“Lil, I want this one,” Ava said again. “Let’s go back in.”
Lil followed her back into the cottage. The living room was small and square, roughly the size of the pantry in her father’s house, half the size of the guest bathroom in her fiancé’s oceanfront condo. For a moment she pictured Ed and her father—the pair tended to see eye to eye about most things—standing in the tiny room, incredulous looks on their faces. She shut out the image, walked over to the fireplace and crouched down in front of it.
“See these?” She traced her finger over the bright, blue-glazed tiles that surrounded the hearth. Every fourth tile was a vividly painted scene of activity. Under yellow suns or silver moons, stick-figure girls and boys played ball, fished, flew kites or lay tucked in bed reading a book. “I was ten when I painted these,” she told Lil. “My grandmother had a wood-burning kiln out back, and I molded the clay, painted the tiles, glazed them, the works. That’s pretty much how I got started.”
Lil bent to take a closer look. “Clever girl. They’re lovely. Like little rays of sunshine.”
“See that one with the kite? Ingrid and I got kites for Christmas one year, and our dad took us down to the beach to fly them. The sky was this brilliant blue the way it gets in December after a rain, and our kites were red, and I think Ingrid was wearing yellow shorts. But we were racing and laughing and watching the kites high up in the sky… I was trying to capture that feeling.”
“You did, luv.” Lil glanced at the door. “Well, then, shall we go?”
“This house has all kinds of good memories,” Ava said, reluctant to leave. “When Ingrid and I were little, our grandma would bring us out here and we’d watch the boats down in the harbor and she’d tell us about steamships and Charlie Chaplin and movie stars who came over. Happy memories.”
“Sometimes it would be nice to go back, wouldn’t it?” Lil’s smile was wistful. “I often think that. And then I say to myself, silly old fool, ’course it wasn’t that much better than it is these days. All you do is remember the good and forget the not-so-good.”
“Maybe.”
“’Course you’re young yet. You probably still remember everything like it was yesterday.” She patted Ava’s arm, then delved into her bag again. “Here, have a sweetie. Make you feel better. Good for your throat, too. Helps my voice, I always say.”
Ava took the candy. When she and Rob were married, Lil had sung “Ave Maria” at the wedding. She’d sung again at Rob’s funeral. “I’ll Remember You.” God, she was going to cry. “Lil, please don’t look at me like that, okay? I’m fine, I really am. If I buy this place, I’ll be so busy fixing it up I won’t have time to be sad.”
“Well, if you’ve made up your mind, I don’t suppose there’s much I can say.”
Ava smiled. “Exactly.”
“On the bright side, though, I looked up your horoscope this morning. I like to do that before I show a house. You’d be surprised how many times it’s steered me into a new direction. Like the time I was showing a gentleman this property up on Chimes Hill Road and his horoscope said, “‘Not a good day for scaling new heights.’ Well, if that isn’t telling you something. I immediately rescheduled for the next day.”
“You sold it?”
“I did. You know what his horoscope said the day we closed escrow? ‘A new start will prove beneficial.’ Listen, love, I just know things are going to start looking up for you. I feel it right here.” She tapped her chest. “The sun’s going to come out again, you’ll see.”
I’d settle for feeling normal again, Ava thought.
“Let me go in and do a bit of exploring,” Lil said when they were back at the real-estate office. “Place has been rented for so long I’m not sure who owns it anymore. I’ll find out though, luv, and give you a ring this afternoon.”
CHAPTER TWO
SCOTT STOOD IN THE cereal aisle at Von’s trying to remember whether Ellie ate Cheerios or Rice Krispies. He picked up the Cheerios, dropped the carton in the basket and then, in a fit of indecision, set it back on the shelf. Maybe she didn’t even eat cereal. Why, he asked himself, hadn’t he paid more attention? His ex-wife’s voice supplied the answer. Because you don’t pay attention, period, Scott. You’ve never been there for me, and you haven’t been there for Ellie for God knows how long.
He dumped both the Cheerios and the Rice Krispies into the basket and moved on down the aisle. Things were about to change. Ellie’s two-week visit wouldn’t be long enough to completely mend the rift in their relationship, but it was a start. He’d spent the morning cleaning and vacuuming his apartment, bought new sheets and a set of dishes and made a list of all the things they would do while she was on Catalina—a glass-bottom-boat ride, snorkeling, horseback riding in the interior. It was going to be a good visit.
His cell phone rang as he wheeled his basket to the cash register. Laura. His ex-wife had called every day since he’d arrived on the island. Some days she called twice. Usually—within earshot of Ellie, he was certain—she’d start with a list of his various transgressions and shortcomings and then she’d put Ellie on the phone. By that time, not surprisingly, his daughter was hostile and surly.
“Ellie, I know you want to go to Spain,” he said now. They’d had this conversation before. “But I don’t have the money to send you. I didn’t go to Europe until I’d graduated from college.”
“You could afford it if you still worked at the Times.” Ellie’s voice was full of indignation. “You didn’t have to quit.”
Phone shoved between his head and shoulder, Scott unloaded the basket.
“It’s not my fault you wanted to go live on some stupid island,” Ellie continued.
“You’re going to love it here, El.” Scott tried to divert her. “It’s really beautiful. We’ll go swimming, snorkeling. I’ve already bought you a bike.”
“I might not come.”
His hand froze around a can of green beans. “What do you mean? It’s all set up.”
“Mom wants me to go to Cleveland with her to see Grandma.”
He took a breath. “Is that what you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Mom gets kind of lonely. I feel bad for her.”
He finished unloading the groceries, pulled out his bill-fold and waited for the cashier to ring up the total. He recognized Laura’s tactic, but he had little taste for making Ellie a pawn in her parents’ game. Better just to back off.
“Fifty-two fifty,” the cashier said.
He fished out a twenty and a ten, then realized that was all the cash he had. As he wrote out a check, he tried to remember exactly how much he had left in his checking account. The shopping expedition in preparation for Ellie’s visit had pretty much blown his monthly budget.
“Listen, Ellie,” he told his daughter, “I’m going to be disappointed if you don’t come, but I’ll leave it up to you to do what you think is best.”
“Sure, Dad,” she said listlessly. “Whatever.”
After he’d carried the groceries to his apartment, he headed back to the Argonaut and the letter he’d been trying to write to the people of Catalina. His thoughts kept drifting to Ellie and the obscure feeling that by not insisting she come to Catalina, instead of accompanying her mother to Cleveland, he’d somehow let her down.
More trouble still was the vague sense of relief he felt now that the trip was in doubt. While he loved Ellie unreservedly, the fear of not being able to pull things off and failing somehow to make her happy was a weight on his shoulders. He got up from the desk,