by Ciara Shayee
It’s kind of nice having Piper here while I make sure everything is as it should be. It’s even nicer knowing I’ll have her company for a little longer while I take her home.
Mercifully, it’s a shade cooler tonight, so I don’t need to crank up the A/C. With the windows down and the roads blissfully clear, a little speed does the trick. The breeze flowing through the car is more than enough to take away the worst of the heat.
Piper sits back against the seat with a sigh. “I miss England.”
Frowning, I glance over at her. “I wouldn’t say that in front of your parents. They’ll probably lock you up to stop you going back.”
“Oh, I don’t miss it enough to move back!”
For some reason, the ever-present ache in my chest loosens its grip on me just enough for me to take a deep breath.
“It’s just…I had a great job, doing something I actually enjoyed. And I didn’t have to work until a ridiculous time of night or deal with Isaac and Paulette Vaughn.”
I can sympathize with part of her dilemma, at least. I’m lucky enough to love my job, late hours and all, but Isaac Vaughn—and his bitch of a niece—not so much. He was already next door when I bought the restaurant and he’s been a pain in the ass ever since.
“What’s he up to now?”
“Oh, the usual. He’s just a miserable old bastard.”
Snorting, I nod and agree. “Ain’t that the truth.” I wonder why she puts up with him, though.
She doesn’t have to work at all, but I bet Carson and Bethany would have hired her to work at In The Bay if she’d asked. She’d at least have flexibility there. Uncharacteristic nosiness demands that I ask the question. “Did you ever consider going to work for your parents?”
“Like in high school? No-freaking-way.”
That’s right—I forgot she used to man the reception desk when she was still in school. “Why not?”
I can feel her eyes on the side of my face as she takes her time to answer. I can’t bring myself to look her way, not wanting to see the questions reflected back at me. It’s not like me to be inquisitive and we both know it.
“Honestly…I guess, pride.”
At that, my eyes briefly jump over to her face. She’s frowning, her gray eyes narrowed as she stares out of the windshield.
“I made this big deal about how I was going to England to study and I was going to come back and become this successful writer. Instead, I’ve come back a single mom with three kids and a useless degree because nowhere in this town, or anywhere even close, is hiring.”
That doesn’t surprise me, really—Jackson Bay isn’t exactly a hub of activity, writing-wise. We have the local newspaper, but that’s it and the same people have been working there since I moved here. Short of going into teaching, there’s not a whole lot else she could do unless she’s willing to commute to one of the bigger cities. Jacksonville is probably the closest with the best options, but it’s still over an hour away.
“Have you thought about teaching? I’m sure any of the bay schools would gladly have you.”
Piper snorts. I glance her way, the corners of her eyes crinkled by her smile. “God, could you imagine? Me, a teacher…now there’s a thought, huh?”
“You’ve got experience with kids,” I point out. “And you could use that fancy English degree you worked so hard for. Plus, you wouldn’t have to commute.”
“But I’d have to go back to school and get my teaching degree first. I barely have time for a life already, without school on top of work and the boys.”
Grimacing, I concede with a dip of my chin. “That’s true. Okay, so something to think about for the future, maybe.”
“Sure. I mean, eventually, all three boys will be at school. I can dump them there and finally have some guilt-free me-time.”
My blood runs cold, the thumping of my heart suddenly loud in the confined space.
She didn’t say it to hurt me, I know that, but it does.
“God, I’m so sorry, Kellan! I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” Rolling to a stop outside her parents’ house, I force a faint smile. A thoroughly unconvincing one, if her guilty expression is anything to go by. “I know what you meant.”
The steely sorrow in her eyes cuts me to the core, but it’s what I’m used to now. It’s not quite the sympathy I’ve grown to despise, but close enough. “Kellan…”
A car backfiring startles us both. We jump, Piper’s laugh strained as I stare out of the windshield at the starry night sky and wonder if she’s up there watching us right now.
Movement in the corner of my eye precedes a small, warm hand landing just above my knee. Piper’s gaze is gentle as the corners of her mouth turn up. “Thank you for the ride home. I really appreciate it.”
Grateful for her intuition and the change of subject, I nod. “You’re welcome. Any time.”
Silence descends for a few long moments before she finally breathes a loud yawn. Her eyes water as she shakes her head and reaches for the clip to unbuckle herself, her eyes soft and yet intense enough that my racing pulse struggles to slow. “Sweet dreams, Kellan.”
Like yesterday, I watch her walk up the path and let herself inside. And also like yesterday, she turns at the last second to offer me a smile and a little wave.
Once she’s safely inside, I murmur “sweet dreams, Piper” into the air before driving away.
Despite our familiarity with one another, the silence that welcomes me home isn’t particularly welcome itself.
Dropping my keys into the bowl in the hall, I wince at the sound of metal against ceramic. Darkness has fallen; even the light on the back porch refuses to switch on when I step out there, so it looks like I’ll be spending tomorrow morning digging through the garage to find the spare bulbs.
I’m halfway up the stairs after staring blankly at the news for almost an hour when my phone pings. Patting my pockets, I realize it’s in my hoodie hanging by the front door. I’m surprised when the screen lights up at the touch of my thumb and it’s Piper’s name beside the little red 1 new message.
Forgot to tell you—dinner instead of brunch at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow in honor of Mom’s birthday. 6pm. We’ll be having your favorite dessert so you can’t say no xo – Piper
Huffing a chuckle, I shake my head and re-read the message a few times. Dinner with the Fitzgeralds. Knowing Bethany as well as I do, I’m aware there’s no chance of escaping this, especially as it’s her birthday. I’ve got a lot of things I need to get done tomorrow, and I very much doubt I’ll be in the mood for seeing people afterward.
You had me at ‘dessert.’ See you tomorrow.
After tossing my cell onto my bed, I head into the bathroom. Weirdly, it’s one of my favorite rooms in the whole house, even though, if I look closely enough, there are parts of it that make me feel sick.
The clawfoot tub with room for two screams at me from below the window overlooking the ocean. The his and hers sinks look ridiculous with only one set of toiletries sitting beside the his basin. My aftershave and deodorant have their spot beside the glass containing a single toothbrush and my toothpaste. My towel has the whole heated rack to itself, and the shelf in the walk-in shower is woefully empty with just my shower gel and shampoo to fill it.
The phantom scent of strawberry bubblegum shampoo fills the room, giggles ringing in my ears.
“More bubbles, more bubbles!”
By the time I’ve showered and taken care of business, thoughts of dinner with the Fitzgeralds are gone, but Piper’s response of a smiley face emoji and another ‘xo’ makes me laugh and brings it back to the forefront of my mind.
Dinner tomorrow may not be so bad, after all. The Fitzgeralds are good people, and I’ve heard enough about the only ones I haven’t met—Piper’s sons—to be expecting more of the same. For the first time in a long time, I’m actually looking forward to socializing.
Seven
Kellan
The n
ext day, I knock on the Fitzgeralds’ front door just as my watch beeps to tell me it’s 6 p.m. My eyes find the hand-painted ‘Fitzgerald’ plaque as I listen to the cacophony on the other side of the door.
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it!”
The ensuing thuds are, I assume, footsteps, although it sounds more like there’s an elephant stampeding down the hall than a child.
“Arlo Maxwell Fitzgerald, get back here. You don’t even have—”
The door flies opening, cutting Piper off. I bark a chuckle when my eyes drop from her frustrated frown to Arlo. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in person, though I have seen photos, but I’d know he’s Piper’s kid even if nobody told me.
Back when I first met Carson at In The Bay, Piper was seven. She had these long, brown, slightly curly locks and a gap-toothed grin I couldn’t forget if I tried; of course, it helps that Bethany gets the old photo albums out every time she has a few chardonnays in her. Arlo has those same curls, but slightly shorter and a dark blond instead of brown. His hang just past his ears in a wild mess he brushes away from his face as he peers up at me. I don’t know what Piper’s ex looks like, but I’d guess he has brown eyes and probably blond hair; Arlo inherited both. I can’t help but think it’s a shame he missed out on his mom’s unusual gray hue.
Perhaps more noticeable than his similarities to his mom is the fact that he’s sans pants, wearing only underwear and a t-shirt with the words ‘Chick Magnet’ printed across the front along with a magnet and a cartoon chick.
“Hi. You’re Kellan.”
“I am,” I chuckle. “Hey, buddy.” Crouching, I shake his hand when he holds it out in my direction. The feel of his tiny hand in mine puts a lump in my throat. Swallowing it, I manage a faint grin. “You must be Arlo?”
“Yep! Momma told me you make awesome burgers with funny names. I like burgers. And fries. Well, fries are my favorite, but I like burgers too.” Turning back to Piper, Arlo asks if I can come in.
Rolling her eyes with a fond little smirk, she nods. “He can come in. Now, you can come and put some pants on, please.”
As Arlo sighs before charging up the stairs using his hands to propel himself, Piper catches my gaze with a rueful smile. “He’s been excited to meet you all day. He can be a bit much until he calms down.”
“He’s great, Piper. Don’t worry.”
She relaxes and waves me in, and I’m happy I could put her at ease.
Stepping into the kitchen, my eyes are immediately drawn to the new picture hanging on the wall directly across from the entryway. The shadow box frames a family photo of all the Fitzgeralds, Carson and Bethany in the center with their kids and grandkids around them.
The picture is crammed full of smiles.
There are also a bunch of purple balloons over the doors leading outside, a selection of ‘Happy Birthday’ cards on the windowsills, and there was no missing the big banner out front with ‘Happy Birthday, Bethany!’ emblazoned across it.
“Oh, hey, KP.” Carson notices us, closing his laptop on the breakfast bar with a sigh before sliding off his stool and chugging the last of his beer.
“That kind of a day, huh?” I ask wryly as Bethany appears with a beer for me and another for her husband. “Thanks. Happy birthday, Beth.” She grins as I slip the usual envelope from the pocket of my cargo shorts and hand it over. Every year, we exchange the same gifts. I get her tickets to take Carson to whatever show she’s most interested in, and she gives me a free pass to use any of their hotels for my annual fall vacation when the restaurant is less busy.
Carson chuckles as she squeals and tells him she’ll start looking at theater programs soon, but his amusement dies as he rubs his beard and admits, “Afraid so, son. Supplier issues.” In response to Bethany’s withering look, he blows her a kiss and catches Arlo as he tears back into the room—this time, wearing pants. “But no work talk tonight. I promised.”
“C’mere a sec, kiddo.” Piper gently turns Arlo’s head, expertly wrangling his mane into a knot on top of his head before fastening it with a neon green band from her wrist. “There. Now you look semi-presentable.”
Flashing her a cheeky smirk, Arlo thanks his mom before turning to me. In his papa’s arms, I can see the family resemblance.
“Did you bring fries?”
“I didn’t, sorry, buddy,” I laugh. “Your nana makes better fries than me, though, and I think they might be on the menu tonight.”
“Ooh, did you make fries, Nana?”
“I did, sweetheart. Do you want to come help me finish them off?”
“Mom…” Piper warns. “He’s a klutz. Please, be—”
“Careful,” Bethany finishes for her with a wink. “I will, don’t worry. Come on, sweet boy.” She plucks Arlo from Carson’s arms and tells him he can be her sous chef.
“What’s a sous chef?”
As they disappear into the walk-in pantry, where Bethany keeps her appliance bar well stocked with every utensil and appliance on the market, she explains what a sous chef is to her inquisitive grandson.
Piper shakes her head. “He’s a walking accident about to happen, that kid.”
I smirk. “So he’s definitely your kid, then. No doubt about it if he’s inherited your ability to trip over air.”
She sticks her tongue out, but there’s no denial. As a kid, she almost always had a band-aid stuck somewhere on her body. “I’m not clumsy, the floor and furniture and general rest of the world just hated me as a kid. I’ve grown out of it now, thank God.”
Rubbing his jaw to hide a smile, Carson snorts. “You keep telling yourself that, honey.”
“What is this? Pick on Piper Day?” Piper sulks, her smile still threatening.
“Absolutely right!” Carson tells her with a grin as two more sets of loud footsteps tear into the kitchen, flip-flops clacking on the flagstones. Two grass-stained boys run in from the back yard with dirt smeared over their cheeks and curiosity grinding their feet to a halt.
“Who’re you?” One of them asks, cocking his head. The other boy—who looks exactly the damn same—tilts his head in the opposite direction. It’s uncanny just how identical they are, even though I’ve always known Piper’s two eldest are identical twins. Seeing them up close, there’s nothing at all to differentiate them apart from the dirt smeared all over them.
“This is our friend, Kellan Patterson,” Piper says, crouching between her sons with her arms around their shoulders. Tipping her head toward the twin on the left, the silent one, she introduces me. “Kellan, this is Finley.” Then she gently knocks her head against the other twin. “And this is Jaxson.”
“I’m the oldest by seven minutes,” Jaxson tells me frankly while Finley rolls his eyes. I get the feeling this is something Jaxson brings up a lot.
“At least I came out the right way ‘round.”
This time, it’s Piper rolling her eyes. “All right, boys. Kellan doesn’t need your whole birth story.”
“It’s true, though!” Finley protests.
Eyeing me with a mixture of apology and amusement, Piper explains that Jaxson was breech.
“Ah,” I mouth. “Got it. My nephew was, too. They had to do a C-section.”
“Thankfully, they didn’t get that far with these hooligans. Jaxson was just in a hurry, right, kiddo?”
Looking around, Jaxson frowns and asks where his nana is.
“Never you mind, nosy. Go get washed up ready for dinner, please. You, too, Finn.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” They take off in tandem, leaving their mom wearing a fond but long-suffering smile. I can’t help but laugh as their feet thunder up the stairs.
Carson chuckles from across the island. “Never a dull moment with those boys around, that’s for sure,” he says, pointing his beer in the direction the boys just went.
“I believe it.”
Perhaps naively, right now is the first time I’ve ever considered how difficult it must be for P
iper, raising three boys by herself. I don’t know how much involvement their father had when they were back in England, but out here, Piper is it. She’s all they’ve got. Carson and Bethany are around, obviously, as are Rosie, Everly, Sebastian, Gianna…etc…but as far as parents go, Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo are relying on their mom. From what I’ve seen already in the ten minutes I’ve been here, they’re all full of character, to boot.
My admiration for Piper only grows throughout the evening. The pleasant weather draws us out onto the patio where Everly, Rosie, Sebastian, Gianna, and Danny eventually join us. Bethany and Piper set out enough food to feed an army—or four growing boys and a bunch of adults, as it turns out.
“Just take a little and you can add more to your plate when you’re done,” Piper warns without looking away from the glass of water she’s pouring me.
“Thanks,” I murmur, grinning at the abashed looks on her sons’ faces. They each set down the serving spoons they were holding and tuck into the food on their plates with gusto.
Schooling a grimace, I pick out the pickles in my burger and set them on the edge of my plate. A burst of laughter drags my gaze up. Piper smirks and shakes her head. “You’re in good company, Finn. Kellan doesn’t like pickles, either.”
Finley’s face is all scrunched up as he holds a slice of pickle away from his face like it might bite him. “Jax, take it.”
Jaxson happily swipes his brother’s unwanted garnish before eyeing mine with hope. His face lights up when I offer him my plate so he can help himself. “Thanks!”
“They’re so gross,” Finley mumbles with a theatrical shudder that makes us all laugh. His cheeks flush and he slides down in his chair, apparently uncomfortable with the attention—which is something his little brother has no issues with whatsoever.
“Look, I’m a walrus!” Arlo stands up on his chair, stuffing French fries under his lips to look like tusks.
“Manners at the table, please,” Bethany warns, no heat in her tone at all as she fights a smile. Gianna cocks her head at Danny, and he quits before he can get fries all the way to his mouth to copy his cousin.
