a hand in the general direction of
the exercise machines. "Anyway, your aunt was in very, very, good
physical shape. I've seen her doing that machine over there-"
she pointed to a bench press, "with so many of those big weights
on it, I thought for sure it would collapse and crush her to death.
And you should have seen her on that treadmill! She walked so fast
the thing couldn't hardly keep up with her. No sooner would she
finish with that, she'd take a couple swigs of water and start rowin',
or jumpin' rope" Tina paused and shook her head. "Hard to believe she wasn't strong enough."
"What do you mean?"
"It just seems strange that a woman as physically active as your
aunt couldn't survive that operation, you know? I mean, she was
in here all the time, and when she wasn't in here, she was down at
that office, making deals left and right. Does that sound like the
feeble old lady you saw lying in that bed?" She shook her head, and
then pointed out a window to the backyard, shrouded in darkness.
"Can you see the little guest cottage? Stay there, and I think you'll be pretty cozy. You can come in here to cook or use her computer.
Or jog a few miles."
Darby followed Tina's clicking heels out the back kitchen door,
past the giant computer monitor and across a little expanse of
lawn. The moonlight was even brighter, and by its glow Darby
spotted a neat little garden, then caught a whiff of what smelled
like lavender. She barely remembered the cottage. It had always
been full of yard equipment-rakes, shovels, the lawn mower, and
mulch, and had seemed more like a shed than a living structure.
Tina stooped to adjust a little mat outside the door. She straightened up, yanked open the door, and turned on a light. Darby
stepped inside.
The cottage was bigger and brighter than it appeared. Wide
plank floors painted light blue and whitewashed walls gave it a
light, summery feel. A full-sized iron bed, with a yellow and blue
patterned quilt, anchored the room, with a little white writing desk
nearby. A comfortable armchair on a braided rug took up another
corner. Tucked back through a small door was a tiny bathroom
and kitchenette.
"It's adorable," she said.
Tina smiled. "Lucky she didn't get the chance to turn this into
a gymnasium. Got enough room? It's not exactly what you'd call
spacious."
Darby's bungalow in Mission Beach was larger-but not by
much. "Small spaces suit me. I spent a lot of time on boats when I
was a kid." An image of her mother laughing as she tried to hoist
sails while her father smiled from his vantage point at the tiller
filled her with a sudden sadness, but Tina interrupted the memory.
"I'll get your bag. You must be tuckered out."
Darby nodded. "I am. Tomorrow-"
"Don't think about it now. Get a good night's sleep."
Darby watched as Tina disappeared into the darkness to retrieve her suitcase from Thelma. Sleep was fogging her brain like
mist over the harbor, and yet one fact kept pounding relentlessly.
Jane Farr was dead. Tomorrow, plans would be underway for her
service-whatever form it would take-and before the week's end,
she would be laid to rest. Whatever remained unsaid between the
aunt and niece would stay unsaid. Their relationship, best described as stormy, was over.
I could go back to California tomorrow, Darby thought. There's
nothing binding me here. She was now her aunt's personal representative, but any duties associated with her aunt's estate could be
handled long distance. And the Fairview closing... I could find another broker to take care of it. Jane's dead. I can do what I want.
And yet, as Darby drifted off to sleep a half hour later, she
knew she would remain on Hurricane Harbor until Jane's memorial service. Her aunt had summoned her to Maine, almost from
the grave, as if challenging her to one final power struggle, and
Darby Farr wasn't about to back down.
Donny Pease woke just after dawn on Monday morning. He headed
down the steep
the exercise machines. "Anyway, your aunt was in very, very, good
physical shape. I've seen her doing that machine over there-"
she pointed to a bench press, "with so many of those big weights
on it, I thought for sure it would collapse and crush her to death.
And you should have seen her on that treadmill! She walked so fast
the thing couldn't hardly keep up with her. No sooner would she
finish with that, she'd take a couple swigs of water and start rowin',
or jumpin' rope" Tina paused and shook her head. "Hard to believe she wasn't strong enough."
"What do you mean?"
"It just seems strange that a woman as physically active as your
aunt couldn't survive that operation, you know? I mean, she was
in here all the time, and when she wasn't in here, she was down at
that office, making deals left and right. Does that sound like the
feeble old lady you saw lying in that bed?" She shook her head, and
then pointed out a window to the backyard, shrouded in darkness.
"Can you see the little guest cottage? Stay there, and I think you'll be pretty cozy. You can come in here to cook or use her computer.
Or jog a few miles."
Darby followed Tina's clicking heels out the back kitchen door,
past the giant computer monitor and across a little expanse of
lawn. The moonlight was even brighter, and by its glow Darby
spotted a neat little garden, then caught a whiff of what smelled
like lavender. She barely remembered the cottage. It had always
been full of yard equipment-rakes, shovels, the lawn mower, and
mulch, and had seemed more like a shed than a living structure.
Tina stooped to adjust a little mat outside the door. She straightened up, yanked open the door, and turned on a light. Darby
stepped inside.
The cottage was bigger and brighter than it appeared. Wide
plank floors painted light blue and whitewashed walls gave it a
light, summery feel. A full-sized iron bed, with a yellow and blue
patterned quilt, anchored the room, with a little white writing desk
nearby. A comfortable armchair on a braided rug took up another
corner. Tucked back through a small door was a tiny bathroom
and kitchenette.
"It's adorable," she said.
Tina smiled. "Lucky she didn't get the chance to turn this into
a gymnasium. Got enough room? It's not exactly what you'd call
spacious."
Darby's bungalow in Mission Beach was larger-but not by
much. "Small spaces suit me. I spent a lot of time on boats when I
was a kid." An image of her mother laughing as she tried to hoist
sails while her father smiled from his vantage point at the tiller
filled her with a sudden sadness, but Tina interrupted the memory.
"I'll get your bag. You must be tuckered out."
Darby nodded. "I am. Tomorrow-"
"Don't think about it now. Get a good night's sleep."
Darby watched as Tina disappeared into the darkness to retrieve her suitcase from Thelma. Sleep was fogging her brain like
mist over the harbor, and yet one fact kept pounding relentlessly.
Jane Farr was dead. Tomorrow, plans would be underway for her
service-whatever form it would take-and before the week's end,
she would be laid to rest. Whatever remained unsaid between the
aunt and niece would stay unsaid. Their relationship, best described as stormy, was over.
I could go back to California tomorrow, Darby thought. There's
nothing binding me here. She was now her aunt's personal representative, but any duties associated with her aunt's estate could be
handled long distance. And the Fairview closing... I could find another broker to take care of it. Jane's dead. I can do what I want.
And yet, as Darby drifted off to sleep a half hour later, she
knew she would remain on Hurricane Harbor until Jane's memorial service. Her aunt had summoned her to Maine, almost from
the grave, as if challenging her to one final power struggle, and
Darby Farr wasn't about to back down.
Donny Pease woke just after dawn on Monday morning. He headed
down the steep
Similar Books
