Page 38 of Patio Lanterns (The Blue Canoe Cottage #1)

Robin

Mutt trotted close by her side as Robin trudged up Rick’s driveway. Running on empty, the last of her energy now leaked out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She’d screwed up the party. She’d let her family down. And if that weren’t enough, she might’ve just lost Rick, too.

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, Robin began climbing the steep grade of the hill, steeling herself to fess up and take responsibility for the calamity she’d caused. As her fate loomed closer with every step, she envisioned the catastrophic scenarios about to unfold.

Rows of cars lined both sides of the street in front of the Blue Canoe Cottage.

People streamed into the yard from every direction, carrying baskets and coolers and bags.

As Robin approached, the steady hum of chatter grew louder, greeting her as a multitude of voices blended together into the most harmonious sound she’d ever heard.

Mutt barked and ran ahead of her to the backyard, where dozens of guests were talking and laughing, milling about, and staking out suitable spots for their lawn chairs. There were tables of food as far as the eye could see, opened coolers and chests of ice overflowing with cold drinks.

She saw Aidan and Mr. Stanhope working together to connect patio lanterns as fast as the neighbours donated new light strings.

Already, the yard was illuminated by a dazzling array of golden twinkle lights, but the added layers of colour—the pinks and reds, yellows and oranges, greens, and blues—created a radiant circle of love.

Lights of all shapes and sizes were burning brightly, glowing in the trees, draped over the fence and around the deck.

The backyard sparkled with a warmth and beauty unlike anything Robin had ever seen before.

“Look at what they’ve done for you, Mom,” Robin whispered through her tears. “It’s all for you.”

Dove, dressed impeccably in a breezy blouse and fitted white jeans, rushed over and threw her arms around her. “Oh, Rob, isn’t this wonderful?”

“Sure is,” she said, hugging her sister back. “Where did all these gorgeous lights come from?”

“I think I heard something about the Stanhopes having a group chat, and they put out the call,” Dove told her. “By the way, that delivery truck never did show up, you know.”

Robin pulled back first. “I know. There was a bit of a… uh, misunderstanding. But I’ll explain it all later,” she said. “Have you seen Lark?”

“Right now, she’s finding places to put all the food, but she’s been looking for you,” Dove said, grabbing Robin’s hand. “She’ll be relieved that you’re finally here.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just bet.” So she can tear me a new one.

The sisters moved through the masses, smiling and saying hello, thanking people for coming, gradually making their way to the cottage.

Inside was crowded with wall-to-wall guests.

Lark was in the kitchen, helping people to locate spoons and spatulas and whatever else they needed as an assortment of hot and cold dishes were stirred, sliced, and served up for the potluck. She waved Robin and Dove over.

“Oh my gosh, isn’t this amazing?” Lark beamed. “People started arriving all at once, and suddenly, we have a real party.”

“It is amazing,” Robin said, stunned to see Lark so delighted.

“I think we should get started soon. We don’t want all this food sitting out for long,” she said. “Do you have your eulogy ready?”

“ My eulogy?” Robin gulped. “But you’re first in the Pecking Order. I just assumed you’d do the talking for us.”

“Nonsense,” Lark said. “This was your idea. You should be the one to speak on behalf of the family.”

“You’ll do great, Rob,” Dove assured her. “I’ll bring Mom’s urn out with us.”

Robin took a deep breath. “Uh, well, I guess I could say a few words,” she said. “Can you give me ten minutes to collect my thoughts? I’d like to change anyway.”

“Make it five,” Lark said, fanning the fingers of her hand. “In the meantime, Dove and I will start moving everyone outside. We’ll meet you at the bow of Blue Canoe. Five minutes.”

Upstairs, Robin made a beeline for her mother’s closet and pulled out the coral dress she’d worn for her date with Rick. She loved how the silky-smooth fabric draped in all the right places, giving her an instant boost of confidence. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was meant to be.

“Thanks for the dress, Mom,” she whispered, deciding on the spot to keep it for herself. “And hey, I know you know I’m winging this, so if you could send some divine inspiration my way in the next ninety seconds, I’ll owe you big time.”

She tied her hair back, securing all but a few loose curls around her face, before dusting blush on her rosy cheeks and dotting a subtle sheen of gloss over her lips.

Taking one last look at her reflection in the mirror, she inhaled deeply to steady her nerves.

“Remember, it takes courage to make a fool of yourself.”

With guests now assembling in the backyard, the din in the cottage had fallen silent. Robin left the quiet sanctuary behind to join the party outdoors, carefully manoeuvring around people until she made her way to where Dove, Lark, and Nova were waiting.

“You ready?” Lark asked.

Robin nodded. Lark then turned and nodded to Aidan, who was standing nearby. He put his fingers between his lips and blew out a deafeningly loud taxi whistle to get everyone’s attention. A hush fell over the crowd.

“Uh, hi, everyone,” Robin waved. “My name is Robin Pelletier, and on behalf of my sisters, Lark and Dove, and Lark’s daughter, Nova, we’d like to welcome and thank you for coming to celebrate the life of our beautiful mother, Michelle, whom we all knew and loved as Micki,” she said.

“It was so nice to walk through the crowd earlier and hear so many of you sharing memories and stories about our mother with each other. Micki loved Lake Whippoorwill very much, and it’s all of you, her lake family, that really made it so special.

My sisters and I were touched to learn that several neighbours had stepped up to help Mom out with the care and maintenance of the cottage, and that’s continued, even in her absence.

Words can’t adequately express how grateful we are, but from the bottom of our hearts, thank you. ”

Robin looked over at Lark and Dove, both smiling back at her. She took a deep breath and continued.

“This community meant so much to our parents. They were proud to own property here, and made so many lasting friendships and connections,” she said.

“And while Lake Whippoorwill has changed through the years, what made it unique still remains. It’s you.

It’s your families, who staked out a piece of rock in the middle of the Canadian wilderness and built a home away from home.

It’s the memories we’ve shared, and it’s the stories we pass down from one generation to another. ”

Robin scanned the familiar faces in the crowd. The Stanhopes. The Koskies. The Kapoors. The Nicholsons. The Waterfields. There had to be nearly two hundred people standing in front of her. Yet, among the sea of faces, one in particular caught her eye.

Rick.

He came.

Robin smiled, and he smiled back at her. Everything was going to be okay. Just take a breath, stay focused, and keep going.

“I was thinking about Mom’s favourite Lake Whippoorwill story, and it has to be about how the Blue Canoe Cottage got its name. Bear with me if you’ve heard it before, because Mom loved telling it,” Robin said. There was a smattering of laughter.

“Our dad, Marc Pelletier, was the grandson of the man who built this cottage. And I recently learned that his wife was an incredible woman, who not only raised four children largely on her own, but also built and taught at a school here in town. She was a local activist who used her voice for the good of this community. But I digress,” Robin said with a little chuckle, thinking of Rosalie and her good friend Vera.

She wondered if Mrs. C had changed her mind and come.

Hopefully, she’d found a seat somewhere amongst the crowd.

“One summer, our dad Marc grew enamoured with the idea of building a canoe out of birch bark and cedar. Now, keep in mind, young Marc had never built a thing in his life, not even a birdhouse. But he fancied himself an adventurer and was determined to fulfill his dream of paddling Lake Whippoorwill in a canoe made with his own two hands,” she said with a little laugh.

“To borrow Red Green’s famous line, Marc was lucky the girls found him handsome, because he sure as heck wasn’t handy.

“Well, after endless starts and stops over the next two years, he enlisted a buddy to help him finally finish his project. Marc had pictured his canoe being painted a brilliant shade of red, but Crawley’s General Store had none left in stock.

So, he settled on blue—the colour of a clear sky on a perfect summer’s day,” she explained.

“By that time, Marc and his college girlfriend Micki had been going steady for a year and a half. And, as lovestruck young men are inclined to do, Marc became preoccupied with proposing that summer. He figured that his brand new homemade canoe would be just the vessel in which to pledge his undying love to Micki.”

Mr. Stanhope barked out laughing, prompting others around him to laugh, too.

“Wait, wait, don’t get too far ahead of me,” Robin told him.

“So, one moonlit evening, Marc suggested that Micki accompany him on his blue canoe’s maiden voyage across Lake Whippoorwill.

Marc nervously paddled out into the middle of the lake.

When the time had come, and the mood was right, he gathered up the courage to move off his seat into the middle of the canoe and pop the big question.

With a ring in his hand and love in his heart, Marc got down on one knee… and knelt in a puddle.”

Robin was delighted to hear laughter in the crowd, and let it die down before continuing.

“Picture Marc frantically paddling for shore while Micki desperately bailed water with nothing but her tiny shoe. But there was no use. The blue canoe swamped and sank before they reached the dock, and they had to swim the rest of the way,” Robin said.

“Turns out, Marc built his canoe using specifications for a one-man boat, not two,” she continued. “Fortunately for us standing up here, our mother married that silly, romantic fool anyway, and Marc’s canoe found a home on dry land, where it’s been our cottage’s permanent marker ever since.”

Applause started somewhere near the back of the crowd and spread quickly. “To Marc and Micki!” someone hooted.

“All this to say that our family cottage played an important role in Mom and Dad’s love story. The three of us are living proof of that, because we were each conceived right here,” Robin said, laughing along with her sisters.

“I always believed our names were a tribute to Lake Whippoorwill, but I think maybe it was because Marc and Micki themselves were like a pair of Canadian geese. They mated for life, and when the time came for one of them to leave, the other was not far behind.”

She sniffled, and Dove passed Robin a tissue so she could compose herself and continue.

“As kids, we knew we were a byproduct of our parents’ great love affair with one another and with Lake Whippoorwill, and we were lucky to be part of that,” she said.

“But I’d add that this community has played a role, too. And, like the patio lanterns that Mom loved so much, this community is a string of cherished friends who have become like family, each with their own unique set of colourful stories.”

Robin glanced at Aidan. He lowered his eyes.

“I was recently reminded that some things can’t be bought, and there are some things you can’t ever put a price on.

Not even for eighteen and a half percent over current market value,” she said, suddenly feeling emboldened.

“If you believe that Lake Whippoorwill’s history, its memories, and its stories are worth preserving, I hope you will remember that too. ”

There was a low rumble of murmuring. Robin decided to quickly wrap up.

“Thank you once again for coming, for these beautiful lights, and for the food you have prepared. To know Micki Pelletier was to love her, and we hope you know how much Micki loved you and loved being part of this community. By being here, you honour her, and by continuing to share your stories, her spirit lives on.” Robin’s voice quivered with emotion.

“I’m pretty sure Mom would especially love knowing that, unlike Dad’s handmade canoe, her memory will be unsinkable. ”

Everyone in the crowd clapped and cheered. Lark, Dove, and Robin embraced one another in a group hug as the tears flowed freely.

“Incredible job, Rob,” Dove sobbed. “Mom would’ve really loved it.”

Lark wiped her eyes. “How did you manage to come up with that in a few minutes?”

“I didn’t.” Robin smiled. “It was just kind of… off the cuff.”

“Well, I’m not sure how you did it, but you managed to pull it off,” Lark said. “I have never been so happy to have been proven so wrong about anything. You nailed it.”

“Happy to hear it,” Robin said. “And I’ll gladly accept your apology in the form of a cashier’s cheque.”

Lark laughed. “We’ll definitely talk about that inheritance later.”

“Girls,” interrupted Mrs. Stanhope, holding out a tray with three glasses of wine. “To toast your mother.”

They each took a glass, raising them high in the air. Everyone standing in front of them with a can, bottle or a cup in their hands did the same.

Dove led the salute. “To Micki.”

“To Micki,” echoed the crowd, warmly lifting a glass in her memory.

Lark then turned to Robin and Dove. “I think it’s time,” she said, eyeing the urn. They nodded in agreement.

Together, the sisters walked down to the edge of the lake and proceeded to the end of the dock. Each of Micki Pelletier’s daughters took a turn saying their final goodbyes, then gently, lovingly, set her free, and made her a forever part of Lake Whippoorwill.