the house. When Gemma had broached the idea to sell Sunset Cottage, it seemed to make sense. It was a big house that they rarely visited, worth enough that her share alone would fund the girls’ college bills and Ellie would be able to find a comfortable alternative. The house was so large, and in need of routine maintenance. Hope hadn’t thought about it in so many years; she’d been too wrapped up with her day-to-day life to look back on the past. But now, being here, it seemed that it was all she could think about.
And it was safer than thinking about the future.
At that, her stomach twisted and she set a hand to her waist to settle it. Evan had called already, as she assumed he would, and she’d answered, only to hand the phone to the girls, but the reception had been lost partway through the call. When he’d called again, he’d asked when she was coming home, and she couldn’t answer that because she didn’t know. She couldn’t stay here forever, especially not if they sold the house.
She focused again on the house, on the front porch where her own mother used to sit and play cards and chat with the other mothers. It seemed impossible to believe that she was once the girl who would run barefoot on this beachfront, and splash in the water, and not care if her shoulders got too much sun or if she got sand in her hair.
Now she was the mother who was brushing sand out of her children’s hair. The cycle of life had continued, just as she somehow always knew it would, that life would carry on for her as it always had, as it had been so carefully laid out for her.
Suddenly, the thought of going into the house, confined to the memories and the reminders of the past, and the horrible, sinking thought of what might have been, what path might have been chosen, became almost less appealing than the thought of two cranky girls who had missed their nap. She longed to walk through town, without the double-wide stroller that was another part of her routine the girls were quickly growing out of, sooner than she wished. Sure, it was hard to wrestle that thing through standard doors, but without it…She tried to picture walking hand in hand with the girls for any length of time and felt herself almost tear up. They’d resist. They’d get tired. She’d be even more housebound than she was now, with even less to talk about with her husband when he came home, with even less interaction with other people, and that was…unbearable.
It took ten minutes to pack up the beach toys and cross the street to the house, and another fifteen to rinse off in the tub because Victoria had so much sand in her hair that it had to be washed, and that always caused a howling fit.
From upstairs she heard Gemma say something she couldn’t make out and then close her door with more force than Hope felt was really necessary. Yes, she was writing a book, and yes, she had a deadline, but did she really need to show how much more important that was than what Hope was doing?
Hope stared at her two girls in the tub in dismay. She was rinsing sand out of a child’s hair, and Gemma was writing a book that would soon be shelved alongside her other, in bookstores across the nation. Who was she kidding?
With record speed, she drained the water, dried the girls with fluffy striped towels that she had also purchased (again, with a questioning frown from Ellie) and tucked them into their side-by-side beds and drew the curtains.
They fell asleep quickly, thanks to the fresh air and endless activity, and Hope walked up to the third floor and knocked quietly on the door. From behind it, she heard Gemma curse. A moment later, she opened the door. Her hair was pulled into a wild-looking bun and her mouth was pinched.
“Sorry, but I was going to head into for a bit. The girls are asleep. Would you mind just listening out for them? I should be back before they wake up.”
Gemma’s eyes bulged. “I’m trying to work.”
“And they’re asleep.”
“I don’t think you realize what kind of pressure I’m under here,” Gemma replied in a steely voice.
Now this was completely unfair! “I was the one who suggested you come up here, remember?” Hope pointed out.
“Yes, and