The Family Beach House Read Online Free PDF

her mind but none of them was able to emerge as a coherent comment or question.
    Susan, who was sitting next to Bill—Ruth was at the head of the table—patted his hand. “Well,” she said, “I think it’s great, Bill. We look forward to meeting her.”
    â€œShe’ll be here for the memorial, but you’ll meet her before that. We see each other pretty often, whenever her business allows.”
    Tilda was stunned. Her father’s girlfriend would be attending Charlotte McQueen’s memorial? Ruth was right; this relationship was, indeed, serious. She wondered if Jennifer Fournier enjoyed sailing and then thought: What a bizarre thing to wonder about!
    Because Charlotte McQueen had died in a sailing accident. She had been out with a friend and had stumbled over a coil of rope that perhaps should not have been where it was. She had fallen and hit her head and that had been that. She was dead instantly. It was a death vaguely romantic and without obvious mess, something, Hannah thought, befitting the rather snobbish Charlotte. Aware of its harsh character, she, thus far, had only shared her opinion with Susan.
    â€œWe’re all very happy for you, Bill,” Susan was saying now. “Aren’t we?”
    â€œYes,” Ruth said emphatically. “We are.”
    Reluctantly, Tilda and Hannah murmured their assent.
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    Tilda was sitting at the window of her bedroom. The lights were off in the room, which meant that she could see the designs of the trees in the dark outside, branches long and clawing, trunks black against the blue night. She couldn’t sleep. She was worried about the uncertain future of her beloved Larchmere. She was worried about her own uncertain future.
    What would happen to her if her father remarried and the family home ceased to be the family home? It scared her to think of the house being lost to a stranger. But it also scared her to think about the possibility of her father leaving Larchmere to all four McQueen children. There would be absolute chaos! It would be impossible to negotiate with Adam, who always had to be right, and as for Craig, he would just take off and leave the others to pay his share of the upkeep. Tilda loved her younger brother but she wasn’t blind to his faults. As for Hannah…Well, Tilda suddenly realized she had absolutely no idea how her sister felt about the possibility of inheriting Larchmere. Hannah and Bill were very close. There was no reason her sister could not be considered a possible sole heir.
    And if Hannah were to inherit Larchmere, would she cherish and protect it the way Tilda knew it deserved? Again, she had absolutely no idea. They had never talked about the house and what it meant to them. They had simply taken it for granted.
    An owl hooted. Tilda thought he sounded melancholy. She hugged herself tightly. Was there nothing upon which she could rely? Death took loved ones away. It had stolen her mother and her husband. Time and distance could loosen emotional ties. And now, what if her father remarried and as a result, even Larchmere, her beloved home, was stolen from her?
    Life was loss. She knew that. And she had been as prepared as anyone could be for the impending death of a loved one. She had read books and articles in magazines and online. She had bought a copy of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s classic book, On Death and Dying, and dutifully read it through.
    She knew all about the five stages of grief. First there would be denial. That would be followed by anger, and then by bargaining. Next would come depression and finally, at long last, there would come acceptance.
    She also knew that the stages of grief were not distinct. She knew that they sometimes overlapped and nipped at each other’s heels. She was prepared to feel numb. She was prepared for the deep yearnings for Frank that would threaten to overwhelm her. She was prepared for the bouts of awful sadness, for the tears, for the