I had not told Pat about the lighthouse.
I would also not tell Pat about the lighthouse until I’d actually bought it.
It was sneaky and thus wrong.
But he was Pat. His wife, Kathy, was my best friend. And he was my dead husband’s oldest son, he was a lot like his father and he was definitely like my big brother.
In other words, if I let him, he could get to me.
“Things are great. Have you been to Maine?” I asked then went on immediately, “It’s beautiful. Totally amazing.”
“Yeah. Kathy and I did a whale watching thing before the hellions were born.”
I knew that.
Kathy had told me.
And the hellions, officially my step grandchildren, Verity and Dexter, were not hellions at all.
They were now nineteen (nearly twenty) and seventeen, respectively. Verity was currently utilizing a full academic scholarship at Yale (which was close, another good thing about Maine, because Verity and I were super close—it was almost as traumatic for me when she went away to school as it was for her parents), and Dexter was considering Harvard, but only to annoy his big sister. He’d end up at Yale too.
“I should do a whale watching tour,” I murmured, thinking that would be fabulous because it would just be fabulous but also because it was highly doubtful I’d run into a certain someone if I did it.
“Yeah, you should,” Pat replied. “Listen, when are you coming home? The house is getting some interest and the realtor doesn’t think it’s going to stay on the market very long. We’ll need you here for the sale.”
I felt my back get straight as my eyes drifted to the fireplace because this shocked me.
A fifteen-thousand-square-foot house that had been on the market for less than a month was getting interest?
It was listed for six and a half million dollars.
How could it be getting interest? Or, I should say, the kind of interest that would lead to a quick sale?
“Cady, honey?” Pat called gently.
“I didn’t . . .” I cleared my throat and looked at the lovely blue and white paisley of the comforter cover. “I didn’t think it would go that fast.”
“There are rich people who need houses too, Cady,” Pat said on a careful tease.
“Right,” I mumbled then spoke up. “Are you sure Kathy and you don’t want it?”
“Soon-to-be empty-nesters bumbling around in fifteen-thousand square feet? I don’t think so.”
“What about Mike and Pam?” I asked after Patrick’s second son and his wife (Pam being my other best friend). “Their kids are all home.”
And they were, there were three of them and they were younger.
“We already had the family discussion, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Mike and Pam and the kids hate to see it go but they don’t want it. And Daly and Shannon don’t want it either.” There was a brief pause before he said, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay there?”
“Patrick didn’t give me that choice,” I reminded him and took a sip of wine.
Not that I wanted to stay there. Me alone in that huge house with nothing but memories to keep me company?
Absolutely not.
“I know he put that in his will, Cady, but maybe we can talk to the attorneys. Find a way around that.”
“Is it because you want the family home to stay in the family?” I asked carefully.
“I grew up there. I fought like crazy with my brothers there, even though I loved them like crazy too. We lost our mom there. Dad found you and we had good times there. Holidays. Those birthday parties you’re so good at giving. Game nights. Your ridiculous slumber parties with our grown women that we guys definitely had to panty raid, so we did. But the family is the family. Dad and you, me and Kath and the kids, Mike and Pam and their kids, Daly and Shannon and their brood. That’s the family. The house is just a house. But if you wanted to keep it, we’d find a way.”
And find a way to keep me close to home so I wouldn’t get my heart pulled out of my chest, twisted to mush and discarded like trash.
I drew in breath before I said, “Your father wanted me to move on, I need to move on, Pat.”
“Yes, but how?”
I didn’t answer that. I took a sip of wine.
“Cady.” His voice was sharper.
Definitely like his father.
Or my big brother.
“That picture is coming clearer,” I told him vaguely.
“You gonna show it to me?” he asked.
“When the time is right.”
“Dammit, Cady,” he bit off.
“Pat, he’s been gone two months and six days. Give me time,” I whispered.
Pat said nothing for a while.
Then he said, “I don’t like this.”
“You’ve made that clear, sweetheart,” I said quietly.
He had. Kathy had. Mike. Pam. Daly. Shannon. Even Verity, Dexter, Riley, Ellie, Melanie, Corbin and Bea had, and Melanie was only seven years old.
They wanted me home.
In Denver.
“If you need to find your way, you should do it with your family.”
They weren’t my family.
They were Patrick’s.
“You know I love you,” I said softly.
“Yes, I know. And Kath knows. Verity. Dex. I could go on but I won’t. What I’ll do is say we love you too. Dad’s gone and we all lost him. We all miss him. And trust me, because we’re all here and you’re there, I know it’s easier to grieve when you’re with family.”
“To get back to our original discussion,” I changed the subject badly, “Kath has my power of attorney. If the house sells—”
“If the house sells,” Pat interrupted me, “then the stuff in it needs to be auctioned off.”
“And I went through everything with Kath, Pam and Shannon before I left, so they know everything that I haven’t put aside is good to go.”
“I think with this break, you should come home and have another look. Kath tells me you barely put anything aside.”
“None of it, as you know, is Patrick.”
Again he said nothing but this time he stuck with that.
“I’m doing what your father wanted, Pat,” I reminded him.
“I’m not sure he was in his right mind when he shared what he wanted, Cady,” Pat returned.
“You know that isn’t true,” I chided gently. “You know he’d been planning this for years.”
And again, Pat was silent.
“I need to do this, Pat. For your dad.”
“If the place sells, you need to come home.”
“Kath has my power—”
“When we say goodbye to that house, Cady, we’ll want you home.”
It was my turn to be silent.
“Are we agreed on that?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good,” he said and it sounded almost like a grunt.
I nearly grinned.
Instead I took another sip of wine.
“I’ll keep you informed with how the sale is going,” he promised.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” I replied.
“And Kath wouldn’t mind hearing from you,” he shared with me.
That surprised me.
“I called her just yesterday.”
“She’s used to talking to you every day, and seeing you nearly every day. So maybe think on that.”
I closed my eyes.
We were thick as thieves, Kath and me. Pam and me. Heck, Shannon was my third best friend.
The rest of the family would miss me. But it would hit Kath, Pam and Shannon hard, and I knew this because if any of them went away, I’d be devastated.
And I was because I was going away.
I just couldn’t think about that.
“I’ll give her a call a bit later,” I told him.
“Appreciated.”
“Okay, then, I have a camembert bleeding here and—”
“I know you’re going to see him.”
I shut my mouth.
Pat didn’t.
“I know you’re going to try to see them and I’ll just put my two cents in here to say neither of them is worth it, Cady. They both turned their backs on you. That one, that cop, what he did to you—”