Rachel
“Dinner is in the oven. I made taco casserole. It should be done in about twenty minutes. When the timer goes off, take it out, add the chopped onions, tomatoes and corn chips and extra cheese and throw it back in for about a minute. Got that?”
Cody made a face. “I don’t know. Maybe we should go through it again. You’ve only told me three times and written it down on that big yellow note card next to the oven.”
She couldn’t help it if she tended to overprepare. Cody didn’t always pay attention when she told him things. The last time he had stayed with the kids while she attended a church women’s meeting, he had gotten so busy building a fort out of blankets for them in the living room that he forgot to feed them dinner.
“The girls both need to wash their hair tonight. I need them for a product shoot tomorrow and I want to curl it in the morning, plus Ava got peanut butter in hers earlier when we were baking dog treats for Freckles.”
Cody, holding Silas on his lap, nodded. “Rach. I’ve got this. We’ll be fine. Go and have a good time with your sister.”
She wanted to roll her eyes at that. She wasn’t going to have a good time with Jess. Cody knew how messy their relationship could be. She had cried about it to him often enough.
Her heart was an open book when it came to her sister. She was like Freckles, following Jess around with her tongue hanging out, just waiting for a little affection.
She felt like she was always the one who reached out, who invited Jess for the holidays, who FaceTimed whenever the kids had a milestone.
Jess kept so much of herself closed off.
She hadn’t always been that way. They had been so close once, sharing clothes and toys and secrets.
Her sister had become a polite stranger over the years since they had lived together. Rachel sometimes wondered why she even bothered pushing for them to stay connected.
What would they talk about during dinner? Their difficult history seemed to be off-limits and Jess never seemed to want to talk about her own personal life. Rachel didn’t even know if she was seeing anybody.
She would probably end up babbling on for two hours about the kids and Cody while Jess sat across from her, trying not to yawn.
Was it too late to cancel?
“Don’t forget Silas’s antibiotic for his ear infection before bed and the drops after his bath. And you know he insists he has to have you read him the story about the purple dinosaur.”
Cody smiled but she could sense his annoyance. “You wrote everything down. We’ll be fine. I can call you if we have any problems. And it’s not like you’ll be in another time zone. You’re only ten minutes away. Where are you eating?”
“The Fishwife.”
“Always a good choice. Don’t worry about us,” he said again. “Go have a good time.”
She wanted to cancel the whole thing. She couldn’t feel good about leaving him with the kids, especially with the horrendous day she had just survived. Silas had been on a nonstop tantrum.
Nothing was right for him. The tags on his clothing bothered him until she cut them off, he ripped the pages out of a library book she had foolishly left within his reach, he didn’t like the way she made his eggs so he threw them on the floor, to Freckles’s delight.
The day had started out hard and had only grown worse. Now he seemed to be done with his difficult mood, content to sit on Cody’s lap and play with his favorite fidget toy.
She couldn’t help but resent the way Cody could just waltz in and calm things down, even though Rachel was the one dealing with Silas through most of the day.
She was exhausted, mentally and physically. She wanted to find a secluded beach somewhere, sink down in the sand and cry for the next year.
The only problem with that? Once she started, she probably would not be able to stop. The grief and worry she felt for her son’s future always simmered beneath the surface but today it seemed to have boiled over several times.
The last thing she felt like doing right now was putting on a good show of determined cheerfulness for Jess, her sister, who was as hard to reach in her own way as Silas.
Rachel had invited her, though, and she couldn’t back down. Might as well get this over with, right?
She put the spa channel on her car stereo as she drove to Whitaker House. The house was in such a striking location. Wouldn’t it be something if Eleanor put it on the market? Not that she and Cody could afford it. They were doing okay. Not bad, actually, for two kids who had married right out of high school. The roofing company Cody ran with his brothers was always busy and she was starting to bring in decent ad revenue from her blog, YouTube videos and social media.
She was deeply grateful their years of struggle and grind were beginning to pay off. They did fine, but probably not the kind of fine that could afford a house like this, right on the water.
Someday, maybe.
When she pulled up to the house, she found Jess’s Airstream gleaming in the fading sun, cute as ever, parked near the path that led down to Sunshine Cove. Her sister opened the door to the trailer the moment Rachel pulled up. Her clothes were casual and quite nondescript, merely jeans and a tailored white shirt. She didn’t wear any jewelry but somehow Jess, lean and fit with their dad’s honey-colored hair and their mother’s green eyes, managed to look quietly gorgeous.
She rarely even wore much makeup, only lip color and mascara.
Rachel, who had spent more than an hour getting ready in between helping Grace with homework, prepping the casserole for them, and keeping Ava and Silas apart after Silas ruined his sister’s block castle, tried not to be envious at Jess’s effortless beauty. “Sorry I’m late. Things were crazy at home.”
“No problem. I’ve been enjoying the night.”
“How’s Vera treating you?”
Jess made a face at the name her friend Yvette had given the Airstream. “Fine. As comfortable as ever.”
“Have you made any other changes since you were here last? I know Yvette was talking about adding a few finishing touches.”
“She made new cushions for the banquette.”
“Ooh. Can I see?”
Jess hesitated, as if she didn’t want to share even this small piece of herself with Rachel, but after a moment, she opened the door and gestured inside.
Rachel stepped inside and was charmed all over again at the warm, comfortable interior of the trailer. “This is so fabulous. I should take some IG pictures. I could even do a YouTube video to show off your hard work. Yvette has done such an amazing job in here.”
“She did. Though it was a team effort. We had some talented craftspeople work on the cabinets and the custom upholstery.”
“Everyone did a stellar job. So can I feature it while you’re here in town? I won’t use your name or any identifying details. I can protect your precious privacy.”
Jess didn’t look thrilled at the idea but Rachel appreciated that at least she didn’t completely dismiss it. “Sure, if we can find a time that works for both of us. You can come over during any day while I’m helping Eleanor, then I’ll be out of the way.”
“That might work. I’ll let you know how my schedule is this week.”
She wanted to stay here in this cozy little haven, close the curtains to block out the world and all its pain, and curl up on that bed. A rainstorm would be even better.
“Should we go?” Jess asked.
Oh. Right. She couldn’t stay here, as much as she might want to. They had to get through dinner. “We probably should. We have a reservation in fifteen minutes.”
“Where are we going?” Jess asked as they walked out of the trailer and headed toward Rachel’s minivan.
“There’s a place I love with excellent food and a nice outdoor space overlooking the sea. The Fishwife.”
“Sounds good.”
Just as they started to climb into her minivan, Rachel saw two people walking past on the way to Whitaker House.
“Hi, Rachel.” Sophie Whitaker waved with enthusiasm. “Hi, Jess.”
“Hello, Sophie the Fabulous,” Rachel said with a bright smile for the girl who babysat for her sometimes. “Hi, Nate.”
Nate Whitaker leaned in and kissed her cheek. He always smelled good, with some kind of soap that held traces of juniper and sage.
She ought to ask him what he used and give some to Cody. But how did a woman come right out and ask a man what products he used so she could get them for her husband?
Cody smelled fine. She usually loved the way her husband smelled but a change couldn’t hurt. Maybe if Cody used something new, Rachel could get back that tingle she used to have every time he walked into a room.
Oh, she missed those days, when she and Cody couldn’t get enough of each other. They could have spent days, weeks, months in bed and never tired of each other.
They usually made love regularly but had been going through a dry spell lately.
She felt sometimes as if it was one more obligation at the end of the day. When was the last time she had actually craved sex, thought about it during the day, ached for her husband’s touch?
Months, at least.
Silas, with his ongoing sensory and behavior issues, seemed to have exploded into their world like a hand grenade in the living room. Adding a son with autism to an already busy life, with two girls and two careers, was exhausting and overwhelming.
She felt guilty comparing the child she loved to an explosive device but it seemed exactly the appropriate metaphor. They were always aware of him, always careful, always afraid something would trigger a blast.
As a result, the hand grenade had taken center stage and everything else seemed to have shriveled in comparison. Including sex.
She loved her husband. He was a good man, a caring father, a wonderful provider. But by nightfall, after she had been wrestling three kids all day, she could barely keep her eyes open, even though she knew a good orgasm was a fabulous stress reducer.
She dragged herself back to the conversation to hear Nate and Jess talking about how Jess and Eleanor had cleaned out another bedroom that day.
“Did you find any more cool retro clothes?” Sophie asked.
“No. But I sent my partner, Yvette, some pictures we took yesterday and she’s pretty excited. She thinks she knows a good consignment shop where we can sell them.”
“Cool,” Sophie said. “I wore the dress we found yesterday to school today for Decade Day and it looked so good. I took some selfies. Want to see?”
“Sure.” Jess smiled at Sophie with a warmth and kindness that shocked Rachel.
The girl scrolled through her phone then held it out to Jess.
“Nice. I like the necklace you’re wearing with it.”
“That’s my friend McKenna’s. Well, her mom’s, anyway. I sent her a pic of the dress last night and she thought it would go perfectly.”
“Can I see?” Rachel asked.
Sophie looked a little awestruck at that but handed over her phone. She was charmed by the picture of the teenager in a flapper-style ’20s dress with fringe and a scalloped neckline. “Very nice. You found that in a closet?”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “And a bunch of other cool stuff.”
“I’d like to know when you found time to coordinate accessories last night with your friend McKenna amid all the excitement over finding the bottle. Have you heard back on the message?”
“Not yet. But it didn’t get autoreturned so I think it’s probably still an active email account. We’ll see what happens. It’s pretty cool.”
“You found a bottle?” Rachel tried to follow the conversation, still reeling at the ease and comfort with which her sister seemed to interact with Sophie. She also noticed a strange tension in the air between Nate and Jess. What was that all about?
“Yeah. A really cool one with a message inside from some school in Japan studying ocean currents. They asked anybody finding one to email back. I can’t wait to see if I get an answer.”
“That’s great! My kids are always looking for them!”
“We found it last night after dinner when we all went down to Sunshine Cove. So after Gram and I came back and left Jess and Dad down there, I sent the email to Japan and then sent the pic of the dress to McKenna, who showed it to her mom, who said she had the perfect necklace and earrings to go with it.”
“It’s nice,” Jess said, apparently following that long-winded explanation. “I like the way the colors complement each other.”
Somehow Rachel managed to keep her jaw from sagging. Was this really her former military truck–driving, no-nonsense sister talking about fashion?
“I can’t believe you found such a great dress in a closet,” Rachel said.
“Jess found a bunch of cool clothes. Lots of them fit me, too. Gram says I can keep whatever I want.”
“Which seems to me just a way of moving Gram’s clutter from Whitaker House to our place,” Nate pointed out. “That hardly seems fair.”
Jess shrugged. “My job is to help your mom clean out her place. You can’t hold me responsible for the amount of clutter that migrates from her house to yours.”
Nate laughed and Rachel could swear she saw Jess give a smile in return before her mouth straightened up again.
What in the world? Something was definitely up between the two of them.
“We were just about to grab dinner with my mom. You’re both welcome to join us.”
Rachel was almost tempted to call The Fishwife and cancel their reservations just so she could see if her initial instincts were right.
“Thanks, but we have reservations,” Jess said. “And we should probably get going so we’re not late.”
“Too bad,” Sophie said with a little pout.
“But totally understandable,” Nate said. “Have a good evening.”
“You, as well,” Rachel said. “Give my love to your mom.”
“I will.”
They waved and headed on their way toward the house, and Rachel and Jess both climbed into her van.
“Nate is such a great guy,” Rachel said as she started driving the short distance to downtown. “Half the women in town are in love with him and the other half are in lust.”
“Including you?” Jess asked.
“No!” Rachel exclaimed. “I have Cody.”
For now, anyway. Until he decided not to put up with his bitchy wife anymore. She felt that familiar tremor of fear, the helpless feeling that washed over her whenever she worried she wasn’t doing enough to keep her marriage together.
She pushed it away for now, determined to try harder.
The Fishwife was busy, as always.
“Good thing I made a reservation,” she said as she and Jess walked through the crowd of waiting people.
Inside, she greeted the hostess, Maria Sanchez, a college student whose mom went to spin class with Rachel.
“Your table isn’t quite ready. I’m sorry. It’s being bused now so should be soon. Would you like to wait in the bar?”
“The bar is great,” she answered, though she was tired enough after her hard day to wish she could stretch out on the long bench out front and take a nap.
“You wanted the patio, right?”
“Sure. The weather is nice. That’s good.”
“It shouldn’t be long now,” the hostess said.
“Thank you,” she said.
She and Jess both ordered the same drink, a classic mint mojito, which surprised her. That had been their mother’s drink, she remembered. Veronica Clayton hadn’t been a big drinker but when she did imbibe, she favored mojitos. She ached for her mother suddenly, for warm cookies after school and the smell of her vanilla musk perfume and a soft hand on her forehead when she didn’t feel good.
“So. How are you, anyway?” Jess said, taking a sip of her drink.
“Fine.” Rachel forced a smile. She didn’t want to be here suddenly. She wanted to flee the restaurant, climb in her car and drive down the coast. Away. Just away.
Away from her failures and her fears and all the things she couldn’t fix.
“Is everything okay?” Jess gave her a careful look.
No. Not really. My life is falling apart. But thanks for asking.
She couldn’t say that, of course. She forced a smile, though she felt as if her face would crack with the effort. “Great. Just great. Couldn’t be better.”