“No, not at all. I didn’t always understand the things Grandma did.”
“No, me either.”
“I haven’t had a chance to go through all the boxes I found in Grandma’s closet. Maybe sometime you can come out here and we can go through them together.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Abby asked when you might be coming home for a visit. I got the impression she really wants to see you.”
“I’m…I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come home. My schedule is kind of hectic.”
Harper tamped down her disappointment. “I understand. Maybe I’ll come to you then. I’m going to need to shop for kitchen supplies and appliances soon, and you promised to help, remember?”
“I remember, but isn’t it a little premature to buy supplies when you don’t have a kitchen yet?”
Harper laughed. “Maybe a little, but you know me. Ms. Type A Personality.”
“Oh, yes. I know you well.” The amusement in Maggie’s voice was a welcome sound, but it quickly faded. “So Abby says she wants to see me?”
“Yes, she does. Very much.”
“How is she?”
“She’s okay. She had some surgery a couple of months ago that she’s still recovering from, but she seems to be in good spirits. She tires easily, though.”
“What kind of surgery?” There was a note of alarm in Maggie’s voice.
“I’m not sure. She didn’t volunteer the information, and it seemed too personal a question to ask.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Yes, I think so. In a lot of ways, she’s the same old Abby. She still has the same sense of humor.”
“That’s good.” Maggie sounded relieved. “I’ll definitely go shopping with you for supplies. And I’ll try to come out to the lodge, Harper. I really will.”
“That would be wonderful, honey! Just name the date.” Harper checked her watch. “I’ve got to go. I’m working the dinner shift at Miller’s tonight, and I’m running a little late.”
“You work too hard.”
“No harder than you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know about that. It was good talking to you. We’ll talk again soon, okay?”
“Yes, absolutely. Take care, Maggie.”
“You, too.”
Harper disconnected the call. The conversation with Maggie had been good. Maybe being more open with each other was what they needed to set their relationship on a more adult footing. Perhaps it would help them become closer. She prayed that would happen because she needed her sister, now more than ever.
She picked at the frayed edge of her shirt cuff. Perhaps if she’d been more open with Ethan they could have had a relationship, too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ethan knocked on the door just as Harper removed the lasagne from the oven, the cheese still bubbling. She tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Talk about perfect timing. I’ll let this cool for a few minutes and we can eat.”
He sniffed the air. “Lasagne? It smells fantastic, and I’m starved. I worked up an appetite today.”
“Oh, yeah? Doing what?” She threw the olive oil and lemon juice dressing she’d prepared earlier over the greens and began tossing the salad.
“Working with the guys on the lodge. Reese has me doing mostly grunt labor since I don’t have any carpentry or trade skills, but it feels good to get in there and get my hands dirty.”
Harper stopped tossing and turned to stare at him. “Seriously? I thought you were more of a numbers guy. I didn’t know you had any interest in the actual work.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Ethan broke eye contact and moved to the sink to wash his hands.
Harper resumed tossing the salad. He was right. There were a lot of things she didn’t know about him. If she looked closer, learned more, what would she find? If they were more open, maybe she’d find him even more desirable.
It was hard to imagine she could be any more attracted to him.
She conjured up a smile. “I guess there is. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think laborer was part of your job description.”
Ethan moved to the table and sat in his usual place. “It’s not, but it gives me a good perspective on what’s going on with the build. I can see the effort and the care that’s going into the renovation first hand. I think Reese and the crew respects me a little more because they see I’m willing to work.”
“I have to admit I’m impressed, too.” Harper cut the lasagne into several pieces and placed the pan on a trivet on the table. Oregano scented steam rose from the pan. “I appreciate you going above and beyond for this project.”
“It means a lot to me.”
She waited for him to elaborate, but instead he reached for the spatula she’d set next to the lasagne pan and helped himself to a piece. Harper passed him the salad and then dished herself a portion of lasagne. For a time, he was too busy eating to make more conversation. Why would this project mean more to him than other projects Hainstock Investments was involved with? She wanted to believe it had something to do with her, but she knew thoughts like that were ridiculous.
He was halfway through his second helping when Harper’s cell phone rang. She retrieved it from the kitchen counter and checked the call display. Her heart sank. “It’s Willy.”
She hit the talk button. “Hi, Willy. What’s going on?”
“I’m trying to be good, Harper, trying to do what you told me.”
His words were slurred and she could hear bar room music in the background. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Drunk again. “What are you talking about?”
“You said I shouldn’t drive after I’ve been drinking. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I’ve got to work tonight. Can you come get me, Harper?”
She should have known the order she’d given Willy would come back to bite her in the ass. “Fine. Where are you?”
“At Murphy’s in St. Cloud.”
“St. Cloud? What are you doing there?” The town was at least an hour and a half away.
“Came here for an auction sale today.”
“And of course, you had to stop at Murphy’s. Honestly, Willy, this is too much.”
“It’s ’sokay,” he slurred. “You don’t have to come. I’ll take the backroads home. No one will know.” He made a shushing sound.
No one but me. She couldn’t in good conscious let Willy get behind the wheel when she knew he’d been drinking. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t leave Murphy’s, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks Harper.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You and I are going to have a little talk when I see you.”
She disconnected the call with a furious jab and pulled her jacket from a peg near the door. “I’ve got to run. Willy’s drunk and I have to pick him up before he drives again. Can you put the food in the fridge?”
“I’m coming with you.”
As she shoved her arms into her jacket, she said, “You don’t have to do that.”
“Don’t argue with me, Harper. I’m not letting you go alone.”
Harper stared at him as he grabbed the lasagne pan and the salad bowl and stuffed them into the fridge. A minute later he was at the door, putting on his jacket.
“Since when do you get to boss me around?”
“Since you appointed yourself Willy’s chauffeur. He’s a drunk, Harper. That means he’s manipulative and unpredictable, and I’m not going to leave you alone with him.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve known Willy all my life.”
“Are we going to stand around arguing about this, or are we going to pick him up before he decides to drive himself home?”
She threw up her hands. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“We’ll take my truck.”
Harper considered arguing but decided that if he wanted to use his gas, it was fine with her. She followed him out of the cottage.
A short time later they were flyin
g down the Interstate toward St. Cloud. They were silent for several miles until Ethan finally started talking, his eyes on the road ahead. “If you get into the habit of picking Willy up and driving him home, he’s going to get into the habit of calling you every time he’s drunk.”
That possibility had occurred to her. “So, am I supposed to let him drive drunk?”
“No, but if you keep bailing him out, you’re enabling his drinking and his bad behavior. You’re allowing him to keep doing what he’s doing without any consequences.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. All she wanted was to keep Willy off the roads, but she could see his point. Harper turned toward him, hoping she wouldn’t overstep her bounds with her next question. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”
He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road. “Yes. My mother tried her best to cover up the fact that my father drank. She did his work for him, she lied for him, she picked him up when he was too drunk to drive. She did everything she possibly could to deny he was an alcoholic. But everything she did made it easier for him to drink. She might as well have held the whiskey to his lips and poured it down his throat.”
“And you think I’m doing the same with Willy?”
“You’re on the verge. I don’t want you to get sucked into his mess. I know your intentions are good, but things never work out the way an enabler wants them to. My mother enabled my father’s drinking until she was too sick with cancer to do it anymore. Without her, everything fell apart and we had no choice but to sell. In the end, my brother, sister and I were left with nothing, not even a family. We each went our own way to try to scratch out a living.”
“Despite all that, you’ve done well for yourself.”
“Have I?” He shook his head. “Alcoholism leaves all kinds of scars, some you can’t see.”
She hadn’t seen the scars. Until now. “He must have been a difficult person to live with.”
“He was difficult until the day he died. He got sick with liver disease a couple of years after mom died. My sister had a husband and kids by then, but she took him in and looked after him. My brother and I sent money to help her when we could. I stayed with him a few times to give her a rest, but my brother wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He blamed him for Mom’s death, but I think he saw too much of himself in the old man and it scared him.” There was anger evident in his voice and in the whitened knuckles gripping the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her again, his dark eyes flashing. “I didn’t tell you this story to make you feel sorry for me. I told you to help you realize you’re not doing Willy any favors by being his enabler. Willy is an addict, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to get his next drink, including using you. If you let him, he’ll drag you down with him.”
“So what am I supposed to do, Ethan? Am I supposed to abandon him? I’ve known him since childhood. He was someone I went to as a kid when things got tough. He helped me through some rough patches. How can I turn against him now?”
“All I know is that if you continue to play chauffeur for him, make excuses for him, he’ll keep telling himself he doesn’t have a problem. At least, that’s the way it worked in my family.”
Harper remained silent. The best thing she could do for Willy would be to convince him to get some help. The thought of cutting off her ties to him until he did so made her feel disloyal and ungrateful.
Within the hour they arrived at Murphy’s, a bar on the outskirts of St. Cloud. She’d never been inside, but with its fading paintjob and the burnt-out light in the Y of its sign, it looked tired and seedy. Of course, any bar that had Willy as part of its clientele wouldn’t be posh.
“I see Willy’s truck over there.” She pointed to the old green Ford half-ton parked close to the front door. “I’ll find Willy and drag him out of the bar.”
Ethan narrowed his eyes at her as he reached for his door handle. “As if I’m going to let you go into that place alone.”
Harper pursed her lips to keep a sharp retort from escaping. However annoyed she might be by his caveman attitude, she had to admit she was uneasy going into Murphy’s alone. “Suit yourself.”
They entered the bar. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she spotted Willy sitting alone at a table in the back, a drink in his hand. After getting Ethan’s attention, she led the way through the crowded room. The country music of a three-piece band set up in the corner of the bar blasted through the speakers, making conversation difficult. The place smelled of stale booze and unwashed bodies, and she couldn’t get out fast enough.
When they reached Willy’s table, Harper touched his arm and leaned forward to speak to him over the music. “Come on. Let’s go.”
He lifted his glass to his lips with a shaky hand. “Have to finish my drink first.”
“No, you don’t. If you want a ride home, get your ass out of your chair. Now.”
He blinked at her, surprised. She was pretty surprised herself. She rarely lost her temper with Willy, and she never swore at him, but he was pushing all her buttons tonight. He knew she was coming for him, yet he’d casually ordered another drink, and then expected her to wait while he drank it.
Willy downed his whiskey in one gulp and rose unsteadily to his feet.
A waitress hustled over to his table. “You’ve got to settle your tab, Willy.”
He fumbled in his pockets for some money and handed it to the waitress. She counted it and shook her head. “You’re five dollars short.”
Willy went through his pockets again. “Don’t have no more.” He turned to Harper. “Can you lend me a five?”
“Why did you let him run a tab?” Harper asked the waitress.
Before she could say anything, Ethan answered. “So he could drink more. He probably lost track of how much he drank or how much it cost.”
“That’s disgusting.” Harper dug in her purse and handed a five to the waitress. She didn’t know who she was angrier with; Willy, for drinking away all his money, or the bar for knowingly over-serving him. “Let’s get out of here.”
Willy leaned on her as they left the bar. After getting the keys from him, she helped him into the passenger seat of his truck and buckled him in. As she went to open the driver’s door, Ethan laid his hand on hers.
“I’ll be right behind you all the way. If he gives you any trouble, pull over.”
“He’s not going to give me any trouble.”
Even in the dim illumination from the light over the bar’s front door, she could see the intensity in his face and the flicker of anger in his eyes. “Damn it, Harper. Quit trying to handle everything on your own. Willy’s had a lot to drink and no matter how well you think you know him, he could be violent. Drunks are unpredictable.”
Had his father been violent? “I’m pretty sure Willy will sleep all the way home, but if anything happens, I’ll pull over.”
He nodded, then headed for his truck. Harper took a deep breath before opening the truck door and sliding behind the wheel.
As she predicted, Willy slept the entire drive back to Minnewasta. When she pulled in front of the office building he cleaned every night, she shook his arm. “Willy, we’re here.”
He groggily looked around. “This isn’t my house.”
“No, you said you had to work tonight. I brought you to the office building.”
Leaning against the headrest, he closed his eyes. “Too tired. Take me home.”
Harper stared at him. He was using her, sucking her into his downward spiral. They’d both crash and burn if she didn’t do something to stop the progress right now.
With her heart racing, she turned off the motor and pulled Willy’s keys from the ignition. As she opened her door and walked around the hood of the truck to the passenger side, she heard the door of Ethan’s truck slam shut. She wrenched open the passenger door and leaned over Willy to unbuckle his seat belt. “Get out. Now!”
Willy blinked
at her. “I’m too tired, Harper.”
“Too drunk, you mean. Get out and do your job.”
“I can’t. I’m too sick to work tonight.”
She stood next to the open door. Ethan stood a few feet away, his presence giving her added courage. “If you don’t work tonight, you’re admitting you’re too drunk to hold down a job. Is that what you want? To lose your job and admit you’re an alcoholic?”
“I’m not an alcoholic!” Willy swung his legs out of the truck and lowered himself to the ground. “I like to have a drink now and then, but I’m not an alcoholic.”
“Prove it. Get out of this truck and go do your job.”
She held her breath as he pushed himself to his feet. “I thought you were kind, like Miranda, but you’re a mean bitch. Not like my Miranda at all.”
His words cut deep into her heart, but she schooled her features to show no reaction. “I’m sorry you feel that way. When you’re ready to admit you have a problem with alcohol, I’ll get you some help.”
“I don’t need your help,” Willy spat. “I don’t need you at all. Leave me alone, bitch.”
Ethan stepped forward. “Watch your mouth, Willy, or I’ll plaster your face to the sidewalk.”
Harper put her hand on Ethan’s chest to stop his advance. “Don’t, please.”
He said nothing but continued to stare at Willy, as if ready to pound him into the dirt if he stepped out of line again. Harper took the truck key off the ring and handed the rest to Willy.
“I’m going to drive your truck home and park it in your driveway. I’ll leave the key in the glove compartment.”
He glared at her. “How am I supposed to get home?”
“You can walk. It’s only about a half-mile. Maybe the fresh air will sober you up.” She took a deep, calming breath. “When you’re ready to get some help, let me know. But until then, don’t call me or come to my place. If you call me looking for a ride again, I’ll phone the police and tell them you plan to drive drunk.”
“Go to hell, Harper. You’re no friend of mine.”
He turned unsteadily and headed to the office building. She watched as he fumbled with the keys, finally finding the right one and opening the door.
Lies and Solace Page 18
