Just like Mom, Gemma thought sadly. But the trait had carried down, to all of them in their own ways. They all hid their true fears, from the world, from each other, even maybe from themselves.
Hope was quiet for a long moment. “Yes. I suppose I did adore him.”
She patted her thighs and stood up, as if that was that, the conversation was over. And just as quickly as she’d broken down, she had pulled herself together. She was Hope again, with her honey-blond hair smoothed away from her face, standing tall and thin, looking elegant as always, even when she should have been a gawky and gangly teenager.
“I had a reason for coming up here, actually, and it wasn’t just to bring you food. I’m having a little dinner party. Sunday at seven.”
“A dinner party?” Gemma wasn’t so sure what her sister expected from this. Usually her parties took weeks, if not months to plan. They were catered events with long invite lists.
“Something small and casual. I’ll cook. But…I thought it might be a good way for all of us to spend time together. You, me, and Ellie.”
Hope gave her a pointed look and Gemma knew better than to argue. It might be a good way to smooth things over with Ellie. A party, with other guests. A celebration of sorts. And now that she was further along in her book, she could almost look forward to a night off.
“Who would we invite?” Simon was the first name that popped to mind. Ellie would be happy about this.
Hope shrugged. “Invite the caretaker from next door if you want.”
Gemma was flustered that her sister had even noticed her talking to Leo, but the idea was appealing. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “He might not be into that type of thing.”
Hope gave her a sly smile as she set a hand on the doorknob. “I have a feeling it’s exactly his type of thing.”
Gemma didn’t feed into that comment, even if she knew she’d still be thinking about it long after Hope had gone back downstairs. She felt a connection with Leo, and Hope had picked up on it too.
“Who are you inviting?” she asked. After all, it wouldn’t be a party without guests.
Hope hesitated, then, in a carefully poised tone, said, “A friend.”
“The lady from the shop?” Gemma asked. She took a big bite of her sandwich. God, it tasted good.
“No.” Hope hesitated. “Someone I met on the ferry.”
Gemma stopped chewing. “A man? Oh, Hope!”
“He’s just a friend,” Hope said, giving her a stern look.
Gemma felt uneasy about this, but she knew she was in no position to argue. She didn’t know what went on in Hope’s household anymore than Hope knew about what went on in the parts of her life she kept hidden from the world. It had all been as big of an illusion as her relationship with Sean.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Gemma pleaded, and Hope let out a bemused snort.
“When have I ever been anything but careful? That’s just the problem,” Hope said. “I never took risks. I was never free to. Or, at least, I didn’t think I was.”
Gemma sensed that there was more to that last insinuation than Hope was saying directly. “I toed the line, too.”
“Yes, but they didn’t have the same expectations for you. Face it, Gemma. All the pressure was on me. And Ellie…”
They both knew that their father had expectations of Ellie, but that he’d given up.
“Dad always knew that you and Ellie were creative. But you were willing to make a plan for yourself. You stayed within the lines. Ellie did not.” Hope raised an eyebrow, and Gemma knew it was true. She’d taken her creative energy and applied it to a corporate job, and then she’d stayed at that job, however miserable she was, until she had established herself. Proven herself. She could have taken something less conventional. Freelanced, or working for a small paper. But every step she’d taken had been deliberate, and designed to look…successful.
And recently, she understood firsthand how it felt to be anything but successful. It was uncertain. And scary.
And lonely.
“Maybe I’ll go into town and try Ellie’s art class tonight,” Gemma said.
They exchanged a small smile, one that almost reassured Gemma that everything would be all right even though nothing felt right anymore.
“Let me know about the dinner and who you end up inviting,” Hope said as she opened the door.
Gemma’s heart sped up at the thought. She would ask Leo.
That’s what friends did, after all…
***
Ellie was setting up for the class when Gemma arrived, carrying a box of cookies from the bakery, hoping that it was a worthy peace offering.
While she’d had every intention of visiting the studio sooner, she hadn’t felt welcome to before now, and from the flash of Ellie’s eyes when she entered, she wondered if she still wasn’t.
“I come in peace,” she said, handing over the bakery box. “And an invitation. To a party at the cottage. Sunday night. Seven o’clock. Hope’s idea,” she added, lest there be any confusion.
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about wanting to sell the house?” Ellie’s eyes lit up with hope that Gemma struggled to look at.
She sighed. “Can we not talk about the house for right now? I’d like to enjoy each other’s company a bit. I’ve missed you, Ellie. I want to have a nice time together here, the way we used to.”
Ellie’s smile was hesitant. “I’d like that too.”
Relieved, Gemma looked around the studio. She’d always admired her sister’s work, but the paintings she had hanging at the cottage were just a glimpse of what she had on display here.
“Oh, Ellie! This is amazing! I’m so impressed!”
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “You know my work.”
“Yes, but this is all so…” She pulled in a breath, realizing now just why Ellie didn’t want to sell the cottage. It wasn’t about the house. It was about the life she had here. The one she’d created for herself.
“I wish Dad would see this,” she said, giving her sister a long look.
Ellie’s jaw firmed, and she began to unfold the stack of chairs she had leaning against the wall. “He wouldn’t care. He’s already made up his mind about me.”
Maybe so, but Ellie should still be proud of herself. And their father should be proud of her too.
“So this party…” Ellie was clearly eager to change the subject, and Gemma didn’t fight her. She took a chair from the stack and added it to the circle that Ellie was forming.
“It’s small, but knowing Hope, she’ll go overboard. She apparently needed at least forty-eight hours to prepare, hence the reason for Sunday instead of tomorrow.” The sisters locked eyes and smiled. “She’s inviting someone…a friend…that she met on the ferry.”
Ellie looked curious, but didn’t elaborate, and Gemma was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to explain what Hope was up to when she didn’t even understand it herself. A divorce from Evan? Impossible. Knowing Hope, she would wake up tomorrow embarrassed at the omission, smooth it over with a laugh, and never speak of it again.
Like they’d been trained to do, she thought sadly.