16Chapter 1: Bikinis and Boots
"Mom, do you think I'd look good in a bikini?" Candy Muir turned this way and that in front of the mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door.
Carolyn had anticipated that one day this question would come, but she had imagined it being six or seven years down the line, not coming from the mouth of her eight-year-old daughter.
The little girl was freshly out of her bath, wearing bikini-style underwear, and was about to have her nightgown dropped over her head, but she'd stopped to study her reflection in the mirror.
"Well…" Carolyn began, hoping the right words would come. She wasn't opposed to a little girl wearing a bikini. It was likely less treacherous territory than a shapely teen wearing one, but whatever had put the thought into Candy's head now?
"I think you'd look very nice in any attractive swimsuit. It's all about finding a style that..suits you." She smiled at her own pun.
"I don't think last year's bathing suit is going to fit me." Candy gave voice to her most pressing concern.
"You're probably right. You've grown so much, all your pants and dresses are too short."
"We'd better go shopping." Candy lifted her arms into the air, ready for her nightgown.
"It's still pretty cold outside. I don't think we have to worry about a suit just yet."
"I thought you said we're going to the beach for Spring Break." Candy reminded her mother when her head popped through the neck of her nightgown.
"We are, but–"
"Trina's family is going to the beach and Trina got two new bathing suits. And DeShawn got sunglasses, swimming trunks, and a float that looks like Captain America," Candy continued. "Drea is going to Disney World, and she said their hotel has three different pools, plus a water park."
"We're not going to that kind of beach." Carolyn tried to explain.
"What other kind of beach is there?" She looked at her mother as if the woman was dim. Clearly, in her mind, a beach was a place that was hot, and sunny, and where you got into the water to swim and play.
"It sounds like your friends are going someplace warm, down South. Our beach is in Maine. It's still cold there. There might even be snow."
Candy's face fell. "Why go to the beach if there's snow?" Her tone was full of scorn.
"A beach is beautiful at all times of the year, and if it's too cold to go into the water, you can still walk on the sand, and look for shells and seaweed and rocks."
Candy took the hairbrush her mother was holding and pulled it through her short cap of hair. Her expression was stormy. "But you're supposed to go on vacation for Spring Break. Someplace fun, that you can tell people about. We'll probably have to write a report."
Carolyn had had so much on her mind, that she hadn't been thinking vacation, she'd been thinking opportunity. She expected that having a week off of school would be reason enough for her children to be happy. She hadn't realized that she was failing at her bid for "mother of the year" by not taking the kids on a holiday excursion.
"You've never been to Maine, maybe you'll have a better time and a more exciting adventure than Disney World." Her enthusiasm faded away as she heard her own words.
Candy studied her mother's face, noting her defeated expression. "It's alright Mom, I have a good imagination. I can make something up."
Candy was only in second grade and already the pressure was on to keep up with the Trinas, Deshawns, and Dreas of the world. Her daughter was going to lie to save face.
"Well, I think that you should give Maine a chance! I went there and liked it very much!" she said with forced brightness.
"Yeah, but what's fun for grown-ups is usually boring for kids." Candy explained. Obviously, her mother didn't get it.
Carolyn was going to say more and defend her choice of location for the children's break, but she stopped herself before she began. She'd been a child once. She knew what Candy meant, and how empty her arguments would sound. "I'm sorry you're not excited about it, but I think you might be surprised once you get there," she said and left it at that.
Candy handed the brush back to her mother. "I know you want us to have fun, so I'll try. And I won't say anything to Jonathan about the snow." Candy was doing her best to take it like an adult.
"I appreciate you being open-minded about things." Carolyn hugged her. "Now go get your spelling book and we'll go over those words once more before bed."
She straightened the bathroom, hanging up the towel, removing the hair from the brush, and putting the shampoo away. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. Spring Break had seemed like the perfect time to take the kids to see the town of Schooner Bay and get their reaction to it before she made the decision whether or not to move there.
But Candy had a point, the break might have been better spent doing something exciting, and the trip to Schooner Bay relegated to a weekend when expectations were lower.
She could be shooting her plan in the foot if the kids' idea about the trip was a disappointment before it began. Late March was not going to show the beach or Gull Cottage off to its best advantage. Maybe she could sell the idea to the children as a sort of inverse adventure.
Sure their classmates would be playing on the beach and meeting Disney princesses, but the three of them would visit a possibly haunted cottage, where they would need to light kerosene lamps and the fireplace and where they could explore a house full of strange old things. She knew Jonathan would love looking through the telescope in the master bedroom.
Candy wasn't going to need a bikini; she was going to need a new pair of waterproof boots and a raincoat. Carolyn knew there were adorable boots and raincoats these days for kids, not the boring yellow slickers of her parents' childhood, or the bright plastic neon ones with flowers that she wore as a girl.
She could almost hear Candy giving her "What I Did for Spring Break" report to the class.
"For Spring Break my mother took us to a place no one's ever heard of in Maine. We stayed in a cold dark house and ate soup and crackers three times a day because we couldn't get the stove to stay lit. My brother got sick, my dog got lost, my mother was seeing people who weren't there and I was bored the whole time."
Or maybe Candy would make up a great story…
"For Spring Break we flew to England and met the Queen. She invited us for tea, but at the castle tea means you get to eat cakes and cookies and all kinds of yummy things in the middle of the afternoon. Our dog Scruffy had a great time playing with the Queen's corgis.
We rode all through London on a double-decker bus and a guard let my brother and me try on his big fur hat. Then we met Christopher Robin, Harry Potter, and Paddington Bear."
"Mom?" a little boy's voice broke her reverie. "Mom?"
"I'm in here Jonathan." She poked her head out into the hall. "I was helping Candy finish her bath."
He was standing in the hall, his favorite stuffed toy BunBun dangling by his ears in one hand, and a storybook under his arm.
"Looks like you're ready for bed."
"I need to brush my teeth, but I picked out a book. I figured since we're going to Maine we should read about it. Grandma says this story is about Maine." He held out the book, Blueberries For Sal.
"Oh, that is a good one!" Carolyn recalled enjoying that story when she was a girl. "I'm going to help Candy study her spelling words and then all three of us," then she remembered BunBun, "all four of us will read that story!"
Jonathan gave her a smile and waited while she put a dab of toothpaste on his brush.
Carolyn hadn't considered using storybooks to sell the idea of Maine to the kids, but it was a good one. In her mind she imagined Candy standing in front of her class with a stack of colorful books beside her, enthusiastically sharing about the glorious state of Maine, setting of beloved children's books.
Both children enjoyed the story but while she was tucking Candy in, the girl asked, "Are there really bears there?" with more than a little uncertainty in her voice.
"I'm not sure. I didn't see any. I don't know if bears like the beach," Carolyn admitted.
"I saw bears catching fish on a nature show. They can swim really good. They can even catch seals," Jonathan expounded.
"Mommy said there's going to be snow at the beach. Won't the bears be hibernating?" Candy sounded hopeful.
"Polar bears don't hibernate. They like snow," Jonathan went on.
"There are no polar bears in Maine." Carolyn was fairly certain of that. She made a mental note to search online as to whether there were other bears and if they frequented the beach.
"Let's put the thought of bears to sleep, and think about eating lovely blueberries instead," she suggested. "And tomorrow we're going to do some very special: Spring Break shopping. Everyone will get something new!" She hated resorting to bribery, but she also very much wanted to sleep alone in her bed that night, and not with two small children with bears on their minds.
"I want a shovel," Jonathan declared immediately.
"Better get him a snow shovel," Candy said with a snicker.
Carolyn had to smile to herself. Her daughter was a challenge to be certain, but she was smart as a whip and had a wonderful sense of humor.
"Time for prayers." Carolyn gave a little clap to focus their attention. "Whose turn is it to roll the die?"
"I did it last night," Jonathan raised his hand, forgetting he wasn't in school.
"Ok, then. Candy it's your turn." Carolyn took a wooden cube from the top of the bureau and gave it to her daughter. On each side were printed the words of a bedtime prayer.
"I hope I get the angel one, that's my favorite!" She jostled the cube in her cupped hands and tossed it onto her blanket.
"Not tonight," she said with a sigh handing the cube to her mother.
"It's Father We Thank Thee," Carolyn read. "Do you remember the words?"
She read them off the cube, and the children said them with her, stumbling over a few parts, but doing rather well.
"Father, we thank thee for the night,
For sleep and play and warm sunlight;
For rest and food and loving care,
For family, friends, and those that share
Help us do the things we should,
To be honest, kind, and good."
The cube had been one of Martha's Christmas gifts, and both the children and Carolyn simply loved it. It had become a treasured way to end their day. Even so, Carolyn couldn't help but think of her old Magic 8 ball when they picked up the cube to see which prayer it had landed on.
It felt like sacrilege, but there were days lately when she wished she still had that silly old thing; she'd like to get a second opinion on some of her ideas. What she needed, she thought as she kissed the children and BunBun on their foreheads, was a guardian angel ball. One that would give inspired answers without the snarky attitude her old 8 ball had.
"Goodnight," she whispered, leaving the door six inches open.
Carolyn tried to keep things in perspective, but sometimes it was challenging without a partner to talk things over with. She felt deflated by the thought that she was letting Candy down, even though she realized that in the big picture it wasn't a big deal.
Candy was unlikely to be in therapy when she was 37, recalling the trauma of spending Spring Break of second grade in a cold seaside town rather than waiting in line for hours at Disney World. The big picture was what Carolyn needed to focus on.
Still, she found herself still wide awake and 11:40 PM searching for raincoats and children's bikinis on Amazon.
Jonathan wanted a shovel. She wondered what he planned to dig up. Clams? Treasure? Or did he just want to dig a moat around a sand castle? Knowing Jonathan it was all of the above. He liked to keep busy. If they ended up moving to Schooner Bay, Carolyn knew that Scruffy, the fox terrier, would be thrilled to help Jonathan dig anytime, anywhere for any reason.
Carolyn had gone back and forth in her mind whether to invite Martha, her former housekeeper, to join them for their Spring Break fact-finding mission. She'd decided that she should, Martha would need to know what she was getting herself into if she moved with them to Schooner Bay. Carolyn told herself that she should decide based on what was best for her and the kids, regardless of what Martha chose to do, but if she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she was ready to move out there on her own.
Was it so terrible to want a trusted friend along? She wasn't certain she would decide against Schooner Bay if Martha wasn't on board, but it would certainly seem less attractive.
It turned out that Martha couldn't join them for the entire week; her current job as a senior's aid giver couldn't spare her for that long, but she would take the train up and spend a few days.
Carolyn thought it might be better if she scouted Schooner Bay and Gull Cottage before Martha came out. She could spare her friend the trip if it looked like a no-go. After all, the cottage had hardly been a family-friendly, turn-key property when she'd last seen it. Claymore Gregg, the owner, had assured her upgrades and repairs were in the works, but he'd been vague about what those upgrades were and what the timeline was.
There were a great many details to be worked out, and she was sure there were compromises to be made, but there was a deep, hopeful excitement inside of her that (on good days) pushed all the doubts and worries aside and made her feel warm and glowing.
She reread Mr. Gregg's latest email.
"My Dear Mrs. Muir,
I look forward to seeing you again and sharing my ambitious plans for Gull Cottage. Things are happening that I'm certain you will want to be part of.
I know you appreciate that an historic home, like Gull Cottage, requires skilled handling and the improvements won't be completed overnight, but I think you will be pleased with the plans and the timeline.
I look forward to settling the terms of our agreement and meeting your family. Please remember Gull Cottage is a non-smoking property. Carbon monoxide detectors have been installed, per your request.
Claymore Gregg"
Had it only been six months since she'd been there? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since then. She'd been busy with the children's activities and selling her and Robert's home in Pittsburg.
Her mother-in-law had fallen ill and needed gallbladder surgery, and Carolyn had spent a week in Scranton caring for her after she'd come home from the hospital. The children had remained behind so as not to miss school.
She had dreaded spending that much time with the woman, but the visit was more pleasant than expected. Her mother-in-law, Marjorie, had been extremely grateful, almost humble, that Carolyn had come to her aid. They played some old board and card games and talked about Robert's childhood. Carolyn had even helped the woman sort through two closets; Carolyn doing the lifting and Marjorie the deciding.
Carolyn realized that Robert's mother had been jealous of her taking so much of her son's attention, but not in a hateful way. The woman was shy and lonely and she had treasured her son's love and affection. She didn't dislike Carolyn, but she had been afraid of losing Robert altogether. Then, as fate would have it, they both lost him.
Carolyn tried to understand the older woman's fears and feelings, rather than take offense, or allow her own jealousy to poison her relationship with Marjorie. During their time together she had come to understand that the older Mrs. Muir was struggling with the loss and doing the best she could, just as Carolyn herself was.
The older woman didn't have any other family in the area. She was considering moving to Chicago to live near her sister, but that would mean leaving the home of a lifetime, a monumental change for a woman her age.
Carolyn made more of an effort with her mother-in-law after that. She made a point of calling at least once a week. Sometimes they chatted for 30 minutes or more, other times, the woman seemed distant and tired, but the connection had been made and maintained.
Over the next two weeks, Carolyn attempted to get the children excited about their trip by involving them in packing and planning. Usually, for expediency, she would have taken care of that on her own. There were times it tried her patience and temper but she hoped the investment would pay off.
She wanted the children to love Schooner Bay and Gull Cottage, and she didn't want them to feel bullied into moving there. She wanted them to know that their feelings mattered. That they weren't being dragged, yet again, to a new place and stuffed into a relative's spare room. She wanted them to feel at home, in their home.
She included them in the decision making, but in carefully orchestrated ways. She let Candy choose a raincoat and hat from three Carolyn had found online. Candy nixed all her options and chose The Little Mermaid coat and boots, having told her mother that it would help make up for not going to Disneyworld.
Jonathan also dismissed his mother's choices of rain gear. He wanted a bright yellow slicker like real fishermen wore and black boots with red tops. He also rejected the bright plastic shovel she'd identified and settled on a short-handled steel spade that looked like he could "get some work done with it."
"What about you mom? Don't you need a raincoat and boots?" Candy asked.
"Well, I have a raincoat," she began, but Jonathan contradicted her.
"That's a city raincoat. You need something for when the wind blows and there's sea spray."
"Seaspray?" She wondered where he'd heard that term.
"And you need rubber boots, not those furry ones," he went on.
"Oh, I think my coat and boots will be ok, I mean, we're just going to be there a week."
"Then why do we have to gear up?" Jonathan asked.
"I thought the two of you would be excited to get some new things." It seemed her plan was backfiring.
"Grandpa said I shouldn't bring my dozer to the beach because the salt will make it rust. Can I get a plastic truck?"
"I still need a new swimsuit," Candy reminded her mother.
"Ok, a swimsuit for Candy and a truck for Jonathan, and then it's time for homework."
"And a raincoat for Mommy." Jonathan stood his ground.
"Yes, a raincoat too." She surrendered. Though she didn't want to go to the expense, after all, they might decide NOT to move to Schooner Bay and she wouldn't need a slicker just to stay in Philadelphia. She decided to let the kids pick one out for her, but to not place the order. She could tell them it hadn't arrived on time.
She wasn't going to burden the kids with her financial worries, or the thousand and one doubts she had about moving away from family–or the thousand and two doubts she had about staying.
Carolyn knew it was a long shot, and likely unrealistic, but she hoped the children would see Gull Cottage and fall in love with it the way she had. She wanted some part of this to be simple. She wanted a sign that she was doing the right thing.
The children picked out a bright green coat with a polka dot lining for her. It had a hood and big wooden toggle buttons.
"That looks seaworthy!" she declared as she added it to her online cart.
They selected black rubber boots with bright green soles to match the coat. That, along with Candy's bikini yellow gingham with eyelet trim), Jonathan's truck with three different digging attachments and both children's rain gear added up to over $400, and she still had to buy food, pay for gas, and rooms at the Bed and breakfast. She had the money from the sale of the house in the bank, but she had sworn not to touch a penny of it yet.
She closed the laptop and said, "Shopping is over, time for homework." She tried to keep the tightness in her belly out of her tone.
There were no complaints.
"I can't wait to show Anja my Little Mermaid coat and boots. How long will it take to for them to get here?" Candy asked excitedly.
"I'm not sure. I'll have all the details soon, but now it's time for homework."
"Maybe I'll be a lobster fisherman when I grow up. Grandpa said they eat lobster in Maine," Jonathan said happily.
"Ew, I'm not eating any old lobster. They look like big bugs." Candy made a face. "Mom, we don't have to eat them if we go there, do we?"
"No, don't worry, they have chicken nuggets and pizza in Maine too," she assured her daughter.
"What's this I hear about eating bugs!" Carolyn's mother joined them at the dining table where the children's school backpacks were waiting.
"Candy thinks lobsters are bugs," Jonathan explained.
"If they have all those blueberries, why would they eat a lobster?" Candy reasoned.
"Why indeed?" Carolyn agreed with a smile.
"Oh, are you not excited about your trip?" Grandma Williams asked.
"Oh, we're all very excited, we just finished some very important shopping!" Carolyn wanted to head off any doubts about Maine at the pass. "We're all getting new rain gear!" She crossed her fingers to make up for her lie since only the children were getting new gear.
"I'm getting a bikini!" Candy said with a wide grin that highlighted the gap where one of her front teeth had gone missing.
"Oh, my! Don't you think it's too cool for sunbathing?"
"We wanted to order now when they still have the best selection," Carolyn explained. "Summer will be here before you know it."
"Well, I can hardly think about Summer when Easter hasn't come yet. I think we need a shopping trip for some pretty Spring clothes for Easter Sunday," Grandma suggested.
"Well, I can hardly think about Easter when it's already 8:30 and there's still homework to do." Carolyn reminded them why they'd come to the table.
"Don't let me hold up progress! Let me know when you're in your pajamas and we'll read a book," Grandma promised the kids.
"Grandpa got another storybook about Maine. This one has a moose," Jonathan announced. "We went to the library, after school yesterday."
Candy's eyes got wide at the mention of moose, but she withheld comment and pulled her homework sheet out of her backpack. "Multiplication." She held up the sheet. "We are supposed to find something that comes in ones, and twos and threes and fours," she explained.
"Kind of like a scavenger hunt," Carolyn noted reading over the sheet.
"I don't recall homework being that much fun when I was in school," Grandma said with a shrug and a sigh as she headed out of the room.
Candy tapped the eraser of her pencil on the table as she thought. "Televisions come in ones, and legs come in twos–"
"No, they don't," Jonathan argued. "Scruffy has four legs."
"Yeah, but he has two front legs and two back legs. 2 + 2 = 4. Two twos." Candy said with a grin and began writing on her paper.
"Raincoats come in ones and rain boots come in twos," Jonathan said. "And we bought three pairs of boots, how many is three twos?"
Candy thought a minute. "Six."
Carolyn smiled at how fast Candy was catching on to her multiplication, and the game was helping Jonathan too.
"What if we bought boots for Martha too?" Carolyn prodded.
"Six, seven, eight!" Candy called out.
Carolyn smiled and nodded. "Four sets of two is eight." She wished Robert was here to see how bright their children were. She missed him most at times like this, simple family times. Precious moments that made up a life.
Parents should have been something that came in twos, but too often they weren't. Her children were blessed with positive attitudes; they focused more on what they had than on what they had not.
"What comes in threes?" Candy wondered aloud.
"Those holes in the 'lectric socket." Jonathan pointed to the wall.
"Hands on a clock." Candy pointed higher on the wall.
"Grampa's sneezes." Candy broke into fits of laughter. It was true. Brad Williams always sneezed three times in a row when he sneezed at all.
"Three blind mice," Jonathan added breaking into his own giggles.
"Bears." Candy went on. "And wise men."
"Three strikes and you're out!" Jonathan swung his arm like an umpire.
"And bases come in fours." Candy held her pencil up in the air.
Carolyn loved the looks on their faces when understanding dawned-when their world began to make sense and its patterns were revealed. She remembered being young, when it had been ok not to know all the answers, when the world was full of mysterious possibilities. She wanted to let herself feel that way now and to trust that the answers would come if she let them.
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