Stargazey Point
Page 24
Abbie resisted the urge to step back. Instead she stepped forward, confronting the man and his stinking breath and trying to push him out of the room.
“We’re closed for the day. I’ll have to ask you to come back tomorrow and speak with the director.” She didn’t expect him to leave, but she thought it might befuddle him long enough for her to signal the twins to run.
Abbie took another step, gradually working the man back into the hallway. From the corner of her eye she could see Kyle pulling the twins farther into the room.
“I come for them kids,” he slurred, looking around her to the two frightened children. Abbie could hear one of them mewling, and she saw red.
“Well, you can’t have them,” she said without breaking eye contact. “Dani, Joe, Kyle, go out the back door and get Mr. Cab.”
“Don’t’chu move.”
The uncle lurched forward; they screamed and moved farther back into the room.
Abbie lunged for his arm and held on. “Go!” she cried. Kyle took one frightened look back at the twins and shot past the drunken man and was gone.
Price was drunk, but he was strong, and he flung Abbie out of the way like a piece of lint.
He grabbed for the twins; they jumped out of his way and he fell against the counter. He struggled to gain his balance and knocked two cassette players onto the floor. Plastic and metal and batteries exploded across the room.
Abbie threw herself between them. “Stop, damn you. You’re trespassing.”
He lurched forward and pulled the old video camera onto the floor. “Shut your skinny white mouth or I’ll shut it for you.” He stalked toward the twins. “Come here, ya little bastards, I come to get ya.”
Abbie grabbed one of the video games and flung it at his head. It barely slowed him down.
“Cain’t keep ’em from me. I’m their legal guardian. Ain’t I?”
“Not if I can help it.”
He grabbed a stool and threw it at her.
She jumped aside, then lunged for the man, hoping it would give the twins time to run. But Dani pulled Joe toward the window away from the door. Abbie just hoped, prayed, that Kyle actually went for help and wasn’t hiding somewhere in fear.
“Puttin’ all kinds of nonsense in their heads. Fill ’em up with stupid ideas. They ain’t never gonna amount to nothin’ are you, ya little bastards. So leave ’em alone, leave ’em all alone.”
He started to turn and Abbie caught him in the forehead with a second video game.
He fell against the counter, stunned. Then he got mad. He grabbed the VCR and swept it to the floor.
He was destroying all their equipment. Their ancient, decrepit equipment.
The only equipment they had.
“No!” she screamed just as he hurled the editing machine to the floor. It bounced and landed with a thud, barely missing the twins.
“Damn you, damn you.” Abbie grabbed the nearest stool and swung it at his head. She was vaguely aware of footsteps running across the front porch. The door opening and banging shut.
“In here!” she cried and moved to the door to block the drunk’s escape.
Suddenly aware that someone was coming, the drunk man lunged past her and into the hallway only to be stopped in his tracks by Cab Reynolds’s fist.
The man reeled back, and Beau pushed him to the ground, where he lay moaning.
“Where’s Kyle?” Abbie asked.
“He’s safe,” Cab said. “We sent him to Hadley’s to call the police. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.”
“If he hurt you, I’ll beat the crap out of him,” said Cabot.
“And I’ll hold him down while Cab does it,” Beau added.
The twins rushed to her, clawing frantically at her. She knelt down, gathered them up. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”
“We don’t wanna go with him,” Dani wailed.
“You don’t have to,” Abbie said. Surely not even social services would allow him to take them back after what had just happened.
The police were just taking the twins’ uncle away when Sarah and Otis drove up.
“What the hell happened? Is that Eddie Price? Damn him. Where are Dani and Joe? Are they okay?”
“We’re here, Miss Sarah,” Dani said from the computer table where Hadley was feeding Kyle and the twins Cokes and Cheez Doodles.
“We’re all doin’ fine,” Hadley said. “You just go on and take care of business.”
“What business?” Sarah asked, looking from Cab to Abbie to Beau.
“The police are going to keep him overnight on drunk and disorderly. Abbie’s a witness to his attempt to harm his wards. And you are going over tomorrow to press charges for destruction of property.”
“What property?” Sarah asked, looking around.
“All the equipment,” Abbie said and stepped aside as Sarah rushed into the media room.
“Son of a bitch. He’s gonna pay for this.” Sarah leaned against the wall so fast she smacked the back of her head. “All that work, all that effing work on old useless equipment, and some effing drunk has to destroy even that. What the hell is the point? Hours of studying and filling out forms for nothing. Effing . . . stupid . . .”
“Take a breath and calm down,” Cab said.
Sarah turned on him. “Eff you, too. Calm down? I’ll calm down. I quit. I’m going back to New York. You can’t volunteer to do something with nothing forever. I have real work to do back in New York.”
“You can’t just up and abandon these kids.”
“Why not? It won’t ever change. Jerome’s father refused to sign his application papers. Talia barely passed her SATs. The equipment is wrecked. What’s the damn point? Nothing will ever change around here.”
Abbie slumped against the door frame. How many times had she felt like giving up. Said the exact same things: what’s the point, nothing will ever change. And maybe it wouldn’t, but Abbie knew she would keep trying.
“You can’t leave,” Abbie said. “At least not like this. The twins’ uncle said they’d never amount to anything, and if you go, you’ll prove him right. Is that what you want?”
Sarah turned on her. “Advice like that from you?” Her eyes widened, her mouth opened. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right about me. But don’t you make the same mistake. It will haunt you forever. I didn’t have a choice; my work was snatched away. But you do have a choice. You can make a difference.”
Sarah groaned. “I feel a rendition of Up with People coming on.”
Abbie grinned. “Was I pontificating?”
“A bit. And as much as I hate to say it, you’re probably right. But look at this shit. What are we going to do with them for the whole summer?”
“We’ll think of something.”
“Uh-huh. Well, let’s think of it tomorrow after I get back from the police station. I’ll get Otis and Jerome to cart this crap away in the morning.”
Cab drove Abbie and Beau home, though none of them felt much like talking.
Beau and Abbie agreed not to mention the break-in to Millie, although they did tell Marnie. And Abbie went upstairs right after supper. She’d been pretty unnerved by the whole thing. And there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. She stood looking out at the stars and the dark waves for a long time, thinking about Sarah and about herself. And trying to erase the image of Eddie Price from her
mind. And she came to a decision.
She went inside, pulled her largest suitcase out of the closet, and hoisted it to the bed. Grasped the metal zipper pull and worked the zipper around the case.
She should have done this before, but she was being selfish. She needed to start thinking about someone beside herself. The choice was hers: continue to hold on to the past or set herself free. She knew what she needed to do.
She opened the suitcase and reached inside.
Chapter 20
Only Marnie and the cat were in the kitchen when Abbie came down the next morning. Marnie was at the stove cooking sausage; Moses sat at her feet, looking up expectantly.
“Millie’s taken to her room over that damn silver. Beau ran out before seven. Since he’s not fishing, I assume he and Cabot are working overtime.”
“You know about the carousel?”
“Of course. I, unlike my sister, live in reality. She was never one much for reality even as a child. Worshipped our father, the bastard.” Marnie shook herself. “Don’t know why we’re talking about that.
“So it’s just me, you, and Moses this morning.” She stopped to study Abbie’s face. Nodded. “Looks like you’ve begun sleeping through the nights.”
She speared the sausages, dropped them onto a plate, slipped bread into the toaster, and carried sausages to the table while Moses did his best to trip her up on the way.
“Have I? I guess I have.” Abbie got a cup from the cupboard. “More coffee?”
“Please. So what are you going to do this morning?”
Abbie shrugged. “Garden, then I guess I’ll go down to the center early. See if anything can be salvaged.”
“Do you think it can?”
“Honestly? No. It was barely working to begin with.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”
Abbie smiled, but she didn’t feel nearly as optimistic. They’d been working on a wing and a prayer before the destruction of the equipment. This was more than a setback.
Anger swelled inside her, at Eddie Price, his ignorance, his poverty, his fear. But anger didn’t make things right. Surely she’d learned that in the last months. What she needed was a clear head and a plan.
Marnie pushed the plate of sausages toward her. “You’re banned from the garden today. But you can take a basket of lettuce to Penny for me on your way to the center, if you don’t mind. She was running low, and I just happen to have a surplus.” She pushed back her chair. “I’d better get that lettuce picked.”
Abbie started for town a half hour later with a canvas carryall over her shoulder and a basket of crisp green lettuce in the crook of her arm.
The village seemed busier today. Several cars were parked along the street. The real estate office was open. A woman was washing windows at the antiques store next to the inn.
The sound of the vacuum cleaner met Abbie as she stepped into the inn. Bethanne was down on hands and knees running the wand beneath the Queen Anne sofa. Abbie waited until she stood up then yelled her name over the whine of the vacuum.
Bethanne saw her and shut it off. “Hey. I heard what happened last night. Is everybody all right?”
“More or less.”
“That Eddie Price is a poor excuse for a human being. I hate to think of the twins being returned to him.”
“So do I. I’m hoping that his behavior will make social services pull his foster status.”
“They certainly should. Where are you going with all that lettuce?”
“To Penny’s. I stopped by to see if you wanted to go for coffee.”
“I’d love to. Let me just get my purse.”
Spring break,” Bethanne said as they walked to the tea shop. “Most of my rooms are booked for the weekend. Penny convinced me to put an ad with a coupon in the Beaufort, Georgetown, and Charleston papers. Between that and the website Jerome designed, I’m getting a lot of traffic.”
“Does it stay busy from now through the summer?”
“Fingers crossed. Things calm down a bit during the week, but the weekends should be pretty steady. There have been some articles about the beaches replenishing, so hopefully we’ll pick up some tourist traffic because of it.”
She waved to the window washer. “That’s Geraldine Fanning. She owns and runs the antiques shop. She’ll be opening Thursday through Sunday until June. Then seven days a week after that.”
Bethanne held the door while Abbie angled her way into the tea shop. Several tables were occupied, and a man was leaving with a cardboard tray holding four cups.
“Dom,” Bethanne said, her face lighting up. “Here midweek? To what do we owe this?”
Dom smiled, showing perfectly even white teeth. He was in his midforties. His hair was stylishly long, and he was wearing khakis and a pin-striped shirt open at the collar. He gave Bethanne a kiss on the cheek.
“Rotating the exhibits. Bringing some classical seascapes down for next week. Spring. A time for redecorating.” He lifted his eyebrows. “And what better than a seascape over that new couch.” His smile broadened, a mixture of charm and irony.
“Abbie, this is Dominic Gaillard. Dom, this is Abbie Sinclair; she’s visiting the Crispins.”
Dominic nodded with an elegance that made the gesture a bow. “I’d shake hands but as you see . . .” He lifted the tray.
“Dom is the owner of the Gaillard Gallery across the street.”
Abbie nodded. She’d wondered how an art gallery managed to stay in business here. Having met the owner, she imagined that he sold on pure charisma.
“And don’t listen to anything he says. He has wonderful pieces on display.”
Dom turned his smile on Bethanne. “Saw your ad in the Courier. I’m thinking about taking one out myself. Now I must get going. The troops will mutiny if their cappuccinos are cold.”
“Does he live around here?” Abbie asked as she watched Dom hurry down the sidewalk.
“He has a gallery in Charleston, too, but he spends most of the summer here.”
Penny came from behind the counter to relieve Abbie of her basket of lettuce. “Bless you. And thank Marnie beaucoodles. Sit down. Just give me a minute to put this away.”
Bethanne waved to two women sitting in the corner. “They run the gift and souvenir shop.” She sat down. “I always love this time of year. Before the tourists come and everyone is gearing up for the season.” She sighed. “It always seems so hopeful.”
“Well, I predict this season will be wonderful,” said Abbie with forced enthusiasm. This end of town might turn into a quaint little seaside resort, but it made her end of town seem all the shabbier.
“Bethanne, why don’t they fix up the other part of town? Everyone has to pass through it to get to the beach, don’t they?”
“Pretty much, and it is an eyesore. But what can you do? The pier can’t be salvaged, and the town can’t afford to rebuild it. Several of the buildings were abandoned by their owners. They’ve been begging Hadley just to paint the front façade, and he just won’t budge. I don’t understand why he has to be so stubborn.”
Abbie thought she knew. Hadley was holding on to what he knew, where he was comfortable, with the only thing he had left.
Penny brought new-looking menus. “I recommend the blueberry crumb cake. It’s darn good if I do say so myself.”
They ordered the crumb cake.
“I’ve got to stop eating like this,” Abbie said. “Between Millie’s cooking and Penny’s desserts . . .”
“You might be in danger of fitting back in your clothes.”
“I’m beginning to.” Abbie had bought the jeans after she returned from South America. She’d lost weight and continued to lose since then. Stress and grief and anger could do that to you. She took it as a good sign that she was on her way back from despair. Marnie was r
ight; she hadn’t had a nightmare or an overwhelming attack of grief in days.
Bethanne reached out. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, actually. Yeah. I think I am.”
Bethanne smiled, but she looked a little sad. “It’s hard to let go, isn’t it? You’re going along and suddenly you realize that you weren’t sad for five minutes, then one day it’s several hours and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, and if you deserve to be happy.”
Abbie just looked at her. “Why wouldn’t you deserve to be happy?”
Bethanne shrugged. “It just seems like cheating.”
Penny deposited plates and cups on the table. “You two don’t look like you’re looking forward to my spec-i-al-i-ty. I know what happened last night at the center. Ran into Kyle’s mama at the market this morning. But it isn’t all bad. You and Sarah will think of something. Now eat.” She bustled away.
They spent the next few minutes digging into the rich cake, moist with berries.
“Have you thought any about our conversation at the gazebo?” Bethanne asked. “About Weddings by the Sea.”
“Sort of.”
“I could use a partner.”
“Me?” Abbie shook her head. “Bethanne, I appreciate it, but you need someone who knows what she’s doing.”
“I need someone who knows how important the inn and Weddings by the Sea is to me. It was Jim’s and my dream.” She smiled tremulously. “You could live at the inn for free.”
Abbie had toyed with the idea herself, but only for a second.
Bethanne sighed. “It was just an idea.”
Penny appeared at the table. “I’m seeing frowns over here. You two don’t want people to think you don’t like my blueberry crumb cake, do you?”
Abbie shot her a relieved look. “The crumb cake is delicious.”
“That’s what I thought.” Penny gave Bethanne a look. “And what about you?”
“Yummy. It really is.”
“That’s better. Now no more frowning. Summer is almost upon us. Time’s a-wasting.”
As Abbie walked back to the center she thought about Bethanne’s proposition. Weddings by the Sea. Somehow she didn’t think Werner would approve of using his insurance money to start a wedding business.