The Beach Book Bundle: 3 Novels for Summer Reading: Breathing Lessons, The Alphabet Sisters, Firefly Summer (48 page)

She dialed. A cross-sounding voice answered. “Valley View Motel.”

It was Carrie. Bett hung up immediately.

H
ello? Hello?” Carrie waited a moment, then hung up. People were so rude. At least the ringing phone had got her out of the kitchen, though, before she exploded at her grandmother in front of everyone. Did Lola have any idea how hard it had been for the florist to find all those twigs?

She waited a moment to see if the caller rang back, but the phone stayed quiet. It had probably been another one of Lola’s mad friends ringing up to RSVP at the last minute.

“It’s not just going to be a room full of old people reminiscing, is it, Lola?” Carrie had asked her several days before. “There seem to be a lot of croaky old voices ringing up.”

“All human life will be represented, Carrie, my dear. And there’ll be some reminiscing, some entertainment, a little bit of this and a little bit of that.”

“A little bit of what?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Lola, please. You’re the one who is supposed to get a surprise at your party, not us. What are you planning?”

“Carrie, how many times do I have to ask you to please treat me with adoration and respect. I’m not telling. All you have to do is set up the room exactly as I’ve outlined, follow the running order we have discussed, and then leave the rest to me.”

“You’re not going to tell me why Frank from the electrical hire shop was here yesterday, are you? Or what was in that big box I saw him carrying in?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Have you finished your table settings yet, then? Are you still expecting about sixty people?”

“More like seventy now, I think. All sorts of people have told me they’d love to come. Oh, and I also invited that quiet Englishman who’s staying in room two. He said he’d be delighted to attend. Actually, I think he said he’d be charmed to attend. Have you spoken to him yet? He has the most beautiful manners.”

Right then Carrie didn’t care if that Englishman was the most well-mannered man in history. Honestly, her grandmother drove her
crazy
sometimes. “Lola, you have to tell me these things. That changes everything. All the catering arrangements, everything.”

“Only slightly. Really, Carrie, you have to learn to relax or you’ll give yourself high blood pressure.”

“It is you and this party and this never-ending guest list that will give me high blood pressure. What are we supposed to feed these extra people?”

“Oh, they won’t mind if they have to share their meals.”

“I mind, though. If I’m trying to get more business into the motel, then every occasion like this is a chance to make an impression. And I won’t make a good impression if people don’t get enough to eat at a birthday party for one of the owners.”

“I’m not an owner anymore. I’m just the matriarch these days.”

Carrie had given in and started to laugh. “You’re just a law unto yourself, that’s what you are.”

It had been funny then, but it wasn’t funny now. Nothing was funny now. Carrie took her pulse, felt her heart beating. Yes, it was definitely fast. And no wonder, all the pressure she was under. She heard laughing and looked out in time to see Lola, Anna, and Ellen head over to Anna’s favorite room, number seven. She fought off a little feeling of hurt, picked up her car keys, and scribbled a quick note to her mother. She was going back into town for a long, slow cup of coffee.

Chapter Four

A
t last, at last, at last.” Lola held Bett tight in another hug, then stepped back to look at her again, a wide smile on her face. She had been sitting waiting on a chair at the front of the motel for the past hour. “You had me worried sick. I thought I’d have to start the party without you.”

Bett was surprised to find herself fighting tears. “As if I’d let the birthday girl down.” Another hug. “Let me look at you.” Bett took a step back, still holding Lola’s hands. She’d felt bones under Lola’s pink clothing. “You’ve lost weight, Lola.”

Lola was looking at her just as closely. “So have you. Not too much, thank God. I wouldn’t know you without your curves.” She tucked a bit of hair behind Bett’s ears. “And your eyes are as beautiful as ever, your cheeks as rosy, and I like that color in your hair. What’s it called? Chestnut brown?”

“I don’t know what it’s called. It’s my own color.”

“Is there such a thing? Imagine that.”

Bett glanced around her. “Are the—”

“Others here? No darling. I poisoned them all this morning. I decided it would make for a much more peaceful life if you and I had the place to ourselves.”

The sound of the front door opening halted any more questions. Bett looked up as her mother and father came out toward her. “Bett! Welcome home!” She was enfolded in hugs from another two sets of arms.

An hour later, her head was spinning with news of the motel, of the Valley, of the party that night. There had been no sign of Anna or Carrie yet, and no mention of them. Her parents hadn’t asked her too many questions about her life in London either. They knew some of it, of course, from her letters and phone calls, so it wasn’t as if she had crawled in from the wilderness. But she had just got back from three years overseas. Shouldn’t they have had more questions?

Lola was sitting on the sidelines, watching beady-eyed. Grasping a break in the conversation, she stood up with a groan loud enough to make them all look at her, then crossed to Bett and tucked her hand into her arm. “Now, come on, Bett, I’ll help you unpack. And while we do that, I want you to tell me every little thing you’ve been doing while you’ve been away.”

Lola was like a mind reader sometimes. “You know it all. It was in my letters.”

Lola steered her out of the kitchen. “They were a tissue of lies. I know that, and you know that. Come on, darling. You can tell me the truth now. By the way, I’ve organized room six for you, your favorite.”

Lola and the three girls had been sleeping in the motel rooms rather than the manager’s quarters ever since the family first moved in, fifteen years before. It had been Lola’s idea. She’d decided it was better to use the rooms during quiet times, rather than have them lie idle and unused, getting all musty.

As they walked out into the sunshine, Bett noticed quite a few rooms had a car parked in front of them. “It’s busy enough for this time of year.”

“Not bad, actually. Carrie has been working hard. Mostly one-nighters, though room two has been here for two weeks now. An English fellow. He’s coming along tonight, actually. I called on him last week, had a very nice chat. He’s researching a book or something fascinating like that. I’m dying to find out more about it.”

Bett kept her mouth shut. Many times in the past her mother had asked Lola not to call on the guests like that, but she was obviously still ignoring her. It would be a bit alarming, Bett supposed, to be booked into a motel room and have a heavily made-up old lady carrying a clinking gin and tonic appear at your door asking for your life story.

With a flourish, Lola produced the key to number six. “Here you are, darling. All yours once again. I actually had to move a couple out that Carrie had accidentally booked in. I said there might be a problem with a nest of huntsman spiders, and they seemed happy enough to move.”

“Move rooms or move motels?”

“Motels, now I think of it. Now, be sure to make yourself at home. If your luck holds and we don’t get many guests, you might be able to stay put the whole time you’re here. You do have neighbors, though.”

“Neighbors?”

The door to number seven beside them opened and Anna and Ellen came out. Bett’s stomach flipped as she saw them for the first time in years. Anna looked as fresh and elegant as ever, immaculately made-up, wearing a white shift dress that showed off her toned, brown body. Ellen was in a pale blue sundress, holding a straw hat. Bett stood up a little straighter, suddenly conscious of her own creased T-shirt and makeup-free face.

Lola coughed politely. “Anna Quinlan, may I introduce your sister, Bett Quinlan. Bett Quinlan, this is Anna, your older sister.”

“Hello, Anna.”

“Hello, Bett.”

“And this is Ellen,” Lola continued. “You remember Ellen.”

Bett looked down at the little girl, feeling Anna’s eyes boring into her. Ellen was lovely, a mini version of Anna, with big eyes, straight dark hair, and olive skin. Bett glanced at the scar on her cheek, keeping a big smile on her face. Lola had warned her Anna was extremely sensitive about people’s reactions to Ellen’s scar. She leaned down. “Hello, Ellen.”

Ellen pressed close against Anna and wouldn’t look up.

“Ellen, this is Bett, your auntie. My sister.”

Ellen still didn’t look at her. Anna gave Bett a tight smile, a half shrug, as if to apologize.

Bett looked behind her, waiting for Glenn to emerge as well. Anna noticed.

“He’s not here,” she said.

Bett felt the rush of color into her face. Had Anna kept him away because of her? Because of the things she’d said about him? Oh, God. Talk about things getting off to a bad start. “Look, he’s—” Very welcome to be here, too, she’d been about to say.

“Very busy at work,” Anna said smoothly. “He wasn’t able to get away.”

Bett relaxed slightly. “Oh. I see.”

Anna spoke again, her voice measured, in control. “So how was your flight?”

“Fine. Long. But I had a night’s stopover in Singapore, so I’m not too exhausted. And you? Did you drive down or fly?”

“We flew. Took the ten o’clock this morning.”

Lola stepped in, shaking her head. “Well, it’s a credit to the both of you. Three years’ separation and look at the conversation you manage to strike up.”

“Lola, please.” Anna and Bett turned to her and spoke as one.

“Mum.” Ellen’s voice was little more than a whisper, as she started pulling at her mother’s hand.

Anna leaned down, stroking her daughter’s hair from her face. “You’re hungry, I know. Come on, darling. We’ll go and see what Grandma has for you. See you later, Bett.”

“Yes, see you, Anna. See you, Ellen.”

As they walked away toward the kitchen, Lola was half laughing, half sighing. “You’ll be the death of me. If that was the best you and Anna could do, then God knows what you’ll do with Carrie. Lunge at her with a knife, probably.”

“Lola, sorry, but you have to stop all these cracks. This isn’t some little tiff between us. This is big, serious stuff. Grown-up stuff.”

“Nonsense. It’s been the world’s most ridiculous feud. Over Matthew, of all people.”

“It wasn’t just over Matthew. It was—”

“What?”

“All sorts of things.” Bett wasn’t ready for this. She tried to find the words. “Maybe we were unnaturally close all our lives, you know, with the three of us moving so much and the whole Alphabet Sisters thing.”

“So now you’re blaming me?”

“Lola, of course I’m not blaming you. I loved the Alpha-bet Sisters, until—” She stopped short. Was that actually the truth? She grabbed her grandmother’s arm. “Can we please not talk about it right now? Just for a little while? Can you and I go inside and talk about normal things, like terrible gossip from the charity shop or the party tonight or—”

“In a moment.” Lola had heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. “Carrie has just arrived back, and I want you to meet her. Now.”

“No.” To her own astonishment, Bett leaped inside and shut the door of the room.

A second later it opened, and Lola came in. “What happened to you in London? Have you been regressing rather than aging? Don’t tell me you were about to hide under the bed?” Bett had spent hours of her childhood under the bed. Looking for peace, she had insisted. Hiding from work, Lola had preferred to put it. “I’m sure you weren’t this cowardly before you went away.”

“I wasn’t. And I wasn’t this cowardly while I was away.”

“So you admit you’re being cowardly now, wanting to hide under the bed? Did I tell you in any of my letters that your mother found some rope under one of the beds last year? Several meters of it, imagine. We had quite a discussion about what that might have been used for. I have to say I think your mother was shocked.”

Bett glared at her, trying not to laugh. “You’re the equivalent of that white noise that armies use to confound their enemies, aren’t you? When they play noise at such a volume and for so long that the enemy gives in eventually.”

“Enemy? You’re not my enemy. You’re one of my dearest girls in the world. Now, come and meet another of my dearest girls. Her name’s Carrie, and she’s your sister.”

At first there were fifty meters between them. Then forty. Thirty.

“Good afternoon, Carrie,” Lola called as they reached ten meters.

“Hello, Lola.”

“Carrie, may I introduce your sister?”

“Stop it, Lola,” Bett muttered. She forced herself to look directly at Carrie, taking in the blonde curls, the petite figure, dressed in jeans and T-shirt, an inch of flat brown belly showing, casual, stylish, neat. In her own mind she ballooned to Michelin Man proportions, her skirt and T-shirt turning supersize, her cheeks expanding like balloons, getting redder and redder.…

Lola interrupted her train of thought. “But of course neither of you need any introductions. Say hello, girls.”

“Hello, Carrie.”

“Hello, Bett.”

“How was your flight?”

“Good thanks. Long.” She swallowed. “How is—” she couldn’t say Matthew’s name. She tried again. “How is work?”

A look of relief crossed Carrie’s face, Bett was sure of it. Perhaps Carrie didn’t want to talk about Matthew yet either. “Fine. We’re busy enough for this time of year.”

Lola was beaming between them, for all the world like a country matchmaker.

Then there seemed to be nothing else to say. “I’d better finish getting ready for the party, then,” Carrie said briskly.

“Do you need any help?” Bett forced out the words.

“No,” Carrie answered too quickly.

“Are you sure about that, Carrie?” Lola’s voice was firm.

“It’s under control, thanks, Lola. See you, Bett.”

“See you, Carrie.” They stood silently as Carrie walked through the back door of the kitchen.

“Well, that went okay,” Bett said, once she was out of sight.

“Gloriously. Imagine that, all those years of rancor swept away in one easy and honest conversation. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Lola. You taught us that yourself,” Bett said, stung. She thought it had gone okay. Better than she’d expected, anyway.

“Well, it’s a start, at least,” Lola said. “Carrie probably does need help with the party, by the way, if you truly want to give her a hand.”

“Um, no. I might unpack, I think. Relax a little before the party. I’ve been very busy getting organized to come back.” A wave of tiredness and emotion hit her as they walked back to her motel room. “Not that anyone in this family seems to care enough about my life to have actually asked what I’ve been doing in London the past few years.”

Lola surprised her with a loud burst of laughter and a kiss on her cheek. “You definitely have regressed. You know you used to be the same at the end of some school days, especially if I dared to have something else I wanted to talk to you about. I promise we will talk about you, my dear Bettsie. We’ll talk about you until we are both bored rigid or blue in the face, whichever event takes place first. But all in good time. Don’t rush things, Bett. Let things happen slowly sometimes.”

Caught out, Bett grinned. “You’re a fine one to talk. The woman who’s summoned us all home like this, forced it to a head.”

“I had to.” Lola decided there was no harm in dropping another hint. “I need the three of you to do something for me.”

Bett stopped at the door to her room. This was the second time Lola had referred to something needing to be done for her. “Lola, what is it? You’re not sick or anything, are you? I mean, you look well.” As much as she could tell. Lola had gone overboard on the makeup that morning. There were smears of red blush like jam stains on each cheek.

“Right now, because you are here, I feel one hundred percent. Patience, Bett. All will be revealed in good time. Now, come on. Let’s get you unpacking and making yourself at home. Haven’t I always said the devil makes work for idle hands?”

“No. Your favorite phrase was that one about too many cooks spoiling the broth. And not counting your chickens before they were hatched. And the one about water under the bridge.”

“I really am a font of wisdom. Now, you unpack while I watch.”

As she opened her case, Bett glanced at Lola. “I thought Anna looked well. And Ellen is very sweet.”

“Anna doesn’t look well. She looks exhausted. And unhappy. Something’s wrong there. And Ellen is a bag of nerves as well. That scar is fading but not as quickly as it should be. The city air is no good for that child. Nor is that psychiatrist she sees every month. Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous in your life, making her go over and over the incident? The child has to move on, put it behind her, get on with life, not go back every four weeks and talk about her feelings. Now, have you had any thoughts about work yet?”

Bett laughed. “Lola, I’ve just arrived.”

“It’s just I had a fascinating conversation with Rebecca Carter last week. You remember Rebecca?”

“Of course.” She and Rebecca had worked side by side as reporters on the
Valley Times
for two years. Until the day Bett had left so suddenly.

“She’s editor now, imagine. Filled with ideas, too. She was so interested to hear you were coming back home and looking for work locally.”