by Grace Palmer
She wobbled forward now, the sidewalk shifting underneath her.
“Whoa,” Shane said, taking a half-step towards her. “Are you okay?”
Okay? Leslie couldn’t even define the word, let alone answer the question.
For the first time in twenty-four years, she’d run into the man responsible for her losing her baby. And mere minutes later, she ran into Shane Murphy for the first time in almost as long.
Shane Murphy. Her first love. Her high school sweetheart.
The father of the baby she’d lost.
Was Leslie Townsend okay? She didn’t know. Maybe if she closed her eyes and thought about it for a second… Maybe she’d be able to figure it out…
If she just closed her eyes…
“Leslie?” Shane’s voice sounded panicked now. But it was quiet. Far away.
Darkness wrapped Leslie in a warm blanket. She fell into it gratefully.
As it turned out, darkness smelled like cedar and spice. Suspiciously like the Christmas tree farm they used to go to each year when Leslie and Michelle were little. Dad would bring a bundle of rope that he’d let the girls carry, constantly reminding them not to wrap it around each other. “It’s for the tree, not your sister,” he’d tell Leslie. “Michelle isn’t a calf. Let her loose.” When she didn’t listen, he’d get stern, but his eyes were always lit with amusement. “Leslie Marie Townsend, that’s enough. Leslie!”
Leslie!
“Leslie!”
She heard her name again, but it didn’t sound like her dad. It wasn’t the deep rumble of his baritone. No, this voice was different. Familiar, but different.
“Leslie, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
Leslie groaned. She felt her body jostle. Like the ground beneath her was shaking.
No, not the ground. Something else. Someone else. There were arms wrapped around her. Strong arms, holding her up and keeping a firm grip on her. Arms that smelled like spiced wood.
“Leslie?” the voice coaxed. “Are you still with me? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
Leslie opened her eyes, blinking through the darkness until she was looking up into the face of Shane Murphy.
Not Shane Murphy the way she remembered him, but an older, more grizzled Shane Murphy. He had the same blonde hair, but now with gray strands peppered at his temples and across his forehead. His eyes were still blue as sea glass, but with considerably more lines around them. Especially when his face was creased with worry.
Which it was. For her.
Because she’d fainted.
Leslie groaned. “This is embarrassing.” Her mouth felt like sandpaper.
“‘Terrifying’ is more like it,” he said, helping her sit up. “You’re lucky I was here. You could have face-planted right into the cement. It would’ve been a different scene.”
“Speaking of which, why are you here?” Leslie was still too disoriented to have much of a filter.
Luckily, Shane misinterpreted the question. “I was actually giving you a ticket. You were parked in a handicap spot.”
Leslie looked towards the blue painted lines under her car and then back at Shane, realizing all at once that he was in uniform. “You’re a… police officer? Here?”
He nodded and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “As of a year ago. After the military, I landed in Boston. I was there until a year ago when I wanted to… come back. Come home.” He glanced down at her quickly and then cleared his throat. “Though, I’m not usually handing out parking citations, but… like I said, it’s your lucky day.”
Was it? Because after the week she’d had, Leslie felt like she might actually be cursed.
“Are you feeling good enough to stand up?” he asked.
His arm shifted around her back. It hit her all at once that he was holding her. Cradling her, really. In the middle of Circuit Street.
“Oh, yeah. Dandy.” Leslie moved her feet under her and stood up. The world swam in front of her and she wobbled slightly, but managed to lean back onto the hood of her car for support.
Shane lowered his chin, his blue eyes gazing up at her with concern. “You sure?”
“Positive.” She smiled, but her lower lip trembled, so she let the expression drop away for something more neutral. Something she could maintain.
“I hope you didn’t faint because of me,” he teased.
Leslie waved the joke away. “No, no. I skipped lunch and I guess I paid the price.”
“Are you hungry?” Shane twisted at the waist, scanning the nearby businesses. “I can get you something. A sandwich or a granola bar. Maybe we could sit down and—”
“I’m fine now.” She hadn’t seen him in over twenty years. Maybe he was married now. Or dating someone. Maybe he had other kids. Leslie couldn’t handle hearing about his life over a hoagie as though he was just any old person from her past. It would chip away at her already cracking façade.
He twisted his lips uncertainly, but shrugged. “Okay. Well, I still don’t think you should drive yourself home. It wouldn’t be safe.”
“I’m fine. Really,” she insisted. “That was a fluke. I almost never faint, so—”
“But you just did and you shouldn’t get behind the wheel of a vehicle afterwards. It could be dangerous.”
They both seemed to realize what he’d said all at once. Leslie stared at him, her heart thundering against her rib cage. Shane stared back—but only for a second. Then his throat bobbed with a guilty gulp and he unclipped his keys from his black leather belt.
“Just… let me drive you home,” he pressed. “Or wherever you’re living these days.”
Leslie wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. He was right. It wasn’t safe. Not for her or anyone else.
“Home,” she confirmed. “The Wayfarer Inn. That’s still… It’s where I live.”
If Shane had any thoughts about her still living in her childhood home, they didn’t show on his face. Leslie was grateful for that. Michelle’s voice had echoed in her head enough over the last few days. More like you were letting Dad take care of you.
He started moving towards where Leslie could see his patrol car a few spaces ahead. She followed along behind him.
“Is your dad around?” Shane asked over his shoulder. “I’d love to see him. It has been so long since I’ve seen the stubborn old goat.”
It was strange to think someone hadn’t heard the news. But then again, this was Shane. He’d always moved through the world with a touch of naivete. A charming kind of obliviousness that Leslie admired. Sometimes, she wished she could be like that.
Forgetting could be such a gift.
“Oh, uh… no. Actually, it’s recent, but he passed away,” she mumbled. “It just happened. The funeral was a few days ago.”
“Oh my God.” He stopped and turned to her. “I’m so sorry, Leslie. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have—”
She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. The shock it sent through her fingertips, almost like an electric surge, surprised her. She jerked her hand back. “It’s okay. Well, it’s sort of horrible, but there has been enough going on that I’ve stayed distracted.”
He stared at her for a few more seconds and Leslie could tell he was punishing himself for his blunder.
“Really, Shane,” she said. She paused to remember what his name felt like on her lips. “It’s okay.”
He sighed and walked around to the passenger side of his car, opening it for her. “So are you running the inn now?” he asked just before he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side. He slipped into the seat next to her. “That was the dream, right? Running the inn?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever been in a cop car,” she said instead of answering his question.
His radio sat right there in its cradle, black and corded like the old home phone Leslie used to stretch into the pantry to talk on. She and Shane could spend hours on the phone, talking about everything and nothing at all.
“I’m glad to hear that,”
he chuckled. “It’s not quite as fancy as it looks. But are you? Running the inn?”
The cab of the car smelled like leather, but also like Shane. Like trees and body wash. She inhaled deeply. “Well, actually…”
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Did I step in it again?”
“No, no, you’re fine,” she assured him. “It’s just that my dad’s will complicated things. We’re working to do some renovation and reopen, but he owed some money and… ah, who knows right now?”
“Dang. I’m sorry.” His hand tensed on the steering wheel. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, though. You always do.”
“Do I?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Your dad just passed away recently and you just found out about the problems with the inn, and you’re already working on a solution. Me, on the other hand? When life throws curveballs at me, I can’t ever seem to adjust fast enough.”
He turned his head slightly, peeking over at Leslie in the passenger seat. She felt like a teenager again. Her palms were sweaty and she wanted to know what he was thinking. What he meant.
Was he talking about her? Was the car accident the curveball in question?
In Leslie’s eyes, he’d adjusted well enough. He’d carried out the plan they’d set and gone into the military. Except Leslie had stayed behind.
“So, you said ‘we’ earlier,” said Shane. “‘We’re working to do some renovations’…Who is ‘we’?”
“Oh, me and Michelle…” Leslie didn’t feel equipped to bring Jill into this just yet.
“Oh, okay. That’s great.” Was it her imagination or did he sound slightly more chipper suddenly?
When they arrived, Shane pulled his car along the curb in front of the inn and bent down to take in the full view through his window. “It looks exactly like I remember.”
“That’s part of the problem,” she laughed. “It hasn’t been updated in so long. And there are a lot of issues. If we’re going to reopen and be successful, things need to be improved on. We’re trying to renovate as much as we can on our own, but we aren’t exactly professionals.”
“I’d be happy to help,” he offered suddenly. “In the evenings and weekends, whenever I can. It’s just me at home. I never had… anyone. Or kids or…” he trailed off. He’d never been one for subtlety. And he’d always been one for putting his foot in his mouth. He sagged his head and sighed. “I have plenty of time, is what I’m saying. Whatever you need.”
So he’d never had any other kids, either. Or been married. That shouldn’t matter, but it did, somehow. Leslie felt better. Less alone than she had in a long time.
“You don’t need to do that, Shane. We can handle it. That’s actually why I was downtown. I was looking for a contractor and—”
Then I saw the man who stole our baby from us. Our future. And I panicked and fainted and made a fool of myself and…
“Let me help,” he said again. “If there’s something I find I can’t do, I have a friend who does handyman work. He’ll cut you a good deal.”
“You just moved back and you already have a friend who can cut me a deal?” Leslie asked.
“I grew up here, remember? I may have left, but I still have plenty of history on the island.”
Again, the air in the car seemed to thicken. With tension. With their shared, unspoken history.
“After everything we’ve been through…” His brow creased and he shook his head. “I want to help. With whatever I can. If you want me to.”
Their eyes met. Just like that, she was a twenty-year-old kid again. Nervous and expectant in the front seat of Shane Murphy’s Nissan. Wondering if he would make the move or if she should.
She inhaled softly and her lips parted. An answer started forming on the tip of her tongue…
But before she could decide what to say or whether to say it, there was a knocking on the window.
Leslie screamed.
15
Michelle
Late Afternoon Outside The Wayfarer Inn
“Is that a police officer?”
“Where?” asked Michelle.
They were two blocks from the inn and Michelle had been admiring the view. Even though she’d grown up seeing it every day, having the ocean just outside her front door never got old. The gentle sloshing of the waves, the way the water faded into the sky at the horizon, like a well-blended oil painting. It calmed her like nothing else could. She didn’t realize until now how much she’d missed it.
Jill pointed straight ahead. “Outside the inn. That looks like a cop car.”
Michelle saw it, too. And her heart leapt into her throat.
Her first thought was for Leslie. But there wasn’t an ambulance, and one cop car hardly spelled out a medical emergency… right?
Her second thought was for herself. Did this have something to do with Tony? Could Michelle be extradited? Maybe a cop was here to interview her, to get her statement or collect her assets or something like that.
Michelle didn’t know anything and she’d tell anyone who asked that truth. But it didn’t mean she wanted to testify. Even if this whole ordeal likely spelled the end of her marriage as she knew it—something she’d done her best not to think about just yet—Michelle still didn’t want to be the person responsible for putting the father of her children in jail.
“I don’t see Leslie’s car. Is she even here?” Michelle said.
“Unless…” Jill’s voice trailed off for a second before she found it again. “What if Leslie was in an accident?”
Again, Michelle’s chest tightened, but she tried to breathe through it. Life had certainly enjoyed kicking her around lately, but that would be too much. Leslie was fine. She knew it.
But just to be safe, she’d make sure.
Michelle pulled her car along the curb behind the officer’s and climbed out, walking confidently up to the passenger side door while Jill hissed warnings behind her.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy? You can’t just knock on a cop’s—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Michelle rapped two knuckles against the glass and stood back. She hadn’t noticed anyone sitting in the passenger seat when she’d pulled up, but now she could see a blonde head. A familiar blonde head.
She heard a scream and then saw her sister whip around, eyes wide.
“Leslie?” Michelle asked.
At the same time, she saw Leslie mouth, “Michelle?”
The door popped open and Leslie clamored out of the car. Her cheeks were flushed and she took a few large steps away from the car like she expected it to burst into flames.
“What are you doing in the front seat of a cop car?” Michelle whispered.
“What were you doing knocking on the window?” Leslie hissed back.
Michelle didn’t have time to explain her thought process or her worries before the driver’s side door opened and an officer’s head rose up over the roof.
“Hey, Michelle,” the man said. “Good to see you again.”
Michelle stared at him for several awkward seconds before she found her voice. “Hi, Shane. What are you doing here?”
…with Leslie? she finished in her mind.
Was this a known thing? Had Leslie been seeing her high school boyfriend again without saying anything to Michelle?
It was possible. Leslie had no reason to tell Michelle anything. And no opportunity, really. They hadn’t talked in so long.
“I ran into your sister downtown,” he said easily, smiling past Michelle at Leslie. “When you get her inside, make sure she eats. She fainted.”
Michelle spun around. “You fainted?”
“It was nothing,” Leslie said through clenched teeth. Then she waved at Shane. “Thanks for the ride, Officer.”
Well, that certainly did not sound like a send-off befitting a secret romantic partner. And when Michelle turned back to Shane, she thought she saw a flash of hurt on his face.
He recovered quickly, though. “Of course. Anything you Townse
nd women need, I’m your man.”
“Thanks.” Leslie lifted one hand in a quick, lifeless wave and then started moving towards the house without looking back.
“I mean it,” Shane called after her. “Anything at all.”
Leslie didn’t even turn around. A minute later, Shane was gone.
“What was that about?” Michelle asked her sister, jogging to catch up.
Jill appeared a second later, carrying in the first load of their trashy treasures. “Who was that?”
“Apparently, Shane Murphy is a police officer now,” Leslie said. “He said he moved back a year ago.”
“And do you two sit together in his car often or—”
Leslie cut her off. “He didn’t call me up when he got back to town, if that’s what you mean. This is the first time I’ve seen him.”
“And you fainted,” Jill said. “Honestly, I’d faint, too. He is handsome. And in uniform?” She fanned herself.
“Shane and Leslie used to date. High school sweethearts,” Michelle explained. “They broke up after—”
“After he went into the military,” Leslie finished hurriedly. She held open the front door and helped Jill get inside. “But he was right; I do need to eat. I’m hungry.”
Michelle sensed an intentional topic change, but she allowed it. She didn’t want to push Leslie too far. Not yet.
“I think we’ve all done enough work for today and you’ve certainly done enough cooking,” Michelle said to Leslie. “Why don’t we go out? We can get some dinner, maybe grab some drinks. I haven’t had a night out on the island in a while.”
“I haven’t had one ever,” Jill underscored, clapping her hands excitedly. “I’d love to explore a bit.”
Michelle nodded. “Then it’s settled. Ladies, go change and freshen up. We’re hitting the town.”
Dinner was a greasy, cheesy affair. Michelle was glad she’d worn her jeans with the extra stretch. The hamburger she’d eaten felt like a boulder in her stomach.
