Later, after Simon had left her bag on the luggage rack and her tea on the nightstand and they had said their good nights, Kate curled up under the covers of her bed, the pillows propped up against the headboard creating a perfect backrest. She settled in and opened a novel, but soon closed it as the words blurred together in a haze of exhaustion. She took a long sip of tea, watching the flames dance in the fireplace.
Simon had put her in her favorite bedroom in the house, a suite with a giant four-poster bed and a fireplace on the opposite wall. In a nod to guests who liked modern conveniences, a flat-screen television hung above the fireplace, so one could watch a movie, the fire, or both at the same time. A corner of the room jutted out into an alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides, designed, Kate always believed, to catch the lake breezes on summer days. In the alcove were a small writing desk and a chaise—the perfect spot for reading or just watching the boats come and go in the harbor.
On the other side of the room was a vast walk-in closet—a highly unusual and exotic feature in its day—leading to a bathroom with his and hers vanities, a tile shower, and an enormous claw-foot tub.
The suite was called Hadley’s Suite for its original occupant, Simon and Kate’s grandmother.
When baby Hadley was old enough to move from the nursery into a room of her own, this was where Harrison put her, and this was where she had grown up. This was the room she and her husband Malcolm had used when they had returned to care for Harrison when their own children were grown and starting families of their own. This was where Hadley had retreated to grieve after the two deaths that had shaken her to her very core—first her beloved father, Harrison, and just months later, her devoted husband, Malcolm.
Hadley had taken her last breath in this room, Kate knew. She had been there. Simon had called the families, and they had rushed to Hadley’s side, sitting vigil until the moment came. She slipped into the other world peacefully, even joyfully, surrounded by the living, who were grieving her passing, and the dead, who were rejoicing her homecoming. After embracing her husband and father, Hadley saw her mother hovering near the end of the bed and flew into her arms, both of them crying sweet tears of reunion.
“My darling girl,” her mother repeated, over and over. “My darling girl.”
As Kate snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes, she didn’t know that Hadley was sitting on the bed next to her, stroking her hair. Had Kate not been so exhausted, she might have sensed her grandmother’s presence there and even seen her ghostly shape, somehow translucent and solid at the same time. She might have noticed Hadley’s 1920s-era dress; her unlined, porcelain skin; and her shiny, dark hair.
But as it was, Kate only felt the serenity of having her beloved grandmother watching over her as she drifted off to sleep, as if standing guard against any more unsettling dreams.
“Any dreams last night?” Simon had already set two places at the bar, made coffee, and was flipping an enormous omelet by the time Kate appeared in the morning, Alaska at her heels.
“Nothing,” Kate said as she climbed onto a bar stool. “If you don’t count a rambling and bizarre nightmare about being naked at work.”
Simon snorted.
“I guess they can’t all be glimpses into the lives of dead people,” Kate said, sipping her coffee and looking out the window onto the harbor, where two sailboats, colorful spinnakers unfurled, were languidly floating on the big lake. “You really do have a spectacular view here. I’ve always loved it.”
“I think you should avail yourself of the view for longer than just this weekend,” Simon said. “I’ve been thinking. What if you stayed on for a while?”
“I’d love to,” Kate said. “But I really need to get back home.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were hollow and meaningless. Home to what?
“I suppose you need to get back to work,” Simon said, taking a sip of coffee and eyeing her above the rim.
“I quit my job,” Kate admitted. “Kevin’s liaison with an intern at our office sort of killed my love of the place, you know? A marriage and a career, both obliterated in one evening. That has to be some sort of record.”
“Bastard,” Simon said under his breath.
“I just can’t believe it’s all over,” Kate lamented.
The mention of her husband’s name brought everything back to her, all of it, from the day she met Kevin through that last night at the Tavern when she had confronted her husband and the woman she knew to be his girlfriend.
She met Kevin at the Gazette, their town’s local newspaper. He edited the sports and national news sections, and she wrote features, travel pieces, and editorials.
Kevin had been working at the newspaper for more than a year when Kate was hired. She noticed him immediately, drawn to his warm smile and lingering handshake when they were introduced. Something about the moment when his hand touched hers made her shudder.
“It’s customary for the new kid on the block to buy everyone drinks at the Tavern after their first day on the job,” he informed her when it was nearly quitting time on her first day.
“Really? I didn’t hear about that.” Kate smiled at him. He wasn’t one of the best-looking men she had ever seen, but with his freckled nose and crooked smile, he was attractive in a flawed sort of way. She wondered about him. Did he have a girlfriend, or worse, a wife?
“We’ll convene there at five thirty. Don’t be late. And bring your credit card.”
Kate was nervous, wondering how much of her scant salary she’d have to shell out at the bar that evening. But when she arrived, she was surprised to find Kevin sitting alone at a table.
“I thought . . . ,” she started, looking around and wondering where everyone else was.
“Okay, I made that stuff up about the new kid buying drinks,” Kevin confessed with a grin. “I really wanted to get to know you better, and I wasn’t sure you’d come if it was just the two of us. Will you stay?”
Kate slid into the chair next to him. “Only if you’re buying the drinks,” she said.
“Fair enough,” he said, motioning for the waiter.
Kate smiled. Her new job had just gotten that much more interesting. The conversation between them that evening wound its way from the safe and shallow waters of what Kate might expect on the job, to favorite movies and restaurants, to deeper subjects like their childhoods and transformative college experiences. Kate was fond of saying she had fallen in love with Kevin during that first evening together, somewhere between his hilarious story about a prom night in which his car had ended up at the bottom of the Sandy River and her tale of a college escapade in which she and her friends had stolen lawn ornaments from all over town—plastic deer and ducks and flamingos—and planted them in her then-boyfriend’s front lawn. But in her heart, Kate knew she had fallen in love with Kevin the moment she saw him sitting alone at the table. There was just something about the sight of him there, waiting for her. As though he had been waiting his whole life for her to walk through the door. She confessed it to Simon the next day.
“I saw him and instantly knew I was going to marry him,” she’d sighed on the phone to her cousin. “I’ve just met my future husband. Mark my words.”