Summer with My Sisters (35 page)

P
oppy was in the kitchen making a big pot of ratatouille for dinner. Not only was it an easy dish, it made good use of local, seasonal ingredients, and somehow, it tasted even better on the second and third day. In the past weeks she had come to really enjoy cooking, not that she was under any illusions about her skill level. But so far she hadn’t poisoned anyone and lately she had been getting more compliments than complaints. The zucchini and tomatoes from her favorite farm stand were washed. She would serve corn on the cob as well, another summer no-brainer. And of course there would have to be bread. Poppy smiled to herself. She and her sisters were fiends for carbs.

Why the thought of bread should make her think of Sophie, Poppy didn’t know, unless it was the fact that while Sophie had been staying with them she had tucked into each meal Poppy and Allie served as if it were her last. Well, Poppy thought, the poor thing was probably afraid that the meal might indeed be her last, at least, the last eaten in a clean and secure place.

A few weeks had passed now since Sophie and her father had been reunited under Billy Woolrich’s roof. Poppy and her sisters had helped furnish Sophie’s room there with a few items from the house on Willow Way, including a desk, chair, and table lamp. Freddie and Sheila had bought Sophie a laptop, essential for schoolwork. Allie had contributed a fancifully framed wall mirror Sophie had picked out at Home Goods as well as a beautiful handcrafted wooden jewelry box where Sophie could keep the precious items she would certainly accumulate over time. There were instances, Poppy well knew, when decorations and trimmings could be considered essentials for comfort and happiness, and this was one of them. Sophie had been without her own possessions for too long.

Others had helped get the Steubens settled, too. Freddie had arranged for the Shettleworths to ship Sophie’s clothing to Maine. The few household items of the Steubens’ that had not been sold off or repossessed would remain in the Shettleworths’ basement until father and daughter were more permanently established. Julie had offered Sophie a job helping out with Virginia and Michael two afternoons a week once the baby was born. And Nico, keeping good on his promise to do something good for the Steubens, had given Dan a hefty gift certificate to Macy’s so that he could replenish his wardrobe with all of the basics. If he were to work in Freddie’s office, he needed to look the part. Freddie had a strict no-flannel-or-jeans rule. She believed that sloppy clothing fostered sloppy thinking.

“Hey.”

Poppy looked up and smiled. “Hey to you, too.”

Allie came into the kitchen and perched on a stool at the counter. “Ratatouille,” she noted. “One of my favorites.”

“Mine, too.” Poppy looked more closely at her friend. “You look like you have something on your mind,” she said. “You know you have the worst poker face ever.”

“I do have something on my mind. I’ll be heading back to Boston at the end of the week.”

“Pressing business?”

Allie laughed. “Some, but even so, I can’t be a houseguest forever!”

“Don’t be silly,” Poppy scolded. “It’s been so good having you here. You were a real help to me, to us all.”

“I don’t know about that, but I certainly enjoyed the summer.”

“So, when will we see you again?”

“I’ll be back before long,” Allie promised.

“Good. You’re welcome to stay here any time, you know that.”

“Thanks, but actually, what I meant was that I’ve decided to buy a small place in Yorktide. Well, maybe a big place. I’ll see what strikes my fancy.”

Poppy put down the knife she had been using to cut up the vegetables. “Why Yorktide?” she asked. “Not that I won’t be thrilled to have you as a neighbor. We all will be. But why leave your life in Boston?”

“I’ll keep the house, it’s such a gem. I’ve decided to move some of my belongings up to your old apartment on the third floor and rent out the lower floors. And I’ll visit back and forth. You can’t keep me away from the museums! Okay, and the stores. But . . .”

“Yes?” Poppy prompted.

“Well,” Allie said, “I like it here in Yorktide. I like the peace and the quiet and the beauty. I like that in five minutes I can be picking apples or having a gourmet dinner dockside. And I also like being close to you and your sisters and Freddie and Sheila and Jon and his family. I like Julie, the little I know of her. And Billy and Sophie and—”

“And Dan?” Poppy asked. “Why, Allie, I do believe you’re blushing!”

Allie put her palms against her cheeks. “At my age? Ugh. Anyway, I know it sounds—unexpected—and it is quick, too, but . . . Honestly, I’m not trying to be a selfless savior type. It’s just that Dan and I have spent a fair amount of time together in the past few weeks and I really like him. Who knows, maybe my friendship can help make him strong again. I really believe Dan wants to regain his independence and be present for his daughter.”

“And for you, as well?” Poppy asked gently.

“I hope for me, too,” Allie admitted. “But I’m willing to take a chance. I have no expectations. If he doesn’t feel the same way about me in the end . . . Well, at least I’ll know my heart isn’t dead after all. And that I’ll have done a good thing by being a friend in need.”

“You’re a brave woman, Allie.”

Allie laughed. “Brave or crazy, which is pretty much the same thing.”

“When it comes to love, I think you’re right!”

“So, you’re totally committed to setting up the charity? You know it’s going to be an awful lot of hard work, not to mention the steep learning curve involved.”

“I know, but I’m one hundred percent for the idea. It’s odd. Being an advocate for the homeless is the last thing I ever dreamed I’d become, and yet, it feels right. I’ve been so lucky in my life, Allie, in spite of losing Mom and Dad. It’s time I started to give back. And who knows where it will lead me? I feel excited about the future for the first time in my life, not intimidated by it.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, you’ve solved the problem of the meaningful career . . .”

“Back to the subject of love?” Poppy couldn’t restrain a big smile, nor did she want to. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve solved that, too.”

“Jon Gascoyne?”

Poppy laughed. “Who else? We’re in love and I feel ridiculously happy. You know, I came back to Yorktide after my father died sort of dreading everything. And yet, this summer—this summer with my sisters—has turned out to be the most important few months of my life.”

“So far,” Allie pointed out.

“Yes,” Poppy agreed. “So far!”

I
have to admit that back when Annabelle died after her cruel battle with cancer, I had my doubts about the survival of Oliver and the girls. I didn’t think for a minute that they would succumb to something as ridiculous as a suicide pact or go completely off the rails and join a cult dedicated to the cultivation of—I don’t know, of magic beans that sprouted dollar bills. But I did worry. Not that I let Oliver and the girls know my concern. Only Sheila was privy to my troubled thoughts. It was just that the Higgins family was so tight. So—well, it’s not a word I like to use very often, but they were so perfect, or damn near to it.

But in typical Higgins fashion they pulled through. Of course father and daughters grieved. But they went on and you could even say that in some sense they flourished. At least, neither Sheila nor I were able to detect any seriously suspicious or worrisome behaviors. If Oliver curtailed his travels and stuck closer to home, it was, I believe, more about his desire to spend time with his children than the result of a debilitating depression. Poppy took herself back to Boston, did her job, and paid her rent. Daisy and Violet continued with school and favorite activities, if in a somewhat more subdued fashion than usual.

And then, three years on, Oliver died and the world shook again. I was the one to find him, thank God, as it would have been dreadful for one of the girls to come across their father in such a state. Dead. His heart had never been good. Neither had his father’s before him. It was only a matter of time and Oliver had known that. His will and wishes had been firmly and legally in place for years. Still, and I would never admit this to Daisy, who in spite of her razor-sharp mind is quite the romantic, but for a while I, too, wondered if Oliver had died of a broken heart. Sentimental nonsense, of course.

Anyway, when the girls were left orphaned, when Poppy was summoned back from Boston to be the de facto head of the Higgins family, I girded my loins (so to speak) and anticipated—what? Chaos? Emotional breakdowns? Bad behaviors? Sheila, who has a lot more faith in the basic strength and goodness of human nature than I do, told me that I was being unfair to the children of my old friend. Have faith, she said. Have hope.

So I did. To the best of my ability. And look what happened. Yes, there was some moaning and groaning. Yes, there was some testiness and even minor, sporadic chaos. And yes, there was the upsetting fact that none of us, not even Sheila, saw just how badly Violet was handling the loss of both parents. But in the end—by which I mean the present time, a full year after Oliver’s death—all has come right. Poppy has found her purpose in life, and what a good and meaningful one it is, to be devoted to relieving the plight of homeless families. Equally as important, she’s found love with a person of substance who loves her unreservedly. Jon Gascoyne proposed to Poppy last Christmas (with his grandmother’s engagement ring) and they are set to be married this October, after which Jon will move into the house on Willow Way and I daresay that all will be well. Already Violet has benefited from her monthly visits (supervised by Poppy, still a skeptic) to a certified psychic; she hasn’t had an anxiety attack since February and has become friends with a girl her own age, new to Yorktide and a fellow other-world enthusiast. (Interesting note: Violet saw this girl from a distance last summer, when she and Sheila attended one of those ghastly craft fairs. The friendship, Violet says, was in the stars.)

As for Daisy, she seems happier than she has been since before the death of her beloved father. Having Sophie as a friend and classmate is certainly part of it, and let’s be frank—once Joel is off to college in the fall, Daisy will need a friend to hand. (By the way, Joel won that prestigious scholarship to study with the pros at the Berklee College of Music. I foresee big things for that young man.) And Sophie has proved a good friend to Daisy. She and her father (and more on him in a moment) are still bunking down with Billy Woolrich but are planning to move into their own rental by summer’s end. They see a family counselor once a week (I help with that expense; the way I see it, it’s an investment) and in my humble opinion (backed by Sheila’s less humble opinion) they are well on the road to healing the damage done to their relationship by that tragic car accident and its dreadful aftermath. In fact, it’s fair to say that I feel very proud of all four girls—young women—though I have no right to take pride in them, not being in the least responsible for their remarkable survival of the almost unbearable loss of family and, in Sophie’s case, home.

As for the restoration of Dan Steuben’s career, well, his suspension from the practice of the law should be reversed later this year if he continues clean and sober, which I have no doubt that he will. It means too much to him—being a father for his only child—to fail again now. He works for me as a clerk and over the months I’ve been introducing him to my clients in the hopes that before too long I can finally retire (something Sheila has been pestering me to do for years now) and hand over the practice to Dan.

Maybe the most interesting personal development to have come out of this past, turbulent year has been the nascent romance between Dan and Poppy’s friend Allie. I must admit that when Allie decided to buy a house in Yorktide last fall I had my suspicions about her motives. Well, actually, it was Sheila who suggested to me the idea that Allie was a wee bit smitten with Sophie’s father. It seemed to the both of us the height of foolishness to pin one’s hopes on a relationship with someone who had been so badly damaged and who was still in such a precarious emotional and financial state. But we said nothing and watched and hoped and I am now prepared to say that our concerns, while to be expected, seem to have been unnecessary. As I said, the romance is nascent, but it’s definitely there and Sophie seems to find in Allie a true friend so . . . Well, who knows? One can only hope.

And get dressed. Poppy is hosting a party at the house on Willow Way this evening to celebrate Dan’s forty-fifth birthday. The usual suspects will be present, including, if you can believe it, Nico, and a few other locals with whom Dan and Sophie have become friendly. Sheila says I’m to wear something “special,” but I’ve never been sure what exactly that means, so I’ll perform my usual helpless act and in the end she’ll pick out my outfit. Works every time.

 

A.
No! I have one brother, almost exactly two years younger than me. I certainly know a lot of sister groups, though! And unlike the Higgins girls, I am lucky enough, at the age of fifty-two, still to have my parents in this world.

 

 

A.
It does seem rather Dickensian when you put it that way! I suppose I was interested in the idea of exploring characters who, for very different reasons, suddenly and traumatically find themselves without a traditional family structure, by which I mean one or two responsible parents in the home. None of the young women we meet in the book anticipated the losses they would come to experience and each deals with the losses in a unique way. Also, the fact that the Higgins family is financially secure while the Steuben family is not allowed me to talk about some of the basic tenets of a decent life, which most of us tend to take for granted—enough food and water; a secure place to sleep, keep ourselves clean, and store our possessions; a decent education; a job that pays enough money to allow one to meet daily needs as well as to save for the future.

 

 

A.
Well, it’s pretty hard to keep the human spirit down for long and I tried to demonstrate this with having each main character simply go forward—spend time with friends, enjoy food, pursue hobbies and jobs, while at the same time adjusting to new and difficult circumstances. Ian was good for a chuckle, as well as to illustrate Poppy’s positive growth over the course of the book. And if some readers find the ending
too
happy and upbeat, well, I remind them that this is fiction, where, unlike in life, good things can happen simply because we want them to!

 

 

A.
Thoughts, yes, though the thoughts are preliminary. I will say that I’ll be trying my hand at creating a teen character quite different from the ones I’ve created in the past few novels, one much harder and more experienced, and without the whimsy and sweetness and even innocence many of my teens have displayed. She’ll be a sympathetic character of course—and that’s part of the challenge I’ll be facing, to balance her toughness with likeability.

 

 

A.
That will never happen. My ability to execute ideas might fail, but not my ability to find them!