Ben had been quiet through this, but now he looked at Kate. “You need some air?”
She nodded, let him guide her out to the porch. The harbor stretched before them, boats bobbing in the June sunshine, tourists already gathering despite the early hour.
“I'm sorry about that,” she said.
“For what? You didn't invite him.”
“For him insulting you. For me dating someone like that in the first place.”
“We all have pasts, Kate. Things we did when we were different people.”
The weight in his voice made her look at him, really look. He was paint-splattered and tired, having worked long hours tohelp them prepare for summer season. But his eyes were steady, patient, full of something she was still too scared to name.
“Ben…”
“The new couple for Room 8 is here!” Dani called from the doorway. “And they're not happy about something.”
The moment broken, Kate returned to face a new crisis. The couple was upset about noise from the construction next door. It wasn’t anything she could control so the best she could do was to upgrade them to the inn’s only suite at no charge, Dani threw in complimentary afternoon tea, and Tom offered a discount on their next stay.
The day continued in its now-familiar pattern. James fixed three technology problems while creating two new ones. Dani led a tour for potential wedding clients, turning the inn's quirks into charming features. Tom negotiated with a seafood supplier while reviewing legal documents for a property easement they needed. Kate coordinated it all, no longer trying to do everything herself but making sure everything got done.
Around three, she went to visit her father. He was in the garden at the facility, sitting with two other residents who seemed equally lost in their own worlds. He looked up when she approached, studied her face carefully, but said nothing.
“Hi, Pop, I'm Katie. Your daughter.”
“Katie.” He tested the name, then smiled.
Even lost in dementia, Pop seemed pleased she had come. She sat beside him on the bench, told him about the inn's success, about the guests and the events and the signs going up today. He listened with polite interest, like she was telling him about strangers.
“I used to know someone named Katie,” he said when she finished. “She was always worried about something.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don't know. I hope she’s happy.”
The innocence of it, the simple wish from a father who didn't know he was talking to his daughter, broke something in Kate. She sat with him until he dozed off, then drove back to the inn with tears drying on her cheeks.
She found her siblings gathered in the dining room with Arthur Holbrook, Lillian's attorney. He'd arrived while she was gone, bringing boxes of papers they needed to review.
“There's one more thing,” Arthur was saying. “Mrs. Whitfield left individual letters for each of you. She asked that you read them privately.”
He handed out four envelopes, each labeled with their names in Lillian's shaky handwriting. Kate held hers like it might explode, another surprise from beyond the grave.
“There's also this.” Arthur pulled out a large envelope. “Photos she wanted you to have.”
Inside were dozens of pictures Kate had never seen. Their mother as a child, a teenager, a young woman. Pictures of all four siblings that Lillian must have gotten from somewhere, school photos, newspaper clippings from Tom's law school graduation, a photo of James at a tech conference, Dani in a fashion magazine from her brief modeling stint, Kate at the harbor helping Pop with his boat. She'd been watching them, gathering pieces of their lives from a distance.
“She loved you all,” Arthur said quietly. “In her complicated, imperfect way. She spent most of her life regretting her choices.”
After he left, the siblings sat with their letters, none of them opening them yet.
“Together?” Dani suggested.
They shook their heads in unison. Whatever Lillian had written, it was meant to be private, one last communication between grandmother and grandchild.
Kate took her letter to her room that night, after the guests were settled, the inn quiet. She sat on her bed and opened it carefully.
Dear Katherine,
