No Secret Like Nantucket (A Sweet Island Inn Book 5)

by Grace Palmer

  “Grady and Alice are taking to you so well, and I just want to make sure your conversations with them are age-appropriate. You have real influence over them.”

  “That’s great,” Rob had said, grinning. “I want them to learn from my mistakes.”

  “That’s sweet, but they might not be ready for conversations about drugs.”

  “I don’t think we should shelter children from the harsh truths.” Rob spoke with all the confidence of someone who had never raised children of their own. “The more they know now, the less chance there is it’ll get ‘em into trouble down the road.”

  Pete, home for lunch, had the nerve to agree with his cousin.

  “Kids fall into that stuff when they don’t know the consequences,” Pete had said from the table, his work laptop open in front of him. “It’s never too early to start having these conversations.”

  “The kids don’t even ride the school bus yet. I don’t think hard drugs are on their radar,” Holly had mumbled.

  Nothing much improved over the days that followed. She worked hard to keep the kids busy, but Grady was full of questions.

  And dear cousin Rob seemed to have all the answers.

  “Is Uncle Rob going to live with us forever?” Grady asked on Thursday night as Holly pulled his dinosaur comforter up under his chin.

  “No, no, no. He’s only here for a little while. And he isn’t your uncle; he’s your cousin.” Holly frowned, trying to remember where Rob’s apple fell on the family tree. “Maybe even your second cousin. Or once removed.”

  Preferably further removed than that, she thought.

  “Can I stay home tomorrow? Uncle Rob said he’d teach me how to play poker.”

  “No way, kiddo. You’ll have all weekend to hang out with Rob,” Holly had said, knowing full well she was going to foist the kids on her mom and Dominic all day Saturday. Cousin Rob was not invited.

  But all that was in the past. Now, it was a Friday afternoon, approaching the second weekend Rob had spent in Holly’s living room.

  Under normal circumstances, it would be Holly’s favorite kind of day. The sun was high in the sky, yellow light filtered through fleecy white clouds. A soft northern wind was keeping things cool and bringing the smell of the ocean through the open windows.

  That was all well and good. Saltwater was preferable to the odor steaming off the pile of Rob’s dirty laundry in the corner.

  But despite the day’s cheery weather, Alice was sitting on the floor at Rob’s socked feet. She’d woken up with a slight fever, so Holly kept her home from camp. Grady had been beyond jealous.

  “Did you have to share a bathroom?” Alice was asking.

  Rob scrolled mindlessly on one of Pete’s old computers. Holly didn’t even want to think about what he could be doing on there. “Only with my cellmate. There was a toilet in our cell.”

  “A toilet? In your room?”

  “And a sink,” Rob said.

  Alice looked horrified. “Could you close the door?”

  “No. The guards wouldn’t have liked that.” Rob kicked a foot up onto the coffee table and scratched at his chin. “They had to keep an eye on us to make sure we weren’t getting into trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Holly jogged into the living room. “Do you want to go read some books, Alice?”

  “I’m coloring.” Alice held up a perfectly-sharpened colored pencil and a blank coloring sheet of a butterfly landing on a unicorn’s horn as proof. She’d been “coloring” for twenty minutes.

  “It’s a beautiful day outside. Why don’t you go find some caterpillars to put in the terrarium Uncle Brent bought you?”

  Usually, Holly needed only press a mason jar into Alice’s hand and her daughter would dart for the peony bushes that lined the fence. She’d hunt for bugs and critters until dinnertime.

  Before Alice could respond, Pete tromped into the kitchen through the garage door, phone pressed to his ear and his work laptop tucked under his arm.

  He’d promised the night before he’d be home early on Friday. Apparently, his work was coming home early, too.

  “…Of course, Mr. Thomas,” he was saying into the phone. “Like I said, I’ll have to look over the details again, but I think you have a solid case. Goodwin & Payne would love to take you on as a client. I’ll have my assistant call you on Monday to set up an in-person meeting.”

  Pete dropped his laptop on the gingham placemat on the table and pulled Holly in for a quick kiss on the cheek. She could hear Mr. Thomas’s muffled voice on the other end of the phone.

  “How’s it going?” Pete mouthed to her before he pressed the phone back to his ear. “Well, uh, sure, Mr. Thomas. I mean, you already have my email address, but I can send the fax number, too, if that’s easier for you.”

  Holly frowned and pointed to Alice and Rob in the living room. She wagged her brows, bobbed her head, jumped up and down—everything short of waving light-up traffic controller sticks—to help Pete understand how bad things were going.

  It had only been a week, but Holly felt like she was losing control of her house. The delicate system of rules and expectations she’d established since school had let out in May was under attack. She needed Pete’s help to rein the children back in.

  Pete followed her jabbing finger and pulled the phone away from his mouth, covering the speaker with his palm.

  Holly sagged with relief. It was nice to have someone else come home to do the laying down of the law. Pete would simply instruct Alice that she needed to go play outside, and then—

  Instead, he broke into a warm smile. “I love to see my family bonding. You two having fun in there?” he called over to Alice and Rob.

  Alice opened her mouth to respond, but when Rob gave a wordless thumbs up, Alice clammed up and followed his lead.

  Holly wanted to scream.

  Oblivious, Pete gave her an encouraging wink and sat down at the table to talk Mr. Thomas through the ins and outs of how to attach a photo to an email.

  Holly grimaced as she tossed the dish rag into the kitchen. The rag landed in the sink and sunk beneath the soapy surface of the water. She wished she could dive in after it.

  “Come on, Alice,” she said instead, biting the words out between her smiling lips. “We’re going outside.”

  Alice groaned. “But I’m coloring.”

  “Let’s color outside.” Holly snatched the plastic box of colored pencils off the floor and walked to the back door. When Alice didn’t follow after ten seconds, she snapped her fingers. “Let’s go.”

  Pete pressed a finger into his other ear melodramatically, brow furrowed as he tried to hear Mr. Thomas over Holly’s voice. As if she was talking that loudly.

  Alice crossed her arms and pouted for a few minutes in the backyard, but eventually, the sunshine and the promise of restocking her terrarium pushed away thoughts of Rob. At least temporarily.

  As they played, searching through the thick grass and foliage around the yard for the fuzziest caterpillars, Holly kept on eye on Pete through the dining room window.

  She could see him working at the table, hunched over his laptop. His phone was clamped tight to his ear on and off as he took calls.

  The moment she looked over and saw he’d walked away from his impromptu work station, Holly made her move.

  “I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” she said, kissing the top of Alice’s head. “If you search the milkweed by the spout, you may find some caterpillars that will turn into monarch butterflies.”

  Alice squealed and ran off towards the corner of the house, occupied for at least a few more minutes.

  When she walked into the kitchen, Pete was telling Rob about poor, technologically-challenged Mr. Thomas.

  “Can I talk to you?” Holly interrupted quietly, pointing to the laundry room off the kitchen.

  Pete took a long drink of his ice water and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “About what?”

  Holly’s jaw clenched t
ight. She shook her head and jerked her head toward the laundry room again.

  Puzzled, Pete followed her into the humid laundry room. As soon as they were inside, she slid the pocket door closed, trapping them in with the heat.

  “Can’t we leave the door open?” Pete panted, pulling at his shirt collar.

  “No, we can’t. Because in case you forgot, you let your cousin couch-surf with us, and I don’t want him to overhear.”

  In truth, Holly didn’t want to blame Pete for how badly things were going with Rob, but it was getting hard not to.

  Who else was there to blame?

  Sure, she could blame Rob. But blaming Rob felt like being mad at a puppy for chewing up an expensive leather shoe. Puppies will be puppies, after all. The true blame lies with whoever left their shoes within reach.

  In this case, the blame rested firmly on Pete’s shoulders. For throwing open their front door and letting a stranger into their house.

  “Things are getting out of hand, Pete,” Holly said, fighting to keep her voice level. She’d been pushing down so much frustration over the last seven days she was at risk of it all bubbling out at once. “Rob is a slob, for starters.”

  Pete rolled his eyes. Holly barely resisted the urge to grab him by the collar. “He’s a bachelor. Always has been, as far as I know. He doesn’t know how to clean to your standards.”

  “Okay, fine, whatever! I shouldn’t have led with that. His cleaning habits are the least of my worries,” Holly said. “He’s crass, too. He is teaching our children about drugs and prison tattoos.”

  “I thought we agreed it could be good for them to hear about some of this stuff.”

  “No, you and Rob agreed,” Holly said. “I think it’s ridiculous.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I did! And I’m saying it again now.” Holly sighed. “Rob doesn’t have any sense of personal boundaries. I caught him in our medicine cabinet. Do we even know what he was in prison for?”

  “I don’t think expired antibiotics and children’s fever pills are the stuff that fuels addictions,” Pete scoffed.

  He was treating this like a joke. Why couldn’t he see it how she did?

  he wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t a nag. This was a problem.

  So she threw out the nuclear option.

  “You don’t know what it’s been like because you’re never here.”

  Hurt flashed across Pete’s face. He recoiled back into the washing machine, and when he did speak, his voice was low and wounded. “I told you weeks ago that things would be crazy while Billy was gone on his cruise. You know this is temporary.”

  Pete had worked hard to balance work and life better and become more of a partner at home. Since starting the law firm with Billy, Pete spent more time with the kids, he cooked dinner at least one night per week, and he and Holly had even started making their way through the endless seasons of Grey’s Anatomy together.

  After all of that, talking about the time he spent at work could be a touchy subject.

  Holly gripped Pete’s elbow, wishing she could transfer her viewpoint into his brain. “Pete, honey, I’m not blaming you. And I understand. I just want you to understand that you haven’t seen what I’ve seen this last week.”

  Surely he’d seen enough to generate the appropriate reaction, though?

  Pete had been there for the street drug conversation. He’d even joked about the sudden locker room smell that had invaded their living room.

  But maybe it wasn’t enough.

  Pete hadn’t been home to see the way Grady threw his dirty socks on the living room floor next to Rob’s clothes instead of putting them in the hamper.

  Pete hadn’t been the one to fight with Alice about eating her cereal at the table because she wanted to eat breakfast in bed like “Uncle Rob.”

  All that was moot, though.

  Holly didn’t need Pete to be a witness to everything. She just needed him to listen to her. To care about it.

  “I’m not trying to kick Rob out, but I think you should talk to him.”

  “About what?” Pete asked, as though Holly hadn’t just laid it all out for him.

  “Tell him he needs to clean up his act a bit around the kids. And literally clean up his act in the living room. I don’t want to sit at my dining room table and see his dirty underwear sticking out of his suitcase.”

  “He doesn’t have much space in the guest room. The drawers are full of the kids’ old clothes. What do you expect him to do, Holly?”

  “Not throw his dirty clothes around my house!” Holly shouted, her frustration spilling over. She glanced at the door and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Just talk to him. Please.”

  “I think you should do it.”

  She snapped her head up, unsure she’d heard correctly. “You want me to talk to your cousin?”

  Pete shrugged. “Yeah. You are both adults. I think you can handle it between the two of you.”

  Holly gaped. “You’re joking.”

  Pete shook his head. “Like you said, I haven’t seen everything you’ve seen. You’ll be able to argue your point better than I will.”

  “It’s not a debate. I don’t want to ‘argue my point’ with Rob. I want to tell him how life is done in our house.”

  “And I’m sure Rob will hear you out.”

  Holly stared at her husband. “What if he doesn’t? I’m the one home alone with him most days, Pete. What if the conversation makes him angry?”

  That might’ve been unfair. So far, Rob hadn’t done anything to make Holly believe he was violent.

  But that didn’t mean he wasn’t.

  When Holly went to visit Eliza and Summer in the hospital, she’d taken the kids with her even though they’d had to sit in the waiting room while she went into the NICU. Not out of any hard evidence of danger. Just a gut feeling. A bone-deep fear.

  No matter how many times Rob offered to watch Grady and Alice, she couldn’t fathom leaving them alone with him.

  Pete frowned and raised his dark brows. “Are you seriously suggesting Rob might hurt you? Come on, Holly. Now, you’re going too far.”

  “Is it such an absurd idea? He was in prison. We don’t know what happened in there. You’re the one who said he isn’t the best with rules. Enforcing some could make him angry.”

  Pete scoffed, pressing his hands to his hips. “I’ve known Rob my whole life. He’s had a hard go of it, but he’s a good guy.”

  “He was a good guy,” Holly said, her voice low and harsh. “You haven’t seen him in over a decade. You don’t even know if he was married. We have no way of knowing if he’s dangerous or—”

  “Stop.” Pete held up a hand and shook his head. “I wouldn’t let Rob stay here if I thought he was dangerous. Whatever you may think, I wouldn’t put you and the kids at risk. I can’t believe you’d even accuse me of that.”

  Holly opened her mouth. And closed it.

  Trying to find the right words, but they kept slipping through her fingers like minnows.

  Pete could be too optimistic for his own good. He saw the best in people, which up until this very moment was something Holly had always appreciated about him.

  But it could also lead him to trust the wrong people.

  This was the perfect example of that. This was a problem. He needed to see that. He had to see that.

  “If you could just—”

  However, before she could finish her thought, Rob’s voice boomed through the house, slipping under the laundry room door.

  “Whoa, slugger. Who clocked you?”

  Holly and Pete looked at each other, brows furrowed in twin expressions of confusion.

  Then Pete slid the door open and stepped into the kitchen.

  Holly had to press a hand into Pete’s back to keep herself from running face-first into him when he stopped suddenly outside the door.

  “What the…” Pete’s voice trailed off.

  Holly grabbed her husband’s shoulde
rs and moved him aside when she realized he wasn’t going to move on his own.

  As soon as she did, she saw Grady. Since Alice was home sick, she’d called Robin Schmidt to see if she could bring Grady home. Her son Tim was in Grady’s class and at the same day camp.

  Grady stood between the kitchen sink and the island, his hands held loosely at his sides.

  There was a smear of dirt across his belly, like he’d been sliding on the ground, and a stain near his collar from the fruit juice she’d packed in his lunch.

  Another dark stain dotted the middle of his chest.

  Holly didn’t know what it was until she looked up and saw the waterfall of dried red blood dripping from her son’s nose down to his lip. It looked so red against his pale skin.

  Grady tried to talk, but his lip was split. He winced instead. His eyes went glassy, a sure sign he was about to cry.

  Then at last, he managed to mumble something. Holly had to strain to hear it. But the words were clear enough to make her heart drop.

  “I got into a fight.”

  17

  Eliza

  The Nantucket Cottage Hospital

  Two days after Summer was born, Dr. Geiger recommended removing the oxygen.

  Eliza watched it happen from behind the pane of glass. The tubes being carefully removed, the tape delicately peeled away. The first cry as her daughter’s lungs filled with sweet, sweet air.

  She felt like her own lungs were expanding. For the first time since her daughter was born, Eliza could breathe again.

  Two days after that, Summer was moved out of the NICU and into a standard recovery room.

  Eliza watched that happen, too. She tottered alongside Ginny as the team of nurses wheeled the sleeping infant down the hall. She kept a careful watch on her daughter’s face, ready to swoop in if Summer showed so much as an inkling of discomfort—C-section stitches be damned.

  She kept a brave face the whole time. But the truth was that Eliza was hurting, too. Heartache had a physical cost, and she was paying it in spades.

  So, as much as she tried to keep track of time passing, the exhaustion softened the edges of her reality. Days began to bleed and blend together.