The rain pelted Zoey’s cheek and ear as she angled her face in his direction. “Why should I believe that?”
“Because it’s the truth. And all of my actions have shown I care about Ivy too much to betray her like that.”
“But the other day you said—”
“Something really stupid. Something I didn’t mean. I was stressed out.” Nick stepped closer, his voice going low. “I-I was disappointed.”
“Disappointed in what?”
“If you come inside—if you invite me inside, I’ll tell you.”
Zoey dropped the shovel and clapped dirt from her hands. “All right. Fine.”
Gabi was waiting, looking scared, with a stack of towels. Once Zoey had dried off, she went upstairs to change her clothes. When she came down, Gabi and Nick were in the living room. “I made hot tea but there’s also iced tea in the fridge if you want that instead,” Gabi said.
“Hot tea is fine. Thanks.” Zoey sat down at one end of the sofa. “It’s late. You should go to bed now.”
“You sure?” Gabi looked apprehensive.
“Yes. We’ll talk about all of this in the morning, honey.”
So she said goodnight and a very fluffy Moby followed her out of the room. Nick sat down in the armchair opposite Zoey and they quietly sipped their tea until she prompted, “You were going to tell me why you were disappointed?”
He cleared his throat. “Ivy was one of my first clients when I came back to Dune Island. It was after my father died and Aidan had just been through a really rough patch, too. Ivy and Sylvia were really kind to us. The way they treated us… I don’t know, I guess I’d say it helped us heal. And it was a privilege to get to know them, to hear their stories, too. So even though I want what’s best for Ivy, and even though I heard Mark talking about an assisted living facility at Sylvia’s funeral, I was disappointed when you said she was seriously considering moving.”
“That’s not how you acted,” Zoey replied, but her attitude toward him was softening. “You acted as if it was no big deal. You basically said all that you cared about was how her decision affected your work on the kitchen.”
“Yeah, that was a defense mechanism.” Nick shifted in his chair. “A way of putting some distance between me and Ivy so I wouldn’t feel sad about her going.”
“Oh, I see.” She was touched by Nick’s candid admission.
“It was also a knee-jerk reaction to you springing it on me that you’d been offered the job—which is great news, obviously. But I kind of felt like, well, like I’d held down the fort for you at your aunt’s house both times you were away on your interviews, and then when it paid off—when you got the job—you didn’t even mention it. I had to ask you about it and even then, you glossed right over it, like it was none of my business.”
“Oh, no! I’m so grateful that you’ve covered for me during my family’s crises. If I glossed over the job offer, it’s only because so many other more important things have been going on and I’m not even sure if I want the position. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate that better. But your friendship means a lot to me—that’s why I was hurt by what you said the other day.”
“Yeah, the second I saw the look on your face, I wished I could take my words back.”
“They’re already forgotten,” Zoey said, giving him a small smile. His apology went a long way toward making an awful day a tiny bit better. But other matters still weighed heavily on her mind and she realized they wouldn’t be so easily resolved. They might not be resolved at all.
“So, can I ask why you were transplanting roses in dark—and in the rain?”
“I was transplanting them. I-I was looking for something.”
“You mean like a buried treasure?”
“I guess you could say that.” Zoey rubbed her temples, admitting aloud what she already knew in her heart, “But it turns out that what I thought was a treasure hunt was really a wild goose chase.”
“Are you sure? Because tomorrow I could help you dig.”
“Thanks, but no.” She could know see that it was ridiculous to believe her dignified, ladylike aunt would have buried evidence related to her son’s paternity beneath a rose bush. She felt herself blush with shame as she remembered how determined she had been to believe, just a few minutes ago, that all her problems could be solved by digging a hole in the ground. “I’m sorry you had to see me acting so foolishly.”
“It’s no problem. I’ve known for a while you don’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain,” he playfully needled her.
It took a second for Zoey to recall the time she’d refused a ride from him in a rainstorm. “That wasn’t because I didn’t have enough sense. It was because I thought you were friends with Mark, so, guilt by association, that kind of thing. Sadly, I have a few trust issues.”
“My ex-wife was unfaithful to me with more than one man over the years,” Nick confided. “So I’ve developed a few trust issues, too.”
Oh! The lightbulb went off in Zoey’s mind. Now I understand why he’s been “shuffling” for so long. She empathized, “That must have been painful.”
“It was. But I’m in a better place now. Literally, because I’m living on Dune Island. But my head and heart are in a better place, too.” He redirected the focus back to Zoey. “Anyway, I’m glad Gabi called me tonight.”
“I am, too. But it really does seem like you always catch me at my most embarrassing moments—probably because I have so many of them.” Zoey’s chuckle turned into a sob and she covered her face with her arm as she leaned back against the cushion. “I am such a mess.”
Nick must have known she wasn’t referring to taking her pantyhose off in the park or falling between the joists or digging up the roses, because he came over, sat down and put his arm around her shoulder. And in the comfort of his embrace—the hug she’d been craving all day—she told him about Ivy being in the hospital. And Mark’s conniving schemes. About Mr. Witherell dying and Gabi jumping his fence. She even told him about Erik bankrupting her.
“Usually being on Dune Island helps me get my life together. It gives me a new perspective. But I’ve been here for over four months and I’m still a mess—and I’ve made a mess of everything for my family, too.” She enumerated her failings, crying, “I’ve failed to take good care of my aunt. I’ve failed to keep my niece out of trouble. And I’ve failed to stop Mark from taking over the house.”
Nick took her by the shoulders, gently angling her to face him so he could look into her eyes. “Are you kidding me, Zoey? You haven’t made a mess of everything for your family—you’ve held everything together. I’m convinced, I’m one hundred percent positive, that Ivy and Gabi and even Mark would have been completely lost if you hadn’t been here to look after them. Or in Mark’s case, to set him straight. You may have made some mistakes, but as you once told me, no one gets it right all the time. The important thing is you’ve acted out of love. Out of a fierce desire to do what’s in your family’s best interest.” He leaned back again, pulling her with him so that her cheek rested on his chest. Over her head, he said softly, “Ivy and Gabi and Mark are very fortunate to have you.”
And I’m very fortunate to have you, Zoey wanted to tell him, but before she could say it, she’d fallen asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Zoey woke to Gabi jostling her feet. “Auntie?” She hadn’t called Zoey that since she was six or seven.
“Morning, Gabi.” She bent her legs to make room for her niece at the end of the couch.
“I have to go to school pretty soon, but I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I scared you yesterday. When you couldn’t find me, I mean.” Her fair skin was pink around her nose and eyes; she’d been crying. Or she was about to cry.
Zoey propped herself up on her elbows. “I’m sorry I scared you last night, too.”
“I also wanted to tell you nobody ever dared me to take my dad’s car. I lied. I took it because Kathleen wasn’t home and he was drinking and I heard him say o
n the phone that he’d meet his friend at the bar. I didn’t want him to get a DUI or to hurt somebody.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Zoey swung her legs off the sofa and sat up so she could put her arm around her niece. “Why didn’t you just take his keys?”
“He has, like, four or five sets. I never could have found them all in time.”
“I guess that makes sense then.” She smoothed her niece’s hair back so she could see her face. “Since you’re coming clean, do you want to tell me why you went to Mr. Witherell’s house?”
“To see if he had a photo of Aunt Sylvia beside his bed, like everyone said.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know. The door was locked and I couldn’t see in the windows. It was kind of a wasted effort.”
“So was digging up the roses. I was looking for a clue for Marcus Jr.’s paternity—I had a crazy idea that Aunt Sylvia might have hidden some sort of evidence there, but no luck,” Zoey admitted. She somberly apologized, “I’ve been a horrible example to you and I am so, so sorry. I let this entire situation get out of hand.”
“It’s not your fault. I was getting into trouble doing things like stealing cars long before I came here.”
“I’m being serious, Gabi. It’s time for both of us to give up trying to prove who Marcus Jr.’s father was. And it’s time to accept that whether or not Mark is a Winslow, he’s going to take possession of Aunt Ivy’s house very soon. As much as we want what’s best for her and as much as we treasure her home, it’s not worth it for us to behave as irresponsibly and recklessly as we’ve been behaving. And it’s not worth feeling so desperate or worried or obsessed. If Aunt Ivy wants to give the house to Mark and move into an assisted living facility—even if he’s manipulating her into it—that’s her decision. Can I trust you to give up trying to prove Mark isn’t a Winslow, for once and for all?”
“Yes, you can trust me.” Gabi nodded solemnly and Zoey knew she meant it.
“There’s something else I’d like you to think about… I love how thoughtful and perceptive you are. Your mom would have loved that about you, too. But it’s important that you understand you are not responsible for your dad’s behavior or for making Kathleen happy or for helping me solve my financial or housing problems, et cetera. You are only responsible for your behavior and choices. Right?”
“Right.” Gabi was masking her face with her hair again.
“That didn’t sound too convincing. What’s on your mind?”
“I sort of took responsibility for Aunt Ivy… I lied about lying. I mean, about the bathtub overflowing. I didn’t leave the faucet running. Aunt Ivy did. She had started to run her bath and then I asked if she wanted to play cribbage while the tub was filling. So we were playing for a while but then Connor called. So I left to talk to him and she must have been concentrating on waiting for me to come back, not thinking about the tub—which seems totally understandable. But when I heard you and Mark talking, he was acting like she was losing her memory and couldn’t live alone. So I said I did it. ”
“Mm, well, I suspected you might have been covering for her but I wasn’t sure so I let it go.”
“Why did you suspect it?”
“You were being melodramatic.” Zoey imitated how her niece had been shaking her shoulders when she was crying. “That’s not your style. You were exaggerating it so much that you almost dropped Moby on the floor.”
“I know—I felt so bad about that!” Gabi exclaimed. Then she hastily added, “And about lying, of course.”
Zoey fought a smile as she pointed at her niece. “None of that kind of stuff can happen any more. Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Good, so do I. And… I hope you’ll keep going to your group meetings if you find them helpful.” When Gabi’s mouth dropped open, Zoey confessed, “Aidan told me—but only because he was trying to help. Or because he was a little afraid of me.”
“Just so you know, I don’t like him, like him. Well, I did at the very beginning but then I found out he’s going out with a senior,” Gabi said, which made Zoey wonder if that’s why she’d been so moody a few weeks earlier. “I’m glad we’re friends though. He’s the one who brought me to the group and made sure I felt comfortable when I was kind of nervous the first time. He’s sort of a big brother. And anyway, I kind of like Connor now.”
“Good choice.” Zoey grinned. “You’d better get going or you’ll be late for school.”
“I can hardly wait to hear the gossip about me jumping Mr. Witherell’s fence,” she said drolly. “And about you digging up the rose bushes.”
Zoey laughed. “We’re Winslow women. It’s part of our heritage to be the subjects of gossip. But we can take it. We’re tough—that’s part of our heritage, too.”
After Gabi left, Zoey noticed that her knees were grimy and she had scratches and thick smudges of dirt on her arms and legs, so she went upstairs for a shower. Within half an hour, she was almost ready to leave to visit Ivy in the hospital, when she heard a muffled tone sounding from the couch—her phone had slipped between the cushions the previous evening.
Zoey slid it out and glanced at the screen. The call was from an area code she didn’t recognize until the caller identified herself as Melissa Carter. The woman gruffly asked Zoey why she had called and since she’d just promised Gabi she’d drop the subject of Mark’s paternity, Zoey fudged her reply.
After confirming Melissa was, indeed, Mr. Witherell’s niece, she said, “I wanted to express my condolences. My aunt spoke very highly of your uncle. She appreciated his vigilance in keeping Benjamin’s Harbor safe.”
“That’s one way of putting it, but I appreciate the thought,” Melissa replied. “Sorry if I seemed curt when I answered, but you wouldn’t believe the phone calls I’ve been getting. As soon as Uncle Phin died, the vultures started sweeping in. Most of them want to place bids on his property and I have to refer them to Hope Haven’s Search and Rescue, since he donated the land to the association for them to sell. But a few tricksters are after an inheritance, claiming to be his kids or his grandkids. I tell them that would be a miracle.”
Zoey’s skin tingled. Her curiosity got the best of her and she asked. “Why is that?”
“My uncle was infertile since he was eighteen. Cancer treatments,” the woman divulged candidly. “Hey, your aunt didn’t happen to be the Winslow girl, did she?”
Zoey swallowed. “Y-yes.”
“How about that?! My father told me there was only one girl his brother was ever interested in—the Winslow girl. It never went anywhere, though. It was just as well, since Uncle Phin was better suited for bachelorhood than marriage. He would have made her miserable and he would have been miserable, too. People don’t know that about him, but once he got used to being alone in the lighthouse, he wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Melissa said. “You know what? The attorney sent me a box of stuff from his attic. I saw a photo of your aunt—her name was on the back. I don’t have any use for it, so I’ll send it to you in case your aunt wants it.”
Instead of explaining Sylvia was now deceased, Zoey gave her Ivy’s address. After disconnecting, she lingered in front of the window, gazing down the hill toward the water. The day was gray and wet and a thick fog shrouded the harbor. But every five seconds, Sea Gull Lighthouse alternately flashed red, then white. Red, then white. Transfixed, she contemplated what Mr. Witherell’s niece had told her. Even though Zoey meant it when she told Gabi she was done pursuing Marcus Jr.’s paternity, she was relieved that she’d inadvertently discovered the truth at last, so there’d be no niggling doubt in her mind.
If she hadn’t already accepted that Mark was going to take over the house in September, she might have been more disappointed to find out that Mr. Witherell couldn’t have possibly been his father’s father. But if she felt any disappointment now, it was on Mr. Witherell’s behalf because the only woman he was ever interested in didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Not that she thought Sylvia was under any ob
ligation to return his affections. On the contrary, Zoey admired her for standing firm and turning him down—despite his notes or visit to the house—so she could follow her heart and marry Marcus. Yet a part of her wished Mr. Witherell could have found someone else.
Maybe his niece is right—that he really did prefer to be alone. Maybe it was better that Aunt Sylvia rejected him, for both their sakes. She smiled to herself, remembering her aunt’s truism, “Sometimes, these things have a way of working out for best for everyone.”
The long, loud blare of a foghorn snapped her out of her thoughts and she grabbed the bag of items Ivy had requested and hurried to the garage. Since the fence was no longer an obstacle, she drove the Caddy to the hospital. Just after pulling into the street, she spotted Nick coming up the hill in his truck. They rolled down their windows and greeted each other. It was raining but Nick’s eyes were all the blue sky Zoey needed for the day.
“You going to visit Ivy?” he asked.
“I was on my way, yes—but if you came here to chat with me, I’ll back up.”
“No!” He protested vehemently. “Don’t back up—I’ve seen what happens when you drive in reverse.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” He was funny though. Funny and thoughtful and handsome. And he’d seen Zoey at some of her worst moments but he’d still come back this morning.
“You should go ahead to the hospital. I just came by to take a look at the ceiling in the best room, since last evening I was, uh, too distracted to do it. I’ll pop in and out, if that’s okay. Ivy hides a spare key for me near the birdfeeder.”
“You came all the way here to do that? What about your other clients?”
“They can wait. This is my priority.” He added, “Ivy’s materials were delivered so I plan to surprise her and finish the remodel before she gets back from the hospital. Aidan’s going to help me in the afternoons. I’ve ordered new fencing, too, and when it stops raining, he’ll take care of the rose bed.”
Aunt Ivy's Cottage: A totally gripping and emotional page turner Page 25
