“I can’t come back here.” He said it through clenched teeth as he stuffed a t-shirt into his travel bag. “And you both know why, so don’t fuck with me.”
“Are you talking about Mrs. Bellini?” Nate followed him across the room as he searched for more stuff to pack. “Sure, she’s a little high-strung. But you can’t let her scare you off.”
“I can’t let her scare me off? She had a stroke! I’m not afraid of her. I’m afraid of hurting her. Do you see the difference there?”
“I do,” Ethan volunteered from across the room. “Bad guys are one thing. Injured moms are a whole other thing.”
Padric pointed his index finger at Ethan. “Exactly. What he said.”
“So let me try to understand here. You love Zoe. Zoe loves you. But she freaked out because her mom is in the hospital, and so you’re just going to leave.”
“Yes,” Padric said firmly, using his shoulders to shove Nate to the side on his way to the bedroom.
“As a first responder, I’ve seen a lot of people in hospitals, in emergencies and so forth. They all have one thing in common. They’re not thinking clearly.”
Padric hesitated over the drawer into which he’d very optimistically unpacked his clothes. “She seemed pretty clear to me.”
“You’re not going to fight for Zoe, then?” Nate planted his hands on his hips.
“I can’t fight her mother.” Why wasn’t Nate getting this? “Zoe is thirty years old. She’s made her decision. And the thing is, I get it. What kind of life would she have trailing around after me?”
“What kind of life are you going to have without each other?”
“We’ll manage. We did before. I’ll write sad songs, she’ll take care of everyone except—” The prospect was so bleak after the joy of being with Zoe that he cut himself off. He wheeled around and held out his hand to Nate. “Who’s the winner? I’ll take care of it before I leave town.”
Nate ripped out a page from the notebook and passed it to him.
Padric read it quickly and let out a bitter laugh. “No. Not happening. You have got to be kidding.”
“Come on. The twins pooled all their money, and Zoe matched everything they made. They also spent the entire auction begging and pleading with everyone else not to outbid them. It was shameless.”
“Fine. I’ll give them a call. Maybe they can record it for their festival, since I won’t be here by then.”
“That’s between you and them. I did my part.” Nate flung up his hands and backed away as Padric passed him on the way to the living room. Ethan stood near the balcony taking photos of the view. A brisk wind was whipping up whitecaps on the surface of the bay. Seas were at least six feet, with a strong northeast swell.
So much for leaving today. He certainly couldn’t take the boat out in those conditions. He’d have to wait at least until tomorrow.
With a little salute, Nate headed out the door. “I’m not saying goodbye because I’m in denial.”
“Goodbye,” Padric called after him.
Ethan pocketed his phone. “I found a ride to Anchorage, but are you sure you don’t need me to stick around? We never caught the baking soda villain.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’ll be gone soon enough. The dude got what he wanted—I’m leaving. I brought you in because I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, that’s all.”
“Okay, tough guy. You got my number if you need me again.”
They hugged briefly, then Ethan left, too.
Padric stood alone in his hotel room. He could practically hear Nate teasing him about his missing “entourage.”
He’d take Nate and Ethan over an entourage any day. They cared about him as a person, not just as a product. Soon he’d be back in that other world in which the only piece of him that mattered was his ability to please crowds and make money for people.
He looked down at the piece of paper that held the names Monica and Alexis Bellini, and the amount they’d bid—five thousand three hundred and seventy dollars. If Zoe had kicked in half, they’d still contributed over twenty-five hundred dollars. That was a lot of tips, and scrimping and saving.
He dug out his phone and dialed Monica’s number. “Can we meet? We need to talk about your auction prize. Are you at the Last Chance?”
She was. He told her he was on his way, and ended the call.
The Bellini women were nothing but trouble.
God, he was going to miss them.
He had a plan for dealing with the serenade worked out by the time he reached the Last Chance. The only reason he was okay with dropping by was that he knew Zoe was either at home or at the hospital. He had no desire for another painful encounter with Zoe right now.
Even walking into the Last Chance made his heart ache. The warm interior, with its tiled brick oven and colorful touches—a ceramic rooster, a mirror in the shape of a golden sun, even the purple chalk on the menu blackboard—it all radiated with the spirit of Zoe. The fragrance of baking pizza crust and oregano-spiked tomato sauce nearly brought tears to his eyes.
He steeled himself and leaned over the work counter, where the twins were bickering over how many olives was too many.
“Your five-thousand-dollar man, reporting for duty,” he said.
They looked up with identical eager expressions. Alexis told her sister, “You talk to him, Monica, I’ll finish the pizzas.”
“Done. No more than ten olives, though.”
“Monica!”
Ignoring her sister’s annoyed protest, Monica skipped around the counter and took Padric’s hand. She dragged him to a relatively empty corner of the glassed-in terrace and sat him down at a table. “First of all, you’re worth a lot more than five-thousand dollars, but we were on a budget.”
“I heard. Nate said you tried to keep the bids down. Kind of defeats the purpose of raising money for the fire department.”
“I know.” A fleeting expression of guilt crossed the girl’s face. “We didn’t really think about that.”
Her resemblance to Zoe made it hard for him to look at her, and he glanced out at the foam-flecked bay.
“Never mind. I’ll write the department a check. That’s what I do these days. Write checks. So how are we going to work this? I need to get back to my tour, so I won’t be here for the festival. I know that’s when you want me to perform. I have a couple ideas. We can prerecord, or I can try to set up a live video—”
He broke off because Monica was shaking her head to all those suggestions.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t break away from the tour to come back here. It’s a very tightly packed schedule and—”
“No, that’s not it. You’ve got it all wrong. We don’t want you to sing at the festival. I mean, we do. Of course. But that’s not why we bid on you.”
He frowned at her, utterly confused. “So who do you want me to sing to?” A horrifying thought occurred to him. “Not Zoe. No. Bad idea.”
“Not Zoe. Duh, you probably already sang to her.”
A memory hit him—her eyes shining through the steam rising from the hot tub as he hummed along with “Forest.”
“Before we tell you, you have to understand this is for you and Zoe, because you’re obviously perfect for each other, and she’s a lot nicer when you’re around,” Monica explained.
“I’m confused. Who do you want me to sing to?”
Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine who else they would want him to sing to. A boy one of them liked? A teacher they were trying to bribe? A friend they wanted to impress?
The answer, when it came, couldn’t have shocked him more.
“Mama. We want you to serenade Mama.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“We’ve decided to keep your mom here a few more days so we can monitor her more closely.” Dr. Morrison wrote something on her clipboard and handed it to Zoe.
“A prescription?” She squinted at the piece of paper. The doctor had caught her fast asleep, head resting on her forearms
, splayed across her mother’s hospital bed. Hair stuck to her sweaty cheek.
“You look like you could use some rest. This might help. Don’t worry, it’s a simple sleep aid, over the counter. I’m not breaking any rules.”
She handed it back to her. “I’m good. I probably look like crap, but really, I’m fine.” What ailed her couldn’t be fixed by a prescription, anyway. A deep sadness had settled into her heart, as if etching it with permanent ink. Padric was probably gone by now. But even if he was still in town, she’d never see him again.
“You should listen to the nice doctor.”
Her head shot up at the sound of her oldest brother’s voice.
“Theo!” She jumped to her feet and rushed to give him a hug. “You came early!”
“Well yeah. Mama had a stroke. Why wouldn’t I come early?” He set her back on her feet and scanned her, head to toe. “Yeah, you need a break, girlie.”
She gave him a weary smile. He was so tall and broad and grinning, energy vibrating from every dark curl and corded muscle. But she detected the sadness lurking in his eyes, too. Word had it that he hadn’t wanted the divorce, but she didn’t know all the details yet. “I’m fine. This is what the end of the season looks like.”
He ruffled her hair in that way that she’d always secretly liked but loudly protested, then walked to Mama’s bedside. “How is she doing?”
Bethany Morrison, who looked slightly stunned by the mountain of masculinity that was Theo, cleared her throat. “She’s still very tired. She’s been sleeping a lot and her vitals aren’t quite where we like to see them. But overall, she’s doing well.”
Theo picked up her wrinkled hand and stroked it. “Oh, Mama. Looking good, beautiful.”
Zoe smiled at the phrase he always used with her, the one that made her giggle like a kid and shoo him away. “Suck-up,” she teased.
“Come on now, you don’t want to get on my bad side. I’m here to rescue you.”
“What are you talking about?” She pried a lock of hair off her cheek. She must really look like shit if everyone was talking prescriptions and rescue ops.
“Mama’s going to be here a few more days, right?” Theo turned to the doctor for confirmation. She nodded. “So this is the time for you to take a break. After she goes home, she’ll need you. But here, she’s got this fine doctor and the rest of the hospital staff.”
“But I have to get the house ready—”
“Do you see these muscles?” Theo flexed his biceps, bodybuilder style, dropping a kiss on each one. “You were probably going to hire a carpenter. I can take care of that.”
“But the pizza shop—”
“We’ll cut back the hours. I’ll supervise the twins. We’ll make it work. Come on, Zoe. You’ve been slamming all summer, like always. And now you’re going to have your hands full with Mama. Take the offer.”
Dr. Morrison finally found her voice and chimed in. “I recommend it. Caretaker burnout is real.”
Caretaker burnout. Zoe skimmed her fingers through her hair to untangle it. That was what she was going to be from now on. A caretaker. A pizza maker. A surrogate parent. A wannabe artist. A lonelyheart.
Ugh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. She rolled her shoulders to get the kinks out. “I suppose I could do with a break, even if all I do is go home and sleep.”
“No.” Theo shook his head firmly. “You need to get out of town. If you’re here, everyone will want something. The twins, the shop. Me. Think, Zoe. Isn’t there somewhere outside of Lost Harbor where you want to go?”
She stared at him for a long moment. The email from the Far North Arts Foundation flashed through her mind. She still couldn’t accept, but maybe she could do the next best thing.
“I gotta go,” she said abruptly. “Thank you, Theo.” On her way past him, she stood on tiptoe to drop a kiss on his stubbled jaw. “You’re a good brother. I’ll try to be back before Mama gets discharged.”
“Wow, I thought I was going to work a lot harder to talk you into this,” he teased her as she practically flew out the door.
“Sorry to disappoint. Give Mama a hug from me when she wakes up. And tell the twins what’s going on!”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I got this.”
Back home, she carefully packed up a bin of her favorite figurines, wrapping each one in several layers of bubble wrap. She threw a few outfits into a bag, grabbed her purse, and headed for the airport. She thought about notifying the twins, but didn’t want anything to get in the way of her trajectory. Achieving escape velocity out of Lost Harbor could be a real challenge.
At the tiny Lost Harbor airport, she bought a ticket for the next flight out and spent the wait time booking the rest of the trip. Anchorage to Banff didn’t come cheap, but she had lots of miles accrued on the credit card she used to order for the Last Chance.
The Last Chance. This was it. Her last chance to do something that wasn’t pizza. Her last chance to take a brief, glorious flight outside of Lost Harbor. Her last chance at a taste of freedom before the realities of her life closed in around her.
Padric had to wait until the next day’s visiting hours at the hospital to fulfill his debt to the twins. They picked him up in their car—a beat-up gold Toyota—in the morning. The hospital was built snug up against a hillside on the other side of town, which gave him plenty of time to try to talk the girls out of this insane idea.
“Explain to me again why this is a good idea. The last time your mother saw me, we had to call 911.”
“Technically, there was no need to call 911 because all the paramedics were already there,” Alexis corrected him.
“Literal, much?” he muttered.
“This time, she’s already in the hospital with plenty of medical people around,” Monica added.
He nearly screeched the car to a halt. “That is not exactly what I want to hear.”
“I was joking. Geez. You’re so sensitive.”
Yeah, he was sensitive about this situation. Right now, he’d much rather be heading to the Lost Harbor airport and getting the hell out of town. He could always ask Lucas Holt to deal with his rental boat. Hell, he could buy it. What difference did it make? “Can you blame me?”
“Okay, here’s the thing. Your music is amazing. It’s like…that first sip of hot chocolate on a winter day. Or when the sun comes out after a week of rain and you feel like everything’s going to be okay.”
Wow. That might be the best review of his music he’d ever received. “Thank you. But your mother is a different generation.”
“But she loves music, and yours is timeless. It’s about the lyrics, the melody. All you need is your voice and a guitar.” Which sat on the backseat next to Alexis, because they’d badgered him into stopping at the hotel for it.
“This is all very flattering, but come on. Your mother hates me. She hates my mother, and she’s transferred that hatred onto me.”
“She thinks she hates you. But really she misses Dad.”
That observation struck him as very astute. Whether it was true or not, he couldn’t say.
“This time, you won’t be kissing Zoe. Zoe won’t even be there. Theo is with Mama right now.” Alexis rested her chin on Monica’s seat back, but Monica pushed her away, muttering something about breathing in her ear.
Padric couldn’t help asking, “Where’s Zoe?”
“We’re actually not sure. But Theo texted us that she left this morning. You don’t have to worry about running into her. She probably went home to catch up on sleep.”
That was a relief—and yet also a massive disappointment. He wanted to see Zoe again because he always wanted to see her. It was a primal thing, as if his eyeballs craved the sight of her. But he also didn’t want to upset her.
“So your theory here is that if I sing to your mother, she might soften toward me?”
“Yes. In her mind, you’re part of the demon family that wrecked her marriage. She doesn’t know you.”
“She used to kn
ow me. I used to hang out at your house all the time.”
“Exactly. She’s forgotten that. Once she hears your music, she’ll see everything differently. She won’t hate you anymore.” Certainty rang in Monica’s voice. Too bad he didn’t feel the same. This whole thing felt terribly risky, and the only reason he was going along with it was the effort they’d put into their five-thousand-dollar bid.
“And what if it backfires?”
“Honestly, things are already as bad as they can be,” Alexis said frankly.
“That’s not true. Her condition could get worse. I can’t be responsible for that.”
Alexis and Monica both answered at once. “We’ll talk to her first. It won’t be a surprise. She’ll have a choice. She can say ‘no’ if she really wants to. But she won’t. Here’s the secret about Mama.”
Padric cocked his head to hear the big revelation as Monica lowered her voice.
“She loves being the center of attention.”
Now that statement had the ring of truth.
There was no sign of Zoe’s red Subaru in the hospital parking lot. Padric shoved aside his disappointment and hauled his guitar out of the backseat. The twins went first, dashing through the front doors on their way to prepare their mother for a private serenade from the son of the woman who had stolen her husband.
Except that she’d kept her husband.
Mom had surrendered to Dad’s demand that they move away immediately. They’d gone into counseling. They’d repaired their marriage—and presumably the Bellinis had done the same.
Although it was probably a louder process.
Nicola Bellini had held on to her husband and her grudge. Would she be able to let the grudge go, long after the husband was gone?
The charge nurse directed him to a room on the second floor of the A wing. Outside the room, he propped himself against the wall and softly tuned his guitar while the twins disappeared inside.
Yours Since Yesterday Page 21
