At Wave's End: A Novel

by Patricia Perry Donovan

  PART 5: DISILLUSIONMENT

  47

  “‘NOTICE OF DEFAULT AND ELECTION TO SELL UNDER DEED OF TRUST. Unless you take action to protect your property it may be sold at public sale.’”

  Maeve could only bear to read aloud the first paragraph of the foreclosure flyer before setting it beside her on the hospital bed. “I give you both my word: I had no idea about any of this.”

  Maeve’s distress seemed authentic, Faith thought, eyeing the patient, but how much did they really know about this woman beyond her glossy, misleading magazine spread? Could she have colluded with someone, with Bruce even, in this million-dollar scam? “Is this why you held your contest?” Faith asked softly. “So you’d have money to pay off your debts?”

  “Faith! How can you accuse her of that?” Connie went to the head of Maeve’s bed in solidarity.

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but people have done crazier things.”

  “Well, Maeve’s not one of them.” Connie took the innkeeper’s hand. “I’m sorry about my daughter. She’s not the most trusting of souls.”

  “Honestly, can you blame me, Mom?” Faith crossed her arms, unable to resist the jab.

  “It’s all right,” Maeve said tearily. “You’re just trying to protect your mother. I saw that in you from the first day.” She pulled a tissue from a bedside box. “But I told you: I held that contest to find the best person to carry on with The Mermaid’s Purse after me.”

  “But how do you give away a property in foreclosure?”

  “Because I had no idea. Lenny assured me he had put all my business affairs in order.”

  “Who’s Lenny?” asked Faith.

  “Lenny Walker, Maeve’s accountant. I told you about him,” Connie said.

  “Oh, right, the guy in such a hurry for you to sign the transfer of ownership papers,” said Faith.

  “Lenny’s father Harold handled the inn’s business for years,” said Maeve. “Lenny took over the firm a few years ago. He assured me he deposited all the lottery proceeds. I just had to say the word once I chose the new Mermaid’s Purse owner.”

  “Maybe he missed a mortgage payment,” suggested Connie.

  “I’ve always paid my bills on time. And if one had been late, the bank would have contacted me, wouldn’t they have?” Maeve looked to each of them for confirmation.

  “I’m sure it’s just a bookkeeping slipup,” offered Connie.

  It could be a clerical error, Faith thought. But if this Lenny person handled Maeve’s financial affairs, he might have rerouted all the woman’s bank correspondence directly to his office, which would make it very simple to hide any shady dealings from his client.

  Maeve blew her nose noisily. “And what if it’s not a bookkeeping mistake? What if Lenny Walker has made an old fool of me?”

  And of my mother by association. The inn’s foreclosure might place Connie Sterling’s rightful ownership of The Mermaid’s Purse at risk, which would leave Connie with nothing. Meanwhile, the inn was filled with residents, with Maeve in no shape to tend to them.

  What a mess, Faith thought, massaging her lower lip. With weeks of recuperation still ahead of her, Maeve could not be counted on to deal with this crisis—a crisis that threatened her mother’s financial security. And based on Connie’s reckless choices regarding the inn, Faith didn’t trust her mother to see the matter through on her own.

  Someone had to address the situation and get to the bottom of what Faith sincerely hoped would turn out to be a gross misunderstanding.

  And that someone, Faith reluctantly realized, would have to be her.

  48

  OFFICE CLOSED DUE TO HURRICANE NADINE.

  STORM-RELATED CLIENTS GIVEN PRIORITY.

  PLEASE CALL FOR APPOINTMENT.

  “There’s been a storm, all right. A shit storm, and this guy’s smack in the middle of it.” Muttering, Faith jotted down the phone number from the sign taped to the locked door of the accountant’s office, although she harbored little hope of reaching him.

  Per Maeve’s instructions, mother and daughter had located the darkened office of Harold Walker and Son on the main street in Wave’s End, on the second story of a floor-coverings store.

  “Where do you suppose he is?” Connie asked.

  “If I had to guess . . .” Faith jumped a couple of times, hoping for a look through the transom window over Walker’s door. “I’d say he’s probably on a plane to the Cayman Islands. His office looks deserted. Cleaned out, even.” Fatigued, Faith leaned against the wall. “You met the guy, Mom. Did he say anything, do anything that might give us any clue where he was headed?”

  Connie thought a moment, then shook her head. “No, nothing. Other than rushing me to sign, no.”

  Downstairs, the carpeting store manager could only shrug. He hadn’t seen his tenant since before the storm.

  “What do we do now?” Connie asked outside the building.

  Faith crossed her arms as she stared up at Walker’s second-floor window. “We tell Maeve to find herself a new accountant. And a good lawyer.”

  “We should speak to Bruce,” suggested Connie as they pulled into the Mermaid’s Purse’s driveway.

  “Good idea. He might know something.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, Mom. Just that he seems to know an awful lot about what goes on around here.”

  “He’s a journalist, Faith. It’s his job to know what’s happening.” The two were out of the car now, making their way to the back porch.

  “Maybe, but don’t you think it’s a little odd he’s always hanging around?”

  “No, I don’t. I think it’s nice. Are you implying he’s involved in this somehow? My goodness. First you accused Maeve—”

  “I didn’t accuse her. I simply asked her a question.”

  “And now Bruce. I had no idea you had such a suspicious nature. As for Bruce, he happens to be a very thoughtful, helpful man. Did you know his mother and Maeve went to school together?”

  “No, I didn’t. But that doesn’t entitle him to her credit card.” Faith stopped and grabbed her mother’s arm. “Mom, forget about Bruce for a second. You do realize how serious this situation is, don’t you? That you may not actually own The Mermaid’s Purse?”

  “We don’t know that for sure.”

  “Maybe not, but we have to start thinking—”

  Before she could finish her thought, the back door opened and Roxanne emerged on the porch. “Oh. It’s only you two.” Roxanne’s shoulders slumped. “I was hoping it might be Gage coming back early.”

  “So you found him?” asked Faith.

  “Yes. He made it to a friend’s house and called his father from there. Mitch picked him up. Said he’ll bring him back for dinner. Which is just as well, since it gives me time to cool off.”

  “I’m glad to hear he’s safe,” Connie said.

  “Safe from my wrath, at least. How is Maeve? David told me where you went.”

  Faith and Connie glanced at each other. Other than a hurried mention to David that they needed to check on Maeve, mother and daughter had tacitly agreed to keep the foreclosure to themselves for now.

  “Coming along, but she still has a long way to go,” said Faith.

  “Oh, my gosh. I totally forgot.” Roxanne coiled her hair over one shoulder. “Speaking of a long way, someone’s inside to see you, Faith.”

  “Me? I barely know a soul in Wave’s End.” Curious, Faith hurried inside.

  49

  Faith blinked, flabbergasted. Standing in the Mermaid’s Purse’s front hall, a midsized designer suitcase at her feet, stood an unmistakably pregnant, extremely penitent Ellie, who promptly burst into tears at the sight of her friend.

  “You were right,” Ellie said, dashing over to throw her arms around Faith. “About everything. I am a selfish cow. And yes, feel free to say it. I’m quite literally a cow.” She glanced down at her belly, which clearly had popped in the short time since Faith had left Brooklyn.
>
  “You’re not. You look beautiful. Glowing.” Faith held her at arm’s length. “But what are you doing here?”

  “My dad’s driver brought me. I did a lot of thinking after we hung up this morning. And now I’ve come to make everything up to you.”

  “There’s nothing to make up. I said some pretty harsh things myself.” Twining her fingers in Ellie’s, Faith noticed that Ellie’s were bare. “Hey, where’s your engagement ring?”

  “My mother is holding it.”

  “Why? Are your fingers swelling?” Faith turned over Ellie’s hands, examining them.

  “My hands are fine.” Ellie cleared her throat. “It’s Dennis and me. We’re just . . . taking a break.”

  Faith dropped her friend’s hand and stared. “But you can’t! You just had a big misunderstanding. And you’re about to be parents.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Dennis will be there for the baby. We’re just having some trust issues at the moment. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Ellie forced a smile. “Please. I didn’t come here to talk about my problems. I want to make up for all my whining this morning. You reached out to me and I should have—”

  “Well, look who’s here!”

  Faith watched her mother and friend embrace in the dining room.

  “This is all so cool, Connie.” Ellie did a half turn in the hall, her hands in the air. “Is being an innkeeper everything you dreamed of?”

  “There’ve been . . . a few surprises,” Connie said, with a sideways glance at Faith. “But look at you!” Bustling around Ellie, Connie took the young woman’s hand. “All grown up and expecting a baby! How exciting is that? Why, the last time we saw each other, you girls were finishing college.”

  And what a visit that had been. Connie had met Ellie and her family only once, at a graduation lunch at Le Bernardin, everyone wilted after the hours-long awarding of diplomas on that sweltering May day. The two mothers could not have been more different.

  Having asked about Ellie’s parents in the inn’s dining room now, Connie listened sympathetically as Ellie related her family’s storm-related troubles, which involved their second home in the Hamptons. Thankfully, their third residence in Palm Beach was outside of the hurricane’s path. “Nadine certainly has stirred up a lot of heartache.” Connie shot Faith another meaningful look.

  “I know,” Ellie said. “Faith made me see that. Which is why I’m ready.” Ellie tugged her shirt down over her burgeoning belly.

  “Ready for what?” Faith asked.

  “Why, to help, silly,” Ellie said with smile. “You and Dennis claim I only ever think of myself, so I came down to The Mermaid’s Purse to prove you both wrong. I’ll do anything. Just put me to work.”

  50

  Excusing herself, Faith fled to the downstairs powder room to think. Since learning about her identity switch the day before, she’d been plotting a path back to New York as soon as feasible. But one event after another, the latest being Ellie’s arrival, conspired to tether her to The Mermaid’s Purse.

  One thing was certain: under no circumstances could Ellie stay. Her roommate had been sweet to come all the way to Wave’s End, but as much as Faith appreciated the gesture, Ellie needed to patch things up with Dennis.

  Besides, she seriously couldn’t think of a single task to assign her—at least nothing that wouldn’t require trailing after Ellie to ensure the job was completed correctly. Faith had done enough of that in their Brooklyn apartment; she didn’t have the luxury of time to do that in Wave’s End, especially with the added burden of investigating the foreclosure.

  Please let me be diplomatic, Faith beseeched her image in the tarnished mirror before returning to the dining room.

  “Oh, good. You’re back.” Ellie clapped her hands, a luminous smile lighting up her face. “Connie’s just been telling me about all the wonderful people staying here. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”

  “Listen, Ellie. About that. I really don’t have—” Staring at the floor, Faith searched for words that wouldn’t reduce her friend to a puddle of hormonal tears.

  “And who do we have here?” Ellie interrupted, leaning around Faith.

  Faith turned to see Fred lead Mona into the living room, Mona’s hand resting atop her husband’s like a minuet partner’s, a shawl-collar cardigan of Fred’s over her nightgown. Mona focused on something distant, her vacant stare a hallmark of her detachment from reality.

  “Hello. I’m Ellie.” She greeted the couple.

  Ignoring the young woman’s extended hand, Mona tilted her head, her gaze landing on Ellie’s bulging belly.

  “Yes, dear. She’s expecting,” Fred said. “Remember how much you love babies?”

  Trembling, Mona reached toward Ellie’s midsection. With a pang, Faith recalled the couple’s loss of their adult son.

  “Do you want to feel it?” Ellie asked. “It’s okay. Everybody wants to. Even strangers on the subway,” she giggled. “They don’t even ask first. Here, I’ll help you.” Ellie took Mona’s shaking hand and guided it to her abdomen. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

  Faith shook her hand in front of her mouth, a heads-up that Mona didn’t talk, so Ellie wouldn’t expect a response. But then, to her amazement, Mona did speak.

  “A baby.” Mona’s eyes blazed with joy as she addressed Ellie. “Such a wonderful blessing.”

  “Yes, it is.” Widening her eyes at Faith, Ellie shifted Mona’s hand to the other side of her stomach. “You feel this? This is his favorite spot to kick me.”

  “His? Since when did the Teletubby become a ‘he’?” Belatedly, Faith realized she had used her private name for Ellie’s pregnancy.

  “Since another sonogram this week. It’s a boy.” Ellie spoke softly, her hand still over Mona’s as the older woman massaged her stomach. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. Dennis and I got to see his ‘equipment.’”

  “Hello, baby boy,” Mona murmured.

  The women’s hands moved in tandem. Ellie’s eyes were closed, a half smile on her lips, Mona lost in a similar reverie, as though the pair had entered a private universe, with Ellie’s baby at the center.

  And suddenly, an idea came to Faith. If Ellie really, truly wanted to make herself useful at The Mermaid’s Purse, Faith knew a way her friend could contribute.

  51

  “My job’s no problem. I can work from here.” Ellie dismissed Faith’s worry with a wave of her hand as they kicked around Faith’s idea of Ellie becoming Mona’s secondary caretaker. Faith wanted to gauge Ellie’s willingness before speaking to Fred about the possibility.

  Fred’s wife reminded Ellie of her nana, who had experienced similar periods of disorientation, Ellie confided on the front porch, where they’d gone to speak privately. “She lived with us while I was in high school. I loved spending time with her. And I was good with her, Faith.” Ultimately, Ellie’s grandmother moved to a nursing home. “I’ll do my best to keep Mona safe. She’s lovely.”

  “And she certainly took to you. But she’s a bit unpredictable, too.” They would all need to be vigilant, she added, explaining about Mona’s spells.

  Relieved to have lined up some potential relief for Fred, Faith grabbed Ellie’s suitcase and led her friend to the last remaining room on the second floor.

  “Sorry, El, but all the en suites are taken. You’ll have to share a bath with my mother and me.”

  “No problem. It’ll be like old times in the dorm.” Ellie tested the edge of the four-poster bed.

  “True.” Laughing, Faith impulsively hugged her friend, the unpleasantness of their early-morning exchange evaporating as she realized how much Ellie’s unexpected appearance at The Mermaid’s Purse cheered her.

  Because if Faith had ever needed a friend to confide in, it was now.

  Due to the way the day unrolled, it was late afternoon before Faith began to throw together a supper of chicken potpies and salad for the evening’s nine diners, minus Gage—Fred and Mona, the Abbott sisters, Dav
id, Roxanne, Connie, Faith and the newly installed Ellie. While chicken breasts poached in a soak of broth, cream and sherry, Faith peeled, chopped and blanched root vegetables and whipped up a velvety béchamel.

  David came through as Faith assembled the piecrust dough on Maeve’s worn table. “Let me do that,” he said. He took her rolling pin and deftly flattened the dough, then twirled the floury round over his head.

  “Is that how they make a Caribbean pizza?” asked Faith, laughing.

  “Actually, I’ve been helping in a friend’s pizzeria since The Osprey closed. That’s why I got back so late last night.”

  “Will that be a regular thing?”

  “Doubt it. I did talk to a caterer who does a lot of craft service in the city. She needs someone to truck the stuff in there and serve it. It’ll be a lot of early mornings, but I need every penny if I’m ever going to open another restaurant.”

  “That sounds like a good start.” Faith took the dough from David and pressed it into a pie tin. “So, I heard you ran into Gage and Roxanne last night.”

  “Yup. That kid was in rough shape. I felt bad for the mom.”

  “So bad you had to use up all my breakfast ham and tomatoes?”

  “Your ham and tomatoes?” David crossed his arms. “Roxanne was a wreck over her kid, Faith. I was just being nice.”

  “I know, but we have a fair amount of people to feed here, and—”

  “Are you seriously giving me shit over some ham? I mean, I’ll go buy some right now if it’s such a big deal.”

  “No. Don’t be silly. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine.” Flustered, Faith turned away in search of a towel to wipe her hands. “I guess I can be a bit of a kitchen Nazi. I just like things to be there when I need them.”

  “And I like to be there when a human needs me.”

  Faith feared he was mocking her, but when she turned around, David’s gaze was earnest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “What you did for Roxanne and Gage was sweet. And speaking of Gage, I have an idea. I think you should take him surfing.”