Girls of Summer (Shelter Rock Cove - Book #2)

by Barbara Bretton

  “Do you peek inside medicine cabinets, too?”

  “You’re trying to change the subject. Why were you fighting with Hall Talbot? Was he hopeless in bed?”

  Heat, unexpected and delicious, ignited her body from head to toe at the memory of just how hopeless he was. “There’s a small problem.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  She laughed despite herself. “Not that. Unfortunately the good doctor happens to be in love with someone else.”

  “So why wasn’t he sleeping with her?”

  “Because she’s married. Because she loves her husband. Because she just had her second baby and—”

  “Annie Butler.”

  “How on earth did you figure that out?” Deirdre’s sixth sense had always unnerved her.

  “I haven’t a clue.” Deirdre rearranged herself on the chaise. “Does Annie love him?”

  “Only as a friend. She’s madly in love with her husband.”

  “Did they ever—”

  “Never! I’m not even sure she knows how he feels about her.”

  “He doesn’t look like the kind of man who’d go around carrying a torch for anyone. The man is beyond gorgeous.”

  “If you like that sort of thing.”

  They both dissolved into laughter loud enough to draw an annoyed grumble from Stanley, who buried his nose beneath his front paws.

  “So what’s the problem?” Deirdre asked, propping her feet up on the railing next to Ellen’s. “It’s not like you’re in love with him.” She paused. “You aren’t, are you?”

  “No, no,” Ellen said, wishing the topic had never reared its ugly head. “Of course not. Like I said, he’s in love with someone else.”

  “So?”

  “That wouldn’t bother you?” Ellen asked.

  “It would if I was in love with him, but since you say you aren’t, I don’t see the problem.”

  “Neither one of us is looking for that kind of involvement.”

  “So you had a one-nighter. Big deal.”

  Ellen flinched. “You make it sound kind of tawdry.”

  “Do you like ‘fling’ better?”

  Ellen looked up at the stars and sighed. “Mistake,” she said at last. “A big fat mistake.”

  * * *

  It took four bedtime stories and a stern admonition before Mariah and Willa finally settled down for the night. Hall lingered in the doorway for a long while, watching them as they slept, spoon-fashion, in the same double bed their big sisters Kate and Elizabeth had once shared when they were the same age.

  All he did was turn his head for an instant and they were practically grown, away at college and living lives he would never fully know. It would happen with Mariah and Willa, too. One morning he would wake up and they would have boyfriends and driver’s licenses, and moments like these would be nothing more than a distant memory of a time long past.

  Unfortunately with memory came regrets. Lots of them. Three failed marriages was a good place to start. He had read somewhere that the greatest gift a man could give his children was to love their mother. He had cared deeply for each of his wives. He had been faithful and he would have stayed faithful if they hadn’t seen right through him. They wanted to be loved the way a woman deserved to be loved, and that was the one thing he couldn’t provide. His feelings for Annie Galloway always got in the way. Years and years of watching her from across the room, knowing things about her marriage that he had no business knowing, quietly biding his time after Kevin’s death, waiting respectfully like the good family friend that he was for the right day, the right moment, to tell her how he felt.

  Except that moment never came. Sam Butler moved into town and stole her heart, and Hall was left standing on the sidelines once again, wondering where he had gone wrong.

  But there was something to be said for small towns. You couldn’t avoid life if you tried. It was out there waiting for you in front of the post office, or on Ceil’s line at Yankee Shopper, or across from you at Susan’s dinner table. He saw Annie every day, watched her grow big with her first child, came to understand that she had found the real thing with Sam Butler. And somewhere along the way he let her go. He couldn’t say exactly when it had happened, but one morning he woke up and she wasn’t his first thought or even his fifth. He could bump into her at Cappy’s or see her leaving Ellen’s office with a belly swelling with her second daughter and only wish her well. The ache of love, of longing, was finally gone.

  He wandered out onto the deck and settled down on the old swing. A full moon rode high in the star-spangled sky. Ellen loved nights like this, when the sky was bright and the breeze off the ocean carried the scent of flowers. She loved cats and dogs and birds and babies, peach pie and lobster and sweet corn dripping with butter. She loved summer nights, snowy winter afternoons, long books, and short movies. She loved the women who put themselves in her hands, the young girls looking for direction, the babies who turned couples into families.

  He had handled things badly at the house. Out there in the garden he had veered wildly from desire to regret to anger and back again, all over the emotional map. Her defenses had popped up faster than he could knock them down. Public displays of private emotions weren’t her style—or his, either, under normal circumstances. But he had the sense that she was pulling away from him and that if he didn’t get through to her now, all that would be left was polite conversation.

  He glanced at the time on his cell phone. Three minutes after eleven. Her sister was there. They were probably tired. Maybe he should wait until tomorrow and—

  Screw that. Waiting didn’t get you anything but older. He punched in her speed-dial code.

  * * *

  One of the many items Ellen needed to buy was a bed for the guest room. Deirdre said she would be fine sleeping on the sofa, but Ellen insisted she share the bed with her.

  “I don’t know how to break this to you,” Deirdre said as she settled back against the pillows, “but Stanley likes to sleep with me.”

  “You slut,” Ellen said, grinning at her sister.

  “Any port in a storm.” Deirdre stifled a yawn. “He’s big, he’s strong, and he doesn’t snore. Find me a man like that and I’ll marry him.”

  Ellen switched off the bed lamp and opened the curtains wide to let in the evening breezes. How it must have hurt Claudia to leave this wonderful house. The heady mix of ocean breezes and beach roses made her shiver with pleasure.

  “You’d better climb in before Stanley does,” Deirdre said, sounding half asleep. “Once he claims his turf, you might find yourself on the floor.”

  “I—” The cell phone on Ellen’s nightstand bleated. “Oh, damn.” She grabbed for it and pressed the On button. “Dr. Markowitz.”

  “Dr. Talbot here.”

  “What’s wrong?” She peered at her clock. “It’s almost eleven—”

  “I know what time it is. We need to talk.”

  “I think we talked enough this afternoon.”

  “That wasn’t talking. That was arguing.”

  “This really isn’t a great time.”

  “Don’t mind me,” Deirdre called from the depths of her pillow. “I’m going to sleep.”

  “I’m going downstairs,” she told Deirdre and a minute later settled herself on the deck. “Make it quick. It’s freezing out here.”

  “Put a blanket on.”

  “I don’t keep blankets on my deck, Hall.”

  “Look under the chaise cushion,” he said. “Claudia always kept a blanket hidden there.”

  He was right. The lightweight throw felt wonderful against her bare skin. “So what do you want?” she asked, curling herself into the corner of the swing. “I have early rounds tomorrow morning.”

  She heard him pull in a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you, Markowitz.”

  Her own breath caught in her throat. “Am I going someplace?”

  “Your friendship is too important to me.”

  She experienced an odd blend of disa
ppointment and joy that left her feeling as if she had just stepped off one of those whirling teacup rides at Disney World. “I feel the same way.”

  “They’ll be watching us tomorrow.”

  “They’ll be watching me.”

  “Both of us,” he said. “We can get through this if we put up a united front.”

  “You’re homegrown. They have to forgive you. Me, they can ship back to New York.”

  “Is that what you want to do?” he asked. “Go back home to New York?”

  “This is home now,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I wish I could make it all better for you, Markowitz. I wish—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. Why didn’t she ever have a Kleenex with her when she needed one? “If wishes were horses...” She covered the phone, then sniffled loudly. “Why don’t we pretend it never happened.”

  A beat of silence passed before he responded. “You mean when I—”

  “The whole thing,” she said. “Erase the whole mistake.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” she said fiercely. “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “You want us to go back to being friends.”

  Damn those stupid tears.

  “Ellen?”

  “Yes,” she said. “We’ll go back to being friends.”

  Just like the night before had never happened.

  Chapter Ten

  “Knock it off, Stanley!” Deirdre buried her head under her pillow. “It’s the crack of dawn.”

  Stanley barked again, more urgently this time, and from somewhere in the distance she heard a buzzer. She opened her eyes, groaned, and quickly closed them again. The room was flooded with full sunlight. It took her a second to remember where she was, and once she did she made a note to remind her sister to buy some blackout curtains.

  She squinted at the clock on Ellen’s nightstand but couldn’t make out the numbers through the glare. The buzzer sounded again, followed by three short knocks on the door. Stanley threw back his mighty head and thundered off a rolling bark that they could probably hear across town. She had a vague memory of Ellen bustling around the room at dawn, followed by the sound of her car roaring to life, so there would be no help on that score. It was becoming clear that sleep would not be an option until she got up and answered the door.

  Maybe it was the furniture fairy delivering some presents, she thought as she followed Stanley down the staircase in her ratty old Caesar’s Palace T-shirt and bare feet. A lovely guest bed. Some dressers and lamps. A kitchen table. A sixty-inch flat-screen plasma television with cable and TiVo.

  “It’s awfully early,” she said as she swung open the door, “but since you insist—” Her words stopped abruptly as she found herself looking up at a smiling Scott the Mechanic. “You could have left my wallet here last night.”

  “I felt funny handing it to someone else.”

  She stifled a yawn. “So why didn’t you hand it to me?”

  “You were playing that harp.”

  “So why didn’t you wait?”

  He handed her the wallet. “You’re good. Damn good.”

  She was pleased despite herself. “Like you know harps.”

  He turned and started down the front porch steps toward the tow truck idling in the driveway.

  “Wait!” she called out, running down the steps after him. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  He stopped and turned to face her. Nobody had ever looked at her quite that way before. She couldn’t begin to figure out the expression in his eyes.

  “Okay,” she said as Stanley galloped past her. “I’m lying. I meant it exactly the way it sounded and I’m sorry.”

  “I was going to tell you I ordered the parts for your car, but thanks for the apology.” Who knew he had such a terrific smile?

  “I’m withdrawing the apology,” she said as an answering smile spread across her face.

  “Too late. Once an apology is accepted, it can’t be withdrawn.”

  “Like there’s a rule out there about apologies.”

  “There’s a rule out there about everything if you know where to look.”

  Scott the Mechanic was growing more interesting by the second. “How many parts did you order?”

  “Three,” he said. “If you want to stop by later, maybe we can give you an estimate.”

  “Why not now?”

  “The parts place hasn’t come up with a quote.”

  “You ordered something, but you don’t know how much it’s going to cost?”

  “Hell, I don’t even know if they can find the parts.”

  Her smile vanished. “Oh, God, don’t say that. You have to find the parts. I’m leaving for Bar Harbor on Saturday morning.”

  “I scanned four states for parts, and only one source said they might have what we need.”

  This was quickly turning into a nightmare. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I don’t have a whole lot of extra money for car repairs.”

  “You mean your other car isn’t a Lexus?”

  She rolled her eyes. “My other car isn’t even a car. It’s a bicycle.”

  “Somehow I don’t see you biking to Bar Harbor.”

  “Especially since I left my bike in Boston with friends.” He didn’t have to know it was a ten-year-old three-speed with a dented front fender.

  “I’ll make some more calls.”

  “I’d really appreciate it.”

  They stood there looking at each other for what seemed like a very long time. There was nothing left to say. She had her wallet. He understood her situation. Neither one was the type to make small talk about the weather. Still they stood there quietly, taking each other’s measure. She couldn’t get a reading on him. The externals were all very pleasing—great smile, great shoulders, great voice—but she couldn’t seem to get a feel for the man behind those deep green eyes. She usually had a pretty easy time picking up a man’s vibe, but Scott the Mechanic seemed to have the emotional equivalent of a Star Wars system keeping her at bay.

  Which made him way too interesting for her own good.

  She wrapped her arms across her chest, suddenly aware that she was standing there in full sunlight wearing nothing but a sleep shirt and a pair of bikini panties. “I’d better get back inside,” she said, edging away from him. “God knows what Stanley’s doing in there.”

  The man knew how to play silence for all it was worth. She had to pinch the inside of her arm to keep from filling the void with mindless chatter. She knew all about the art of the well-timed exit, and this was about as perfect a time for one as she was likely to encounter, but the thought of walking away from him in full sunlight in nothing but that stupid T-shirt held her in place.

  “Don’t let me keep you,” she said. “I know you have things to do.”

  “You said you were leaving.”

  “I decided to stay here and wave goodbye.”

  “I can’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That means you looked.”

  He nodded. “I looked.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I’m not disappointed.”

  Who would have guessed he had even noticed? “Humor me,” she said. “Allow me to keep my cellulite a family secret.”

  Men hated the word cellulite. If you ever wanted to deflate a man’s ardor, whisper it in his ear. She had used it a time or two to great effect.

  But Scott the Mechanic was made of stronger stuff. He didn’t even blink at the word cellulite. “I meant what I said before. You have a lot of talent.”

  “Bet you say that to all the half-naked girls.”

  “Only the talented ones.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “Try taking it the way it was meant.” He climbed into his truck, threw it into gear, and headed back to town.

  Leave it to a mechanic to recognize a g
reat exit line.

  * * *

  “I have good news for you,” Ellen said as the young girl and her mother took their seats in her office. “Tori isn’t pregnant.”

  Tori, sixteen and terrified, burst into tears of relief. Her mother, Amanda, forty and equally terrified, didn’t believe it. “But the test,” she said. “I saw it myself. There was a big plus sign right there.”

  “Home pregnancy tests arc wonderful tools,” Ellen said, closely watching her young patient as she spoke, “but they are occasionally inaccurate. This was one of those times.”

  “How can we be sure?”

  “We are sure,” Ellen said. “The test we ran is in perfect agreement with my findings during the exam. Tori is definitely not pregnant.”

  “Oh, God.” Amanda Dietrich buried her face in her hands for a moment. “Thank God, thank God.” She turned to her daughter. “If you so much as go near Jimmy Welles again, so help me I’ll—”

  “I think we all need to talk,” Ellen broke in. “We need to discuss Tori’s world the way it is, not the way we wish it could be.” She focused in on the young girl, who was looking at her with a combination of respect and terror that tugged at her heartstrings. There wasn’t a single one of them who didn’t have the power to break Ellen’s heart with their innocence and their problems. “You took an enormous risk when you had unprotected sex, Tori.”

  “It was the safe time of month, Dr. Ellen. I figured it out.”

  “Some times of month are safer than others,” Ellen said, “but the cold truth of the matter is that no time of month is completely safe.” She leaned back in her chair and kept her gaze focused on the young girl. “How long have you been sexually active?”

  “Since, she was fourteen,” Amanda spoke up. “I tried to reason with her, but she’s always been headstrong.”

  “Have you two talked about the Pill?”

  Tori sat up a little straighter. “That’s foolproof, isn’t it?”

  Sorry to shoot you down, Tori. “Nothing is foolproof,” Ellen said, “except abstinence, but, taken properly, the Pill will afford you better than ninety percent effectiveness.”