DEDICATION
To my grandparents, my four pillars of strength.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 1
Whispers of fog clung to the pine trees swaying in the morning breeze. The unyielding conifers reminded Elsbeth of soldiers standing in formation, protecting the land beyond the shadows. She rolled her window down and inhaled the fresh, sharp scent into her lungs. She could get used to the unpolluted country air.
“The agent insisted the house is a perfect fixer-upper,” she exclaimed, returning to the property listing on her cell phone. “I’ve been dreaming of it all week. Can you imagine the stories it could tell? I wonder what we might find in the attic. One-hundred-year-old paintings, priceless jewels or children’s toys lost to the ages?”
“You’ve seen one too many Indiana Jones movies,” Zara remarked. “Let’s not romanticize dusty old homes. They’re a ton of work. Besides, you failed to mention it was in the middle of nowhere. How did you find this place? It’s deeper in the Boonies than the Boonies.”
“I must've signed up for a newsletter because I got an email about the house last week. I sent an inquiry, and the agent called me right away.”
Zara's pale blue eyes narrowed. “How long has the house been on the market?”
Elsbeth closed the property app on her phone and glanced out the window. Droplets of sunlight filtered through the thick canopy. It was gorgeous out here. “About eight months. Look, I admit it's not the ideal market out there, but it could be a DIY project.” She grinned at her sister. “One we could do together.”
Zara shook her head, bringing the car to a halt at a stop sign. “I don't know, Elsbeth. Dad's health has been poor lately, and I don't think it's wise to rush into something like this.”
Elsbeth didn’t want to think about her father’s failing health. A hefty project was something Zara and Elsbeth needed to reconnect and keep their minds busy. “If you're worried about money, I've been saving for a deposit. I have about—”
“It's not about the money." Zara released a breath between gritted teeth. "I'll inspect the house with you. But I'm not making any promises, okay?"
Elsbeth nodded, feeling a little deflated. "All right." Her sister’s negative outlook on life often made it difficult to enjoy the little things.
Zara hissed as she veered onto a one-lane dirt road, gravel crunching under her tires. The thicket grew dense, creating shadows across the laneway. "This house better be worth it. This road is going to destroy my tires."
Around a bend, Elsbeth spotted a brick letter box shaded by a mature oak tree. “Look, there’s the house, number twenty-four.”
The red brick Georgian Colonial home that came into view stood proud against the sky, despite its cosmetic flaws: shutters were hanging by their hinges, a window was shattered on the second story, the front porch was blanketed by leaves, and the white columns extending from the main structure cried out for a fresh coat of paint.
Zara parked behind a black sedan. Her mood had not improved, her lips forming a thin line as the real estate agent, who’d been staring at them from the moment she spotted their car, shook her hand.
“I’m Connie Smart. We spoke on the phone.”
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Elsbeth said, her entire body itching to explore. “The photos on the listing don’t do the house justice.”
“The property is gorgeous, but the house needs quite a lot of work. It hasn’t been lived in for ten years. The previous owner passed away, and their family let it fall to ruin. But it’s the perfect fixer-upper,” Connie said as she unlocked the front door.
Zara exchanged glances with Elsbeth and rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the historic architecture.
Once inside, the stale, damp air and the stench of mothballs slapped Elsbeth in the face. The foyer was covered in a thin layer of dirt and grime. A single staircase led to the second story, banking a collection of antique furniture covered in crusty white sheets.
Elsbeth ran her fingers along the mantelpiece, drawing a line in the dust. “Has there been much interest besides us?”
Connie hovered in the archway separating the living and dining rooms. “I’ve had a few phone calls and two inspections. You’re the first I’ve had in a few weeks.”
“The house needs an entire renovation. I’d hate to see the state of the plumbing and the roof,” Zara said from the kitchen. “Are the sellers open to negotiation?”
Connie nodded. “They’re keen to sell the property as quickly as possible.”
Elsbeth met Zara in the kitchen. The marble countertop was in near-new condition, complementing the milky white cabinets beneath the layer of dust. Elsbeth leaned against the island and crossed her arms. “So, what do you think?”
Zara studied the kitchen, taking in the space. “It would’ve been a spectacular home in its prime. I want a building inspection before I decide. It’s going to be a big project, Els. Maybe too much for us to take on.” She ran a hand through her platinum blonde hair. “Do you plan for us to stay here during the renovations? We live two hours away.”
“I haven’t decided yet. I’m willing to drive back and forth on weekends to oversee everything. Once the bathrooms are done, I can tentatively move in.”
“You have more dedication than I do. What do you want to do with the house once it’s completed? Sell it?”
“I was hoping we could move in together. I’m outgrowing my apartment and you can’t live with Mom and Dad forever.”
Zara laughed, tossing her head back. “You’re optimistic. We barely survived our teens living under the same roof. What makes you think we can do it again?”
“We’re grown women now. This house is large enough that we can have our own wing.” She shot Zara a pleading glance. “I admit, renovating a house is a big undertaking, but I’m willing to commit if you are.”
From the archway, Connie cleared her throat. “Elsbeth, I can arrange another inspection for you next week.” She glanced at her watch. “I have another appointment in the city, so I’ll call you on Friday. Is that all right?”
Elsbeth surveyed the grand space, cataloging possible paint colors, carpet samples, and bathroom fittings in her head. The potential was limitless. She was nervous to tell Zara she’d already put in an offer. There was something about the house that called to Elsbeth from the moment she saw the ad. Perhaps it was the history or isolation that appealed to her. Taking risks wasn’t part of her nature, but this house felt like it belonged to her. She could feel it in her bones.
Zara placed her hand on top of Elsbeth’s. “You really love it, don’t you?”
“You know how some things come into your life that are meant to be? The number on the letter box is my birthday. The bathroom walls are painted my favorite color. Everywhere I look I see little nuances of myself. Perhaps it’s a coincidence, or maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there.” Her fingers intertwined with her sister’s. “This house is meant to be ours. We may not last a lifetime here, but I want to give this a chance.” She smiled wide, optimism sparkling in her hazel eyes. “What do you think?”
Zara's gaze flicked between Elsbeth and Connie as she shuffled from one Prada heel to the other. Elsbeth could see the gears turning in her sister's head, most likely listing the pros and cons of buying a run-down property with little return. “Connie, we would love to view the property again. Call Elsbeth on Friday to make the arrangements.” OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 2
Five Years Later
The stubborn dandelion stalk refused to budge no matter how hard Elsbeth tugged. She huffed and grabbed her trowel, cursing the weed for ruining her day. The butter-yellow flowers, shadowed by the canopy of an oak tree, blanketed the corner of the garden. Elsbeth had put off tackling the overgrown patch until the weather warmed. The weeds seemed to have doubled in size since she first noticed them, burying their roots deep in the Texas soil.
"I won't deny you're pretty to look at." She wiped her arm across her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt. “But you make it hard for me to like you.”
A pitcher of iced tea, paired with peanut butter sandwiches, perspired on the patio. She eyed them hungrily and decided to take a quick break. Her pale cotton shirt, wet with patches of sweat, clung to her body. It was going to be another warm day.
While peeling off her gardening gloves, Elsbeth marveled at her beautiful colonial home, adorned with black window shutters, and purple and white pansies overflowing from planters on the porch. The red brick home was historically simple with its sloping, gabled roof and solid chimney.
The extensive and expensive renovations, as Zara had predicted, had impaired Elsbeth’s relationship with her sister far more than she had expected. Elsbeth surrendered her pain and frustration from her sister's leaving to the garden when Zara moved out four years ago.
Vibrant rose bushes bloomed around the perimeter, creating a wall of white and red. A stone water fountain bubbled under the shade of an elm tree. Plump pink azalea bushes grew on either side of the patio, adding symmetry to the house. Even with such beauty around her, it saddened Elsbeth that Zara wasn't here to enjoy it. Living together had proven they had grown too far apart to co-exist under the same roof. They were too different to enjoy what should be a special time in their lives.
Collapsing into a wicker chair on the porch, she poured a glass of iced tea and began demolishing a sandwich when her cell phone pinged on the
side table. It was from her boyfriend, Jeff, whom she was expecting two hours ago.
Jeff: Sorry, babe. Got caught up. Be there soon.
Elsbeth: You were going to help me with the garden. I'm almost done.
Jeff: It slipped my mind. I'll see you soon.
“He's been staying back a lot,” Elsbeth mused, slipping her phone into her pocket. She carried the tray of tea and a half-eaten sandwich inside. The air conditioning was brisk on her exposed skin as she stalked into the kitchen, searching the fridge for a bottle of Chardonnay. “It's the same answer every time.” She pushed aside the lamb roast she had bought for dinner. “What excuse will it be today? I think I've heard them all.”
She loathed the heaviness in her chest when Jeff let her down. Which was more often than she wanted to admit. She often wondered if he were an ordinary-looking man, would he treat her better? His exotic good looks, athletic physique, and charming personality sucked most women into his orbit and inevitably drew her in when they first met.
Elsbeth poured a generous glass of wine and leaned a hip against the counter as she sipped. Toying with the gold chain around her throat, she worried that Jeff stayed with her out of habit. She tried not to think that she was familiar now ... convenient.
The sound of a vehicle veering into the driveway pulled Elsbeth from her thoughts. She finished her wine and wandered down the hall toward the front door. Jeff's large build was silhouetted through the frosted glass. She drew a pacifying breath and welcomed him inside.
“Babe, I'm sorry I’m late. These are for you.” He thrust a bouquet of roses in her face. “Red's your favorite, isn't it?”
“It's white, actually, but these are nice too.” She accepted the bouquet and stepped aside so he could enter the cool foyer. When Jeff moved in to kiss her, Elsbeth tilted her head so his kiss landed on her cheek.
“You're angry at me.” His eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
“It's not the first time you've done this—be late, I mean.”
He wiped a streak of dirt from her cheek. “I got caught up at work,” he retorted, his dark eyes pinned on her.
“On a Sunday?” Her eyebrow raised.
“Something came up that needed my immediate attention.”
Elsbeth bit down the urge to spit out accusations and assumptions. She didn't have the patience, nor wanted to know if Jeff was having an affair ...
again, even though the late nights and weekends in the office were adding to her suspicions. Instead, she bobbed her head and returned to the kitchen.
“Did you achieve everything on your checklist?” Jeff followed closely behind her. “I didn't think it was possible to do it all in one weekend.”
“I wrote that list with two people in mind,” Elsbeth said dryly. “Things get done quicker with a team.” She opened the fridge and poured another glass of wine. “I planted ten rose bushes, trimmed the Boxwood shrubs, mowed the lawn ...” She stopped and arched her eyebrow. “Do you really want to know about my day?”
Jeff drummed his fingers on the kitchen island. “I should've been here, babe. I know it meant a lot to you.” He lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. “But, honestly, I would prefer to be indoors in the air-conditioning than knee-deep in dirt and shit.”
Elsbeth opened her mouth to protest, and Jeff immediately shot up his hand. “But I'm trying very hard to prioritize the important things in my life.” He leaned across the bench and squeezed her hand. “I'm here, aren't I? I drove two hours to be with you.” He pulled a smartphone from his pocket. “The boys invited me for drinks, but I told them I was helping you. Can't you see how hard I'm trying? Don't be angry with me.”
Elsbeth rocked back and forth on her heels, contemplating whether to believe his bullshit this time. Jeff, an investment banker, was a master manipulator, using his charm and charisma to skew his rich and powerful clients. No one dared to question the broad-toothed, olive-skinned man with the five-thousand-dollar suit. It fooled most people, but not her.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Let's go out to dinner tonight. Date like we used to.”
“I don't know, Jeff.” Elsbeth peeled the roses from the brown paper and plopped them into a glass vase. No matter how angry she was, she couldn't justify allowing the flowers to rot. They were too pretty. “I'm tired from being in the sun all day.”
He circled the bench and took her into his arms, pinning her body against his hard frame. The overpowering spicy odor of his designer cologne made Elsbeth nauseous.
“Come on. Let me make it up to you,” he insisted. “There's a new French restaurant in town I wanna try.”
She placed two hands on his chest and pushed. He didn't budge. “All I want is to have a long bath and go to bed. Take the boys from the office.
Have a guys’ night out.”
In truth, after a day of waiting on him, Elsbeth wanted to spend the night alone without distractions. Her irritation waned as she looked up into his dark eyes.
Jeff drew lazy circles on the small of her back. “I want to spend time with you. In fact, I want to talk about our future.”
Elsbeth's interest was immediately piqued, followed by a spark of dread. “What are you talking about?”
Jeff spun her around and playfully smacked her bottom. “Get upstairs and have a shower. Put on that little black number you wore to my office's Christmas party last year.”
“I don't want to go out, Jeff.” She pursed her lips and sighed.
“You can try anything you want on the menu,” he reasoned with her. “I'll let you pick the wine this time.” He glanced at his cell again. “Hurry up. Our reservation is at seven.”
“You've already booked a table?” Elsbeth planted her hands on her hips, disappointed that her night of soaking in the tub had been substituted. “How presumptuous of you.”
“If I'd told you earlier, you still would've said no,” Jeff argued. “You complain I'm absent in your life. I'm trying to change that. Go get ready. I don't want to lose our table.”
Irritated though intrigued by his words, she turned and walked out of the room. Dinner didn’t make up for him blowing her off today, but it was a start.
Elsbeth stepped out of the bathroom, dabbing her hair dry with a towel. She heard Jeff's voice resounding from the kitchen as she made her way to the bedroom. The dress he insisted she wear was laid out for her. She pinched the black silk between her thumb and forefinger. The dress had cost a week's wage, but she felt sexy wearing it. She opened her jewelry box and decided a chunky gold necklace and an onyx ring would pair perfectly with the dress.
As she slipped on the chunky ring, Jeff's smartwatch resting in its cradle caught her eye. He was never without it. Elsbeth hadn’t considered going through her boyfriend's phone before, but his late nights and private calls made her question his fidelity. She was certain he was seeing someone, but she couldn't build the courage to confront him. Now, the perfect opportunity to get closure was literally at arm's reach.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, Elsbeth picked up the watch and scrolled through messages from his colleagues and friends. There was nothing that would suggest he was having an affair. She was about to give up when she came across a message from a woman named Tilly that made her stomach turn.
I had a great time today, baby. I think the entire hotel heard us scream. Same time next week?
A cry escaped Elsbeth's lips, and she folded at the waist, gripping her thighs, inhaling as much air as possible. Jeff had mentioned a woman named Tilly in passing when he explained why his meetings ran late on Wednesday afternoons. Elsbeth had no idea he was staying behind to fuck this girl.
Elsbeth’s mouth dried with a combination of nausea and determination as she scrolled through more explicit messages between Jeff and Tilly, the conversations going back months. The betrayal left a bitter taste in Elsbeth’s mouth. The more she read, the sicker she felt. Jeff had lied to her about working back late or attending urgent client meetings on Sunday afternoon. She wished she’d made more of an effort to be friendly with his co-workers. She could use their insight right about now.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, so she placed the watch back on its cradle and dressed. She ran her hands over her body, deciding whether to wear something else. The garment was spoiled now, a symbol of infidelity.
Elsbeth's lip was coiled with disgust as Jeff entered the bedroom, his gaze lustfully dragging up and down her body.
“You look amazing,” he exclaimed, slapping her on the bottom. “We'll go dancing after dinner. There's a hot little club a few streets from the restaurant.”
Elsbeth feigned a smile and stepped into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. In the mirror, she saw Jeff pick up his smartwatch, his eyebrows cinching together in a second of panic.
“Babe, did my watch receive a text message while I was outside?” he asked. “I don't think it's syncing with my cell.”
Smearing on red lipstick, Elsbeth sneered at her reflection in the mirror. “No, I didn't hear anything.” She zipped up her makeup bag. “Who were you talking to?”
Jeff shrugged into his suit jacket. “It was the office. I must go in early tomorrow morning.”
Elsbeth sucked in a pacifying breath and ran a brush through her auburn hair. Her gut was heavy. Perhaps Jeff planned tonight to come clean about Tilly. Elsbeth wondered if she was strong enough to accept it and move on ... again. She tossed her cell phone and keys into her purse and followed Jeff out of the bedroom.
Thirty minutes later, Elsbeth sat in Jeff's BMW M2 Coupe, squirming in her thigh-high Gucci dress that no longer made her feel desirable. Not to mention, the fabric was sheer and barely there, providing little coverage from the frigid air-conditioning blasting from the vents. She lamented to herself about forgetting to grab her wrap hanging on the back of the chair in the kitchen.
“Quit playing with the hem,” Jeff scolded, taking his eyes off the road. “It won't go any lower.”
“I forget how short it is.”
“It’s the perfect length. You look very sexy.” He reached over and slid his hand between her knees. “The sales assistant said it's one of their bestsellers after some actress wore it on the red carpet.”
Her stomach tumbled, wondering if he had used that hand to caress Tilly. “Perhaps if I was nineteen,” Elsbeth mumbled. Nibbling on her thumbnail, she caught glimpses of the colorful, bustling city. She couldn't stop thinking about Tilly's texts.
Elsbeth stole a glance at Jeff as they drove in silence. His perfectly sculptured profile was cast in orange light as the sun dipped below the horizon. Over the course of their relationship, Elsbeth had accepted and buried any doubts she had over his behavior. His job was tedious and stressful, and there were nights he would come over so drunk he couldn't make it to bed. Another woman's perfume always lingered on his clothes and was dismissed as a co-worker’s. Now, Elsbeth had proof of his infidelity. Would it be an easier pill to swallow if Jeff ended things?
“How much further?” she asked.
“We're here.”
He pulled up outside a restaurant named Balaban. A valet, dressed in a black suit, circled the car, and Jeff handed him the keys. A large glass window—speckled with glowing lights—revealed a beautiful restaurant inside: clean and white, with golden accents on the walls.
Elsbeth followed Jeff through the glass front doors. Balaban was bustling. Servers juggling plates of French cuisine weaved between the
tables, passing out glorious plates of food and opulent drinks. A grand, crystal chandelier hung from a pylon in the middle of the room. The crisp aroma of freshly baked baguettes, exotic seafood boiling in the kitchen, and tangy cheese welcomed the pair.
As she followed the server to their table, Elsbeth wished she wore something a little less revealing. A black cocktail dress this short was hardly appropriate for a fancy restaurant. More than a few people glanced her way. Secretly praying for a dark corner table, she was disappointed when they were seated in the middle of the room. She lowered into the chair as gracefully as possible, keeping her knees together.
Once they were seated, the server handed out menus. “Can I start you off with a wine?”
Your best Pinot Noir,” Jeff said, not giving the drinks menu a second glance. “It’s my girlfriend’s favorite. Price is no factor.”
“Pinot Noir starts at three hundred dollars a bottle, sir.”
“It doesn't matter. I want your best one.”
It seemed like Jeff was anxious to make tonight special. He exuded nervous energy that broke his bravado. He fiddled with the cufflinks on his custom Armani suit and absently checked his platinum Rolex that winked in the soft light. Their relationship had always been a one-way street, and Elsbeth was sick of running in the opposite direction.
“See anything you like?” Jeff asked.
Elsbeth averted her gaze to the menu. “The duck confit looks nice.”
“Have you had it before?”
“This is the first time we've gone to a fancy restaurant, Jeff,” she replied. “In all the years we've been dating, the most lavish place you've taken me is Dune outside the city. Even then, it wasn’t as flashy as this place.”
“I'm hoping to change that.”
The server returned with two wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Noir. He expertly poured the burgundy liquid into the glasses and left the bottle on the table.
Jeff lifted his glass in a toast. “To us, baby. To the ups and downs and what may lay ahead.”
Elsbeth smiled and clinked her glass with his, wondering what he had planned aside from a nice dinner. Seeing the other servers sneaking glances their way was unnerving. Elsbeth and Jeff were the literal center of
attention, and she didn't like it. She gnawed g on her bottom lip until most of her lipstick was gone.
A server appeared at their table, holding a miniature tablet. “How can I help you tonight?”
Elsbeth scanned the menu for something that wouldn’t induce a stomachache later. “Can I please have the duck with the spiced vegetables?”
The young man nodded and slewed his gaze to Jeff. “And for you, sir?”
“Steak tartare.”
“Very good, sir.” The server entered the meals into his device and returned to the kitchen.
It didn’t take long for dinner to arrive at the table, and Elsbeth didn’t wait for Jeff, as she hastily dug into the succulent duck and spiced vegetables, famished from her day in the garden.
While she savored the fatty texture of the duck on her tongue, she noticed Jeff’s meal sat uneaten. He’d gone quiet, glancing at his watch and patting his breast pocket. He did it so often that it started to annoy her.
“Jeff, what's wrong?” she probed. “You need to be somewhere else?”
“Um, what? No, sorry.” He flicked his gaze to the host standing by the kitchen and back to Elsbeth. “I have something to talk to you about.”
As a bottle of vintage Moet was brought to the table, Jeff got out of his chair and knelt beside Elsbeth, capturing her hand with trembling fingers.
“Oh, Jesus,” Elsbeth muttered.
She felt the heat of a thousand eyes on her as she glanced down at Jeff, his face full of fearful optimism. Around her, it appeared as though the entire restaurant had stilled. Even the music had softened.
“Baby, I know I haven't been the best boyfriend. I've forgotten anniversaries and birthdays. I spend too much time at work. But I want to be better for you.” He produced a black velvet box from his inner breast pocket and opened it.
The diamond ring almost blinded Elsbeth. The single princess-cut stone was clear and breathtaking, and the size of a marble. She touched the ring delicately, checking if it was real. Her chest ached, and she realized she'd been holding her breath. When she exhaled, he let out a breath too. A week ago, this would have been the best night of her life. Tonight, it was a poor attempt to cover up his cheating.
“What do you say?” he asked.
She glanced from the ring to his anxious eyes, Tilly's texts echoing in her memory. “No.”
Jeff's eyebrows snapped together. “What?”
Elsbeth gathered her purse from the table and pushed her chair back. Whispers settled upon the restaurant. Jeff was still on one knee, humiliation simmering behind his eyes.
“What do you mean no?” he hissed.
“I know about Tilly.” She glared at him.
Jeff's face drained of color. “She ... she's a nobody, baby. She doesn't mean anything to me.”
“I think earth-shattering sex means something, Jeff. I know about your hotel rendezvous. You lied to me.” The entire restaurant had now stilled, listening. “This isn't going to work. I thought you brought me here to break up with me, and that would’ve been better. You’re not going to stop cheating once we’re married. I’ve tried my hardest to accept you the way you are, but I deserve better.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “I wish you the best in life, Jeff. I really do. I hope Tilly is the one for you.”
Elsbeth hesitated briefly, taking a moment to inhale his homely scent, then left the restaurant without glancing back. Tonight marked the beginning of a fresh start, and she wanted to celebrate. She crossed the street to a diner and ordered a plate of cherry pie with lots of ice cream. As she savored the dessert, Elsbeth knew there would be fallout to face in the morning. Jeff wasn’t a man to take no for an answer ... even if he was humiliated. However, there was plenty of time to worry about the future. For now, there was pie.
She removed her cell from her purse and called Meaghan. Her best friend answered after one ring.
“So, when’s the big day?”
“It's not going to happen.”
“Oh no, what went wrong?”
Elsbeth glanced at her naked ring finger and pictured the princess-cut gem blinking in the fluorescent light. “I said no. He was cheating on me, Meaghan.”
Meaghan gasped. “I’m sorry, babe. You’ve had suspicions for a while.”
“I confronted him about it,” Elsbeth said, pushing the pie remains around her plate. “He didn’t deny it. I can’t be with someone who sneaks
behind my back.”
“Listen, where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?”
Elsbeth glanced around the busy diner. She preferred the ambience here rather than Balaban. People were friendly and laid back, non-judgemental. No one questioned her skimpy little black dress. “I’m at a diner opposite the restaurant. Balaban is a forty-minute drive from your place. I can catch a cab.”
“Nonsense. I’m grabbing my keys now,” Meaghan replied. “I don’t want Jeff to think you’ll come crawling back for a ride home. Stay inside the diner. I’ll be there soon.” Keys jingled down the line. “Let’s have a drink tomorrow night and talk about Jeff. We can try that new club IceCube.”
Elsbeth mused her options. She could stay at home, crying in a bathtub eating ice cream from a tub, or get drunk to forget her ex. “Okay, I’m in.” OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 3
Meaghan tossed back her fourth Margarita that evening. “I can't believe you did it in a full restaurant!” she gushed. “He's an attention-seeking man, but not for that kind of attention!”
Resting her chin in one hand, Elsbeth picked at the wax coating on the worn timber table. She hadn't stopped thinking about him, her guilt consuming every waking moment. The past few weeks had been torturous. She knew this would happen after the adrenaline subsided. She probably made the biggest mistake of her life.
“Have you heard from him?” Meaghan asked, nibbling on the end of her straw.
“I tried calling this morning, but it went straight to voicemail. He doesn't want to talk to me.”
“Maybe it's for the best. Regrettable things are said when you're angry, and Jeff can be cruel when he's upset. He's bitter and humiliated. Give him some space.”
“Tilly wasn't the only reason I rejected his proposal,” Elsbeth admitted, quietly. “It's been a long time since I felt a spark. I owe him some sort of explanation. I thought he was going to break up with me. A proposal was the last thing I expected.” She buried her face in her hands. “Ugh, what was I thinking?”
“Jeff cheated on you! Stop blaming the victim. You've had doubts for months and the text messages confirmed your suspicions. How long has he been sleeping with this chick?”
“I don't want to think about it.”
“Listen, Jeff's a chauvinistic, selfish man who's always valued greed over love. Don't give him a second thought. He has loads of money to keep him warm at night.” She squeezed Elsbeth's hand lovingly. “You're courageous for what you did. It may not seem like it now, but it was the best thing for you. You've dodged a bullet.”
Elsbeth shut her eyes and grimaced at the memory of Jeff's face. The humiliation and anger were ingrained in her brain. “I regret doing it so publicly. I chose the wrong place to tell him how I felt.”
“Enough with the self-pity,” Meaghan ordered. “I'm getting you another drink. You've been nursing that gin and tonic for an hour.” She waved down the barman and ordered another round. Elsbeth. studied her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. She looked like any other woman at the club, with dark hair neatly brushed, dressed to impress in a short blue dress and crimson lips. Her guilt and shame were invisible beneath the facade she had created for tonight’s adventure.
She smacked her lips when the barman placed her drink in front of her and drowned the gin with a groan. She needed something to numb the pain. Elsbeth tolerated the cramped bar and loud music because Meaghan wanted to have a good time. To be a good friend.
“I told you going out would be the best thing for you,” her friend quipped, lazily sipping on her margarita, her glazed eyes half closed. “The drinks are on me tonight. You can stay at my place so you don't have to drive home.”
“How much do you think I'll drink?”
“Enough to blur Jeff's face from your memory.” Meaghan slapped the bar until she caught the attention of the barman. “Keep the alcohol flowing! My friend needs to forget about her man!”
Elsbeth drummed her fingers along the bar. Drunk Meaghan was right. Elsbeth wanted a night where she was emancipated from thoughts of Jeff. She owed herself that. Just then her cell phone vibrated in her purse, and for a fleeting second, she hoped it was him. When she saw Mom on the screen, Elsbeth welcomed the chance to slip away. The crisp night air was a respite from the suffocating heat inside the club.
“Hi, Mom, are you all right?”
“Darling, why would you say that?”
“It's eleven o'clock and you're normally in bed with a half-drunk glass of wine on the nightstand.”
A soft chuckle emanated down the line. “There's no shame in enjoying a cheeky glass of wine while you read a good book,” Carol said. “I've done it for years.”
“I'm not judging.”
A group of women spilled out from the club, laughing and squealing down the street. Elsbeth sunk against the wall of the building, turning her back on the entrance.
“Where are you?” Carol asked.
“I'm having a few drinks with Meaghan. It's an overdue girls’ night out.”
“I'm glad you're spending time with your friend. It's important. Life can be so fleeting these days.”
A bolt of dread rocked through Elsbeth. She gripped the cell phone, recognizing the desiccated tone in her mom's voice. “What's happened? Is Dad okay?”
“Your father is fine, Elsbeth,” she replied. “He's still got some time left in him. Though I have some unfortunate news. Do you remember your great-aunt Lorraine Gillis?”
“Of course. Is she coming over to visit?”
“Honey, I'm afraid she's passed away. I received an email from her solicitor, Ben Harper. About four weeks ago, Lorraine fell during the night and hit her head on the dresser. A concerned friend from the mainland found her the following morning.”
Lorraine Gillis was a distant figure in Elsbeth's life. Any photographs of her were buried deep in old albums, so Elsbeth could only rely on memory. She recalled a woman with cherry-red hair adorned with feathers and jewelry, and a cigarette dangling from wind-chapped lips. Lorraine Gillis had lived in isolation, five miles off the coast of Guernsey, on a remote coastal islet surrounded by choppy waters. She never married or had children.
“I'm sorry about Lorraine.”
Elsbeth’s mother cleared her throat. “Honey, there's something else. Mr. Harper sent over her will. When can you come home? I need to discuss it with you.”
The doors to the club burst open and Meaghan appeared from the darkness, her eyes wide with panic. She found Elsbeth by the wall and breathed an audible sigh of relief. She lit a cigarette from the confines of her purse and smoked as Elsbeth continued her conversation.
“What's in the will?” Elsbeth begged her mother.
“Lorraine's left you something quite substantial.”
Elsbeth's interest immediately spiked, and she squeezed Meaghan's arm excitedly. “Like what? I hardly knew her.”
“She might not have been around much, but she was family, Elsbeth. Come home. Your father and I are expecting you.” With that, Carol hung up.
“What was all that about?” Meaghan questioned, blowing a cloud of smoke into the atmosphere.
Elsbeth stared at her cell, the soft light illuminating the burning cigarette in Meaghan's fingers. “My great-aunt died and left me something in her will.”
“I hope it's a shitload of money,” Meaghan quipped. “You need a vacation. You're never going to move on if you're stuck here. Find your independence. Have fun. Be happy."
Elsbeth looped her arm through Meaghan's and they strolled to the taxi rank, shoulder to shoulder. “It's been years since I saw the woman. I'm dying to know what she left me, but at the same time, I'm scared too. For all I know, it could be her stamp collection.”
“You can sell those too, you know.”
Elsbeth laughed, a good, hearty laugh that reminded her how grateful she was to have a friend like Meaghan. “I can always rely on you to make me laugh,” she said. Elsbeth didn’t have many friends, so she clung to the ones she had—Meaghan was family. She hadn’t even signed the dotted line, but Elsbeth knew leaving Meaghan behind would create a void in her heart that would be impossible to fill.
An oppressive headache pulsed behind Elsbeth's right eye as she drove to her parents’ house the next morning. It was a reminder to never let Meaghan order drinks for her again.
A few minutes later, Elsbeth pulled up beside her mother's Toyota and counted to ten under her breath. She loved her parents but tried to avoid visiting whenever she could. Her relationship with them was seasonal at best. She’d always had a strong bond with her father, so watching his deteriorating health was hard to bear. On the other hand, her relationship with Carol was fickle, and difficult to define. Elsbeth had spent her entire life trying to please her mom, to make her proud, but nothing short of marrying Jeff would bring a smile to her mother's lips.
When Elsbeth entered the house, a blanket of darkness enveloped her. Two figures sat at the dining table, silhouetted in front of the drawn curtains. As she neared, she recognized Carol’s slim, willowy form and her father's diminishing frame, heavy bags shadowing his eyes in the faint light.
“Sleep's for the weak, kiddo,” her dad murmured, reading the concern on her face. He held a spoon in his hand, swirling the soggy, mashed cereal around his bowl.
Elsbeth registered a dullness behind his eyes that wasn’t there before today. The doctors promised her father had years ahead of him. That cancer inside him was slowly burning.
“Why are the curtains drawn? It's a beautiful day outside.” Carol cleared her throat and gathered the breakfast dishes from the table. “Bright light hurts your father's eyes. We eat like this every day.”
“Are you staying away from sweets like the doctor ordered, Daddy?” Elsbeth pulled a chair beside her father and squeezed his arm lovingly. Her breath quietly hitched in her throat when she discovered there wasn't much left to embrace. Her father had lost so much weight.
A faint, playful smirk lingered on her dad's lips. “I like to have a candy bar now and again.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “When your mother isn't looking.”
“I found your stash under the bed,” Carol called from the kitchen. “The doctor said you must stay clear of sugar, Robert. It's not doing you any good.”
The delicate skin around Elsbeth’s dad's mouth pulled downward. Seeing him like this was so unbearable that Elsbeth prayed there was something in Lorraine's will that would negate his fate, even for a second.
“Do you have the will, Mom?” she asked as Carol re-entered the room. Her mother placed a glass of water in front of Elsbeth’s dad and slid a large envelope across the table with the other. “You'll find the instructions in here.” Her eyebrow cocked ever so slightly. “You must've made a lasting impression on her.”
Holding back her enthusiasm, Elsbeth opened the document and read the page Carol had flagged with a colored Post-it note. “I give my estate l’Île Céleste, subject to any mortgages or encumbrances thereon, to my niece Elsbeth Chevaleer. If she does not survive me, I give that property to Carol Anne Chevaleer. I hereby give Zara Chevaleer my stamp collection and three fur coats ...”
“What does it say, honey?” her dad asked.
“Lorraine left me her island property.” Elsbeth scanned the paperwork twice to ensure she was reading it correctly. A woman Elsbeth had barely known had bequeathed an opportunity for her to escape the train wreck that had become her life. “Guernsey's off the coast of Normandy, isn't it?”
A secluded island in a faraway land was the answer she was looking for.
“It's not a very big island,” Carol injected. “More like a spit on the map.”
“Have you been there before?” Elsbeth asked.
“A few times before I met your father.” She glanced adoringly at him. “Three years after we started dating, we vacationed at l'Île Céleste, where he proposed to me under an archway adorned with wisteria. It was very romantic.” A rare smile ghosted her lips. “You should take Jeff to the property. The ocean air would do him some good. He spends too much time inside.”
A lump formed in the base of Elsbeth's throat. “He won't be joining me. We broke up.”
Her father clicked his tongue, while her mother hissed through her teeth. “Oh, Elsbeth! What did you do?”
“Why do you assume it was my fault?” Elsbeth's voice rose an octave. “Jeff cheated on me! He was sleeping with a woman from his office.”
Carol curled her lip. “Did he break up with you, or did you do it?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant. The relationship is over. I just want to move past the pain.” Elsbeth gestured toward the will. “Maybe the island will give me the opportunity.”
“No, I will not allow you to accept this gift.” Her dad's injection silenced both women. Tears pooled in his pale eyes. “I want you to find happiness,” he told his daughter. “To get married and have babies. I don't want you to end up like Lorraine. A dead spinster.”
“Robert, stop being so morbid!” Carol exclaimed, opening the blinds. Beams of sunshine cast across the table. “Lorraine chose a life of celibacy and desolation, cutting herself off from the world. Your daughter just made a bad decision.”
Elsbeth wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders and held his fragile frame against her. He was the only thing keeping her anchored in this life. What was she going to do without him?
“Daddy, I'm happy. Breaking up has offered me a new perspective. I was chained to our relationship for three years, and now I have a chance to experience life. It won't be forever, Daddy. I’ll come back before ...” Her voice trailed off.
Her father squeezed her hand. “I don’t want you to end up like Lorraine, but I don't expect you to stay here if you’re unhappy. You don’t have to remain loyal to me, sweetheart. You're a bird, Elsbeth. Fly away.”
Elsbeth leaned over and kissed his cheek, his skin as cold as marble. “I think it would take more than your approval to convince me to go.”
“Your mom went on a cleaning spree last week and moved the family passports into the kitchen.” He winked. “Why don’t you look for them?”
“Dad, I don’t think ...” Elsbeth blew out a breath and pushed off the couch. She couldn’t argue with a dying man. Columns of sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, bright and buttery. Even in the darkest shadows, there would always be light.
Elsbeth opened the cupboard above the fridge and pushed aside food containers and cookbooks in search of the passports. “Mom, where did you put them?” She found a box buried at the back and pulled it down, locating the passports inside. She flicked through the documents and placed hers separate from the others. It had been years since she had left the country, focusing her time on renovating her house. An opportunity of a lifetime lay beyond the ocean and, for the first time in years, she was optimistic. Elsbeth gathered three mugs from the dishwasher and heated the kettle on the stove, flicking through her passport as the water boiled. She hardly recognized the young woman in the photo, unable to believe her former self would’ve ever predicted how her life would turn out. The kettle whistled and she grabbed it without a glance, cursing when hot water splashed onto her hand.
“Ugh, fuck!” She set the kettle back on the stove.
“You must be careful. You don't want to scald that beautiful skin of yours.” Carol appeared behind Elsbeth, reaching around her to turn on the faucet, then bringing Elsbeth's hands under the running cold water. “I know what it's like to have everything collapse around you,” she said quietly. “It tends to happen at the same time. Fate is clever like that. When your father's diagnosis came, it was like a freight train had hit me. I was powerless. Ashamedly, a little part of me wanted to flee.”
“I don't want to leave him.”
“Who said you were?” Carol mother turned off the water and snapped a tea towel from the kitchen bench.
“I considered moving away after what happened with Jeff. I just wasn't sure where, but everything is making more sense with Lorraine's will,” Elsbeth said, drying her hands. “I don't feel like myself anymore. The universe is screaming at me to take a chance."
“Come with me.” Carol picked up the passports from the counter and escorted Elsbeth to the living room, where she pulled out a photo album
from the hutch. Dad was gone, presumably retreating to his room for his daily nap. “I have something to show you.”
Elsbeth sat in the indentation her father left in the plush cushion and swallowed the lump in her throat. She could already hear his reverberating snores from the bedroom.
Carol opened the photo album across her lap. “I took many photographs when I visited Guernsey with your father. L'Île Céleste is a spectacular piece of land.” She pointed at a Polaroid depicting an array of orange trees. “You would love the garden. Lorraine had a green thumb too. She spent much of her time out there, making it look beautiful.” She flipped the page. “Lorraine never had children. Her plants were family. She nurtured and watched them grow. She was legendary around the mainland.”
“Why's that?” Elsbeth asked.
“She lived like a hippy, growing her own food and wearing feathers in her hair. She was a free spirit, never wanting to be tied down by no one. That kind of lifestyle doesn't go unnoticed, so her death must've come as a shock to the locals.” Carol’s composure altered ever so slightly as renewed sadness welled. “I wish I made more of an effort to visit, especially when you and your sister were born. Summers would've been glorious there.”
“You miss her, Mom. There's no need to feel embarrassed about it.”
“I know. Even though she’s gone, I'm hoping you can connect with Lorraine in a way I never did.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon looking through old photo albums. The coastal islet was a slice of paradise with looming oak trees, swaying grasses, lush vines clinging to tree trunks, and bountiful bird life. Elsbeth grew excited to visit it, keen to adapt to the solitary lifestyle Lorraine had established.
“Is there any livestock on the property?” Elsbeth asked as she poured white wine into two glasses. She imagined it would be hard to find work on Guernsey, so she was eager to get her hands dirty and connect with the island. Maybe make some animal friends.
“There's not anymore. There was a caretaker from the mainland who visited fortnightly. He would transport her goats and chickens back to the mainland to be sold for meat,” Carol explained. “He was an older gentleman who had a little boy. I presumed it was his son. He must be your age now.”
“What's his name? I might be able to reach out when I get there.”
“It was something like Andy or Anthony.” Carol pinched the bridge of her nose, and her eyes squeezed shut. “No! It was Ambrose. I remembered thinking it was an uncommon name.”
“Is anyone looking after the property now?” Elsbeth asked. “Lorraine's been gone for a few weeks. The gardens would need tending.”
“I'm not sure. Lorraine's solicitor in Guernsey will give you the details.” Carol placed her glass on the side table. “Are you sure you're ready for this? It's a dramatic change of life. I understand breaking up with someone makes you question your choices, but Lorraine's estate is isolated, an hour from the mainland. What happens if something goes wrong? They won't be able to get you in time.”
“Mom, there's no need to worry about me. I'll go over and test the waters for a few months. If I don't think it's for me, I'll come home."
Carol curled her arms around Elsbeth's shoulders and held her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. A rare motherly gesture. “No matter what you think, you're still my little girl. Your father thinks the same way. We're not ready for our daughter to go away to a strange country.”
“It's Guernsey, not Beirut.”
“It's just as isolating.” Carol shut the photo album on her lap and added it to the pile, her subtle way of closing the conversation. “If you do decide to go, what will you do with your house? How long are you planning to be there? Zara won't want to take care of it while you’re gone.”
Elsbeth had been so engrossed in planning her trip that she'd momentarily forgotten about the home she’d lovingly restored, a part of her heart that continued to beat. She spent more time in that house than Zara did, so Elsbeth believed it was her right to do what she wanted with it. Her sister was the one who gave up.
“I’ve been thinking of selling the house, long before today.”
“Oh, that’s a huge decision, Elsbeth,” she said. “Your house is beautiful, and it’ll be a wonderful place to raise a family. I think you should keep it.”
“I’m craving change, Mom. A continental shift. I can’t help thinking that the breakup and Lorraine’s will happened for a reason. I’ve been offered my chance.”
“Perhaps sleep on it,” Carol suggested. “Do as you said, test the waters, take it as a vacation, then come back home and decide if you want to stay here or not. You’ve put so much love, tears, and money into your property to just walk away.”
