Clydie walked into the kitchen, finding her mom and dad standing by the old fashioned refrigerator, unloading the grocery bags sitting on the countertop and piling things in, and she couldn't help but pause in the doorway to watch the scene for a minute, a sudden mix of emotions washing through her.

The first of those emotions was a bit of terror because no one had cleaned the fridge out yet and she figured any food put inside it would be tainted by E.coli or botulism. But, the fear of a deadly microbe aside, what she was feeling as she watched her parents...was something she hadn't felt in quite a while, something that actually made her smile.

Her parents weren't doing anything extraordinary. They were just unloading groceries. But, they were standing there together, talking in low tones and making eyes at one another. Frank leaned in close to his wife as he handed her a gallon of milk, saying something to her that must have been funny because she giggled like a school girl as she put the jug away. And then he grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her to him, giving her a quick kiss that she didn't even mind watching.

It had been forever since her parents had acted...that way. She certainly hadn't seen them flirting and kissing in longer than she could remember. And she knew that couples needed that kind of thing. Once it stopped, it was over for them, and if Ella lost her husband after losing her daughter, she was afraid of what it might do to the woman.  Frank was the only steady thing she had left in her world.

Something in the air suddenly changed, bringing Clydie's attention out of her thoughts and back to her parents, whose flirty little kiss had turned into something...that she honestly didn't want to be a part of.

Clearing her throat, which instantly pulled her parents out of their moment, she started across the tacky floor that caught the soles of her shoes with each step, and toward the butcher block island where the pizza was waiting.

"Clydie, you okay, honey?" Ella asked, giving her a quick look as she went back to putting things in the fridge.

"Yeah. I'm good," she answered, opening the cardboard box and getting a whiff of pepperoni and cheese.

"Are you sure?" her mom asked, a measure of worry wafting across her pretty face.

"I'm sure. Everything's fine," she answered easily.

She could pretend that everything was right as rain. She could pretend...that her parents had every chance to finally have a normal life.  They didn't need to know the truth.  Not until there was no other choice.

"She's okay, Ella," Frank assured his wife, giving Clydie a little wink. "I just scared the bejesus out of her upstairs, that's all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She was standing at her window, apparently lost in the deeps of a daydream, and she didn't hear me clumping up the stairs," Frank stated, beaming as if that was the best news he could possibly give his wife.

Clydie felt another smile lift the corners of her mouth at the mention of her dad's rather ungainly and inelegant way of walking. Really, the man was about as graceful as a lumbering horse. He clopped through the house, fairly shaking the walls, and somehow, when he was trying to be quiet, it got even worse. She'd been dragged out of sleep more times than she could count, thinking that it was either thundering or that some very angry person was trying to pound their way through the front door.

Hearing that her daughter had been caught daydreaming seemed to perk Ella up a bit. "Well, that's good news! What were you dreaming about? Was it a cute boy?"

"Uh, no," she answered flatly. "I've only been in town for a few hours. How would I have seen any cute boys?"

Ella lifted a shoulder and smiled mischievously. "The world is just crawling with handsome men. Just look out the window and I'm sure you'll find one you like."

No. Looking out her window would not yield her up a handsome young man. Nor did she want it to. She had enough trouble without all that drama.

"How do you know anything about handsome men outside the window?" Frank asked, giving his wife a stern look.

"I'm not blind, Frank. I'm not looking for one for myself, but I can admire them if they walk by," Ella answered.

"You're darn right you aren't looking for one for yourself," Frank declared, again snatching Ella by the waist and pulling her close to him, planting a kiss on her that suddenly made Clydie thankful that her bedroom was as far away from her parents' room as it could get.

She really was glad to see them so happy with one another, but...ew.

"Frank!" Ella gasped, swatting at her husband. "Your daughter is in the room!"

"She's nineteen, Ella," Frank said good naturedly. "She knows her parents make out. I'll bet she even knows they have sex."

Ew. And she would take that as her cue to exit the situation before things got any weirder.  And also...ew.

"I think I'll eat up in my room," she said, grabbing one of the paper plates sitting next to the pizza.

"Don't be silly!" Ella said, waving those words away. "It's our first meal in the house. We should eat together."

That was fine. As long as her mom and dad kept it PG. Otherwise, she was going to have to bolt.

"We'd better eat if we're going to. Like I told Clydie, these pizzas are so greasy, they'll start to congeal if we don't hurry," declared Frank.

Clydie looked down at the food item in question, agreeing with her father. Whatever establishment had made the pizza certainly hadn't skimped on the grease. It was floating on top of the cheese like a red oil slick. She kind of didn't mind, though. Sometimes, she thought the grease was the best part.

Her parents finished up with the groceries and trooped over to the island, everyone filling their plates with enough pizza to clog their arteries before going over to the old fashioned Formica table with the plastic yellow chairs, taking a seat there. Of course, the chairs were covered in that ever present film of nicotine and as soon as Clydie sat down, she could feel her jeans adhering to it, making it difficult to change positions.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I really love this big old kitchen," Ella sighed, dropping down into her own chair and glancing around the large, dingy room. "Once it's all fixed up, I'll be able to cook up a storm in here."

Clydie and her dad both glanced at one another at the same moment, passing that look between them.  Ella Weston's cooking was a running family joke, and at times a family tragedy, because the woman was the worst cook to ever don an apron.  Ella simply had no culinary skills whatsoever, no matter how hard she tried or how many tutorials she watched or cookbooks she downloaded. She just could not produce food that was in any way edible. She could barely even boil water without catching it on fire. And she seemed to have absolutely no awareness of just how bad her cooking really was.

Frankly, if Ella wanted to run a successful bed and breakfast, she was going to have to hire someone to man the kitchen. Unless she could find guests who could stomach scrambled eggs that always, no matter what, tasted and felt like Play-doh and toast that was the color of car tires.

Sufficed to say, she and her dad spent a lot of time either sneaking around for take-out or going behind Ella and cooking their own food, just so they didn't starve to death.

"Speaking of fixing the place up, I've already got some people lined up for interviews," Frank said, moving the conversation away from kitchen talk.

"I thought we were going to do most of the work ourselves to save money," Ella pointed out, clearly displeased at the thought of hiring workers.

"We are. But, there are things that we'll need help with. I'll be at work a lot, so it'll just be you and Clydie here and you're going to need some extra hands. Especially if you're planning on opening the doors in the spring," said Frank earnestly.

"How many extra hands are we talking about? Because I can do a lot of things by myself, Frank," Ella stated seriously.

"I know you can, dear. But, it'll take you the rest of forever to do it all alone and we really don't have that kind of time," Frank told his wife in a consoling tone. "But, you'll be the one in charge of whoever we hire. So, they'll look to you for their work orders and it'll be up to you to make sure they stay on time and on budget."

"Well, that I can do," Ella easily conceded. "As long as they know that I'm the boss. I don't want anyone in here that thinks they don't have to listen to me just because I'm a woman."

Clydie, quietly munching on her incredibly greasy pizza, found herself highly doubting that Frank would stand for hiring anyone who wouldn't listen to his wife. Firstly, because he loved his wife and the only times she'd ever seen him angry had been when he thought someone was disrespecting her. And secondly, despite Ella's ineptness in the kitchen, the woman knew her way around the rest of the house. She was as capable as any man when it came to fixing things and doing projects. She couldn't make a sandwich, but she could strip and re-stain a piece of furniture or hang a new ceiling fan like it was the easiest thing in the world. Which was a boon for the Westons, because when it came to doing any sort of handy project, Frank was absolutely useless.  Though, oddly, he was a whiz in the kitchen and could whip up a blueberry blintz in ten seconds flat.

"I have the first people coming this evening. They're just handymen, not contractors, though. I figure that'd be a better place to start," Frank stated.  "And I'm having my gazebo delivered in the morning, first thing!"

That last statement was made with a fair bit of enthusiasm. Frank had basically very little say in things that happened in the house, and really didn't seem to care much anyway, but as soon as they'd purchased the new property, he'd decided that he wanted a gazebo put out in the back garden and even before they'd gotten the key to the house, he'd gone to the nearest...gazebo store?...and had purchased the structure of his dreams.

"Mmmm, I guess I can deal with handymen. Contractors, though. Ugh. Those men always think they know everything and that no one else knows anything! I hate that!" Ella hissed, taking a vicious bite out of her slice.

"I know you do," Frank soothed. "And that's why we're starting with handymen. You can put them on all the things you don't have the time or the muscles for. They can help you haul the furniture and strip the floors and the wallpaper, that sort of thing."

"Speaking of hauling furniture, we need to get our bedrooms all sorted out first thing. I know Clydie won't be able to sleep well unless her room is comfortable," Ella pointed out, looking to Clydie.

"I can take care of it," Clydie said, going for her second slice. "You guys have to fix your own room."

"We need to get you settled in first. The last thing you need is to start losing sleep. You know it's not good when you get overly tired," her mother pointed out and she couldn't argue.

When her mind got too tired and she started to lose her ability to keep a tight grip on her thoughts...well, it wasn't fun for anybody.

"Don't worry about it. We'll get Clydie situated and then she'll be all rested up and ready to help her mom work on this beast of a house," Frank declared, giving Clydie a bright smile.

"But, I don't want you to spend all your time working in here," Ella told her. "I want you to go out and try to make a few friends. Maybe meet a boy and go on a date. We're here to start over and I want you to start trying to have a life."

That was a fine notion, and she did want that for herself. Before...before everything had gone wrong, she'd been out there, living, going out with her friends and hanging out with a couple of guys in her class. But, since that...horrible day...she'd pretty much given up any hope of doing anything other than trying to spare herself from winding up in a highly padded room, strapped securely into a straitjacket.

And clearly, it was going to be about the same way in Cedar Cove. Maybe even a bit worse, in fact.

"There's no need to rush.  Clydie will get out there and start living. She just needs to settle in and get the lay of the land," Frank assured in a complacent sort of way.

Between her parents, it seemed that her father was the one who was always right behind her, wanting to make sure that she was ready to do whatever it was her mom thought she should be able to do. Not that her mother wasn't supportive, but it was her dad who tried to be a little more patient and understanding.

"Well, once she gets settled in, that's exactly what she's going to do. She can't hide away forever and I'm sure rejoining the land of the living  will help her more than anything else," Ella stated firmly.

She could understand her mom grasping onto anything that might help her get better, but if two years' worth of therapy sessions hadn't worked, she didn't see how going on a date would fix anything.

"Clydie will be fine. Won't you, Pumpkin? Things just take time," was Frank's word on the subject.

Yes. It was obviously going to take time for her to stop seeing her dead sister's ghost. Especially considering that now, the ghost of someone new had been tossed into the mix.

The sudden sound of the doorbell ringing chimed through the house, thankfully bringing an end to the discussion. "I'll get it. It's probably the handymen," Frank said, getting to his feet.

"I'll go on and get started on my room," Clydie stated, pushing her chair back, her jeans making an unappealing sound as they tore free of the nicotine covered seat, making her instantly feel dirty.

As her dad made for the kitchen door, she followed behind him, seeing no reason to hang around, listening to her parents talking to a handyman about stripping the floors and removing the old wallpaper. She didn't really think it had anything to do with her. Besides, despite her mom wanting her to get out there and live and all that, meeting new people wasn't something she enjoyed doing these days. Strangers just seemed to know that she wasn't right and the way they looked at her, as if she might pull out something sharp and stabby and go to town on them, was embarrassingly uncomfortable.

She followed her dad up the hallway and as he moved across the foyer toward the front door, she hooked a right and hoofed it up the stairway, making her escape just as her father's voice sounded out, "Mr. Tanner! Come in! You're right on time!"

Clydie, picturing Mr. Tanner as a short, round, balding man with a stubby cigar in his mouth and a sagging tool belt around his waist, hurried down the dim hallway, passing by the closed doors of the three bedrooms that would one day serve as guest suites. There was something about seeing those slivers of light spilling out from underneath the closed doors that made her heartbeat quicken. Almost, she expected to see a shadow flashing past, blocking out that light, so she picked up her pace and kept her gaze focused on her own open bedroom door. There was a stranger in the house, so the last thing she needed was to have a moment and freak the guy out. He might decide not to work for her parents and she didn't know if handymen were hard to come by in Cedar Cove.

Back in her bedroom, she went straight for the bucket of now tepid water, breathing in the cool, clean air that was swirling through the space from outside. She could hear the loud hiss of the waves as they lapped the shoreline, beckoning her to come and watch them as they ebbed and flowed. And she decided to heed their call, by passing the bucket and going over to the wide open window.

Despite herself, her gaze was instantly drawn over to the gnarled evergreen trees in the corner of the backyard...but found no sign of her there. It was a relief on one hand, but on the other, she knew with a scary amount of certainty that the girl would re-appear sooner or later. And she also knew that the girl probably wouldn't stick to lurking outside underneath the trees, which was a thought that filled her with dread. It was bad enough that she had to deal with her sister. To suddenly have someone new to deal with, someone she didn't even know, might just be the thing to drive her into the loony bin.

She wouldn't even begin to delve into why her mind had conjured the girl up or from where. There was no use in trying to figure it out. She could have seen the girl on a commercial for tampons when she was ten years old and her broken and damaged psyche had dragged that old memory out, turning it into that faded thing with the voided eyes.

Casting her gaze out over the yard and toward the brooding sea that swept out to meet the sky, she took a second to try and shake off the heaviness that was creeping over her. It wasn't easy, having her mind turning against her. It wasn't easy, putting her family through so much after the tragedy they'd already had to endure. And it certainly wasn't easy, living her life when all she really wanted to do was have it over and done with. 

And yet, she opened her eyes every day and put her feet on the floor because...she felt she had no choice.  She simply couldn't imagine what losing both of their daughters would do to Frank and Ella.

So, no matter how bad things seemed or how much the heaviness of her life weighed on her, she kept going. It was just...there were times when she had to wonder how much she  could take before finally giving up, how many more faded specters she was supposed to withstand before it would be okay for her to finally put an end to it? Was she supposed to wait until she was spiraling down into the depths of madness before at last throwing her hands up?

Admittedly, that notion actually terrified her, the thought of slipping away into insanity, losing her mind to the point where she had no choice but to finally free herself. She wasn't afraid of the thought of going on to someplace better because she knew her sister was waiting for her over there. She was afraid of the road that would lead her to that end. She was afraid of what it would be like to have her mind deteriorating, failing her in the most basic way so that she couldn't tell fantasy from reality. Losing control of herself...having her family watch her losing control of herself...maybe even forgetting herself completely...  Just the mere possibility was enough to make her sick.

Staring out at the fathomless leagues of sea, listening to its mighty call that filled the air, she decided then and there that if she found herself going down that road, she would put a stop to it.  And the means was right outside her door.  

She'd already seen how horrific it had been for Frank and Ella to bury their oldest daughter, so she figured it would be easier for them if she simply...disappeared...  Because she loved them, because that would be the only fair thing to do for them, that was what she would do.

She only hoped that seeing that young girl standing outside didn't mean she would be taking that path sooner than she wanted to.