Yours Since Yesterday

by Jennifer Bernard

  The entire boardwalk had a makeshift quality, from the stilts that held up the cantilevered wooden balconies to the ever-changing shape of the beach on the ocean side of the boardwalk. In the winter, storms and fierce winds battered the harbor and only the very hardiest ventured onto the ocean. Most of the businesses shut down—Last Chance Pizza included—and hoped that everything would survive until spring.

  She knew every inch of this boardwalk. Her entire adult life had been spent out here. She’d taken over Last Chance Pizza right after high school and never worked anywhere else. After Padric and his family left, the boardwalk and its constant tides of strangers had provided a haven for her.

  And now he was back.

  WTF?

  Why? For how long? Why hadn’t anyone warned her?

  For a long time, she’d wondered if everything that happened that day was punishment for them kissing. It had felt so innocent. Just two mouths touching; what was the big deal? But all hell had broken out after that. And even though she knew with her brain that her father and Annie Jeffers had been carrying on an affair for four months—long before the kiss—the timing had really messed her up.

  She darted across the road that traveled the length of the harbor, dividing the boardwalk into an ocean and a harbor side. Last Chance Pizza was situated on the ocean side, perched on the boardwalk like an old ship about to set sail. Weathered sage-green paint, white trim and a hand-carved wooden sign hanging from iron chains added to the overall maritime effect. With that prime location, Last Chance offered customers a stunning view of the long sweep of the beach, as well as Misty Bay and, on the other side of the bay, Lost Souls Wilderness.

  They often had lines winding down the planks of the boardwalk, to the great annoyance of their neighbors, a native arts craft shop and a fish-cleaning station for the charter boats. But right now, only a few people clustered around the front door—thankfully.

  Zoe was rattled. Seriously rattled. She’d stopped assuming that she would ever see Padric Jeffers again. And she’d been okay with that.

  This—him reappearing so suddenly—this, she was not okay with.

  Her twin sisters, Monica and Alexis, started talking as soon as she pushed through the door.

  “Where have you been? You said you’d only be gone a second and we have stuff to do. Like, important stuff.” Monica untied her apron and tossed it on the dishwashing table. She was the dramatic one of the two, although both had their moments.

  “Seriously important stuff that we can’t talk about yet,” added Alexis as she punched numbers into the cash register to ring someone up. “It’s about the beach festival.”

  The two of them were planning a music festival for Labor Day weekend. They were calling it “Last Chance to Rock.” It was safe to say they’d had no idea how much work it would be.

  Zoe hurried to the floury counter where the pizzas were assembled. Several order slips hung from clothespins on a line overhead. “One of you has to stay,” she told the twins. “I can’t take orders and make pizza.”

  “But—”

  “No sense in arguing about it. It’s simple math.” She scattered sausage over a pie that Monica had abandoned halfway through. “Alexis, you stay, since we don’t have anyone for the counter. Monica, you can handle the incredibly, seriously important thing on your own, right?”

  A tragic expression of outrage crossed her sister’s face. “It’s not as fun alone.”

  “It’s good for you to do things separately sometimes.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says your big sister who you should listen to.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “Then tell me why it’s such a good thing.”

  “Because everyone has to learn how to be alone at some point.” That sounded so dire and lonely that even she winced. “You know what I mean.”

  “Zoe, if I ever want lessons in how to be alone, I know where to turn.” Monica’s sassy tone made Zoe itch to fling shredded cheese at her. Instead, she added it to the pizza. After sliding a paddle under the pie, she thrust it into the wood-fired brick oven that her parents had trucked all the way from Rhode Island.

  “One of you stays,” she said firmly. Don’t take the bait, that was the trick with the twins. If you got down to their level, all kinds of drama would ensue.

  The door opened—the cowbell jangled—and Yanni, one of the fishing old-timers, came in. “Looks like we got a celebrity in the harbor,” he announced as he slid onto one of the stools at the counter.

  Most tourists took their pizzas to the glassed-in deck, where they could enjoy the views at tables draped with cheerful anchor-print tablecloths. The locals, on the other hand, had no need for more scenery and preferred the counter, where they could gossip as they waited for their pizza.

  Zoe’s body went tense. On autopilot, she continued to build the backlog of pizzas that Monica hadn’t gotten to. Was it possible that the news about Padric had already spread? How?

  Monica and Alexis danced with excitement. “Who? Who? Ohmigod, who?” They were always bursting with energy. Sometimes Zoe wished they’d have a morose phase just for some peace and quiet.

  “Padric Jeffers is back. Sailed right into the harbor as if he wasn’t a world-famous rock star.”

  “Padric Jeffers is here?” Monica clapped a hand over her mouth, and Alexis gave a little shriek.

  Then they both swung their gazes toward Zoe, as if waiting for her head to explode. She scowled at them and focused on the pizza she was crafting. They’d been barely more than newborns when Padric had left, but apparently they knew the gossip just like everyone else in Lost Harbor.

  “You two seem awfully excited. I didn’t know you liked angst rock.”

  “There’s a lot more to him than that,” Alexis corrected her. “Grownups just don’t get it.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “He’s the same age as me.”

  “Is he?” Alexis blinked at her innocently. “You seem so much older.”

  Zoe pretended to threaten her with a roll of pepperoni. Then something occurred to her. Padric being back—there were complications to that, things she needed to warn the twins about.

  “Come over here, you two. I have to talk to you both.” She beckoned to them, creating a cloud of flour in the air, almost like a smoke ring. They clustered into the cooking area, being careful not to get too close to the brick oven, which radiated heat.

  “What’s up, Zoe? Aren’t you feeling well?” Monica’s expression was entirely too concerned. If her imp of a sister was assuming she was going to fall apart because Padric was back, she had it all wrong.

  “I’m perfectly fine. But Mama cannot find out about Padric. Seriously, not a word. You don’t remember what the Scandal was like. She will flip out if she knows a member of the Jeffers family is here.”

  “She’s probably going to hear it from someone,” said Alexis, wide-eyed. “Like at stitch-and-bitch”—referring to a group of local knitters and crocheters.

  “No, she’s been skipping stitch-and-bitch. She’s been sticking close to home and we need to make sure she keeps that up until Padric leaves. She cannot find out he’s here. Promise me.”

  They nodded, although Monica wore a rebellious frown. “But the Scandal was so long ago.”

  “No no no, oh naïve one. Do you know nothing about the Bellini family? Mama is still upset about the British taking all the Greek sculptures out of the Parthenon. Something that happened fifteen years ago? Forget it. That’s like yesterday to her. If she finds out he’s here, it will be the freakout to end all freakouts. She cannot know, or our lives will become miserable. You understand?”

  The twins nodded more seriously this time.

  “Okay. Go, Monica, do whatever it is you were planning.”

  The twins exchanged a cautious look—the kind filled with communications only they could interpret.

  “Actually, I’ll stick around. I have a feeling it’s about to get busy.”

  “Great.” Zoe beamed at Monica. M
aybe her sisters were finally starting to become more responsible.

  Alexis went to take an order and Zoe got to work on the next pizza. The normal chatter of a busy lunch crowd took over, and Zoe could almost pretend that everything was back to normal.

  Yeah, right. Nothing would be normal until she found out what Padric was doing here and, more importantly, when he’d be gone again.

  Chapter Two

  Well, that definitely had not gone the way he’d expected. Padric steered the speedboat he’d rented in Aurora Bay into the temporary guest tie-up spot. He’d taken the long way to Lost Harbor—flown into Anchorage, then hired a helicopter to take him to Aurora Bay, then rented the Jaunty for the cruise to Lost Harbor.

  Dodging paparazzi could be a full-time job sometimes, but it was worth it. He hadn’t wanted to show up in Lost Harbor like an asshole with cameras trailing behind him. If they tracked him down, so be it, he’d deal with it then. But at least he had a head start.

  As his boat nudged up against the float, he caught sight of someone running down the ramp. For a moment, he hoped it was Zoe, changing her mind about that cold shoulder she was giving him. He was here for her, after all.

  Of course, she’d had no clue that he was coming. Maybe that explained her strange reaction. He hadn’t expected her to flee at the sight of him.

  He also hadn’t expected her to look like…that. Like a stunning goddamn oil painting from Italy or something. She’d always been the kind of girl you couldn’t look away from—or at least he couldn’t. But her features had never quite fit right in her face—eyebrows too dark, nose too big, mouth too full, everything competing for attention. But now it all harmonized perfectly—beautifully.

  Zoe was beautiful.

  And just as proud as ever, judging by the tilt of her head as she’d watched him cruise in. She wasn’t his awkward best friend anymore. Not awkward, and obviously not his best friend. She hadn’t even smiled at him before she ran up the ramp.

  But no, the new arrival wasn’t Zoe coming back to say a proper hello. It was Nate Prudhoe, who reached the slip at a jog just as Padric turned off the engine.

  “Nice timing,” Padric told his old friend as he tossed him a line. Nate ran it around the cleat.

  “It took exactly thirty seconds for word to get out,” Nate said in his laughing way. “I figured you might need some backup. No entourage, no security, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking Lost Harbor doesn’t give a shit about all that. Besides, who needs an entourage when I have you?”

  He stepped off the boat and pulled Nate in for a hug. Padric didn’t believe in man-hugs. With people he cared about, he went for the real thing.

  “It’s good to see you, man,” said Nate, pounding his back. Nate was such a good guy—one of the all-around greats, and Padric had met a lot of people in his career. “Do you have bags? Where are you staying? You can crash on my floor if you want. Just like old times.”

  “Just one bag.” He hopped back into the boat to grab his travel bag from under the bench. While he was there, he snagged a wide-brimmed fishing hat and his sunglasses. With those two items, he would look like any other visitor to the harbor.

  But maybe not, judging by Nate’s crossed arms and out-loud laugh. “You’re not fooling anyone, superstar.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Padric shouldered the bag and stepped back onto the float. The familiar harbor smells—fish guts, diesel, salt breeze—took him right back to his earliest days. His father had been a commercial fisherman, mostly salmon but some other varieties. Padric had helped out on the boat from the time he could haul in a net. He hadn’t always loved it; it was boring and often cold and uncomfortable. His favorite part had been the slow times when he could watch the ocean and let images flow through his mind.

  With the Jaunty secured, he and Nate walked up the ramp toward the boardwalk, which was much busier than Padric remembered. “How’ve you been, Nate? Haven’t seen you since—where was that?”

  “Houston. Great show.”

  “Thanks for coming. It was good to see a friend there.” Padric noticed that Nate hadn’t answered the first question. “You still with that girl, um…” The hell if he could remember her name, but the three of them had gone out for drinks after the show. He and Nate had spent the whole evening reminiscing about Lost Harbor, and he’d felt bad for…um…

  Nate laughed. “Don’t work too hard on her name. We broke up. But for your records, it’s Mary Lou.”

  “Mary Lou. Right. Sorry, dude. You seemed like you had a pretty good thing going.”

  Nate shrugged lightly. “Things come and go, know what I mean?”

  They reached the busy boardwalk, which was constructed with weathered planks that needed repairs every spring. A fresh white railing extended the entire mile-length of the boardwalk; both he and Nate had spent many hours volunteering with paint brushes every spring. Lost Harbor was an all-hands-on-deck kind of place.

  “Business looks pretty good, I’ll say that. I don’t remember this place being so crowded.”

  “An article came out a few years ago in Sunset Magazine. They called us a hidden gem. Things haven’t been the same since. Did you catch our Trekking episode a few weeks ago? That brought another wave.”

  “Missed that one.” They ambled along the boardwalk, past kids with ice cream cones and tourists taking selfies with picturesque “bear-viewing” storefronts. The knot in Nate’s stomach loosened just a bit. Being back wasn’t…terrible.

  “You gotta check it out. Zoe was in it.” Nate shot Padric a curious glance. “Still an off-limits topic?”

  “Nah. Actually, she’s the reason I’m here. How’s she doing?”

  Nate dodged a kid on a skateboard. “Busy. That pizza place is a gold mine these days. She’s training up her kid sisters to take some of the load off.”

  Huh. No mention of any health issues. Maybe Zoe’s condition wasn’t common knowledge yet.

  He’d better not reveal anything—it wasn’t his secret to share, after all.

  “Do people still talk about…”

  “The Scandal? Nah, not really. There’ve been several dozen scandals since then. Occasionally it comes up, because the Jeffers name is all over this town. And because you’re, you know…you.”

  Padric cringed a bit inside. As an intrinsically introverted person, the spotlight aspect of being a singer always made him uncomfortable. Yeah, he’d gotten used to it. And it was a small price to pay for making his living as a recording artist. But it didn’t come naturally to him.

  “So anyway, you never said where you’re staying.”

  “I was thinking I’d try out that candy-ass new hotel they built.”

  “New? You mean the one that’s been here fourteen years?”

  “New to me. I watched them frame it up that last summer I was here. Always wondered how it would turn out.”

  “Overpriced and overhyped. There, I saved you the trouble.” Nate grinned at him.

  God, it was good to see him. Nate was a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. Loyal, solid, unpretentious, funny, good-hearted.

  “Well, I figure I’ll pump as much money into the local economy as I can.”

  “No one’s going to argue with that.”

  A gap between two shingled buildings offered a glimpse of the road and the businesses on the other side. Which happened to include Last Chance Pizza. As usual, a line of customers clustered outside the front door. A chilly breeze cut across the bay, causing them to zip up their fleece jackets and tuck their hands in their pockets.

  Padric couldn’t help searching for a glimpse of Zoe. Steam fogged the picture window, with its view of the brick oven and the kitchen area. The painted words “Pizza,” “Salad,” “Wine and beer” got in the way too. But even so, he spotted Zoe’s dark head bent over her work. She wore an orange bandanna that kept her curly hair in a wild pile on top of her head.

  Then his view vanished when he tripped over the back wheel of someone’s cr
uiser bike. He nearly took a header right onto the weathered planks.

  “You okay there, man?” Nate grabbed his arm. “Wouldn’t want to you to break a tooth, not to mention ten million teenage hearts.”

  “Cute.” Padric regained his balance and adjusted his fishing hat, which had gone askew. “I’m good. Come on, let’s get out of here.” His little mishap had captured the attention of a few onlookers. If they looked too closely, he might be busted.

  “Yeah, can’t gawk at Zoe Bellini forever. Let’s book.”

  “I wasn’t—” But Nate was already a few steps ahead, charging through the mill of tourists like the first responder he was.

  Whatever. Face it, he had been gawking. But who could blame him? Zoe had grown up…just…beyond his imagination, and he had a really good imagination.

  They walked the rest of the way to the Eagle’s Nest Resort and Hotel. Apparently the fact that the place had Jacuzzis meant they could call it a resort, because beyond that, it didn’t resemble any of the high-end places Padric had stayed over the years.

  The desk clerk didn’t blink at the cash Padric offered for his suite, or at the name he provided. Gavin Strike happened to be his security guy. They had a name-sharing arrangement for those times when Padric wanted maximum anonymity.

  It was probably pointless here in Lost Harbor, but in case any paparazzi were trying to pry names out of hotel clerks, he had a small layer of protection.

  Nate whistled as they walked into the “Admiral Suite,” which occupied the top ocean-side corner of the four-story complex. “Million-dollar view. Almost as good as mine.”

  “Nothing’s as good as yours. But this ain’t bad.”

  Nate had bought his parents’ home from them after they’d retired to Arizona. It perched on a high bluff with a literal three-hundred-sixty-degree view.