Page 10 of Patio Lanterns (The Blue Canoe Cottage #1)

Robin

Being back inside the family cottage stirred up unexpected melancholy in Robin.

While the layout was the same, nearly everything else had changed.

The Blue Canoe Cottage she’d grown up in had a welcoming tiki hut vibe.

A tacky-chic blend of clashing furniture denoted function over fashion, punctuated by seashell lamps, wicker accessories, and pillows stitched with cheeky sayings like Resting Beach Face .

It was a perfectly mismatched collection curated through years of hand-me-downs, yard sale finds, and treasured gifts.

Robin didn’t know what in the blessed name of Debbie Travis had happened to the cottage she remembered, but its laid-back, kitschy goodness had been replaced with bland, minimalist décor and unexceptional, mass-manufactured furniture.

Even the seafoam board-and-batten walls were gone.

In their place was trendy shiplap painted in a luxe mayonnaise hue that her well-meaning mother probably paid far too much for because it was from the signature collection of Micki Pelletier’s latest favourite HGTV designer.

No matter how many coats of Alabaster Serenity Whateverthefuck were now on the walls, they still couldn’t cover the memories.

But the style choice did mark a stark juxtaposition between past and present—one foot planted in the cottage’s well-preserved family history, the other in the discounted home goods section at Winners.

Like in the kitchen, for example, where the renovation was only half complete.

Sleek new countertops and a tiled backsplash awash in the blues and greens of the Mediterranean Sea had been installed, yet the cupboards were starkly naked without door fronts, and the crooked drawers still had loose pull handles.

Also remaining were the slanted pine floors, the fabric panel that draped in front of the pantry, the beat-up cabinets with deeply grooved dings, and the farmhouse sink, stained from years and years of use, so rustic it had circled back to being stylish again.

“What’s the matter?” Dove asked Robin as they worked to unpack the sixth and seventh bags of groceries they’d shlepped from the city. Surprising how much fit inside a well-packed Land Rover.

“It’s changed,” Robin said sadly.

“What’s changed?”

“This place. Being here together. One second, it feels so familiar, and the next, you turn around…” Her voice trailed off when her eyes landed on her mother’s urn, situated on the kitchen counter. “And you realize that nothing will ever be the same.”

“Were you expecting a time capsule?” Lark asked, bouncing Nova on her hip as she loaded celery and peppers into the vegetable crisper.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Robin said. “I mean, I know Mom and Dad were doing work on the place, I just didn’t think it was so…”

“Extensive?” Dove filled in.

“Memory erasing. Seems that everything I used to love about this cottage has been painted over or removed altogether.”

“As if!” Lark cackled. “You hated being at the cottage.”

True, Robin never shared the immense connection to the cottage as the rest of her family, but it clearly held some space in a tiny, dark corner of her heart. “I may not have been as attached as you two, but I certainly wouldn’t say I hated it.”

“You could’ve kept coming up here with the rest of us, but I think it was especially hurtful to Mom and Dad that you chose not to,” Lark said.

“Gee, thanks, Lark. Now I feel like shit.”

“Look, we don’t blame you for wanting to stay in the city as soon as you were old enough,” Dove said. “You were never the same after that letter to Aidan.”

“You mean the day my life became a living hell when my very personal thoughts were passed around like a copy of Reader’s Digest ? Yeah, not one of my fondest memories,” Robin said, catching Dove and Lark exchanging a look across the kitchen. “What?”

“Nothing,” they chirped in unison.

“Come on, something’s going on,” Robin demanded. “Tell me.”

“Should we?” Lark asked Dove.

Dove shrugged. “Might as well. She’s going to find out later anyway.”

“That surprise I had? Well, it’s Aidan,” Lark said. “I invited him for dinner tonight.”

The blood rushed from Robin’s head. Probably because it just exploded. “Aidan Hunter is coming over tonight?” She gulped down the lemon-sized lump in her throat. “Cool, cool. Cool.”

“He’s got a place nearby on Mirror Bay, so I thought it’d be fun to have him over for old time’s sake and catch up.”

“Great.” Robin shrugged nonchalantly, but inside, her heart beat so loud she was sure her sisters could hear it too.

Dove laughed. “Geez, Rob, I’m surprised. I really thought you’d be freaking out.”

“Me? No,” she scoffed. “I mean, so what? All that stuff with Aidan is ancient history. I’ve barely thought about the guy since I last saw him.”

Lark bounced her eyebrows. “Well, he definitely remembers you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does. As your dorky little sister.”

“And he’s still single.”

“Is he?” Robin’s voice cracked. “I mean, so what?”

“He’s done quite well for himself too,” Lark reported, eyeing Robin up and down. “Do you have anything else to wear tonight besides those ratty jean shorts?”

“Of course I do. My Christian Siriano custom couture is in the van,” Robin sneered, and Dove snickered.

“You really have to start putting more effort into your appearance if you want to be taken seriously,” Lark told her. “Tonight would be an ideal time to start.”

Robin glared. “I’ll wear whatever I feel like wearing, thank you very much.”

Dove intervened. “I might have something you can try on, Rob,” she said. That was unlikely, given that Dove was several inches taller, with slender hips and pert little teacup tits. Robin probably wouldn’t even fit into her hat.

“Okay, thanks,” she conceded. “We can have a look.”

Lark clapped. “Excellent. And I’ll take care of making dinner, you two set the table. They’ll be here at seven.”

“They?” Robin questioned.

“Oh, right,” Lark said. “Forgot to mention that Aidan is bringing his father with him.”

“I didn’t even know Aidan had a father,” Robin said.

Dove laughed. “Well, of course he does, silly.”

“No, I meant, one who was still in the picture. Weren’t his folks divorced when Aidan was like, a baby? He only ever came to the lake with his mom.”

“They were estranged for some time,” Lark said. “But Aidan says they’ve recently started trying to patch their relationship.”

“That’s nice,” Dove said.

“It sounds like it’s still a pretty delicate situation. Aidan says the poor guy’s depressed and withdrawn and practically living like a recluse. He thought it’d be good to get his dad out for a bit.”

“Hoo boy, sounds like a real party,” Robin snarked.

“It’s only for a couple of hours, and it’d mean a lot to Aidan,” Lark said. “You don’t have to do anything but be your charming, bubbly self, dear sister. Well, that, and maybe try to do something with your hair.”

Dove put down the tin of tomatoes in her hand and made another one of her classic peacemaker pivots. “You know what? The rest of these groceries can wait. What do you say we all go outside and raise a glass to Mom in her chardonnay chalet?”

Serenity was restored as the sisters sat out on the sun-dappled deck that wrapped around the second storey of the cottage. Wine in hand, they lounged side by side, basking in the picturesque view of Lake Whippoorwill, framed by majestic pines and endless blue sky.

“Why do you think Mom wanted her cremains spread over the water?” Robin said, breaking the silence. “I mean, I know Mom and Dad both loved being here, but why wouldn’t she choose a spot next to him?”

“Being buried in the backyard wasn’t Dad’s choice,” Lark said, bouncing Nova on her knee to keep her from jumping on Mutt’s back and riding “that filthy animal” like a horsie.

“Mom always joked that if he didn’t choose his own final resting place, she’d stick that son of a birch in a biodegradable urn and turn him into a tree. So she did.”

“Now that’s true love,” Dove said, hoisting her wine glass. “Here’s to Marc and Micki, together again. May you enjoy driving each other crazy for eternity.”

The girls clinked glasses and shared a laugh.

“You know,” Lark said, her chin trembling, “whenever I’m sad or feel cheated that we lost them both far too young and within such a short time, I tell myself it’s because they needed each other. And I take comfort in knowing that they’re together again.”

“Dad probably couldn’t keep track of his keys in heaven, either.” Robin sniffled as she smiled. “He always said he’d be useless without her.”

Dove nodded. “I really miss them a lot.”

“Me too,” Robin echoed.

“Me too,” Lark agreed. “Especially being here again.”

“Actually, speaking of the cottage,” Dove said, “the three of us really ought to decide if we’re going to keep it or sell it. We can’t keep its ownership in trust forever.”

“And we know what happens in this family when you can’t make a decision,” Robin said. “You get planted in the backyard and leaves sprout out of you every spring.”

Lark looked at her sisters. “Okay then. On three, let’s each say what we think we should do with this place. Ready? One… two…”

“Sell it,” Robin said.

“Keep it,” Lark said.

“Rent it out for extra income,” Dove said. “I mean, why not? Muskoka properties are an excellent investment. The rental market is solid, and it’s a sustainable revenue stream.”

“I don’t want strangers living in our family’s cottage,” Lark said adamantly.

“Not living in it, just borrowing it,” Dove said. “We can still keep it for when we want to use it, and rent it out the rest of the time, generating passive income for us all.”

“Income which we have to claim when we file our taxes,” Lark reminded her.