She had sent me to a shrink, which I'd hated. I hadn't wanted to talk about my feelings. I'd wanted to throw stuff and break things. That had been when the rebellion had set in. I'd moved into Grams' and had taken every opportunity to sneak and stay out, to be anywhere but the white house near the beach. Being there had meant my parents were dead. And outside on the beach, the park, at Tara's, and even at school had meant I could pretend they weren't.
I opened one of the small boxes marked Mom and saw old romance novels and VHS tapes. Home movies. My chest tightened, and I carried the box out of the closet. I set it on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the sofa. I stared at the box, wondering about the memories inside. It had been fourteen years since the accident, fourteen years since I looked at their belongings.
After several minutes I pulled everything out. I stared at the book covers of women in gowns with bulging cleavage beside men with naked chests. I didn't know Mom was into historical romances. I pulled out the old VHS tapes. Most of our home movies were still on VHS. I hadn't converted them over to DVD yet. But the movies of birthdays, holidays, and just random family moments were on the shelves with the other movies Grams and I owned. So what were these? Luckily, we had an ancient VHS/DVD combo player. I hoped the VHS side still worked. I pushed the tape into the slot and turned on the television.
Static filled the screen, and after a few seconds images appeared. Mom faced the camera. Gosh, she had been so young. She had big chestnut-brown hair with a pink lace headband. Her eyeliner and lipstick were thick and heavy, not too unlike what I wore now, but she seemed to have caked-on the foundation. She wore fingerless lace gloves on her hands. This had been Mom's Madonna phase.
Her smile was huge, and she'd held a bottle of moisturizer. Speaking directly to the camera, she said, "This is the best lotion out there. Don't take my word for it. Try it for yourself, and see if you like it. I guarantee you will." She winked into the camera and opened her mouth at the same time.
I giggled at how awkward it looked. Poor Mom.
Someone shouted, "Cut."
Mom had dropped the smile and eagerly asked, "How was that? Did I do okay?"
The other person walked out from behind the camera and toward her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "That was excellent, Lily."
Her smile returned. The pride had been written all over her face, and I couldn't help but smile along with her. What was this from? Mom auditioning for a commercial? She really had been interested in acting. Why hadn't I known?
I remembered Mom, Dad, and me going to Seattle to see a few plays. It was probably nothing like Broadway, but it was exciting and different from greasy buttered popcorn fingers and sticky floors at the cinema in town. On the drive home from the plays, Mom had always talked about me following my dreams, about how important it was to never let them go. I'd assumed she was talking about baking, although I hadn't been sure why she always brought it up at those moments. She'd never mentioned she wanted to act. But it all made sense now. She had wanted me to live out my dreams because she hadn't. Why had she given it up? I had a sinking feeling Dad and I had something to do with that.
Video Mom wrapped her arms around the man's waist and laid her cheek to his chest. They turned slightly, and I was able to see the man. It was Nathan Dearborn.
My stomach knotted. The look on her face, the way he held her, they appeared to be more than just mentor and student. But I couldn't imagine that the man who had been killed in my bakery was the same man Mom had had a relationship with. When had this happened? There was no writing on the tape, so I didn't know the year. Surely it was long before Dad had entered her life, but there was this nagging feeling that she had kept Nathan a secret for a specific reason. Did Grams know about this?
Okay, so maybe it had all been innocent, and she just hadn't gotten around to sharing that part of her life with me yet. I'd been only sixteen when she'd passed. She'd probably seen me as too young to discuss her love life, and I was very grateful for that, because…eww. But I also felt like I'd been living a lie. That I hadn't known my mother the way I thought I had.
The image became static again, and I was about to fast-forward to see if there was anything else on the tape, when the doorbell rang.
Damn.
I clicked off the TV, tossed the books back into the box, and went to the door. As soon as I opened it, I realized I'd forgotten about my date with Will tonight.
Double damn.
And there he was standing on my doorstep. His dark hair was parted to the side, and he wore taupe pants and a light-blue polo shirt. He was freshly shaven and looked as sweet as ever. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Despite my aversion to leaving my recent discovery, seeing him made me smile. There was something incredibly warm and caring about Will, and I craved some of that right now. There wasn't much I could do fretting over the past anyway. A night out with Will was exactly what I needed.
"Sure, just let me change real quick."
* * *
I hadn't meant to spend most of the evening playing with my stuffed sole and rice pilaf and not contributing to Will's riveting conversation about merpeople. He had a serious love of all things sea related. It wasn't until Will pointed out how quiet I had been that I realized I hadn't stopped thinking of Mom and Nathan throughout dinner.
The Lobster Pot had the best seafood in town, and here I was wasting a perfectly good date and meal.
I flicked a grain of rice off the skirt of my emerald-green with black tulle, sleeveless, scoop-neck dress. "I'm sorry. I'm preoccupied with Mo…bakery stuff." I didn't want to trouble Will with my problems. No, that wasn't true. The subject of Mom and Nathan just felt so personal and private that I didn't want to share just yet.
"That's understandable. You're a big-time businesswoman now." He flashed that expensive orthodontic smile.
I smiled and tried to relax. Will was a gentle and kind man, and I really liked him. On our first date, he had picked me up at Grams' with a brown wicker basket in hand. He'd planned a picnic on the beach because one day at the bakery I'd mentioned in passing how much I loved them. He hadn't known my favorite foods yet, so he'd packed a bunch of appetizers—deviled eggs, cream cheese–stuffed celery sticks, ham and cheese balls, and fruit cups. He'd said he'd chosen them because the appetizers were always his favorite part of a meal, and those items were the foods his grandmother remembered serving during the 1950s. One of the eras that filled my closet.
It had been so sweet and thoughtful, I'd instantly agreed to a second date when he asked. I had shared that I dressed this way because I loved the styles of the past and not because I wanted to be June Cleaver or Mrs. Brady. I'd also shared that my favorite food was sushi, and that was where he took me on our second date—a small sushi restaurant in Seattle after a day trip of ferry rides.
The only problem with our relationship was that even though Will was good-looking and physically appealing, I had yet to experience that knocked-knee, sweaty-palm feeling.
"Is anything else troubling you?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine," I lied. Why didn't I just tell him that I believed someone had deliberately killed Nathan, or that I feared the dead man had had an affair with my mom? What did it say about me or us that I kept quiet?
He placed his hand over mine, and I nearly flinched. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I chalked it up to the stress of the past week.
"You want to get out of here?" he asked.
"Yes. Please."
He signaled for the server. After paying the check, he held the door open for me, and we stepped outside onto the pier.
The best part of Danger Cove was the marina. Just how Main Street consisted of small, privately owned shops and boutiques, the pier was the same. Many people preferred the lazy stretches of beach or the lighthouse farther down the coast. And there were also caves and rumors of buried treasure, but I'd never given them any mind. Pirates didn't do it for me. Not even Johnny Depp's portrayal. No, to me the pi
er was the best.
Will and I walked across the wooden planks to the railing, and I stared out at a two-story boat docked nearby. I always wondered what it would be like to live on the sea. I assumed I'd get used to the rocking and swaying. There was something so freeing about taking off in your home and docking anywhere in the world. I hadn't done much traveling. I loved Danger Cove, and other than trips to Seattle and up and down the coast of California and Oregon, I'd never felt the need or desire to go elsewhere.
"It's beautiful here," Will whispered beside me.
"Yes, it is." It was nice that we shared a love of the pier.
His fingers gripped mine. It was a comforting feeling. It made me feel at ease and content. Considering the craziness of the past week, this was good.
Familiar voices sounded behind us.
I turned and locked gazes with Jared.
He gave me a lopsided smile.
My breath caught, and I slipped my hand from Will's.
"Hi," Jared said. He wore jeans and a blue-white-and-red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His hair was slightly windblown, and the toes of his brown work boots were scuffed. He made casual look…sexy.
Guilt covered every inch of me. I hated admitting this, even to just myself and especially with my boyfriend standing right beside me, but it was hard to ignore.
I took several steps closer, feeling drawn to him. That was when I realized he wasn't alone but with his mother.
"Riley, dear. You look fantastic. How are you?" Mrs. Politano asked and pulled me in for a tight hug.
"Fine. Thank you. How are you?"
She looked cheery. Dark curls framed her face, and she had one gray streak that started at her middle part and looped through several curls to her ear. It was the only sign that she was aging. She still looked incredibly young. Maybe all that olive oil was beneficial to her skin, even if not to my waistline. In high school, she'd always smelled like tomato sauce. Jared used to joke that she'd kept a bottle of it on her dresser and would splash some on for date night with his father.
"We're doing well. You need to come by and have some pizza. You look too thin."
She obviously hadn't seen my ass.
Will joined us and shook hands with them. "It's good to see you again, Jared. How long are you in town for?"
Jared quirked an eyebrow in my direction. "Riley didn't tell you? I'm back for good."
Crap. I'd forgotten to mention that, hadn't I?
Will pursed his lips, then nodded. "I see. No, she didn't mention it. It must not have been important."
Jared smirked. I sucked in a breath. Mrs. Politano widened her eyes but just for a moment. She had too much class to point out someone's lack thereof.
"You know, with the death and all," Will quickly added, but not quick enough. His intent was obvious.
Mrs. Politano looked from Jared to me and then wrapped her hand around her son's bicep. "Well, Riley, you're on a date, and we don't want to intrude. It was great seeing you again. Don't be a stranger."
"I won't," I said, not wanting them to go. I loved the easiness of hanging out with the Politanos. I'd missed them. I needed to make time to visit them soon.
"No, she won't, especially since I'm back," Jared said. "I'm sure we'll be spending a lot of time together."
I shut my eyes and made a mental note to kill Jared next time we were alone. When I opened them, Will was staring at me, and he didn't look pleased. This jealousy was insane. I hadn't brought up the funeral public display of affection like I'd planned. I kinda hoped it would just go away. I really hated confrontations. But I needed to pull up my big-girl panties and get it over with. Eventually.
We all said good-bye, and each pair turned away from the other.
Will started talking about the boats on the horizon, abruptly changing the subject and thankfully not bringing up Jared's dig. I barely paid attention. Instead, I glanced back and watched Jared and his mom walk off. Just before I turned back to the water, Jared's head moved.
He looked back and caught my eye.
I smiled at him, but he didn't do the same. His look was intense, unlike any I'd ever seen before.
* * *
On the drive back to Grams', I mulled over how to bring up this jealousy Will had with Jared, but I didn't want to call it that in case Will got defensive or offended. By the time we arrived at my front door, I still hadn't pulled up those panties. Maybe I could wait until another time.
I pushed my key into the lock and said, "I had a great time."
"It doesn't have to end now. How about I come in, and we can have coffee. Listen to some music."
He wanted romance, and I wanted my pillow and blankets.
"Hope you don't mind saying good-night now. I'm wiped," I said.
"Of course," he said, but his clenched jaw and pursed lips suggested he was annoyed. He leaned in for a kiss, and instinctively I turned my head, resulting in a peck on my cheek.
I widened my eyes and made a small gasping sound. I hadn't meant to do that. I was just annoyed with myself for not being braver.
He shot his head back. His brows furrowed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…I just…I, uh, I…" What the heck was I saying?
He folded his arms over his chest. "Is this about Jared?"
A fire lit within me, and all the smoldering sparked. "As a matter of fact, it is, but not in the way you think. What's going on between you and Jared?"
He pointed to his throat. "Me? I'm not the one forgetting to mention how your best friend—the one you've barely spoken to in the past year but still hold to such high esteem—has moved back to town."
I scoffed. "What's the big deal? I simply forgot. Excuse me for not thinking clearly after discovering a dead body."
His intense gaze wavered.
"And I wasn't the one trying to make out at the funeral today," I said, noting my slight exaggeration but stubbornly not wanting to take it back.
"I was kissing you good-bye. Like I just attempted. Since when can't I kiss you in front of your friends?"
"You never tried before because you don't like public displays of affection. Holding hands is as far as you go. You said that on our second date."
He opened his mouth and stammered.
"So why is it that suddenly Jared's around and you feel the need to shove your tongue down my throat?"
The hurt look in his eyes made me realize I'd taken it one step too far. Crap.
I shook my head and glanced out to the street. "Look, I'm sorry. I just don't understand this macho thing. I don't get the need to have to prove something. I'm with you."
I didn't bother to point out how unattractive his insecurities were either.
He put a sly smile on his face. "Most women would be flattered a guy wanted to protect what was his."
I narrowed my gaze. "I'm not most women, and I'm not yours. I'm dating you, but I'm not your property."
"Of course."
I wasn't quite certain he really agreed with me though. Was Will attracted to me because my clothing style suggested I thought the 1950s was a swell time? I was sure it had been when it came to malt sodas and drive-ins, and yes, I had a deep passion for baking, but I wasn't and never would be the li'l miss, content with having a man take care of her. I wanted an equal partner.
Neither of us had anything to say after that. Well, I had nothing nice to say. So we said our good-byes, and I went inside.
The house was chilly, too chilly. I went upstairs, kicked off my heels by my bedroom door, and felt a breeze from Grams' room. Was she back? She was known for turning on a fan when it wasn't needed, like in the middle of winter. Living with her when she went through menopause had been torture, to say the least. She'd kept the AC on all the time. I'd had to put a hoodie on when I entered the house in the summer. And in the winter, I'd walked around with my comforter around my shoulders. Thank goodness that was over.
Her room was dark. I flipped the wall switch. The bedside lamp wen
t on. Nope, she was still gone. This must've been a great friend if she couldn't return for a murder. I pulled my phone out of my purse and dialed her number.
It went straight to voice mail. I left a quick message telling her to call me ASAP, and then I texted, for the added dramatic affect.
When are you coming home?
My phone buzzed before I returned it to my purse.
Are you okay?
So she was near her phone and chose not to answer? I had a bone to pick with that woman. I replied: I'm fine, but I need to talk to you about Nathan and mom. Call me.
I stood there and waited for her response, but none ever came. That only confirmed she knew something about the two. And it was probably something I didn't want to hear, like how Mom and Nathan were involved. Eww, gross. Not because he was gross, at least not thirty-something years ago. Just because Mom getting it on with anyone contained images a child never wanted to imagine.
Chills raked up my arms, and I looked up to see the curtain at Grams' front window blow. It was open halfway. I shut it and was about to turn to go to my room when a car outside caught my attention. It was a white Toyota Camry just like Max's. Why was he here? Was he watching me?
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day, the bakery had exactly two customers. Jared for his morning muffin and coffee before school and Elizabeth Ashby for an afternoon cinnamon bun. No one else entered the bakery, not even Officer Fred Fields, who'd never gone a day without a treat. At least we still had our custom order with Ocean View Bed & Breakfast. But that wasn't enough to pay the bills.
When Amber arrived to work, I almost told her to take the day off, but I knew she needed the income, even if we couldn't afford to pay her. Plus, and maybe this was pretty chickenshit of me, I didn't want to stay until Mrs. Hendrickson came in. My date with Will had been so weird I was certain he'd told his grandmother, and Mrs. Hendrickson would give me a lecture and interrogation. Not necessarily in that order. I doubted I'd ever understand Mrs. Hendrickson and her grandson's close bond. If Grams grilled any of my boyfriends, I'd… Well, there was no reason to even finish that thought. Grams was too busy with her own love life to butt into mine.
Death by Scones Page 8
