As a fresh morning breeze wafted from the nearby beach, April stepped outside to wave at her friend Deb cycling toward her. On Crown Island, locals splashed their homes in all shades of the spectrum, like sun-dazzled gemstones tumbled from the heavens surrounded by a sapphire ocean. Nearby, the Majestic Hotel was the magnificent ruby in the crown and the heart of the community.
Depending on the street, some houses were sherbet-colored, cool and refreshing on a summerβs day. Other neighborhoods boasted hot, happy colors, spilling forth like jelly beans. And on another side of the island, riotous shades bled from houses and swirled onto muraled walls in crescendos of color.
Deb eased to a stop in front of Aprilβs house. Or rather, it was her motherβs home, a pop of deep, rosy pink amidst a neighboring sea of blue bungalows and sunny yellow cottages. Only the towering house at the end of the block stood out in blinding white.
April adjusted the brim of her cotton visor against the sun. βI thought you might have forgotten about our ride.β
βSorry Iβm late.β Deb rubbed her shoulder. βI took a run on the beach with Duke this morning. Another dog attacked him, and I had to bandage a gash on Dukeβs snout. He fought me over that part, but heβll be alright.β
βPoor Duke.β Debβs rescue shepherd-collie mix was usually playful. βItβs okay. Iβve been cleaning up this old bike.β April eased onto the seat.
Deb peered at the tires. βDo you have an air pump? Your tires look low.β
April slid off and bent down to inspect the tires. βYouβre right. This will only take a minute.β
Her mother had stored bikes in her garage for years and kept them in good repair. Still, salt air could creep into every crevice. Specks of rust dotted the faded bubblegum-pink frame of her beloved old bike, and cracks from the summer heat etched a web across the seat. She drew her hand wistfully across the old handlebars.
βA little air in the tires, and sheβll be almost as good as new.β April set the kickstand and brought out a bicycle pump. Hitching up her knee-length shorts, she squatted by the bike.
Her closest friend from childhood perched on a gleaming bike, her sun-bronzed shoulders still toned and taught. Unlike April, whoβd moved away thirty years ago, Deb had never left Crown Island except for vacations. Maybe thatβs why she still looked healthy and fit. No mom-shorts for her. She wore slim bike shorts and a tank top that showed off toned upper arms.
April covered hers with a navy hoodie that bore a history association logo. Deb was tall, blond, and blue-eyedβmore like Aprilβs mother in her youth. In contrast, April thought of herself as fairly average. Her only distinguishing feature was her deep green eyes, which sheβd recently learned she shared with a newly discovered set of aunts and cousins.
Deb leaned on her handlebars. βSince youβre spending the year here, youβll have time to refurbish that bike.β
With a small smile, April said, βI donβt think Iβll have time after all.β She bent to secure the pump nozzle to the tire valve. βCalvin called.β
The early morning call from her husband had been a surprise, especially because the genuine regret in his voice was evident. Darling, Iβm so sorry and ashamed for all Iβve put you through. But I want us to make this right because you and the girls mean the world to me. I canβt bear to lose your love.
These were the words sheβd been longing to hear from Calvin. Family meant everything to April because sheβd lost her father as a teenager. Reuniting her currently fractured family and helping her daughters find their true pathsβthis is what April longed for.
Although, admittedly, sheβd heard her husbandβs words before. Yet, here they were again.
Several months ago, April had taken a leave of absence from teaching history at a university in Seattle, Washington, to care for her mother on Crown Island, an artist colony just off the coast of Southern California and south of the Channel Islands.
A severe case of pneumonia had landed Ella Raines in the hospital, and she needed her daughter. Fortunately, her mother was never to be underestimated. Ella had rallied back, even returning to her yoga practice at home. Having worked as a nurse, sheβd also received the best care in the local hospital she and her husband had helped establish fifty years ago.
But that wasnβt the only reason April had ditched her summer classes and gone on hiatus. After what Calvin had done, she couldnβt face her fellow faculty members. Their eyes were full of pity for her, understandably.
And she hated that. She turned back to her friend.
Deb raised her brow. βAre you sure you want another ticket on that rollercoaster?β
βWe have a family,β April replied, maybe a little too curtly.
Deb held up a hand. βJust checking in with you.β
Instantly, April regretted her defensive tone with Deb. Still, with Calvinβs charisma and good looks, her husband could hardly help attracting attention. For the last time, she hoped, with guarded relief. Soon, all that would be behind them.
Deb shot her a look of warning, but before she could say anything, Aprilβs mother opened the screen door. As Ella Raines stepped out, her thick, lustrous silver hair glistened in the sunlight like a halo. Her casual, blue cotton beach dress hung on her lean, usually fit frame now thinned by illness, although she was regaining her strength. βWhat a gorgeous day for a ride. In a few weeks, I should be strong enough to join you for an easy spin on the beach.β
Debβs face brightened. βJust in time, Ella. Would you talk some sense into your daughter? Sheβs threatening to leave.β
Instantly, her motherβs face drooped. βYouβre not going home already, are you?β
βI was going to tell you, but Calvin called as I was dressing. He was getting ready for a flight for a meeting in San Francisco. After that, heβll catch another flight south and take the ferry. Heβll be here this evening.β April plastered a confident smile on her face. βIβll ask him to stay over the weekend, but I imagine I should be ready to return with him to Seattle when he wants.β
βSo soon?β Ella asked.
At the sight of her motherβs expression, April quickly added, βIβll be back to visit as soon as possible. Iβm sure Junie will want to stay with you.β After what her daughter had been through, she needed sunshine and fresh air.
Ella nodded with reluctant acceptance. βYou have your life to live, but it should be your best life, dear.β
Remorse about leaving her mother poured over Aprilβs shoulders, but she was also pleased that Calvin was on his way. βYou always told me to fight for what I wanted. Calvin is retiring in ten years, maybe before. He wants to take off in an RV and travel the country, and heβd like to take a cruise every year. Maybe do some volunteer work.β
Deb twirled a finger at her. βSomewhere in all those words, I thought Iβd hear what you wanted, but they were all about Calvin.β
βI want that, too.β April lifted her chin, masking the pain in her heart. βHeβs still my husband. And the girls will be devastated if we donβt get back together.β
Even though sheβd left to look after her mother, they both agreed it was a good time for a trial separation. The truth was, theyβd been emotionally separated far longer. Calvin had also left her bed a year ago, feigning trouble sleeping and taking over the guest room.
Taking each front step with care, Ella joined them. βTheyβre not children anymore. They would understand if you had to make a choice. MayβI mean, Maileahβhas quite the worldly attitude.β She pressed a finger to her lip. βI keep forgetting her new name.β
βI worry about Junie.β Her youngest daughterβs husband had died in a freak traffic accident on a business trip to London two years ago. Even though relations between Junie and Calvin were strained, she needed her father.
While her mother acknowledged that, it didnβt stop her. βJunie is stronger than you realize, my dear. About your husbandβbe selfish this time. Tell him what you want.β
βI have, and I will.β Air hissed from the valve as April bent over to unscrew the dust cap on the wheel, and she could feel the blood rushing to her face. Anger, hurt, embarrassment, and disillusionment swirled in her, but she always harbored hope for a better future. Sheβd been through so much with Calvin.
April threw her energy into the bicycle pump, forcing air into the tire to fill it to capacity. If only such exertion could fill her marriage with renewed passion.
Her mother watched. βIt pains me to see you hurt.β
βThese affairs run their course.β April switched the nozzle and pumped air into the second tire with equal vengeance. Over the years, her husband had slipped up before, but never in their own backyard at the university. And with a leggy Russian woman the same age as their children? She puffed out air at the thought.
βWhat was he thinking?β she mumbled.
Suddenly, she realized sheβd said that last bit out loud.
Her mother seized on her words. βThe question is, what are you thinking? Youβve hardly heard from him all summer.β
βWell, now I have.β April bit back with a sharper response than she had intended. Worry and agitation werenβt good for her motherβs health. βIβve weighed my options, Mama. Iβve worked hard for our future, and Iβm not backing down when itβs right around the corner.β
βIβd love for you to stay a little longer,β her mother added softly. She placed a hand on Aprilβs shoulder. βA few more weeks might give you more clarity.β
As April snapped off the nozzle, air hissed out again. Quickly she screwed on the dust cap. βYou canβt fault me for trying to keep my family intact. You remember the wonderful life we had before Dad died. And what we lost.β
βWe all have a time, so I focused on being grateful that you were put into my life,β her mother said, her lids lowering slightly at the memory. βYour situation is different, though equally painful. At some point, you must decide what you want for yourself.β
βDonβt think I havenβt.β
Immediately, April wished she could withdraw her words. A pang of guilt shot through her. The young girl, tucked inside a body now surprisingly over fifty, still longed for a deeper sense of family. For years, she had missed holidays with her father, carving a turkey, setting up a Christmas tree, and shooting fireworks over the ocean. Her mother carried on, but it was never the same. April couldnβt do that to her daughters and their eventual offspring.
She put the bike pump away in the garage.
βIβll shut the garage from inside,β Ella said.
Deb shared a look with Ella that seemed to say, Iβll try.
But how could Deb understand any of this? Sheβd never been married, and her parents and brothers still lived on the island.
βYour mother will miss you,β Deb said. βAnd what will you do if youβre not teaching?β
βThere might be an opening in the second semester. In the meantime, I can review my research notes for that book Iβve outlined. Maybe even start writing.β However, the words werenβt flowing. And before returning to teach, April needed more time to let this ugly incident blow over.
One of her friends had told her that Olga had left the graduate program and planned to pursue her masterβs degree at another private university. But when April pressed her friend, a professor in that department, she admitted sheβd seen the tall, buxom Russian woman on campus. With a mane of blond hair and legs that went on forever, Olga was hard to missβand presumably, equally hard to resist.
Maybe Olga was only on campus to see friends, she told herself.
βYou could write here,β Ella said, interrupting her thoughts.
Swallowing her pride, April reached out and hugged her mother. βI know both of you only want whatβs best for me. But Iβm trying to do whatβs best for my family.β
βWhat a shame theyβre not the same.β When her mother pulled away, redness rimmed her eyes. βA ride will be good for you, dear. The sea breeze always clears my mind, helping me see problems with greater clarity.β
Deb nodded emphatically. βIβll take her on the Queenβs Flight.β She wheeled from the driveway.
April followed, glancing back to reassure her mother. Although she was sure of what she needed to do, her motherβs words clung to her like foxtails on the island trails. Once stuck in your hair, they were hard to get out.
Sort of like Calvin Smith.
April inhaled a deep breath of fresh, briny air and instantly felt her burden lighten. Her mother was right about that, too. Rising on her pedals, she quickened her pace to catch Deb.
βWait up.β Panting from the exertion of riding and pushing her bike uphill, April paused to peer down the other side. Standing at the high point of Crown Island, she rested on her handlebars, taking in the view.
The morning sun sparkled on the Pacific Ocean, and palm trees swayed in the light wind. From this vantage point, Crown Island shimmered like a rare jewelβso named after a talented jeweler to the courts of Europe, whose specialty was crowns and tiaras. The island was a gift for her service to the crown during the latter part of the Spanish Colonial period in California. From here, April and her childhood friends used to spot whales, sea lions, and seals off the coast. Now, the island contained a bustling village and a sprawling nature conservancy home to more than two hundred species of birds and animal wildlife.
April lifted her face to the ocean breeze that cooled her face.
Ahead of her on the trail, her friend Deb waited. That is, Deborah Whitaker of the Crown Island founding Whitakers and a one-time princess in the annual island parade when they were fifteen. With her stature and poise, Deb could still pass for island royalty, even four decades later. Her artfully tinted blond braid hung between her shoulders. She was the best friend April had ever had.
When April returned to Crown Island at the beginning of the summer to look after her mother, Deb was the first one who called to offer help. April had confided in her when Calvin told her he needed a break from their marriage. Maybe sheβd told Deb too much of the ugly side of her marriage and not enough of the good.
When April reached her friendβs side, she stopped. βWhew. Wasnβt sure I could make it up here.β
βI knew you could.β Deb stretched her arms over her head in the sunshine. βIβve been thinkingβ¦if you could do anything besides teaching, anywhere in the world, what would that be?β She pointed to April like they used to when they were young. βGo.β
April gazed out over the island. Not far away, the old Majestic Hotel with its red-and-white wooden cupolas rose from its seaside perch, its red roof contrasting with the bluest of skies. Last spring, her mother had led a community effort to block the ownerβs plan to modernize it. Ella Raines had fiercely argued against it at City Hall. She had prevailed, even though her tenacity had come at a cost to her health. Ella always pushed herself. This time, she had allowed her immune system to become rundown.
βThis might sound wild,β April began. βBut that Victorian lady kindled my love of history. Remember the field trip we took there?β
βDo I ever. The manager let us climb the restricted stairway to the main cupola. The highest point of the hotelβfour whole stories. It seemed to stretch to the heavens back then.β Deb grinned. βYou never answered me.β
April blurted out the first thing that came to mind, βI would study the history of that hotel and Crown Island. We have such a unique past. It shouldnβt be lost.β
βGhosts and all?β
βI donβt think the Majestic is haunted,β April said, despite Debβs skeptical look. βI found its history so intriguing. Film stars, presidents, royalty, and gangsters have stayed there. Until then, that was the oldest structure Iβd ever seen. All those black-and-white photographs and stories of old movies shot there fascinated me.β
βObsessed is more like it.β Deb laughed. βYou were like Nancy Drew sleuthing all over the hotel. I was a little jealous because you wrote so many papers about it. You got Aβs on every one of them. If you want to write a book, why not one on the history of the hotel and the island?β
April leaned on her handlebars. βWasnβt someone working on that?β
βYouβre thinking of Ruth Miller. She collected a lot of material and spoke about the need for a preservation society, but sadly, she didnβt live long enough to fulfill her mission.β
βOh, I didnβt know. How sad for her. Still, the island needs a historical society.β The idea intrigued April. As a member of a national historical association through her university work, she understood the significance of preservation and its impact on future generations.
βI could get behind a project like that,β she said. βThe Majestic Hotel has a wealth of stories, though there are many others about how this island developed and the indigenous people who lived here over the centuries. But the Majesticβ¦thatβs the real jewel of the island.β
βMaybe weβll meet the new owner soon.β With a wink, Deb stood on her pedals, eager to go.
βWait, someone finally bought it? Who?β She glanced at the hotel again, concerned about what would become of it under new ownership.
βAnother investor. I havenβt met him, but I will. The interiors of the Majestic need a redesign, and I want that job.β Deb grinned and nodded toward the descent. βCome on, letβs do this. You remember how, donβt you?β
βSure,β April replied, forcing a grin as she gazed down the trail they had christened the Queenβs Flight when they were kids. Legend had it a woman had fled from her husband down this hill, running so fast that sheβd become airborne, rising to the clouds in her escape. It wasnβt as steep as sheβd recalled from childhood, but it was still unnerving.
βYou have to clear your mind and keep your focus,β Deb reminded her. βDonβt do a Jimmy.β
April cringed. She could still see little Jimmy Carlton, who had broken a leg when heβd lost control. Theyβd been about ten years old, tearing around the island with minimal supervisionβswimming, surfing, biking.
Over the years, every time April had returned for a visit, her mother suggested they go for a bike ride along the strand. As the salt-laden wind whipped around her, April wished sheβd taken more time to do thatβand kept it up.
βGive me a minute.β
Her heart pounding like a jackhammer, she drew another deep breath. As she recalled, the descent was magical, but only if you could empty your mind and imagine gliding across the terrain ahead, willing your wheels to find the unobstructed path. Over the years, the trail had hardened to a smooth surface, but rain still left dangerous pockmarks. She had no idea if kids still filled them in.
As children, this hillside, so regally named, had been their pinnacle of achievement, their badge of courage. It had also seemed much taller back then.
Amateur stuff, her oldest daughter would say. But then, Mayβor Maileah, as she now preferredβwas an avid marathon runner and adventure seeker who also worked in technology. She functioned at a high level of intensity every day.
Not quite able to achieve the necessary frame of mind, April held up a hand. βIβm a little out of shape.β Physically and emotionally. She used to work out a few years ago. But her life had changed so fast this summer sheβd gotten emotional whiplash.
If that was a thing, as her students in World History 101 would say. First, it was Calvinβs latest midlife crisis; next, her motherβs hospitalization; then, a host of new family members in nearby Summer Beach. Not even her parents had been informed of Aprilβs family or ancestry when they adopted her. Closed adoption was all that Ella had been told.
All these incidents sent shock waves through April. However, the discovery of a new family was welcome, if not a little overwhelming. Unbeknownst to her, her daughter Junie had done a DNA test. Still, sheβd been excited when Junie arranged a meeting with her cousin Ivy Bay and her family at the Seabreeze Inn. There, April presented the best version of herself, reluctant to share what was really happening in her life.
Although she loved digging into history, she didnβt like sharing her own.
Having caught her breath, she lifted her chin toward her friend. βItβs hard to keep up with you.β
Deb put a hand on her hip. βIf you stay, Iβll help get you in shape, professor.β
April smirked back at her. βCalvin was the tenured professor. I was the lowly lecturer.β That still rankled her.
βYou raised the girls and did his laundry.β
βAnd a lot more than that.β No one knew, but sheβd written most of his doctorate dissertation and almost every article heβd published after that. Heβd been the universityβs rising star in the psychology department. She wondered how many women were the real force behind their husbands. Narrowing her eyes, she added to herself, βLook at how he thanked me.β
Over the summer, April had reviewed her circumstances. Was it really love that still bound her to Calvin, or was it the uncertainty of being on her own? Sheβd spent most of her adult life with him. Even though he wasnβt always considerate of her, would another man be any different?
Yet, as outrageous as his behavior had been, they had a history. To her, that counted for a lot. And now, he was on his way back to her.
Swiftly changing the subject, Deb pointed to the new water bottle sheβd given April this morning. βYou must be well hydrated, especially for the Queenβs Flight. Drink.β
βYes, maβam.β As April swallowed a mouthful of cool water, she peered down the other side of the hill.
As a girl, this hilltop had seemed almost insurmountable. She recalled pedaling uphill, her skinny legs burning with exertion, determined to make it to the top, even when other friends hopped off their bikes to run beside her and Deb. To them, the burn was as satisfying as the flight down the other side and made that intense, windswept race even more gratifying.
Debβs face was pink with excitement. βReady to fly?β
βI think so.β Could she still do it? At her age, she hesitated whenever she thought of doing something physically demanding. The last time sheβd gone skiing with Maileah, sheβd kept to the bunny hills instead of the mogul-pocked expert slopes sheβd once loved to tackle. Her daughter had left her at the base.
βOn your right,β came a deep voice behind her.
April turned to see a man in tight biking shorts and a screaming yellow shirt whiz past her. He looked like he was training for the Tour de France. She nodded to him, but he stared straight ahead, intent on the path ahead. He careened down, seeming to find every bump on the trail and fighting his way over it.
That wasnβt the way to do it, April suddenly remembered.
Lowering her sunglasses, Deb laughed. βTourist.β
βYou think?β
βNice muscles, but he didnβt even twitch a finger toward us.β
βYou mean toward you.β April laughed as she put her bottle away. Deb was what her mother called a real looker, even now.
As for the issue of acknowledgment, locals kept to a different code. A nod, a smile, a moment to talk about the high tide, the low tide, or what strange item had washed up on the shore last week. April understood.
Here, people never knew when they might have to call on a neighbor to help. Floods, fires, earthquakesβher parents had lived through a lot on this small island just north of San Diego.
April had left as soon as she could for the mainland, a mere fifteen minutes by ferry. But that had been far enough. Going to college in Los Angeles had been like living on another planet.
Deb pushed her sunglasses up on her nose, tilted her face to the sun, and drew a deep breath to get into the zone. βLetβs fly. Meet you at the base, then weβll head to Cuppa Joβs.β
Ahead of her, Deb glided over the path. Slowly, she released the handlebars, swept her arms to her sides, and lifted her palms skyward as her wheels skimmed the surface, seeming to find their way to the smoothest parts.
Closing her eyes, April recalled that feeling of meditative cruising. It had been easier back then. Itβs mind over matter, her mother always said. Like riding the moguls.
That attitude is probably what pulled her mother through.
Deb was right. April needed to get back into the rhythm of life. Now that her mother was better, she would return to Calvin, and they would go on as they always had. He would express his remorse, and she would forgive him.
One eye twitched at that thought.
Determined to follow Debβs lead, April pushed off down the hill.
