by Blake, Toni
“Tell me.”
“I keep wondering what other secrets you have.”
He let her words hang in the air. Not because he was choosing his reply carefully, figuring the best way to charm or con—he simply didn’t know what to say. He was keeping something else from her, and he didn’t want to lie. But hell—he couldn’t tell her the truth, either.
He was saved when the back door opened.
Though...not really saved at all because his grandfather walked out, wearing a smile Seth had missed, and completely unaware of the tension he’d just sliced through with his arrival. “Pretty night,” he said to them both.
“Did you have a nice day, Mr. McNaughton?” Meg asked.
“Surely I did. Wasn’t certain these old legs would carry me around the island on a bicycle, but I made the circle twice! Then had a scrumptious meal of biscuits and gravy at the Skipper’s Wheel, and followed it up with some delectable rocky road fudge from Molly’s.”
Of course, while Seth had known coming back tonight might bring him into his grandpa’s path, it had seemed so quiet upon his return that he’d thought maybe fate would work with him rather than against him. But fate never had much been on his side.
“Molly’s daughter has actually taken over the shop now,” Meg informed his grandpa.
“Is that right?” his granddad said. “Well, it was mighty delicious fudge, I can assure you of that. Thinking I’ll try a different flavor every day I’m here.”
Meg laughed in her good-hearted way. “That sounds like a plan I can get behind. Though I have to avoid the fudge myself—living here is dangerous in that way.”
“I’ll have to keep biking around the island to make sure my waistline stands a chance of breaking even.” His grandpa stopped, chuckled. “But the last few years it’s been winning.”
The two exchanged a little more small talk, allowing Seth to quietly stand back and take it in. It bordered on surreal to be with his granddad, on the very same patio, after all these years. It made him miss those years—even more than he already did. It made him wish for a different kind of life. If only that phone call hadn’t come that last day on the island the year he was ten. Nothing had gone right for him after that...until coming back here two weeks ago. It was easy to understand why Meg had stayed—Summer Island did have a way of making you not want to leave.
“Guess it’s time for me to turn in,” his grandpa said after some conversation about the many varieties of lilacs currently coloring the island and talk that Meg might have a cookout for the guests early next week. “But I thank you for the hospitality—it’s always nice to come back here.”
It was as if he’d just read Seth’s mind. And relief spilled through Seth as he turned to go—until he stopped, looked back. And planted his gaze squarely on Seth. “Young man, you mind if I ask where you’re from?”
The answer was easy—the usual. “No particular place—I move around a lot. Mostly down south. Spent some time in Mississippi.”
“What brings you this far north?”
That one was a little harder. “Needed a change of scenery. Cooler weather for the hot summer months.”
Now the old man nodded, accepting the answer. And said, “I imagine the heat down there can be oppressive.”
Seth almost smiled. Oppressive. Splendiferous. Still using those five-dollar words. But instead he just said, “Yeah, it can. Goodnight.”
Of course, as his grandpa disappeared through the door that led into the kitchen, Seth remembered he’d been damn glad for the interruption—because he still had no better answer for Meg’s question than when she’d first asked it.
He met her gaze, not foolish enough to think she wouldn’t come right back to it now that they were alone. And he hoped she could see—somehow—beyond this moment, beyond his past, beyond his lack of answers. You want so damn bad to be this better guy, want her to know that about you, and yet how good a guy are you if you still have that ring? It was in the cabin now, safely hidden in a place he wouldn’t forget this time.
Maybe you just want to be a better man but you’re really not. Maybe you’re not worthy of her at all. Maybe you should tell her she’d be better off with Zack, no matter what the guy’s issues are. Maybe letting her think anything else is just selfish. If you can’t be honest with her, now, this woman you’re so drawn to, who will you ever be honest with?
“Do you remember what I asked you right before we were interrupted?”
“Yep.”
“And are you going to answer me?”
And damn but if it didn’t feel like the heavens were parting to allow in a ray of sun—despite the fact that darkness had just fallen on Summer Island—when the inn’s back door opened once more.
He looked up expecting this time to perhaps see elderly Mr. Carmichael. One more savior. But instead it was his grandfather again.
And this time he walked straight toward Seth, his eyes wide, intense—and when he reached him, he held up the bottle of lilac water Seth and Meg had made together.
He pointed at the label. That very specific label Seth had created to honor an old memory. Eau de Lilac. With the outline and the swirl.
“Seth?” the older man said. “Seth, do you not know me, son? Because I know you. I thought it from the first, but I wasn’t sure. Now I am, though. Because of this.” He pointed at the small bottle again.
Making that damn label had been reckless. Sloppy. And now he’d given himself away.
“Seth, I’m your granddad.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
SETH STOOD SPEECHLESS before his grandfather.
And so the older man went on. “You are Seth Darden, right?”
Seth gave a small, solemn nod. No need to keep lying.
“Seth Darden.” His grandpa repeated the name as if wanting to make sure. But his eyes searched Seth’s face in a new way now—perhaps seeking recognition, or possibly just taking him in as a grown man. After all, Seth had had a little time to adjust to this new, older version of his grandfather—but only in this moment did his grandpa know for certain this was him.
The two men stood staring at each other—frozen in time, it felt like to Seth. Time that was going backward, racing back to some of the last days they’d been together, neither knowing they’d soon never see each other again. Or not, as it turned out, until now.
When Seth said nothing more—because damn, any charm or skills of manipulation he’d ever possessed had fled him—Meg volunteered, sounding almost as on edge as he felt, “I should leave you two alone.”
But the declaration made him grab her wrist as she moved to go past him toward the door. He wasn’t ready to be alone with his grandpa yet. And though he said no actual words, the gesture halted her in place.
And his grandfather went on, apparently not minding her presence. “Son, I don’t know where to begin. I’m wondering where on earth you’ve been, where your daddy took you off to all these years. And how you ended up back here again. Right now, in front of me this way.” The old man stopped, shook his head, now balding and gray compared to when Seth had been a kid. He appeared truly thunderstruck, so much so that...even in the new silence resting between them, Seth began to understand. His grandpa hadn’t left his life willingly.
“Mississippi, but we moved a lot, like I said,” Seth answered him.
His grandfather appeared tired. “We tried to find you but didn’t have the first idea where to look. Your daddy’s family was no help at all—didn’t seem to know, either.”
Seth found that perfectly believable since he’d never seen or heard from that side of his family again either—but they hadn’t been close, so he hadn’t noticed the loss as much.
“So you looked?” Seth asked. He hadn’t planned the words, but they’d tumbled out. Out of a part of him that was much younger, some last little hint of a ten-year-old boy wondering wh
at the hell had just happened to his life.
His grandpa’s eyes widened upon grasping what Seth had thought all these years. “Good Lord, son—of course.” But it came with another sigh. “We didn’t have many resources, though—just the telephone and your daddy’s last known address, along with a few other places we found out he was known to go. The internet was brand new back then—and even now, I wouldn’t call myself an aficionado of the thing.”
Aficionado. Seth smiled to himself, even if a bit somberly now.
“Not sure much would show up there anyway,” he informed his grandfather quietly. He and his dad hadn’t given their real names most places. And though they’d both always kept a legal driver’s license, they’d also possessed a variety of fake ones. Ron Darden had known how to lie low and fly under the radar, even in a world bursting with technology.
“And the authorities were even less help,” his granddad said. “Not being your parents, we didn’t have any legal rights to you. They said it was within Ron’s rights to take you wherever he pleased, and that you were probably just fine. I think some laws have changed since then, but without knowing what state you were in, that never helped us out much.
“We loved you,” he went on, “and we thought we should have a hand in raising you—but the law didn’t see it that way at the time.”
He stopped again, clearly sinking a little deeper into the moment, the reality. His next words came lower, slower, like maybe he was afraid to ask. “How have you been, son?”
It was a damn hard question to answer. And Seth’s first instinct was to fall back on old habits. Grin and say fine. Keep it short. Choose his words with care. Act as if he had everything under control.
But there was something about hearing his grandfather call him son. He always had, as far back as Seth could remember. It was a term of endearment that had always rung true, and hearing it leave his grandpa’s mouth now filled him with...trust. Maybe a child’s trust. Maybe a foolish trust. His father had made him believe all trust was foolish—except between the two of them, because they were a team. And Seth had trusted his dad—because he’d had no one else. For twenty years, he’d had no one else.
But trust, like charm, could be a habit—anything could—and his grandpa was making him feel...safe. Maybe safe like this island and Meg’s grandmother had once made her feel. So he let himself do something he’d not done much of until recently—he spoke from the heart.
“I...didn’t know Dad left without telling you. As I got older, I wondered—but I was never sure. I thought maybe you’d just figured it was easier not having me around after Mom died.”
He regretted the words immediately, though, when a wounded expression flashed across his granddad’s face. “How could we ever stop caring for you, son? We always loved you—always—and after your mom was gone, well...it felt in a way like both of you had died. Your sweet grandma never really got over the loss—of either of you.” His eyes looked glassy now. “I only wish she could see me standing here with you, wish she could see what a fine young man you grew into.” He stopped, lowered his gaze, bit his lip. “She passed on three years ago this August.”
Seth’s mind was a blur of thoughts racing past so fast he could scarcely grab on to them.
Being without me doubled their loss? He’d never even imagined such a thing—it was like looking at the world through an entirely new lens.
And it made certain pains feel fresh, raw. It made him hurt for his grandma in a way he never had. It also made him hurt for his grandpa for being without her, as it was clear that pain still felt fresh, too—even after three years. His grandpa’s eyes dripped with loneliness when he spoke of her death.
But his granddad had him pegged all wrong—he wasn’t a fine man, not a fine man at all.
And he didn’t know how to explain that to him.
Same as you did to Meg. Though it felt even harder with his grandpa, just as he’d known it would. He didn’t want to let the man down, and after all this time, and all this loss, the reality of who he was would be a disappointment.
“I’m sorry.” The words came past a lump in his throat.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Seth,” his grandpa said, shaking his head, confused by the words.
“I’m not...who you think. I’m not...who I want to be.”
The older man blinked, looked a little worried now. “What do you mean?”
Shit. He’d started all wrong, haphazardly, leaving him nowhere to go but straight into the ugliness. Yeah, his skills disappeared a little more thoroughly every damn day. And maybe on some level that was actually good. It means you’re stuck being real with people because it’s all you’ve got left. But it wasn’t a place he was comfortable in or knew anything about. It made him the proverbial bull in a china shop, ramming and slamming his way around facts and confessions most people would probably handle with more finesse.
You’ve got nothing to lose now, though. Well, nothing you knew you had until five minutes ago anyway. “Dad...didn’t raise me right, Granddad.”
This time when his grandpa sighed, it came with a certain knowing, a lack of surprise. Only whatever he was thinking probably didn’t hold a candle to how bad things really were.
“This is...this is hard, because... I wish I’d grown up into the kind of man you could be proud of—and I’m about as far from that as possible.”
His grandfather’s expression turned solemn then, and reverent, and maybe even tolerant—as he said, “Son, I would never judge you for your upbringing—that’s something none of us has any say over. Family is about unconditional love. Now why don’t you and me sit down someplace together and just talk, catch up—you tell me about your life and I’ll tell you about mine. How’s that sound?”
It sounds better than I thought it could.
And...safer than I thought it could.
* * *
THE NIGHT WAS TEMPERATE, warm for June by island standards, and though Seth had wanted her to stay, Meg knew the time had come to give them some privacy, and that he’d be okay with that now. She stood up and said, “I’m going to head inside and leave you two out here to talk.”
“All right, darlin’,” Seth answered quietly. Their eyes met as she crossed the patio, and she saw so much in his, so much more than she even could have conceived of when they’d first met. His sexy charm still lingered there, beneath the surface, too much a part of him to disappear completely—but she was proud of him for facing this monumental moment with honesty and dignity. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about his past, if she believed someone with that background could ever be fully trustworthy—even if that was unfair and judgmental. But on the other hand, she found herself trying to put herself in his shoes, understand what it felt like to have been drawn into that life without having any say in it, to regret it, to have left it, but to know it still brands you.
Normally, she would have cleaned up in the kitchen—especially now that there were guests on the premises. But she didn’t want to accidentally overhear any more of such a private conversation, so she simply turned out the kitchen light and walked to the parlor, where she found Mr. Carmichael watching TV.
Glad for the distraction, she inquired about his day, pointed out the laminated channel guide she kept on the coffee table this time of year, and said goodnight. Normally during tourist season, she loaned her guests keys if they intended to be out late at the Pink Pelican or elsewhere, but since everyone was accounted for and it had been a long day, she locked the door and headed to the privacy of her room, a place that became a sanctuary for her in summer.
Miss Kitty followed, likely a bit jarred by the added comings and goings today—the first few days of the season were always like that, but then she adjusted and reverted to being her normal one-more-knick-knack self.
Meg showered and put on summer pajamas—her robe handy for any necessary departures from the room no
w that the house was officially an inn again—then gave herself a mini-pedicure since sandal season had finally arrived. After that, she curled up in bed with Gran’s red leather diary. And she had just opened it to the page she’d last bookmarked—when a small knock came on the door.
“Yes?”
It opened and Seth peeked inside. “Hi, darlin’.”
“Come in,” she told him, instantly sensing the new calm that hung about him. “It went well?”
He nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. More like a visitor than a man who had shared it with her, but she appreciated him honoring her more recent emotions. “Better than in my wildest dreams,” he said quietly.
Her heart filled, and despite herself she wanted to hug him—but made do with, “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“We’re gonna spend some time together while he’s here, and then maybe at some point I’ll drive down to Pennsylvania and visit, stay with him awhile.”
Why was that last part jarring? She prayed her reaction didn’t show on her face. Because of course the two men would want to reconnect in a deeper, longer lasting way. And it was wonderful that Seth suddenly had a place that might feel like home to him. And that Mr. McNaughton would have his long-lost grandson back in his life on a regular basis. It made perfect sense for both of them.
Even if an hour ago he’d been a man without a home who’d assured her he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“When...do you think you’ll leave?” She feared it had come out sounding too whispery.
He shrugged. “No specific plan. End of summer maybe. Or when the work dries up here.”
She nodded, tried to look natural, like this affected her not at all.
“Meg darlin’, you look tense.”
Crap. “Do I?” She tried again to relax. And failed.
He tilted his head, gave her a long look. “If this is about me telling you I wasn’t going anyplace anytime soon, I won’t if...if you decide you want me here. I guess it just didn’t seem to me like things were leaning that way. But if I’m wrong about that, Meg, all you gotta do is let me know.”
