Chapter 3
Sara sipped her chardonnay as she gazed around the Chatham Squire restaurant. She was sitting at the horseshoe-shaped bar with Courtney and Kevin. A band was setting up nearby and the place was busy, with people of all ages having dinner. Servers rushed by carrying plates of fried clams and lobster rolls. The clams smelled amazing.
“Tom’s missing out,” Kevin said as the bartender set down steamed lobster dinners for each of them. Sara had debated whether to go out with them without Tom and finally decided to do it. And she was glad that she did. They all had steamers, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes with their lobster and melted butter, and it was delicious.
Sara laughed. “He definitely is.”
“I’m so glad you decided to come out,” Courtney said.
It was nice to just get out and talk to adults for a change. It had been months since they’d had a night out with their friends, so Sara hated to skip it, especially if Tom was just going to be in his home office working.
After they finished eating, they ordered another round of drinks and listened to the first set of the band that was playing. The music was good, a mix of new and old rock. When the band took a break, Sara checked the time on her phone. It was still early. And there had been no urgent messages to come home, which was nice. Tom was handling things.
“Are you excited for your sister to come home for the summer?” Courtney asked.
“I’m looking forward to seeing her. We talk often, but she hasn’t come home much in recent years. Except at the end, of course, but we were focused on my mom then.”
“It will be nice for her to enjoy the summer and relax,” Courtney said.
Sara agreed. “I hope it helps. She’s been having a hard time focusing since our mother passed.”
“How are you doing?” Courtney’s eyes radiated sympathy.
“I’m okay. I have my moments still when the sadness takes me by surprise. The holidays are the hardest.”
“They say the first year is especially hard. It supposedly gets a little easier after that.” Courtney shared the wisdom that Sara had heard many times, but it was true.
“I think it’s the first time that she’s not with us for each milestone—birthdays, holidays—that we feel it the most. I’m hoping it will get easier.”
Sara took a sip of her chardonnay and felt the familiar wave of sadness at the mention of her mother. She’d loved the Chatham Squire, too. On the rare occasions that Sara had been able to sneak out for lunch or dinner with her mother, it was usually where they went and her mother almost always got the lobster roll.
“Any possibilities job-wise?” Courtney asked a bit later.
Sara sighed. “Not yet. I keep looking but there’s not much out there. I was about to send a résumé in to the Chatham magazine just to keep me in mind for anything that might open up, but then I heard they just had another round of layoffs and are mostly working with freelancers now.”
“Oh, I hadn’t heard that. Could you freelance maybe?”
Sara had wondered about that, too. “I’m not sure. I think they usually hire people with recent experience for those kinds of things.”
“Something will turn up.” Courtney sounded so certain of it that it made Sara smile.
“I’m sure it will.”
Hannah flew on JetBlue to Hyannis the following week. Flying was the easiest and quickest way for her to get to Cape Cod. The flight was just over an hour to the Hyannis airport. Aunt Maddie met her there and they drove to Chatham in her white Volvo SUV.
It was just after five on a Friday and they hit a little rush hour traffic, but the forty-minute drive to Chatham went by quickly as her aunt chatted with Hannah the whole way.
“You’ll meet my neighbors tomorrow. Joy and Ben have become good friends over the past few years. They’re coming by midmorning for coffee. I’ll be gone the following week. I have a bunch of meetings with publishers. I know you’ll be fine by yourself, but I wanted you to meet them. It’s quiet this time of year, as you know, and I’ll feel better knowing you can go to Joy and Ben if you need anything.”
Hannah smiled. Sometimes she thought her aunt still thought of her as a child. “I’m sure I won’t need anything.”
“Well, you never know. We’ve exchanged keys, so if you happen to lock yourself out, for instance, Joy can let you in.”
Hannah didn’t say anything and her aunt continued. “We’ve both done it more than once! So it’s worked out well having each other’s keys.”
“That is a good idea, actually. I’ve locked myself out before,” Hannah admitted. And no one else had a key, so she’d had to track down the building manager, who hadn’t been pleased to have her day interrupted.
“We’ll have the house to ourselves. Your uncle is in Manhattan.” Her aunt’s tone was bright but Hannah noticed something seemed off.
“When is Uncle Richie coming home?”
Her aunt sighed. “I’m not sure. I didn’t say anything earlier because you have enough going on, but we’ve actually separated. Not officially, just temporarily. I’m not sure for how long.”
“Oh! I didn’t know.”
“No one does. Neither one of us wanted to make a fuss about it. We’ve just had some issues recently and I thought some time apart might be good for us both.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you work things out.” Hannah was stunned. Her aunt and uncle always seemed to have such a solid relationship. She didn’t want to pry by asking too many questions, but there was one she couldn’t help but ask.
“Is Uncle Richie at the Manhattan apartment? Will you stay somewhere else next week then?”
Her aunt shook her head. “No, I’ll stay there, too. The apartment has three bedrooms and an office. There’s plenty of room for us to avoid each other. Your uncle has been going to the office, so he won’t be around during the day.” Uncle Richie did something in finance. Hannah had never understood exactly what, but knew it involved lots of number crunching and huge sums of money.
Hannah couldn’t quite wrap her head around this news and decided to change the subject.
“Have you been to the Impudent Oyster lately?” It was one of their favorite year-round restaurants in Chatham.
Aunt Maddie replied, “I was just there last week with some friends. Delicious as usual. We’ll have to go soon. Maybe tomorrow night if you don’t have plans?”
Hannah laughed at the thought. “I have no plans.”
“Well, I didn’t know if you might be seeing Sara. She’s welcome to join us, too. It would be fun to all go out.”
“I’ll give her a call and see if she can get away.” Hannah doubted it. Sara had mentioned how difficult it was to find babysitters and how rarely she and Tom went out because of it.
Her aunt turned the car onto Shore Road and they drove past the gorgeous Chatham Bars Inn. It was a beautiful resort right on the ocean in Chatham with sprawling lawns and a feeling of understated elegance. They came around a corner and Hannah saw her aunt’s house straight ahead. It was a large, all-white home with its own beach. Her aunt pulled onto the long, winding driveway and into the garage.
Hannah got her suitcase out of the back seat and followed her aunt into the house. She stopped short when she stepped into the kitchen to admire the view. It always took her breath away. There were floor-to-ceiling glass windows that ran the whole length of the house and looked out over the beach and ocean.
“You know where your bedroom is, honey. Drop your luggage there and let’s have a glass of wine in the sunroom. We can watch the sun set. You still prefer chardonnay?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, but I like all wine.”
“I picked up a good one for us, La Crema. I had it at a friend’s house and loved it.”
Hanna wheeled her suitcase into the guest room and set it by the bed. It was a pretty room, spacious, with windows on all sides, one with a gorgeous ocean view. There was an attached bathroom and a big closet. The bed was a sleigh bed, made of polished dark pine, and the bedding was all snowy white with a puffy comforter and a bunch of pillows, all in different shades of blue for a nautical effect.
There was also a watercolor painting of the harbor on the wall, and Hannah remembered her aunt telling her it was done by a local artist and she’d bought it at a shop downtown. Hannah looked forward to poking around downtown, and walking along Main Street, which reminded her a bit of a Hallmark movie as there were so many cute shops. She remembered her aunt had mentioned the bookshop had changed hands and she was curious to pop in there, too, and see if they had any copies of her book. She headed back to the kitchen.
“Here you go.” Her aunt handed her a glass of wine and they settled in the sunroom, which looked over the ocean. It was her aunt’s favorite room. She ate most of her meals there and relaxed in the evening watching TV or reading a book. When the weather was warmer, she cracked a window to let in the fresh air and the soothing sound of the waves crashing on the beach.
Hannah took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the smooth, creamy taste.
“It’s very good. Kind of oaky and buttery,” she said.
“I thought so, too,” her aunt agreed.
They chatted for a while about nothing in particular and then her aunt asked how she was feeling. “Have you had any more panic attacks?”
“No. I think I’m feeling a little better about it all. It’s just sometimes it catches me by surprise, when I just don’t expect it. That’s when it’s really hard.”
Her aunt nodded. “I’m still struggling with it, too. She was my only sister and we were so close. We talked almost every day, even if it was only for a few minutes. I miss that the most.”
Hannah realized it was likely just as hard for her aunt as it was for Hannah and Sara. Different, but similar. Hannah and Sara were close, but they didn’t talk every day or even every week. Lately it seemed like they spoke once a month, if that, and it was always a rushed few minutes as one of them was always busy and couldn’t talk long. Hannah was looking forward to spending more time with her sister over the summer. They were only five years apart but their lives were so different. Hannah couldn’t imagine having four children at her age—like her sister had done. And four boys—it just seemed so exhausting.
“Feel free to use my office when I’m not here. There’s also a small den, or you could even just sit here in the sunroom and write. Whatever works for you,” her aunt said.
“Thanks. I’ll probably roam around and see what feels good. I thought I might head downtown, too, and see if there’s a coffee shop to hang out in and write for a bit. I did that a lot in Brooklyn.”
“You can use Richie’s car. He left it here. And there’s a cute new coffee shop next to the bookstore.” Her aunt looked at her curiously. “Can you really get writing done in a place like that? It’s not too distracting?”
“You’d think it would be, but there’s something about the hustle and bustle of people coming and going and the sounds of the cappuccino machines. It’s like white noise that my brain recognizes and knows that it’s time to get to work. Or at least it used to be…” Lately, no matter where she went, the words refused to come. She hoped it would be different in Chatham.
“Well, don’t be alarmed if it doesn’t happen for you right away. It may take a while for you to settle in and for your brain to be ready. I’ve been reading up a lot about this lately. How grief affects the brain. The bottom line is that it just takes time. Getting out and walking might help, too.”
Hannah smiled. “I was thinking that as well. It’s a great area to walk—along Shore Road and back. Do you want to go with me?” She knew her aunt liked to walk and at fifty-eight, she was slim and fit and looked five years younger.
“If I’m up, I’ll go before Joy and Ben come for coffee. It’s a great way to start the day. If I’m not up, go on without me and we’ll go another day.”
Hannah went to bed early and slept deeply. The fresh Cape air and the day of traveling caught up with her and she drifted off as soon as her head hit the pillow. Which meant she woke earlier than usual, too. It was not quite six when she eased out of bed and padded softly to the kitchen. Her aunt was still sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake her.
She found the coffee in a cupboard and made herself a cup, then brought it to the sunroom with her laptop. Usually her best writing time was first thing in the morning. When she was still half-asleep it was easier to tap into her creative zone. Usually. She’d hoped that the combination of being out of the city and her aunt’s spectacular ocean view would inspire her. But when she opened her laptop and pulled up her manuscript, the empty page seemed to taunt her.
She tried her usual trick of reading through the last few scenes she’d written, but that didn’t work because a little voice in her head whispered that it was unusable. Hannah tried to remind herself that it was just the normal writer insecurity and if she kept going, it would be fine at the end. That’s what her writer friends said anyway. She hoped they were right, but she worried that it really was rubbish and that she wouldn’t be able to fix it or keep going.
Hannah sighed and sipped her coffee. She stared at the empty page and then out the window, then back at the empty page. Sometimes after doing this for a few times, an idea would come to her and she’d type one sentence and then another and it wouldn’t be long before she’d lose herself in the story.
But by the time she finished her coffee, she realized that it just wasn’t going to happen this morning. She closed her laptop and decided to go for a walk. Her aunt was still sleeping. She grabbed a house key, put on her sneakers, sweatshirt, and jeans, and headed off for a walk. Sometimes when she walked, the ideas would come. But it was never something she could count on.
Walking was always a good stress reliever. Hannah did a lot of walking in Brooklyn. She used to walk to her office and once she started working from home, she made a point to get out of the house and walk at least once a day. Maybe if she headed to the coffee shop later in the afternoon, the writing might come more easily.
She was halfway down Shore Road, heading toward the Chatham Bars Inn, when her phone rang. It was her sister. Sara was also an early bird and often called once she’d gotten the kids off to school.
“Are you all settled in?” Sara asked.
“Pretty much. I’m out walking now. Aunt Maddie is still sleeping. Did you know she and Uncle Richie are separated? He’s been living in the Manhattan apartment.”
“What?” Sara sounded as shocked as Hannah had felt. “No, I didn’t know that. Did she say why? I’ve been so busy, I haven’t actually talked to her in almost a month. I feel bad now that I didn’t call.”
“She just said they have some issues to work out. I wouldn’t feel bad. The kids keep you busy. We’re going to dinner at the Impudent Oyster. She said to invite you out tonight with us, if you can make it.”
“Oh, I would love that.” Sara hesitated a moment before adding, “Maybe Tom will watch the kids. Though he just did that last weekend.”
Hannah stopped walking for a minute. “Let me guess. He watched them because you invited him out, but he needed to work?”
Sara sighed. “He had a big client project. It was disappointing though. It would have been fun if he’d come out, too. Courtney and Kevin are our best friends, and we never get out to see them anymore.”
“Is there a chance you could get a sitter?” Hannah asked.
“Impossible on this short notice.”
“Well, it would be nice if you could come.”
“I’ll ask him. It’s a Saturday, after all, so I’m sure he won’t mind. I haven’t seen Aunt Maddie in ages.” Sara sounded like she wanted to join them.
“It will be fun. We’ll swing by and pick you up.”
“How are you doing? Did you get some writing done this morning?” Sara knew Hannah was a morning writer and her normal routine was to go for a walk after she got her daily words done.
“It feels good to be here. I slept like a baby last night. But the words wouldn’t come this morning. I’m going to go downtown this afternoon and bring my laptop. Maybe I’ll be able to get something done at the coffee shop.”
“Did Aunt Maddie tell you there’s one right next to the bookshop? New owners took it over last year and are running the coffee shop, too. It’s always busy.”
“She did. I’m looking forward to checking it out. And the bookstore, too.”
“You should introduce yourself. Maybe you can do a signing there?” Sara suggested.
“That’s a great idea. I was just planning to browse and maybe buy a book or two, but it could be fun to do a signing at some point.”
“I’ve got to run, the school is calling on the other line. I’ll call you later about tonight.”
Hannah continued walking for another forty-five minutes and made it back to the house a little after nine. Aunt Maddie was up by then and in the sunroom, drinking coffee and reading the morning paper. Hannah said a quick hello, then showered, changed, and dried her long hair. She’d just walked into the sunroom with a second cup of coffee when there was a knock at the front door.
Her aunt jumped up. “That must be Joy and Ben.”
It was. Her aunt held the door open and welcomed her next-door neighbors. They were both in their mid-seventies. Joy had short straight gray hair and round wire-framed glasses and big blue-gray eyes. She was petite, about five-three, and slim. Her husband was almost a foot taller and had white-gray hair and a matching beard. He had rosy cheeks and warm brown eyes. Both of them exuded warmth and Joy seemed to be aptly named. Her eyes lit up when Hannah’s aunt introduced them.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your aunt talks about you and your sister all the time.”
Aunt Maddie poured coffee for Joy and made a cup of English breakfast tea for Ben, who was British and preferred tea. They all went in the sunroom and Hannah’s aunt also brought a coffee cake and plates and they all helped themselves.
“This is delicious, did you make it?” Joy asked.
Aunt Maddie laughed. “No. I’m not much of a baker, or a cook, for that matter. I got that at the market, they have a great bakery.” It was a cinnamon-walnut coffee cake and Hannah inhaled her piece. She hadn’t eaten anything yet and had worked up an appetite from the walk.
As they chatted, Hannah learned that Joy was a semiretired minister who also taught creative writing. She was also a published poet and mystery author for a small press. Ben was retired and enjoyed woodworking.
“He has a full shop of machines in the basement. Ben makes the most beautiful bowls. He sells them at local craft fairs,” Joy said proudly.
They chatted for a half hour or so before Hannah’s writing came up.
“I’m hoping the change of scenery might help Hannah find her story,” her aunt said.
Joy looked sympathetic. “It’s hard when the words don’t cooperate. You know, sometimes it’s helpful to be around other writers. I lead a small group of local writers every Monday. Why don’t you join us? We all read a few pages of whatever we are working on and it’s a friendly group. They’d be tickled to have you there.”
The idea appealed to Hannah. Her writing friends were all online and she missed the real-life company of other writers. “I’d love that.”
“Good. Pop by around three. We’re usually done by five.”
The visit flew by. Hannah enjoyed listening to Joy and Ben talk about their recent adventure. They’d just visited Venice.
“It’s a beautiful city and the food everywhere in Italy is so good. Venice is unique. Imagine, every day, the water rises and floods just a little. And no one is bothered about it. They just go about their day.”
“That sounds wonderful. Italy is high on my list of places I’d like to see,” Hannah said.
“You should go. Go everywhere. It’s a big, beautiful world,” Joy said. She and Ben stood and said their goodbyes.
“I’ll see you on Monday then. Oh, if you see a young man about your age on our property, that’s our grandson, Spencer. He insists on cutting our lawn and doing odd jobs when we need them. Actually, maybe you know him? I think he’s about your age. He’s a lawyer now, works right on Main Street. We’re very proud of him.”
“I do remember him. I’m not surprised he’s a lawyer. I think he was valedictorian of our class.”
“He was! Well, we’ll see you both soon.”
Hannah and her aunt walked them to the door and Hannah tried to picture Spencer. It had been years since he’d seen him or even thought of him. When she was in high school she’d had such a crush on him and he’d never looked at her twice. He’d always had a bit of an attitude, like he was too important to bother with someone like Hannah. Spencer had been a serious student, on the debate team, and one of the years he was class president. Other than English and art, Hannah’s grades had been somewhat mediocre.
Hannah had enjoyed high school and had loved being a cheerleader and a member of the creative writing club. That club had started her dreaming about being a writer someday and her teachers had been encouraging. But she’d known that most of the students didn’t take romance writing seriously. Hannah was used to that by now. For some reason, even though it was the top-selling genre, romance was also the one genre that people, including other writers, often looked down on.
Spencer had been one of those people. Her crush on him had been short-lived once she actually got to know him a little and realized they were much too different to ever be compatible. She hadn’t thought about him since high school and had to admit, now that Joy had mentioned him, she was curious to see if he’d changed at all since then.