The Inn at Angel Island

Chapter Ten

DANIEL steered the truck up toward the inn and parked at the front door.

“Coming in?” Liza asked. Half of her wanted him to come inside, the other half didn’t. She wanted to be alone awhile and savor their time together in secret. She didn’t want to be with him right now around other people.

He thought about it a moment, then shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m going to get home now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Right. See you tomorrow.” She sat very still, looking at him. He seemed about to lean over and kiss her when her brother burst out of the house and ran down the porch steps, coming to a stop at the passenger door of the truck.

“Liza, are you all right?” he called.

Daniel laughed. “I guess you’d better go. Your adoring fans await.”

“Yes, I guess so,” she said quietly. She glanced at him a moment, then opened the door and jumped out, practically landing in her brother’s arms.

“I’m okay, honestly.”

Peter stared at her, his brow furrowed with worry as they climbed the steps toward the house. “What is that you’re wearing? You look like… the Little Prince.”

Liza laughed. “I do look like the Little Prince. I couldn’t quite figure it out. But that’s exactly right.”

Peter seemed puzzled at her cheerful answer and good mood. But before he could question her further, Claire stepped out onto the porch, holding a towel as big as a blanket. Liza, who was still damp and chilled, gratefully pulled the towel around her.

“Liza, we were worried about you,” Peter said, as they paraded into the house. “Where have you been?”

“Oh… I didn’t go too far,” she insisted.

A lightning bolt lit up the sky, and their conversation was interrupted by the big boom that followed.

“Where’s Jeff?” she asked, looking around.

“He and Daniel went out to look for you. Jeff came back after a while and waited around. But he finally left a few minutes ago,” Peter reported.

“Good.” Liza sighed, feeling relieved. “I’m going up to change my clothes.”

“You ought to take a hot shower,” Claire advised.

A hot shower was a great idea. A long hot shower.

“Where’s Daniel? Isn’t he coming in?” Peter opened the front door and looked out at the rain.

“He had to go home,” Liza said.

Peter closed the door. “Why didn’t he call and let us know you were all right?”

Liza paused at the bottom of the staircase. “We stopped at the tearoom in the town center. I guess we just forgot to call.”

Peter frowned. “Just forgot? That wasn’t very considerate. Daniel knew we were all worried about you,” he added, sounding like an anxious father.

Liza didn’t feel remotely like an errant teenager, but she didn’t want to turn this into a fight. “I’m sorry, Peter. It was my fault. I was afraid Jeff was still here. I didn’t want to see him.”

“I thought that might be the problem,” he said, his tone softening. “Daniel was a good sport to kill some time with you until the coast was clear.”

“Yes, a very good sport.” She started up the stairs, hoping her brother hadn’t noticed the smile that stretched across her face.

Liza took a hot shower and changed into clean, dry sweats and thick socks. Down in the kitchen she found Peter sitting at the table with a mug of coffee. It was late afternoon, almost time for dinner.

“Would you like some hot soup or some tea?” Claire asked.

Despite the shower and all the tea she’d had with Daniel, Liza still felt chilled.

“Some tea would be great. Thanks, Claire.”

“The water’s all ready.” Claire made the tea and set the mug down at her place, then lifted Liza’s wet hair and slipped a fluffy towel around her shoulders. “You don’t want to get your back all wet again,” she said quietly.

Liza tilted her head up and smiled at the housekeeper. She was so tired from her ordeal, she didn’t mind being waited on and fussed over.

The rain was falling steadily in gusty sheets that battered the house. Peter had been reading the paper and put it down after a particularly loud rumble of thunder. “I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean on a boat,” he said.

Liza smiled. “At least the house isn’t rocking from side to side.”

“Not yet,” he replied, raising his eyebrows as another loud crack of lightning illuminated the sky. “I hope you aren’t thinking of going home in this tonight,” he said to Claire. “The roads will definitely be flooded.”

“They were already pretty bad this afternoon,” Liza said. “You really have to stay over, Claire.”

“Yes, I’ll stay the night,” Claire agreed. “That’s what my room on the third floor is for.”

“Don’t bother cooking a big dinner, Claire,” Liza added. “We’ll just have sandwiches or leftovers.”

Will came into the kitchen then, earbuds draped around his neck. “This storm is fierce,” he said. “I tried to text Sawyer, but nothing’s going through.” Sawyer, Liza had learned, was one of Will’s friends in Tucson. “Think it will be over in an hour?” he asked his dad.

Peter shook his head. “No, this isn’t like a monsoon back home. The storms here can last for days.”

Will shot him an alarmed look. “Days?”

Peter looked about to reply when a huge crack of lightning streaked across the sky. The entire room grew very bright for a long moment, then they heard the thunder, which seemed to shake the entire building.

They all held their breath as the lights in the house flickered… then went out.

“That did it,” Peter grumbled, putting down his newspaper once and for all.

“The power’s gone out,” Claire said.

The room was completely black. Liza could barely see her hand.

“This is cool. Sort of like a fun house,” Will declared.

“It’s not going to be much fun if it stays this way,” his father pointed out. “There’s not a lot we can do in the dark.”

“There’s nothing to do around here anyway. What’s the difference?” Will asked.

Sarcastic but true, Liza thought.

“We may be without electricity, but we’re not without light,” Claire said. “I’ve gathered some flashlights and candles.” She made her way over to the kitchen counter behind Liza and picked up something. Liza heard metallic sounds. Then a powerful beam of light glowed. It was a large camping lantern. Claire set it in the middle of the table and then picked up a smaller flashlight, which she handed to Liza.

“Thanks, Claire,” Liza said. “Good thing you thought ahead and had those handy.”

“Okay, we have some flashlights. What now?” Peter asked.

Liza was about to answer, but before she could, a loud knock sounded on the door.

They all turned to look at one another.

“Who could that be?” Liza asked, wondering.

“I’d better get it.” Peter rose and picked up one of the other flashlights on the counter.

“Can I come?” Will asked, rising in his chair.

“You stay here,” his father commanded. “Let me see who it is first.”

“Who do you think it is, Dad… Dracula?” Will asked.

“Very funny,” Peter grumbled, as he checked the light and stalked off. Though from the expression on his face, Liza wondered if he did expect a scary visitor of some kind.

Then she heard Peter open the door and heard him talking to someone, a man’s voice.

Maybe it’s Daniel, she thought. Maybe the route back to his house was flooded, so he had to turn around and come back here.

She secretly readied herself for Daniel’s appearance. But her heart soon flipped from unexpected cheer to unexpected dread. She did recognize the visitor’s voice. It wasn’t Daniel. And she might have welcomed Count Dracula more.

“Jeff is here,” Peter called out from the foyer. “The bridge was flooded. He couldn’t cross.”

Liza walked into the hallway and stopped. Jeff stood at the front door, slipping out of his wet leather jacket. His hair and pants were wet, too. He glanced at her with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry. I rode around the island for a while after I left here, just to take a look.”

Looking for me, Liza filled in silently. She was glad she had gone to the cemetery. Jeff would never have guessed she was there, even if he had driven right by. It almost felt as if her aunt had protected her from him out there.

“The rain started and I wasn’t thinking,” Jeff went on. “But by the time I got to the bridge, it was closed. I didn’t realize that’s how they run things here.”

That wasn’t how any group of people on the island ran things. It was the way nature ran things. But Liza didn’t try to explain that to him.

Claire stepped past Liza and handed Jeff a towel.

“Thank you,” Jeff said sincerely. He wiped his face, then rubbed his hair.

“Well, you might as well come in,” Liza said finally. “I guess you’ll have to stay awhile.”

If not the entire night.

“How long does it take for the water to recede?” he asked.

Liza shrugged. “It all depends on the weather conditions and the tide.”

“High tide is around nine tonight. I just read it in the paper,” Peter said. “With all this rain and wind, I doubt the bridge will open until one or even two in the morning.”

“We can call the gatehouse and find out,” Claire said. “I have the phone number in the kitchen.”

There was a chance that the water would clear up by midnight or so, Liza thought. But not much of a chance. It seemed like she was stuck with Jeff, whether she liked it or not.

A short time later, they all sat down to an early dinner by candlelight-sandwiches and more soup. Luckily, the gas range was not affected by the power outage, and the meal was perfect for the rainy night.

Jeff was on his best behavior, Liza noticed. He was pretty quiet and only spoke when spoken to. He was probably afraid that given the way things were going for him today, she might toss him out in the storm. She had given it a thought.

After dinner it was too early to go up to bed, though the storm still raged outside and there seemed no possibility of the power coming back.

Jeff called the gatehouse at the bridge from his cell phone, though they all knew it was a lost cause.

“Still closed. They doubt it will open until the morning.”

“You have to stay over, I guess,” Liza said. “It’s all right, we have plenty of room.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Jeff tried to catch her eye, but she looked away.

“I’ll make up a room for you,” Claire said.

“I’ll help,” Liza offered, looking for an excuse to go upstairs.

“That’s all right. I just need to put sheets on a bed. Everything else is ready.”

As if she had already guessed someone would be staying over tonight, Liza thought. How did Claire know these things? Liza decided that one day she would have to ask her.

“Why don’t we play a board game or something?” Peter suggested. Will groaned and covered his face with his hand, but Peter ignored him. “I saw some in the parlor; I’ll get them.”

Liza felt uncomfortable once Peter left. But at least Will was still there.

Jeff smiled at her. “What a storm. It’s like a full-blown hurricane.”

“Not quite,” Liza answered. “But the island is out in the open. The storms in the spring hit very hard.”

“I’m sorry I had to come back,” he said. “I know you weren’t happy to see me.”

Liza shrugged. “You’re here now. There’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s just get through the evening, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, Liza. Whatever you say.”

Peter returned with an armful of board games. After some debate, they decided to play Scrabble.

It took a round or two to identify the best players at the table. Liza was not bad but not exactly a top contender. Neither was Jeff, and after a short time, he excused himself and went upstairs with a flashlight, planning to read in his room.

Claire was very good, Liza noticed, the best at the table. While Peter and Will argued over the rules, she would sit quietly, fiddling with her tiles. And then when her turn came, she would invariably lay down a high-scoring word.

“Zydeco…” Claire said, carefully placing her tiles and racking up over thirty points in one blow.

As the game wound down, it was easy to see that Claire would win by a wide margin. Peter and Will continued to battle it out for second place with fierce, competitive energy that seemed distinctly male, Liza thought. Or perhaps it was some father-son dynamic.

She suddenly remembered why she hated playing board games with her brother. It wasn’t just that he was older and usually more skillful than she was. It was that he took them so seriously and was so focused on winning. Will seemed to be putting up with it and even giving Peter some of his own medicine back. But Peter was gloating at every chance, and that could get on anyone’s nerves after a while.

At first it was great to watch Will having fun, without the benefit of his iPod, cell phone, or computer. But as the game drew to a close and the tension level rose, he started to sink into a mood. Finally, her nephew and brother were down to one tile each, with Will several points ahead of Peter.

Will had a K and could find no spot to place it. Peter had an S, which was much easier to add to almost any word on the board. He soon found the perfect spot, at the end of one of Claire’s doozies-the word quip. And the S just happened to land on a “double word score” square.

“Eureka! Got you, Will. I told you that your old man would beat you. Believe it, buddy.” Peter stood up and made a great show of placing the winning consonant down. “Quips. Q-U-I-P-S. Double word score-I win!”

“Claire won, Peter,” Liza reminded him. “You’re in second place.”

“Whatever,” her brother said, undeterred from his victory.

Even in the dark, Liza could see Will’s face grow red with indignation.

“Let me see that.” He grabbed the board and twisted it around. “Quips? Are you sure that’s a word? I’ve never heard of it.”

Claire put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “It’s a word, Will. But you did very well. Especially for someone who never plays this game. I was very impressed.”

Will didn’t answer. He just stared at the board, his face twisted in disappointment. “That stinks. S-T-I-N-K-S,” he said finally.

“Hey, it’s just a game. I won fair and square, Will. No need to be a sore loser,” Peter told him.

Will tossed his head back. “Right. It’s just a game, Dad. That’s why you’re hopping up and down. Totally dissing me.” Will stood up and flipped the board over, scattering tiles in all directions. “Whoops,” he said, in a tone that clearly communicated this was no accident. “Sorry about that.”

Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

“Will, come back here! Where are you going?” Peter called after him.

“Up to bed. All that spelling gave me a headache,” he called back.

“He needs to come back and clean this up,” Peter said, his voice tense.

Liza glanced at Claire, who wore an expression somewhere between sympathy for Will and outright laughter. Peter had been laying it on pretty thick. Maybe he did deserve a little of this bad behavior.

“It’s too dark to find the tiles tonight, Peter. He can clean it up tomorrow,” Liza suggested. “I’m really tired. I’m heading up to bed.”

“Me, too.” Claire rose and picked up her flashlight. “Let’s go up together, we’ll have more light,” she suggested.

They left the room, and Peter soon followed.

Up in her room, Liza quickly prepared for bed. It wasn’t really late, but sitting in the dark for hours had made her sleepy. Or maybe it was all the bike riding in the rain.

As Liza changed into her nightgown, she heard footsteps in the hallway outside her room, going back and forth to the bathroom. Claire had given Jeff a room on the third floor, and Liza was grateful for that. It was bad enough to have him stay overnight. She didn’t need him sleeping in close proximity.

By the time Liza shut off the light and got into bed, the storm seemed to have slowed down. Raindrops still fell against the big window in her room, but the wind seemed quieter. She had not quite fallen asleep when she heard a gentle tapping on her door.

She sat up in bed. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Jeff,” her ex whispered. “Come to the door.”

Liza sighed out loud. She knew he was going to pull something like this. She had half a mind to make a big scene, but she didn’t want to wake everyone.

“Okay, I’m coming.” But you’re not coming in, pal, she added silently.

Liza pulled on a bathrobe, tied the belt, then went to the door and opened it a crack. Jeff stood in the darkness waiting, still mostly dressed, she was relieved to see. He was barefoot but wearing a white T-shirt and jeans.

“What is it? Do you need a toothbrush or something?”

“I need to talk to you. Just for a minute,” he said quietly.

Liza stared at him. He just wasn’t going to give up, was he?

“It’s late, Jeff. We can talk tomorrow. Before you go,” she added.

“I’d rather talk now. When we can have some privacy. Just let me come in for a second. For goodness’ sake, Liza. We were married for over seven years.”

But we’re not anymore, Liza nearly replied, and you seem like a stranger to me now.

She wasn’t sure when that had happened. But she felt now as if she were seeing Jeff for the first time, from a great distance. And she wondered how and why she had ever married him.

“Please?” he asked.

“All right. We can talk. Just for a few minutes. Let’s go downstairs,” she suggested. She quickly stepped out of the room without giving him time to debate. Turning on her flashlight, she headed for the stairs.

Jeff seemed surprised by this maneuver but soon followed her downstairs and then into the parlor.

She sat in an armchair, giving him no opportunity to get close. “All right, Jeff. Here we are. It’s late, and I’d like to get some sleep.”

“I tried to sleep, but I knew I couldn’t. I want to apologize for what I did today. I was just so… so overwhelmed by my insight about our relationship,” he explained, “I had to share it with you. But I shouldn’t have come here without asking you first. I can see that now. I just want to apologize,” he added in a humble tone.

Liza was surprised. She thought she was going to have to field another plea for reconciliation. She could handle this conversation.

“It’s all right. I understand, I guess… Let’s just get past it, okay?” She took a deep breath. “I’ve done some thinking today, too. I’m not sure we should have ever gotten married. We always got along well, we seemed to want the same things out of life… but I’m not sure the feelings were ever deep enough to last. On either side,” she added, though it was painful to admit.

“Liza, please don’t say that. You’re still angry with me. About my-my mistake. The way I hurt you. And you have a perfect right to be.”

“I’m not angry anymore,” she said honestly. She didn’t know when that had happened. Maybe the rainstorm had washed all the anger out of her. “In fact, I even understand how it could have happened. Really,” she insisted. “When you came here today, I was upset. But I know I played a part in our breakup, Jeff. I can see that now. Getting back together just wouldn’t work for me. There’s nothing to build on anymore,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure there ever was much solid ground.”

His expression tightened with pain, and she felt sorry for what she had said. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She just wanted to be honest. Maybe for the very first time.

He was silent for a long while. At last he said, “So this is how you really feel?”

“Yes, that’s it. I can finally put it into words. I hope you understand.”

“I do,” he answered, then let out a long sigh. “I don’t agree, but I guess I have to accept this as your final answer.”

“It is. I admit, I’ve been uncertain these past few months about what to do. Or if we should try again. But I feel really clear about things now. I’m sorry to hurt you, but sometime in the future, I think you’ll see it was the right thing to do.”

She believed that, too, finally. She could see now in the rubble of their relationship an opportunity for both of them to be happier, to find a deeper, more genuine connection.

Would her connection with Daniel grow to something more? It was much too soon to say. But Liza could see from the short time they had spent together that there were possibilities for her.

She wasn’t pushing Jeff away for Daniel, but her time with him had helped her see that she had changed and Jeff just wasn’t right for her anymore. She needed something different. Someone different. Jeff did, too.

“I hope so, Liza. It seems I have no choice, no matter how I feel right now. Part of me will always love you,” he insisted.

He leaned down and gave her a hug. Liza didn’t resist. She knew part of her would always love him, too, in a certain way.

Jeff stood up. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Jeff.” Liza stood up, too, but didn’t follow him to the stairway.

She heard him go upstairs, and she went to the window. There seemed to be a break in the storm, though she wondered if it had ended for good. The thick gray clouds had parted and scuttled across the sky, driven by the wind.

Behind the clouds the full moon shone bold and bright, finally having its say. Liza thought it was a beautiful sight. It made her feel calm and whole, reminding her of the endless cycles that hold the universe together. That held her life together. Nothing really ended, not even a marriage. It evolved into something different, and life went on.

BACK in her room, Liza left her flashlight on the night table by her bed. She slipped under the covers and quickly fell asleep.

She was not sure how long she had been asleep or what time it was when she heard the storm build again, the wind and rain beating against the windowpanes and rooftop. She woke up for a moment and rolled to her side, the rumble of thunder seeming part of her dreams.

It was sometime later when a brilliant light filled her room, startling her from a deep sleep. She sat up in bed, wide-eyed. It seemed as if a huge beacon had been shining into the bedroom windows.

Then she heard the crackle of lightning and a huge boom. The entire house shook, feeling as if it were about to explode. A thunderous cracking sound came next, then a huge crash-right above her head. It sounded as if the house had been hit with a bomb.

Liza jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway, grabbing the flashlight as she pulled open her bedroom door. Peter was already in the hallway along with Will.

Her nephew ran to her, looking frightened. “What was that, Aunt Liza? I smell smoke.”

“I do, too. Get a rain jacket and your shoes, Will, and wait in the foyer. We may have to leave the house.”

She didn’t think the house was on fire. There was no smoke alarm sounding. But she had no idea what had happened. It didn’t hurt to be cautious.

Claire came down from the third floor in her bathrobe, followed by Jeff. They both carried flashlights, and the thin beams darted around in the darkness.

“The big tree on the drive, right next to the house, was hit by lightning,” Claire reported. “A branch went through the roof.”

“Oh, great…” Peter pushed past everyone and ran up the steps, two at a time. Liza followed. They came to the third floor, and he pulled open the door to the attic.

Liza felt a cold rush of air and heard the rain coming in. She followed Peter up the narrow stairs. Ahead of her, he went all the way into the attic. She poked her head up to see what was going on.

“I can’t believe this,” he moaned. “Look at this mess!”

A huge tree branch had crashed through the roof and left a big jagged hole where the night sky could be seen clearly. The wind-driven rain poured in, soaking everything nearby-boxes and furniture and stacks of her aunt’s canvases that had been stored up there. Bits of shingles, tarpaper, the wooden beams of the roof, and pieces of the tree were also scattered all over. The branch itself sat heavy and immobile in the middle of everything. It looked like the tip of a big wooden arrow, Liza thought, that had been shot at their house by some angry giant.

“Let’s pull some of this out of the way if we can.” Liza didn’t wait for help. She ran over to the wettest area and grabbed what she could-a large steamer trunk-dragging it to a dry spot. Then she ran back to rescue more.

Claire and Jeff came up into the attic, and eventually even Will joined them, and everyone worked together to clear the space under and around the huge branch.

“We need to put something over the hole,” Claire said. “A tarp or a drop cloth or something.”

“How will we do that?” Liza was grateful for the suggestion, spoken in such a cool, level-headed manner, but she didn’t have the foggiest idea of how this remedy could be accomplished.

“We can use one of the ladders Daniel left and get up to the roof, then pull the tarp over. One person can stand up on the balcony on the third floor,” Claire suggested.

“That might work,” Liza reasoned aloud. “We have to try.”

The rain was still falling hard and showed no sign of letting up anytime soon.

Liza ran downstairs and pulled on clothes, then ran out to the shed and found three large tarps. Luckily they had ropes dangling off grommets on the corners. That would help to pull them up, she thought.

Peter was already outside with Jeff, positioning the longest of the extension ladders. He took a deep breath, gave his sister a look from under the hood of his yellow rain jacket, then reached for the biggest tarp.

“Go up to the balcony on the third floor,” he told Liza. “I’ll toss you one corner of the tarp. If you pull on it, maybe it will cover the hole.”

“We should tie a weight or something to one end, Dad,” Will said. “Then we can fling it over the peak of the roof.”

Liza looked at her nephew, who had come out into the rain with the rest of them. “Genius. Sheer genius. That’s exactly what we need to do, or it probably won’t reach.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

Will grinned, then ran off and found a good-sized rock. He tied one end to one of the ropes attached to the tarp, and finally Peter started up the ladder.

“I’ll hold the ladder steady,” Jeff told his ex-brother-in-law. Liza was surprised that he had come outside and was trying to help. It was a nice gesture, all things considered.

Liza ran upstairs to the third-floor balcony, where she waited for Peter to toss one end of the tarp over the roof to her.

After several attempts and some adjustments in their strategy, the hole was finally covered. Claire had come out on the balcony to help Liza while Jeff and Will shouted instructions to Peter from below.

The tarp was pulled tight and secured outside by tying down the ropes that hung from each corner with some large nails driven into the roof.

When the tarp finally seemed secure, they all went inside again. Jeff and Will headed for hot showers while Peter, Liza, and Claire went back up to the attic to make sure there was no more water leaking in.

It was still a disaster area to be sure. But they could see that the tarp covered the hole adequately, and only a small amount of rain still seeped through.

“It should hold for a while,” Liza said. “At least until the rain ends.”

“It’d better. I don’t think we can do anything more tonight,” Peter said wearily.

They were all exhausted and returned to their rooms. For the second time that day, Liza pulled off sopping wet clothes and put on a T-shirt and sweatpants, then dropped onto her bed. The clock read five minutes past five. She closed her eyes, hoping for a few hours of sleep before she had to get up and deal with this latest crisis.

What was going to happen to her next? She was afraid to even consider the question. One disaster at a time. That was her new motto.

LIZA managed to sleep for an hour or so but soon woke up, feeling anxious and worried. She went down to the kitchen and was surprised to find Claire already there, the scent of something baking filling the room with a buttery, sweet aroma.

The smell of coffee rose from a drip pot, and Liza helped herself to a cup. “The rain has stopped. At least for a while. Is the power on yet?”

“Not yet, that usually takes a few hours,” Claire replied.

Liza sat with her coffee and took a sip. “Thanks for your quick thinking last night. I would have never thought of covering the roof like that. We would all be swimming around in a fishbowl right now,” she joked.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Claire replied modestly. “You would have come up with some solution.”

Maybe so, but Claire’s cool head and resourcefulness had definitely saved the day. Liza was grateful to her. Not just for the roof, she realized, but for all the help she had so freely given ever since Liza had arrived.

“I guess we’ll have to get the roof fixed before we can sell this place,” Liza said, thinking out loud. “No one’s going to buy it in this condition.”

“That branch has tossed a monkey wrench into your plans,” Claire agreed in a sympathetic tone. She opened the oven and peered inside. The cinnamon smell was incredibly delicious.

“Too bad for your brother, he seems to be counting on a quick sale.”

“Yes, he is,” Liza said. She had come here wanting a quick sale, too. But she felt differently about it now. Perhaps Claire sensed that. The next thing the housekeeper said made Liza think so.

“Did you ever hear that saying, ‘When God closes one door, He always opens another’?” Claire asked.

“My aunt used to say that whenever I got frustrated-trying to make a sports team or missing out on some job situation.”

Claire smiled. “Yes, it was one of her favorite sayings. She also used to say that the problem with most people is that they sit staring at the closed door so long, they never notice the open one.”

Liza didn’t recall that part of the proverb. A nice twist, she thought. Were she and Peter staring at the closed door right now, even with a huge branch poking right through it? Claire seemed to think so.

Funny how just yesterday when she visited the cemetery, she was thinking that her aunt would not have approved of such a rush sale, making such a big decision without taking their time, considering their choices. Looking for another open door. Looking at things… creatively.

Peter needed the money. He had made no secret of that. He was counting on it.

But I have money I can loan him or even give him, Liza realized. She and Jeff had sold their condo as a condition of their separation agreement. Liza had planned to buy a new property with her share, but the money was just sitting in the bank. Hers to do with as she pleased.

“Would you like a muffin?” Claire asked, setting a basket of hot muffins on the table.

Liza took one and put in on her plate. Then she peeled back the paper wrapper. “This looks great. What kind is it, carrot?”

“Not exactly. It’s called Morning Glory.”

Liza took a bite. “It’s good. Really good,” she said around a mouthful.

Claire looked pleased by her reaction. “It’s an old recipe, but it comes out a little different every time. It all comes together in the end, though. If you relax and take your time.”

Liza didn’t cook much, but she had some idea of what Claire was talking about. That was the way she had always felt about her art. She would set out with some concept for what she wanted to capture in a sketch or painting, but then she always had to allow for the work to take on its own life, to speak with its own voice. For the unexpected to evolve. That was the fun of it, the magic.

Liza wanted to talk more to Claire about this notion, but Jeff was coming down the hall toward the kitchen, dressed and ready to go. “Well, I’m off,” he said. “If the bridge isn’t open yet, I’ll just wait.”

“I think it will be open by now,” Claire said.

“Would you like some coffee before you go?” Liza asked. She and Jeff might not be a couple anymore, but they could be decent to each other.

He hesitated. “All right, just a quick cup.”

Claire poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. He didn’t sit down but drank it standing.

“Thanks for helping out last night,” Liza said. “It was all hands on deck.”

“It was exciting. I sort of enjoyed it.” Jeff glanced at her. “A memorable chapter in a memorable visit.”

Liza didn’t answer. She met his glance and looked away.

“How about a muffin-for the road? They’re very good.”

She held out the basket, a peace offering. He smiled finally and took a muffin, then wrapped it in a napkin. “For the road, then.”

Jeff said good-bye to Claire and headed for the door.

Liza followed. “Good-bye, Jeff,” she said. “Drive safely.”

“Good-bye, Liza.” He turned and briefly hugged her. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” he said, as he stepped away.

“I hope so, too,” Liza replied. Though she hadn’t until that moment realized she was searching for anything special in her life. She just knew what she didn’t want. But maybe that was the same thing, just viewed from a different angle.

She stepped out onto the porch. Jeff climbed into his car and drove away. She watched the car turn at the end of the drive, then disappear. An ordinary sight. Yet in this instance, it felt so final.

Liza stood on the porch, hugging her arms around her for warmth as she stared out at the ocean and the crystal clear sky.

Finding closure about her marriage and her disillusionment with her job had left a gaping hole in her life. Two focal points of her life had been wiped off the playing board. In the blink of an eye, it seemed.

Now there was just a big hole there. Like the one up in the roof. How would she fix it? What should she do?

It seemed like a huge disaster. But it had also opened a space where you could see the blue sky or the stars at night.

That was something to think about, too.

It was all in the way you looked at things, Liza realized. Out on this island, she seemed to be seeing everything from a very different perspective.