CHAPTER ONE
Vivian Owens looked around her cozy kitchen and tapped her fingertips against her chin. She was feeling cheerfully restless, and her body felt as full of energy as the warm August sunshine that lit up her garden, which she could see through the windows of her kitchen.
I know I should probably relax on my day off,she thought, smiling to herself,but I feel like I want to do something.
Vivian worked most days of the week, but she didn’t mind. She owned a local restaurant named The Lighthouse Grill, which was a favorite of locals and tourists alike. She and her husband Frank had started it during the early days of their marriage, and in many ways it was the center of her and her children’s lives. It was a gathering place for the people of Rosewood Beach, Connecticut, somewhere where they could go for good food and great company.
She adored running The Lighthouse Grill, and her children loved helping her. Her oldest daughters, Alexis and Julia, worked there with her, and the twins, Hazel and Dean, were always ready to help with special events like Christmas parties or the fundraiser they’d had when they’d learned how much dangerthe pub’s finances were in after Frank had passed away, leaving behind a mountain of secret gambling debts.
Vivian glanced at her well-worn recipe books, resting on a shelf by the window. She contemplated baking a batch of muffins or some such pastry, since she did have some delicious blueberries that Hazel had picked with her daughter Samantha and husband Jacob the previous weekend.
She walked over to the shelf and pulled down one of the recipe books, one she hadn’t used in a while. She remembered there being a delicious white chocolate blueberry scone recipe in it, and she was contemplating trying it out. Along with the book came a small billow of dust.
“Ugh!” Vivian sneezed. She leaned forward and saw that there was a thick line of dust behind all of the books on the shelf. She shook her head, tutting at herself.
It’s been much too long since I’ve deep cleaned this house,she thought.I should give it a good summer cleaning.
Brightening, she grinned. She knew exactly what she would do with her day off. The blueberry white chocolate scones could wait—she was going to deep clean her house.
Vivian liked cleaning. There were times when she wasn’t fully in the mood for it and it felt like a chore, but for the most part, it was something that relaxed and energized her. She loved making things tidy, clean, and sparkling again. It was as if she was showing love to every nook and cranny of her house.
She bustled her way downstairs to the basement and opened her cleaning supply closet. Orderly shelves lined with baskets and bottles looked back at her. She grabbed her dusting cloths and a duster, a citrus-based essential oil cleaning spray, her Swiffer, and a couple of rags, tucking most of the items into a basket that she could carry upstairs with her. Sighing with satisfaction, she ascended the stairs. Cleaning was exactly what she was in the mood for.
She started with the kitchen, which was already fairly clean since she always kept the stove, floor, and countertops tidy and sanitary. She cleaned out the refrigerator, discarding an expired jar of apricot jelly that had been abandoned and forgotten in a corner. She dusted on top of the cabinets and behind the books on the shelves, and she took the dishes out of the cupboards to wipe away a thin film of dust that had gathered on the cupboard shelves—and in the case of the seldom-used cupboards above the stove, a couple of spider webs.
Next, she made her way to the living room, which was also reasonably clean, especially since it wasn’t used as often as it used to be. Vivian kept busy working at The Lighthouse Grill most days, and in the summer, during her time off she loved to work in her garden. During the autumn and winter, she spent more time in her living room, reading books and drinking tea.
This still needs a good cleaning, though,she thought with a chuckle, noticing part of an oatmeal cookie poking out from underneath the couch.
Once or twice a week her family came over for dinner nights, and they usually ended up eating their dessert in the living room while they played board games. Vivian suspected that Macey, Julia and Cooper’s adorable little girl, had decided to store the last of her cookie under the couch for safekeeping.
She vacuumed and dusted, giving the bookshelves and all of the little sentimental knickknacks she owned a thorough cleansing. She moved the couches and armchairs and vacuumed underneath them, feeling satisfied by how nice the carpets looked when she was done.
As she carefully dusted the tops of the picture frames hanging on the walls, she thought about her family with a glow of love in her heart. She loved looking at the pictures of her children when they were little, especially the ones from family vacations or special days. There was one of their whole familygathered around an eight-year-old Alexis as she held up a massive fish that she’d just caught with an expression of extreme distaste. Alexis had loved fishing with her father and siblings on their vacation—until she’d actually caught one.
Vivian laughed, thinking fondly of her second-oldest daughter, who after a successful career as a model in L.A. had come into her own as an independent jewelry-maker and a waitress for The Lighthouse Grill. Alexis had always loved delicate, beautiful things, but she was a lot tougher than she initially appeared to be. She worked long, hard hours and kept a smile on her face, fueled by confident determination and love for her family, especially her baby boy Cash, who often got to ride around strapped to her back while she waitressed.
The next picture Vivian dusted was one of the family with their arms around Hazel after she’d won first prize in their elementary school’s baking competition. Hazel had always had a knack for creating things, and she was still a prolifically excellent baker. Before marrying her high school crush, Jacob Dorsey, she had decorated the cute little home that she and her daughter Samantha had lived in in a whimsical, cottage-like style. Now that she and Jacob had fixed up a big old house and turned it into their dream home together, she had an even bigger palette on which to create her homemaking.
Vivian laughed out loud as she dusted a picture of Dean perched in the top of an apple tree, with his siblings clustered on the ground, shaking their heads. Dean had always been spunky and usually a little dirty. If he wasn’t climbing something or playing sports, he had been fixing machines. Now he owned the local auto repair shop and had made a trusted name for himself in the community.
She sighed, her heart aching a little, when she thought of how his early onset osteoarthritis had kept him from doing as many active things as he used to, but she smiled again when shereminded herself that the surgery he was going to get before he married his beautiful fiancée Noelle was supposed to improve his symptoms a great deal.
Next, she came across a photograph of Julia standing on the stage of the middle school auditorium, holding up a first-place trophy for the Math Olympiads and surrounded by her adoring siblings and father. Vivian herself wasn’t in the picture because she’d taken it. That was true of many of their family pictures. She didn’t mind, however, since she felt proud of how many moments she’d managed to capture over the years.
She remembered taking that picture that day—it had been at the last minute, after Julia’s friends and classmates and their families had already left the auditorium and headed to the potluck celebration that was being held on the lawn of the school. Vivian had wanted a picture of Julia holding her award onstage, and she’d quickly herded her family into position. Julia had helped her do it, already good at organizing and taking charge, even at that age.
Vivian smiled, feeling a surge of pride in her eldest daughter, who had taken over The Lighthouse Grill’s finances after moving back to Rosewood Beach from New York, and she’d done a stellar job of turning them around.
The rest of the pictures were newer, showing her children as adults and including their partners and children. Although there were many formal portraits, there were also pictures from momentous days in their lives, such as the fundraiser that the children had organized for The Lighthouse Grill, or the surprise party that they’d thrown for their cousin Faith.
Vivian felt happy and grateful as she moved on to the downstairs bathroom and the hallway. Her thoughts were filled with love for her family and the strong, faithful bond they all shared. She pondered what meal she should cook for them all at the next family dinner night, and she occupied her mind withtrying to remember all her favorite old recipes that she hadn’t tried in a while.
She’d decided on a clam chowder with homemade tomato basil focaccia by the time she’d deep cleaned the entire downstairs. Huffing and puffing a little, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. After sitting and drinking the well-brewed beverage, she felt full of energy once again and decided to clean the upstairs of the house, which consisted of her bedroom and her children’s old bedrooms, which had all been converted into cheerful guest rooms.
That floor didn’t take nearly as long to clean, since she always cleaned the guest rooms before and after they were used by visiting friends or her grandchildren spending the weekend, and her own bedroom was always neat and tidy.
I’m still feeling an urge to clean,she thought, finishing polishing the mirror in the upstairs bathroom. She chuckled.I guess that means I’ll have to try to tackle the attic.
