by Sarah Morgan
“You can’t stop shivering. I’m asking when you last ate.”
Her head throbbed and she lifted her fingers to her forehead, wishing she’d tried to sleep a little longer. Coming here had been a mistake. She should have sent a note. “I don’t know—” She rubbed her head with her fingertips. “Last night.”
“Not eating isn’t going to fix anything.” His gaze skimmed over her. “You don’t weigh anything.”
“You don’t know what I weigh.”
“I carried you, remember?”
She was trying not to remember. Right now she wished she were back in that semiconscious state.
She also remembered the soft rumble of his voice in her ear. I’ve got you.
In those few moments, she’d felt safe. She’d always felt safe with him, which was ironic given that he’d hurt her more than anyone.
“It’s been a difficult time.”
“I heard. I’m sorry about your husband. Do you want breakfast?” He pulled open the fridge and pulled out eggs and bacon.
“Is Charlie going to mind your making yourself at home?”
“You can ask him next time you see him.” He fried bacon and cooked eggs in a skillet. The smell tantalized and seduced until she almost felt hungry.
When he plated up crispy bacon, perfect scrambled eggs and mushrooms she frowned.
“You used to hate mushrooms.”
“Still do. This is for you.” He put the plate on the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down.”
She wasn’t sure she could eat, but the food looked so good her stomach was sending her mixed signals.
He heaped food onto his own plate and put it on the table along with two brimming mugs of coffee.
She nibbled a piece of bacon. “You always did know how to look after yourself.”
“There wasn’t anyone else to do it for me.”
“Was it a shock, seeing your daughter?”
He spooned sugar into his coffee. “I think she had the bigger shock.”
“She only found out about you recently.”
“I guessed that.”
“I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want her to grow up feeling insecure.” For the millionth time she wished she could go back and do things differently. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because it helps to talk to someone.” He stirred his coffee. “And you know me.”
Scott knew about her past. He would understand, possibly even better than Ed, why she’d made the decisions she had. The fact that Scott knew her so well made her feel uncomfortable. It felt wrong to have that depth of intimacy with someone you weren’t married to. “I was determined to be a good mother. Every decision I made, I put her first.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“She doesn’t think so.” Lauren put her fork down. “She’s mad at me.”
“You can be mad at someone and still love them.”
For some reason she found that more comforting than anything else anyone had said to her. “The one thing I really wanted to get right in life, I got wrong.”
“You made the decision you thought was right at the time. That’s all any of us can do.”
“Have you ever made a decision you regretted?”
There was a long silence. “Yes.”
The way he was looking at her left her in no doubt about which decision he was talking about.
There had been a time when his confession would have left her dizzy with hope and longing.
Now? She didn’t know. Over the past few weeks her feelings had been battered so badly she felt numb, but now something inside her was reawakening. It was a tingle in her skin and a flutter in her belly.
“Eat.” He reached across and put the fork back in her hand. “Before you can be responsible for someone else, you have to take care of yourself.” The kindness to his tone brought a lump to her throat.
Since Ed had died, her focus had been on everyone else—his mother, her daughter—never on herself.
Lauren hadn’t had time to deal with her own feelings. Maybe she didn’t want to. She’d rather postpone the moment when she had to deal with the fact that Ed was never coming back. That he’d deceived her.
The thought made her chest tighten.
“Tell me why you’re buying the house.”
Scott rose to his feet and cleared the plates. “Instead of asking me why I’m buying it, you should be asking your mother why she’s selling it.”
It sounded so straightforward and obvious when he said it, but he was correct in what he’d said earlier. Talking to her mother had always been the hardest thing in the world.
She stood up and picked up her bag. “Thanks for breakfast and for rescuing my daughter. And for scraping me off the deck that day.”
“Anytime.”
“There won’t be another time. I don’t intend to make a habit of passing out.”
“Eat more. That helps.” He gave her a rare smile and that smile felt like a balm.
Some people never smiled and some people smiled all the time. Scott Rhodes smiled when he meant it, and right now he meant it.
That smile made her feel stronger.
“See you around, Scott.” She headed to the door, wondering why he bothered to arrive at work so early when Charlie wasn’t even here to see it.
She had one foot through the door when he spoke.
“Laurie—” The urgency in his tone made her head whip round.
She looked at him, mesmerized by the glacial blue of his eyes and the dark shadow of his jaw.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Forget it.”
The reckless, wild side of her that she’d buried a long time ago thought about pushing him to tell her what it was he wanted to say. But what was the point of that? She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t tell her what was on his mind until he was ready.
She also knew that whatever it was he’d wanted to say, it hadn’t been “nothing.” But whether it was something she wanted to hear was a different matter.
19
Jenna
Confrontation: a dispute, fight, or battle
between two groups of people
Jenna walked into the kitchen of The Captain’s House and found the contents of the cabinets spread across the floor. There were saucepans, skillets, platters, jugs, assorted dishes that didn’t match—it looked like a yard sale, and in the middle of it all was her sister, wearing black jeans, a black sweater and a cloak of visible stress.
“Hi.” Jenna put the bag she was holding on the table. “I got your text. Great idea to talk while Mom’s out. What are you doing?”
“Cleaning. Can you believe the amount of junk Mom has? I can’t even get half these cabinets to shut.” The frantic pitch of her voice rang alarm bells for Jenna.
Each time she saw her sister she seemed closer to snapping.
“Mom never throws anything away, you know that.” She was relieved to see Lauren manage a brief smile.
“Everything in this house has a history,” they chorused together and Jenna grinned, too.
“Hey, I have an idea.” She wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. “Let’s leave all this and go to the beach like we used to.”
Lauren’s smile vanished. “I don’t have time to go to the beach.”
“You love the beach. You used to ditch school to go to the beach.”
“That was a long time ago. And it’s winter. It’s freezing out there.”
Jenna regrouped. Maybe that suggestion had been asking too much, too soon.
“At least come and sit down. I’ll put the junk—oops, I mean family heirlooms—back in the cabinets and then I’ll make coffee. Have you had breakfast?”
“I don’t know. N
o, I don’t think so. There’s no time to sit down. I have so many things to do I don’t know where to start.”
Jenna noticed the stack of papers on the table.
Lists again, she thought, glancing at the one on top of the pile.
And then she saw a copy of the local newspaper open at the job section. A few of them were circled in red.
Waitress needed for evenings and weekends.
Chambermaid needed for summer season.
“Is this for Mack?”
Lauren was pushing saucepans back into the cabinet. “For me. I need a job.”
“But these are summer jobs.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Why are you doing this now? Have you had more news from London?”
“I know a few more of the details. Not that it makes much difference.” Lauren picked up a jug. “Do you think Mom would notice if we threw this out?”
“Probably. You have details of how it happened?”
Lauren put the jug down. “Ed set up the hedge fund ten years ago. You already know that.”
“Yes. I remember you telling us he picked up some big investors from Russia and the Arab states.”
“That’s right. Well, the fund grew pretty fast, and that was when he decided to take a different path. He acquired a few private companies, including a leisure company. They got themselves into debt.” She stared into space, the jug forgotten. “James told me that investors started asking for their money back, and that’s when it all fell apart. Almost all the money was tied up and Ed hadn’t drawn income for more than a year, something he failed to tell me. He extended the mortgage on our house. James thinks he really did believe he’d figure it all out without having to tell me—” She roused herself and looked at Jenna. “So I need a job.”
“What about your plans to start your interior design business? It’s all you’ve talked about for the past couple of years.”
“That was a dream. Real life isn’t built on dreams.”
“Don’t say that. Without dreams, where would we be?”
“Living in the land of reality.”
Jenna thought about the baby she wanted so badly. “Sometimes a dream can become reality.”
“That’s in books and movies.” Lauren’s tone was bleak and Jenna felt as if someone had wrenched her heart out of her chest.
If her sister wouldn’t come to her, then she’d go to her sister.
Pushing the pans out of the way, she sat down on the floor next to Lauren and put her arms round her.
“I’m not going to be one of those annoying people who says ‘I know how you feel.’ I can’t possibly know how you feel. All I’m going to say is that I’m here and I love you. We’ll get through this somehow.”
“How?” Lauren leaned her head on Jenna’s shoulder. “I need a job, Jenna. That has to be the first thing. And I can’t be picky.”
“You are the smartest woman I know. We’ll find a way you can still start your business.”
“To do that, I’d need money. Also clients. I always knew it would take time. In England I had contacts and a network. Here, I don’t know anyone.”
“But I do. And Mom does. Mom knows everyone.”
“No one is going to take on an interior designer whose work they haven’t seen. My house in London was my showroom.”
“Maybe you can use my house as a showroom. It could use the attention. God, this floor is hard. How long have you been sitting here?” Jenna stood up and pulled Lauren to her feet. “Sit at the table. I’ll put the kettle on. What time is Mom home?”
“I don’t know. She has a conservation committee meeting.” Lauren stacked saucepans. “Is she on every committee?”
“Pretty much. Could you eat eggs? I make great scrambled eggs. If it’s the conservation committee we have plenty of time.” She cracked eggs into a bowl, beat them with a whisk and sizzled some butter in the skillet. “One of Greg’s clients has started a yoga class. I thought we could go together.”
Lauren started to laugh. “Yoga? You hate yoga.”
“But you love it.” Jenna tipped eggs into the pan. “The fact that I’m willing to contort myself into uncomfortable shapes is a measure of my love for you. There is no one else in this world who could persuade me to sign up for a yoga class.”
Lauren shook her head. “You don’t need to go to yoga for me.”
“If we did it together, it would be fun. We could giggle in the back row like teenagers and generally be disruptive.” She stirred the eggs and lowered the heat. “We could start some serious gossip. I can imagine it now. Those Stewart sisters.”
Lauren looked wistful. “It’s been a while since anyone called us that.”
Too long, Jenna thought.
Nostalgia: a yearning for the return of past circumstances.
“When you texted me, you said you wanted to talk about Mom.”
“Yes. I want to talk to her about everything and I thought it would be good if we did it together.”
“By ‘everything’ do you mean the house, or—” Jenna hesitated. There were some things even they didn’t discuss. “Other stuff?”
“What? No! The house. That’s it.” The look of alarm on her sister’s face answered her question.
“Right. Wanted to clear that up because we need to agree on a strategy and normally our strategy is say nothing.” She tipped the eggs onto the plate and buttered a slice of toast.
“I want to understand what’s behind this decision to sell, don’t you? She’s obviously been planning it for a while because she had Scott do all that work on the windows and redecorate two of the bedrooms.”
“I know.” Jenna put the plate in front of her sister. “Eat. No excuses.”
“Wait—” Lauren looked confused. “You knew she had Scott here and you didn’t think to mention that to me?”
“I didn’t know it was relevant. You’re forgetting that I only found out recently that Scott Rhodes was a person of interest.”
Her sister’s color rose. “This isn’t about him.”
“If Mom was selling to a different person you’d be equally wound up?”
“I’m not wound up.”
Jenna glanced at the pans still spread across the floor and the lists on the table. “Right.”
Lauren ate slowly, as if she was forcing down every mouthful.
When the plate was clear, Jenna reached for her bag. “I made cookies.”
“I couldn’t eat another thing. I’ll save them for Mack.”
“Have things settled down at school?” Jenna knew about the beach incident, and also that the other kids hadn’t been speaking to Mack.
“Not really. I wanted to go in and talk to the school but she won’t let me. Says that will make things worse.”
“This is why I teach first grade. They’re easier to handle.”
Lauren stood up and walked to the window. “I’d forgotten how much I love this place.”
“I thought you loved London.”
“I do, but this is different. London is like a superficial acquaintance that you know you’re going to have fun with if you go out for a night. But the Vineyard is like meeting up with a friend you’ve known forever, and realizing that time apart doesn’t matter because you know each other so well. Does Mom still have help in the garden?”
“Yes. Ben comes a few times a week in the summer. Less in winter. He manages half the gardens in the town. He’s been a good friend to Mom.”
“Do you remember when they planted that tree?” Lauren stared into the garden across the lawn and the barren flower beds waiting patiently for winter to make way for spring.
Their tree was a direct descendent of the historic and now famous pagoda tree on South Water Street. Thanks to the efforts of a sea captain who had nursed the seedling all the way from Ch
ina to New England, the tree had been a feature of Edgartown for almost two hundred years.
“I remember.” The father of one of the children in her class was the tree warden.
On Martha’s Vineyard, the trees were a community. Some were even related.
Lauren turned. “Why didn’t she talk to you before now about selling? You visit her every week.”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I thought you might have picked up on something, that’s all.”
“Since when has Mom been easy to read, and since when is that my fault?” Jenna knew she was being defensive and felt guilty. Her sister was going through hell and she should be supporting her, not introducing her own issues. “Sorry. I’m trying to give up sugar and it’s making me bad-tempered.”
“You’re bad-tempered because we both have mommy issues and I’m trying to shift some of my horrible guilt on to you. It’s my fault, not yours.” Lauren shook her head. “I’m the one who is sorry. I could have tried harder to talk to Mom in one of our calls.”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference, you know that. If you’re worried about having somewhere to live, you can stay with me.” But even she knew that wasn’t a practical long-term suggestion. She and Greg had a second bedroom, but it was small and not exactly suited to her sister and a teenage girl.
“Thank you, but I hope we won’t need to. What we need is an honest talk with Mom.”
“Good luck with that.” She’d long since given up trying to discuss anything important with her mother. “There’s something else puzzling me.”
“What?”
“How can Scott afford to buy this house?”
“I don’t know. I had a conversation with him but I couldn’t work it out.”
“Wait—” Jenna thumped her feet onto the floor and sat up straight “—you saw him? You went to see your first love and didn’t tell me?”
“I went to thank him for helping Mack. He made me breakfast.”
Jenna noticed she didn’t deny the “first love” comment.
The sound of the front door interrupted them.
“Damn,” Jenna muttered. “This was about to get interesting. Don’t think the conversation has ended.”
