The Summer Getaway: A Novel(72)

“I’m Leo’s distant relative. At least that’s what Lillian and her lawyer tell me.”

“We always knew you existed. I’m disappointed you’re not an ornithologist.”

“That’s what your mother said. What is it with you and birds?”

Austin grinned. “Birds are cool, man. But an army guy is okay, too. So you don’t have to worry.”

“I wondered how I was ever going to sleep again.”

Austin laughed. “Now you know.”





twenty



HARLOW WOUND THROUGH the old house toward the music room. Even after two years’ absence, the route was familiar. Lillian’s house had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. Everything welcomed her—the ancient Persian carpets on the floor, the intricate carvings around every door and window, the Tiffany lamps, the antique sideboards, the paintings and the cats she passed along the way.

Just being here made her feel better—as if all her worries and problems were a little more solvable. Maybe it was the energy of the house, or maybe it was being a couple thousand miles from Florida. Either way, she felt lighter and more capable.

The door to the music room stood open. The huge space—with what she’d been told were perfect acoustics—was filled with music stands and chairs, a grand piano, a harp and shelves filled with all kinds of musical instruments. In the far corner were two complete drum sets. Off to the side was a small recording booth. As kids, she and Austin had written and performed a radio show that they’d burned onto a CD for their parents.

That memory made her smile, as did the sight of her mom flipping through sheet music.

Harlow couldn’t speak. An unexpected flood of emotions froze her in place. Longing and love filled her, along with shame and confusion as she thought about the last thing she’d said to her mother. She’d been so selfish—telling her she didn’t care if her mother couldn’t afford to keep the house and basically disinviting her from her wedding.

She must have made a noise, because her mom turned. Robyn’s eyes widened as she smiled with obvious love and delight.

“You’re here!” She hurried toward Harlow, arms open wide.

Harlow flung herself at her mom, needing to feel the familiar, comforting embrace. They hung on to each other longer than usual. Harlow let herself breathe in the feeling of being loved and cared for.

“How was the drive? Did you take turns?” Her mom drew back and looked at her, eyes wide with concern. “Sweetie, are you all right?”

“Better now,” she managed.

“You’ve lost a little weight. Are you eating enough?”

“I haven’t been very hungry.”

Her mother placed a hand against her forehead—an instinctive, maternal gesture that made Harlow laugh.

“I’m not sick, Mom. Just dealing with a bunch of crap.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, but let’s go see Lillian first. I’m feeling better now that I’m here.”

“The house has that effect on people.” Her mother hugged her again. “Your great-great-aunt should be dozing on her balcony about now. However beautiful you remember the view being, it’s even better in person.”

They linked arms and walked toward the stairs.

“I’ve been doing a little inventory,” her mother said. “There are more treasures than I realized. I found a Picasso in the laundry room.”

“Oh, no. Not that weird half-face painting. I just thought it was quirky. It’s a Picasso?”

“I’m pretty sure. I’m getting together a list of the more important paintings. At least the ones I can identify. Lillian and I have been talking about donating them to different museums.”

They went downstairs. Harlow paused when she saw the chair lift.

“She’s using this?”

“Yes, and it’s a relief. She’s not getting younger. I like knowing she’s not trying to climb the stairs every day.”

Changes, Harlow thought, knowing they were inevitable but often unwelcome.

“But she’s feeling all right?”

Her mother smiled reassuringly. “As spry and sharp as ever.”

“Good.” Harlow thought about the other big change in the house. “How long has Mason been here?”

“At least a month. He moved in before I got here.”

“He just moved in? He’s mooching off Aunt Lillian?”

Robyn looked at her. “Lillian invited him. He’s part of Leo’s family, and this is going to be his house. She’s been after him for years to come live here. He finally said yes.”

Which sounded reasonable, but Harlow didn’t like it. Still, she’d learned something about jumping to conclusions over the past couple of weeks.

They walked into Lillian’s sitting room, then out onto the balcony. She turned from the view of the ocean to Lillian.

Her great-great-aunt sat on a chaise, a blanket pulled up to her waist. She seemed smaller than the last time Harlow had seen her. Her white hair was more wispy. But her blue eyes were just as focused, and she beamed with delight when she saw Harlow.

“You made it! My darling Harlow. You’re more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”