Suddenly, Lydia looked exhausted, her face lined with wrinkles, her shoulders sagging. “It’s Pam who’s been getting treatment, Caitlin. When she found out that Nicole died—” Her voice caught mid-sentence. “She was very upset and the doctors thought it was best to give her some medication and keep her there overnight, so she could rest. Her relatives are flying in to help with… with everything. Someone will stop by the cottages for their luggage, so Bob wanted us to ask Marion to pack their things for them.”
“I’ll go talk to her,” said Albert, his voice somber and low. He slowly rose to his feet. “When she’s done packing, I can bring the bags around front so they’ll be ready for Pam’s family.”
“Why won’t either of you listen to me?” cried Caitlin. “Nicole’s not dead! This is just an act. You’ve never seen her perform, but once she gets into character, she’s super convincing. She does this kind of thing all the time. It’s her way of getting attention. But she probably snuck out of the hospital by now and I bet I know right where she’s hiding.”
“Caitlin, I understand that this is a huge, horrible shock, and it’s very difficult to accept, but Pam and Bob confirmed that?—”
Before her aunt could finish her sentence, Caitlin bolted from the house, allowing the door on the screened-in porch to slam behind her, and charged into the windmill. Calling Nicole’s name, she clambered up the stairs to the loft, but even before she reached the top step, she saw that the room was empty and Nicole’s T-shirt and leggings were balled up on top of the package of paper towels, just where Caitlin had left them for her to find.
She snatched up the clothes and shook them hard in front of her face, asking, “How could you do this? You promised you wouldn’t leave the party. You promised, Nicole! How could you go off by yourself anddie?”
She kicked the pack of paper towels, spilling the rolls across the floor. She kicked those, too, and they bounced against the walls and knocked over a mop and broom. Caitlin kept kicking and stomping until she was exhausted, and the loft was strewn with paper products, dented cardboard boxes, and upended buckets.
Then she dropped to the floor, buried her face in Nicole’s T-shirt, and sobbed.
SIX
PRESENT DAY
Caitlin wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.Crying now won’t change what happened in the past, she told herself.It’ll only keep me from making progress today.
Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to go up into the loft of the windmill. So she cleared a path for Shane through the neatly arranged gardening and lawn tools. Then she turned around, went outside, and locked the door behind her.
After she’d washed her face and lingered over a second cup of coffee, Caitlin felt composed enough to take her daily stroll into town. Inspired by the crisp, autumn air, when she reached the market, she went inside and purchased the ingredients for making apple cinnamon muffins.
Baking will be a good distraction from dwelling on the past, she reasoned.And if the muffins turn out, maybe I’ll bring a few to Marion as a thank-you for recommending Shane.
The prospect of baking made her recall her uncle’s exaggerated complaints about how hot the kitchen became when Lydia baked cookies for the guests on Saturday mornings.It’s too bad Uncle Albert never made it to the island in the fall, when the weather was cooler. On a day like today, he would’vebeen glad to warm up near the oven, reading his paper while Aunt Lydia baked dessert…
The scenario was bittersweet to imagine. It also hurt to think about how pleased Lydia had been that their niece had wanted to spend Thanksgiving with them on Dune Island. But what could Caitlin do about it now that her aunt and uncle had passed away? Shaking her head, she pushed the recollection from her mind, just as she’d done with the other plans she and Lydia had made before Nicole drowned, and everything changed.
Converting the loft into a sitting room is the only dream from the past that I can still fulfill for Aunt Lydia, she realized.So instead of acting like such a baby about being here, I need to muscle through it and do whatever it takes to make sure the results are amazing.
Caitlin had just set the muffins on the cooling rack when her phone rang.
“Hi, Caitlin,” her sister-in-law whispered.
“Suzanne? Is everything okay?” replied Caitlin, baffled by her low voice.
“Yes. I’m just being quiet so the children won’t hear me. I don’t want to get their hopes up in case you’re busy, but is there any chance you have time for a quick video chat with them today? I’ve been trying to stall until you were more settled in, but they’re dying to see ‘Auntie’s Auntie’s windmill.’”
Caitlin had to laugh at the reference. Although she’d told her brother and sister-in-law about the stipulation for her inheritance, all she’d said to the children was that she was fixing up her aunt’s old windmill so someone would want to buy it. Because they’d never met Lydia, and Charlie had barely known her, either, Caitlin had omitted the details about her aunt dying and leaving the property to her. So the children thought it stillbelonged to Lydia, and they’d been calling it “Auntie’s Auntie’s windmill,” as if that were its proper name.
“Sure, I’d love to chat with them,” agreed Caitlin. “Just give me half an hour to clean up a mess I made in the kitchen.”
When Suzanne called back and Caitlin showed the children the cottage through her phone screen, they thought it was cute—but when she showed them the view from outside, they were utterly fascinated by the windmill.
“Can you press the button?” Logan, her older nephew asked.
“What button?”
“The one that makes that big fan on the roof spin around.”
Caitlin smiled and explained the function of the windmill’s arms, adding, “They’re locked in place now, so they don’t turn. But that’s okay because the windmill isn’t used for grinding grain anymore—it’s mostly just for decoration.”
“We have a ’coration, too. It’s for Halloween,” Caitlin’s younger nephew, Archie, piped up. “We made it out of leaves and Daddy’s clothes. ’Cept I forgot what it’s called.”
“A scarecrow,” his brother wisely informed him. “It has a jack-o-lantern for its head and a LED candle inside so his eyes light up. Show her, Mom.”
