“And don’t mind me,” Alexia continued. “I tend to prattle on when I’m nervous. Can we sit for a minute?” She motioned to a bench seat under the eucalyptus.
Molly wanted to leave but sensed Alexia needed someone to talk to. “Of course. Are you okay?”
They took a seat, and as Alexia turned side-on to face Molly, her expression relaxed. “Thank you, I’m fine. Not many people ask me that question. Good old Alexia, always looking on the bright side. But anyways, can I ask you something? Just between us girls?”
“Sure.”
“Why weren’t you there for Jesse, you know, at the end?”
Molly steadied her breath. “Because I wasn’t aware that he was ill. Sadly, we’d lost touch years ago. But you said he’d mentioned me?”
Ignoring her question, Alexia reached out and patted Molly on the knee. “Oh well, you’re here now, hon. I guess that’s something. Have you met Hazel and Henry?”
“Do you mean Jake and Jesse’s parents?”
“Yes. Their mum’s a real sweetheart, but this whole business has been especially hard on her. She and Jesse were so close, and with Jake living in France for years, he’d kind of drifted away from the family. I remember when Jesse went over to Europe to meet up with Jake. Hazel was such a lost soul.”
“I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child, even one Jesse’s age,” Molly said.
“Totally, right? And Jake tends to keep to himself. I remember the day Hazel told me that Jesse’s treatment had failed. Jake was still living in Paris—not that it was his fault. We’d all been in denial, and Jesse was adamant he’d beat it like the first time, so he insisted Jake stay put, but in the end, Henry went against Jesse’s wishes and gave Jake a hurry-up. I know he regrets not coming home sooner, but who knows, maybe a third party played a part in that decision. He’s never been back here to the cemetery, not since the funeral.”
The end was swifter than anyone anticipated.A wave of emotion washed over Molly as she recalled Jake’s words. “Perhaps he can’t face it. We all grieve differently, don’t we?”
“You know what, Molly? You are a wise woman.” Alexia picked up her tote. “Let’s do coffee on Sunday.”
“That would’ve been nice, but I’m busy this weekend.”
“Yeah? Doing what?” They stood at the same time and strolled toward the parking lot.
“Probably making a fool of myself at the wine and food festival bake-off.”
“You’re a contestant?” Alexia clapped her hands. “How fabulous! I’ll make sure to check it out. Can’t bake to save myself, but I love anything sweet.”
“Thanks, I’m kind of nervous about it, to tell you the truth.”
Alexia patted her on the arm. “You’ll be fine. Just flash that cute smile of yours, and you’ll have those judges eating out of your hand.”
Molly sat in her car and watched Alexia drive away. In several intense minutes, she’d learned way more about the Sinclairs than was necessary. And in the process, she’d gained an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach and a profound sadness about what Jake and his family must have gone through.
With cloud settling over the western sky, Molly pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway, a lump in her throat and a moody Tracy Chapman song on the radio as she headed for the Carter Bay Road intersection.
After turning right, she drove past the strawberry farm and into CeCe and Luka’s driveway.
Luka opened their front door as she approached and stood waiting on the porch until Molly pulled to a stop. He bounded down the steps and opened the car door for her. “Hey.” He leaned in for a hug. “You staying for dinner?”
“I wasn’t planning to, but I won’t say no. But only if you have enough.”
“There’s always enough, you know that. Tough day?” He gestured toward the open front door.
Molly followed him inside and down the wide hallway into the family room, thankful for the company.
“More surreal than tough.” She cast her eyes around the space. “Where’s CeCe?”
“In town.” Luka picked up his phone. “I’ll text and tell her you’re here. Wine?”
“Thanks. Half a glass would be great.” Molly crossed to the window and looked out over the garden, where white hydrangeas in full bloom shaded themselves beneath a row of liquid amber. She loved this place. Built from a blend of schist, cedar, and glass, it brought to mind the words calm and authentic every time she stepped through the front door.
Luka handed her the glass and then moved around the kitchen, gathering food and arranging it onto a large serving board. “Inside or out?”
