Page 70 of The Summer House
Twenty-Four
They pulledup outside The Beachcomber and got out of the car. The wind was still strong, whipping against them as they all walked.
Juliette and Lillian stayed with the kids while Olivia, Aiden, and Callie went to see if The Beachcomber had sustained any damage. They got up to the house and went around to the back to check it out. They were on land the whole way, which was a good thing—the waters had receded. The new walkway was damaged, she could already see. Of course the plants were gone too, and the whole yard was a soaking mess, full of debris.
“It can all be repaired,” Aiden said encouragingly.
When Callie turned to see the back of the cottage, her confidence faltered. The new porches had been ripped apart, the wood either washed away or dangling precariously from the stilts, and the shingles were missing on part of the house. She blinked, trying desperately not to tear up. The grand opening was only a week away. There was no possible way she could get it all rebuilt and ready in time. It had been risky to open during hurricane season, but they’d hoped for the best, knowing it was their only shot at recovering the some of the funds they’d spent on the remodel. She swallowed, trying to alleviate the lump in her throat.
Olivia came over and took her hand, squeezing it tightly, which only made the tears come faster as they spilled down her cheek.
“Let’s walk back around front and go inside so we can see if there is any water damage to the interior,” Aiden said softly.
They climbed the front steps and Callie pulled her keys out of her pocket, slipping them into the door. She took off her shoes on the porch and Olivia and Aiden did the same. The front of the house was fine, all the new painting and the furniture still in great shape. The air inside was hot, the air conditioning turned off before they’d left, but it all looked okay. With every step she felt relief.
Until they got to the kitchen.
There was water damage to the ceiling at the outside wall, her new paint having buckled under the pressure of the leak. The entire wall would have to be replaced, and the ceiling patched. Callie bit her trembling lip. First impressions meant everything. People were counting on her for a wonderful vacation. Reviews would make or break a business at this stage. They had to have it perfect for the opening if she wanted to make a success of this. Another tear laced with worry slid down her cheek.
“We can fix this,” Aiden said.
She shook her head, clearing her throat and trying to push away her tears. “That’s very sweet of you,” she said, looking over at Olivia. “I’m just worried about the time…”
“I know it’ll be a rush, but it’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “We’ll just need everyone to pitch in.” Aiden took Olivia’s hand. “I promise. You’ll open on time,” he said.
Even though Lukehad sent a text telling his cousin he was fine, Aiden had insisted they all go to Luke’s to make sure that he didn’t need any help. Although it pained her to leave The Beachcomber, she knew there wasn’t much she could do on her own until Aiden’s crew arrived.
Luke’s house had some damage: The garage had flooded, so they used large brooms to push the water out; there was some destruction on the deck which Aiden helped to assess, and a bit of the landscaping would have to be redone. Lillian had been able to save a few of the smaller plants but the stretch to the beach was so large, their acreage so big, that there’d been room for the tide to come up.
It had been a very long day. They all gathered in Luke’s living room, exhausted, when Lillian finally spoke.
“I called your father,” she said quietly to Luke, but everyone could hear. “I just couldn’t sit by and watch him pull everything away from you like that. I told him point blank that he was going to lose you.” She leaned against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. “He hired a car to take us home from the hospital when you were born, and he sat next to your seat, cooing to you all the way home.” She looked into Luke’s eyes. “He helped you take your first steps when you started walking, holding out his hands everywhere you went so you could try to reach them… He spent hours outside, teaching you how to ride a bike, steadying the back of it as it wobbled. You didn’t want to go inside that day, and he stayed with you, delighting in your perseverance—do you remember?”
Luke nodded and there was a long silence as they both contemplated the enormity of the situation. “What did he say when you spoke to him?” he asked.
“He’s just scared and hurt. I know him well enough to know that. But I could feel his sadness in his silence.”
Luke took in a breath. “We’ve all had a lot going on. Let’s try to relax and be thankful that our homes were mostly spared by this storm. Why don’t we all just unwind?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes as if relieving the pain there, then went into the kitchen. “Who needs a glass of wine?” he said over the large island separating the rooms.
They all nodded wearily. While Juliette and Luke handed out glasses, Lillian made an impromptu cheese platter with a few crackers and several cheeses. They had broken into small groups of chatter as they sprawled out on the sofas in the large living area. Luke’s face had fallen back into a neutral expression, as if he wanted to block everything out for the time being.
Callie sipped her wine quietly on the sofa, smiling subtly at Aiden as he told Olivia that he’d like to take Wyatt to play mini-golf once this ordeal was over. She also noticed how Frederick had started chatting quite easily with Luke about the dog. She could tell they’d been getting to know one another during their time together at Paula’s by the way they were talking.
After quite a while, once the wine had done its job, and everyone had relaxed a little, Frederick sat up and ran his hands through his hair. In that moment, Callie could almost see what he might have looked like as a young man, and Luke’s strong resemblance to him was clearer than it had ever been. “I brought something,” he said, the other conversations subsiding. He smiled nervously, pulling out the same bag he’d brought when he’d arrived to do the mural. Callie had noticed that he’d taken it with him when they’d evacuated, but he hadn’t opened it until now.
They were all gathered around, scooting together on the sofas in the living room. The bag was too flat to have clothes inside, and she’d never seen anything quite like it. He reached over and set it on his lap, unzipping it, and drew out large sheets of paper, laying them down on the coffee table. Callie had to catch her breath.
Lillian clapped a hand over her heart, getting up to view them: pencil sketches of Lillian, the wind blowing her hair, large sunglasses on her face, smiling; Luke pitching a baseball—he must have been about seven; the back of a woman as she sat reading on a blanket on the beach and another of her, leaning against a surfboard.
“Oh my God,” Callie said, unable to look away from the pictures scattered along the table.
“Alice was there while Luke was growing up, but I was too.” Frederick regarded Luke, his face vulnerable with his admission. “I didn’t go to see him as much as she did because every time I did, it ripped my heart out. But I was there. I kept going to Corolla, I was at his baseball games, I saw him riding horses and learning to surf like I did. Whenever I could muster the energy, I went, but after I saw him, I just felt drained, empty.”
For the first time, Callie saw fondness in Luke’s eyes when he looked at Frederick.
With trembling arms, Lillian hugged them both, and what looked like years of burden fell away from her face, relief flooding it. Frederick had his hand on Lillian’s shoulders now, his fingers moving up to her neck as he pulled her into the embrace, Luke by his side. It was as if time stood still. Maybe it hurt, maybe things would be changed forever, but this was right. It should’ve happened years ago. Once the moment had passed, Lillian pulled back. “What will we say to the press?” she worried.
“I don’t care,” Luke said. There was a commanding presence to him just then, and it revealed that he’d made up his mind. He wasn’t shying away from the press anymore.
