Page 24 of Lost Dreams

Lorelei laughed. “Maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t overdo it. Unless you want to play a few more? If they don’t boo us off stage, that is.”

“I would play music all night with you,” Carter said.

Lorelei’s heart shifted. Standing from the piano bench, she searched her mind for what to say, for how to get through the tremendous attraction she felt for this man—this man who was not her husband. She was not and never had been a cheater. “Let’s go outside and grab a drink?”

Carter agreed. He followed her out to the immaculate grounds, where they passed Francesca, Benjamin, Jack, and Charlotte, chatting happily with glasses of white wine. At the sight of Carter, Francesca bubbled with excitement.

“Carter! It’s been years and years,” she said, taking his hand. “How have you been?”

Lorelei marveled at the ease with which her beautiful mother encountered the world. It was as though nothing frightened her, especially not now that she’d gone through chemotherapy.

“I’m doing just fine,” Carter said. “Here on Nantucket for the summertime.”

“Just like our Lorelei,” Francesca said. “Isn’t it funny how people come back together again?”

“It feels like we’re teenagers again.” Carter flicked his eyes back toward Lorelei.

Lorelei felt someone’s gaze on her, and she twisted to the right to find Aurora, her eyes fiery and knowing. Beside her were those stable men—Oren and Kenny—each of them drinking beers and laughing, while Aurora remained quiet.

It had been a little while since Lorelei had had a conversation with Aurora. Maybe because Aurora was frightened of her father, she’d kept a wide berth, doing whatever it was that Aurora did when she was alone. There was so little Lorelei knew about her daughter.

Lorelei left Carter with her mother and father and picked her way across the veranda toward Aurora. Aurora seemed intent on not looking frightened, on looking as cool as a cucumber.

“Ciao, Mama,” she said. “You look beautiful today.”

Lorelei smiled. “I took your father and brother and sister to the airport.”

Aurora’s eyes swelled the slightest bit. “Yes, well. I guess we’ll both see them in the fall?”

“That’s the plan, right?” Lorelei searched her daughter’s face for any information but got nothing. Beside them, Kenny and Oren were discussing one of Lorelei’s grandfather Accetta’s films—the cinematography and the buildup of the music. They were artists, Lorelei realized. It was why Aurora was drawn to them. She was an artist, too—but what had happened in Berlin had shattered her artistic heart.

For the first time, Lorelei wondered if she hadn’t been there enough for her daughter during that trying time. Yes, she’d gone to Berlin, and yes, she’d brought her home. But then she’d allowed Aurora to enroll in business school? What kind of mother was she?

She searched her heart and mind for what to say and how to translate this. But before she could, Aurora asked, “You’re performing? With that man?”

Lorelei followed Aurora’s gaze back to Carter, who, at that moment, threw his head back happily, laughing at something Benjamin was saying.

“He’s an old friend,” Lorelei explained.

Aurora took a beat. “I look forward to it.”

Feeling miffed and uncertain as to why, Lorelei excused herself and returned to the shadows of the Lodge, where she sipped her wine and waited for her time to go on stage. In her head, she rehearsed the lyrics, as though they weren’t permanently written on her heart. And when it came time to go up on stage with Carter Johnson by her side, she felt a generous smile on her face. She felt her heart opening up.

A staff member had wheeled the grand piano outside, so that Lorelei and Carter could perform in the day’s dying summer sunshine. Out across the water, pinks and yellows and turquoises created a dynamic painting, one that made her soul feel illuminated. The crowd gathered, tightening around the little stage, where Carter strummed the first chord quietly, as though he was frightened he’d forgotten it since they’d practiced.

Lorelei leaned toward the microphone. “Welcome to the White Oak Lodge,” she said. “This place has been in my family for generations. In fact, my Great-Great-Great Grandfather Samuel Whitmore built it in 1862, smack-dab in the middle of the war that nearly shattered our great nation forever. It’s hard to believe so much time passed between the tragedy that befell our family back in 1998 and the reopening of the Lodge last month. But we’re so grateful to be here with you all. We’re so grateful to feel the love from all of you and from the island of Nantucket.”

Delicately, beautifully, Lorelei began to play, closing her eyes as her words floated away from her and she fell into the music. Beside her, Carter began to strum his guitar. And when it was time, their voices came together in harmony, captivating the two hundred guests at the Lodge.

12

Aurora stood at the back of the crowd, flanked by Kenny and Oren, watching her mother perform song after song. It was clear that the audience couldn’t get enough of her. They were captivated by the beauty of her singing voice and the dense layering she built with her rolling wrists and sensitive fingers. It was hard for Aurora to believe that Lorelei had abandoned music for so many years. In fact, Aurora couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her mother play. How was it possible that her mother had buried this clear talent deep within herself for so many years? How had she turned her back on herself?

Had Aurora’s father demanded that Lorelei quit?

And who was that man beside her? This “old friend”? It was clear that Carter was—or at least had been—in love with her. Had Lorelei loved him back?

“Wow,” Kenny muttered into Aurora’s ear, bowing his head toward her mother.