“You okay?” he asked, tossing her a quizzical look as he bent down to brush away some of the debris at the base of the plants.
“I was just thinking about this house,” she said, a little wistfully. “It’s been in my family for a long time, and we had a lot of happy memories here.”
“You don’t get back very often?” He continued to work while he talked, the muscles in his arms taut as his hands moved expertly over the plants.
“No,” she said, distractedly. “It’s not easy to get to. I wish I had come back more. But…well, life.”
“Has a weird way of doing that, doesn’t it?” He grinned up at her and she felt something in her gut twist.
She cleared her throat, eager to break the moment, and focused on the vegetable plants, which were already looking better now that Leo had cleared out the brush.
“Where’d you learn to do all this?” she asked. She raked her gaze over him. His skin was tawny, his brown hair tipped with gold, but there was something about him, maybe it was the smoothness of his hands, or something about the way he spoke and carried himself, that told her there was more to him than what he revealed. He may be handy, but he hadn’t always been a handyman, that much was clear.
“My mother was into gardening. I used to follow her around, see what she was doing. She taught me everything she knew. I liked it. It was…peaceful.”
She narrowed her eyes. Peaceful. People came to Evening Island seeking peace, that much was for sure. But from her personal experience, they also came to Evening Island for another reason.
To escape.
***
Gemma couldn’t help but notice that for the fifth night in a row, Hope fed the girls separately and then tucked them into bed before the rest of them ate their dinner. She checked her watch, it was seven, later than she usually ate at home, not that she watched the clock. Her life, after all, no longer had any structure.
Ellie had not yet returned, but she wasn’t surprised by that, and she imagined that Hope wasn’t either. Besides, the island was Ellie’s home. She had an entire life here that they weren’t part of, and for all Gemma knew, on Friday nights, she had somewhere to be.
Still, she felt sad at the thought that Ellie might be avoiding her.
“I feel bad about last night,” she admitted to Hope. “I think Ellie’s avoiding me.”
“Ellie teaches a painting class on Friday evenings,” Hope reminded her. “But I feel bad too. And the thought of selling Sunset…”
Gemma grew quiet. She knew. She felt it too. But she had been relying on Hope’s practical side to keep her strong.
“I can always eat earlier,” she suggested, hoping to make amends for their earlier conversation that day. “Before the girls go down.”
Hope piled pasta into two bowls and handed one to Gemma. “I can’t eat earlier,” Hope said, pulling two forks from the drawer.
“If I’m going to spend an hour, or sometimes more, preparing a delicious meal that I’ve shopped for and prepped and then have to clean up afterwards, then I deserve to enjoy it!” Tears seemed to fill Hope’s eyes but she blinked them away rapidly.
Gemma waited until they were seated on the porch to press. She’d never seen her sister like this, and she was still thinking about her comment yesterday. Could there be trouble in the marriage? Is that what had prompted Hope to come to the island?
She’d always considered herself close to Hope, in the sense that they were easy company, could laugh and talk and stayed up to date on each other’s news. But Hope rarely revealed her deepest feelings. Gemma realized with shame that she’d always assumed that Hope didn’t have any troubles.
“Is everything okay, Hope? I’m sorry that I couldn’t help with the girls today. I’m just in such a bad position with this book and my deadlines.” She thought of that email from her editor still sitting in her inbox, unopened. She shoved some pasta into her mouth and chewed in an effort to push away the knot in the pit of her stomach.
“I know.” Hope shook her head. “Of course. I shouldn’t have asked. I just…” She stared out onto the water, where the sun was dipping into the horizon.
It was a beautiful sunset, and even though they were almost always blessed with beautiful sunsets at this cottage, it never lost its magic. They stopped, sitting in silence, and Gemma soaked in the colors of the sky. Like cotton candy, she used to say as a girl, and this would make Ellie giggle, say that she was suddenly hungry, that she wished she could eat the sky.
Gemma smiled sadly now, wishing that Ellie was sitting here beside them. That just for one evening, they could go back to feeling the way they used to when they came to this cottage.
“Maybe I was out of line last night,” she said, when the last sliver of the glowing sun faded into the distance. “But this house is a lot of upkeep, and I’m not sure that Ellie is up to the challenge. It’s a lot of space for one person. And a lot of work.” She glanced at Hope, not wanting what she said next to come out the wrong way. “A lot of money, too.”
They could ask their parents to help them get it in order, she knew, especially if a sale was involved. After all, this was their father’s house just as much as it was theirs, though not in any legal sense. Still, somewhere deep inside of him, he must care, must have some memories of this place that made him smile?
This house, with the weather-worn paint and windows that swelled shut on the hottest days of summer, and the ancient fridge and oven that took an hour to preheat, held no value to Bart Morgan.
Hope seemed to consider something for a moment. “Who mowed the lawn?”
“Leo,” Gemma said, causing Hope to raise her eyebrow. She quickly added, “He takes care of the Taylors’ house.”
“The shirtless guy?” When Gemma gave a tight nod, Hope slipped her a smile. “He’s cute.”
“Is he?” Wrong thing to say. She’d never been a good liar, even a casual one. And Leo being cute wasn’t a matter of opinion. It was a fact. “I thought that he could help us out while we’re here. Ellie doesn’t seem to have the ability, and I certainly don’t have the time, and you’re busy with the girls.”
Hope fell silent. She took a bite of her soup. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind doing something else once in a while.”
“Still, the yard is big, and it’s in bad shape.” And if they were going to sell… She’d compiled a mental list of all the other things they might ask Leo to help with, once she had her sisters on board to sell the property. It would take some money, but she considered it a worthwhile investment.
“I’ve been thinking of doing something else,” Hope said, and Gemma took a moment to realize that her sister wasn’t talking about the yard or even Sunset Cottage anymore. “I’ve been thinking of going back to work.”
“A few years from now? When the girls are in school?”
“They still have another year of preschool and kindergarten is only half day, so…sooner.” Hope’s voice had risen to a tinny pitch and Gemma stared at her, knowing that there was definitely something going on that she wasn’t fully aware of. She’d always assumed that Hope loved being a stay-at-home mother. She was so devoted to it.