Farewell to Cedar Key (14 page)

25

S
unday flew by with the Christmas gathering at my parents' house. It was great to see Maggie again, and the entire day was filled with laughter. By the time Orli and I boarded our flight in Atlanta, I was feeling less concern about my mother.

She'd seemed her perky self the day before, and even seemed resigned and accepting of the fact that both Orli and I would be absent from her house on Christmas day.

I settled back in my seat as we got airborne and patted Orli's hand.

“A girl could get used to first class pretty fast, couldn't she?”

Orli giggled. “I know. So much more room, and that pre-flight drink was nice, wasn't it?”

I nodded. “Yes, having a glass of wine at the gate makes me feel special.”

“You
are,
” Orli assured me.

I let out a sigh and once again wondered how Grant and I had gotten so lucky to produce such an outstanding daughter.

I reached into my carry-on and removed the scarf that I was working on for Grant's mother. A few more rows and it would be finished. Not a knitter herself, Molly always showed great appreciation of the knitted items I'd made for her over the years.

I had liked Molly from the first time Grant had introduced me to her. His dad had passed away the year before we met, but I remembered thinking how self-assured and independent Molly was despite being a new widow. And how vastly different she was from my own mother. I'm not sure she ever agreed with my decision not to marry her son, but she never voiced her thoughts and had always assured me that whatever Grant and I chose to do was up to us.

I nodded off following lunch and woke to see Orli dozing beside me with her iPod earbuds in place. Glancing out the window, I saw the Boston skyline in the distance and felt the air pressure inside the cabin begin to change.

Orli yawned and stretched. “Are we almost there?”

“Almost,” I said, pointing out the window.

She leaned across me and smiled. “I can't wait to see Dad.”

It had been nine months since I'd seen him, and I realized I was also looking forward to it.

 

As we descended on the escalator to baggage, I saw Grant immediately and my stomach gave a lurch. Leaning against a wall, hands in his jean pockets, he looked every bit as handsome as the day I met him. His cranberry turtleneck and black cashmere sport jacket boosted his good looks, and his dark hair streaked with gray added to his appeal.

As if feeling my stare, he glanced up, smiled, and waved.

“There he is,” Orli exclaimed, waving back before leaving the escalator to run into his open arms.

I laughed as I walked toward them. He kissed Orli on the cheek and released her to envelop me with his hug. I loved the ease and familiarity that Grant always managed to make me feel in his arms. He surprised me by brushing my lips with his rather than the usual peck on the cheek.

Swinging his arms around our shoulders, he said, “How great! I have both of my girls together again. Good flight?”

“Oh, it was,” Orli bubbled. “First class was great, Dad. Thanks.”

“Yes, thank you, Grant. We both enjoyed it.”

“Good. Ah, here we go,” he said. “Baggage is coming out.”

We walked closer to the carousel, his arms still around us.

Within a few minutes, we had our bags and headed to the parking lot.

The Boston sun was shining and the air was crisp, making it feel more like autumn than December.

“You really are having a mild winter,” I said as Grant placed our luggage in the trunk.

He nodded. “Yeah, there's a cold front coming in this evening though. We could end up having a white Christmas after all.”

“Oh, good,” Orli said as she got into the backseat, leaving me to sit up front next to Grant.

 

Grant drove along 1A, heading north. There were other routes he could have taken, and I wondered if he recalled my fondness for driving along Lynn Shore Drive with the mighty Atlantic to my right.

“I always forget how pretty it is up here,” I said, and all of a sudden had a flashback to that spring of sixteen years before when Grant and I had sat huddled on a blanket at this very beach, making out and declaring eternal love for each other. I smiled at the memory.

“It is,” was all he said, and I wondered if he was having the same recall.

Orli carried most of the conversation as we made our way to Danvers and Route 62.

“Oh, wow, there it is,” I heard her say, and glanced up from the road to see the familiar imposing structure. Although I could tell that it had received a facelift, the buildings still looked down on the town of Danvers from high atop the hill.

Grant turned onto the long, winding road that led up to Kirkbride Village and slowed down halfway at a guard hut, where he waved to the man inside, and the security gate lifted for us to enter. As we curved to the entrance I saw that four brick buildings stood in the late afternoon sun, which lent a softness and coziness to what many local residents remembered as a frightening and eerie place. The developer had preserved the outside shell of the original Kirkbride Building, where Grant now resided, once home to so many lost souls. Now gone were the confining black bars, replaced with white shutters on each side of the stylish, large windows, creating a sense of warmth. Large trees that still had not shed all of their autumn leaves gave an atmosphere of peace rather than horror to the place. I had to admit that the uncomfortable feeling I'd had years ago on seeing the former mental facility was gone.

“Oh, this really
is
pretty,” I said as Grant pulled into a spot in front of the first building.

“I told you,” he said, and I saw the smile on his face.

“Wow, it doesn't look anything like the scary place it used to be.” Orli jumped out of the car and looked around her.

I got out and followed Grant to the trunk. I had to agree. The malevolent aura the place had always exuded had disappeared and in its place was a very pretty condo complex.

“I hope you'll like it here,” he said as we followed him to a triple-size glass front door that allowed the beauty of the inside atrium to be seen from outside.

Grant swiped a card in the security pad, and I stepped inside to see five condo units in the shape of a U. The developer had strategically placed a huge crystal chandelier in the center of the glass-peaked roof, allowing the prisms to catch rays of sunlight, which distributed splashes of color throughout the atrium. Beneath the chandelier I saw an intricate freshwater fishpond. Varying tiers held aquatic plants and flowers, with ceramic statues of mermaids, fairies, and angels adding serenity. The waterfalls flowed into the pond from various directions, creating a soft, trickling sound while colorful fish swam among the lily pads. Throughout the atrium, metal benches added welcome and respite from the outside world.

“This is
so
upscale, Grant. Really gorgeous!” I looked around and saw there were two condos on either side of the entrance and a larger one at the rear, which completed the U shape.

“Oh, Dad, I just love it,” Orli said as she went to give her father a squeeze. “It's hard to believe this was a mental hospital years ago.”

He nodded, and the three of us looked over as the door on our right opened and an elderly woman emerged, holding a watering can.

“Hello, hello,” she said, walking toward us with her hand outstretched.

I saw a smile cover Grant's face. “This is Estelle Fletcher, my neighbor. And, Estelle, this is my daughter, Orli, and her mother, Josie.”

“Well, well,” she said, nodding. I wondered if the woman always spoke with double words.

Grant's description of her had been understated. I took in the white frizzy hair that was pulled tightly back from her forehead and had managed to escape the purple silk scarf at the nape of her neck. Dramatically arched dark brown eyebrows caused a questioning expression, and blood-red lipstick had been applied beyond the natural contours of her lips. She wore a bright orange and red caftan, which added to her unusual appearance.

“So nice to meet you,” I said while accepting her outstretched hand. I noticed she held on to it longer than necessary as she stared into my eyes.

“Yes, yes. Same here.” She gave my hand a squeeze before letting go, and said, “You have good energy.”

Orli chuckled and shook the old woman's hand. “Do I have it too?” she questioned.

“You? You, my dear, have a very special gift. The gift of love.”

Orli looked at me and shrugged.

“Okay,” Grant said, directing us to the unit straight ahead. “Let's get you settled in. Take care, Estelle.”

“Oh, I will, I will.”

Yup, she definitely spoke in double words.

“Oh, and Josie, do stop by my place while you're here. We'll have some tea and muffins.”

“Thanks.” I followed Grant and Orli. “Thanks. Maybe I will,” I told her, and wondered if speaking with double words was catching.

I stepped inside the condo and gasped. “Oh, Grant. This is positively stunning.”

My eyes took in the spacious and open great room with a large kitchen behind it and French doors leading outside to a brick patio and greenery. Jutting out above the great room with a staircase to the right was a loft with skylights, creating a warm glow from the sun streaming in.

“Oh, it is, Dad,” Orli gushed. “I just love it.”

I saw the look of pride that covered Grant's face. “Good. I'm glad you both like it. And over here,” he said, walking to the left, “is your room. I'm in the loft.”

We deposited our wheeled luggage as I took in the large rectangular room, complete with twin beds, a desk, and two bureaus. The plum and cream color scheme was very chic.

“Beautiful,” I said, walking to inspect the attached bathroom.

“It is,” Orli agreed. “But I bet Gram did the decorating.”

Grant laughed. “Yeah, she did, and she also came over this morning and brought a casserole for our dinner this evening. So after you both get unpacked, we can relax a little before we eat. A glass of wine, Josie? And I bet you'd like a hot chocolate, Orli?”

“Thanks, yes,” I said.

“That would be great.” Orli ran over to give Grant another hug, making me question if I'd been wrong not to allow our daughter to grow up in a household with both parents.

26

F
ollowing dinner, the three of us sat in the great room, laughing and talking. Orli was curled up on the sofa beside Grant, and I was stretched out in the armchair, my legs propped on the hassock. I let out a sigh of contentment. This was nice. Very nice. I was surprised to realize that this was the first time we'd been together as a family in Grant's home. When he visited Cedar Key, he came to dinner at our house, but this was different. Orli and I were both going to be living and sleeping under the same roof as Grant for an entire week.

“And so you think you might consider Boston?” I heard Grant say, and tuned back in to their conversation.

I saw Orli shoot a glance over to me. “I . . . don't know. Maybe.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. “What's this about? I'm afraid I zoned out.”

“Orli's been telling me that she might consider college in Boston.”

I recalled that she'd recently said the same thing to Simon's daughter.

“Yeah, I heard you say that the other evening,” I said. “So what's up with that?”

“Well . . . I've been giving it a lot of thought. And I did some research. I don't think I want to major in business after all.”

I leaned forward in my chair. “Oh?” I wasn't sure which surprised me most—the fact that she seemed serious about Boston and had discarded business as a major or the fact that she hadn't discussed any of it with me.

Grant patted her knee. “Ah, are you considering a nursing degree like your mom?”

Orli shook her head. “No. A degree in journalism, like Nana.”

This news was beyond surprising and the first that I was hearing about it.

“Really?” Where on earth had this come from? “I had no idea you were interested in writing.”

She nodded as she fingered the tassels on the afghan beside her. “I've always enjoyed writing, but I'm thinking more along the lines of journalism in relation to the media.”

Grant laughed. “Oh, like an anchor person on our nightly news?”

Orli gave him a playful jab. “Well, more like somebody who travels and does interviews with important people for the news.”

I blew out a breath. “Wow. I had no idea, Orli, but I think it's great if you think you'd enjoy that as a career. There's certainly lots of opportunity.” I tried to banish the images in my mind of my daughter in some war-torn country doing interviews.

“Really? Then you'd be okay with it?”

I laughed. “Orli, this is
your
choice and
your
life. Not mine. You know how I feel about a woman making her own choices.”

She nodded. “Well . . . that's why I'm considering Emerson College. Where you went.”

Emerson—what was to have been my alma mater; now my daughter might make it hers. “It's a great college,” I said.

“It certainly is,” Grant added. “And I won't lie; I'd love having you so close and living up here during the school year.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. Sure, I knew that day would come when Orli would leave home for college just as I had. But now I felt a twinge of jealousy. For some reason, I felt left out, left behind— because the place that I had always occupied in Orli's life would now be filled by Grant.

 

By nine o'clock Orli said she was going to take a shower and get to bed.

She stood up and stifled a yawn. “I'm tired. What are the plans for tomorrow, Dad?”

“That's up to both of you. Gram would like us to stop by, though, for a quick hello. So maybe we could do lunch in Marblehead.”

“Sounds great,” I said.

“Could we take a drive up the coast to Gloucester and Rockport?” Orli asked.

“Sure. We'll go to my mother's in the morning, then get lunch and go for a drive.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said, kissing both of us good night and heading to the bedroom.

Grant watched her leave the room and smiled. “We have one special daughter, don't we?”

I nodded. “We do.”

“How about a nightcap? A glass of wine?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

I followed him into the kitchen and perched on a stool as he uncorked a bottle of cabernet and filled two glasses.

“Here you go,” he said, passing one to me. “And here's to our amazing daughter and her future.”

I nodded. “Yes, to Orli's future.”

“Would you be okay with Orli going to college up here?” he asked.

“I'd miss her, but no matter where she goes, I'll miss her, so yes, of course.”

“You seemed surprised about the journalism major.”

“Yeah, I was, in a way. But at this age most young women still aren't exactly sure what they want.”

“Ah, unlike you, huh?”

I looked across the counter and saw a smile cover Grant's face. “I thought I was sure about journalism, but as we know now, it really wasn't what I wanted.”

He took a sip of wine before saying, “Actually, I was referring to you and me. I recall a young woman of nineteen who was very adamant that she shouldn't marry and should raise her daughter pretty much on her own.”

Over the years I couldn't recall Grant ever bringing this topic up in a conversation, so I was surprised that he did now.

I blew out a breath. “It wasn't so much the not getting married, Grant. I just think the
timing
was wrong. There you were about to graduate college, heading toward a career in law. It wouldn't have been easy for you.”

He nodded. “Hmm, you're right. I know that.” He took a gulp of wine and shook his head. “Odd, though, how life is, isn't it? Do you ever think how your life might have been different had we married before Orli was born?”

“I have thought about that. I don't think I would have become a nurse for one thing. I would have been a stay-at-home mom, I'm sure.”

“Probably. Would you have minded that?”

I thought about his question for a few moments. “Not at all when Orli was small. Actually, I would have welcomed it. It was tough trying to juggle low-paying jobs and spending quality time with Orli.”

Grant nodded, and I went on, “But I think once she got into high school I would have wanted to find myself outside of the home. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do. Yes, of course, and I think that's natural. So maybe that's when you would have gone to college and become a nurse.”

“You could be right. But we were young when I got pregnant with Orli, so who knows if our marriage would have lasted. And look at what we have now . . . a wonderful and close friendship. We might have jeopardized this by getting married at that time.”

I saw a thoughtful expression cross Grant's face, and he let out a deep sigh. “Hmm, you could be right. So when do you begin your new job?”

“The week after New Year's, January seventh.”

“Are you excited?” he asked.

“I am. It'll be nice working so close to home, and I think Simon will be a dream to work with.”

“Simon?”

I laughed. “Well, Dr. Mancini, but he told me to call him by his first name outside of office hours.”

“I see,” was all he said, and if I didn't know better, I'd think there was a tad of jealousy there.

As if to confirm this, he asked, “So are you and Simon . . . seeing each other outside of the office?”

“Well, we haven't begun working together yet, but . . . yeah, we've had a couple dinners together. But they really can't qualify as dates. Just friendly, informal dinners.”

I took the last sip of my wine and glanced up to the clock on the wall. “Gosh, it's ten-fifteen already. No wonder I'm tired. I'm sure Orli is fast asleep, so I'm going to take a quick shower and jump in bed myself.”

I got up to place my wineglass in the sink and felt Grant's hands on my shoulders. I spun around to find his face inches from mine.

“I'm glad you're here,” he said. “I've always loved being with you.”

“Same here,” I told him before his lips touched my cheek. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” I heard him say as I walked toward the bedroom. For the first time in sixteen years I felt unsure of myself with him.