The plain face of Tuesday Willis rose in his mind. Round cheeks. Mousy hair. Little to no makeup even though a makeup person had kept hovering over her. Pointless, really. She looked like the schoolteacher she was in those glasses. Makeup wouldn’t change that.
“It’s not because of the fact you used to eat dinner there sometimes with that teacher, Mrs… what was her name? That was a million years ago. That can’t be it.”
“That’s not it,” he lied.
Aidan shook his head. The meals he’d had in that old dining room had often just been chicken and sweet potatoes. Meatloaf. The family he’d shared the meal with was normal. Kind.
It hadn’t been a big deal, now that he looked back at those nights as a grown-ass man.
But the Callahan house had been his dream, and now it wasn’t.
“Fine,” said Liam. “Keep it to yourself, then.”
“Yep.”
In the dimness, Aidan could barely see his brother’s expression, but he could feel it.
It felt way too much like pity.
Chapter 5
T
he room at the bed and breakfast was dim, even when Tuesday switched on all the lights. She counted six of them, all with twee pink shades, and none of them more than twenty watts, apparently.
At least the WiFi was strong enough to run Skype.
She sat at the small rolltop desk which didn’t actually roll closed—it was fake like so many other things in the inn—and perched her laptop on a pile of books she’d brought with her. “Mom?”
“Hello?”
“Can you see me?”
“Honey?” The image over her mother’s photo continued to spin. “I can see you. Can you see me?”
“Click the camera icon.”
“I don’t know where that is. Ron? Help me!”
Tuesday blew out a breath. “It’s blue. It’s right under me on your screen.” She pointed downward, toward her right knee. “See it?”
“Oh! There it is.”
The screen went blank as her mother disconnected.
“Come on, Mom.” Tuesday made the call again.
“Honey! I pushed the button you told me to. Can you see me now?” Her mother pushed at her brown bob. “I don’t know why you have to look at me, anyway. Can’t I just look at you?”
“You look pretty, Mama.”
“Oh.” Margo Willis smiled. “Should I put on lipstick?”
“No way. You look great.” In the background, Tuesday heard her father say exactly the same thing. No way. You look great.
“You, too.” Her mother’s nose became huge as she leaned toward her camera. “Let me look at you.”
“I’ve only been gone two days.”
“It’s been forever.”
Tuesday took a deep breath, as if she were trying to inhale her mother’s gardenia perfume from here, more than two thousand miles away. “Is it snowing yet?”
Her father, invisible in the background, yelled, “Ninety-two today!”
Tuesday had left in the middle of the October heat wave, sure that as soon as she did, an early storm would blow through and break her heart. “I already miss snow.”
Her mother’s nose got closer. “You know, if we can have this weather, maybe you can have snow there sometime.”
Sometime.
That meant a while.
I want to come home.
She didn’t say it.
She didn’t even really mean it.
But the thought was there.
“How’s it going there, Mom?”
“Me?” Margo sat back in her chair, her hands pressed to her heart. “Us? There is nothing to report.”
Her father yelled, “I got the Studebaker running for thirteen seconds—”
“Nothing at all. We want to know about you. Have you seen the house?”
“I did.”
“Was it at all like the video they sent you?”
In the background her father shouted again, “Because if it wasn’t, we’ll sue!”
Both Tuesday and her mother sighed. Ron Willis had never brought a lawsuit against a single person, even though he loved to yell about it. He cheerfully threatened to sue the mayor for parking in the wrong spot, and the local grocer for running out of avocados. When Tuesday had been awarded her settlement, there had been no one more surprised than her father. Well, I’ll be damned. Something good came out of all that. See what I mean about suing?
“The house was better than the video.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I felt it when I opened the door.” Even though four different cameras at different angles had been trained on her, even though every word she’d spoken was being recorded, she hadn’t been able to stop the involuntary words from leaving her mouth: I’m home. “But I don’t know. Am I just letting myself get carried away?”
“Yes. Exactly.” Her mother nodded. “That’s just what you should do. Tell me more.”
“The top floor is going to be remade into one big bedroom, with a skylight. The kitchen is going to be opened up. We’ll need a new porch, because the old one is rotten. I—um—I kind of stuck my foot through it.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. And I heard a producer talking to the brothers about something may be wrong with the foundation.”
“The foundation?” her father roared.
“I think it’s cracked a little? Or needs shoring or something.” Or both. She’d read it in the reports, and she’d seen the line where it said what it would cost to fix. It had been a large number but no one seemed to be concerned about it.
A crease dug into her mother’s brow. “You signed all the papers?”
“Done deal. I own a house, foundation and all.”
“Well.” Her mother brightened. “Anything can be fixed.”
That was what her mother always said.
It was too bad it wasn’t true.
“What if I can’t find a job here?” Tuesday hadn’t done her research, not thoroughly enough. She should have made calls to the school district offices. She should have found out what attrition they were expecting, if they had current openings. But beyond a cursory internet search, she hadn’t. The school year had already started, after all. It wasn’t ideal timing.
She’d just packed six boxes of essentials and moved.
She’d moved.
Her heart rate picked up again. It kept doing that, and she was starting to find it annoying.
“Honey. Take a breath.”
“You always say that. It would be literally impossible for me to forget to breathe, you know that.”
“Just do it for me. Take a bigger one.”
Tuesday did. It didn’t help.
“You’ll find a job, honey.”
It was nice to hear, even if she didn’t quite believe it. “Okay.”
“And even if it takes a while, that’s all right. You’ve got enough money.”
Blood money. That was all it was. Tuesday hated the size of her bank account, while at the same time she marveled at it.
Her mother put her mouth to the camera again, as if she thought that was where the microphone was. “You said you could think of this as your gap year. Your sabbatical. Isn’t that a lovely idea? You can work on your new house and read all the books you haven’t had time for. Who gets that lucky, right?”
Lucky.
It made her want to laugh, but if she did, she might cry, so instead Tuesday nodded. “You’re right. But, Mama, it’s so far from you.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d called her mother that. Years, maybe a decade or two.
Her mother spread her fingers and wiggled them. “Oh! I almost forgot! What about the brother?”
Could she fake an internet connection going out? Hang up on her mother and text her that she’d talk to her later in the week?
That wouldn’t be kind, though.
“I met the brothers.”
“Which one did you choose?”
“The bo
at guy.”
“The youngest?”
“Jake. Yeah.”
Her mother pulled back, looking up at the ceiling. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d go for him.”
“What do you mean? Did we watch the same shows together?”
There were only five episodes so far. One the inaugural show, Liam and Felicia had fallen for each other, which took Liam out of play. It was suddenly a show about the other two brothers. Aidan had been chosen twice, as had Jake. They’d seemed to be having a great time, and at the end of each show, the woman in question would cheerfully say something like, “I’ve found the home of my heart, but I’m still looking for the right guy. These Ballard brothers are great, but they’re still on the market.”
“No,” said her mother. “We watched the same shows. I just assumed you’d go for the middle brother.”
“In my classrooms, the middle siblings are always the ones you want to watch out for.”
“Pish.”
From what sounded like another room, her father yelled, “I don’t trust that big guy, the one named Aidan!”
“Thanks, Dad! Neither do I.”
Margo said, “But Aidan’s so handsome. All wide chin and big hands and long legs. And those deep blue eyes.”
“Mom!”
“Don’t forget you’re my woman!”
Tuesday’s mother giggled in delight. “Have fun with the young one then, my love. He’s a sweetie, too. Keep us posted. Now, the oven just dinged. Love you.” With a kiss pressed to the camera, she was gone.
He’s a sweetie.
Tuesday closed the computer. Her mother thought she knew the men in On the Market because she’d seen five shows. But Tuesday was here, and she knew not one thing about the men or the town or even what she herself was really doing here.
She’d run away from everything she’d ever known, from the people she loved, because she felt such unalleviated guilt. She lifted the hem of her shirt and traced the long, rippled scar.
Maybe here she’d be able to throw the guilt into the ocean, where it could float out and join the island of trash that sat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Chapter 6
A
s Aidan pushed his way into the Golden Spike Café, he suspected he hadn’t had enough caffeine yet to deal with getting coffee with his brothers. Sure, he’d had three cups at home, but it still wasn’t enough. They were having a business meeting, and they should have had it at the office, but both of his brothers were completely addicted to Molly Darling’s plum muffins.
The café was crowded, of course, but his brothers had saved the corner of the counter for him. Great. He’d have to sit with his back to the diner, one brother on either side. At least he’d be the closest person to the coffeepot under the counter.
“You look like shit.” Jake pushed him a clean, empty coffee mug.
“Thanks.” Aidan rubbed his jaw. He’d missed a big spot shaving. That would be a good look later. Patchy as a pirate, with the mood to match. “Where’s Nikki?”
Liam pointed. “Dealing with those ten tourists that just came in. They’re asking for extra hot skim lattes with caramel salted baby-tear foam.”
“That’ll go well.” Nikki was obviously stuck. Good thing Aidan’s arm was long. He stood and leaned all the way over the counter and grabbed one of the full coffee pots. He was careful to not go all the way behind the counter. Nikki got sensitive about that. As long as he just reached, he was okay. He served himself and topped up his brothers’ cups, too.
“Hey!” Norma, one of the town drunks and one of Aidan’s favorite people, waved at him from the next table. Her collection of necklaces tinkled and her muumuu was exactly the same color red as the tablecloths, so that it looked as if she were wearing the table. “Hit me!”
Aidan poured coffee into her mug. “You’re out of cream.” He took the silver jug and swapped it for a full one from the tiny fridge next to the coffee pots.
“Here you go.”
Norma looked up at him. She was normally all smiles, but this morning, her lined face was wary. “I don’t like it.”
“The coffee?” He sniffed the pot. “I’m just pouring it. I didn’t make it.”
“No. Something’s not right.” Norma clutched her necklaces, jingling them. “I don’t know what it is. But something’s off.”
“Earthquake weather, maybe?” It was what locals said to explain anything that didn’t feel right. They were always wrong, except for Norma. She always knew when one was coming.
“Nah.” She flapped her hands. “Something else. Someone’s coming to town.”
“You sound like a carnival fortune teller in a movie.” He smiled. “Now I’m expecting to look out and see clowns coming after us with butcher knives.”
She looked affronted, her dark eyebrows climbing her forehead as if they wanted to run up into her short gray hair. “I love clowns. I don’t understand where all this recent clown hatred is coming from.” She shut her eyes. “I’m going to sit here and think happy clown thoughts now.”
Aidan put back the coffee pot and slid in to his seat.
“Happy clown thoughts,” whispered Liam.
Jake guffawed.
“Speaking of clowns.” Liam jabbed his fork over Aidan’s coffee cup at Jake. “Where are you taking Ms. Willis on your first date?”
That was dumb. Why would his brother already be concerned about that, when they hadn’t even started work on the house yet? “He’s got time.”
“The network really wants us to move on this.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. I did surfing with that one gal, and bungee jumping with the other one. I’m kind of out of ideas.”
“Such a romantic.”
“Hey,” Jake said. “I live on a boat. I don’t need romantic. When’s the boat’s a-rockin’…”
“Classy,” said Aidan. “You gonna say that on air?”
“Hell, no.” Jake fiddled with an invisible bow tie. “I like to look good on camera. Not like you morons.”
Nikki, the hostess and sometimes-waitress, appeared. “Hey, guys. Aidan, thanks for helping with the coffee round.”
“Do I get a tip?”
She retied her apron. “Here’s one. Stay out of Molly’s way today. The oysters weren’t delivered and the mayor has some fancy shindig here tonight.”
Aidan sensed an opportunity. “Can I help? I can run down to Tomales Bay if you need me to.”
“No.” Liam elbowed him. “We need you on site today, you idiot.”
“Can’t need me that much.”
“You are the one who’s got to figure out how to jack up the foundation and fix it within the week.”
Aidan forgot about the oysters. “That’s completely impossible.”
“They’re paying us to make it possible.”
Nikki sighed. “Thanks, anyway, Aidan. I think she’ll make the sheriff do the run, and I’m going to try like hell to send her, too. She needs to get away from this place for a few hours.” She nodded at someone at the register and moved away.
Damn. Aidan could have done with a trip out of town. He and his brothers had lived in Darling Bay most of their lives, first with their parents, and later, with the man their mother married, Bill Ballard. Bill had loved them with a ferocity neither parent ever had, and it was because of him that they’d all grown up healthy. Their father had been addicted to meth. Their mother had been addicted to opiates and inappropriate men—except for Bill.
Bill had loved them.
And he’d loved Darling Bay. There wasn’t a much better combination, if you asked Aidan.
It didn’t mean that sometimes a man just needed to leave town at a high rate of speed and not look in the rearview for a few days.
“No,” said Liam.
“What?” Heat crept up Aidan’s neck.
“You’ve got your running face on.”
“Exercise. Please. My job gives me all
the exercise I need.” Aidan was being deliberately obtuse. Liam knew him too well, that was all. “There’s something about her. I’m just not feeling this job.”
“Bullshit.”
Aidan jumped. Liam almost never swore.
“This is just about you being selfish and wanting that house for yourself. You can’t have it. You lost that round. Now be a man and get the hell over it.”
Be a man. “Are you saying I’m not one?”
Jake leaned forward. “Hey, dudes. Calm down. It’s not a big deal.”
Not a big deal? The Callahan place was, literally, the house of his dreams. The one he’d always planned on buying the second it was for sale, even if he had to sell his bodily organs to make the cash needed for the down payment. Then it had gone on the market, and because of the TV show, he’d lost it. To a rich out-of-towner who was made richer by the bonus the network paid—they made the down payment to sweeten the deal. Not that she seemed to need it, of course.
Rich girls, man. You could have them. “It’s a big deal to me.” That was all he’d say about it.
“Just get her to sell to you when the show’s over,” Jake said.
That was it. “I just need to get her to sell to me.”
Jake was reaching for the plate Molly was setting down. He wasn’t listening. “Thanks, Mol.”
“You don’t get all of them. Share with your brothers. Six muffins. Three of you. Do the math.”
“You’re the best, Molly. Thanks,” said Liam.
Aidan sat in stunned silence.
“What?” Jake pushed the plate closer to him. “You don’t want yours?”
Aidan blinked. “Whoa.”
Liam reached across. “I’ll take his.”
Aidan strong-armed the plum muffin out of Liam’s grasp. It crumbled a bit, but he got the majority of it. He repeated himself. “I just need to get her to sell to me!”
Jake rolled his eyes. Around a big bite, he said, “I justsh shed that.”
“That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” Liam was always the cautious one. That’s why he handled the finances.
Aidan said, “It’s a great idea.”
“How do you think you’ll go about doing that?”
“She just needs to hate living here.”
Build it Strong (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 2) Page 3
