Chapter 7
LORI
Two weeks. Lori had been living at Seabird Cottage for exactly two weeks, and the transformation in her daily life was remarkable. The cottage no longer felt like someone else’s space she was borrowing. It felt like her summer home.
She’d settled into a rhythm that both grounded and energized her.
Mornings began with coffee on the porch, watching the sunrise paint the ocean in shades of pink and gold.
Then she and Misty would take their walk along the beach, sometimes venturing farther down the coastline to explore new stretches of sand and rock.
The shepherd knew every path, every secret cove, and Lori was learning them too.
After breakfast, she’d lose herself in her art.
The ambitious seascape series was coming together beautifully, better than anything she’d created in years.
She’d set up a proper studio space in the sunroom, with her easel positioned to catch the northern light.
The paintings captured something essential about Pelican Bay.
The way the water moved was alive and ever-changing.
The quality of light was unique to this place.
The sense of timelessness that permeated everything here.
Afternoons brought Piper home from summer camp, bursting with stories and energy. The girl would arrive with her infectious enthusiasm, ready to take Misty on adventures. Sometimes Lori joined them, sometimes she stayed behind to paint, knowing Misty was in the best possible hands.
This morning followed the familiar pattern. Lori and Misty had walked all the way to the point and back, collecting sea glass that Lori was planning to incorporate into a mosaic project. Now she was in the kitchen, making herself a second cup of coffee, when her phone rang.
The name on the screen made her smile. Tessa Ryder. Carrie’s daughter.
“Hello, Tessa,” Lori answered warmly. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“Hi, Lori,” Tessa’s voice came through, professional and composed as always. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Not at all. How are things in Boston?”
“The same as always. Hot, humid, and too crowded.” Tessa laughed. “But I’m not calling to complain about the city. I wanted to check in on you. Mom mentioned you’ve settled in well at the cottage.”
“I have,” Lori said, moving to the porch with her coffee. “It’s been wonderful. The cottage is perfect, Misty is an angel, and the island is beautiful.”
“That’s great to hear.” Tessa paused before saying, “Mom also mentioned you’ve met the neighbors. Mitch and Piper?”
“I have. They’ve been very welcoming. Piper comes over almost every day to walk Misty. They’re devoted to each other,” Lori said with a fond laugh.
“I love Piper and her grandfather; they are really good people,” Tessa said.
“They are, and Mitch has been very helpful,” Lori told her. “He’s fixed some stuck windows for me, that sort of thing.”
“Yes, that seems like something Mitch would do,” Tessa said. “And otherwise? How has everything been? Are you feeling safe there?”
The question caught Lori off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I know the house, remember.” Tessa’s voice dipped. “Uh… I’ve always felt a little… spooked there, and I worry about mom being alone there, although she has a gun, and I’m worried about you there all alone.”
“I’m fine,” Lori said automatically. Then, because it was Tessa and she’d known this girl since she was born, she added, “Though I have to admit, sometimes I feel like someone’s watching me.”
Silence on the other end. “What do you mean, watching you?”
“It’s probably nothing,” Lori said quickly. “Just a feeling. You know how it is in a new place. Every sound seems amplified, every shadow seems suspicious.”
“Have you seen anyone? Anything suspicious?” Tessa’s voice was filled with worry.
Lori thought about the man in the tan windbreaker. The cigarette butt under her window. The sedan parked at the end of the road. Put together like that, it sounded ominous. But each incident on its own could have a perfectly innocent explanation.
“Not really,” Lori said. “Just feelings. I’m probably being paranoid.”
“Trust your instincts,” Tessa said firmly. “If something feels off, it probably is. Have you told Mom or Mitch about this?” She paused. “I think he was in some government law agency.”
“No. You’re the first person I mentioned it to.” Lori gave a nervous laugh. “Like I said, it’s probably nothing.”
“Lori.” Tessa’s voice held the patience of someone who dealt with reluctant witnesses for a living.
“Promise me you’ll be careful. Lock your doors and windows.
Stay aware of your surroundings. And if anything else happens, anything at all, you call me immediately.
Or call Mitch. Or call the police. Just don’t ignore it. ”
“I promise,” Lori said, touched by the concern in Tessa’s voice.
“Good. Actually, that’s part of why I’m calling. I have some time off coming up, and I haven’t seen you in almost two years. Mom thought it might be nice if I came up for a visit. Stay a few days, make sure you’re settling in okay. What do you think?” Tessa asked.
Relief flooded through Lori so intensely that it surprised her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been wanting someone from her old life to visit, to ground her, to make this feel less like she was drifting in a beautiful but uncertain limbo.
“That would be wonderful,” Lori said, meaning it. “When were you thinking?”
“How about this weekend? I could drive up Saturday morning, and stay through Tuesday?” Tessa suggested. “I want to spend time with Mom and Maggie in Florida, which is where I’m going to head afterward.”
“That sounds perfect. I’ll get the guest room ready.” Lori hoped Tessa couldn’t hear the relief flooding her voice. “Oh, Tessa, I’m so glad you’re coming. I’ve missed you and your mother so much.”
“Me too,” Tessa said, warmth replacing the professional concern. “It’ll be good to see you.”
They talked for a few more minutes, making plans for the weekend, before hanging up. Lori sat on the porch, cradling her coffee, feeling lighter than she had in days. Tessa was coming. She’d have company, conversation, someone to share this experience with.
She spent the day preparing for Tessa’s visit. The guest room needed fresh sheets and a thorough cleaning. She vacuumed and dusted, washed the windows, and arranged fresh flowers from the garden in a vase on the dresser. The room was small but charming, with an ocean view and its own reading nook.
In the afternoon, she ventured back to the attic to see if there was anything else she could use to make the room more welcoming. That was where she found the photo albums.
They were tucked in an old trunk, wrapped carefully in tissue paper. Three leather-bound albums, their pages slightly yellowed but perfectly preserved. Lori carried them down to the living room and settled into the bay window nook to look through them.
Martha’s life unfolded before her in black-and-white photographs.
A young woman in a wedding dress, standing beside a handsome man in a Navy uniform.
The same couple, older now, with three small children on the cottage porch.
Martha, at various ages, always with that same kind smile, that same strength in her eyes.
Lori traced her finger over one photo. Martha in her garden, maybe sixty years old, holding a basket of vegetables, her face tilted toward the sun. She looked content. At peace. Like a woman who knew exactly who she was and what mattered.
“You had a good life,” Lori whispered to the image. “You were loved, and you loved well. Thank you for letting me live in your home. Thank you for watching over me.”
The cottage settled around her with a soft creak, and Lori caught the faint scent of lavender. Martha’s response, perhaps. An acknowledgment of the gratitude.
The afternoon drifted into evening, and Lori realized with a start that she needed to get ready. She’d accepted Piper and Mitch’s invitation to dinner at Sunrise House, and she didn’t want to be late.
She showered and changed into a simple sundress, something casual but pretty.
She brushed out her hair and left it loose around her shoulders.
A touch of makeup, just enough to feel put together.
When she looked in the mirror, she saw color in her cheeks, a brightness in her eyes that had been missing for too long.
“This is just dinner with neighbors,” she told her reflection. “Nothing more.”
But her racing heart suggested otherwise.
Mitch answered the door in jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair still damp from a recent shower, and Lori’s stomach did a small flip. He smiled when he saw her, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made something warm bloom in her chest.
“You look lovely,” he said.
“Thank you,” she managed. “You look nice too.”
“Lori!” Piper appeared behind Mitch, grinning. “Come in!” She looked beside Lori to where Misty was sitting. “Hey, Misty.”
The evening unfolded with easy domesticity.
They ate on the back porch, overlooking the ocean as the sun set in brilliant shades of orange and purple.
Mitch had grilled chicken and vegetables, simple but perfectly prepared.
Piper chattered about summer camp, about the talent show they were planning, about how she was going to do a magic act.
Lori found herself relaxing completely, laughing at Piper’s stories, and having comfortable conversations with Mitch about everything and nothing. It felt like family. Like belonging. Like something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing until she found it here.
After dinner, they played a board game that descended into cheerful chaos when Piper insisted on making up her own rules. By the time Lori glanced at her phone, it was nearly ten o’clock.
“I should get going,” she said reluctantly. “It’s past someone’s bedtime.”
“It’s summer,” Piper protested. “There’s no bedtime in summer.”
“There’s definitely bedtime,” Mitch said. “Go brush your teeth.”