Linnea closed the door of Hope’s room and walked past the black-framed photographs on the wall, showing generations of family members frolicking on the beach, having barbecue at the cottage, gathered in groups with smiles. There had been many wonderful memories in this house for the Rutledge clan. Looking at the faces, she could name them all.

Stepping into the living room, where yellow pools of light spilled out on the muted colors of the oriental carpet, she thought how she’d always felt safe in this house. More so than in the grand house on Tradd Street in Charleston. This cottage had been a sanctuary for three generations of Rutledge women, and their friends as well. She wondered if Annabelle would feel the magic when she moved in. Linnea wanted to carry on the legacy of the beach house. To be the support and inspiration to others that Cara and her grandmother had been.

The beach house wasn’t very different today from when her grandmother lived in it. A respect for the original design of the house had endured the generations. The only change was when Cara and Brett had enclosed the seaward screened porch into a three seasons room and extended the deck. She’d refreshed the paint, changed fabrics, but the cottage remained intact. As Cara liked to say, why mess with perfection?

Linnea went to pour some apple juice for Hope when she heard a quick knock on the porch door.

“Hello?” came Cara’s voice.

“In here!” Linnea was all smiles, eager to make Hope feel welcome. She picked up the new Barbie doll she’d bought as she turned to greet them.

Hope spied it immediately. “For me?” exclaimed the little girl, her dark-brown eyes lighting up even as her hands reached out. At six, she loved presents.

Linnea caught Cara’s eye and mouthed a thank you for the suggestion.

Cara handed Hope a manila envelope. “It’s all the things you need to know for Hope.” She began to rattle off items using her fingers. “Her doctor’s phone number, her favorite foods, the foods she hates, her favorite games, TV shows, her routine. Anything I could think of to help you. But of course, just call me if you have any questions at all.”

Linnea pulled out two pages of typed notes. “I can’t imagine you’ve left anything out,” she said with a wry smile.

“It’s tough without her going to school. The days get long, believe me,” she added with a roll of the eyes, then sighed. “Two weeks seems forever. I may not make it. I’ve never been away that long before. Not even when she went to the hospital. I slept in her room.” Cara clasped her hands tight as though to keep them from shaking. “I would stay here with her, except I have to take care of David.”

Linnea had never seen Cara so vulnerable. “We’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly. “And you’re just across the street if I need you.”

Cara’s watery eyes brightened. Support, friendship, hope… these were a woman’s lifelines. “I’ll stop by to see her, of course.”