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The next morning Maggie lay in bed staring at the ceiling, nestled in the mattress with covers up to her chin. It was peaceful to watch the comforter rise and fall with each long, deep breath, as calm and consistent to her as the ocean waves. But memories of what she’d found the day before sent heaviness through her, overtaking the calm.
Her room looked exactly the same as when she’d left for college. Her mother had changed nothing. Posters of famous rock bands and athletes hung on the walls, drooping a bit in their fight against time and gravity. Novels lined up on bookshelves that flanked the window. Her writing desk housed stacks of diaries and journals from her childhood.
When her mother died, Maggie had returned for the funeral then hightailed it back to Seattle. Sure, she’d seen Josh then, but from afar at the memorial service. She made sure to keep herself from anything that pulled her into the past. Dealing with her father during those few days was bad enough.
She didn’t want to hurt Josh. They’d loved each other once. If she were honest with herself, a part of her still loved him. But they were just kids then. High school teens with stars in their eyes.
Maggie closed her eyes tight, fighting back tears. Her memories with Josh were sweet. Special. But always invaded by her dad spouting how she’d never be good enough for anyone. Certainly not for someone like Josh. He came from a solid family. He had dreams, goals, motivation. She was plain. Simple. What could she possibly have to offer him?
She took a deep breath and let it out. Swiping a tear from her cheek she pushed her father’s words out of her mind. Not everything about living in Silver Bay was awful. She did love this house. And of course, her mother had kept her sane. Tried her best to give her a normal existence.
Could she ever live here again? She’d still have to sell the house. There was no way she could afford it on her own. But could she be happy here? Josh’s face came to mind. Sure, she’d loved him. But they were teenagers then. Was it really love? Neither of them had married. She rolled her eyes. That could mean anything. It certainly didn’t mean he loved her still. Or did he?
She didn’t have the energy to try and answer all the questions that rattled around her head. Part of her wanted to get back to Seattle, but in all honesty, part of her wanted to stay. Maybe not for good, but long enough to get the sale of the house going and also to try and figure out more about those letters she found.
She was torn between the solace of her bed and the desire for coffee, her caffeine addiction won over. After brewing a fresh pot, she poured a cup and headed to the study.
Being in the presence of books gave her heart a sense of balance and peace. They were old friends, always there and never changing. They asked nothing of her, only offering comfort and escape.
Curled up in her mother’s leather reading chair, she watched the small specks of dust that floated aimlessly through the stream of light coming from the window, crossing the room, and illuminating the wood floor. Why did it seem like those dust particles never had a place of origin and never seemed to land anywhere? They tossed about happily, enjoying their suspended existence in the sun. If only she could feel that way.
The window of the study overlooked the back yard. Her mother’s garden was to the left of the back porch. What used to soak the air with the sweet aroma of gardenia, along with crimson, white, and yellow roses the size of a man’s fist now sat lifeless and gray. Slivers of paint that had chipped off the picket fence lay like dandruff in the grass. A large section of grass made up the rest of the yard, also worn from neglect, and just beyond that lay a path that wound through ice plants to a small patch of sand. Her friends used to say it was her own private beach but that was being generous. However, it had been a respite for her from the house when she was young. A place to go and sit. Think. Stare at the water that was really more silver than blue. Hence the name, Silver Bay.
She finished her coffee and took a long, hot shower emerging more warm and awake. She padded down the hall in her bare feet, pulling her damp, dark hair into a ponytail. She stopped in front of her mother’s door and stared. It was open just a crack. She hadn’t gone in there since the night of her father’s funeral. As she pushed the door open and stepped inside, the scent of spice and flowers hung in the air, even still, from her mother’s perfume. She ran her hand across the daisy-printed comforter then sat down on the four-poster bed.
A framed photograph of herself and her mother when Maggie was a little girl sat on the nightstand. Her mom was hugging her from behind, Maggie’s pigtails sprouting out from either side of her head. They were both laughing. The soft tick-tock of the clock mirrored the beat of her heart. Hugging the picture frame to her chest, she wished for her mother’s arms around her once again. Had it really only been a year since her mother died?
The ding of the doorbell drew her away from her thoughts. She set the frame back on the nightstand and took another look around the room before leaving. Afraid that closing the door entirely would mean her mother was really gone for good, she left it cracked.
She checked her face in the front hallway mirror and then opened the front door.
On the front porch was a woman who looked to be about her own age, smiling and holding a loaf of bread in plastic wrap.
“Hi. My name is Kate MacIntire. I moved in next door not too long ago. I wanted to come over and introduce myself.”
Maggie peered out the door and down the road toward the cottage that had been available to rent.
Kate followed Maggie’s gaze and said, “I know the phrase ‘next door’ is a bit of a stretch, but I wanted to come say hello anyway.”
Maggie smiled and reached out to shake Kate’s hand. “I’m Maggie. Please come in.”
The two women stood inside the doorway for a moment.
Kate handed Maggie the loaf of bread. “Here. I baked this for you.”
“Thank you. That’s really nice,” Maggie said as she took the wrapped bread from her. “Would you like to join me for a slice of it? I can’t imagine not having some right now while it’s still warm.”
“That sounds great. I’d like that.”
Maggie led Kate down the hallway to the back of the house and into the kitchen. As she unwrapped the bread, she pointed Kate to the kitchen table and turned to pour them both some coffee. “Please have a seat. How do you like your coffee?”
“Black is fine,” Kate replied.
Maggie sliced off two large pieces of the fresh wheat bread and brought them to the table with the butter dish. The butter melted quickly as the two women spread it. Maggie took a bite. Butter dripped down her chin, but she caught it quickly with her napkin.
“When did you move in?”
“A few months ago.” Kate took another bite and looked around. “This house is beautiful.”
“Thank you. It’s my parents’…was my parents’ house. It’s mine now.”
“Oh.” Kate took a sip of coffee. She shifted in her seat and looked out the window. Her long, dark hair sat high on her head in a ponytail. She had a turned up nose and bright, hazel eyes.
“So, where did you move from?” Maggie asked, happy to change the subject.
“New York,” Kate said. “My parents still live in Boston in the house where I grew up. My brother, David, lives near them and my other brother, Andrew, lives in New York. They think I’m nuts for leaving, but I got… divorced and needed a change.”
Kate took another sip of coffee. “What about you? Have you always lived in Silver Bay?”
“I grew up here. I live in Seattle now, but came back… to settle some things.” Maggie quickly changed the subject. “What made you decide to move all the way here from Boston?”
“My mom always talked about this part of the country and how much she would love to visit. She never did get around to it though. I thought something completely different sounded adventurous, so I chose here.” Kate sipped her coffee. “I’m opening my own design shop called Atmosphere and will have a grand opening soon. I hope you can come.”
“Oh, um. Thank you, but I’m not staying for long. I need to get back to Seattle.”
Maggie’s cell phone rang in the front hallway.
“Excuse me,” she said as she stood to answer the phone. “I left my phone on the hall table.”
“Oh no, please.” Kate stood as well. She followed Maggie out of the kitchen. “You don’t need to leave. You barely had any bread.”
“It’s fine. I have five more loaves at home,” Kate said, laughing.
“Okay. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.” Kate waved as she headed out the front door.
Maggie waved back as she picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Maggie, it’s Doyle. How are you doin’, kid?”
She could see her editor in her mind, running his hand over his bald head then resting it on his belly that pushed against his dress shirt, causing the buttons to work harder in that area.
“I’m hanging in there.”
“Good. We need you back at the magazine here soon. You think you can do that?”
“I…I’m trying.”
“Trying? Does that mean next week or the week after? Any longer and the higher-ups are going to be sore and unhappy.”
“I know. I just have some things I need to work through here.”
He sighed heavily and said, “Okay, here’s the deal. I can get you about a month off, if you do some work from there, but then you need to get back here.”
“Thanks.”’
“And, kid. Hang in there.”
Maggie ended the call and tossed the phone on the hall table. Doyle was tough, but kind. And he was also right. If she didn’t get back to work, she wouldn’t have a job to go back to.
The question was, did she want to go back? She couldn’t stay. Could she? She’d lost both her parents in a short period of time, she had no siblings, and could potentially be adopted.
She sank to the floor in the hallway, leaned her head against the wall and wept.