“Daniel, you need to get back to work,” his mother observed one morning a couple of days later. “You’re no good to me here and that phone of yours is buzzing constantly, and frankly it’s getting on my nerves. Between Howard and Jo and Jazz, we have everything under control here, so just go before you lose your livelihood.”
“Like I’ve lost mine” went unsaid.
In spite of the way Ella had attacked the job of sorting through decades of household items and memories, Daniel was not fooled. His mother’s hollow eyes told the real story. She was driving herself too hard, determined to get this over with as soon as possible. Daily she assured him they had made the right decision—the best decision for everyone.
When he and Howard had taken her to the facility in town to register and see her one-room apartment there so she could decide what furnishings to bring along, she had smiled brightly and chirped incessantly about how lovely everything was. And it was nice—for someone else. But for his mother? He suddenly saw her stroke as a conviction and her sentence was to spend the rest of her days surrendering what was left of her independence to the well-meaning but paternalistic care of others.
There had to be another way.
“I can work from here,” he said as his cell vibrated and he held it up as if to prove his point. It was Greg, reporting yet another half-dozen emergencies, most of which he’d been able to handle. But one in particular really needed Daniel’s on-site attention.
“Go,” Ella ordered as soon as he switched off the phone.
“You can be down there this afternoon. And this time stay there until things are settled. Cyrus has already made all the arrangements for Matt and his friends to move my things to the home.”
“It’s not a home,” Daniel protested, but Ella just lifted her good eyebrow. “Okay, but it’s not a nursing home.”
“I’ll grant you that,” she said and reached up to grasp his arm. “Danny, none of this is your fault. God has a plan for all our lives. Apparently this is His plan for me. I don’t know why, but I suspect there’s a good reason behind this move and I intend to open myself to that possibility.”
Daniel stared down at her for a long moment. Jo had said something similar, but Daniel didn’t get why God couldn’t see that Ella belonged here, and let him and Jo build a life together. Wasn’t that just as good as any plan He might have in mind for them?
“Stop questioning God’s will and open your heart to the possibilities,” Ella said as if he’d spoken aloud. “Howard! Daniel needs a ride to the airport.”
Auction day dawned as gray and somber as the mood on the farm. Jo awoke with a start, her mind racing as she tried to fathom what she needed to do. But there was nothing to do. After today she would pack her things and take the ferry home. Hank had called her the night before to report that there was plenty for her to do once she returned. She suspected that he’d deliberately lined up extra work for the sole purpose of taking her mind off the disappointment she’d suffered here at Star Pond.
Outside her window she could hear the preparations for the auction. People were already beginning to arrive in order to have the first chance to preview the house and its contents. The Waldons had suggested selling the house and cottage intact rather than trying to auction the furnishings separately.
“Less morbid than watching the bits and pieces of your life held up for the highest bidder,” Ella had commented.
“You don’t need to watch at all,” Daniel had reminded her.
He had returned the evening before in time for supper. The meal prepared by Jazz had been quiet and uncomfortable, with conversation coming in spurts rather than flowing normally.
“This chowder is as good as any I’ve ever tasted,” Daniel had said and Jo, Howard and Ella had murmured their agreement.
“Is it too late for me to take that mirror?” Ella had asked after moments of silence. “It would fit well by the door of my apartment.”
“I’m sure we can arrange for that,” Jo had assured her.
And so it had gone. They had endured the meal like mourners gathered at a wake. Finally, as if she’d suddenly become aware of the morbid atmosphere, Ella had brightened. “I have an idea. Suppose we play a game of charades for old times’ sake. Remember, Daniel, how your father loved the game?”
“I remember that he was terrible at it,” Daniel had replied, but he’d smiled for the first time all evening.
“How do you play?” Jazz had asked.
Ella had been stunned. “Daniel Armstrong, do you mean to tell me you never taught this child the game?” And without waiting for an answer she had quickly explained the rules.
“Could I call Matt and invite him over?”
“Absolutely, and tell him to bring Cyrus along. We old fogies will show you young pips a thing or two.”
Ella’s high spirits had been contagious, and within the hour the farmhouse had been full of laughter and good-natured joking. For a couple of hours everyone had put all thought of what the next day would bring out of mind.
Jo blinked back tears as she remembered Ella’s peals of laughter as Cyrus Banks had tried to act out the movie title High Noon.
Later, when Daniel had walked her back to the cottage, they’d had the strangest conversation.
“I need to know something,” he’d said. “The night of the storm when I told you I loved you, did you believe me?”
“I didn’t know what to believe,” Jo had admitted. “And then the storm came up so suddenly and was so devastating and…”
“If I told you now, would you believe me?”
“It’s not a matter of belief, Daniel. We’ve been all through this.”
“Do you care for me at all—more than just a friendship? Could you see us together?”
She had thought of little else for weeks now. In New York she had fantasized about them spending their lives together, but she was a practical person. She understood the realities of life all too well. It would never work.
“Daniel, you’ve made a life for yourself in the city. Your work is important to you—the way you’ve taken that hotel and turned it into a success—that’s part of who you are, what you need to be happy. Work that is meaningful and productive. I guess in a way we have that in common. The problem is that our work is so different.”
“Not really. If you think about it, I took an old, run-down hotel from my father-in-law and nurtured it back to life until now it’s starting to produce a profit. How’s that different from what you did here, taking Mom’s bog and bringing it to life?”
“It’s still different—you ‘grow’ a business while I grow a crop. City versus farm.” She had shifted her upturned hands as if balancing a scale.
“Humor me. Pretend for one moment that there were no barriers to our sharing a life.”
“Oh, Daniel, there’s more than our work. There’s Jazz. There’s Gloria. There’s…”
“Jazz adores you, and what has Gloria got to do with any of this?”
“I think she may be regretting letting you go. The way she was at the hospital and when she came here.”
Daniel’s laughter had exploded. “Gloria left for Australia yesterday with her tennis pro. Maybe one day she’ll find some peace and happiness in staying put, but not now and not with me.” He exhaled deeply. “I won’t say our marriage was a mistake. How could I when it produced Jazz? But we were young and impetuous and we each thought we knew best. Both our folks tried to warn us, but I thought her father didn’t think I could ever amount to anything, and she thought my mother was too dependent on me.”
“Ella? Ella is the most independent woman I have ever known,” Jo had protested.
“Exactly. Like I said. We were young and stupid. Fortunately we woke up and realized we could either be miserable together and inflict that misery on Jazz, or we could go our separate ways, maintain a friendship and each be the kind of parent our daughter deserved.”
Jo had been silent for a long moment. Finally, she had said, “Australia?” and giggled. “There’s something about the image of Gloria in the outback that just doesn’t quite compute.”
Daniel had chuckled. “I doubt she’ll get much farther afield than Sydney, but the trip required an entire new wardrobe and Gloria is never happier than when she’s spending money.”
They had gotten off the subject and Jo couldn’t help being relieved. One more minute and she might have flung herself at him and declared her love for him, begged him not to go back to New York, assured him that he could be happy farming the land—this land.
But Daniel wasn’t going to let her off the hook. “I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching these last few weeks, Jo,” he had said. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m asking that you stick around after the auction.”
“Well, I’m not going to just run off without saying goodbye. I want to be sure that Ella’s settled and that…”
“Stop pretending this is about Mom—or Jazz. It’s about us and how we’re going to work out a life together.” He had paused and looked down at her, his eyes suddenly filled with fear. “I mean, you do want a life together, right?”
“Oh, Daniel, we are very, very different people who lead very, very complicated lives and…”
“And,” he had interrupted, “unless I miss my guess, we love each other very, very much.”
“I know, but sometimes…”
“Do not tell me love is not enough. Do you love me?”
“I love you,” she had admitted.
He had kissed her. “Then trust me to make this all work out.”
“Jazz is right about one thing,” Jo had said, still reeling from the kiss and the fact that she had just openly admitted her love for this man and the sky had not fallen. “You can be very bossy.”
Daniel had grinned and given her another kiss. “Yeah, so I’ve been told. Might as well get used to it, lady.” He had kissed her once more and then headed back toward the farmhouse. “Got people to see and calls to make. See you tomorrow,” he had called.
And the day after that and the day after that forever if you still want me, she had thought suddenly. They have flower shops in New York City and public gardens. I can find work there. And in that moment she had understood that whatever it took, she would follow this man to the ends of the earth if he asked her.
By midmorning it was clear that most of those who walked the grounds and wandered in and out of the house were not serious bidders. The farm would go to one of several unknown proxy bidders that Mrs. Waldon would place bids for.
So when the auction began at eleven, people stood around or sat on the few chairs that had been set up in the machine shed to watch the show. Jazz sat with Howard and Ella on the farmhouse porch. They had all tried to get Ella to go to town during the auction, or at least stay inside. But she had insisted on watching and listening, although she had stopped short of actually taking a seat inside the shed.
Jo watched from the back of the audience while Daniel paced the sidelines. Mr. Waldon began the auction by making the announcement that this was virtually a one-item auction—the land, the house, the outbuildings and the contents of all would be offered as one lot. In the event the price did not reach the reserve set by the family, then he would begin the process of breaking up the package, selling off the machinery first, followed by the house contents, the buildings and the land. Jo noticed that with this announcement several people headed over to the cashier to purchase a bidding paddle—just in case.
Satisfied that everyone understood the rules, Mr. Waldon called for the first bid. One paddle went up.
Cyrus?
Seeing that, a local developer raised the bid and the battle was on. Cyrus. Developer. Proxy. Until finally the developer dropped out. The price reached a million dollars and still Cyrus doggedly flashed his paddle, almost before Mrs. Waldon could check her computer and nod to her husband that one or more proxy bidders were still in the running.
As soon as Cyrus had first raised his paddle, Daniel had stopped pacing and stared at the older man. When Cyrus kept bidding, Daniel seemed as concerned as Jo was, so she moved around the gathering to where he stood.
“Do something,” she urged him. “Cyrus is doing this for Ella. He can’t afford what he’s offering—not without selling off his place.”
Daniel’s mouth tightened and he edged along the row of people to where Cyrus sat. He leaned in and said something that made Cyrus’s paddle waver just slightly, and then the older man lowered his paddle and placed it facedown on his lap.
Mr. Waldon announced the current bid that was now approaching five million dollars—a bargain for land on Nantucket. He scanned the crowd for any other bids, his eyes landing finally on his wife, who shook her head once. The gavel came down and to Jo it sounded like a gunshot.
“Sold.” Mr. Waldon thanked everyone for coming, and the people began moving back out to the yard, covering themselves from the fine drizzle that had started at dawn and not let up.
Jo watched Daniel approach Mrs. Waldon. He seemed nervous, almost as if he were afraid of what the woman might tell him. But when she nodded her head and smiled, Daniel’s handsome face split into a grin. He turned to Cyrus and gave him the thumbs-up sign, and now Cyrus was laughing and shaking his head. Daniel said something else to Mrs. Waldon and then headed at a run out the side door of the shed and up to the porch.
What on earth is going on? Jo wondered.
Jo worked her way through the people waiting out the rain in the doorway and bumped into Cyrus.
“Come on, Jo,” he said with a grin. “You’re not going to want to miss this.” He took her arm and moved toward the farmhouse at a brisk gait Jo would never have expected of him.
“It’s over, Mom,” Daniel was saying as they reached the porch. He had pulled a rocker close to the swing where Jazz held on to Ella.
“How much?” Ella asked.
Daniel gave her the price and she blinked. “Is that enough?” she asked.
Daniel shrugged. “We can make it work if you’re willing to take the cottage.”
“Take it where?” Ella asked and she glanced up at Cyrus. “What are you grinning about, old man?” she huffed, then turned her attention back to Daniel. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a simple question. Are you willing to move out of the house here and live in the cottage?”
“You mean rent from the new owners?” The air went out of her. “You’re telling me we can’t afford the assisted living?”
Daniel took both her hands in his. “I bought Star Pond, Mom. And I’m asking if you’d like to stay here with me—and Jazz.”
“Why can’t she live here in her house, then?” Jazz demanded at the same time that Ella said, “Oh, no, son. It’s too much. You can’t afford…”
“I sold the hotel back to Gloria’s dad. I used the money to buy this place, although I have to tell you I paid more than I thought I’d need to, thanks to Cyrus here.”
Ella’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Cyrus. “Cyrus Banks, what were you thinking?”
“That we’ve been neighbors now for over fifty years. I don’t have the time nor the patience to break in a bunch of city slickers who don’t know squat about living on an island.”
“Okay, I get it,” Jazz said, “but I still don’t see why Grams has to move down to the cottage.”
Daniel stood up and put his arm around Jo. “Because I’m hoping to persuade Jo to marry me. I’m hoping that we can be a real family—a multigenerational family.”
Jazz’s eyes widened. “For real?”
“We’ve got some details to work out, but if that works for you and Mom and Jo, then yeah, for real.”
“Daniel Armstrong,” Ella protested, “if this is your idea of a proper proposal then I have failed miserably. Now you take that young woman for a walk and you do this thing properly, and don’t you come crying to me when she turns you down as she has every right to do.”
Jo could not recall a time when she’d been more embarrassed. She hated being the center of attention in any case, but now everyone’s happiness seemed to hinge on her. Overwhelmed by the drama of the day, she muttered an apology and fled.