The Cottage on Nantucket

by Jessie Newton

  “You’ll throw your own father out?”

  “You’re not my father.” Janey took a step forward. “Get off my porch right now.” She suddenly didn’t need the police. She was going to use the muscles she’d gained from all of her Crossfit training to rip this man apart right where he stood.

  Riggs actually smiled as he stared at her. Then he spun and went down the steps, leaving the porch just as she’d demanded.

  Relief sagged through Janey, and she actually slumped against the nearby porch railing. Her pulse rippled through her veins, and she pulled in breath after breath of air, trying to calm down.

  “Riggs can not be my father,” she whispered. “Please, Lord, anyone but him.”

  If not him, then who?

  Janey needed to find out.

  Janey needed to talk to Dale Harton.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Thank you for moving the money over,” Janey said, folding a tank top and laying it in her bag. This trip from Nantucket felt entirely different than her last one, where she’d packed haphazardly and lied to Tessa to get out of the house.

  She’d rescheduled a business trip to Dallas and gone to New York instead. She’d found a locket and a letter and a house in the Hamptons.

  Surely more than three weeks had passed since she’d stepped foot on this island for the first time in a couple of years.

  “Of course,” Tessa said. “It’s money we’re both entitled to, and once all the expenses for being here and dealing with all of this are tallied and done, we’ll split whatever is left right down the middle.”

  “You’ll be okay here alone?” Janey turned toward Tessa. “Riggs is unhinged. He’s dangerous.” She’d told Tessa about the encounter on the porch from a mere hour ago. “I’d feel so much better if you stayed in a hotel. There are plenty to choose from.”

  “Sean said the same thing,” Tessa said, her hands worrying around one another. “Let me pack a bag, and I’ll ride to town with you.” She bustled out of the room, and Janey finished her packing. She sat on the edge of the bed and called Sean.

  “Tessa needs a room tonight,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow night too.” She proceeded to tell him about the conversation with Riggs, her plans to fly to Maryland to visit Dale Harton, and that she didn’t want Tessa to stay in the cottage alone.

  “I’ve got a room at The Harbor Gull,” he said. “It’s no problem. Do you guys need a ride?”

  “Tessa will have the car.”

  Her sister appeared in the doorway, her bag ready. “We’re leaving now,” Janey said. “I’ll call you when I have more information.”

  “Janey,” Sean said. “Be safe, okay? Think, please.”

  “I will.” The call ended, and annoyance ran through Janey. She’d met Sean a few weeks ago, and she didn’t need the lecture about being safe and thinking. He wasn’t her father. He wasn’t even really her boyfriend.

  Confused and irritated, she stuck her phone in her purse and stood. “Let’s go. Sean got you a room at The Harbor Gull.”

  “Really? That place is so nice. I’m surprised they’re not booked in the middle of the summer.”

  “His office has a suite on standby all the time for clients,” she said, smiling. “Now let’s see if we can get out of here without running into Riggs.”

  A few hours later, Janey navigated her rental car down a sleepy Baltimore suburb with houses as big as the mansion where she’d eaten lunch the previous day. The sky shone down with brilliant waves of azure and cream, and it was the type of perfect summer afternoon painters put on canvas. The type great writers stuffed into their literary masterpieces.

  Right now, it was that sky that kept Janey grounded.

  Her fingers had not rested for a single moment since leaving the cottage. She’d texted, called, searched, and recalled to find out where Dale Harton had ended up. In the end, it had been Rachel, her daughter, who’d found the right number at the right hospital to get a forwarding address.

  Dale had finally retired last year, after his wife had become extremely ill. Janey’s stomach quaked with adrenaline and nerves as she pulled into the drive of a huge, red-brick mansion with four tall pillars on the front porch. Baskets of flowers hung from the ceiling of the porch, and everything from the blades of grass to the bushes lining the sidewalks had been clipped and trimmed to precise measurements.

  She sat in the car for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. She’d been thinking about it for hours, and her mind was no closer to a solution now than she had been when she’d poured her coffee that morning.

  With nothing left to do but take the next step, Janey got out of the car. The walk to the front door seemed to take forever, and she clutched the envelope she’d brought with her in one hand and the strap of her purse in the other.

  The door spanned the width of two and looked like it had been polished in the very recent past. A doormat said that the dogs were the doorbell, but when Janey rang the actual bell, she heard no barking inside. She heard nothing but the whisper of the wind through the leaves in the trees and the beating of her own heart.

  She reached up and pushed her hair back, wishing she’d gone to her hotel to freshen up before coming straight here. Doubts streamed through her, infecting her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.

  “His wife is sick,” she muttered even as she reached for the doorbell again.

  More silence, and then just when Janey was about to turn and start to make a Plan B, the door opened.

  Dale Harton himself stood there, and Janey examined him with new eyes. Eyes that wanted to see things in him that she’d seen on her own face for forty-six years. Eyes that could somehow see past skin and bone to blood, and even further to DNA particles.

  “Janey Clarke,” he said, surprise filling his voice. He swallowed as if nervous and glanced past her. “Did you come alone? Where’s Tessa?”

  “She had some business elsewhere,” Janey said, her voice hoarse. She held up the envelope. “Did you deliver the title to my mother’s car to Sean Masterson a few days ago?”

  Resignation filled his expression now, and while his hair had turned gray and was going white in some places, his dark eyes still had plenty of life left in them. They sparked with an energy Janey had seen in Riggs’s eyes, but she wasn’t afraid of Dale.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You said you were my father.” Janey tucked the envelope into her purse. “Could I come in for a few minutes? I understand Joan is ill, but I really don’t think this is a conversation we should have on your doorstep.”

  Dale fell back a couple of steps, his profile getting washed away in the dim light inside. “Come in,” he said. “Joan’s asleep, so I have a few minutes.”

  Janey stepped into the house, thinking Dale definitely had her chin. Or she had his. Could he really be her father?

  He showed her into a sitting room that held furniture that probably cost as much as Janey’s whole house in Jersey. She wished she had something to drink, and then Dale appeared, holding out a bottle of water for her. He settled into the couch in front of the bay window and uncapped his own water.

  Janey perched on the edge of the couch and guzzled hers, trying to find the right question to lead with. There was only one.

  “Are you my father?” she asked.

  Dale took a long, deep breath and blew it out, the seconds ticking by. Each one accelerated Janey’s pulse and forced her throat into a narrow tube.

  He finally said, “I don’t know, Janey. I simply don’t know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Your mother was having an affair with all of us that summer,” Dale said. He’d finished his bottle of water ten minutes ago, but he hadn’t slowed down in his story. “Myself, your father, who was my best friend, and Riggs Friedman. We all knew about the other, and in the end, I honestly don’t know what we thought would happen.”

  He wore a smile, as if the days of yesteryear really were that amazing. As if sharing one woma
n with his best friend and one of his enemies had been a real treat.

  “A summer fling, I suppose.” He looked at Janey, the smile vanishing. “When she found out she was pregnant, she essentially chose who she wanted to be the father. She chose Greg, and they got married literally the next weekend. You came along eight months later, and while I suspected you might be mine, I didn’t push the issue. I’d met Joan by then, and your dad was happy with Lydia. They were happily married, Janey. I saw no reason to disrupt that.”

  “What about Riggs?” Janey asked, her voice a bit rusted from the long listening spell.

  “He left Nantucket the day after the wedding,” Dale said with a shrug. “When I heard he’d married Bobbie, I was actually pretty stunned. He’d seemed so broken up over the wedding, but six months later, there he was, buying the cottage right behind Lydia’s and Greg’s, and Bobbie was pregnant within the first month.”

  “Did you…?” She didn’t know how to finish, because she didn’t know the question to ask. She struggled for a few moments, and then asked, “Do you think he knew the baby. Might be his?”

  “If he did, he never said anything to me about it,” Dale said. “Of course, Riggs and I weren’t friends. We didn’t talk about much of anything. Your mother loved Bobbie, and that was why they came to our picnics and dinners and all of that.”

  Janey nodded, thinking of the pictures. “You never got a DNA test? Paternity test? Anything like that?”

  He shook his head. “When Greg died, I co-signed on the car to help your mother. She needed it, and she didn’t have the money. I’ve wondered if you were mine for almost fifty years, but I never gave your mom any money or anything. I suppose that co-sign was me letting her know that if you were mine, and she needed help, I’d be there to help her. She never asked me for anything else, ever again.”

  “Do you think you’re my father?” she asked. “I mean, I know you said you don’t know, but surely my mom wasn’t sleeping with all of you in the same day.”

  Dale shifted uncomfortably in his seat and finally got up. “She…I know your dad and I were with her together. It’s entirely possible you’re his or mine, and yes, that happened at the same time.”

  Janey did not need to know this. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the images that had suddenly bloomed to life inside her mind.

  “Okay,” she said quickly. “So the only way to know is a blood test.”

  “If you want to know that badly, yes,” he said.

  “You don’t think I should know?” she asked.

  “Why do you need to?” he asked. “I’m not going to interfere in your life. You’ve been living and operating with the knowledge that Greg Clarke is your dad. Why does it matter?”

  Janey wasn’t sure why it mattered, only that it did. “Well, legally,” she said. “It matters, because Riggs is claiming he has a right to some of Mom’s inheritance.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “There are medical histories to consider,” she said, though that was a weak reason to want to know who she should be calling Dad, and she knew it. Peace of mind would be nice too. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she learned Riggs Friedman was her father.

  She already felt like she didn’t know the woman she saw when she looked in the mirror.

  “I can order a kit from the hospital,” he said. “I’ll have it sent to you.”

  “How long does that take?” she asked.

  “Once they have my sample and yours, it should only take a day or two,” he said.

  “Tell me where to go,” Janey said.

  “If we use Johns Hopkins,” he said. “They’ll have your father’s DNA on file too. Then you’ll know if it’s him or me, at least. And if it’s neither of us, then you’ll know if it’s Riggs too.”

  Relief filled Janey, though her stomach still felt like someone had inflated it beyond capacity and then tied a knot in it. She needed someone to pierce it with a pin, making it burst. Then maybe she’d be able to take a full breath. Then maybe she’d be able to function properly again.

  “Okay,” she said. “Johns Hopkins it is.”

  “Let me make a few calls,” he said. “It’s an hour drive. You’re okay to do that?”

  “Yes.” Janey nodded and got to her feet. Whether she could drive for an hour or not was irrelevant. She needed to do it, therefore, she could do it.

  “You can wait here,” he said. “Let me go get changed and get a friend on the phone. Then we can get this done in a discreet way.”

  “Discreet would be great,” Janey said, relieved Dale had received her so easily. Of course, he’d known about Mom’s affairs. Heck, he’d had a threesome with her at some point in the past.

  Janey shook the thoughts out of her head again, and she couldn’t sit back down. She paced in the sitting room until Dale returned, a lab number at the university hospital and a confirmed time for one hour in the future.

  Now, she just needed to get her blood taken, and then she’d know who she needed to deal with.

  She’d know who she really was.

  Chapter Forty

  “Janey.” Tessa lifted her hand, and Janey changed directions to head toward her sister. She said nothing as she stepped into her arms. She’d told Tessa everything over the phone last night, and she honestly couldn’t go round and round the whole situation again.

  The paternity test was only sixteen hours old, but Janey couldn’t help feeling like the results should be back by now. Impatience ripped through her like a stiff sail on a boat, and it hit her so strongly that she felt it in the back of her throat.

  “Let’s go to lunch.” Tessa linked her arm through Janey’s. “I know you don’t want to talk about anything. Let’s go shopping, and charter a boat, and get drunk.” She beamed at Janey, but she only smiled and shook her head.

  “Tessa, you don’t get drunk,” Janey said. “I don’t want to either. Just a couple of drinks to help me relax.”

  Tessa looked away, and Janey felt something pinch behind her lungs. Could Tessa be hiding something from her?

  You’ve hidden plenty from her, Janey told herself. She’d shown Tessa and Sean the birth certificate, but she hadn’t disclosed the second letter that had come with it. Tessa had asked her if she’d received anything after going to the bank and the hotel in the city, and Janey had lied and said no.

  Not just hidden something—she’d flat out lied to her sister.

  It hadn’t mattered in the end. Tessa had gone to the house, and Janey hadn’t been surprised when the next-door neighbor hadn’t known who she was. Mom’s second letter to her had said as much.

  My dearest Janey,

  Tessa needs to take care of the house on Long Island. No one there knows about you, and once she’s been there, you’ll be able to go. But she needs to handle the house alone. I have no doubt a friend of mine there will give her all the details about the house, and because you’ve obviously been to the bank and the hotel, Tessa will keep you informed.

  She’ll come back with a package, and Janey, I know I owe you a lot of answers. I was too weak in life to tell you the truth, and all I can do at this point is pray that you’ll find a way to forgive me. Write these letters and pray.

  I love you, and I hope you won’t think too badly of me once you know everything.

  Love, Mom

  * * *

  Janey didn’t know what to think. She knew she didn’t want to think of her mom having a sexual relationship with three different men in one summer. She didn’t want to think about how she’d been conceived.

  At the same time, Janey felt a deeper connection to her mother, surprising as that may be. But Mom had entertained multiple relationships at the same time, and Janey didn’t have a problem doing that too.

  She knew who the father of her children was, though, and that was a marked difference.

  “Lobster mac and cheese?” Tessa asked. “Or one of those crab cakes you can’t stop eating?”

  Janey blinked her way out of
her mind, which took several long seconds. She looked at her sister, wondering how she could tease at a time like this. Of course, Tessa knew who she was, as her heritage wasn’t up in the air. She had a stable family life, whereas Janey still felt like she was akin to a flag, flapping this way and that, according to whichever way the wind happened to be blowing.

  She hated being alone, and she couldn’t even come to Nantucket without finding a man to accompany her, to text with, and to kiss.

  “Mac and cheese,” Janey said. “And lobster. I need Nantucket comfort food.”

  “You’ve got it.” Tessa led her to the car that belonged to Janey, at least in title. “I know the perfect place.”

  “If it’s a food truck, I’m out,” Janey said. “You have me eating out of cardboard way too much.”

  “It’s not a food truck.” Tessa drove them to the edge of downtown, on the northern side of Nantucket, to a restaurant that looked out over the Sound. Boats dotted the water, and the wispy clouds in the sky slashed through the light blue sky high above the deeper azure of the water.

  Janey took a long, deep breath, feeling some of the bits and pieces of herself that had gotten knocked loose get put back where they belonged. She did love Nantucket. She loved the beach. She’d been conceived here, born in Maryland, and brought back here every year of her life until the age of sixteen.

  She’d missed a few years in her late teens and twenties, but she’d been coming regularly in the past fifteen years or so too.

  “I’ll sign the papers,” she said to Tessa the moment they’d gotten a table. Both chairs faced the water, and the gentle sound of water lapping the shore infused her with even more peace. The scent of salt, sunshine, and soup filled the air, and Janey’s stomach grumbled at her for not eating in so long.

  Tessa looked up from her menu. “Really?”

  “Sorry I didn’t before,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been up and down, back and forth, in and out.” She sighed and smiled at her sister in a wobbly way. “I know it doesn’t make sense. When I first came to Nantucket, I was ready to put the island in my rearview mirror. I didn’t need to come here anymore, especially if Mom couldn’t be here.”