Chapter 2
Marlowe
That night Marlowe couldn’t sleep. Why was that talk with her sister so disturbing?
Long after Sam had turned off her light across the hall Marlowe tossed in her new lilac-colored sheets.
Maybe she should find a movie on Netflix.
She reached for the remote on her nightstand.
But the TV might wake up her sister across the hall or Aunt Cate, in the master suite.
Marlowe set the remote back on the nightstand.
Throwing back her covers, she tiptoed to the window.
The moon was bright that night, throwing long slats of silver over the floor.
Opening the window sash slowly, she took a deep breath.
The fresh air felt good. They’d had central air put in last summer but it made her feel cooped up.
Good thing the screens were still on the windows.
Back in her bed, she pulled the covers up to her chin, turned onto one side and closed her eyes.
Fifteen minutes later she was still wide awake.
Drawing on a light bathrobe, she crept down the back stairway.
A night light burned in the kitchen, which still smelled faintly of the pasta Bolognese Aunt Cate had made that night.
She was such a good cook, although she’d made it clear that she wouldn’t cook every night.
That was fine with Sam and Marlowe. They all took turns or ordered out.
Feeling her way to the side porch, Marlowe pushed the door open. Why hadn't she brought her flashlight? Slippers would have been a good idea too. Exploring with her toes, she felt her way between the wicker sofa and one of the rockers.
Gabby Driscoll had done such a great job with this porch.
The threadbare, musty cushions were gone, replaced by a smart combination of blue and aqua.
The colors made her feel that she was down at the water’s edge on a sunny summer day.
Of course Gabby had fancy names for those colors but Marlowe could never remember them.
She tumbled into the double hammock and pulled up an old blue and yellow quilt.
Marlowe remembered cuddling on this hammock when Mom was expecting Isabel. Her baby sister had been late in coming. And they all joked that the Izzy’s habit of being late had started in the womb. Letting one foot rest on the floor, Marlowe gave it a nudge and began to rock.
With the old blue quilt around her, Marlowe could almost feel her mother here again. “Oh Mom, I sure wish you were with us now. I really need some help.” That talk with Sam had brought up stuff. Issues she hadn’t thought about before.
Down below she heard the restless waves against the shore.
That sandcastle the young mother had been building with her children was probably long gone.
A breeze had come up and the pine trees rustled overhead with the occasional creak of the old oak tree that shaded the porch.
Seeing that young family had stirred something inside.
“Have I missed something, Mom? The motherhood thing––am I going to regret that someday? Being a mom was really important to you.”
Her parents had been taken much too early on a snowy night during the holidays.
The Quinn family had come from Chicago to celebrate because Chicago had no snow.
Their parents had run out to do last minute shopping.
The accident on the slick, twisty road had been quick and final.
Seventeen at the time, Sam became head of their family.
Aunt Cate and Uncle Monty had helped plenty that first year.
A light snapped on in the kitchen. “Who's there?” Marlowe called out.
“Just little old me. Who were you talking to?” Aunt Cate appeared in the doorway in a flowing pink caftan. Since her bedroom had been redone, Aunt Cate had started wearing the same bright shade of peony pink used in her room.
“Myself,” Marlowe said. No way would she admit she’d been talking to her mother. Her aunt was carrying something and the smell of fresh bakery made Marlowe hungry. “Come sit with me. Hope you’re going to share whatever that is. I think I smell almond and pear.”
“I'll get a knife.” Cate turned to go back into the kitchen but Marlowe stopped her.
“I’m kidding. Don't you dare. I've already eaten way more of those pear tarts than I should. I’m on a diet. Some days I think Izzy should sell that bakery.”
“The town would plan an insurrection.”
“Probably.” Marlowe moved to make room in the double hammock, but Aunt Cate had other ideas.
Her dressing gown billowing around her, Aunt Cate settled into one of the rockers, plate in hand. “Whatever are you doing up in the middle of the night? I thought you went to bed a long time ago.”
Marlowe hesitated. “I can't sleep.”
“I hope you aren't letting that real estate career rob you of sleep,” her aunt mumbled between bites. “I thought we all moved here to relax and enjoy the casual lifestyle.” Her aunt was almost retired now. She had competent people running her law firm in New York.
“Casual?” That made Marlowe chuckle. “I’m far from retired. I’m building my business, with Gabby’s help.”
“Yes, but don't let that career become your life.” Setting the empty plate aside, her aunt began to rock. The only sounds were the creak of the hammock ropes and the sound of the old wicker rocker.
“Okay, I admit I’m thinking about serious things that aren’t business related.” She’d always considered her aunt a wise woman but she rarely got her alone. This was a delicate question, and Marlowe might as well ask it now. “Do you ever regret not having children, Aunt Cate?”
The rocking stopped. After a ladylike cough, Aunt Cate cleared her throat but said nothing. Marlowe felt terrible. The question had been abrupt and rude. If her mother were here, she would say, “Always smile and never pry.”
But Aunt Cate didn’t look offended. Marlowe was so relieved when her aunt said, “Let’s just say that having you girls took away the sting.”
“So there was a sting?” Her stomach sinking, Marlowe jumped on the words.
She knew her sisters also wondered why they never had any cousins.
There had been many a night where they’d named the children Aunt Cate and Uncle Monty might have.
Brandon and Clarice had been at the top of the list. They’d been dying for cousins but had of course never said a thing.
“Please understand. Uncle Monty and I were both very involved with our careers. Establishing our own law practice was important to us. Still...”
The longing in her voice made Marlowe gulp. Her aunt was usually so upbeat, so perky. Maybe she felt she had to be that way with her nieces. Now they were two women discussing important issues. Marlowe wanted to kick herself for starting this.
“Things were different back then,” Aunt Cate continued. “There weren’t as many opportunities available for couples who had trouble conceiving. We had our hopes, but it just wasn’t to be.”
Silence fell and a lone owl hooted among the tall trees. After her aunt’s admission, the sound felt mournful. Marlowe wanted to kick herself. She’d made her aunt revisit a painful part of her past. Although Aunt Cate and Uncle Monty had been so happy, maybe something had been lacking.
Where did she go from here? Unfortunately Aunt Cate was not known for letting things drop. Oh, no. She was sharp as a whip. Marlowe sure wouldn’t want to be in a courtroom being cross-examined by Cate Conway.
“Sweetheart, are you thinking about that?” Aunt Cate said. The reluctance in her voice was obvious. She was like a doctor probing to find our where it hurt. “Having a baby, I mean? You’re only forty...”
Marlowe snorted. “Only forty? In magazine articles doctors call us geriatric patients.” The pear tart was gone and now Marlowe had her aunt’s full attention.
“We? So you were talking about this with someone else? Maybe Samantha?”
Aunt Cate was pulling things together. But Sam would kill Marlowe if she gave any indication that she was thinking about this. Marlowe hadn’t gone to all the trouble of moving from Florida so that she could alienate her sister.
Giving the hammock another casual push with one foot, Marlowe said, “Just reading and thinking about it.” That was partially true. Having a niece like baby Holly was enough to start any woman thinking about babies and toddlers. Izzy’s adopted baby was so darn cute.
The wicker rocker squeaked as Aunt Cate sat there silently rocking.
Maybe Marlowe should leave this alone. But she loved having Aunt Cate all to herself.
“It's never too late,” her aunt said. “I think the way things are right now, just about anyone could have a baby. Do you think that Brad would like a family?”
“I have no idea what Brad thinks.” Marlowe lifted her eyes to the painted blue porch haint ceiling that was supposed to keep evil spirits away.
“We’re running buddies, nothing more.” If only that were true.
Marlowe was becoming uncertain about her feelings for Brad Howington.
Unlike the men she’d known, Brad seemed authentic.
Caring and funny. Plus he looked great in his running clothes.
“You girls volunteer at Tall Oaks, so I guess you see him there. Bingo, isn't it?”
Aunt Cate knew darn well that Marlowe and her sisters volunteered in pairs, depending on their schedule. And Brad, the owner of the facility, often strolled in to talk to them. Sam and Izzy thought he only showed up to talk to Marlowe.
Somewhere in the darkness the owl hooted again. Was the poor thing looking for a partner? Usually Marlowe found the sound comforting. Relaxing. But not tonight.
“Sam has started volunteering at the hospital. You know, in addition to the bingo.”
Her aunt sat up straighter “Does she have time for all that? I thought she was continuing with her agency. My, you two are really building ties in the community.”
“We’ve been coming here for years. And now we’re not summer people anymore.
Maybe it’s time to give back.” She didn't know how young they’d been when they’d started joining their grandparents at the lake.
Although they were both long gone, Marlowe still recalled the smell of bread baking when Grandma Nora worked in the kitchen.
Grandpa Clarence would sit out on this screen porch, puffing on a cigar and listening to a Chicago Cubs game on the radio.
Once their grandparents were gone, the summer house was passed down to Aunt Cate and Mom.
Now the three sisters owned it jointly with their aunt.
“Apparently someone gave the new volunteers a tour.
That's where Sam saw the babies. The volunteers get to rock them sometimes.” If Marlowe could see her aunt's face, her eyes would probably be round as apples.
Aunt Cate chuckled. “I wouldn't think holding a screaming infant would make a woman want to have one of her own.”
That made Marlowe smile. “Maybe the baby stops crying when it’s being rocked.
I wouldn’t know. My time as a single woman in Florida didn’t offer any experiences like that.
In any case there you have it. Please don’t tell Sam that I mentioned this to you.
We just got talking about it on the beach. She'd have my head.”
“Tick a lock.” Lifting manicured fingers to her lips, Aunt Cate twisted them and sighed. “I would think there’s a piece missing. You know, for both of you.”
“What piece?” Marlowe fought a yawn.
“The husband piece, dear.” Her aunt sounded frustrated. “I know this is a modern age but certainly a family works well with two people as parents. Raising a child is a lot of work. I’m so glad Izzy and Skipper decided to remarry.”
“Sometimes marriage isn’t possible, Aunt Cate.” Marlowe didn’t want to have to explain it again. “You were lucky to find Uncle Monty in law school. Some of us leave school without a partner.”
“Yes, I realize that.” Her aunt’s voice was clipped.
“I’m just talking off the top of my head.
Don’t think I know everything.” And with that Marlowe rolled out of the hammock and nearly landed on her knees.
That would hurt. She had to grab the hammock to help pull herself up.
“Boy, I am tired. All these questions and your delicious pear tart made me hungry. Any left?” Diets were highly overrated.
“Two. Not that I'm counting.” Aunt Cate’s eyes sparkled.
“Remember, not a word to Sam about our little talk.” Marlowe headed for the kitchen.
“Of course not, dear.”
Marlowe stopped at the new kitchen island.
Leaning against the cool marble, she realized she hadn’t asked about Seth Barrett.
Darn it. The handsome contractor had been hanging around Sunnycrest after the work was finished.
Sam and Marlowe suspected that their aunt and Seth weren’t talking about paint colors or hinges.
Hesitating, Marlowe almost turned back. But the overpowering scent of pear pastries clung to the air.
She yanked the refrigerator open where they kept desserts that might attract mice. Her questions would have to wait.