by Debbie Mason
“I wish he was here for you now, girlie. You could use his support. He’d help you to deal with your grief instead of hiding from it in a medicated fog,” Colleen said to Olivia, who was twisting the cap off a prescription bottle.
Of course, she couldn’t hear her. Still, looking at Olivia’s red eyes and blotchy face, she felt bad for her remark. The girl was suffering.
“I wish you could hear me, Olivia. It might bring you some comfort to know that the light and love they talk about seeing and feeling is truly there. Life doesn’t end, of that I’m now certain. One day you’ll see Cooper again.”
Olivia took an antianxiety pill, the glass of water shaking as she brought it to her lips. Colleen cursed Stanley Morton and Olivia’s late husband, Nathan Sutherland. Before Stanley had started calling her last week, Olivia had been doing well. But no matter what, today would be difficult for her young friend.
“Take care of yourself for a change. They can handle the brunch without you.” She was worried about Olivia working today. She wasn’t herself. Colleen followed her to the bed and sat on the mattress beside her.
Olivia pulled out the nightstand drawer. From beneath the papers, she withdrew a gold-framed photograph, cradling it lovingly in her hands.
The day Olivia had shared her secrets with Colleen, she’d brought her here to show her this very photograph. Cooper had died days after the photo had been taken. In it, he wore a Boston Red Sox ball cap pulled low on his bald head. Olivia had managed to get her little boy’s favorite player to visit the hospital that afternoon. It was the last photo she had of her son.
“I miss you, my sweet boy. I miss you with all my heart,” Olivia said, clutching the photo to her chest.
Colleen placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, hoping that somehow Olivia sensed she wasn’t alone. Colleen understood her grief better than most. Sometimes living to a hundred and four had seemed as much a curse as a blessing. She’d buried her husband, children, her granddaughter-in-law Mary, and her great-granddaughter Riley, so many friends and enemies too.
Olivia set her son’s photograph on the nightstand. Now that everyone knew who she was, Olivia wouldn’t feel she had to hide his existence anymore. Colleen imagined that at least would bring her some comfort. She hoped that would be enough to get Olivia through the next few hours. The thought had barely crossed her mind when Olivia’s cell phone rang. Colleen felt her stiffen beside her.
Olivia took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then answered the phone. “Hello, Stanley. I understand you’ve been trying to reach me.” She paused, briefly closing her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s been two years either. I know. Thank you. Stanley, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m rather busy at the moment, so if you could tell me what you need from…Yes, I’m well aware Nathan had a wife and a daughter, but I don’t know what that has to do with me.” She listened to the man on the other end. “I’m very sorry to hear Nathan’s wife is missing. If you like, I can reach out to the foundation’s community partners in Kenya…Sorry, I must have misunderstood.” Whatever he said had Olivia rising to her feet while frantically shaking her head. “No. No, I can’t. I don’t care what Nathan wanted, Stanley. It’s cruel of you to even ask.”
“Oh, but I wish I could put my hands through the phone, Stanley Morton. You must hear the pain you’re causing her, but still you don’t let up.”
Olivia sat back down on the bed as Stanley droned on. Colleen could hear his muffled voice but not what he said. Whatever it was, Olivia looked like she was in shock. She hung up a few moments later, and then, as though in a daze, she walked to the bathroom.
Colleen followed her. Olivia picked up the prescription bottle, her gaze unfocused.
“No! You already took one. Put that down right now. You don’t know what you’re doing,” Colleen cried as she tried to wrestle the pill bottle from Olivia’s hand. It was no use.
Chapter Five
Colleen paced in front of the French doors in the manor’s dining room. They opened to the patio where family and guests were currently enjoying the Mother’s Day brunch. May had been unseasonably warm, and people were taking advantage of the weather. Colleen would like nothing more than to enjoy the scent of lilacs and the animated conversations that were floating in on a gentle spring breeze; instead she was fretting about Olivia.
Just as Colleen had been unable to stop her from taking the pills, she’d be unable to keep her from working the brunch. Apparently, her family was oblivious to the fact that Olivia was high. Then again, she’d been in the conference room for the past hour working on flowerpots with the children who weren’t staying at the manor but had come with their families for brunch.
Colleen couldn’t imagine it was easy for Olivia to be around the little ones today, but it kept her from trying to help serve the tables. The waitstaff was overrun at the moment, and knowing Olivia, she’d jump right in to help. Colleen supposed she should go and check on her again but had hoped to get her once-right-hand man and confidant’s attention.
Not that Jasper could hear or see her; he merely sensed her presence. Though her ability to make her presence known was inconsistent at best. She believed Jasper knew she was around because of Simon.
Or as Jasper referred to him, her partner in crime. Simon was the only one who could both see and hear her. And right now, she was glad of it. Jasper was busy ordering about the staff in his brisk, no-nonsense manner, and as Colleen had learned from previous experience, she couldn’t step foot outside of Greystone. For some reason, she was tied to the manor. She needed someone who wasn’t.
“Simon, come here,” she called to him, frowning when he slinked to her side and looked both left and right. Usually he acted like lord of the manor, but today he seemed almost fearful to be caught in the dining room.
“Did Jasper catch you in the kitchen again?” she asked him. He gave an exaggerated shake like he’d gotten wet. Colleen wasn’t sure if that was a no or a display of how frightened he’d been. “Don’t mind Jasper. His bark is worse than his bite. Just stay out of his way. Now, here’s what I need you to do for me, Simon. Tug on Finn’s pant leg to get his attention. Once you have it, make him follow you to the conference room. He’ll know what to do once he gets there.”
She’d heard him talking to Sophie out on the patio yesterday, so she knew he already had his own concerns about Olivia. Besides, it played into her matchmaking plans. Olivia needed a broad shoulder to cry on, strong arms to offer her comfort.
Simon didn’t move.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked, glancing at the table where her great-grandsons Liam and Finn sat. She blinked. Finn sat in a wheelchair with his wounded leg extended in front of him, same as it had been back in March. His arms were crossed, and there was a scowl on his handsome face.
She could see how being back in the wheelchair would bother him. The lad had been the most active of Colin and Mary’s four boys. There wasn’t a sport he hadn’t been involved in or excelled at. A daredevil at heart, he wouldn’t like to be confined.
“All right, get Sophie instead,” Colleen said, eyeing the other family members at the table. “Once she sees the state Olivia is in, she’ll probably get Finn anyway.” Simon took off like a shot…in the opposite direction.
Frustrated, Colleen looked back at the table. Sophie was making her rounds, speaking to the guests at other tables. Surely the fact that Sophie wasn’t at the family’s table wasn’t enough to throw Simon off.
But an exchange between Liam and Finn distracted Colleen from her thoughts about Simon, and she stepped to the edge of the door.
“Don’t look now, but trouble’s coming your way, bro,” Liam said to Finn.
Liam was watching his grandmother, who was making her way toward their table. She wore an elegant sapphire pantsuit, and Colleen wasn’t surprised to see several of the older gentlemen following Kitty’s progress across the patio. She was a fine-looking woman with her white-blond hair and blue eyes.
“D
o me a favor and head Grams off at the pass,” Finn said. “I seriously can’t have another debate with her about why I won’t take over for Doc Bishop without losing it.”
“You’ve been away for a while, so I’ll reeducate you on her subtleties. I’ve seen that devious little smile and calculating little twinkle before. It’s Gram’s matchmaking look, not her headhunting one, and it appears to be directed squarely at you and Olivia.” Liam grinned. “Grams already had a soft spot for her. Imagine what she thinks of her now that she’s found out Dana’s Olivia, the gazillionaire who saved Lexi.”
At least her daughter-in-law had a plan to keep Finn in town. It was nice to know they were on the same page this time around. Both Kitty and Jasper had unwittingly undermined Colleen’s matchmaking schemes with Ava and Griffin. But in the end, true love and Colleen prevailed.
Though she wondered how Kitty’s attention could be focused on Finn and Olivia when the girl was in the conference room. Colleen glanced over her shoulder to see the woman in question walking across the dining room like she was on a ship in the midst of a hurricane.
Mia, Sophie and Liam’s eight-year-old daughter—the apple of Colleen’s eye—ran down the stairs into the dining room waving a flowerpot. “Olivia, you forgot your present.” The small pot had been painted purple to match the hyacinth inside.
It was obvious that receiving a gift on Mother’s Day was testing Olivia’s mettle. As soon as she’d hugged and thanked Mia, the little girl skipped off to join the family. And Olivia waved down a waitress carrying a tray of mimosas.
“Thank you, Ivy,” she slurred, taking a champagne flute off the tray. She tossed it back, returning the empty glass to take another. She gave the waitress a half-smile. “It’s one of those days, you know.”
“I’m sorry you’re having a bad day,” the waitress said kindly, only to roll her eyes when she walked away to refill her tray.
Colleen looked around for help but Jasper and Simon were nowhere in sight.
“Olivia dear, come join us,” Kitty called from the patio.
That was not the help Colleen was hoping for. Finn confronting Olivia in the conference room was one thing; out on the patio was a whole other kettle of fish. She heard Finn groan and Liam laugh.
Olivia must have heard Finn, too, because she muttered to herself as she walked toward the French doors. “Does he actually believe I’m any happier about Kitty trying to get us together than he is? Of course he thinks it’s my fault she caught us half dressed in the closet. I’m so tired of men blaming everything on me. I really am. They’re all so judgy.”
Olivia seemed to believe that, like her walking, she was talking normally. She wasn’t. She was slurring her words in an overloud voice.
Everyone had turned to stare at her, including Finn. Olivia didn’t seem to notice.
“You’re back in your wheelchair!” she cried, tripping out of the French doors and rushing to Finn’s side. “It’s all my fault. I’m so, so, so sorry.” She grabbed the push handles. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the hospital. I promise, I’ll make this up to you, Finn. I’ll get you the help you—”
“Uh, in case you’ve forgotten, I am a doctor, Olivia. Trust me, my leg’s”—he looked up at her—“not that bad. The only reason I’m in a wheelchair is because Grams and my dad—”
“No, don’t try and argue with me. It’s common knowledge that doctors make the worst patients. They’re so busy saving the world, they don’t take proper care of themselves or their families,” she said fiercely, her face flushed as she shoved at the chair, moving it back and forth. “What is wrong with this thing?”
“Olivia, stop…” Finn’s eyes widened when the violent jerking motion started knocking over things on the table.
Beside him, Liam covered his laugh with a cough. “The brake’s on, Olivia. Just—”
“Are you insane? Don’t tell her how to take off the brake,” Finn said to Liam, but Olivia had already figured it out.
Finn looked back at Olivia while trying to put the brake back on. “Stop, I’m not going to the hospital.”
“You don’t have to be so cross. I’m just trying to help you,” she said as she pushed him along the outer edge of the patio.
Jasper, wearing what Colleen thought of as his black butler suit, came to stand beside her. Clasping his hands behind his back, he watched the drama unfolding with a furrowed brow. “I’m not sure I’d trust Miss Olivia to steer Master Finn clear of that tree.”
Colleen wasn’t sure how it happened—maybe it was because Finn was trying to escape from his wheelchair and Olivia looked like she might have tripped over something—but the wheelchair and Finn were now careening wildly toward the tree trunk.
“Master Liam, your brother…” Jasper waved, releasing a shuddered breath of relief when Olivia got hold of the push handles in the nick of time. “For a woman who appears to be inebriated and wearing high heels, Miss Olivia is surprisingly fleet of foot. Though despite saving Master Finn from a head-on collision with the tree, it appears he isn’t quite ready to forgive her.”
Colleen sighed. Jasper was right. It looked like getting these two together was going to take longer than she’d thought.
“Miss Kitty’s yoga lessons seem to be standing her in good stead,” Jasper said, a fond smile on his face as he watched Kitty hurry after Finn, who was now power wheeling to the French doors.
“Finn darling, give Olivia a chance to make it up to you. It was an accident. She didn’t mean—”
“If I ever see Olivia Davenport again, it will be too soon,” Finn muttered, wheeling his way into the dining room.
Colleen grimaced. Olivia, who’d just reached Kitty’s side, overheard Finn’s parting remark.
“Given Master Finn’s apparent aversion to Miss Olivia, I think it best we set our sights elsewhere, Madame. I’ve always thought Lexi and Master Finn would be a fine match. What do you say?”
At the sound of car doors slamming and older women’s voices outside his childhood home on Breakwater Way, Finn stopped in the middle of a leg lift to shoot an apprehensive glance at Miller. The retriever raised his regal head from his plaid bed by the fireplace and snuffled the air before giving Finn a look that seemed to say, What’s your problem? and went back to sleep.
“My problem is you have a sixth sense and only bark if it’s a stranger. Which means they’ve found me,” he half whispered, half muttered at the dog. A fact that had been proven four days earlier at the lighthouse.
Finn had been hiding out at his dad’s place for the past three days in hopes of avoiding his grandmother and the Widows Club. As an added bonus, it kept him out of Olivia’s crosshairs. The less contact he had with that woman the better. He grimaced at the forcefulness behind the thought. It made him like feel like a hard-hearted jerk.
No parent should have to bury a child. In some ways, he couldn’t imagine her pain. While in other ways he too easily could. In third-world and war-torn countries, losing a child was almost an everyday occurrence. Olivia deserved his sympathy more than his censure.
And he did, he really did sympathize with her. Not only did he pride himself on being an empathetic guy, but he and his family had suffered loss too. It had been traumatic and devastating and had torn them apart. Seven and a half years later, the scars were still there. Time, as he well knew, didn’t always heal.
So he totally got that everyone handled loss differently. In their own way and in their own time. Turning to booze and drugs though…Yeah, that kinda tested the bounds of his sympathy and compassion. But that wasn’t why he was avoiding Olivia. The reason he was staying out of her way was because he couldn’t afford another Olivia-related injury. He’d just rebooked his flight to the Congo and was leaving in two weeks’ time.
The chatter of old ladies’ voices coming up the walkway tore him from his thoughts, spurring him into action. He carefully lowered himself to the floor to avoid being seen by the white heads bobbing by the bay window. But there was one problem
with his plan. Because of his knee replacement, crawling on all fours was out. So was doing the backward crabwalk, because the plate and screws fusing the bones in his foot and ankle weren’t ready for that kind of action, especially after Olivia’s strawberry scent had driven him to distraction in the closet and he’d tripped over the hand weight.
Instead, he rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself across the wide-planked hardwood floor with his arms.
His dad, coming out of the kitchen eating a bacon sandwich, spotted him and lowered the sandwich from his mouth. “Son, what are you doing?”
“No time to explain. Just get down before they see you. Hurry.” Finn pointed to the floor, sighing when a shadow of concern crossed his father’s face. “I’m not having a flashback.” He’d been lucky. He hadn’t suffered from nightmares or flashbacks since he’d come home. But that didn’t stop his old man from worrying. Probably because his dad had helped Liam through his flashbacks a few months back. “This is for real, and those old ladies about to knock on the door are as dangerous as any rebels. Do. Not. Answer,” he warned his father when someone rang the doorbell.
“Finn, Colin, I know you’re in there. Open up,” his grandmother called through the door.
“Dad, if you get down and stay quiet, they’ll go away, and you can enjoy your lunch in peace.”
“Finn, it’s my mother. I have to let her in.”
“No, you don’t. I’m your son, and that means I’m higher up on the familial loyalty hierarchy than Grams. So would you just—” There was a knock on the front window. Finn inched up to see Ida Fitzgerald’s and Evelyn Harte’s faces pressed against the glass, waving. “Yoo-hoo, Colin. We’re here.”
Finn slowly turned his head, eyes narrowed at his father. “Yoo-hoo, Colin, we’re here?”
