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When Michael and her children had gone away, Nicole had grown incredibly fond of her coffee pot. It bubbled and spat with such friendliness and then kicked out God’s gift to the morning: coffee, which was nearly perfect in every way. Now, as Nicole poured herself her first Sunday-morning brew, she quivered with apprehension. Already, she’d asked Casey for so much in her life. Why would Casey pull through for her now? Why would she uproot her life and help her in Bar Harbor?
When Nicole inspected her call history, she realized that she and Casey hadn’t spoken on the phone in over a week. Casey had texted a few times, just basic things about the weather’s shift toward autumn and a book recommendation. As Nicole had been so busy at the Keating Inn, she’d hardly bothered to text back.
Casey’s phone blared three times before Casey answered. She sounded hesitant and far away.
“Hey there.”
“Hi.” Nicole swallowed too much coffee and nearly choked. She grabbed a box of almond milk and trickled the tiniest bit into the dark liquid. “How are you doing?”
“This is a surprise,” Casey said finally. “Heather said you’ve been so busy. Killing yourself up at the inn.”
“It’s been a whole lot more work than I bargained for,” Nicole admitted. “When Heather was around, it was a bit easier. Not that I blame her for visiting her daughters. After everything she’s been through, she deserves some time away.”
Casey made a strange noise in her throat. “You’re drowning, aren’t you, Nic?”
Nicole’s shoulders slumped forward. The Harvey sisters could read one another’s minds sometimes. “I don’t want to complain. I signed up for this. It’s just that last night, our chef walked out on us, and I have to figure out a way through. We’re fully booked till after Thanksgiving, and I can’t imagine how I’ll get through this.”
There was a soft noise in the background of the call. Nicole craned to hear, but Casey hurriedly placed her hand over the receiver to stop the sound. Nicole’s stomach jumped with apprehension. It wasn’t like the sisters to hide stuff from one another.
“Sorry about that,” Casey said.
“No worries. Is someone there with you? Melody or Donnie?”
“No, unfortunately,” Casey affirmed, remaining cagey about whoever was at her house on a Sunday morning.
“And Grant’s still away?”
“Sure is, as usual,” Casey answered.
Then who was it? Nicole’s stomach curdled with curiosity. A thought struck her: was her sister cheating on Grant with someone? It was only nine in the morning, which meant that if someone had slept over, he probably wouldn’t have left yet. But Casey wasn’t the cheating kind, was she? None of her sisters were.
Still, Casey had expressed her frustration over Grant’s job in the past. He’d only spent one hundred nights at home the previous year and planned on fewer that year. It wasn’t the kind of marriage Nicole would have wanted (not that she could speak on the subject).
“Anyway. You want my help, I guess,” Casey interjected.
Nicole stiffened. “Not for very long. I swear it would just be to pick up the pieces while I figure out how to get through this transition. Uncle Joe just died; we lost our chef; Brittany wants nothing to do with the place, and Heather’s unreliable.”
“And I’m just here. Hanging out,” Casey said.
“No. I never think of you that way,” Nicole blurted, terrified that Casey saw the request as proof of Nicole’s lack of respect, when actually, Nicole had nothing but love and honor for her older sister. She’d worked as an architect for many years.
Again, Casey placed her hand over the receiver. Nicole dropped into silence. Who was Casey speaking with?
Finally, Casey returned. “Are you there?”
“Sure am.”
“Okay. You’re in luck, little sis. I can be there this afternoon. But I won’t stay longer than a week. I have things to attend to here. Book club. My volunteer group.”
“Of course! I won’t take up too much of your time.”
And besides, I’m scared of Bar Harbor,” Casey continued. “Heather dragged out all those ghosts. I’m terrified I’ll find some of my own. Who knows? Maybe Jane isn’t my mother after all. Maybe Adam found me on an abandoned ship. Maybe—”
Nicole rolled her eyes as a smile played out over her lips. Although Casey could be a hothead, her sense of humor was to die for— sometimes.
“Can’t wait,” Nicole told her. “I’ll have dinner waiting.”
**
NICOLE FLEW INTO A flurry after that. She called Luke to ask if he could take over dinner that evening (he agreed, God bless him) and then hustled to the front desk, where she spoke about the day’s goings-on with Jackie. Half-moon shadows lurked beneath Jackie’s eyes as she spoke about one of the upper floor's guest’s refusal to leave on time that morning. “Your Uncle always said I was the most patient of anyone in hospitality,” Jackie said under her breath. “But that man this morning tested my patience!”
Nicole drove to the Bar Harbor Hannaford Supermarket to plan her menu for the evening ahead. Throughout the drive, she fielded multiple calls from both Luke and Jackie, who were captains on what felt like a sinking ship. She pressed the phone against her cheek and waded through the aisles, planning a menu for her and Casey. A baguette; fresh fish; a warm fish soup— check. As she filled her grocery cart with snacks that she knew her sister liked, she began to visualize the week ahead in the Acadia Eatery. Finally, she would have the control she’d always dreamed of. She couldn’t mess it up. Online reviews could make or break your restaurant; she’d seen it happen before during her marketing days.
Casey texted that she’d arrive around four-thirty. Nicole decided to have dinner ready for five-thirty, which would allow them an evening to catch up, drink wine, and discuss the plans ahead. She played old nineties CDs in the kitchen, surprised at Uncle Joe’s old collection. Brittany had probably assembled them back in the old days when she had been a teenager at the Keating House. Alanis Morissette, Oasis, U2, Dido, Sarah McLachlan, the list went on.
As Nicole sliced onions, cut the garlic, and eased herself through the first steps of the evening’s menu, she lost track of time. She sang in the kitchen in the style of a drunk girl at a karaoke bar, using her wine glass as a fake microphone. She’d done karaoke exactly once, years before with Heather and Casey for Heather’s bachelorette weekend. She’d been laughably awful; Casey had asked if she could pay her never to sing in public again.
Now, with the onions sizzling, and the wine sloshing around between her ears, and a hop-skip-jump of her feet, Nicole twirled around, mid-screech, and discovered Casey in the doorway of the kitchen. She wore a funny grin. Her brunette locks cascaded across her shoulders, and a fluffy green scarf wrapped round and round her neck. Nicole stumbled to a halt and returned Casey’s smile, embarrassed. She placed her hand over the boombox to stop the song.
“Well, well,” Casey grinned. “I didn’t know I’d get dinner and a show.”
“I didn’t hear you come in!”
“No wonder. I heard the music from the driveway,” Casey replied.
There was something curious about Casey’s eyes. Something that made Nicole take in only half a breath. Casey unraveled her scarf from around her neck and then stepped off to the right so that Nicole had a full view of the foyer. There, with a backpack across her shoulders, and her hair messy and wild, stood Nicole’s daughter, Abby.
The sight of her felt like a knife through the heart. Nicole placed her wine glass on the counter and hustled toward the doorway between the kitchen and the foyer. Abby. It was really Abby and not an apparition. In many ways, Abby was Nicole’s ghost and Casey had brought her all the way here to Bar Harbor.
But it didn’t make any sense. Nicole hadn’t heard from Abby in months and Abby hadn’t answered a single one of her text messages or phone calls in ages. (Nate still occasionally answered her calls.) She had thought her and her daughter’s relationship was over for good. It was something she allowed herself to weep about only when no one was around to hear her.
Abby placed her backpack on the floor. There was a boundary between them. Nicole sensed that Abby didn’t want her mother to come much closer than this. She was reminded of stumbling into a moose family in the woods. It was best to keep your distance lest they attack.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Abby had taken a job after college in Providence, Rhode Island. Last Nicole had known, Abby was there, in a sublet apartment, making decent money. The job had been a blogger position with a phone app. When Nicole had pressed Abby for details about the company, Abby had blown her off, saying that Nicole couldn’t possibly understand the way the job market was these days.
“It’s good to see you,” Nicole said finally.
Abby shrugged. She gestured toward the bay window and its beautiful view of Frenchman Bay beyond. “It’s pretty here.”
“Pretty” was the understatement of the year. Nicole turned back to find Casey’s eyes. So, Abby had been the voice on the other end of the phone that morning. Abby had been with her. But why had they hidden this from Nicole?
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a guest,” Casey said finally.
“Of course not,” Nicole whispered. She swallowed the lump in her throat and whipped past Casey toward the far cabinet, where she removed two more wine glasses. She filled the three with the open bottle as Casey and Abby gathered in the kitchen. Despite her curiosity, she couldn’t press them for details, not now.
Casey and Abby both accepted their glasses. Nicole lifted hers toward them and said, “Welcome to Bar Harbor.” Again, her voice cracked.
“Happy to be here,” Casey returned brightly, trying to compensate for Abby’s silence.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” Nicole said. “Maybe we could just sit on the porch for a while? Catch up?”
Abby grimaced. She sipped the wine and said, “I want to unpack and I have to make a few calls.”
“Okay. You can stay in your Aunt Heather’s room for now. It’s the first one on the left when you get upstairs. The sheets are clean and there are fresh towels in the bathroom.”
Abby looked as though she wanted to roll her eyes but held herself back. She retreated to the foyer, grabbed her backpack, and headed up the steps. Nicole found Casey’s eyes again as she burned with a mix of curiosity, horror, and unadulterated happiness. This had certainly been a strange weekend.
It wasn’t until after dinner when Abby retreated back to Heather’s room for the night that Nicole felt brave enough to ask Casey what was going on.
“She called me out of the blue about a week ago,” Casey started. “She said she was having a hard time, and she needed a place to stay. And she asked me not to ask any questions. I know you’ve had troubles with Abby over the years. I know your relationship isn’t the best. But I think her reaching out to me— your sister means something. I’m sure she’s too nervous to tell you how much you mean to her. Even though she’s twenty-three, she’s still a kid in so many ways. I mean, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing back then. Still don’t. But I’m trying to give her compassion. I’m trying to give her empathy. I think it’s the only way she can possibly find her way back to you.”
Nicole’s heart shattered. She closed her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“She’s closer to me than she’s been in so long. I guess I have to be grateful,” Nicole finally said.
“It’s the first step,” Casey affirmed. “She’s trying to come home.”