Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“Kit. It’s Hal Anderson. Are you all right? You sound groggy.”
“No, no. I’m fine.” She struggled to sit upright and looked for a clock in the room she was no longer familiar with. “What’s going on?”
“Beth’s DNA results are back, and I wanted to come out and talk to you about them.”
“I’m not home. I mean, I am home, but home in Pennsylvania.”
“Oh. I hadn’t realized you were leaving so soon.”
“You said the investigation was completed, and the trip here was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Oh, I should have let you know I was leaving. I’m sorry.”
“No, no. You were free to go. Did Beth and Abby leave as well?”
“Yes. We flew home this morning.”
“Will you be coming back?”
“I will. We all will.” She was tempted to tell him Beth and Abby were coming back to stay—her own permanent status still uncertain—to spruce up the camp and that, for better or for worse, the Camp in the Meadows would be back in business.
But she bit her tongue. There was much to do before that happened.
She knew Abby and Beth thought they’d be up and ready for the summer, but she had serious doubts that could happen.
“I hope this means you’re thinking about the possibility of keeping the camp. I know Abby’s quite taken with the cabins.”
Kit laughed. “She is looking at them through very rose-colored glasses. She thinks a little bit of cleanser and a damp mop will clean those places right up, and boom! They’ll be habitable. I don’t think she realizes how much work she’s setting herself up to do.”
“She’s young and she’s strong and she has a vision, which I have to say, sounded quite reasonable when she explained to me what she had in mind.
” Hal went on: “I told her I’d done some construction back in my younger days.
My friend’s dad owned a building company, and he hired me every summer right through law school.
I learned a lot from him. She asked me what I thought of the cabin’s conditions after we gave them a quick going-over.
They looked fine to me.” He paused. “Was that something you wish I hadn’t done? ”
“No, of course not. Always best to know what you’re dealing with right up front.”
“Any idea when you’ll be back?”
“Not sure. I have some things to take care of here, but I don’t expect it to take too long.
” She tried to make a mental list of what she had to deal with that couldn’t be done via phone or email.
“I need to check with Beth and Abby and see what their schedules are. I’d like us to drive up together. ”
“You could fly, you know. There’s an airport right down there in Augusta.”
“I flew into Augusta a few weeks ago. I want to drive because I’ll have a lot of stuff to bring with me. Including my dog.” There was scratching at the door, and she rose to open it. “Speak of the devil.”
“What kind of dog?”
“Basset hound. Long and lean. Well, he’s not quite as lean as he used to be.” She sat on the floor and rubbed Wally behind the ears.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him. Maybe he and my dog can have a playdate.”
“What kind do you have?”
“English mastiff. Name’s Butler.”
“As in, the butler did it?”
“Yeah. Because if the garbage can is knocked over, a shoe has been chewed beyond recognition, a hole the size of a crater has opened up in the yard, yeah, Butler’s done it.”
“Still a pup?”
“Only in his heart. He’s big and he looks formidable, but he’s a sweet guy.”
“I bet he’s five times Wally’s size.”
“Yeah, probably, but he’s gentle. A little clumsy and he’s not very fast, but he’s gentle.”
“Not that I don’t enjoy talking with you, but you must have called about something other than my travel schedule.”
“Oh, it can wait until you get back.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Listen, let me know when you’re in Tolerance. We’ll talk then.”
“Will do.”
Kit held the phone long after the call disconnected, then pushed it into her pocket and decided not to read too much into the call. She had enough to deal with in her immediate future. Whatever Beth’s DNA testing had revealed could wait until she got back to Tolerance.
Kit slept surprisingly well, given she was in the guest room bed in her own house and had fallen asleep with her stomach grumbling about being empty.
When she awoke the next morning, it was with coffee and food in mind.
She dressed quickly in the event she’d have to go for takeout.
Who knew if Russ had kept anything edible in the house?
He was already in the kitchen when she arrived downstairs. They looked at each other warily. Finally Russ said, “There’s coffee.”
“Thank goodness.” She looked for her favorite mug in the cabinet and frowned when she couldn’t find it.
“The one with Benny’s picture on it is in the dishwasher,” he told her somewhat sheepishly.
“You drank out of my Benny mug?” she said accusingly.
“God forbid. It’s still in there from the last time you used it. I ran the dishwasher but forgot to empty it.”
“Thanks.” Kit opened the dishwasher and picked up her mug and inspected it.
He got the half-and-half from the refrigerator and set it on the island, and she smiled a thanks as she filled the mug.
She fixed her coffee the way she always did and took a sip, then another.
Why did no coffee ever taste as good as this?
It must’ve been the freshly ground beans and the coffee maker.
She closed her eyes and just enjoyed for a moment.
“There’s cereal,” Russ offered awkwardly. “And, ah—not sure what else.”
“Have you been doing a lot of takeout?”
“Takeout, dine-in, anything but cook here for my lonesome self.”
“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you, Russ. I don’t.”
“I wasn’t. It was an admission of my ineptitude in the kitchen. I’ve never liked to cook.”
“True.”
“How ’bout you guys in Maine? Cooking or dining out?”
“Both. There’s a wonderful little restaurant in Tolerance. Ruthie’s. Everything is made on-site. It’s the place in town. Everyone eats there at least once a week. I’ve met so many people there. They all knew Maxine and they all had wonderful memories of her to share with me.”
“That’s the kind of legacy everyone wants.”
“She must have been quite something. I’ve seen her photos. She was gorgeous. Truly drop-dead gorgeous.” She took her phone from her pocket. “Here. Look at this photo of her. I’m guessing she was in her mid-twenties when this was taken.”
Kit showed him the picture of Maxine’s photo she’d sent to Beth.
“Wow. You didn’t exaggerate. She really was gorgeous.” He stared at the phone. “Does she look a little like Abby?”
“A few people who knew her have commented on that.”
“Your mom was pretty, too, but your aunt could have been a movie star.” He handed the phone back to Kit.
“Which is most likely how she attracted the likes of Miles David Easton. They were engaged, did I tell you that?” she said casually, knowing she had not.
Russ gasped. “The writer? The one who’s been in the news lately?”
Another nod, this one more nonchalant, as if it were no big thing, even though it was. “Yes. He wrote some of his best work right there in one of the cabins.”
“His books are having a real heyday. That movie’s coming out, and I read that his old publisher is reissuing all his books.” Judging from his expression, Russ was duly impressed.
Kit smiled. Good.
“I read he died in some accident.”
“He died in a plane crash on his way to Maine to marry Maxine.”
“Seriously? Wow. And the legend of Maxine grows.”
“At the time, his agent said that the book he’d just finished was with him on the plane and was lost when the plane went down. Imagine if he’d sent it to his agent before he left for Maine.”
“I have to say, I’m impressed. But wait, who’s going to be paid the royalties? Did he have relatives?”
Kit hadn’t thought about that before. “I honestly don’t know.”
“You can bet whoever is his heir is standing knee-deep in cash. Too bad he and your aunt didn’t have a chance to marry. Think of all the royalties you’d be inheriting.” Russ whistled. “Who knew that you were almost related to someone famous?”
“More famous now than he was when he was alive, that’s for sure, but it’s more sad than anything. After he died, Maxine stayed on to run the camp and she never even dated anyone else. That was true, everlasting love.”
After a silence, Russ said, “The kind I used to think we had. At least, I hoped we had.”
The silence grew until Kit knew it was the opening she needed. “Can we talk about this like adults, Russ?”
“I think so.” He sat at the table and pointed to the bench across from him.
Kit slid onto the banquette and took a few sips of coffee while she gathered her thoughts. “I used to think that, too. That we’d make it through anything.”
“What do you think changed that?” he asked softly.
“I think recently we’ve both realized that we want different things. You want the freedom to take off for as long as you want—”
Russ groaned and rolled his eyes as if expecting her to blame their situation solely on him.
She held up a hand. “Let me finish. I’m not criticizing you.
If that’s what you feel you need to do, then you should do it for as long as you can afford it or are enjoying it.
But you have to give me the same grace. I went to Maine to answer some questions that needed to be answered.
Who was Maxine? Why the falling-out with my mother? ”
“Have you found the answers?”
She shook her head. “No. If anything, I’ve found more questions, some of which are at the very core of who I am. I know you think I was being overly dramatic, but if you could have seen that quilt with the remains of that child . . .”
“I apologize for being so rude and so callous about that. I’m embarrassed by what I said. I’m sorry.”
Kit nodded her acknowledgment. “It was the saddest thing I have ever seen. And then to find out that baby was my brother? I can’t even tell you what sort of anguish that’s brought about.
It raises all the questions—who was he, how could he be my brother, and the big one, who was his mother, and therefore, mine. ”
“Kit, Barbie was your mother. We know that.”
“Then why would she have left the remains of her son in Maine with my aunt?”
“She must have had a good reason. Barbie was always a very rational, logical person. She must have—” He thought for a few moments, then finally exhaled loudly and said, “I have no idea.”
“Do you understand why this is so important to me? Why that camp in Maine is so important to me? Why every question about my life begins and ends there?”
“I do. Now I do. I wish I’d been more open when you tried to tell me. I’m really sorry for having failed you, Kit.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said sadly.
“It’s too late to go back, isn’t it.” It was more a statement than a question because he knew the answer.
“I think so. I think you need to live your life the way you want and to let me live mine.” Kit took a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for more than thirty years, Russ. I will never not love who you were for most of those years. But I think it’s time.”
Tears ran down Russ’s face as he nodded. “There will never be a time when I will not love who you were, and who you are. I will always be grateful for our two amazing kids. But you’re right. It’s time we both moved on. We’re not headed for the same place anymore.”
He stood and reached for her, and she got up and went into his arms, and they held each other for a long time, the only sound in the kitchen their sobs.
“Kit, if you ever need anything—anything at all—next week or next year or in ten or twenty years,” he said through his tears, “I will always be here for you.”
“Same,” she managed to say. “And if you ever want to come to Maine and camp—”
“I know who to call.”
“Abby wants to run the camp,” she told him. “She and Beth want to buy it from me and run it together.”
“I didn’t know you decided to sell it.”
“I haven’t.”
Wally barked at the back door. When it was not immediately opened for him, he began to scratch at it.
“I let him out earlier.” Russ disengaged himself from Kit and went to the door to let the dog in.
“Oh, that reminds me. I need to call the vet this morning.” She leaned over to say good morning to Wally.
“Why do you need to call the vet?”
“Because I’m going to need his records.” Kit looked up with her first smile of the morning. “Wally’s going to be a Maine camp dog.”
Before he could comment, she added, “Oh, and I’m taking the coffee maker, too.”