“It was so long ago, though,” Katie said. “I can see some of the older folks in town remembering all of this, but some of the attitudes I’ve felt have been from people closer to my age.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, especially for small town gossip. Some stories never die,” James added.
“She has to go,” Tom said. “I don't care if she's dying. Just because she feels the need to share her deathbed confession, it’s not fair to any of us to relive her cruelty. She can't be part of our lives.”
“She's paying for everything,” James pointed out. “The renovations, Pop's care, our operating expenses. We’re inheriting two million dollars when she dies.”
“Blood money.”
“Money we need,” Dani said quietly. “Without it, we lose the inn. Pop goes to a state facility instead of the nice place he’s at now. We all go back to our failed lives.”
The truth of it sat heavy between them. They were trapped by Lillian's money just as their parents had been trapped by the lack of it.
Kate's phone rang. The facility.
“Miss Perkins? Your father's having a difficult day. I thought you might stop by?”
“I'll be right there.”
She stood to leave, but Tom stopped her. “We're coming with you.”
“All of us?”
Tom grabbed his keys. “We're family. If there’s bad news to be had, the four of us need to deal with it. I’ll drive.”
The drive to Wells was quiet, Tom's BMW moved slowly through the late morning traffic. At the facility, they found Pop in the garden, sitting on a bench, fully dressed but wearing two different shoes. A nurse tried to calm him with little success.
He looked up when they approached, his face cycling through confusion before settling on vague recognition.
“I know you,” he said to the group.
“We're your children, Pop,” James said gently.
“I don't have children. I have boats.” He looked pleased with himself, as if he'd solved a difficult puzzle. “Three boats. The Sarah Elizabeth, the Katie Girl, and... and...” His face crumbled. “I can't remember the third one.”
“The Tommy Boy,” Tom supplied, his voice thick. “You named it after me.”
Pop studied Tom with interest. “Are you Tommy?”
“Yes, Pop.”
“You got tall.”
They sat with him in the garden while he talked about boats that had been sold decades ago, and about fishing grounds that probably didn't exist. He was happy in his confusion, freed from the weight of trying to remember, trying to be who they needed him to be.
“Is Elizabeth coming today?” he asked eventually.
“Not today, Pop,” Kate said.
“She must be busy. Always busy, that one. Beautiful though. Most beautiful woman I ever saw.” He patted Kate's hand. “You look like someone. Can't place it.”
They stayed with him for another hour before a nurse came for him.
“I think it’s time for lunch. We’re having lobster today. You love lobster.”
Pop rose from his chair and happily went off to the dining room, never looking back on his children.
On the drive back, Kate found herself thinking about connections, how Lillian had severed them with surgical precision, how they were all still dealing with the aftermath.
