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The apartment on Firefly Lane in downtown Bar Harbor offered a six-month lease. Six months, Angie and Hannah told one another. That’s all they needed to figure out what came next. “Whatever it is,” Hannah liked to say, “I’ll be ready for it.”
The apartment was just three rooms: a combined living room and kitchen, plus two bedrooms. The bathroom had a stand-up shower and a sink that often spit out water rather than streamed it. The rent was far cheaper than anything Angie had ever read about in downtown Chicago.
On the drive back from their meeting with Leo and Wendy, Angie and Hannah had sat in the backseat of Luke’s truck and texted back and forth about what to do next. They’d driven across the country. They’d met Angie’s birth mother and two brothers. Had it changed anything? Of course. But what did that mean for their lives?
HANNAH: I think we should stick by Luke and Heather. They’re beautiful people. And I like the idea of staying away from Chicago for a while. Running away. You with me, Louise?
ANGIE: Always, Thelma.
It was February 16th, which meant that Luke, Uncle Luke, Luke the younger brother, was turning forty-four. Heather had planned a beautiful birthday party at the Keating Inn, and both Angie and Hannah had been invited. Now, hours before the celebration, mother and daughter squabbled about what to wear. It would be their real “introduction” to the people of Bar Harbor, a place they’d decided would be their home. It was a big deal. Hannah, pregnant, thought every dress made her look “fat.” Angie didn’t know how to argue with her. Ultimately, her excitement for her grandbaby and this newfound life on the coast filled her with overzealous joy. Why did Hannah care about some party dress? Their world was different now. It belonged to them and no one else.
“Where are your gold bands?” Hannah ducked out of the bathroom, her eyes wide as she hunted for Angie’s earrings, which they’d purchased together at a boutique several afternoons before.
“On the nightstand,” Angie told her. “In my bedroom.”
Hannah disappeared and then came back out to the living room with glorious dancing earrings, which highlighted her dark eyes. Angie’s heart jumped with gladness.
“Do you really think Leo will show up?” Hannah asked as she sat at the edge of the couch. She placed her fist at the base of her chin and watched her mother contemplatively. Every day seemed a new adventure.
“I have no idea,” Angie returned. “We haven’t heard from him very much since the Boston trip.”
“It’s probably a lot to take in,” Hannah said. “The fact that you had these other siblings who didn’t grow up with you...”
Angie’s stomach tightened. In truth, the story had hit her like a ton of bricks. Her elder brother had been allowed the nourishing presence of their mother, while she and Luke had been cast out to other storylines. One night, she’d spent nearly six hours curled around the toilet, puking when necessary. Why not her? Why not Luke? Why just Leo? What had gone on in that woman’s head all the way back in 1978?
At six o’clock, Angie and Hannah arrived at the Keating Inn and Acadia Eatery for Luke’s forty-forth birthday. Nicole had baked an elaborate and gorgeous birthday cake with beautiful flower detail, plus the words, “YOU ARE OLD.” Luke groaned yet laughed wildly when he saw it beneath twelve flickering candles.
“You’re a monster,” he told Nicole. “Thank you.”
As the thirty-plus number of guests sang him a happy birthday, Luke placed one arm around Heather’s waist and one over Angie’s shoulder. Over the previous two weeks, the two had gotten closer than ever, swapping stories from their life and finding common ground. Angie found that their sense of humor was linked tremendously and joked that this was a genetic thing. Hannah had continued to call him “Uncle Luke,” and he hadn’t protested once.
They’d begun a new life.
A couple of hours into Luke’s birthday festivities, Angie spotted them at the doorway.
Leo and Wendy Barrington.
Wendy wore a dark purple dress, and her grey hair had been styled so that it curled around her ears. She blinked around the Acadia Eatery with nervous yet excited eyes while her eldest son, Leo, gripped her arm lovingly. He looked just as anxious as she did. When his eyes found Angie’s, he nearly leaped from his skin.
Angie, Luke, and Leo analyzed one another for a long moment. The music continued to blare from the loudspeaker as the rest of the Bar Harbor crew carried on the party. Angie wasn’t sure how they could go on from there. Perhaps she and Luke were too awkward to make any sort of amends with their mother and other brother. Maybe it was too late.
But suddenly, Wendy Barrington bucked away from Leo and shot straight for the baby grand piano in the corner. With a flourish, she sat at the piano and extended her beautiful fingers over the keys. Angie’s heart nearly shattered in her chest. She whipped around to tell someone to turn down the music. It happened just as Wendy began to play a beautiful tune from another era.
The song was called “Dream of Love,” and it was written approximately three hundred years ago all the way in Europe. Angie knew it well, as she’d practiced it for three months straight when she’d been seventeen. She couldn’t believe her mother knew it so well.
“Wow...” Luke said under his breath, eyeing the mother who’d given them life. “She is very talented.”
Angie could have fallen to her knees. But instead, she walked like a ghost to her mother at the piano and leaned against the vibrating baby grand, watching her mother’s face. Her mother, who’d forgotten so much due to dementia, remembered this song by heart. There was no telling where their relationship would go from there. But in Angie’s mind and heart, music was a perfect way to start anything. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream.
**
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