Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,24

depends on what’s back at my house. I’m going to eat something with sugar. Believe me. And in desperate times... Sure. I’d eat the pie.”

“Not that you deserve it,” he said.

She stood up from the stool and shrugged. “Life owes me.”

“Sure as hell does,” he said, nodding.

She shook her head and pushed her way out of the diner, out into the cold.

It had been far too cloudy to have seen the sun for most of the day, but she could tell it had gone down while she was inside because the light around her had deepened from pale gray to blue.

The lightness she’d felt when she’d walked into the diner stayed with her.

She carried it with her, along with the terrible pie, all the way home.

7

1907 May 30: Heavy NW wind with light rain shower first part of 24 hours. Last part of 24 hours moderate NW breeze clearing weather. Sea smooth. 1st ass’t whitewashing fences. Had a visitor today.

—FROM THE LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER’S LOGS OF THE CAPE HOPE LIGHTHOUSE

WENDY

The occupancy of the inn was still relatively low. It was late February and they had quite a bit of availability. But they’d had four rooms booked for the Captain’s House—three couples, and one man who was by himself, which made for a fairly straightforward breakfast.

They had a young couple who had traveled down from Washington. The woman was a nurse, the man an auto-body technician. And there was a couple, around Wendy’s age, who were bird-watchers, and had traveled extensively through the state of Oregon, favoring B and Bs as their place to stay.

The breakfast at the inn was famous. Seven courses, local and seasonal fare. Not only was the inn itself historic, and on the list of haunted buildings, but they were also renowned for their food.

Then there was another couple in their sixties, both men former sailors who took every chance they could to be near the sea.

And there was the man who was traveling by himself. John. He was from California, all the way up from Encinitas. He was tall and lean, with thick silver hair, cut short. He was fairly quiet at breakfast, nodding as she introduced each course, but not joining in with the chatter all that freely. She noticed that he was always looking around the room, seeming to study the details, the pictures on the wall, with deep interest.

There were some new photos from WWII that had remained classified until recently, because the locations of lookout points were considered a military secret.

Wendy introduced the first course—a fruit salad with a coconut lime sauce—and then went back into the kitchen, where Anna was working on scones.

“Looks good,” Wendy said, looking over at the batch her daughter had just pulled out of the oven, before making her way to the fridge and taking out the clotted cream, the jam and the lemon curd.

“Thank you,” Anna said, sounding out of breath or annoyed, Wendy wasn’t sure.

“You’re welcome. Have you—have you started paperwork for your...? Are you going to go ahead with the divorce?”

“Do you really want to discuss my divorce over lemon curd?”

For the past month she had been trying to build a bridge between herself and Anna. Had been trying to find a way to connect with her.

She’d been...so oblivious to what was happening with her. It was a stunning realization. That she’d lived so near Anna, seen her so often. Seen Thomas so often. Seen them together and even then hadn’t noticed a rift between them or her own daughter’s unhappiness.

Maybe you didn’t want to see it...

“If not over lemon curd, then when?”

“I’ll let you know when it’s finalized.” She sighed. “No. No progress on that front. If you ignore a marriage, will it go away?”

Wendy’s laugh came out on a breath. Anna was funny, and always had been. No matter her circumstances. “Not in my experience.”

“Shoot. I guess someday I’ll have to figure that out, then.” Anna went back to work on her food and Wendy let silence reign.

They maneuvered around each other with a certain amount of practice. Anna had learned to bake here when she was just a girl, and she had assisted Wendy from the time she was in fifth grade all the way through high school. A few moments later Anna swept out of the kitchen and collected the dishes, and then grabbed hold of a serving platter with her scones and their fixings, and went back out into the dining room. Wendy could hear her explaining each element, before