It had been just over a year since Chad McNichol’s untimely death; a year since his family had celebrated his life, grieved his loss, began to retrieve his secrets and make peace with the highs and lows of any human life. They may have had an official celebration of his life, but it had been too soon.
Now, a year after his passing, it was time to put it all in perspective and truly appreciate the ways in which they had grown and thrived and how much of that had to do with Chad, directly or indirectly. It was Anna’s suggestion that they all come together, not for a ceremony, but for fun and community. She reserved a bunch of picnic tables in a park near her home and Bess was all too happy to make a list of everything that was needed, from wine and burgers to covered dishes. And it was a perfect list.
Anna had long since stopped being in any way angry with Chad for his mood swings or his very inconvenient death and instead offered up gratitude for the amazing family he had sired. All of them. She was remembering good days and years of laughter and affection.
Jessie brought Mr. Wriggly to the picnic as well as what could only be described as gourmet potato salad and appetizers. Michael brought a soccer ball, goal nets, a cornhole game and a Jenga hardwood puzzle that stood five feet tall. Amy brought a giant pot of beans, Jenn brought a rich, messy dessert and Anna provided the meat. Uncle Phil did the barbecuing and was helped by Joe.
Patrick and Nikit kicked the soccer ball around waiting for Joe and Michael to join them and have a proper game. The women huddled near the warm grills because, although it was April, the weather was still quite cool. Baby Gina, whose favorite place was Anna’s lap, was bundled up nicely. Martin and Bess played Jenga, a game guaranteed to drive anyone with even a little OCD completely mad.
This, then, was the first official McNichol family reunion and all the players were present. Patrick and Jessie had resumed dating, more successfully this time. So far. It was looking good since Jessie, who was loath to give up either her newfound happiness or her counselor, was a new woman. And she was spending less time in her practice and more time at the clinic, taking on a management role and serving as a community liaison in San Francisco. She was talking about pursuing another degree in public health, but it was still just talk. There was hardly a spare hour left in her day.
Jenn and Michael lived together in a house that had gone from pink to white and they were planning a summer wedding. They were trying to keep it small, but the guest list was growing every day.
Blanche didn’t see Phillip again after his pre-Christmas visit and, even then, she never understood that he was her son. It gave Anna some comfort that Blanche thought she was being reunited with her one true love. Anna arranged for the three of them to have official blood tests to establish that they were, indeed, related. Of course it was impossible to establish what had really happened surrounding Phillip’s birth, but it sounded as though Rick’s mother did not want her son mixed up with Blanche and never mentioned her to Rick. Rick apparently never knew Blanche was trying to find him.
Blanche passed away quietly just a few weeks ago.
They ate, they played, they told stories. The sun was setting and no one seemed to want to go home so they finally packed up the picnic and retired to Anna’s house, where they kept the party going until very late. Uncle Phil retired to his guest room after nodding off during conversation in the great room. It was almost midnight when Anna stood on her front walk and waved goodbye to everyone. Joe dropped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “You should be very pleased with that crowd. After all the upheaval of the last year, don’t they just look like the most sane family you’ve ever seen?”
“I was thinking that,” she said. “A year ago I didn’t know how we’d get through it. Everyone had a different set of problems. It was a tangled mess.”
“You were always the glue that held your family together,” he said.
“No. Chad was the therapist,” she reminded him.
“But he knew you were the glue. He told me that,” Joe said. “He said Anna is the head of this family.”
“He said that? I mean, he told me I was capable but frankly I thought that was just his way of getting out of difficult situations and letting me handle them.”
Joe shook his head. “You were better at it. He knew that. He genuinely loved the kids and he was a trained therapist, but you knew instinctively what to do.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Sure would’ve been nice if I’d known it,” she muttered. “I lost a lot of sleep worrying about what to do next with all these wacky kids and their problems.”
“I think you’re going to get a break from worry—they’re all in a good place.” He laughed and walked her back into the house. “No telling what will come up next so don’t turn your back.”
“Oh, believe me, I won’t,” she said.
“Just know I plan to have your back till the end.”
Anna leaned against him. “A partner who has my back. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted.”
Please read on to enjoy an excerpt from
Robyn Carr’s novel Sunrise on Half Moon Bay
available now at your local bookseller.
Sunrise on Half Moon Bay
by Robyn Carr
ONE
Adele Descaro’s mother passed away right before Christmas. While she missed her mother, Adele was relieved to know she was no longer held prisoner in a body that refused to serve her. It had been four years since the stroke that left her crippled, nonverbal and able to communicate only with her eyes and facial expressions. Adele had been her primary caretaker for those four years and now, with Elaine at rest, she could get back to her own life. If she could remember what it was.
She was thirty-two and had actually spent the last eight years mostly as a caretaker. Mostly because Adele had also helped to care for her disabled father for four years. Her mother had done much of the work and then, within just a few months of his death, she had suffered her debilitating stroke. Devastated by this cruel turn of events, Adele resigned from the part-time job she’d taken as a bookkeeper at a local inn and dedicated herself to Elaine’s care full-time. There had been help from a visiting nursing service and from Justine, her much older sister. Justine was, in fact, twenty years older, now fifty-two.
Adele was happy she had made her mother’s care her priority, but was aware that in doing so, she had allowed herself to hide from her own life, to put off her own growth and keep her dreams and desires just out of reach. Now her opportunity was at hand. She lived in the comfort of the home she’d grown up in, had friends in her little town and the time to pursue whatever her heart desired.
Justine, a successful corporate attorney in Silicon Valley and the mother of two teenage girls, hadn’t been able to pitch in much time so she contributed to the cost of Elaine’s care and provided a modest income for Adele. She had made it a point to stay with Elaine every other Sunday so Adele could have at least a little freedom.
The truth was that for the past four years, or actually eight if you really thought about it, Adele had been fantasizing about how she would reinvent herself when the time came. Now that it was here, in the cold rainy months of a typical Pacific winter, she realized she had yet to come up with a plan.
Adele had left her graduate studies in English Literature at Berkeley to return home when her father was released from the hospital. “To help out,” she’d told her mother. Her father, Lenny, had been a maintenance supervisor for the Half Moon Bay school district and had taken a bad fall while trying to fix a heating vent in the ceiling of an auditorium. He was in a body cast for months, had several spinal surgeries and spent years either in traction or a wheelchair. But the worst of it was his pain, and he became dependent on powerful pain medications.
Adele’s mother needed her help, that was true. But she might still have continued her graduate studies. But Adele had another problem. She fell in love and got pregnant—accidentally. The father of her baby didn’t want the child, so in addition to her pregnancy, she suffered a broken heart. She’d intended to raise the child on her own but she’d suffered complications; her baby was stillborn and her already broken heart was completely shattered. The safety of her home was her refuge, even with her disabled father’s condition casting a pall over life there.