Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(96)

She reached up to wipe away the last of her tears. “And each day,” she said, looking out at the endless sea, “I’ll remember you.”



THE SUN WAS setting on an emotional day. Hope was asleep in her crib. The canary was back in his cage. All the debris had been swept and the windows were free of shutters. Cara felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known since Hurricane Irma threatened the Atlantic.

The three Rutledge women sat together under the pergola, all in their pajamas, sipping wine, finding comfort in one another’s presence. It was a typical post-storm night. The humidity had blown off and the sky burst with unusual brilliance. Lovie had always claimed it was God’s way of reassuring them that all was well.

They did what women have done since the days of hunters and gatherers. They shared their stories, their fears and triumphs, finding both solace and support in the process. Julia spoke of the exchange with Palmer in front of the portrait of Stratton. Linnea told Cara of her decision to go to California and how that had sparked her father’s fury. Finally, Cara confessed the depth of her feelings for David. There was laughter amid the tears, too. Especially when Cara described David’s log house in North Carolina.

“Shades of Pemberley?” Linnea teased.

So much has happened, Cara thought. It would take days, weeks, to sort things out. Foremost on her mind, however, was her brother. No one had heard from Palmer since he’d rushed out of the house into the storm. The reports of the flooding in Charleston were alarming, but Julia had remained stoic, praying, convinced Palmer was all right. Cara never allowed such things to chance, however. She’d called all the hospitals and the police, but no one had seen him.

Cara asked, “Julia, have you reached Palmer yet?”

She nodded pensively. “Finally.”

“For heaven’s sake! Why didn’t you tell us?” Cara asked, anger rising in her chest. “We’ve all been so worried. Where is he?”

“Forgive me for not telling you. I only just talked to him, and I’ve been sitting here in a stew, trying to figure out what I’m going to do next. I was going to tell you.”

“When?” Cara blurted.

“Mama, tell us now,” Linnea demanded, sitting up in her chair. “Where is he?”

“He’s at the hospital,” she said in a tone of disbelief.

Cara felt alarm. “Is he hurt?”

“No, no,” Julia said in a rush. “In the psych hospital. With Cooper.”

Cara was astonished.

“With Cooper?” Linnea asked, worry ringing in her voice. “Is everything okay? Is that good for Cooper?”

“Yes,” Julia said with reassurance. She swallowed and took a breath. “He went to apologize. He’s been talking with Cooper. Making peace somehow.”

There followed a stunned silence.

Cara was much relieved. Then she knew a moment of pride in her brother. It washed over her, sweeping away all the resentment lingering from the last exchange.

“You see why I needed to digest that before I told you. I needed to know my own mind, my own heart.” Julia spoke levelly, without apology.

“Mama, I’m so happy,” Linnea said, and came over to the settee to rest her head on Julia’s shoulder.

Cara was still peeved that Julia hadn’t told them instantly, but that was overcome by her pleasure at the outcome and seeing the new bond established between mother and daughter. She was glad she hadn’t charged off and started a row. Emotions still ran high and they needed to be supportive now, not combative. She thought of her brother, and wondered how he’d managed to fight his way through the raging floodwaters to reach the hospital. His determination was staggering. It gave her hope to contemplate the implications.

“This is important,” Cara said, sitting up.

Julia and Linnea, interrupted, looked up.

“He did it!” Cara said. When the two women stared back at her uncomprehendingly, she added, “He broke the cycle. Thank God.”

“I couldn’t have stayed under the same circumstances,” said Julia with conviction.

Cara saw the new strength in Julia’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have either.” Then she smiled. “But look at you! You stood your ground. You can’t know how proud I am of you.”

“Me?” Julia asked. “I only did what any mother would do.”

“No,” Cara said, and it near broke her heart to say it. “Not every mother. My mother didn’t.”

Julia looked stunned. “Lovie?”

Linnea lifted her head, listening, her gaze on Cara.

“You broke a cycle too,” Cara said to Julia.

“I don’t understand.”

Cara took a sip of her wine and set the wineglass on the table. She shifted to a comfortable spot and crossed her legs. This story would take strength to tell.

“I was a little younger than you, Linnea,” she began. “Just eighteen. I was telling my father I wanted to go to Boston University. He said I couldn’t go.” She glanced up at Linnea. “It went very much like what you experienced. Only my father was crueler. Harsher.” She glanced away in shame. “When I close my eyes, I can still see his belt flying in the air, feel the snap of leather like a bullwhip.”

“He beat you?” Linnea blurted in a shocked whisper.