Family Reunion Nancy Thayer (summer reads .txt) 📖

that means you’ll need a home base in Boston. And childcare in the spring semester.”

“Oh, Gram,” Ari cried. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m a mess!”

“You’re not a mess,” Eleanor said. “But you are in a mess, for sure. I’ll help you. I’m not saying don’t worry, because you should worry, or at least make a plan, but I’ll help you. I’m going to invite your parents and your uncle here for a meeting.”

“But you don’t know where Mother is!”

“No. But I can text her. Or email her. I’ll work it out.”

Ari turned into the drive and cut the engine. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “I’m so scared,” she whispered.

“Yes, I know,” Eleanor told her. She patted Ari’s back gently. “You’ll be fine. Right now you need to get some sleep.”

—

Monday, after Ari had left for camp, Silas knocked on Eleanor’s kitchen door. She knew he was coming. He’d promised to bring pastries from the Sconset Market. She’d promised to make fresh coffee.

“Good God, but this is an old white elephant, isn’t it?” Silas remarked as they settled on the deck.

“It was in my grandmother’s family,” Eleanor said.

“And you live here year-round? How do you stay warm in the winter?”

“Oh, I manage. I keep space heaters in my bedroom and bathroom. Often, I make a fire in the living room, but I’ll confess lugging in the wood and kneeling down to put it on the grate is becoming a bit of a trial.”

“I’m sure. I had one of those gas-fired fake wood things installed in my fireplace. Works like a dream. And I don’t have to clean out the ashes.”

Eleanor was silent, thinking. “Did my children put you up to this?”

Silas looked puzzled. “Up to what?”

“Oh, Silas, they want me to sell this house.”

“And you don’t want to because…”

Eleanor made a little humph noise. “Because they’re pretending I’m too old to keep it up, too old to live here alone. I know it’s because they want the money.”

Silas scanned the roofline. “The trim needs a new coat of paint.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You wouldn’t have to give them all the money. You could buy a house in town.”

“I never thought of that,” Eleanor said. “I thought it was straight into the retirement home with me and stewed peas and mystery meat for the rest of my life.”

Silas laughed. “You’re far too young for that. If you lived in town, it would be easier to get to the library, to the grocery store, to the bank. You know I sold our house when Maxine died. It was hard, at first. Frightening, even. But now I’m delighted with my house in town.”

Eleanor was silent, thinking. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “My granddaughter’s going to have a baby. By herself.”

“Go on,” Silas said.

“She’s not quite three months pregnant, so she hasn’t really come to her senses about it all. The father of the child wants nothing to do with it or her. Her parents are going through a rough patch, and my daughter never did care much for babies.”

“So you think Ari might live with you?”

“She might.”

Silas cleared his throat. He looked up and down the bluff edge, at the bluff path leading past all the glorious summer gardens and trophy houses.

He asked, “How many of these houses are occupied in the winter?”

“Well, none,” Eleanor told him, feeling defensive. “But the village has quite a few year-round residents.”

“Any young people?”

Eleanor leaned forward. “Silas Stover, are you trying to aggravate me? Because it’s working.”

Silas chuckled. The sound woke something almost forgotten inside her. That baritone, satisfying laugh…She leaned back in her chair. “Oh, Silas, isn’t it hard, deciding to sell a house that’s been in the family for five generations?”

“Not if you look toward the future,” Silas said. “It seems to me that your children aren’t as enchanted with this house or this island. That happens. It happened to me. So there they are, off into their future, which doesn’t include coming to this house for the beautiful summer months. The thing is, what about your future? You’re an active, lovely, smart woman. Whether you help your granddaughter when her baby comes is one thing, but you know she’s not going to live with you forever. You wouldn’t want that. She certainly wouldn’t want that. So how do you see your future? You’ve got a good fifteen or twenty years before you toddle off into assisted living.”

“I love this island,” Eleanor said quietly.

“I understand. So do I.” Silas shifted in his chair. “And you know, I’m seeing more of it than I ever knew was there. I’ve joined a birding group and we go to the damnedest places, secret hollows and hidden forests. I take a lot of the Maria Mitchell science tours. It’s good for my health, the walking. Good for my soul, too.”

“My soul is fine,” Eleanor snapped.

Silas laughed heartily.

That was a wonderful sound, Eleanor thought. “Silas, how much did you pay for your house on Fair Street?”

He named a sum that seemed both exorbitant, when compared with houses in the real world, and manageable, compared with what Eleanor thought she could get for this house.

“I don’t know,” she mused. “I have so much stuff in my house. It would take me a decade to sort through it all.”

“There are special estate companies that will look through your stuff and give you an estimate for it all and come pack it up and take it away,” Silas said. “That’s what I did.”

“My children might want some of it…” Eleanor said weakly.

“Let them have first choice,” Silas said.

Eleanor stood up and paced along the deck. “This view. This endless blue sea.”

“Yes. It’s unique. It’s awe-inspiring. But you know, Eleanor, grandchildren and great-grandchildren are awe-inspiring, too.”

Eleanor returned to her chair. “Why, Silas, you’re a sentimentalist. I never would have dreamed of you that way.”

“Nope. Not sentimental. I speak the truth, madam.”

Eleanor felt something move inside her, an iceberg melting, a clear stream flowing. She felt cool and clear.

She fought it off, this