Island of Second Chances

by Cara Lockwood

  “What can I do for you, Laura?”

  “You saw Mark’s boat.” She was going to be as direct as possible. No need to beat around the bush. “He needs your help to fix it.”

  Edward quirked a surprised eyebrow. “Really? Did he send you to ask me?” Edward crossed his muscled, tanned arms over his chest.

  “No,” Laura said, quickly shaking her head. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  Edward threw back his head and laughed. “Well, he’ll be pretty pissed when he finds out. You know we’re not on the best of terms.”

  “I know, but his boat is badly damaged, and you can help him. You owe him that much.”

  Edward’s eyes narrowed. “I owe him? What about what he did to Elle? Getting her arrested? And then he nearly ran our business into the ground, Laura. He should’ve taken the time off, but instead, he came in here angry and irrational and insulted most of our suppliers. He nearly lost us our biggest contract. Then, when I ask him to take time off, he tells me to go jump in the ocean, and I’m forced to push him out. Where in that do I owe him anything?”

  Laura could see Edward’s face flush a bit, his temper rising.

  “He owes you, too. I’m not saying it’s one-sided,” Laura explained, holding up her hands and trying to be a peacemaker. She sighed. This wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped. She needed to regroup and hit him from a different angle. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. Look, you guys are brothers. You founded this amazing company together. You’ve been through...well, everything.”

  Edward slipped off the front of his desk and moved away from her, staring out at the sea and putting his back to her. Laura stood, hoping to make her point.

  “You are brothers, and no matter what happens, no matter what fights, when bad things happen, brothers need to help one another. It’s what they do. You can go back to being furious at each other after the Timothy is saved.”

  Laura suddenly thought of her sister and their petty argument. She hadn’t talked to her since that explosive phone call.

  Edward stood silently, his back to her.

  “I have a sister, and we’re barely talking right now. But if a storm had destroyed the only thing she thought might be worth living for, I’d go help her save it. Tomorrow.”

  Laura knew that was true. She might have differences with Maddie, but that didn’t change the fact that they were blood. She also knew Maddie would probably show up in her time of need, even if she’d spend the next twenty years rubbing it in her face.

  Edward let out a long sigh and shot her a short glance over his shoulder. “He probably won’t even accept my help. Even if I tried.”

  “Leave that to me,” she said, hoping she could find a way to convince Mark to let his anger go.

  * * *

  BZZZT. BZZZT.

  The next morning, Mark woke up to the sound of a loud buzz saw.

  What on earth?

  He sat up, glanced next to him and noticed that Laura was gone from bed.

  “Laura?” he called to his condo but got no response. Was she in the bathroom maybe?

  Bzzzt. Bzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzt. There went that awful saw again. He glanced at the clock and saw it was six thirty.

  Who was working this early?

  He fell back into his pillow and groaned. Where was the racket even coming from? It sounded like his living room, for goodness’ sake. Who was working this early?

  He thought it might be someone making repairs to another condo, but why with a saw? Hammer, okay. But saw?

  He sat up and rubbed his face, running his hands through his disheveled dark hair. There was no sleeping through that noise. He pulled himself from bed, wearing just a pair of gym shorts. He snagged a shirt and tugged it over his head and headed out his patio door.

  He realized the noise was coming from his lit workshop.

  Who the hell was in his workshop?

  He padded over, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring a baseball bat. Looting was always a problem after bad weather but, he reasoned, what thief would use the tools he planned to steal?

  Mark swung around the corner and that’s when he saw Timothy back on the working blocks and Laura standing in front of the boat. What the—

  But she wasn’t the one with the saw. That was Edward, who happened to be on the deck, working to removing what was left of the broken mast.

  “Hey!” Mark called. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Edward stopped his work, cut the loud saw and raised the protective goggles on top of his head. “Too loud for you?” he asked.

  Laura turned and rushed to him, putting her hands on his chest. “Before you say a word, I asked Edward to be here. He is going to help you fix this boat. You’re going to put aside your petty differences because right now, you both need each other, and if a hurricane can’t help you bury the hatchet, then I don’t know what will.”

  “Technically, tropical storm,” Edward corrected.

  Mark glanced at Laura and then at Edward, feeling numb. What was happening? Edward...helping?

  “You can hate me again after I finish helping you restore this old heap,” Edward said, throwing a bit of sawed-off mast down to the heap of discarded splintered pieces.

  “No. You. Me. The beach. Now,” Mark ground out, not sure if he was going to talk to his brother or punch him in the face.

  “You want to fight? Fine, let’s fight.” Edward threw down his work gloves and stalked out to the open beach. Mark followed him, his hands balled into fists.

  “No. Please. Mark!” Laura ran after him, grabbing his shirt.

  “You stay here.” Mark’s voice was low and dangerous.

  “Let me help,” Laura pleaded, tugging on his T-shirt. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “No.” Mark whirled, feeling the venom all but choke him. He no longer knew who made him more upset. Why did Laura think all problems were solvable? Why did she think they could all get along? “You’ve done enough.”

  “I was just trying to help. I was just trying to—”

  “Well, don’t, okay? Stop meddling in things that aren’t your business.” Mark bit off the words, but they still found their mark. Each syllable landed against her like a blow, and she looked like he’d slapped her.

  He felt a momentary surge of guilt then. He was being harsh, mean even, and he didn’t like it. Mark knew she meant well, but he was also tired of her trying to fix everything. Some things just remained broken, and that’s how life was.

  He glanced at his brother stalking far out to the beach. When he looked back at Laura, he saw her eyes glisten with hurt. But he didn’t have time to apologize. Besides, she needed to learn to stop meddling.

  He stalked away from her, not bothering to look back.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  LAURA RAN BACK into the condo, slamming the patio door shut behind her. Tears streamed down her face as she hugged herself. Was she being oversensitive? Was it the pregnancy hormones? Or had Mark been a total jerk? She was just trying to help.

  She felt as though she was right back in the relationship with Dean, when he’d shut her out and given her the cold shoulder. That look in Mark’s eyes, the coldness, it made her believe they might be over.

  She was just trying to help. Just trying to help Mark overcome his stupid pride. Edward was willing to help, and she knew that they had history, but the fact was the Timothy would never sail if they didn’t get it fixed, and Edward was the only man on the island who could get the job done.

  What was she even doing here? This wasn’t her fight. All she’d tried to do was help Mark fulfill his dreams of sailing around the world, but what about her hopes? What about her dreams? Did Mark even care about those?

  She couldn’t even tell him about the baby in her belly. She thought about breaking the news now and hearing him tell her the baby was just one m
ore way she was meddling. The thoughts felt like tiny pricks of a needle. Stabs of sharp, thin pain.

  She could leave. She could head to the airport right now. But first, she’d wait. See if the brothers killed each other. If they started throwing punches, someone would need to call the police.

  Laura went back out on the patio, determined to watch.

  * * *

  EDWARD STALKED DOWN about twenty feet along the beach and then turned to face Mark. He glowered at him, every ounce of muscle in his body tense. Mark knew that look, the one Edward saved for moments he was particularly pissed, like when they were kids and Mark scuffed Edward’s new baseball glove. Edward had always been high-strung, hard to manage, demanding. Why their father loved him better was beyond Mark. When Mark looked at his brother, he just saw someone who spent his life spoiled, with everything, including affection, handed to him on a silver platter. What Mark never understood was why, when Edward had so much, he still felt the need to take from him. Over and over again.

  “You’re going to hit me? Then go on, hit me. I was just trying to help you,” Edward began.

  “I told you that I never want your help.” Mark’s jaw clenched.

  “Well, tell your girlfriend that because she’s the one who came pleading to me.”

  Mark flinched. He hated the idea of Laura asking Edward for anything. “She doesn’t know you like I know you.”

  “How long are you going to be mad at me?” Edward asked, throwing up his hands. “It’s not my fault you had Elle arrested, and then I helped her, and she fell in love with me. That’s not my fault.”

  “She was my wife.”

  “You didn’t treat her like your wife. You shut her out. You blamed her for Timothy’s death.” Edward strode forward, and poked him in the chest.

  Mark felt the guilt blossom there. He did blame his ex-wife for Timothy’s death. If she hadn’t taken those pills, she would’ve been more awake, more aware, and she’d never have let Timothy walk into the ocean that day. “She wasn’t watching him,” he said. “She had taken those pills. Did you know about that? The pill problem?”

  Edward went silent for a minute. “Yeah, I know. She told me.”

  This surprised Mark.

  “Taking those pills was a mistake that she beats herself up for every single day,” Edward said. “She punished herself enough. She didn’t need you to try to get her arrested.” His eyes flashed with anger.

  “I wanted to get her help. That’s all.”

  “Really? Was that all? You weren’t trying to punish her?”

  Mark hesitated. Was he? Maybe a small part of him was. “She sure did get pregnant again in a hurry. She sure doesn’t mind replacing Timothy with a new model.”

  Edward let out an exasperated sigh. He backed away from Mark, turning his back on him and angrily running his hands through his hair.

  “Before the pregnancy, did you know that Elle tried to kill herself?”

  That stopped Mark cold. “No. How?”

  “Those pills you like to lord over her head. She took a whole bottle of them.”

  Mark felt stunned. He’d never heard this. He’d never even realized Elle had been so affected. She just seemed to be the one who had everything together...who bounced back when he didn’t.

  “I made her throw them up, and then I rushed her to the ER,” Edward said. “I did that. And then she started seeing a counselor and she got better and she kicked those pills. Did you know that? Kicked them cold.”

  Mark shook his head. “I didn’t know.”

  “Why would you know? You haven’t cared about anyone since Timothy died except yourself. You let Elle twist in the wind for this.”

  Mark glanced down at his bare feet. He supposed he had. He was having trouble focusing. “But you slept with her. When we were still married. She was my wife.”

  “She was mourning. I was, too. He was my nephew. We didn’t plan it, Mark. It wasn’t a grand scheme. She needed comfort. That’s all. I’m sorry for that. I should never have done it. But I wasn’t thinking straight, and I’m sorry. I am.”

  Mark felt a bit of his chest loosen. Here was the apology he’d been waiting for so long.

  “You were supposed to be there for me. That was the worst time of my life.”

  Edward looked guilty as he glanced out over the water. “I know. I’m sorry.” He turned back to Mark. “It might not mean much, but I’m here now. I want to help you. I know what this race means to you. Let me help you race in it.” He kicked some sand by his toe. “I know I wasn’t there for you before, but let me be there for you now.”

  Mark looked at the sand by his feet. He realized in that moment he didn’t have much choice. After all, if he wanted to sail the Timothy in that race, his brother would be the only one who could help him.

  Edward took a step closer. “We don’t have to be friends, okay? And after I help you with this, you can go back to hating me just like before. Just let me do this. Please.”

  Part of Mark wanted to fight, but then he realized that all the fight had drained out of him the minute that storm had wrecked the Timothy. Maybe he could stomach Edward being here, for now. Suddenly, he realized that some things were more important than grudges. Like winning that race. Like racing the Timothy.

  Mark nodded. “Fine,” he said.

  The two brothers walked back to the patio, where Laura was waiting for them, arms crossed.

  “Have you two made up?” she asked, her eyes still a little red from tears.

  “Sort of.” He wasn’t sure he was ready to fully forgive his brother just yet. But, he supposed, letting him work on the Timothy was a start. “And...I’m sorry,” he murmured. “For what I said to you.”

  “Good. You should be.” Laura sniffed.

  Mark grabbed hold of her and pulled her into a hug. He inhaled traces of her lavender-scented shampoo. She melted into him a little, leaning her head against his chest.

  “I was grumpy. Not used to be woken up so rudely,” he joked, referencing the very first time they met.

  Laura chuckled into his shirt.

  “Okay, Mr. Noise Pollution,” she joked, and then he knew she’d forgiven him. Mostly. In that moment, he felt for the first time since the storm that everything might really work out.

  * * *

  IN A WEEK, the Timothy was as good as new. With Edward’s help and Tanner Boating supplies, a new mast had soon replaced the old one, and now he was ready to sail. The race was postponed so that racers could get their bearings and get back to the island if they’d evacuated for the storm, not to mention, it gave time for the floodwaters to recede.

  Laura had to cash in a bit more of her 401(k) to stay, and even as she did, she worried about the future. Her waistline was growing a bit, as far as she could tell, and the morning sickness just kept getting worse. In fact, they should call it morning, noon and night sickness, because it wasn’t just when she woke up.

  “Are you sick again?” Mark asked, knocking on the bathroom door after a particularly strong-smelling calamari Mark brought home from a local restaurant made her sprint to the bathroom. They’d finished taking down all the boards over the windows and now the condo was full of sunlight once more, but the warm light didn’t help her upset stomach.

  “I’m fine,” she said, running the water loudly. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “But it’s been going on all week,” he cried, knocking harder. “You sure you don’t need help?”

  “Fine,” she called. Laura wondered how long she’d be able to keep up this charade. He’d find out soon, she just knew it. First, she’d been able to claim seasickness when they’d taken the Timothy out for a test run. Then she said it might be food poisoning, but now, he was going to get suspicious.

  She splashed cold water on her face and willed her body to get it together. No more hurling, little one, she sco
lded her own belly. She looked down at her shorts, unbuttoned at the waist because her waistline had grown too much.

  Despite the fact that she couldn’t keep much down, she’d still managed to gain a little weight, her shorts becoming tighter. Soon, she’d really have to think about finding a doctor and having a checkup. She’d called her old ob-gyn and had her call in prenatal vitamins to the local pharmacy. Laura had also promised to get checked out as soon as she could.

  “Laura?” Mark knocked again. “You okay?”

  She opened the bathroom. “Fine,” she said, brightly. “Just...leftover stomach bug, I think.”

  “It’s gone on for too long, though,” Mark said, forehead wrinkled in concern.

  Laura shrugged.

  “You should go see a doctor.”

  “No! No, I’ll be fine. Really. I’m feeling better already.” She wasn’t, but Mark didn’t need to know that. “Let me eat some crackers and see if that helps. Then, we can talk about strategy for the race.”

  Laura knew talking about the race would refocus Mark’s attention for the next several hours. Then he wouldn’t be thinking about her upset stomach.

  I should tell him. I should just admit that I’m pregnant, right here and tell him. Then what? He already said he didn’t want kids. Not after Timothy. He had no interest in starting another family. Laura couldn’t imagine seeing disappointment on his face. Not again. Not like Dean. If she saw that, it would break her heart, and she wasn’t ready for it. Might never be ready for it.

  “Edward had a good idea, actually,” Mark began. The brothers had bonded over repairing the boat. They might not be best buddies exactly, but they did talk, and for that Laura was grateful. Laura listened to Mark talk about race strategies and thought of her own sister. She would reach out to her.

  “Want a beer?” Mark asked suddenly and she started, realizing he’d long since finished his story about Edward and she hadn’t exactly been listening.

  “Uh. Thanks but...no. Still not 100 percent.” She grinned sheepishly. How long would she be able to hide the morning sickness? He was already getting suspicious and now she was suddenly giving up alcohol? She needed advice. She needed...her sister. “I think I’m going to call Maddie.”