Page 17 of The House on Firefly Beach
“Syd…” He came up beside her, trying to take something off her hands.
She pulled away again, his efforts only making the tears worse. “Go home,” she said, her voice breaking as she attempted to swallow her emotion.
“Talk to me.” His hand brushed her arm softly, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I’m done talking,” she said, refusing to make eye contact with him for fear that her resolve would crumble into a million pieces when she looked into his eyes. This was the last straw. She lugged the fishing gear through the yard, dumping it at the edge of the back porch, and she went inside without looking back. She had to be strong. For herself and for Robby.
Chapter Six
Sydney held her mug of coffee in both hands, the caffeine a welcome sight this morning when she’d come downstairs to a full pot still warming. Her mother had made it for her, with a note that said, “Have a great day!” Sydney was heading in to the wellness center to chat with Mary Alice about the magazine.
The house was still quiet as she sat in the crisp morning air—that slip of time before the sun brought the intense heat of the day—the French doors ajar, the porch open to allow the breeze to come inside. She walked over to the open living area that was adjacent to the kitchen and ran her fingers along the whitewashed chest Aunt Clara had bought because she thought it resembled the color of a sand dollar. Everything in this room was hers, down to the creamy textured walls and the carved driftwood moldings along the doorframes and windows. Sydney could still remember Aunt Clara’s excitement as she’d shown them all once they were installed. “Feast your eyes on this!” she’d said, delighting in customizing this cottage to make it feel uniquely theirs.
Beau got off his cushion and greeted her. She reached down and patted his head and his tail wagged weakly. It was clear that he missed Ben.
“I know, boy,” she said to him. “Ben won’t be gone too long.”
Beau’s ears perked up at the mention of his master’s name.
Sydney took a long drink from her mug, savoring the nutty, smooth flavor of it and stared out of the bay window at the gulf. It was another perfectly clear early summer day, the palms dancing in the breeze, the bleached sand nearly glowing like a winding strip of white paint out at the shoreline. One of the groundskeepers was up early, cleaning the glass of the lighthouse. She’d had to hire a brand new staff to take care of the Starlight Cottage estate after Aunt Clara had passed away. Uncle Hank wasn’t great at managing the property himself, and in his grief of losing Aunt Clara, he’d let the place fall into disrepair, but now Starlight Cottage was just as it had been growing up, and Sydney couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
She was glad for the comfort of the cottage this morning. She’d been up a lot of the night, thinking about what had happened yesterday, wondering if she’d overreacted. Nate had no right to offer to spend time with Robby without discussing it with her first. But she kept thinking that if it had been anyone else, she would have been overjoyed to have an opportunity for Robby to warm up to someone.
“You look nice,” Jacqueline said, coming into the kitchen. She walked over to the window and put her arm around her daughter.
“Thanks,” Sydney replied, giving her mama a side-squeeze.
Sydney had curled her hair and put on make-up. She’d even decided to wear the pink summer dress she’d found on sale at the beginning of the season that matched her flats almost perfectly. After helping Mary Alice, she was heading to the coffee shop to make some headway on her first Ms. Flynn response. Today was the start of something great—she could feel it—and she wanted to step into this day believing change was coming. Mary Alice had texted yesterday to confirm with Sydney that she had a therapy session at nine o’clock, but she’d be ready to meet with Sydney a few minutes before, and she would have some ideas laid out. Just the idea of working on something new filled her with a buzzing excitement.
“I heard you tossing and turning in your room last night,” her mother said. “You were restless. Was something on your mind?”
“Nate being back has been hard.” She hadn’t wanted to bring it up before she left for work for fear that it would own her thoughts all day.
“I know,” her mother said, consoling her with another little squeeze. “Do you think he regrets leaving?”
Sydney shrugged, still unable to process her own feelings on the matter. There was a side of her that reverted to the twenty-two-year-old who still struggled to cope with the grief of losing her best friend. But the woman she’d become knew better and wanted to put up the protective shield that she’d worked so hard to erect over the years.
“I think he misses you,” her mother ventured.
“He made his choice,” Sydney said.
“You’re right,” her mom replied, clearly being agreeable so as not to upset her before her day got started. “I’ll go make some more coffee. Uncle Hank and Lewis will want some when they get up and you’ll have enough to fill a travel mug for the road.”
Sydney sat down at the kitchen table and let her eyes fall on Aunt Clara’s seat that always remained empty. She wished her great aunt could be there to help her. Aunt Clara would lean over her steaming mug with an intense stare and tell Sydney exactly how to handle the situation. That was how she was. And now that they’d all come through the initial blur of grief from her death, the whole family was scrambling to find their own direction. Sydney’s mother didn’t have the answers for her any more than she had them herself because they were all trying to get their footing without Aunt Clara’s wisdom to fall back on.
Sydney wasn’t really sure how Aunt Clara had done it. She’d been a world-renowned designer, running her company Morgan and Flynn while simultaneously being there for every single one of them. She’d been a wife, mother, nurturer, friend, neighbor—everything to everyone. She’d made it look so easy that none of them had considered how to navigate their own hardships by themselves.
Sydney was a thinker. She didn’t often share her feelings with people. Instead, she kept them inside, protecting them from judgment. But Aunt Clara could always tell when something was bothering her. She never had to say anything. She could hear Aunt Clara’s sensible voice in the back of her mind, saying, “The minute you stop thinking so hard about it is the minute the answer will come to you.” That was exactly what she would do: Sydney decided right then and there to put all her focus on what made her happy. If she did that, she couldn’t go wrong.
Sydney walked up to the white clapboard storefront that Mary Alice had converted into her practice. The old display window had been renovated into a window-seat with coordinating patterned pillows in calming shades of green and cream. An oval sign that read “Seaside Calm and Family Wellness Center” hung by the door. Sydney straightened her dress and squared her shoulders, the anticipation of the day humming within her. But when she opened the door and stepped into the main room, she had to keep her mouth from dropping open.
Nate and Juliana were sitting together on the sofa in the waiting area. They both looked at Sydney just as Mary Alice walked in from the back.
“Oh, hi!” she said to Sydney. “I’ll just show you to the back room.” Then she turned to Nate. “I’ll be with you two in just a second.”
Nate’s gaze was on Sydney but she ignored it completely, her mind whirring.
“Nate is your first client?” Sydney said in a whisper as they reached the spare room where they’d be meeting. The room was a crisp white with a small desk in the center and a window view of the strip of grass that ran along the back of the building outside.
