Romance Fiction posted October 14, 2025 Chapters:  ...44 45 -46- 47... 


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The Aftermath
A chapter in the book Yesterday's Dreams

The Lighthouse Chap 8

by Begin Again



The radio cracked loudly enough to make Claire flinch.

Gideon's voice burst through, gritty and loud. "It's a miracle! Listen up — Cora May is secured, and Mayweather is turning toward the docks. Hold your lights steady. Don't move. Bring her home."

A cheer went up along the point — short, rough, real. David swung one lamp a hair north. Claire kept both hands on the tripod. In the fog, the bulk of Mayweather came around, bow pointing at the pale lane they'd cut through the gray.

"Easy," David called. "Straight in. You've got it."

The horn answered twice, close now. Lines flew. Hands caught. Men scrambled to pull the boat into the dock.

Gideon again, softer. "Mayweather tied. All souls safe."

For a second, Claire just stared. Then the breath she'd been holding burst out in a half-laugh, half-cry. "We did it! We actually did it!"

Before she could think, she jumped toward David, adrenaline still racing, and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her and held tight, steady against the wind and rain. She laughed, breathless, the relief shaking out of her.

"Yes," he said, eyes locked on hers. "We did."

And without thinking twice, he kissed her — quick and certain, a spark in the storm. For a heartbeat, they both froze, surprised by how right it felt. Then she pulled back, cheeks warm, trying to catch her breath. "Sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be," he said. 

They turned back to the lights, both pretending they suddenly had work to do, hearts still racing.

Neighbors kept working like they'd rehearsed it. Harper thumped David's shoulder. "Nice lane. Haven't seen one that clean since Andrew ran this point."

"Wasn't just me," David said. He looked at Claire. "It was Claire. She made the right call."

Claire nodded and swallowed hard. The lamps buzzed. The generator settled into a steady hum.

Lucy stepped into the doorway, hair damp, towel around her shoulders. "They're in?"

"They're in," Claire said.

Lucy's shoulders sagged. "Thank God." She turned back into the kitchen. "You hear that?"
She told Ruth, voice low. "They're safe."

"Good," Ruth whispered. "A job well done."

"Kill the extra lights," Claire called. "Leave two on the slip and one on the porch. Watch the cords."

Trucks peeled away in twos and threes, drivers promising coffee and help at first light. Harper left a small cooler by the door —"sandwiches and a thermos" — and jogged back into the rain. The point felt like it had exhaled.

Inside, the kitchen seemed too small after all that noise. Lucy eased Ruth against folded towels. Claire checked pupils, breath, and the rib wrap. Color had come back to Ruth's face.
The radio popped. Gideon again: "Bridge still out. The county will send an EMT by skiff when the tide eases. We'll come up the slip."

"Copy," Claire said.

David came in from the porch, shaking water off his sleeves. "How is she?"

"Awake and cranky," Ruth muttered. "That means I'm alive."

"Stable," Lucy said. "We'll keep her talking."

David nodded. "Mayweather crew's sitting tight till daylight. Cora May's sending coffee up."

Claire poured hot water into three mugs and dropped tea bags out of habit. "Sit," she told David. "Two minutes."

They did. No one spoke for a bit. Rain tapped steadily on the glass. The wall clock ticked like it always had.

The skiff bumped the slip about an hour later.
 
An EMT in a slicker checked Ruth's vitals, shined a light, tightened the wrap, and left a small kit. "From what I've been told, she's improved quite a lot since the accident. But I suggest that as soon as the bridge opens, she gets a complete checkup at the hospital. If anything changes, call me on twelve."

He clattered back down the steps into the rain. The house settled again. The generator hummed. It was just the four of them — Ruth on the bench, Lucy beside her, Claire at the table, David a step back in Andrew's chair, hands folded.

Ruth cleared her throat. "I need to say this while my head is clear." She looked at Lucy, then at Claire. "It's going to hurt. I'm sorry for that."

Lucy nodded once. "Can't it wait, Mother?"

Ruth's eyes were glassy and brimming with tears. "No, Lucy. It's waited far too long as it is."

Claire got the kettle, refilled the mugs, and then settled into the chair next to David.

Ruth took a breath. "I'm not your birth mother, Lucy. Your real name is Pamela Lucille, and Lily Wheaton was your mother."

Lucy dropped to her knees beside Ruth. "What? No, that can't be. Why are you saying this?"

"I raised you. I loved you. But I didn't give birth to you." She glanced at the stove, then back. "You were brought here — the night you were born. To this kitchen."

Lucy's fingers tightened on the towel in her lap. "Here. To the Lighthouse." She choked on her words. "How long have you known?"

"From the start," Ruth said. "Andrew called me. He said a young woman needed help, and a baby needed a home. I came. Dr. Avery came. Lily's father — Mr. Wheaton — said there would be no talk, no notice. 'For the family's sake,' he said."

"And Lily?" Lucy asked. Her voice shook and then steadied. "What happened to her?"

"She meant to leave town with the man she loved," Ruth said. She looked once at David, then back at Lucy. "Douglas Reed. She fell ill the day they were to go. He thought she had changed her mind. He left. She had you a few months later. She was young, ashamed, and scared. And then —" Ruth's voice frayed. "She was distraught, overwhelmed by life, I suppose. One night she walked the headland and —" Ruth paused as she watched the wave of emotions cross her daughter's face. "The town was told it was an accident, a fall. It wasn't." 

Lucy stared at the table edge like she needed something solid to hold in her mind. "So, the woman who gave birth to me left me here, and then she —" The rest stuck. She pressed her lips together, nodded once, hard. "And you decided never to tell me."

"I begged Andrew to keep it quiet," Ruth said. "The town was cruel, and Mr. Wheaton had a long reach. I told myself I was protecting you. Maybe I was protecting myself. Every time you asked why I hated this place, I almost told you. I didn't. That's on me. It was wrong to wait this long."

Silence held. The clock ticked. Rain tapped.

Lucy said, very plain, "I had a right to know. You should have trusted me."

"I should have," Ruth said. "I'm sorry."

Claire spoke quietly. "Dad tried to set it right at the end. He left me a path. The jar. Mrs. Avery. The slip."

"I know," Ruth said. "He told me he was leaving you 'what was needed.' We argued. I lost that one." She managed a small, crooked smile. "He could be stubborn."

David finally spoke, voice low. "My grandfather didn't know," he said to Lucy. "We found a letter to Lily returned unopened. We found a photo — him and Lily in April '79. He enlisted after. He carried it alone."

Lucy looked at him, then back at Ruth. "Did he come back?"

"He did," Ruth said. "Not for years. He worked Sundays at the yard. He kept his head down, kept to himself."

Lucy's breath was shallow, as if the air were thicker than before. "So, who am I?"

Ruth reached for her hand. "You're Lucy," she said. "You always will be. And you're Lily's daughter. And Douglas's. None of that cancels the rest."

Lucy didn't pull away, but she didn't squeeze back. "I need time."

"You'll have it," Ruth said. "All you want."

Claire slid a clear sleeve across the table — the envelope with the dull purple stamp: RETURN TO SENDER. "We haven't opened this," she said. "It's from Douglas to Lily. It came back to him. We can read it together. Or not."

Lucy looked at it for a long time. "I want to hear what he tried to say," she said. "But not alone."

"We're here for you," Claire said.

Ruth nodded. "Me too, if you'll have me."

Lucy gave the slightest nod.

David shifted forward an inch. "Do you want me to step out?"

"No," Lucy said. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "You're part of this."

Claire took a small pair of scissors from the drawer. Her hands were steady now. She slid the blade under the flap and cut. The paper gave with a dry whisper. She eased the letter free and unfolded it.

Ruth's breath hitched. Lucy's hands opened and closed on the towel. David kept his eyes on the table.

Claire read —

Lily,
I waited until the last horn, but you never came. I told myself it was the storm and that you would follow. I've written and heard nothing. My heart breaks, and I fear you've had a change of heart.

Claire stopped. No one spoke.

"Keep going," Lucy said.

Claire read the following lines.

If, by the grace of our Lord, it is not you but your father, we can face this together. Write to the yard or leave a note with Mrs. Harper or Andrew. He will find me. I'll come.
Whatever you choose, know that I will not love another. My heart remains with you.
Forever,
Douglas.

Claire lowered the page. The room was very quiet.

Ruth pressed a hand to her mouth. "He did try," she whispered. "He didn't leave her."

Lucy's shoulders sagged, not from defeat, but more like the size of the truth had finally shown itself. "So, everyone missed each other," she said. "And I lived a whole life in the space between."

Claire reached across and set her hand over Lucy's. David reached too, then stopped short, letting Lucy choose. She moved her hand a half inch and put it on his. He closed his fingers around hers and didn't say a word.

Ruth drew a breath. "There's one more thing I never told anyone."

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Cast of Characters

Claire Crandon – A writer and historian returning to her hometown after her father’s death. Determined to restore the lighthouse and uncover the truth behind the secrets her father left behind.

David Reed – Contractor overseeing the lighthouse restoration. Grandson of Douglas Reed, a man whose lost love and unanswered letter lie at the heart of the mystery. Steady, grounded, and quietly protective.

Lucy Crandon – Claire’s cousin, raised by Ruth. Outspoken and loyal, but shaken when she learns the truth about her birth and the secrets that bound her family for decades.

Ruth Crandon – Claire’s aunt and Lucy’s adoptive mother. Fiercely protective, burdened by the promise she made long ago to keep a secret that has cost her nearly everything.

Andrew Crandon – Claire’s late father. The former lighthouse keeper who pieced together fragments of a long-buried truth and left a trail for his daughter to follow.

Lily Wheaton – A young woman from the past whose forbidden love with Douglas Reed and tragic fate shaped the lives of everyone on the point.

Douglas Reed – David’s grandfather and Lily’s lost love. A man of quiet honor who never knew the truth about the child he left behind.

Gideon Pike – The harbor master. Rugged, loyal to the sea, and always first to answer a distress call.

Harper Benton – Owner of the general store. A practical man with a good heart and a hand in every town effort.

Dr. Avery – The retired town physician who once delivered a baby at the lighthouse on a storm-tossed night forty years ago.

Trudy Lansbury – A persistent reporter from The Gazette, digging into local history and stirring up truths some would rather stay buried.
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