Cerella Sechrist - The Way Back To Erin

Aunt Lenora reached for the syrup bottle. “She’s been trying to drum up business. The local book club meets here once a month. They used to go to the library, but when they started complaining it was too drafty, she offered them use of the inn instead...for a nominal fee that includes scones and tea.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Burke said, uneasy about where the conversation was headed.

Aunt Lenora shook her head. “She quit her job, at Callahan’s.”

“I know.”

She continued shaking her head. “That young chef who owns it, Connor...he was sorry to see her go. Told her she was welcome back any time.”

Burke didn’t speak. Aunt Lenora obviously had something on her mind, and he figured he’d just have to wait for her to reach her point. He’d witnessed it a time or two in the past—when she had something to share, she rambled on with steadfast determination until she reached her conclusion.

“I worry that she spends too much of her time here. With me and Kitt. She should go out more.”

“Well, where did she go just now?”

Aunt Lenora looked sad. “To the lighthouse. She goes there to feel closer to him.”

Burke leaned back in his chair. “Him?”

“Gavin.”

“Oh.” Burke felt the familiar tug of grief...and shame. He cleared his throat. “Why the lighthouse?”

Aunt Lenora shrugged. “You’d have to ask her.”

Burke didn’t reply even as the conversation faded into silence. Aunt Lenora worked her way through her pancakes while Burke sipped his coffee. He had a feeling the old woman wasn’t finished, and his suspicions were confirmed a second later when she spoke up once more.

“You should talk to her.”

“Me? Why? What would I say?”

“Tell her not to worry so much about me, or the inn. Tell her it’s okay to go out, to be with other people, to be...happy again.”

Burke wasn’t exactly comfortable with this directive, but before he could formulate a response, Aunt Lenora switched topics.

“And how about you? Have you heard from Tessa?”

The reminder of his runaway bride pierced his pride. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t.” He’d checked his phone before heading downstairs for breakfast. There had been several texts, expressing sympathy, including one from Harper, Tessa’s sister. But nothing from his fiancée. No texts of explanation. No voicemails saying she was sorry or offering an explanation. Only silence.

“Then you’ll stay.”

“Aunt Lenora, I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

She ignored him.

“I can pay you, if it helps, since your bookings are down—”

“You can work for your keep.”

Aunt Lenora knew him too well. When he’d first come to live with her, at fourteen, he was already scarred by too many relatives who made him and Gavin feel like a burden. He didn’t appreciate handouts, couldn’t abide feeling indebted to others. By offering him the option to work for his room and board, she’d eliminated one of his strongest objections.

And he couldn’t share the other one with her.

“I don’t know,” he hedged, still trying to find a way out. “Maybe it would be better if I just left town. I mean, with Tessa here and all...”

Aunt Lenora made a face. “You cannot run forever.” Just then, Kitt reentered the kitchen, carrying a pair of fuzzy slippers. He took them to Aunt Lenora and without a word, placed them at her feet where she could easily slide her toes inside.

“Thank you, Kitt.” She patted his hand and met Burke’s gaze. “You know, there’s some drywall that needs replaced in the upstairs hallway. I think your uncle Burke planned to work on that this afternoon. Perhaps you could help him?”

The little boy’s gaze flitted to Burke, his eyes lighting with joy. There was no way he could say no to Aunt Lenora, or Kitt, now.

But he couldn’t stay forever. His conscience would never allow it.

* * *

THE BREEZE OFF the bay whipped the flag that sat next to the lighthouse. Erin listened to the fabric snapping in the wind and imagined it was Gavin, his spirit reminding her he was nearby. She wasn’t sure she believed that, but sometimes, just the thought of him watching over her was enough to get her through the day.

She shifted, settling more comfortably on the bench that offered a magnificent view of the water, and started her weekly conversation.

“So, you’ll never believe what happened yesterday. Tessa stood Burke up at their wedding.”

It had felt strange, at first, speaking aloud when she was all by herself. She refrained if there were others nearby, but she’d learned that during this particular time of the day, on Sunday mornings, the lighthouse grounds were usually pretty empty. So this had became her time, the time she spent with Gavin.

“Burke stayed at the inn last night. Aunt Lenora insisted.” Erin bit her lip, uncertain how much of her thoughts she wanted to voice aloud. “And now she’s invited him to stay for as long as he needs, until he can figure things out. I wish she hadn’t. I don’t want him living there. He’s never liked the Moontide.” She felt a ripple of guilt for such uncharitable thoughts. “I know he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, but it just seems...wrong, somehow. To have him there when you’re...not.”

She sighed and paused in her one-sided conversation to watch a seagull swoop down over the water.

She didn’t know how to express it. Or rather, didn’t want to speak aloud the real reasons Burke’s presence made her uneasy. She might have been talking to the air, but on some level, a small part of her believed Gavin could hear her. And she wasn’t willing to share her secret with him. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

“Sometimes, I think I’m a terrible person,” she whispered into the wind. “Burke just lost the woman he loves, and now he has nowhere to live. It makes sense for him to stay at the Moontide.”

But his presence is a reminder of my guilt.

She cleared her throat and fell silent as she noticed an older couple shuffling along the brick path that wrapped around the lighthouse. They were both hunched over slightly, their arms threaded tightly together as they moved along.

Her heart ached. That was supposed to have been her and Gavin, growing old together, spending Sunday mornings walking beside the lighthouse. That had been the plan. There had never been any question that Findlay Roads was where they’d make their home after Gavin was finished with the army. It was here that they both had found peace after years of moving around the country—her as a military brat before her mom had settled her in Findlay Roads while she was still in the middle of high school and Gavin being shuffled between family members after his parents’ death. They’d wanted to raise Kitt there, to have him know the stability and relationships they had missed as a child.

So much for that, Erin thought bitterly. All because one person had one drink too many and decided he wasn’t too drunk to drive. It was no consolation that the man responsible for taking Gavin’s life was serving a five-year prison sentence for vehicular homicide.

Erin didn’t want revenge for what had happened. She wanted Gavin back. And nothing in the world could make up for the ocean of tears she’d cried nor the sadness that still resided in her son’s eyes.

“It should be you,” she spoke aloud, now that the older couple had moved beyond earshot. “It should be you, living at the Moontide. Not Burke.”

But deep down she wondered if this was fate’s way of punishing her for the past.

* * *

BURKE USED A utility knife to cut carefully into the drywall surrounding the crack Aunt Lenora had pointed out in one of the upstairs bedrooms. He felt Kitt at his side, though the little boy didn’t say a word. But he huddled close, and Burke sensed the child’s gaze fastened on his movements. He finished cutting and pulled away the drywall paper to begin chipping at the compound underneath. Kitt leaned in so close that Burke could feel the little boy’s breath on his chin.