The Lighthouse Chapter 12

Chapter TWELVE:

How do I tell Kristen?

The question echoed in Robin’s mind for hours after she’d returned home, set up beds for Eloise, Kelli, and Alice, who she’d refused to let go back to the hotel room alone. Alice could put on a brave face, but she should not be alone after what she’d learned tonight. Thankfully, Robin had enough sway to convince Alice to come to her house. Or perhaps Alice hurt more than Robin could comprehend.

Should I tell Kristen?

She turned again, and Duke’s deep, even breathing quieted for a moment. She hadn’t told him anything other than Alice had decided to stay with them. Duke shouldn’t care; they had the space. She didn’t know how to put her thoughts into words, even for him.

Joel Shields was definitely not the man Robin had thought he was. Her mind tried to find new pathways for the man, but they wandered, meandered, went to nowhere. Life was often like that, Robin knew. She hadn’t realized it until about ten years ago, but planning for this and that, expecting life to be linear, didn’t work for most people. It was this linear longing that brought unhappiness, and as soon as Robin let the path go where it needed to go—whether that was up, down, around, or through—she’d been able to let go of some of the things she’d thought she should have and embrace what she already did.

Alaska? ran through her mind now, which made no sense. There wasn’t room for a huge life change in her brain right now, and yet, because humans were so complex and so nuanced and so smart, the idea lingered there, even in her completely overwhelmed state.

Duke had put on a happy face when Robin walked in with all of her friends, and he hadn’t brought up Alaska. Though she’d been tired and stressed, she’d still made love with him, and then the tossing and turning had begun.

She needed to know more about the night that Alice’s mother had died. They did have Seafaring Girls activities on Wednesday nights, but they wouldn’t have had it on a night with a storm. That didn’t make sense, because the ferries shut down and anyone who hadn’t made it home took refuge in the storm shelters that every island had in the town centers.

She tossed again, everything feeling like she needed to scratch it.

“Babe,” Duke murmured. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, reaching over and putting her hand on his bare chest, where his pulse ba-bumped under her palm. He was real, and steady, and Robin needed that solid foundation in her life. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you awake. I’ll go into the office.” She started to get up, but his hand covered hers.

“Stay,” he whispered, lacing his fingers through hers. “Try to go to sleep, babe. I know you were up a lot last night too.”

She never had been able to fool him, and a whisper of a smile touched her mouth. “Will you hold me?”

He rolled onto his side and opened his arms, and Robin slid into them effortlessly. Part of her felt guilty she had Duke to curl up with while Alice’s husband cheated on her in another city. She thought of Eloise and Aaron, who had been flirting mightily in the deli, no matter what Eloise said. Her mind landed on Kelli, who’d come without texting Robin. She’d been nervous and jittery until dinnertime, when she’d finally relaxed into the sweet and thoughtful girl Robin had known growing up.

Finally, she let herself think of Kristen. The mother hen in Robin wanted to bring her to the house too, because she probably shouldn’t be alone in that cottage, with all that paper, either. Cooped up with all those secrets lurking around every corner, beneath every journal cover.

How do I tell her?

The thought revolved in her mind for several minutes, but within the safety of Duke’s arms, the steady thumping of his pulse in her ear, she finally let go of solving everyone’s problems that night.

Duke’s lips touched the back of her neck, and Robin reactively pressed against his kiss. “Mm,” he hummed, his hand sliding across her stomach.

“Duke,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer, because he’d started kissing her neck again. Robin felt like she couldn’t keep up with his sex drive, but she did like that she ignited something in him that hadn’t seemed to have gone out yet.

“Duke,” she tried again. “We didn’t talk about Alaska.” She turned toward him and met his mouth with hers.

“We don’t need to talk about it right now,” he murmured, moving his lips to her ear. “I know you don’t want to go.”

No, she didn’t want to go, but she loved this man with her whole heart and soul, and as he rested his forehead against hers, Robin placed both of her hands on either side of his face. “I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “But Duke, I’m helplessly in love with you, and if you want to go, and think it’s the best thing for our family, I’d go with you.” She kept her eyes closed and breathed with him, both of them letting some silence accompany them. “We’d all go with you.”

“I know,” he said, touching his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. “I know.” He shifted, and Robin rolled over again, nestling back into his chest and letting the man she loved hold her, and hold her tight, until she finally fell asleep.

* * *

The following morning found Robin in the kitchen, beating egg whites to make chocolate chip pancakes. She felt like today was a hinge, with the situation flapping wildly in the wind, able to go in any direction. Would Alice say something to Kristen? She had plenty of confidence, but even Alice had shut down last night after revealing the letter she’d found in Joel’s office.

Robin didn’t know how to wrap her head around the man she knew and this alternate version of him that was emerging from the scraps of his life he’d left behind. She wondered why he hadn’t thrown them all away years ago. When he’d first been diagnosed with cancer. Anytime, really, would’ve been better than after he was gone and couldn’t explain.

A slip of anger moved through her that he’d done this to Kristen. To Alice. To Eloise. Only a coward would leave the evidence of his indiscretions without any explanation for them. Without the chance to grovel for forgiveness. So why should Robin forgive him? He wasn’t even there to defend himself.

The recipe provided the structure Robin needed. An order to things that made sense to accomplish a goal. Her brain buzzed with the next step, and then the next one, and she moved around the kitchen, flipping bacon in one moment and plugging in the griddle in the next. She put the syrup in the microwave and got out plates.

Doing things soothed Robin, calming her mind enough that she could sometimes see through the confusion and misdirection to exactly what she should do next.

“Wow, Mom,” Mandie said, coming into the kitchen. “You’re really going all out today.”

Robin grinned at her oldest. A sense of desperation swept over her, and she abandoned the fruit she’d started to cut up and engulfed her daughter in a hug. “I love you,” she whispered, glad that Mandie wasn’t too old to accept an embrace from her crazy, emotional mother.

“I love you, too, Mom.” Mandie watched her as Robin stepped back and swiped at her eyes. She shook her head as her voice stayed clogged down deep in her chest.

“I’m okay.” Her daughter had seen Robin cry before; this was nothing new. What she didn’t know was how close she was to leaving the house. Robin could suddenly see the next five years, then the next ten. Mandie was smart, and strong, and there wasn’t a man on Earth good enough for her. But she’d graduate, and go to college, get married, have babies.

Robin stepped back to the griddle, smiling through the tears in her eyes, the vision in her mind’s eye glorious and beautiful. She’d raised Mandie to leave the house, go out and make her way in the world, and she wanted that for her so badly.

“Remember, I’m going to Brady’s after school,” Mandie said as Robin poured perfectly level scoops of batter onto the hot surface. “He’s, uh, well, I’m—we’re sort of dating.”

Robin froze, her hand in mid-air as pancake batter dripped onto the griddle. Her eyes locked onto Mandie’s and her heart thumped and pumped and stuttered in her chest. “Sort of dating?” she managed to push out of her throat.

Don’t make a big deal out of this, she told herself sternly. That got her to move again, scooping up another dollop of batter and pouring it into the last space on the griddle.

Mandie looked over her shoulder, her face growing redder by the moment. “I mean, we talked about it yesterday, and he didn’t friend-zone me.”

“Is that what you do now?” Robin asked. “Talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Mandie said. “You know, DTR.”

No, Robin did not know, so she put down the scoop and picked up the spatula, waiting for her daughter to explain further.

“Define the relationship,” Mandie said.

“Ah.” Robin wiggled the tip of the spatula under the first pancake she’d poured, knowing it wasn’t anywhere near ready. She couldn’t help feeling the same way about Mandie and having a boyfriend. She blinked, and life changed again.

Looking up, she smiled at her daughter. “You’ve been friends with Brady for a while.”

“Yeah.” Mandie smiled. “I do really like him, Mom. He’s a nice guy. He’s not a pervert, and he said he’s never kissed a girl.”

“Oh, wow.” Robin giggled with her daughter. “So…does that include you?”

Mandie nodded, her eyes growing serious again. She fiddled with her fingers, the ten of them clam-shelling together and then pulling apart again. Robin hated this nervousness in her daughter, but more relief than she’d ever known accompanied the feeling. Mandie hadn’t lied to her about Brady and “their relationship.” She was talking to her, and as the floorboards above them squeaked, Robin looked up.

“But you want to kiss him, right?” she asked Mandie.

“I mean—yes?”

Robin smiled again and checked the pancakes. Most of them had crisped along the bottom edges, and little bubbles had started to pop on the surface. “Mandie, kissing is pretty fun. And if you like him, and he likes you.” Robin shrugged as she flipped one pancake. “The key is not to get your hopes up too high.” She grinned as Mandie stepped fully into the kitchen, almost like she was now ready to fully engage in the conversation as well.

She opened the microwave and got out the syrup. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Robin said, her voice a bit high. “If he’s never kissed anyone, he might not be very good at it.” She glanced at Mandie. “So don’t be upset if it’s not great—at first. He’ll get better at it.”

Mandie shook her head and smiled. “Okay, Mom.”

Robin flipped all the pancakes and then pointed the spatula at Mandie. “And just kissing, do you hear me?”

Mandie actually looked scared, as if Robin would sneak into her room in the middle of the night and stab her with the spatula. “I’m afraid to even kiss him, Mom. What if that makes everything weird?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know.” Mandie glanced down at the plate she held in anticipation of having a hot pancake.

“Well,” Robin said, very aware that she’d started a lot of sentences that way. “Kissing does change things.”

“See? I should’ve friend-zoned him.”

“No.” Robin slid two pancakes onto Mandie’s plate. “Change isn’t always bad, dear. Some changes are really good.”

Mandie looked at her, her eyes wide and open and so trusting. She wanted to believe Robin so badly, so Robin nodded and removed the rest of the pancakes from the griddle. “Just try it. If it’s too weird, then go for the friend zone, because Brady’s been a good friend.”

Robin pictured the tall, lean boy that had been around the house many times over the past few years. He was a cute kid, with a lot of dark hair. His limbs had grown too long for his body, but he was slowly catching up, and he played for the freshman basketball team now, putting that long reach to good use.

Robin should’ve seen this coming, as Mandie had been going to all the basketball games this past winter and spring.

“Thanks, Mom,” Mandie said at the same time Duke entered the kitchen with the loud, booming word, “Pancakes.” He growled as he wrapped Robin in a hug from behind, the tip of his tongue sliding down the curve of her ear.

She laughed and swatted at him with the spatula. He laughed too, released her, and opened the fridge. “Juice? Milk? Hot chocolate?” He looked at Mandie, who asked for milk.

“These are hot,” Robin said. “Eat up.” She glanced toward the hallway, expecting to see Jamie arrive at any moment. She loved the way she could cook in the morning with the sunshine coming in through the windows lining the back of the house. And with Duke laughing with Mandie about something, and the genuine talk she’d just had with her daughter, Robin wondered if her life had been taken from the pages of a magazine.

Of course, it wouldn’t be one of those pristine ones that Alice surely got delivered to her mansion in the Hamptons. But one labeled Real Life, where all the pictures would feature dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, and damp towels lying in heaps on teenager’s bathroom floors. They’d have a man wearing an undershirt with a pair of gym shorts, though he knew his wife’s friends would be down for breakfast at any moment, and a kitchen table covered with various items that hadn’t found their way to their permanent homes yet.

Sure, the cabinets had been painted a modern white, covering the old oak finish that was so nineties. The back door could be cracked to let in the salty breeze and the call of seabirds as they said good morning to one another. The couch had more pillows on it than anyone needed, and the plants always got watered. Meals got made on stainless steel appliances, and the man and wife both drove a nice car.

But it wasn’t those features of the Real Life house that would be printed. There’d be a feature on how to keep a messy office, and an article on how to deal with grief, and a right column commentary on how to disagree about moving across the globe for a new job only one half of the partnership wanted.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Robin flipped another batch of pancakes as her friends came into the kitchen.

“She really did make them.”

“I told you she would.”

“I could smell them upstairs.”

Robin smiled at her friends and indicated the stack of plates, the butter dish, and the syrup. “Eat. I have a feeling we’re all going to need the sugar and carbs today.” She looked at Duke, who seemed at ease with the additional three women who had invaded his home. “Baby,” she said. “Would you go check on Jamie? She should be out by now.”

“Yep.” He picked up his plate and took it with him as he walked through the kitchen to the hallway.

Robin caught all three of her friends looking at her, but she returned her attention to the griddle. Familiar guilt crowded into her throat, and she worked against it. She shouldn’t feel guilty because she had Duke. That was ridiculous.

“Robin?” His voice came down the hall, tinged with something that made Robin pause and quietly panic.

“Alice, will you take over here?” She handed Alice the spatula as she left, despite Alice’s protests.

“I’ve never made pancakes,” she said dumbly as Robin left the room.

“You’re kidding,” Kelli said. “Oh, my word, Alice. Give that to me. It’s not hard.”

Down the hall and into Jamie’s room, Robin found Duke standing in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” he hissed as Robin pressed in beside him.

Jamie sat on the bed, apparently ready for school. She was dressed, with her backpack hitched over both shoulders.

And crying.

“Sweetie,” Robin said gently, slipping past Duke. “What’s wrong?” Jamie had just turned twelve over Christmas, and she’d become emotional lately, almost like she was reverting to age five, when literally everything had brought the girl to tears.

“Tara’s cat died,” Jamie said, looking at Robin with big, fat tears clinging to her eyelashes.

Robin’s irritation flashed inside her, but she pushed against it. Patience. That was what she needed in this situation. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, thinking it was about time the cat had died. “Wasn’t it blind in both eyes?” She looked at Duke, who still stood in the doorway with his plate of pancakes in his hand.

Their eyes met, and Robin wasn’t sure who laughed first—her or him. No matter what, Jamie didn’t think Robin’s question was funny, and she leapt off the bed. “Mom.”

“What?” Robin asked, still a little giggly. Jamie rolled her eyes and stomped past Duke, who had the good sense to get out of the way. She stepped over to her husband, still grinning, and patted his arm. “You could’ve done that.”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning too. “That was masterful.”

Robin snorted as she started laughing again. They went down the hallway to the kitchen together, and Duke joined the girls at the table, the six of them all eating pancakes and bacon, even Alice.

A sigh filled Robin’s soul, and while she’d never planned for breakfast to go this way this morning, with all the conversations and crying, she was still here, in this moment. And it was beautiful.

“Come eat, babe,” Duke called. “I saved you some bacon from these savages.”

So Robin did just that.

* * *

Later, after Duke had taken the girls to school and then gone to the docks to work on his boat, after Kelli and Eloise had helped Robin clean up breakfast, after Alice had claimed she was going to get some cats of her own, the four of them sat down in the living room with sugared and creamed coffee.

“So,” Eloise said. “What are we going to do?”

Kelli said nothing, and Alice just kept stroking the pure black cat Eloise had brought with her from Boston. Robin looked at Eloise, and the two of them had an entire conversation without vocalizing anything. She couldn’t believe she’d let five long years go by without having these women in her daily life. She loved them so much, and they knew her so well. Knew her in a way no one else did.

“I think,” Eloise said slowly. “We shouldn’t tell Kristen. She’s dealing with enough right now.”

Robin nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. But she wasn’t going to say anything; she and Eloise had just agreed that Eloise would lead this conversation. Heaven knew that Robin led enough of the others.

“Do you know who you are today?” Alice asked softly, still not looking away from the feline.

Eloise shifted on the couch and lifted her own mug to her lips for a drink. She cleared her throat. “Not entirely,” she finally admitted. “But all I can do is take things one day at a time.” She looked at Robin and then Kelli. “Thanks to you guys, I know I can’t make any big decisions while I’m in the middle of the crisis.”

“Smart,” Robin murmured.

“You always were the smartest,” Kelli said, smiling. “I don’t think we should tell Kristen either.”

Alice finally tore her attention from the cat. She met Robin’s eye and lifted her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

“I’m going last,” Robin said. “You’re up.”

Alice sighed, anger flashing in those eyes. Robin had seen Alice angry plenty of times, but a flicker of worry still flamed through her. An angry Alice wasn’t pleasant.

“I think I’m living enough lies,” she said. She pressed her teeth together, making her jawbone stick out on the left side. She needed another plate of pancakes, though Robin knew the carbs would only add the body fat Alice lacked, not soothe the pain.

“And I’m not sure I can go work at that cottage today,” she added.

Oh, did Robin feel that down in her bones, and it had only been a couple of days. She still said nothing, because she didn’t want to dictate what the group did. If Alice couldn’t go, she couldn’t go.

“I can go today,” Kelli said.

“Me too,” Eloise said.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” Robin said. “I can go today too. Maybe you’d like to go to the beach or something, Alice.”

She shook her head, resignation crossing her face. “No, I’ll go today too.” She drew in a deep breath, her chest rising and rising, before she blew the air out slowly. “But if any of us find anything, can we just wait until tomorrow to talk about it?”

“Deal,” Robin said, the others affirming as well. “And I don’t think we should tell Kristen about your mother right now either. There’s a time and place, and perhaps this is neither of those.”

Alice pressed her lips together and nodded. “I’m going to go finish getting ready.” She got up and left the cat on the couch as she walked away.

“Finish getting ready?” Kelli asked after she was out of earshot, also watching Alice as she turned and started up the steps that sat right inside the front door of Robin’s house. “Did you see what she’s wearing? How is she not ready?”

Robin still wore her yoga pants and a T-shirt she gardened in. And while she’d change before they went over to the lighthouse, it wouldn’t be into a designer pair of slacks the color of eggshells or a bright blue, sleeveless blouse that had cost more than her house.

Eloise giggled, which sent Kelli laughing too. “That’s Alice,” Eloise said.

Robin sipped her coffee, smiling on the outside but wondering on the inside. Was it Alice? Perhaps she felt trapped inside the wardrobe she owned, powerless to change it as easily as everyone thought she should be able to.

Robin had been there before, feeling small and insignificant inside a situation that felt so big and wide and all-encompassing. She knew she just needed to work and wait, and things would settle down. They’d shrink back to their real size, and she wouldn’t feel like the sky was about to crack and crash, crushing her and everything she loved.

So she breathed. She changed her clothes. She brushed her teeth and her hair, pulling the latter up into a ponytail. She hugged Alice, and Kelli, and Eloise, and the four of them huddled up together in Robin’s foyer.

“Okay,” she said, taking control again. “We can do this, ladies. We’re strong, and capable, and confident. No matter what happens.”

“No matter what happens,” the others echoed, and together, they left the house for another day of going through a stash of secrets that should’ve been burned a long time ago.