Page 67 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

“Yes, we are. Renting a house from Simon Foster until the end of August. It’s been lovely so far.”

The other line is silent for a moment, then Janie says, “Simon Foster. Well, I’ll be.”

Now it’s my turn to be at a loss for words. What’s so surprising about Simon Foster, I wonder? Thankfully, Janie speaks again, so I don’t need to come up with a reply.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from Simon. How’s he doing?”

Between this line of questioning and Maisie’s comment about Simon’s leg, I’m feeling like I might be the worst person on earth for not visiting Simon to check in. “I think he’s okay,” I reply. “I guess he hurt his leg.” At least that’s an honest reply.

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“He’s in an assisted living facility now. Out near Wells.” Before I can reconsider, I add, “I’m planning to visit him while we’re in town.”

“That’s wonderful,” Janie answers. “That would make your grandparents so happy. Especially Charlie. They were so close.”

I feel my opening fading away with every passing second. “So, I have a strange question for you.” I close my eyes tightly, willing myself to keep going. “I’ve been reading Eleanor’s diary. Um, we found it during the cleanout. And it looks like there might be some pages missing.”

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

“Um.” I try again. “It could just be damage from 66 years of use and storage, of course. But the diary mentions some things that I think the missing pages might resolve. And I’m just…” My voice breaks a little. “I’m just trying to get to know her better.” I rub my thumb over the book in my hands.

Janie is quieter now. “What do you want to know?”

I’m not sure I expected this to be so easy. “Well,” I begin, voice growing stronger. “It sounds like she met a gentleman at Harbor Lights, the dance hall. Maybe the summer you were 16, and she was 18?”

Janie chuckles. “Oh, she certainly did.”

I knew I was onto something here. “Do you know his name?”

“It was George. George Marlowe.”

My mind hurries to mash the name onto the blurry image it’s painted of a tall, handsome man in a blue blazer. “It sounds like Grandma Ellie really loved him.”

Janie coughs. “She did, yes.”

I’m definitely not going to ask her about the sex. That would be far too weird. “It seems like she married my grandfather a few months after she met George. I just…I found it surprising, given how she described her…” The words “torrid love affair” flash through my mind, but I tame them into “summer romance” before I let them leave my lips.

“George was charming, and Eleanor loved him dearly. But things fell apart very quickly there. Thank God for Charlie. He saved her from a very difficult life.”

A very difficult life? “What do you mean, exactly?”

Janie sighs. “Some things are better left in the past.”

I want to bang my head against the wall. I’m so close; I can’t give up now. “Did George…did he hurt her?”

“I think he hurt her very much,” Janie says softly.

My chest pangs at the thought of anyone hurting my sweet, gentle grandmother, never mind someone she cared about. At the image of my grandfather, heroic and romantic, swooping in and saving her. Making her believe in love again.

“Do you know what George did?” I ask quietly.

“It’s best left in the past,” Janie says again. “Thank you so much for calling, Ivy. Let’s catch up again soon, okay?”

No, I want to shout! This conversation can’t be over! Not when I’ve come so close to finding answers.

But Laurel’s words flash through my mind. Everybody is working hard to heal, she’d said. And Janie clearly isn’t willing to relive these painful memories. At least not today.

So I thank Janie for chatting, then I let her go. And I don’t bother trying to stop the tears of frustration when they fall.