t surprise her, given the complicated mother-daughter relationship the pair had always endured. But prior to overhearing Donna’s comments tonight, she thought the relationship she enjoyed with her own mother was special. Maybe even bulletproof. Suddenly, she worried everything they’d built rested on a shaky foundation of lies. Even her own lineage was something very different from what Donna had always led her to believe. Did her mother even know which of her “string of losers,” as she’d so eloquently called the early men in her life, had fathered Lynette?

Her mind drifted back to the sunny morning when she’d visited the cemetery on the edge of Ruby Shores, intent on learning more about Sybil and her family. Even in death, their love and support were obvious. Lynette remembered walking back out of those iron gates toward home, intent on asking her mother to tell her more about their family.

Now, here she was a week or two later, feeling like she’d give anything to erase the truth.

This time, when Kit tried to pull her to her feet, Lynette allowed it.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Lynette.”

All she could do was nod and follow Kit into the cabin’s front room. She went to close the door behind them—she’d heard more than enough—when she heard one last thing out of Charlotte.

“Now, Donna . . . let’s talk about this Chester fellow.”