The Lighthouse Chapter 29

Chapter TWENTY-NINE:

Robin left the other ladies on Rocky Ridge, where they were going to stay at Alice’s house, though none of them had any clothes. The funeral began at ten a.m. the following morning, and they’d have to be on the ferry by seven-thirty, but they’d wanted to stay.

Robin needed to stop by Kristen’s to make sure she had everything she needed for tomorrow. She’d asked her how things were going, and Kristen had avoided the question, which indicated to Robin that she wasn’t ready. Robin didn’t know what else needed to be done, but she wanted to make sure that all Kristen had to do in the morning was shower, get dressed, and drive to the funeral home.

The ferry ride back to Sanctuary and then Diamond wasn’t nearly as fun by herself, but she’d ridden on so many ferries, Robin thought she could do it in her sleep. By the time she’d returned to the lighthouse, the sun painted the sky pink and gold, with streaks of navy and white in there too.

A sigh moved through Robin’s whole body, because a sunset sky above an ocean was like manna from heaven to her soul. She got out of the car, noting another one in the parking lot she hadn’t seen before.

She glanced to the lighthouse, which had two of the tiny windows along the bottom third of it lit up, and then she faced the path that wound down to Kristen’s cottage. She went that way, her muscles tight and tired. She wouldn’t run tomorrow, and that would be a relief.

She knocked on Kristen’s door and heard multiple voices inside. Her heart skipped over its beat, and someone yanked open the door.

“Clara,” Robin said, plenty of surprise in her voice. She moved instantly to hug the woman who was five or six years younger than her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.” She embraced her tightly, getting the same response from Clara. “Did your family come?”

“Yes,” she said, stepping back and wiping her eyes quickly. “Scott and Lena are up at the lighthouse with Reuben.”

“They’re finishing dinner,” Kristen said, opening the door further. She leaned forward and touched her cheek to Robin’s. “Come in. I’m just pouring the coffee, and the others should be down soon.”

“I don’t think they’re coming, Mom,” Clara said. “I know Lena needs to get to bed.” She looked at Robin. “She has a sinus infection, and the pressure on the airplane really hurt her ears.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Robin said, entering the cottage.

“Well, they should,” Kristen said. “I made my peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies this afternoon.”

Robin’s mouth watered, though she certainly didn’t need the extra calories. But funeral-calories didn’t count, and Robin was going to stick to that.

“You’ll come to the family luncheon tomorrow, won’t you?” Kristen asked, offering Robin the plate of cookies.

“I didn’t know we were invited,” Robin said.

“You are,” Kristen said. “The whole family. Patricia says the ladies at the church have a ton of food.”

“Sure,” Robin said, though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to drag Duke and the girls to a luncheon after the service and the burial at the cemetery. She’d play it by ear, because Duke needed to get back out on the water. At least that was what he’d said. She picked up a cookie and took a bite, her taste buds rejoicing.

She knew she’d interrupted something, as Kristen wouldn’t even look at her. Robin glanced at Clara, who’d picked up a magazine and started leafing through it while she sat at the kitchen table. There was no way she was reading anything on the pages, though, and an extreme sense of discomfort moved through her.

“So what are you guys doing tonight?” Robin asked. “Is there anything last-minute that I can help with?”

“I think we’re ready,” Kristen said.

“You know what?” Clara asked. “Maybe she can be the deciding vote on the eulogy.” She abandoned the magazine and got up from the table, her eyebrows up in a challenge.

“The eulogy?” Robin asked as Clara strode toward the front door. She rummaged through a purse there, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper.

“Yes,” Clara said. “Joel wrote it, and he asked me to deliver it.” She came back through the living room and extended the paper toward Robin.

Robin looked at Kristen, who wore a disgruntled look on her face. “I told you to change it, if you needed to,” she said.

“But you didn’t like the changes.”

“I just don’t think we need to air the family laundry at his funeral.”

Clara shook the paper, which had clearly been crumpled, smoothed out, and balled up again. Robin reached for it slowly, taking the rough paper in a couple of fingers. She looked around at everyone, the tension in the small cottage higher than anything Robin had experienced before, even when Kristen had first blurted that Joel had cheated on her.

That declaration felt like it had happened ages and ages ago, but it was less than two weeks old.

Robin went over to the kitchen table and sat with her back to the rest of the kitchen and most of the living room. She started to read the eulogy, and it started out innocently enough. Joel had listed when he was born, where he’d grown up—and Robin learned he’d been born and raised in Cape Cod—and how he’d come to Five Island Cove.

From there, he’d mentioned the lighthouse, the coaching he’d done, his wife, and kids. Clara had made plenty of notes, crossing some things out and writing in new things she wanted to say.

She’d written no in capital letters in a couple of spots and left nothing to replace what she didn’t want to say. Robin finished the eulogy and started over at the beginning. Her heart thumped in her chest as she read the new parts in where they were supposed to go.

No wonder Kristen didn’t want her daughter to read this at the funeral. Clara had put in some things about how Joel wasn’t perfect, and that he’d single-handedly driven both her and Reuben from the cove with his belittling comments and threats to make sure they didn’t have anything to inherit since the cottage, the lighthouse, and all the land they sat on was one inheritance.

She pushed out her breath and looked up. The wall several feet in front of her didn’t provide the answer, and she stood to face the mother and daughter pair that clearly stood on opposite sides of the aisle.

“I like the things you took out,” Robin said slowly, trying to find the right words to agree with both of them. She felt like she was dealing with an irrational teenager, and one wrong step would land her in hot water.

“I think it’s fine if you want to say he’s not perfect, but I’m not sure it’s…best if you say he drove you from the cove.”

“He did drive us from the cove.” Clara’s dark eyes flashed with dangerous lightning.

“I understand that,” Robin said, refusing to look at Kristen. “But I think everyone at the funeral will already know that. They saw you two leave and not come back. I don’t think it needs to be said quite so blatantly.” She glanced at Kristen, who had started nodding. “Some things are better to let people just assume, and everyone at the funeral tomorrow will already have an opinion of Joel that nothing you say will change anyway.” She swallowed, needing a big glass of water.

“Okay,” Clara said, stepping forward and taking the paper. “That’s actually a really good point.”

Relief filled Robin, and she reached for another cookie. She now knew there would be peanut butter and chocolate chunks at the end of the world, because she’d just survived it, and she definitely needed at least three more of these cookies.

“Thank you for coming to check on me,” Kristen said, stepping into Robin and hugging her.

“Of course,” Robin said. She hugged Clara too, and Robin made her escape with a cookie in each hand.

* * *

Robin started crying before she even left the house. Duke said nothing, because he was used to Robin weeping for reasons she couldn’t name. She’d calmed herself enough to tame the tears by the time they’d arrived at the funeral home.

Eloise pulled in immediately after them, and Robin joined her family with all of the others. She reached for Alice’s hand and squeezed it as they walked inside. The foyer held a podium for people to leave condolences before they moved into the chapel, and Robin let Duke do that so she could glance around at all the details.

Everything seemed to be going well, and by the time everyone had signed the book, Robin’s lungs shuddered as she breathed. She took one of the individual tissue packs from the basket beside the door.

Duke put his hand on her lower back, and Robin’s next step really hit the ground. She sat in the first row behind the roped-off family rows, and slipped her hand into Duke’s as he sat beside her. Alice came down the other side, positioning herself right next to Robin. They all fit on the single row, and Robin hoped they would be a solid foundation of support for Kristen.

She’d wanted to arrive early so she could get this spot, so they had to wait for a while until a man wearing a black suit stepped up to the microphone and said, “Please stand.”

Robin did, taking a moment to find her balance in her heels, and she turned to watch the pallbearers bring in the casket. It was already closed, with a huge splay of red roses at the head of it.

The heat built behind her eyes again, and she didn’t fight it. Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one sniffling and opening her packet of tissues. Joel’s family wasn’t very big, and they filed onto the bench in front of Robin.

Kristen, Clara, Scott, Lena, Reuben, Jean. That was it.

Robin reached forward and squeezed Kristen’s shoulder, and the older woman reached back and patted her hand. After that, Robin settled down, and she only had one moment where she pulled in a breath and held it, and that was when Clara got behind the mic and stood there for what felt like a very long time without saying anything.

She’d eventually been able to begin, and she’d read a kind version of the eulogy Robin had read last night. She stood as the casket left, the family following. She rode in the car with the lights on to the cemetery.

The threat of rain oozed over the island at the cemetery, and Robin liked to think it was heaven weeping over Joel’s death. At the same time, she wasn’t sure he was the type of man that deserved tears from heaven. Her mind went back and forth, and Robin wished she could just turn off her thoughts completely.

“Home?” Duke asked as they all piled back into the car.

“We’re invited to the luncheon,” Robin said. “I’d like to go, but you can drop me off. I’m sure Eloise can take me back to the house.”

“We’ll come,” Duke said, and a rush of affection for the man washed over her. She didn’t normally think morbid thoughts, but she hoped she passed before Duke, because she did not want to live without him.

She walked into the church with blue siding, her family trailing her, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air. The first person she saw was Kristen, and she stood by herself amidst all the activity in the gymnasium. And Robin did not ever want to be in that position. She nodded toward Kristen, and Duke pointed to some seats at a table near the back and on the side.

That was all the conversation they needed, and Robin went to make sure Kristen wasn’t alone on the day she’d buried her husband.