Jack breathed in the sea air and pointed out to the ocean. “There’s really not a drop of land between here and Europe or Africa,” he said. “Just water.”
As the kids stared out at the views, Jack looked down at the backyard. It was sandy, with dunes covered in vegetation. He stepped back inside and smelled the burned wood of fires from long ago.
They clumped upstairs and looked through the shotgun line of bedrooms there, none of them remarkable, but all functional. Where others might have seen limitations, builder Jack saw potential. All the bedrooms had views of the ocean, and the largest one had a small outdoor balcony as well.
“What do you think is up there?” This came from Mikki, who was pointing to a set of stairs at the end of the hall going up another half flight.
“Attic, I suppose,” he said.
Jack eased open the door and fumbled for a light switch. Nothing happened when he flicked it, and it occurred to him that the power had been turned off when the place became uninhabited. The room was under the eaves of the house, and the ceiling slanted upward to a peak. It was large, with two windows that threw in good morning light, though now the sun had passed over the house and was going down. There was a bed, an old wrought-iron four-poster, a large wooden desk, a shelf filled with books, and an old trunk set in one corner. A door led to a closet that was empty. Jack stepped cautiously over the floor planks to test their safety.
“Okay,” he said after his inspection was complete. “Explore.”
Cory made a beeline for the trunk, while Jack led his youngest over to the desk and helped him open drawers. He glanced back at Mikki, who hadn’t budged from the doorway.
“You going to look around?”
“Why? You’re not thinking about moving here, are you?”
“Maybe.”
Her face flushed with anger. “I already had to move to Arizona. And all my friends are in Cleveland. My band, everything.”
“I’m just looking around, okay?” But in his mind, Jack was already drawing up plans for repairs and improvements.
In his mind’s eye, there was Lizzie seated next to him on the bed, on what would turn out to be her last day of life.
You never know, Jack, you might enjoy it too. You could really fix the place up. Even make the lighthouse work again.
“So Grand left you this place?” asked Mikki.
Jack broke free from his thoughts. “Yeah, she did.”
“Well, why don’t you sell it, then? We could certainly use the money.”
“I can’t. It’s a legal thing. And I wouldn’t have felt right selling it even if I could.”
Mikki shrugged and leaned against the doorway, adopting a clearly bored look.
Jack glanced over at Cory, who’d nearly tumbled into the large trunk he’d opened in his eagerness. He came up wearing on old-fashioned top hat, black cloak, and a half mask covering the upper part of his face.
“Moo-ha-ha-ha,” he said in a dramatically deep voice.
“That Corwee?” said Jackie, uncertainly, hugging his father tighter.
“That’s Cory acting funny,” said Jack encouragingly as he gently pried his youngest son’s frantic fingers from around a patch of his hair.
Jack picked up a book and opened it, and his jaw dropped.
“What is it?” asked Cory, who had seen his reaction.
Jack held up the book. There was a bookplate on the inside cover.
“Property of Lizzie O’Toole,” read Jack. “This was your mother’s book,” he said. “Maybe they all were.” He looked excitedly around. “I bet this was your mom’s room growing up.”
Now Mikki stepped into the room and joined them. “Mom’s room?”
Jack nodded and pointed eagerly to the desktop. “Look at that.”
Carved into the wood were the initials EPO. Mikki looked at her dad questioningly.
He said animatedly, “Elizabeth Pinckney O’Toole. That was you mom’s full name. Pinckney was Grand’s maiden name. She kept her last name even after she married.”
“Why did Mom leave her books behind?” she asked.
“Maybe she thought she would come back,” replied Jack uncertainly.
“I remember her telling me about a beach house she grew up in, but she never really said anything else about it. Did you know much about it?”
“She told me about it. But I’d never been here before.”
“Why’d she never bring us here?” Mikki asked.
“I know that she wanted to. In fact, she was planning to bring all of you here this summer after I... Anyway, that was her plan.”
“Is that why we’re here, then? Fulfilling Mom’s wishes?”
“Maybe that’s part of it.”
Jackie tugged on his dad’s ear.
“Corwee?” asked Jackie.
Jackie was pointing at his brother, who was now wearing a pink boa, long white gloves, and a tiara.
“Still Cory,” said Jack, smiling broadly. “And obviously completely secure in his masculinity.”
He glanced at Mikki, who was running her fingers over her mom’s initials.
Jack looked out the window. “Hey, guys. Check this out.”
The kids hurried to the window and stared up in awe at the lighthouse that rose into the air out on a rocky point next to the house.
“It’s really close to the house,” said Mikki.
Cory added, “Do you think it belongs to us too?”
Jack said, “I know it does. Your mom told me about it. It was one of her favorite places to go.”
They rushed outside and over to the rocky point. The lighthouse was painted with black and white stripes and was about forty feet tall. He tried the door. It was locked, but he peered through the glass in the upper part of the door. He saw a spiral wooden staircase. There were boxes stacked against one wall, and everything was covered in dust.
“What a mess,” said Mikki, who was looking through another pane of glass.
On the exterior wall of the lighthouse was an old, weathered sign. He scraped off some of the gunk and read, “Lizzie’s Lighthouse.” Jack stepped back and stared up at the tall structure with reverence.
Cory looked at the hand-painted sign. “How could this be Mom’s lighthouse?”
“Well, it was one of her favorite places, like I said,” answered his father, who was now circling the structure to see if there was another way to get in. “Isn’t it cool?”
“It’s just an old lighthouse, Dad,” Mikki said.
He turned to look at her. “No, it was your mom’s lighthouse. She loved it.”
Jackie pulled on his dad’s pants leg again. He pointed at the lighthouse.
“What dat?”
Cory said, “It’s a lighthouse, Jackie. Big light.”
“Big wight,” repeated Jackie.
Jack gazed around at the property. “I’m sold.”
“What?” exclaimed Mikki.
“This will be a great place to spend the summer.”
“But, Dad,” protested Mikki. “It’s a dump. And my friends—”
“It’s not a dump. This is where your mother grew up,” he snapped. “And we’re moving here.” He paused and added in a calmer tone, “At least for one summer.”
22
Back in Cleveland, they moved out of the rental and parked their few pieces of furniture at Sammy’s place, because he’d decided to come with them to South Carolina.
“What am I gonna do by myself all summer?” he’d said when told of the family’s plans. “And Sam Jr. expects the kids to be around now. Whines all the time when they’re not here. I mean, I can get by without you folks, but it’s the damn dog that troubles me.”