Book 2: The Lighthouse Inn (Nantucket Point)

Julia Harper faced the building where she’d be living soon, the pit in her stomach the kind that could swallow a woman whole. She’d tried filling it with chocolate-covered raisins, but that had only left her five pounds heavier and somewhat sick to her stomach.

Outside the car she’d ferried over from the mainland, the wind tugged at the American flag flying high from the deck of the front part of the building.

The Lighthouse Inn.

Julia had spent years living in Nantucket with her family, both as a single woman, a married one, and a teenager. Sometimes she swore she had the white sand from the beaches out here on Nantucket Point in her blood, and something about this patch of land in the middle of so much water called to her soul.

She’d been planning to leave Manhattan anyway—at least she’d told everyone that so often that she’d started to believe it might have been true at some point. Whether it was or not didn’t matter anymore.

She’d left.

She was here now.

“Go in now,” she whispered to herself, and Julia took a deep breath, her pulse suddenly throbbing in the vein in her neck. She’d carefully applied her makeup that morning—her last in the hotel where she’d been staying in downtown Nantucket while she waited for her car and the clock to do what it was about to do.

Tick to ten o’clock on September first. 

The first day of the rest of her life.

The first day of true freedom from the life she’d been encased inside for the past twenty-seven years. A life where someone else knew when to change the furnace filter. A life where someone else paid the mortgage and replaced broken doorknobs and helped the children learn how to drive.

Alan had taken very good care of Julia, and while she’d known it at the time, she’d still had quite the rude awakening when he’d walked out, and she’d been faced with the enormity of taking care of their historic brownstone.

Five stories to take care of, with all of the children gone, and Julia found she didn’t want to make the trips up the steps anymore. Not to empty bedrooms. Not to a master suite with a king-sized bed that only she slept in. Not back downstairs every morning for coffee in the breakfast nook that overlooked the garden—which she now had to take care of by herself.

Her mother said she’d lived a sheltered and pampered life, and Julia hadn’t argued with her. Mother also had no room to talk, as she lived in a gorgeous, sprawling house in Southampton, sipping lemonade next to the pool while Dad took care of the house, the land, the cars, and the bills.

Julia stood from her sedan, hitched her purse higher onto her shoulder, and faced the inn. The bottom portion of the building had a flat roof and could only be described as a two-story cube. The double-wide front doors sat smack-dab in the middle of the square structure, a deep, rich mahogany frame filled with glass that actually settled her nerves slightly.

She’d been to The Lighthouse Inn first as a teenager, delivering groceries to the caretakers. Now, she was going to be the caretaker. 

Along with someone else, she reminded herself as she took the first step toward the entrance. The Nantucket Historical Society had originally wanted a couple to live in the inn and run it, the way the previous caretakers had done. Phil and Margo Michaels had taken care of The Lighthouse Inn for over thirty years, and they’d retired at the beginning of the summer.

The Historical Society had had a terribly hard time finding a replacement couple, and the inn had been closed when suitable caretakers hadn’t been found. They’d then changed the job listing, and since Julia couldn’t seem to stay away from Nantucket, when she’d seen she didn’t need to be one-half of a couple to apply for the job, she’d taken the bold step and done it.

Shock coursed through her even now that she’d gotten the job. 

Ironically, working in and managing Alan’s real estate office had been the deciding factor in her application. She was very used to a lot of moving pieces, and she’d once managed a diner as well. As The Lighthouse Inn operated as a bed and breakfast, the job required cooking skills. The inn traditionally had offered activities for its occupants as well, and Julia’s old, unused marine biology degree had come in handy too.

She had not met the other person who would be living in The Lighthouse Inn with her. She didn’t even know the other woman’s name. She’d been told to be at the inn today, at ten o’clock to sign her contract, and then she’d be able to move into the tiny private suite where she’d be living for the foreseeable future.

A sense of giddiness and the urge to throw up hit her simultaneously, and she wobbled slightly in her heels. No one who came to Nantucket Point wore heels, but Julia had wanted to appear sophisticated and professional. Heels also firmed up her legs and gave her a sense of confidence, despite the extra pounds she enjoyed due to the chocolate-covered stress eating she did.

The breeze pulled at her dark hair, which she tucked behind her ear as the thwapping, rippling sound of the flag met her ears. She loved that sound, and she calmed further. 

She reached the door and pulled it open. All the signs she’d seen when she’d come for her interviews were now gone, but the door still squealed on its hinges. That would be one of the very first things she’d fix, because why endure such a sound when a couple of spritzes of WD-40 would make this door open silently?

Pride filled her as she first tasted the air conditioning inside the building. The weather had started to cool slightly at night, and come Tuesday next week, the tourists would be mostly gone from the beaches of Nantucket.

“Julia,” a woman said, and Julia turned toward the familiar tone. 

“Vivian.” Julia smiled and changed direction. “Good morning.”

“It’s good to see you again.” She stood in the doorway leading into the small office where Julia would work with her partner to run the inn. The lobby of the inn sat right in the middle of the building, with staircases moving up and down from behind the ten-foot counter that served as the check-in desk.

The Lighthouse Inn only had five rooms available per evening. Both she and her partner would have a private suite located on the basement floor, and while Julia hadn’t lived in a basement in a very long time, she was actually ready to get her things moved in, roll up her sleeves, and get The Lighthouse Inn back open.

The Historical Society had said there would be a budget for renovations and cleaning, and that they’d like the inn open in time for the holidays. Julia couldn’t imagine a scenario where she couldn’t get a five-bedroom house operational in two months, because when she’d toured the inn, it wasn’t in that bad of shape.

Yes, all of the carpet needed to be replaced. The walls required a fresh coat of paint. The deck off the back of the inn needed to be reinforced and re-stained. It connected via a narrow walkway to the fishing dock that extended right out into the water.

The main level housed the lobby, a public restroom, the small office, the kitchen, and the dining room. All five guest rooms were located on the second floor, and the third floor became the lighthouse tower that extended another seventy-four feet above the main building.

The lighthouse itself was no longer operational, though it had once been responsible to help guide seafarers at night. Another lighthouse down the beach and out on the isthmus of the Point did work, but no one stayed there as part of their magical visit to Nantucket Island.

Julia reached Vivian and shook her hand, her smile cemented in place now. She wasn’t going to let it slip, not even for a moment, until she had all of her boxes moved in and her car parked in the single employee slot. 

She’d been told that the other woman didn’t have a car, and she’d readily agreed to share hers so the two of them could get to the downtown area or anywhere else on the island where they needed to go. 

“Maddy isn’t here yet,” Vivian said, turning back to the office. “Come on in, though, and we’ll get your contract signed. She signed hers last night, and she’s all moved in already too.” Vivian sighed with a measure of exhaustion in the sound as she sank into the chair behind the desk. “I caught sight of her leaving for a morning walk when I got here.”

She flashed a professional smile and picked up a pen. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, and the two of you will finally get to meet.”

“Mm.” Julia sat in the single chair opposite the desk, perching right on the edge of it and letting her purse fall to the ground. She just needed to get her name inked on this. Then she’d be ready to take the first step into the next phase of her life.

Almost fifty. Single. Trying to figure out how to parent adult sons. 

And now, instead of reading her favorite novels while Alan went to work, checking in with the progress of her children as they went to college, and going to lunch with her friends, Julia was about to become co-caretaker of The Lighthouse Inn.

“So this is a year-long contract,” Vivian said, as if Julia hadn’t paid attention the first time they’d gone over the requirements of the job. “You must give us three months’ notice, so we can avoid shutting down the inn as we’ve had to do this summer.” Vivian looked at Julia over the rims of her black glasses. 

“I understand,” Julia said. 

“After the first twelve months, there is no contract in place holding you here. We simply ask for the long notice at that point.” She passed Julia the pen. “You’ve had a chance to read over it?”

“Yes,” Julia said, though she hadn’t paid much attention to the contract Vivian had sent earlier that week. She wasn’t going to back out of this now. She didn’t have anything left in Manhattan, and that chilling thought ran through her as she signed her name on the lines Vivian indicated.

The blonde woman scooped up the papers the moment Julia finished and tucked them neatly into a folder. Her smile seemed more relaxed now, and Julia looked between it and the woman’s name tag, pinned neatly to her red blazer. 

She worked for the Historical Society, and she was the contact should Julia and her partner need anything at The Lighthouse Inn.

“All right.” Another sigh leaked from between her lips as she stood. “You’re in. Done. I’ve put hard copies of the guest guide, policies, and anything else you need in your room. You’ve got the digital copies. I’ll let you get moved in and settled. You and Maddy will be able to sit down and meet at your earliest convenience, and I trust that when I see you both again, you’ll have a plan for the restoration and clean up that will get us open by November first.”

“Yes,” Julia said, standing too. “Thank you.”

Vivian looked past Julia’s outstretched hand, her smile widening and relaxing. She clearly saw someone she liked much more than Julia. “Oh, here’s Maddy now.” 

With one painful thump of her heart, Julia turned toward the doorway. She took in the elegant, beautiful woman standing there, and her mind whirred as she placed once-familiar features.

Those eyes…so bright and so blue.

That heart-shaped face…could wear such a look of disgust and disdain, Julia remembered.

The blonde hair that held more gray than it once had…but still looked perfectly styled and sophisticated.

“Maddy, this is your partner,” Vivian said, her voice warbling like a doorbell that needed a new battery. It had high tones and low tones in Julia’s mind as a wail started somewhere inside her brain.

Vivian made it to a spot between the two women, which put the unsuspecting woman in a precarious position. She didn’t even know it, if her smile was any indication.

But Julia had placed the identity of the woman in front of her, and she literally could not be any worse. 

Madelynne Lancaster. 

She obviously recognized Julia too, because she cocked one hip and folded her arms, as if the two of them had been transported thirty-five years into the past. 

Maddy scanned Julia from the top of her head to the high heels, and just like she’d always been dismissed as insignificant, Julia could see the scoff forming in Maddy’s mouth before it even came out.

Vivian didn’t seem to notice, because she simply said, “This is Julia Harper.” She looked at Julia, her smile almost blinding—if Julia could look at anyone but the woman who’d once made her life a living hell. 

“Julia, this is Madelynne Lancaster. You two are going to be co-caretakers of The Lighthouse Inn.”

Madelynne Lancaster. The woman whose boyfriend Julia had stolen and then made her husband. At the time, she’d felt nothing but vindicated. She’d gotten the last laugh. After a long string of losses, she’d finally won.

There was no way she could live with and work with Maddy for the next twelve months. Absolutely no way.

The silence stretching between the two women held a charge that could’ve called lightning from the sky, and it only increased with every passing second while each woman waited for the other to break and say hello first.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “This second book of the series certainly did not disappoint! I enjoyed the way old characters and new came together and messed perfectly. Each book has it's own flow and just keeps the pages turning so quickly. It has intrigue, suspense a little bit of romance and it's good clean fun to read.” ~Anne N.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “I absolutely love this story. The Lighthouse Inn was a perfect job for these two women to take on. I loved how they went from being angry to becoming good friends again. I really enjoyed how they began to make friends with others on the point, and how well they worked together. Having some romance in the story didn't hurt, either!” ~Barbara W.