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ChapterTwo
The minute Jo’s car passed the sign, “Welcome to Whidbey Island,” she felt her heart clench with anticipation. She hadn’t been driving through the town for more than a few minutes, and already she felt the telltale signs of her flight mode kicking in. Her father’s funeral was three months ago, but with the way she was feeling, it might as well have been just yesterday. It was that same feeling that had clamored at her heart, telling her that she needed to get away from here.
She hadn’t been in contact with her father for more than twenty years up to his death. Still, the feeling of loss had been magnified by the loss of Charles and Nicholas. Unlike her disposition at their funeral, where she’d been numb for the whole service, courtesy of medication prescribed by her MD, the moment she had entered the church for his funeral, she’d felt herself shattering to pieces, and at the end, when she went to say her final goodbye, she almost crumpled and fell to the floor if Cora hadn’t held on to her.
“All right, Jo, get it together. Everything will be fine. You can do this,” she pep-talked herself as her brown eyes stared back at her from the rearview mirror.
Ten minutes later, Jo turned onto the long winding path that led to the family property. The path was hedged in by tall trees on either side, their long, thin branches stretching across each other into a canopy of their dense foliage, forming a tunnel.
The tunnel opened up to the rest of the pathway being hedged in by fire and ice daylilies, anemone, and bomb lilies, further supported by low-cut boxwood. Beyond this was lush greenery for as far as the eyes could see. The uniformity of the terrain only broken by a tree or a shrub here and there and the thick, forested area bordering the property and blocking out most of the view of the harbor.
Shortly after, she was driving past the three-story colonial home that had been transformed into an inn. It had already been passed down five generations in her family, her and her sisters making it six since their father had left it to them. The architecture was one to be marveled at, and with the few additions that she could see were made to it, she was certain it could rival any of the top inns across the country.
She passed the barn house that had been transformed into a restaurant. Even with its rustic-looking exterior, it had an inviting aura about it that called out to the sous chef in her. She would be visiting this spot regularly, she was sure.
When she pulled up to the house five minutes later, the sun was poised to disappear behind the horizon painting the sky orange along with everything else in its path.
Jo stepped out of her car and looked up at the two-story building she grew up in. Not much had changed in the past twenty years. Except for the change of color, everything looked the same. She made her way up the steps that led to the porch, drawing her luggage along. She went to ring the doorbell when the sound of laughter that seemed to be coming from the back of the house caught her attention.
Leaving her belongings by the door, she walked around the wraparound porch until she came upon her mother, her sisters, and her niece Aurora. Cora and her mother were on the porch swing that moved gently back and forth while Andrea and Aurora sat in bamboo chairs looking out at the harbor. The sun that was now halfway down lightly tinted the water, which was darkened by the absence of the full spectrum of light. Each woman had a glass of wine in their hands.
“I hope you left some wine for me,” she spoke, breaking her family out of their conversation.
“Jo,” Andrea said excitedly, getting out of her chair to hug her sister.
Jo held her sister tightly. “Hi, Drea.”
Shortly after Andrea released her, she felt another pair of hands pull her into another embrace. This time it was Cora. “I’m happy you’re here, sweetie,” she murmured against her ear, rubbing her back before releasing. The look of joy reflected in her sister’s eyes told her that her words were sincere.
The next person that hugged her was her niece. “It’s good to see you, Aunt Jo,” she expressed when they separated.
“It’s good to see you too, Rory,” she returned, reaching out to sift a strand of the girl’s ginger-colored hair through her index and middle finger. “How is that wonderful fiancé of yours?” she asked.
At this, an even brighter smile graced the young woman’s face as her emerald eyes glinted. It reminded Jo so much of Tracy’s own expressions when talking about Josh.
“James’s great. He’s still in San Francisco working on a big case,” Rory explained.
“That’s wonderful,” she replied, delighted.
“Hi, Mom,” she greeted Becky, who was a few feet away from her but looked at her with cautious eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, sweetie.” Becky gave her daughter a small smile as she walked toward her. “Better, now that you’re all here,” she revealed before taking her youngest daughter into her arms and hugging her gently.
Jo hugged her mother carefully as if she were a delicate flower that would crumble if she held her any other way. “I’m glad you’re doing okay,” she murmured against her mother’s hair before pulling away.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? We could have prepared your old room and probably ordered something from the restaurant,” Cora asked as she leaned against the porch railing.
“That’s fine. I’m still full from the last meal I ate,” she assured her sister. “Besides, I wanted it to be a surprise,” she finished.
“Well, it worked,” Andrea chimed in. “A pleasant surprise, though,” she finished, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip of the dark liquid within.
“I think I need one of those,” Jo said, pointing to the glass in her sister’s hand.
“Of course,” Andrea replied. “Let me just go get a glass so you can enjoy this goodness.”
“No, stay.” Jo stopped her movements. “I’ll go get it. I need to bring in my luggage from off the front porch.”
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Cora offered.
