“Come inside,” Dax said. “We’ll be drenched in no time.”
He and Kara made their way across the lawn like they were in a three-legged race. Once they reached the protection of the awning, introductions and handshakes ensued. Brody studied the older man. He had astute but kind eyes and a firm, steady handshake. No calluses—a surgeon’s hands.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I enjoyed watching you play this year.” Dax had a warm, soothing voice.
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Brody said.
“And you’re the young lady who was clever enough to find me,” Dax said to Kara.
“I only found the detective. He did all the work,” Kara said.
She was so pretty when she blushed.
“Call me Dax, please. Come on in. My daughter, Mary, is inside making us some lunch.”
Dax held the door open for them and they filed in one after the other. High ceilings and exposed beams gave the house an urban, masculine feel. Outside the picture windows, the Pacific raged in a shade of stormy gray.
“This is my daughter, Mary,” Dax said once they’d reached the kitchen. A young blond woman was making sandwiches.
Mary shook their hands and gave them a tight smile. She wore a shirt dress and black boots. Her slender frame and delicate bone structure made him think of a bird.
“She favors your mom,” Flora said.
“My wife always thought so,” Dax said.
“I look like my mother.” Mary pointed to a photograph on the wall. “That’s her.” The woman in the photograph sat on a blanket at the beach. She appeared to be laughing as she looked up at whoever was taking the picture. Given Mary’s sour expression, the resemblance was hard to see.
Dax put his hand on Flora’s shoulder. “What do say we talk in my study? We can catch up without boring the kids.”
Flora’s light blue eyes darted over to Brody. He nodded, as if he had any right to say no. He’d already learned his lesson with that one. Plus, it seemed obvious this guy wasn’t a serial killer.
“We’ll stay and get acquainted with Mary,” Kara said.
But neither of the older people seemed to care what they did or didn’t do. They had eyes only for each other as they left the kitchen. He turned to Mary. What should he say?
“Shall we eat?” Mary asked. “God only knows how long they’ll be gone.” Her brittle tone hid little of her annoyance about this reunion.
“A sandwich sounds great,” Kara said. She offered to help finish lunch, but Mary said it was already done. He and Kara took seats across from each other at a table set with placemats and silverware for five. A pitcher of lemonade sweated onto the tablecloth. Mary set a tray of sandwiches near Brody and took the seat on the other end. They sat in awkward silence for a couple of seconds that felt like minutes until Kara spoke. “These look wonderful. Thank you. We left early this morning and haven’t eaten much.”
“I’m not much of a cook,” Mary said.
The sandwich consisted of a piece of turkey and cheese slapped together between dry sourdough bread. There were no condiments or lettuce. She wasn’t kidding about being a bad cook. He hadn’t realized it was possible to make a sandwich this dry and tasteless. His first bite stuck in the back of his throat. He reached for the lemonade.
“So, tell me, Brody,” Mary said. “What do you think of all this?”
“You mean Dax and Flora?”
“Yes. It was a million years ago,” Mary said. “Why now?”
“Because she’s never forgotten him. The way they were torn apart wasn’t fair to either of them, and she wants a chance to explain what happened,” Brody said.
“And they share a son,” Kara said.
“Yes, my surprise brother.” Mary shifted in her chair and crossed her long arms over her chest. Despite that fact that her personality could turn a grown man to ice, she was pretty. Strategic blond highlights framed her fine-boned face and her green, almond-shaped eyes were fringed with thick lashes. She was too thin for his taste, but it gave her an elegance and aloofness that he knew drove some men wild.
“I don’t know why people have to drum up the past,” Mary said. “What’s done is done.”
“They were in love once,” Kara said. “And torn apart through no fault of their own. I think it’s natural to want to have the chance to talk through what happened. I would want that.”
“Anyone would,” Brody said. A surge of gratitude flooded him. Kara was the best.
“But it’s hard, right?” Kara asked. “To see your father with a woman he loved before he loved your mother?”
Mary didn’t say anything for a moment. She picked apart her sandwich and put it back together. “We were very close.”
Brody nodded, instantly sympathetic. “I lost my dad a couple years ago. My mother’s dating someone now, and it’s driving me insane.”
“Well, they’re not dating. They won’t date,” Mary said. “They’re seeing each other for an hour or two this afternoon and then everyone resumes their own lives.”
“Right. I just meant that I get it,” Brody said.
“Tell us about your work, Mary. You’re a librarian, isn’t that right?” Kara asked.
“How did you know you that?” Mary’s mouth went back to a straight line.
“When the private detective called to say he’d found your father, he mentioned it,” Kara said.
“I see. I’m actually between jobs right now. The school I was working for lost funding and they eliminated my position.”
“That’s too bad,” Kara said. “Kids need libraries.”
“They do,” Mary said. “But our society doesn’t believe in funding anything but technology these days. The computer lab is intact, but no more librarian. I suppose that’s how this detective found us so quickly. Technology.”
“I’m not sure what methods he used.” Kara smiled. “He told me he never reveals his secrets. But yes, with technology, it’s hard to be untraceable.” Had he imagined the hollow note that had come into Kara’s voice?
“These days I suppose it is,” Mary said. “My father was thrilled when he got the call. I thought it was odd, and, quite frankly, suspicious. He’s worth a lot of money. She wouldn’t be the first old lady to come after him for his money.”
“She’s not after him.” Brody tugged at the collar of his sweater. This woman was starting to piss him off. “Flora’s not like that. She simply wanted to see him. Plus, she has all the money she needs from me.”
“I don’t get it,” Mary said. “Doesn’t she work for you as a housekeeper?”
“She worked for my family for thirty years. Past tense. She’s family to us. She lives with me. As does my mother. My brother invested her money wisely. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was worth more than your father. You have nothing to worry about.”
“You live with your mother?” One corner of Mary’s mouth twitched.
He bet this woman was the mean type of librarian. She made kids cry and hate books.
“My mother lives with me,” Brody said.
Mary cocked her head to the side. “And what is it you do?”
Kara laughed. “You don’t know?”
“Flora didn’t tell you?” Brody asked.
“No. She told my father the man she works for, and thinks of as a son, was bringing her here,” Mary said. “Which, if you want to know the truth, sounded really weird.”
“Why?” Kara asked.
Yeah, why was that weird?
Mary folded and unfolded her napkin. “Because staff is not family, and I certainly wouldn’t accompany them on some strange trip to meet their high school boyfriend.”
“Brody Mullen’s the best quarterback in the AFL,” Kara said. “He won the Super Bowl last February with a sixty-yard throw.”
Finally, they’d shaken her. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “I don’t watch football.”
Kara chuckled. “I guess not. Still, it’s hard not to know who he is. His photographs are all over g
ossip magazines, advertisements, not to mention the AFL ads.”
Yeah, we think you’re weird, Mary Hansen. So stuff it.
“I don’t follow popular culture. There are way too many good books to read,” Mary said.
This woman must live under a rock with all her books.
“Good for you.” Kara smiled, her brown eyes radiating warmth tinged with pity.
She feels sorry for Mary. What did she see that he didn’t? All he saw was a snooty, skinny, uptight witch. Talk about a resting bitch face.
“We should all spend more time reading than following popular culture,” Kara said. “Brody reads a lot.”
She’d noticed? A twinge of happiness crawled up the back of his spine.
“Books?” Mary asked.
“On his tablet, but last time I checked, that counts,” Kara said. How was it possible to be so nice all the time? Kara had the patience of Mother Theresa.
“Self-help type books?” Mary asked. “Or those motivational books for athletes about how to set goals and that kind of thing?”
Did she assume that because he was an athlete he was not smart enough to enjoy fiction?
“I read mostly thrillers now,” Brody said. “But I’ve read all the classics. I have a degree in English Literature.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kara said.
They exchanged a quick smile.
“A football player who reads?” Mary asked. “That’s a rarity, isn’t it?”
Brody pushed his plate a few inches toward the middle of the table. Any hunger was long gone. Mary Hansen had just tweaked his last nerve. “Not really.”
Mary rose from her chair and went to the windows that looked out to the stretch of beach. Famous Haystack Rock stood proudly as waves splashed against its mighty sides. “Where are you staying in town?” Mary asked.
“A place called the Ocean Beach Lodge,” Kara said. “Is it nice?”
“Very. One of the best.” She turned to Brody. “Is that how it is for rich football players? Only the best.”
“I treat my family to the best, yes,” Brody said.
“Well, I’m relieved that Flora’s not some gold digger after Dad’s money.”
On cue, Flora and Dax entered the kitchen. Flora’s cheeks were flushed pink. Dax’s eyes were red.
Brody stood. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, we’re fine, but we need to get out of the house for a bit. We have a lot to work through,” Dax said.
“Don’t count on me for dinner,” Flora said. “I’ll check into my room later.”
Kara had come to stand near Brody. She tugged the sleeve of his sweater as she spoke. “No problem. We’ll just see you back at the hotel later.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, we’ll be on our way then,” Brody said. Another minute with this sour woman was about all he could take. He told Flora he’d leave a key to her room at the front desk. After thanking Mary for lunch and the other typical polite pleasantries, he and Kara escaped from Mary’s penetrating gaze.
He had to hold back from making a run for it. Given Kara’s rapid pace, he figured she felt the same way. The minute they were in the car, they started to laugh.
“Holy crap, that was uncomfortable,” Brody said.
“She does not want Flora anywhere near her dad,” Kara said. “I mean, it’s understandable, given everything, but she’s a most unpleasant person.”
Chapter Thirty
Kara
A crackling fire in the lobby of the Ocean Beach Lodge warmed the back of Kara’s legs as Brody checked them into their rooms. Mary was right about one thing. This was a beautiful lodge. Built in the style of the grand lodges of the 1940s with high beams and rustic furnishings, the lobby smelled of wood smoke and freshly baked cookies.
After they were checked in, they walked up the winding staircase to the third floor. They stood awkwardly at the door to Kara’s room, the rapport from the car having vanished.
Brody handed her the key card for her room. “I’ll keep Flora’s key for now. Who knows when she’ll be back.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
Kara swiped her key across the handle. When the green light flashed, she propped the door open with one foot before turning back to Brody. What to do now? Were they going to make plans for dinner?
“I have a few phone calls to make,” Brody said.
“Sure. I’ll just see you later then.”
“Fine. Good. Yeah, see you later.” He picked up his suitcase and started for his door. Before he disappeared, she went inside her room. What had Honor said? Go first? Always better to leave before you’re left.
She set her suitcase near the bed and went out on the veranda to take in the view of the famous Haystack Rock Beach. It did indeed look like a haystack. She shivered. The wind whipped through her hair and her jacket. Chilled, she decided to go inside and take a bubble bath.
Delighted to see it was a jet tub, she filled it as high as it would go with water as hot as she could stand. With her neck propped on a towel, she closed her eyes. They’d gotten up early for their flight and she was tired.
Was that it? Merely tired?
No. It was sadness that made her want to disappear under the covers and not get out ever again. Flora was well enough that she no longer needed a nurse. After this trip, she would have to leave. The thought of it felt like a death. But there were no more excuses. She’d passed the medical exam. It was time to put resumes out to hospitals in California. She would let the job dictate the place she lived, rather than the other way around.
Her phone buzzed. She wiped her hand dry with the closest towel and grabbed her phone. Brody.
I’m done with my calls and feeling restless. You want to go into town and look around?
She replied, yes. The moment she hit send, she was filled with apprehension. What were they doing here? She knew they should not spend time together, especially when they were in this romantic town and this cozy lodge. One thing could so easily lead to another.
She got dressed anyway.
THEY STROLLED ALONG the main street of Cannon Beach, passing a bookstore, a kite shop, multiple restaurants, and various clothing stores. When they came to the display window of the local candy store, they stopped to watch taffy being made. Thick pink candy swirled and stretched like a long tongue around a machine that reminded her of a pasta maker, only eight times as large. After a moment, they grew tired of it and agreed to check out the bookstore. They browsed the staff recommendations. Each bought a book—a new thriller for Brody and a mystery for Kara.
“This is the perfect town to read in front of the fireplace.” Brody asked as they walked outside.
She didn’t answer. It wasn’t a good idea to think too much about what it would feel like to snuggle up next to Brody on the couch and read a book.
They spent the rest of the afternoon popping in and out of shops, keeping the conversation casual and benign. She was surprised and relieved that no one appeared to recognize him. When she mentioned it to him, he shrugged it off. “I’m not a movie star.”
“But still, I would’ve thought people would come up to you.”
“I’ve found that most people are too shy to approach. They might think it’s me, but be afraid to ask. I appreciate it, anyway. What a drag it would be to be stopped all the time.”
Brody bought a kite shaped like a dragon. Kara bought a thick knit sweater at the woman’s clothing store in the middle of town. It was too easy to spend time with Brody, like they were a couple. She couldn’t lie to herself for long. Being by his side felt right. Do not get used to it. Soon it would be time to say goodbye.
It was nearing six when they agreed to find a place for dinner and stopped outside of an Italian restaurant to survey the menu. An older couple sat at the table by the window. Not just any couple, she realized with a jolt. It was Flora and Dax, holding hands across the table. A candle flickered, illuminating their faces.
Brody, next to her, squeezed her arm.
/> “Oh, crap,” he said. “Do they see us?”
“I don’t think so. Just back away. Pretend we don’t see them, just in case they see us.”
“I’ve never seen her look like that before.” Brody lingered.
She tugged on his sleeve. “Come on.”
“Voyeurism isn’t as fun as it sounds,” he said as they walked away.
“No Italian for us,” she said.
They chose the local brewery instead and were shown to a booth in the back. After ordering a beer and a burger, she sat back to survey the environment. The place was cozy, with high-backed wooden booths and walls decorated with beer emblems and local artwork. The scent of wood-fired pizza mingled with fermenting beer.
Brody sighed and rubbed his eyes. “This whole thing makes me sad.”
“Flora and Dax?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, but she understood. Flora would never get back the time she’d lost with the people she loved.
Was this her own fate? Would she die alone without a family of her own? The agency had told her that a normal life was possible. If she kept her secrets. But it didn’t seem possible to her. How could she ever have a relationship when she had to lie about almost every aspect of her former life?
“She deserved so much more,” Brody said.
“We have to accept the cards we’re dealt, as they say.” Kara played with the salt and pepper set, moving them like chess pieces across the table.
“What cards have you been dealt, Kara?”
The urgency in his voice caused her to look up at him. She shrugged. “Same as a lot of people, I suppose.”
“It seems to me you’ve been dealt a pretty good hand. You’re smart and great with people. Drop dead gorgeous.”
Her body tingled. Heat rushed to her legs.
“Sorry. There I go again.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You should have whatever you want in life.”
“For some of us, that’s not possible.” She pushed the salt and pepper shakers back to their rightful place on the table—next to the metal napkin holder and the ketchup and vinegar. Where was her rightful place?
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