The Women of Great Heron Lake
Book Description:
Two strong women, generations apart, living parallel lives.
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| Cover by Tugboat Design |
Now available in Audiobook!
Prologue
Marla sat in the stuffy, closed-up bedroom watching each
labored breath her husband took. He was almost gone; she knew the end was near.
After over a year of suffering from pancreatic cancer, that had eventually
spread, his body could stand no more. She watched his chest rise and fall and
listened to his ragged breathing. Yet, she sat silently, waiting.
Gently, she took his bony hand in hers.
At last, it happened. He exhaled, a long, final sigh. He was
gone.
Marla stood stiffly, walked slowly to the window, and pushed
aside the old heavy draperies her husband had always insisted they keep. She
unlocked the window and slid it open. Fresh, crisp, spring air floated in, and
she inhaled deeply. Marla desperately hoped that his soul would escape the
confines of this room on the scented spring breeze.
“Goodbye, Nathan,” she said softly.
Marla turned and walked out the door, not ready to notify
anyone yet. Walking down the long hallway, ignoring its oppressive dark walls
and woodwork, she continued taking deep cleansing breaths. She should be sad,
but no tears came. With each step, her spirit grew lighter.
She was free.
Chapter One
Marla
Marla Madison drifted through the crowd of mourners in her
home, gracefully accepting their heartfelt condolences. The great room was
filled with Nathan’s oldest friends and colleagues from the university. Even
former students had come to pay their respects to their once beloved English
and Literature professor. It was a wonderful tribute for a man who had lived a
relatively quiet, private life.
She ran her hand over the skirt of her black Chanel suit,
smoothing out creases that had formed throughout the long, warm day, and
glanced at her reflection in one of the tall windows. Her short hair was still
neat, and her mascara hadn’t run—yet. However, her feet ached in her
high-heeled pumps and her head hurt, as well. Despite the well-meaning wishes
from those who’d gathered, Marla longed to be alone. But she continued to smile
politely and nod at each guest and thank them for coming to pay their respects.
Scanning the room, Marla checked to ensure the servers were
passing around appetizers and offering beverages to the guests. She spotted
their longtime housekeeper, Florence Cooper, standing stiffly in her black
uniform watching the women with a keen eye. Marla should have known Mrs. Cooper
would have everything under control.
Marla turned to say a few words to the president of the
Great Heron Lake Yacht Club that Nathan had belonged to since he was a mere
boy. She caught the eye of her daughter, Reese, sitting on one of the leather
sofas by the stone fireplace with her most recent boyfriend, Chad Winters. She
could tell from Reese’s red-rimmed, blue eyes that she’d had enough. The
funeral had been long and the reception line had been endless. Now, with the
house full of people, Marla knew that like her, Reese was on her last nerve.
Despite being an adult of twenty, Reese was still her father’s little girl and
today had been especially difficult for her.
Anthony Williams, the family attorney, appeared at Marla’s
side and gently touched her arm. “Marla. You look exhausted. Would you prefer
we wait until Monday for the reading of the will?”
She turned and gave their old friend a wan smile. Anthony
had been buddies with Nathan since childhood. They’d sailed, golfed, and even
attended college together. But while Nathan had maintained a youthful
appearance into his sixties, until he’d become ill, Anthony hadn’t been as
lucky. At sixty-five, his once thick, dark hair was balding and nearly gray,
and lines were etched around his warm brown eyes. He’d also become quite
portly, partly due to his eating at the club most nights since his wife had
passed away the year before. But he was still the gentlemanly, caring friend
he’d always been. Marla appreciated him, especially now.
“No, let’s go ahead with it today,” she said. “I have a
feeling Reese will want to go back to her townhouse in St. Paul before the
weekend is over.”
Anthony shook his head disapprovingly. “She should spend
time here with you. I’m sure the university would understand if she missed a
few more days.”
Marla sighed. She wished it were that simple, but she knew
that now Reese’s beloved father was gone, she’d spend even less time at home.
She and Reese had never been able to create the bond mothers and daughters were
supposed to have. Especially not the same type of close relationship Reese had
enjoyed with Nathan. Father and daughter had connected the moment Reese was
born, and it remained that way over the past twenty years. And while Marla was
pleased that Nathan had been able to enjoy fatherhood and bond easily with his
child at an age when many men were becoming grandfathers, she’d always felt
left out when father and daughter were together.
Now, Reese would have an empty spot in her heart that her
father had once held.
Marla hoped she’d be able to help fill even a little of that
space, but she knew it wouldn’t be an easy task.
Marla looked up at Anthony. “I’ll say a few goodbyes to our
guests then we can meet in Nathan’s den.”
He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile before turning
away.
“Oh, darling! What will you do now without your Nathan? He
was the true north that guided your family.” In her black sheath dress, dripping
in diamonds and white gold, her friend, Victoria Carter, swooped down upon her
and gave her a gentle hug. Her husband, Marshall, owned a chain of high-end
jewelry stores in the Twin Cities and Vicki modeled their wares quite
beautifully. Tall, slender, and with auburn hair and green eyes, Vicki was
gorgeous. Her most recent hospital visit to tighten a sagging jawline had
helped to ensure that beauty lasted.
Vicki was her closest friend, even though Marla sometimes
felt a little put off by her. They’d met over twenty years before at the Great
Heron Lake Yacht Club beside the Olympic-sized pool, both pregnant and feeling
like whales. From that day forward they’d been fast friends, golfing together
in the women’s league, volunteering at the same organizations, and planning
school fundraisers together. Their daughters were born within days of each
other and had also been friends throughout their school years. But despite
their friendship, Marla bristled at the words that had just left Vicki’s mouth.
The true north that
guided their family? Did her friend really believe that it was Nathan who’d
kept their lives running smoothly for the past twenty-two years?
“It will be difficult without Nathan,” Marla said softly,
keeping her thoughts to herself. “But Reese and I will soldier through.”
“Oh, but Marla,” Vicki continued in her dramatic way,
“Nathan was everything! You two were inseparable. It must be devasting to you.
And poor Reese! She was the apple of her father’s eye. Poor dear.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Marla said, rubbing her friend’s upper
arm. She watched as Vicki accepted another glass of white wine and sipped it.
Her blood-red lipstick made half-circles on the rim of the glass. Vicki loved
her wine. Marla wondered just how many glasses her friend had already consumed.
Marla shook a few more hands and visited a moment with her
other close friend, Catrina Richardson, another club member whose husband used
to golf regularly with Nathan. It didn’t go unnoticed by Marla that all their
friends were an extension of people who’d known him through his club or his
work.
As the crowd thinned, Reese walked over to her mother with
Chad in tow. Marla had only exchanged a few words with Chad since they’d
arrived late Wednesday night, but she already knew she liked him better than
the last four young men Reese had dated. He was from a wealthy family—old
money, of course—yet was very down-to-earth and polite. Compared to Reese’s
former biker boyfriend, and adventure-seeking one, Marla thought Chad might be
a keeper.
“When is Florence going to push everyone out the door?”
Reese asked, sounding annoyed. “She’s good at doing that. I’m so sick of being
friendly when all I want to do is be left alone.”
“I know, dear.” Marla wrapped her arm around her daughter’s
waist. “But we can’t be rude. Everyone means well by being here. Your father
would have been honored to see such a turnout of old and new friends.”
Reese wrinkled her nose. “Dad would have hated this too. He
was happiest in his den, surrounded by his books.”
Marla nodded as she studied her daughter. She was such a
beautiful girl with pleasing features, a tall, lean body, and long, thick blond
hair. But sometimes her impatience and, if Marla were honest, superior
attitude, made her seem less beautiful. She’d learned her perspective from her
father, who, despite being a good person, could also display superiority over
what he called “common people.” He was from an older generation and an old
money family, and sometimes that outdated attitude came out in him.
Reese pulled away from her mother and headed for the kitchen.
Marla knew exactly what she was up to and soon saw Mrs. Cooper round up the
women serving food and beverages and sending them to the kitchen. Once the food
was gone, so also would the crowd.
Marla shook her head and sighed. Mrs. Cooper had been with
the family for fifty years, since she started as an upstairs maid at age
twenty. She’d worked her way up to head housekeeper and had since run the home.
Even now, long after the days of house guests and weekend parties were gone,
and the cleaning had been delegated to a service that came twice a week because
of Mrs. Cooper’s arthritic hands and bad knees, she still ruled the house with
an iron fist. Nathan’s family had set up a pension for her years before, and
Nathan had bought her a nice cottage on the lake to retire to when she turned
sixty-two, but the woman still had not left. She’d been there so long, no one
had the heart to tell her to go. And Marla would have felt the same way if Mrs.
Cooper hadn’t regarded her with disdain over the past twenty-two years.
The people finally filed out as Marla bid several of them
goodbye. Soon she and Reese were sitting in the den across from Nathan’s
antique desk where Anthony sat. He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his
jacket pocket and perused the papers he’d taken from his briefcase.
“Well, there isn’t much to tell you that you probably don’t
know already,” Anthony said. “Nathan’s will is simple and clear-cut. Since
Reese had been left an ample trust fund by her grandmother, which she will
inherit when she turns twenty-one, Nathan felt that would be more than enough
money to provide for her. Reese will take ownership of the townhouse Nathan
purchased for her in St. Paul, and her bills and college tuition will be paid
for out of an account he’d left for those needs. Otherwise, this house, and all
the rest of the money is left to you, Marla.”
Reese sat there with her legs crossed, impatiently bouncing
one leg up and down as if she were bored. As Anthony had said, she was
inheriting a virtual fortune from her grandmother, and she’d already known that
and hadn’t expected more. But Marla was surprised to be inheriting the house.
“I thought he’d leave the house to Reese,” she told Anthony.
“It’s been in the Madison family since 1885.”
“He and I discussed that at length, and he was firm about
giving you the house,” Anthony said. “It’s yours to keep or sell or do whatever
you wish with it. Nathan understood that with his passing, this house would no
longer be in the family line. And he also assumed that Reese wouldn’t be
interested in keeping it.”
“Dad was right about that,” Reese said. “I wouldn’t want to
live here anyway, and it’s too big and costly to keep up as a summer home. I’m
fine with not inheriting it.”
Marla turned to Reese. It amazed her at how little her
daughter cared about family lineage and responsibility considering how dearly
Nathan held on to the past. He’d been proud to live in the family home, which
had been passed down for generations, and carrying on the family name.
“Are you sure, dear?” Marla asked.
Reese sighed. “Mom. I’m positive. Besides, you’ll be living
here for years and I can always change my mind if I want this house later on,
which I doubt,” she said.
Anthony continued reading the will. A generous donation
would be made to the university for scholarship money, contributions would also
be given to other charities that Nathan held dear, and there was an added bonus
for Mrs. Cooper to thank her for her loyalty. Other than that, the money and
possessions had all been bequeathed to Marla.
After Anthony left, the house fell completely still. Reese
changed clothes and went for a walk with Chad, and Marla went to the kitchen to
see if Mrs. Cooper needed help cleaning up. The women they’d hired to serve
were doing the lion’s share of the cleanup under Mrs. Cooper’s supervision, so
Marla left them to their work.
She walked around the empty house, going from room to room.
She still couldn’t believe Nathan had left her the family’s legacy. Built in
1885 by his great-great-grandfather as a summer retreat when the town of Great
Heron Lake was first being formed as a playground for St. Paul’s elite, the
house had grown from a weekend cottage to a mansion of over 6,000 square feet.
There were seven bedrooms and eight bathrooms, the great room, family/media
room, kitchen, a morning room for Marla and a den/library for Nathan. A game
room that held the antique billiards table and the indoor pool built in the
1920s for extravagant weekend parties added to its bulk. The house sat on five
prime acres of land with 1000 feet of lakeshore and held tennis courts as well.
It was extravagant, absolutely decadent, compared to the scant lifestyle Marla
had grown up in, and now, it was all hers.
She wasn’t sure she wanted it. It felt like a heavy weight
had been dropped on her.
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