Seasonal Siblings: Hathaway Family, #1

By Celestia Hawthorne

Discover the captivating tale of the Hathaway sisters in "Seasonal Siblings," where love and legacy converge amidst the serene backdrop of a lakeside summer camp. After the loss of their mother, the four sisters—each distinct in personality and dreams—face an unexpected inheritance that comes with a catch: they must unite to run the camp to claim their legacy.

In "Amidst Mourning and Moonlit Adventures, the Hathaway Sisters Unleash a Legacy: A Tale of Love, Laughter, and Lakefront Surprises," embark on a soul-stirring journey of grief, growth, and grace. Watch as the sisters navigate their clashing wills and complex emotions, each chapter weaving deeper into their individual quests for self-discovery. From the thrill of new romances to the challenges of personal transformation, this narrative richly explores the diverse spectrums of love and the poignant moments that shape us.

"Seasonal Siblings" is more than a summer read; it's a poignant exploration of the threads that bind us and the experiences that define us. With its blend of heartfelt drama, mysterious undertones, and captivating adventures, this novel promises a page-turning experience filled with laughter, tears, and unforgettable moments.

Perfect for fans of family sagas and romantic dramas, "Seasonal Siblings" invites readers to plunge into a world where every moonlit adventure leads to unexpected discoveries and the true meaning of inheritance is unveiled. Dive into this enchanting narrative and let the Hathaway sisters guide you through a summer of transformative love and legacy. Don't miss out on this riveting tale of familial bonds and personal revelations!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celestia Hawthorne
• Release date: Jan 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224874972

Celestia Hawthorne

Celestia Hawthorne, born on April 26th, 1992, in Brussels, Belgium, is a versatile and passionate writer whose love for storytelling ignited at a young age. From the moment pen met paper, writing became an intrinsic part of her life's journey. Her fascination with words began amidst the streets of Brussels, evolving into a lifelong dedication to creating enchanting narratives. Hawthorne's stories weave intricate plots and vibrant characters, inviting readers on immersive journeys through diverse worlds.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The day of my wake is the first time, in two and a half years, that I see my four daughters gathered under the same roof. They obviously don't know that I can see them... well, Mila knows.

Mom must be happy to see us together again, even if it's in such a sad moment, Mila says, close to my coffin.

Happy my ass, Camila?! Mom is dead! Helena retorts, my eldest daughter, who didn't even look away from her phone while the priest said some tacky and rehearsed words in my honor.

That's harsh, girl! Lara, the second youngest, scolds. Can you have a little more tact?

What? She's dead! What do you want me to do? Pretend she can see us?

To be fair, I can.

Helena has always been the most like me: objective, determined, and with no time for nonsense.

Unfortunately, I can't miss the irony that her skepticism is also my inheritance. I myself never believed in this kind of thing; if I did, I probably would have behaved a bit better at some wakes I've been to.

Can you at least not be so insensitive to Mila?!

Lara, despite being two years younger than Mila, has always been her biggest defender. In school, Mila was the type to attract curious looks and accumulate mean comments for the way she dressed and saw the world.

She's what the living call an eccentric person; she claims to feel others' energy and the presence of the dead, believes in all forms of healing through nature, and is certain that her cat, Elvira, is the reincarnation of my mother-in-law.

As I've said, Helena inherited her skepticism from me, so I'm not proud to admit that I always joined in the chorus that Mila was a bit airy and tried at one point or another to convince her to be a bit more rational. It turns out that now, being here on the other side, so to speak, I realize that she's just sensitive and that she's right about everything.

Well, except for Elvira being my mother-in-law; unfortunately, she's still here in the spiritual plane, tormenting my afterlife.

She's already 29, Lara, Helena retorts in a serious whisper, as if Mila wasn't half a meter away and could hear her. It's time for her to start acting her age.

Pff! Louise huffs and rolls her eyes, fed up with the two's arguments. I'm going to look for something to drink. What kind of wake doesn't have beer?

Louise is the youngest and has always been a free spirit; she likes to live intensely and has a magnetic energy that attracts most people.

She inherited this fondness for alcohol and lack of social delicacy from my husband.

All kinds, Lu, this is a wake, not a rave! Lara scolds.

Louise rolls her eyes once more and turns towards the exit to look for a beer or something worth drinking, not without raising her middle finger over Lara's shoulder and, in a way, towards my coffin.

She inherited that from her father too.

I'm out of here too, Helena announces, seeing Louise's departure as the perfect opportunity.

I have to pick up Lucas and Alice from preschool, I'll be back soon, Lara says as she leaves, searching for the car keys in her purse.

Are you guys coming back for the burial? Mila asks.

Mumbled responses vaguely resembling affirmation escape from all their mouths. Mila turns to me and places her hand on mine.

I guess it's just you and me, Mom!

Alright, I didn't have high hopes that my daughters would cause any commotion at my wake. We've never been a very close-knit family...

Scratch that.

Let me rephrase that: we haven't been a very close-knit family for years!

But I know a large part of the blame is mine, and I suppose I deserve this indifference they show towards my corpse, forgotten by all but Mila.

However, I'm confident that with one last grand gesture, I can at least restore the connection between them.

No, no; I don't intend to rise from the dead or haunt them as a ghost, that's not the kind of grand gesture I'm referring to, but one that I made while still alive and that they will soon discover.

But for now, I'm content to have them gathered under the same roof for exactly 47 minutes and 39 seconds.

PERHAPS YOU'RE WONDERING who I am, so, before I proceed, allow me to introduce myself: my name is Leonora Hathaway and, as you may have already gathered, I'm dead.

It happened two days ago, and according to Dr. Roberta Mendes, the medical examiner who examined my body, it was a cardiac arrest. A sudden attack, she concluded, although I myself can't confirm, as I don't remember what happened.

I only remember turning off my phone after a particularly annoying call and nothing more. One moment I was alive, the next I was dead.

I was only 58 years old.

If you're under 20, you might think I had lived long enough, but believe me, when I woke up that morning, I didn't expect to die right after lunch. I had a reservation at Orso that same night to close two important deals, I had left a pile of emails to respond to in the afternoon, I hadn't bought Lucas's birthday present yet—I was thinking of getting him a Paw Patrol bike—, nor finished the peeling sessions that were already paid for.

I had things to do before death inconveniently showed up without scheduling an appointment.

However, this story isn't about me, or about all the things I would have done differently if I had known that Hecate was surrounding me.

This story is about my daughters.

And don't be fooled by the first impression...

Helena cried hidden in the company bathroom and made three incursions to my old office just to sit on the white leather couch where she always sat when we discussed new strategies for the company.

Lara spent the whole day yesterday with the kids in the treehouse I had built for them on my property, and each one wrote a letter to bury with my coffin—well, Alice and Lucas drew.

Louise, my youngest, who suffered the most from her father's death almost 11 years ago, now tries to be strong, but it's been 52 hours since she last slept, and every time she nodded off, she woke up minutes later, startled. I know it's because she's afraid of the nightmares that haunted her for months after Leo's death. She spent the two nights after my death at the club, using more chemicals than a mother would like to see her daughter use. None of them had the desired effect.

Sweet and sincere Mila may be the most transparent, but I know she also hides part of her grief. I know that, for the first time in years, she questioned her certainty in the universe and destiny. I know she felt angry at the injustice of her and her sisters having to witness another wake together. I also know she hasn't been able to meditate for two days.

AS PROMISED, OR AT least insinuated, they all return for the burial, which takes place in a cemetery in the neighborhood where I live... well, where I lived!

And it's already quite populated with Hathaways.

Aunt Lu! Alice shouts, running towards Louise as soon as she arrives.

Louise smiles, perhaps for the first time in a few days, and bends down to pick up her niece—whom she hasn't seen in three months—in her arms. Lucas, who is already 5 years old, just runs to hug her around the waist. Louise messes up the boy's spiked hair and holds him close to her waist as they watch six men carry the coffin with my body.

In the past 11 years, we've witnessed three burials in this same cemetery, the first, and most painful, being Leo's, my husband and father of the girls.

I remember that day so clearly it could have been yesterday: Louise, at just 10 and a half, clinging to Lara, crying with the freedom that only a child allows herself, while Lara with all her maternal ways tried to comfort both her sister and herself. Helena sitting on the grass, leaning against a tree looking at it without really believing it; and Mila, who didn't let go of my hand for a second, showing more strength than any of us and trying to maintain family unity, which, despite her efforts, was damaged forever.

After that, two more family members joined Leo. First my father a few months later, then Leo's mother two and a half years ago.

And today, me!

Despite the large crowd of affluent people who came to pay their respects, there was nothing very elegant about it. In fact, I think there's nothing less elegant than death, especially a sudden death like mine, where I was forced to leave everyone hanging, having to figure out how to fill the void of my absence. No, death is not elegant at all.

Death is the pinnacle of inelegance.

But, as I was saying, there's nothing very elegant, just some people gathered; some more dramatic ones dressed in black, sunglasses, and umbrellas, even though it's late afternoon and it's not raining. Helena is one of them, but I know the sunglasses are to hide the dark circles.

Most wear mourning only in their intentions and not in their clothes, and for me, that's enough.

I believe a burial is one of those rare types of events whose emotions are less filtered than everyday events. What I mean is: most people spend so much time worrying about others' judgment that their own feelings are put on the back burner, but mourning is one of the few prioritized feelings, one that you allow yourself to feel regardless of others' judgment.

And so, letting their emotions flow, the Hathaway sisters gradually draw closer.

Lara hugs her son, who is next to Louise, and soon the hug extends to her sister's waist. Mila approaches from the other side to kiss Alice's cheek and puts her arm around Louise's back too. Seeing the scene, Helena sighs and, pretending it's nothing, takes two steps to the right, linking her arm with Lara's, who without asking or seeking permission, intertwines their fingers.

And it's like this, embraced, that they watch my body being lowered into the grave; Louise, Mila, and Helena throw flowers. Lara and the kids, the letters they wrote at the treehouse.

And within a few minutes, it's all over for me, and my daughters are officially orphans.

I'll confess something: it's an ethereal out-of-body feeling somewhat unpleasant to watch your own burial, and I'm relieved it's over. Now we can return to the theme of this story, which, as I've said, isn't about me.

Aunt Lu, do you want to sleep over at our place? Alice asks still in Louise's arms, as they walk through the cemetery after the burial. I have a tent, you can sleep with me.

Louise looks at Lara behind her for what to respond. It had been months since they last saw each other, although they exchanged messages from time to time, and Louise doesn't know if it's a good idea or not. Lara just nods her head.

I don't know, Lili. You look like a snorer! Louise says with a grimace.

I don't snore! she responds with the dignity of a 3-year-old girl who has never heard such an insult.

Louise squints her eyes.

I don't snore! she repeats. I swear!

In that case, it's okay. But if you snore, I'll kick you out of the tent!

Alice just smiles and hugs Louise around the neck. Louise has to swallow the lump in her throat with all the emotions of the day. She doesn't know if she feels envy or pity for Alice being so small and unable to understand the whole situation.

But Alice understands death, Lara spent the entire previous day explaining to her and Lucas what it means to die. She knows she won't see me anymore. But it's not death that she doesn't understand, it's the anticipation of missing someone. She saw me three days ago, she's not missing me yet, and there's no reason to be sad if, according to her mother, I'm in a better place.

In a way, childish logic is much more coherent than that of adults; it's the adult who suffers and longs for things that haven't happened yet. The child just feels the moment while adults spend time and money on therapy and meditation courses just to regain that ability.

We could all go to my place, Lara suggests somewhat apprehensively to her sisters. We can order something to eat, have some wine...

She leaves the sentence hanging, as she often does; a habit she's had since childhood. I think it's to not seem too assertive like Helena, nor too needy like Mila. It's a way of tossing the conclusion of the thought to the interlocutor.

Mila, who walks holding Lucas's hand, agrees immediately. She's the one of the four who misses the sibling relationship the most—or at least the one who shows it the most—and the one who, over the years, has made the most effort to bring them together.

The three look at Helena, who makes a point of not responding immediately, but Lara knows her sister, knows that if she didn't want to she wouldn't spare any negatives, so the prolonged silence must be a yes.

Finally, she responds:

Only if we order food from Orso, none of those vegan restaurants that Mila likes, Lara says.

TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES, Lara says, opening the door to her house and taking off her black moccasin.

Mila, who is the only one who frequents the house regularly, already has her black patent shoes in her hands to set them aside. Louise kicks her Doc Martens to each corner of the hall. Helena rolls her eyes at the request and keeps her Jimmy Choo on.

Let's go to the kitchen, I'll choose a wine, Lara invites as Lucas and Alice run off to play in the bedroom, leaving the four of them alone.

The easiest way to describe Lara is to imagine her in a four-page feature in a family lifestyle and home decor magazine. The kind you read with a mix of envy and suspicion (because it seems a tad too perfect): beautiful house, even more beautiful children, absolutely impeccable fashion sense, husband... well, he doesn't appear in this feature.

If you've never read a home decor magazine, you can imagine her house as the embodiment of your decor Pinterest board. That is, if your decor board is filled with Scandinavian references.

The kitchen has all-white cabinetry highlighting the wooden floor and decorations made of straw and other natural fibers. As soon as they enter, Louise jumps onto the breakfast island and, to Lara's dismay, puts her bare feet on the solid wood countertop, sitting cross-legged in a meditation position.

Helena and Mila sit on the beige leather stools.

Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay? Lara asks.

Pinot Grigio, the three reply in unison.

Pinot Grigio! Lara repeats to herself, grabbing the bottle from the small wine cellar.

An uncomfortable silence hangs over them as Lara uncorks the bottle and pours the glasses.

To mom, Lara offers.

Louise and Mila raise their glasses, but Helena squirms in her chair.

Usually, we toast to life, you know? she says in her sarcastic tone, but I know it's just because she's trying hard not to think about me today. Mom's...

... dead, we know, Lena, Louise cuts in before she can finish the sentence. Can you stop being brusque for a minute and toast in her honor?

Helena rolls her eyes but relents.

To mom!

They all clink their glasses together, toasting with my favorite wine.

But enough of that, Helena requests. Can we talk about something else?

Like, for example, the curly-haired guy Mila was exchanging numbers with at the funeral! Louise nudges her sister's shoulder with her foot.

Mila! Lara exclaims. Did you find a boyfriend at mom's funeral?

No, no, Mila replies somewhat awkwardly. He came to offer his condolences because I was the only daughter present...

I was present! Louise intervenes. I was just smoking outside!

I was the only daughter present near the body, Mila corrects. He was very attentive, and we started talking...

...and exchanging numbers! Helena adds suggestively, raising an eyebrow.

Oh my God! Lara exclaims again. Mom would be horrified.

That's not true!

Of course, I'm not horrified; I'm not some old-fashioned lady, and the guy was indeed very attentive and handsome.

Ah, Lara, first, to play Lena's role, mom's not here anymore, so leave her alone for a minute, please. Second, stop being annoying, Louise defends. Tell us more, Mi.

He's a surfer, practices yoga on the beach, super good vibes, and he's an Aquarius... like, what are the chances we're the same sign?

One in twelve, Louise and Helena reply at the same time.

Lara serves a charcuterie board, or what would be a charcuterie board if it were served on an actual board, but she simply spreads out the containers of each item on the counter and places some cheeses on plates with serrated knives for each to cut a piece.

He asked me out for the weekend, Mila says in her typical measured tone.

Mila, you minx! Louise exclaims, but there's a smile on her face.

Look, Mila, I'm impressed; but if one of us were to find a boyfriend at a funeral, it would be you, Helena says.

It's just a date, Mila replies.

Well, you deserve some joy, Mila, Lara says. All of us do, actually.

Louise brings her glass close to Mila's for an informal toast and winks.

Mila and Louise have always had the best relationship among the four. They've always respected each other's personalities and never tried to force a different lifestyle. And even though they see each other less these days, they always manage to act naturally, as if time hadn't passed.

AND WHERE'S THAT IDIOT of your ex-husband? Louise asks, taking a sip of wine, nearing the end of dinner.

As demanded by Helena, they did indeed order from Orso: a palm heart fettuccine with vegan pesto for Mila, a carbonara for Louise, grilled flounder with sautéed potatoes for Lara, and pappardelle with strips of filet mignon and mushrooms for Helena.

Traveling for work, Lara replies.

Couldn't he postpone to attend his ex-mother-in-law's funeral and the grandmother of his children? Helena asks.

Lara just shrugs.

Did he at least call the kids? Mila asks.

He sent a voice message.

Louise rolls her eyes.

Despite being separated since shortly after Alice's birth, this is still a sensitive topic for Lara, which she prefers to simply ignore and pretend they're just taking a break.

Well, you did well to leave him, Helena says.

He broke up with me.

Then he did you a favor.

Yes, because all I wanted was to be a single mother! she retorts sarcastically.

You were already a single mother when you were married to him, Lara, Helena needles further.

Mila and Louise just exchange glances.

Felipe has always been a point of contention in this family. Lara has always defended him, and the sisters have always condemned him. He and Lara met in high school, and to everyone's surprise, they married at 20; shortly after, she got pregnant with Lucas, but around the same time, Felipe began traveling extensively for work, leaving all of Lucas's upbringing to Lara. When she got pregnant with Alice, the bomb exploded, and they've been separated since then, but Lara refuses to sign the divorce papers.

What do you know about relationships, anyway? You're 32 years old and never had a boyfriend for more than three months.

I don't need a man to be happy.

Yeah, you just need to work 18 hours a day and pretend your personal life doesn't exist!

At least I didn't have to marry the first man I saw just to have a child because I was afraid of being alone!

Go fuck yourself!

Mom?

Four pairs of brown eyes turn to the little Alice standing in the kitchen doorway.

Lara clears her throat and takes a deep breath, trying to appear calm.

What's up, sweetie?

I'm sleepy! Is Aunt Lu coming to sleep with me?

I am! Louise tips the wine glass in her hand and hops off the counter, seizing the opportunity to escape the tense atmosphere. But I want pajamas like yours.

Alice is wearing a Stitch onesie pajama where the hood is the character's face, making her look even smaller.

You won't fit in it! she responds obviously.

That's because I'm too tall, right? Your mom always made fun of me for being short! she says and turns to Lara. I'm taller than your daughter.

My daughter is three, Lu.

That doesn't matter!

Lara felt grateful for Louise trying to lighten the mood so Alice wouldn't notice the tension. Louise has always been good at that, when she was a child, she always managed to improve the atmosphere after Leo and I argued or after the sisters fought."

There are pajamas in the guest room, Lara tells Louise. There are new toothbrushes and towels in the bathroom.

Come on, Lili, help me find a pajama that matches yours.

The two of them leave, taking with them the lightness that Alice brought.

You can stay too... Lara says, trying to sound natural.

I prefer my own bed, Helena says. No offense.

Lara shrugs, as if to say so be it.

I'm off then, Helena grabs her bag and leaves without any formal goodbyes.

As soon as she hears the living room door slamming, Mila turns to Lara and informs her:

"I'm