The Inn at Angel Island

Chapter Five

ENERGIZED by the news of Peter’s arrival, Liza whipped through the rest of the foyer closet, then moved on to the dining room.

Claire covered the long dining-room table with a soft old blanket, and they began sorting out china, piles of dinner plates, soup bowls, teacups, and saucers-placing them in three categories: save, discard, and give away. Liza had just finished one shelf of many when she heard a car pull up the gravel drive.

“I think they’re here,” she said to Claire.

Liza set down a flower-rimmed bowl and ran to a window that faced the drive. A small red hatchback pulled up next to her own car. Her brother, Peter, sat in the driver’s seat, and an absolutely huge teenage boy sat beside him.

Was that her nephew, Will? She couldn’t believe it.

She watched as they got out of the car and Peter opened the trunk. Will got out of his side and walked to the back of the car. He was as tall as his father now, maybe even taller; it was hard to tell with his thick pile of dark hair.

“Look at Will. He’s so big, I didn’t even recognize him,” Liza said aloud. “I’ll go out and see if they need any help.”

Claire met her gaze and nodded with a gentle smile. “Let me know if you need a hand,” she said simply, then continued working on the china.

Liza ran out the front door and around to the drive. The cold air cut through the fine wool of her turtleneck, but she hardly missed a coat.

“Hey, you made it.” She ran up to her brother and greeted him with a big hug.

Peter hugged her back. “All the way from Tucson to Angel Island. It feels like we’ve landed on another planet,” he said.

Liza hadn’t thought about that before, but her brother had been living out in the desert since he started college, almost twenty years now. It must feel strange to come back to this place surrounded by water.

She was eager to say hello to Will, but he stood with his back to her, gazing out at the ocean.

“Has Will ever seen the ocean before?” she asked Peter.

“Once or twice. We took some trips to California. But not since he was much younger.”

Liza walked over to Will and touched his shoulder. “Hi, Will. It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Aunt Liza.” Will glanced at her, then looked back at the water. He had plugs in his ears, which led down to an iPod in his T-shirt pocket.

Liza wondered if he could even hear her but continued the conversation anyway. “You’ve gotten so tall. I hardly recognized you,” she said with amazement.

He turned again and met her glance. “Everybody says that. Like I’m a giant freak or something.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said quickly. “You just look all grown-up, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I know.” He sighed and looked over at his father. “Dad, I’m really hungry. Can we get something to eat?”

“Can you help with these bags, Will?” Peter ignored his son’s question, his voice flat and tired. Liza didn’t blame him. It was a long trip, and it sounded as if they had been traveling all night. Will rolled his eyes and walked back to the car.

Liza followed. “I can help,” she offered. She grabbed a duffel out of the trunk right after Will did and gave her nephew a smile. Finally, he smiled back.

Peter took the last duffel and slung a backpack over his shoulder, then shut the trunk. Liza noticed his care with the pack and guessed he had camera equipment in there. Peter rarely traveled without a camera or three.

As they marched into the inn, Claire stood in the foyer near the staircase, her hands folded primly in front of her. She might have been a statue, Liza thought, except for the warm sparkle in her blue eyes.

“Welcome, Peter and… Will. Is that right?”

Peter put his bags down and extended a hand. “You must be Claire North. It’s nice to meet you. Liza’s told me a lot about you.”

A lot? She hadn’t said a lot. Just a few significant details, Liza thought.

“It’s good to meet you, Peter.” Claire’s voice was warm and sincere. She turned to greet Will, but he was fiddling with his iPod and seemed to be purposely ignoring the housekeeper.

“Why don’t we just leave the bags down here for now?” Liza suggested. “Are you guys hungry? We’ll make you some sandwiches or something-”

“I’ll take a sandwich,” Will cut in quickly.

“Please.” his father suggested.

Will just stared at him, then shook his head and stomped toward the kitchen.

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’ve embarrassed him now. Gail says he’s too old to be corrected in front of other people, but he doesn’t have any manners.”

Liza didn’t have any kids and wasn’t about to take sides, but she could see how Will wouldn’t want to be corrected in front of her and Claire.

“Children that age will get embarrassed about anything,” Claire put in. “Even the way you breathe annoys them.”

Peter turned to Claire, looking validated. “He did say that to me once; I’m not kidding.” Then he suddenly looked alarmed. “I’d better catch up to him,” he said, “before he cleans out the refrigerator.”

Liza and Claire followed Peter to the kitchen, where they found Will standing at the counter, polishing off the remains of the chicken pot pie.

“Will, what are you doing? We’re guests here.” Peter’s voice was low and tense. He stepped over to Will and took the pie dish from his hand.

Will looked surprised, a bit of carrot hanging from his lip. “Dad, just chill. I’m just getting something to eat. You’re, like, flipping out on me.”

“It’s all right,” Liza said quickly. “We’re family. He can help himself to anything he likes.”

“I’m, like, starving here, and you’re standing out there talking. I thought you said you owned half of this place,” Will added in an accusing tone. “Doesn’t that include the food?”

“It certainly does,” Claire told Will. “But you really want to eat this warmed up. It has no flavor otherwise.”

She stepped forward, took the pie dish, placed a piece of paper towel on top, and stuck it in the microwave. “Just wash your hands and take a seat over there.” She pointed to the long table. “I’ll bring this over to you when it’s ready.”

Will scowled at her, but her expression remained smooth and calm. “There’s chocolate pudding pie for dessert. Interested?”

Will finally nodded. “Okay, I guess,” he said, as if she had been working hard to persuade him.

He walked over to the sink and washed up. Peter watched, then glanced at Liza. Liza didn’t say anything, relieved that the conflict had been so easily smoothed over. By Claire, of course.

If this is a preview of the next ten days, I’ d better fasten my seat belt, Liza thought.

It was going to be a bumpy ride.

WHILE Will was fed-and calmly tolerated-by Claire in the kitchen, Peter and Liza took some coffee out to the front porch. Liza had unwrapped a few chairs from their plastic coverings and set them near the front door. Peter settled down in one of the big Adirondack chairs, but Liza stood at the railing a moment and looked out at the patch of blue ocean and sky.

It felt good to get some fresh air after being in the house all day, dealing with dusty china-and her own chipped and cracked ambitions.

“You okay?” he asked her.

“Mostly,” she answered, not wanting to go into her problems. “How about you?”

Peter zipped up his fleece pullover and stretched out his legs. The wooden Adirondack chair suited him. “Could be worse, I suppose.”

She turned to face him. “What does that mean?”

Peter gave her a wry grin. “I’m telling myself it’s not the end of the world. I mean, I’m healthy and Will is-well, a teenage boy. It’s just that business has been awful lately, Liza. I know everyone is hurting these days, but I’m really limping along. Any cash reserves I had tucked away were eaten up by the divorce. I’m more or less winging it,” he admitted. “I really do need the money from this house. I hope that real estate lady was telling the truth.”

Liza had known her brother was eager to receive his share of the profits from the sale of the inn, but she hadn’t realized money was so tight for him right now. And he had a kid to worry about, too.

“I don’t think Fran Tulley was exaggerating,” she said carefully. “People around here are pretty excited about the changes on the island. Though there’s definitely a faction who don’t want the changes,” she added, thinking of Daniel.

Peter shrugged. “There will always be people like that, but they usually don’t win.”

“No, they don’t,” Liza agreed. Though she secretly thought that in some cases it would be better if the naysayers did win out and progress wasn’t so inevitable.

“How soon can she bring buyers around?”

“Fran’s coming by in a little while with a contract for us to sign,” Liza told him, “an agreement with her agency for the right to sell the property. We can ask her then.”

“Okay, I will. Good work setting all this up, Liza,” he added. “I know I haven’t been any help so far.”

No, you haven’t, Liza nearly answered. And I definitely have more important things going on than dealing with this old place.

But she didn’t want to snipe at him. The delay in his arrival hadn’t been his fault. Now that he was here, she knew he would pull his share of the weight. Maybe even Will would help.

“So, was it hard to get Will to come? How did you persuade him to give up the camping trip?”

Peter gave her an embarrassed look. “I had to bribe him.”

“You bribed him? How?”

Peter shrugged. “He wants a new phone. An iPhone or something like that. It does everything but floss your teeth. I told him I’d get it for him, but he had to chip in part of the money,” Peter hurried to add. “I know it’s wrong to pay him off like that with material gifts, but I didn’t know what else to do… You think I’m an awful father now, don’t you?”

Liza shook her head. “Of course not. I think you’re just caught in a tough situation. I’m not judging you, Peter. I don’t have any children. What do I know?”

He didn’t answer, just gazed out at the ocean beyond the open land across the road. “It’s been difficult since the divorce. I hardly ever get to see him anymore. One night a week and alternate weekends. It’s not enough time. He just starts letting down his guard and warming up to me, and it’s time to go. We used to have a good relationship. Now everything I do is wrong. Or stupid. Or embarrassing.”

“Isn’t that pretty much expected for kids his age? Teenage angst and all that?”

Peter turned to her. “It’s more than that. The problem is… well, it’s really Gail,” he said, finally mentioning his ex-wife. “She’s brain-washed Will against me. I don’t know who he thinks I am anymore. I’ve gone back to court for shared custody,” he added. “I want Will to live with me half of the time so we won’t have this threadbare, fractured relationship. He’s going into high school next fall. Four short years and he’ll be on his own. This is my last chance to be a real father to him, you know?”

“What are your chances to win shared custody?” Liza asked.

“Pretty good,” he said hopefully. “Fathers have more rights in court these days. But Will has a lot of say in the situation now. He isn’t a baby. So far… well, he just shrugs when I ask how he feels about living with me half of the time. Either he hasn’t made up his mind, or he’s afraid to give me the bad news.”

Liza reached out and touched his arm. “When will the court decide?”

“There’s a hearing in a few weeks, but I’m not even sure I’m going to keep pushing for it. Will seems so distant from me. I’m surprised he agreed to come here,” he added in a quieter tone. “Even with the new phone thrown into the deal.”

“Maybe that’s a good sign.”

Peter shrugged again. “Well, he did seem excited about the beach.”

“And you’ll be able to spend time with him here without Gail interfering,” Liza pointed out.

“True. I guess I have to look at it more positively.” Peter glanced at her. “Who knows? Maybe it will turn out to be a good thing that I had to drag him out here.”

“I hope so,” she said sincerely. “Besides, I’m looking forward to getting to know him again, too.”

Peter got to his feet and gazed out at the surf breaking along the shore. “I haven’t seen an ocean in ages. What a sight.” He walked over to the porch rail. “I want to take some pictures of this place. The whole island, I mean, not just the inn. I wanted to show Will some photos before we left, and I couldn’t find any. I guess I wasn’t really into photography until we were older and I’d stopped coming out here so much.”

“I think so,” Liza agreed. “There’s no lack of photos in that house, though. I feel as if I’m a curator in a photo archive. I’ve been going through boxes and boxes of them. It’s sort of sad,” she added, “seeing Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Clive the way they looked when they just moved out here, younger than we are now.”

“I guess they were. Though when we were kids, we thought they were old,” he added with a laugh. “We had a lot of great times out here with them. They were so much fun to be around. Much more fun than Mom and Dad,” he added.

“We had a lot more freedom out here. But they were strict, too,” she reminded him. “Uncle Clive made you work with him in the garden, mow the lawns, and take care of the animals every day. Remember? They didn’t just let us laze around.”

“And listen to our iPods,” he added. “Or whatever distractions we had back then. I do remember. But for some reason, we loved it. I would love to show Will Clive’s old workshop. Is the shed still there?”

“Barely. One good wind will knock it over,” Liza predicted. “I bet Uncle Clive’s tools are all still there on his bench.”

“Maybe I’ll take a few back to Tucson with me as a remembrance,” he added.

“I was thinking of taking some things, too. Some furniture. Aunt Elizabeth still had the piano,” Liza added.

“I’m not surprised,” Peter said quietly. “Would you really spend the money to move it to Boston? It’s probably not worth the bother. And you don’t even play.”

“I know… but I think I’ll take it anyway.”

The piano was in bad shape. A few keys needed repair, and it had never really kept in tune in the damp, salty air. But Liza couldn’t imagine leaving it here. That would be deserting an old friend.

“Well, we could have some sort of big tag sale,” Peter suggested.

A tag sale? The thought of organizing all the odds and ends they didn’t want into a tag sale was daunting. “I’m not sure there’s enough worth selling to bother,” Liza said.

“Of course, there’s enough stuff. Are you kidding? There are some real antiques in there, quality furniture. And people will buy anything, Liza. You have no idea. Besides, there are companies who do all the work for you. They just take a percentage of the sale.”

Liza thought it would still take time and care, even if a company was called in. Time that she desperately didn’t have right now. If it were up to her, she would find a worthy cause with a pick-up service that would come haul everything away. But Liza didn’t feel like arguing the fine points with Peter right now. He had practically just gotten here.

“I’ll ask Fran Tulley about it. She would know,” Liza said evenly.

She leaned on the porch rail and pushed her long hair to one side. Her ponytail had come undone sometime during the workday, and she hadn’t bothered to find another hair tie.

Out in the driveway, Daniel was packing up his truck. He slammed the tailgate closed and waved to her. She waved back.

“Who’s that?” Peter asked.

“The handyman, Daniel Merritt. He’s going to paint the house. He just started today with the power washing.”

Daniel turned the truck in the driveway, then drove past them on the way out. He slowed for a minute and met her gaze but didn’t wave again.

“I’ll introduce you tomorrow.” Liza checked her watch. “It’s not that late. We can do a little more work around here before dinner. Unless you’re too tired from the flight.”

“I’m all right. That’s what I’m here for. Lead the way. I’d like to see the photos,” Peter added. “You didn’t throw them out, did you?”

“Of course not.” Liza had been tempted to toss some of them. There were pictures of people she didn’t recognize, relatives of Uncle Clive’s, perhaps, or friends and neighbors. But Claire had encouraged her to save all the photos.

“I’ve got an idea.” Liza slapped her brother on the shoulder. “I’m putting you in charge of the photo archives. You’re certainly qualified for the job. Claire thinks the historical society in Cape Light might be interested in some of the older shots. We could get our names on a little plaque.”

“I’d love my name on a little plaque,” Peter replied. “A person has to have goals.”

“Definitely,” she agreed with a laugh.

It was good to have her brother here. She had, she realized, just plain missed him. With everyone gone now, their parents and Elizabeth and Clive, Peter was all the family she had left, him and Will. She hoped this visit would bring them all closer. That’s what Aunt Elizabeth would have wanted. Liza knew that in her heart.

FIFTEEN minutes later, as Liza was showing Peter the boxes of photos, she heard a car on the road. She peered out the front window and recognized Fran Tulley’s blue Camry. “It’s the real estate agent,” she said to Peter. She glanced at her watch. “Right on time.”

Fran came to the door, and Liza introduced everyone, then led the way into the house.

“Someone’s been busy around here,” Fran said, as she gazed around the front parlor. “The room looks twice the size already.”

“It will look even better when we move some of the furniture out,” Peter said.

“Absolutely,” Fran agreed. “You can store it in that shed or sell it. There’s an antique store in Cape Light called the Bramble. Maybe they would buy it from you.”

Fran took a glossy folder that read “Bowman Realty” on it from her bag. “Here’s the contract,” she continued, “a copy for each of you. I worked with our broker, Betty Bowman, on the asking price. Certainly, the final number is up to you. We’ve checked recent sales on the island and added in the bump in value due to the coming improvements. We also considered the condition of the place and the fact that you want a quick sale.”

“Of course,” Liza said. Peter just studied the copy of the contract that Fran handed him. Liza’s eyes went straight to the listing price on the bottom of the front page.

Fran waited a moment, giving them a chance to consider it.

“That’s the asking price. I expect you would actually sell at about ten thousand under.”

Liza scanned the contract. Of course, they also had to deduct the brokerage fee, but the bottom line would be a very decent profit, even split two ways. Liza hadn’t realized the inn was worth so much, especially in its run-down condition.

Her brother, however, didn’t seem as pleased. “I honestly expected it to be higher.”

Fran didn’t seem taken aback. She probably dealt with this reaction all the time, Liza realized.

“We do think it’s market value. Certainly within range,” she explained. “We could push it up another ten thousand or so, but I wouldn’t go any higher than that if you want to sell quickly.”

Peter didn’t seem entirely happy with that reply, but he said, “All right. Let’s try it. If anyone wants to make an offer, please let them know there’s very little room for negotiation.”

Fran nodded. “That sounds reasonable. I’ll make that change on the contract, and we can all initial it.”

The document wasn’t long or complicated. Liza and Peter were able to read it through and sign on the spot.

“So, when will you start showing it?” Peter asked. “Do you have any clients who might be interested?”

“I do. I’ve already let them know that something in their price range was coming up,” Fran replied with a small, tantalizing smile. “As soon as I get back to the office, I’ll start lining up appointments.”

“We’re having it painted. Like you suggested. But we just had the power washing done today, and I guess it looks even worse with all the paint blown off,” Liza said.

Fran stood up and grabbed her jacket from a nearby chair. “Don’t worry, people can deal with that. Though the building will make a stronger impression once the painting is done,” she added, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got to run. Nice meeting you, Peter. I’ll call tomorrow and let you know if I’m bringing anyone over.”

“So, what do you think?” Liza asked her brother once Fran was gone.

“She seems all right-competent, experienced. I’m not so sure about that price. Didn’t you think it would be higher?”

“Honestly? No,” Liza replied. “I mean, look at this place. We don’t want to sit here, waiting forever for a buyer,” she reminded him. “It’s better to put it out a little lower than market value if you ask me. Who knows, we might even have some sort of auction if a lot of people get interested at once.”

“There’s an idea.” He started toward the staircase. “We can suggest that to Fran tomorrow.”

While Peter went up to his room to unpack, Liza returned to the dining room, where Claire continued to work in her quiet, steady way. She was wiping out the now-empty china cabinet with a soft cloth and lemon-scented furniture oil.

Over the past two days Liza had noticed that when Claire worked at any task, no matter how small or menial, she seemed calm and unhurried yet totally focused-giving it her entire attention, as if it were the most important job in the world. It was like watching the ocean waves wash in and out, Liza thought. Like watching a steady, reliable force of nature.

Liza went back to examining the pieces of china and placing them on different sections of the table. She would never have that sort of calm, unhurried air, she decided. You had to be born like that.

Will had gone upstairs right after his late lunch. He said he wanted to take a nap, Claire reported.

Or just be alone, away from the adults, Liza suspected.

When dinnertime rolled around, Peter was the first to come downstairs to the kitchen. “Will isn’t hungry. Maybe he’s still full from his late lunch.”

“He did seem to enjoy his food,” Claire said. “I’ll save him a plate. He might be hungry later.”

Liza didn’t doubt it. Teenage boys were notorious for their appetites. But she also knew Will could have come downstairs just to say hello or get a glass of water. Maybe he was planning on hibernating, plugged into his iPod, for the entire trip?

“He likes to stay up late at night now and sleep late in the morning,” Peter explained. “It’s just his biological clock. If you hear someone roaming around later, don’t be alarmed. The house isn’t haunted.”

“I like to stay up late myself,” Liza said. “And I’m not afraid of ghosts either.”

Her own late hours were not due to her biological clock but because she worried a lot lately. Though since coming to the inn, she had slept surprisingly well. All the physical work and ocean air, she suspected. Maybe it would be the same for Will.

Claire served the meal, a roast chicken dusted with herbs, string beans, and mashed potatoes. Liza suddenly noticed that there were only three places set on the table, just enough for herself, Peter, and Will.

She looked up just as Claire took off her apron and hung it on a hook behind the door, then reached for her tote bag and jacket that were hanging there. “I hope you enjoy your dinner. Dessert’s in the refrigerator when you’re ready. I’ll be going now. I need to leave for home a little early this evening.”

“Sure,” Liza said. “No problem.”

“See you tomorrow, Claire. And thanks for all your help today with Will,” Peter added.

“Don’t mention it. Enjoy your evening. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.” Then she said good night and headed out the back door.

Liza wondered what was calling Claire home early tonight. Again, she wondered where Claire actually lived. Liza had asked her while they were working on the closets the other day. Claire had been vague, saying only, “On the other side of the island.”

Liza hadn’t prodded further, and Claire had not volunteered any additional information. Was there someone waiting there for Claire tonight? Liza knew from her aunt that Claire wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean she was alone. Or maybe the housekeeper had simply been staying later than she usually did in order to keep Liza company?

“So what do you think of Claire North?” she asked her brother between bites of the perfectly roasted chicken.

“Well, I can see what you mean about her being sort of a cipher. She is very… unobtrusive.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Liza agreed.

“She doesn’t bother me. I like her-what I’ve seen so far.”

“I like her, too. More than I thought at first,” Liza admitted. “She’s been a great help. Not just with the work, but she’s so calm and steady. So positive. She never seems stressed or overwhelmed. It calms me down, too.”

“That’s good. Then… what’s the problem?”

Liza smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. There isn’t one, really. She’s just different than other people. She has this way of almost knowing what you’re thinking or about to say. Sometimes it seems as if she’s actually reading my mind.”

Peter laughed and helped himself to another scoop of mashed potatoes. He had always been lean as a kid and could still eat whatever he wanted, she noticed. It was totally annoying.

“Reading your mind, huh? I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, Liza, but maybe we should find someone for you to talk to about this.”

He was making fun of her. She made a face at him. “Laugh if you like. Let’s see what you say when it happens to you. It’s probably very boring for her to be reading my mind, now that you mention it. She might as well be watching the Worry Channel.”

She tried to make a joke about her situation, everything piling up on her at once-selling this house, her problems at work, and her divorce being finalized all at the same time.

Peter decided to ask about the last item on her list.

“So, what’s going on with your divorce? Is it official yet?” he asked in a more serious tone.

“I got the final decree in the mail just two weeks ago. So did Jeff. But for some odd reason, he hasn’t stopped calling me.”

Peter didn’t seem surprised. “Maybe now that it’s really over, he’s having second thoughts.”

“I can’t see why. He was the one who-” It was still hard for her to say the words cheated on me. Or even had an affair.

“He was the one who claimed to be unhappy and wanted out of the marriage,” she said finally.

Peter gave her a thoughtful look. “Maybe he just wanted your attention? And now he knows he went about getting it the wrong way?”

“Definitely the wrong way. If that man’s brain was put inside a bird, the bird would fly right into a wall.”

Peter gave her a reluctant grin. “You’ve got a point there. But sounds to me like he hasn’t moved on.”

She winced. That was the last thing she wanted to hear.

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s too late for second thoughts,” she said. The angry tone of her voice surprised her. “Jeff can’t have things his way all the time. I’m not some… pull toy he can just yank around on a string.”

“Of course not. I didn’t mean that at all.” Peter rested his hand on hers, slowing her down. “I know you’re angry at him for what he did, Liza. It wasn’t right and makes me angry, too, when I see how he hurt you,” he added, sounding every inch her older brother. “But maybe he realizes now he made a mistake.”

“He did make a mistake. A whopper. What am I supposed to do about that now? The marriage is over. I have the documents to prove it.”

“Officially,” Peter clarified. “But it sounds like you still have some unfinished emotional business. Don’t be so quick to pull the trigger. I can see how it’s easy to call it quits when you’re angry, but that might not always be the right choice. Once you cool down and get things in perspective, you might see that the marriage doesn’t have to end.”

Liza sighed. In the rare moments she could forget her anger and hurt feelings, she wondered the same thing. Had she made a mistake insisting that they break up? Jeff had claimed that he was sorry countless times.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get things in perspective about the way he betrayed me, Peter. I’m not sure I ever can,” she said honestly. “So far, I haven’t been able to move past my anger.”

“You will someday. Gail and I still seem to have a lot to argue about,” he admitted. “But I think I’m on my way to forgiving her and getting on with my life, seeing the positive side of our relationship as well as the negative. Sometimes I wish I had gotten to this point sooner. It might have saved Will a lot of pain if we could have managed to work things out.”

Liza didn’t doubt that. But Peter’s experience was very different from hers. And he had a kid.

If she and Jeff had started a family when Jeff wanted to, maybe she would have stayed with him despite his infidelity. Or if they’d had a child as he had wanted, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated on her.

It was impossible to say, but she couldn’t help wondering.

They finished their dinner and cleared the table together. Liza wrapped the leftovers from dinner and left them in clear view on the top shelf of the fridge. “Tell Will there’s some food left for him if he gets hungry later,” she said.

“I suppose,” Peter agreed. “But he shouldn’t act so spoiled. He should come down and eat with everyone else.”

“It’s been a long day and a big time change. That’s probably screwed him up a bit,” she offered.

“He’s just brooding. I hope he snaps out of it.”

“Me, too.”

They had a lot of work to do together the next few days, but Liza was hoping there was some way she could have fun with Will. She saw so little of him and didn’t want their visit to feel like a punishment or complete drudgery.

“Well, I’m beat. Guess I’ll go up,” she told her brother.

“Sure, you get some rest. My body thinks it’s two hours earlier. I’m going to check out those old photos for a while.”

They said good night, and Peter headed for the front parlor. Liza headed upstairs to her room. She checked her BlackBerry one last time before she got into bed. Thankfully, there were no messages from the office. But there was another call from Jeff.

She stood by the window, listening to the message. “Hi, Liza. Me again. Hope you’re okay out there. I just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you. Let me know if I can help. I really mean that. I’m still here for you. Please remember that.”

Liza sighed and put the phone aside. Jeff ’s soft, deep voice still tugged at her, she had to admit. Maybe Peter was right.

Maybe she had pulled the trigger too quickly. Was there still a chance for them? Was that what Jeff wanted?

Liza didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

She just wanted… peace. A peaceful heart. She wanted to be tranquil and accepting of her life. The way Claire North seemed to be.

She stared out the window at the dark night sky. There were hundreds of stars. She had forgotten how it was out here.

If only she could squeeze her eyes shut and make a wish and have everything that troubled her right now resolve in the blink of an eye-the conflict at her job, her defunct marriage, dealing with this old house.

It could never be that easy. That’s why they call it being a grown-up, Liza, she reminded herself. Too bad this place made her wish she was just a little girl again, sitting on the back steps, letting her aunt comb the tangles from her hair.

If only Aunt Elizabeth were here now, to comb the tangles from her life.