Street and then made the turn onto Schoolhouse Circle. Drake Isle’s public school sat on five acres of property about a half-mile from her bed and breakfast. One building overlooked the water and housed kindergarten through sixth grades. The other sat closer to the road and housed seventh through twelfth grades. Tilly’s two boys had attended the school, so she knew the grounds intimately. She’d been on the PTO for almost fifteen years, and she still missed the days of bake sales and barbeques and field days on the athletic field. Graduation was always a lavish event, with the boys wearing purple and the girls wearing white and everyone holding armfuls of lavender as they walked across the stage to receive their diplomas.
Most mornings, even in poor weather, Tilly walked. Sometimes she walked along Harbor Street. Sometimes she walked out to the north lighthouse. And sometimes, most times, she walked up to the school. On her way she passed an art studio, a bird sanctuary, and the Holy Angels Cemetery.
She didn’t always stop in the cemetery. Some days were too cold, too foggy, too rushed. Some days her heart simply didn’t feel like it could handle the visit. But today the sun shined down without a trace of humidity. She’d slept well. Her legs felt warm and limber from her morning yoga class. And so she turned into the gate at the top of the hill and walked to the far corner of the cemetery.
Jonathan was buried beside their infant daughter, Abigail. Tilly dropped to her knees and pulled away a few stray weeds that had started to grow up through the geraniums she’d planted next to both graves. Abigail had lived only a day. She was born almost three months premature, with a genetic disease so rare she was one of only thirty children in the world to have it. Tilly and Jonathan had spent the entire day in the hospital holding her, marveling at the perfection of her tiny features. Saying goodbye to her only daughter had been both the greatest anguish and the greatest privilege of Tilly’s life.
“Hello, sweetheart.” She ran her fingers over Jonathan’s headstone. “Taking care of our girl?”
She didn’t need him to answer. She knew he was.
“I had an interesting guest at the inn this week. A college professor.” She sat back on her heels and let the sun warm her neck. “He seemed nice, wanted to know about the history of the island.”
Tilly closed her eyes and sat there for a few minutes. Some days she could feel Jonathan’s presence so strongly, it was as though he’d never died at all. His scent, his touch, even his voice seemed to wash over her, as real as ever. Today was one of those days. It almost felt as though if she opened her eyes at just the right time, he’d be kneeling there beside her.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
After a while, she stood and walked to the front of the cemetery. She’d never looked for the college girl’s grave before; she’d had no reason to. But with all the talk about Misterion reopening lately, she’d been curious. It took her almost ten minutes to find it, and when she finally did, it was overgrown with weeds and covered with dirt and sand. Tilly brushed away as much debris as she could.
Piper Townsend
Gone Too Soon
Forever Missed
The dates of her birth and death put her at three weeks shy of her twenty-second birthday. Tilly shook her head. So sad. Piper had no connection to anyone here on the island as far as Tilly knew. Obviously no one tended the grave. Why hadn’t the family taken her away to be buried closer to home?
A bell rang, and Tilly shaded her eyes as elementary school children flooded the playground. The school backed up to the cemetery, which she’d always found a bit odd, but then again, land on the island was limited, and it made sense to bury people at the highest possible point above sea level. She spent another few minutes pulling up weeds around Piper’s grave, so at least the sun could reach the stone and warm it. The poor girl deserved that much. Then Tilly retraced her steps and continued her walk up to the school.
While the little kids ran in circles or climbed the slides or lined up for the swings, the teenagers sat on benches under the trees, scrolling through their phones and talking in half-sentences, using slang Tilly barely knew. The sign in front of the high school read “Congrats to our Prom Court!” and the town had been buzzing with prom preparations for almost a month. Lillian had had to change Tilly’s nail appointment twice to accommodate the girls getting their hair and nails done, and earlier this week, The Water’s Edge put out a sign that announced “No more prom dinner reservations available.”
Tilly couldn’t wait to see the coverage in the Island Courier. There’d be full-color pictures of the six boys and girls on the court, along with the winners in their crowns. Masie’s niece was one of the six, and she hadn’t stopped reminding Tilly about it, especially since Masie herself had been on the prom court almost thirty years ago. Traditions on Drake Isle ran deep.
Tilly’s cell phone rang, and she dug it out of her pocket and flipped it open. Her sons kept harping on her to get a newer one with a slick flat screen that could do all kinds of things on the Internet, but she was happy with the one she had. Besides, she’d saved voicemails from Jonathan on this phone, and despite what her sons told her, she wasn’t convinced she’d be able to keep them if she upgraded.
“Hello?”
“Hi, mom.”
“JJ!” She smiled in surprise. Her oldest rarely called.
“How are you? Everything good on the island?” He sounded rushed, as usual. She could hear other voices in the background.
“I’m fine. Where are you? At work?”
“The hospital, actually.”
Her blood pressure soared. “Why? What hospital? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing with me. Marie’s getting checked out.”
“Is she okay?”
Long pause.
“JJ?” She’d always disliked that nickname. She’d named her first son after his father and thought maybe they’d call him Junior, or even Jonny, but he’d come home one day in kindergarten and announced he wanted to be called JJ. Jonathan Junior. Initials were “cooler,” he’d explained, so Tilly bit her lip and allowed it. “What’s Marie getting checked out for?”
“I thought I told you. We’re trying to get pregnant.”
“Oh. No, you didn’t.” Bubbles of excitement filled her. She couldn’t wait to have grandchildren. It didn’t look like Ernie wasn’t going to settle down anytime soon, but JJ had been married for three years and was in his mid-thirties. Surely a baby would be coming soon. Maybe this was a first trimester visit. Or an ultrasound to find out the gender. “So...” she prompted.
“We’ve been doing in-vitro,” JJ said. “First time didn’t take. Second time we thought it would, but she started bleeding last night, and...” Normally stoic, his voice broke.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Her initial hopes faded. “Is there anything I can do? Want me to come up there?” Boston wasn’t that far a drive, and she didn’t have any guests arriving until the day after tomorrow.
“No, it’s okay. Marie’s really upset, and I...” He trailed off again. “I guess I just wanted to give you a call. Let you know what was going on.”
“I’m glad you did. But are you sure I can’t come? I’ll stay in a hotel. I don’t want to be a burden.” Her only daughter-in-law was a nervous thing, uncomfortable in her own skin, and she always talked to Tilly like they were strangers, though Marie and JJ had been together for almost a decade.
“It’s okay, Mom. It’s been a while, and I know I’ve been really crappy at keeping in touch.”
“You’re busy.”
“That’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry. Just wanted to say that.”
Children shrieked behind her. Tilly turned and shaded her eyes to see that a full-blown game of tag had erupted on the playground.
“You up at the school?” JJ asked.
“How’d you guess?”
He chuckled. “It’s ten-thirty in the morning and the weather’s nice. I’d be concerned if you weren’t on your daily walk.”
“Guess I’m predictable.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Must be almost prom season, right? Man, I remember that like it was yesterday.”
“So do I.” Actually, she remembered JJ’s first steps like they were yesterday. The first time he’d ridden a bike, lost a tooth, driven a car. How was it possible her first-born was almost thirty-five?
“They still have the prom queen and king ride on the float the next day in the parade?”
“Of course. Things like that don’t change here.”
“I don’t think anything changes there.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He didn’t answer. Another bell rang, and the teenagers wandered back inside. Across the playground, the little kids followed a more unruly path, taking forever to disappear through a side door until two teachers finally corralled them. The phone connection went fuzzy, and when Tilly finally heard JJ’s voice again, he sounded strained. “Mom, I gotta go. Doc’s calling me in.”
“Good to hear from you, honey. Let me know how things turn out. And if I can do anything –”
But he’d already hung up. With a heavy heart, she turned and headed down the hill. Her oldest son had always been a go-getter. He’d been near the top of his class in school, worked his way up the corporate ladder, and married a girl from old Manhattan money, and even though Tilly found Marie snooty and uptight, she was still Tilly’s daughter-in-law. To know they were struggling to have children broke her heart.
“Hi, Tilly.”
She looked up to see Emerson Doyle standing in front of her. “Emmy! My goodness, I’m sorry. I almost ran you over. How are you?”
The young woman pulled on her ponytail. “I’m okay. Needed a walk to clear my head.”
Tilly wondered if that need came from the surprise guest in her yoga class that morning, the Carter man who’d stopped by the Drake’s Heart Inn last week. Tilly had recognized him at once, though she’d been as shocked as Emmy to see him walk into Inner Sanctum.
“I need a walk almost every day,” Tilly said.
Emmy looked past her, first to the wide expanse of ocean behind them, then to the cemetery. “It’s beautiful up here.”
“Yes, it is.” It wasn’t a secret that Emmy’s mom had died of cancer the previous winter. Most of the islanders had gone to the memorial service, Tilly included. “You come up to see your mama?”
A shadow crossed Emmy’s face, and she nodded. “It’s weird, the way grief works. The way it comes and goes. Some days I’m okay. Some mornings I wake up and for a few minutes I don’t remember that she’s gone. I lie there, and it feels like it’ll be a regular day. Then I do remember, and everything in my world crumbles. All the light goes away.” She took a deep breath. “It’s hard not having her here anymore.”
Before Tilly knew it, she’d folded Emmy into her arms. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She knew those feelings. She knew what it was like to wake, and then realize what was missing, and then have to adjust your whole day and go on with half your heart buried in a green stretch of grass at the top of the island.
Emmy gave Tilly a quick squeeze and let her go. “I’m okay. Really.” She swept one arm in a wide circle. “I mean, how could I not be, living in a place like this?” Then she added in a quiet voice, “I’m just not sure how much longer I’ll be here.”