by Marie Force
“Every time I think about leaving the baby for long days at school followed by longer nights of studying, I feel physically ill.”
“Who will take care of your baby while you’re doing all that?”
“Joe.”
“So he or she will have one parent available to him or her all the time, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“And what do babies remember about the first year or two of their lives?”
“Not much.”
“Don’t do anything rash, Janey. You’ve wanted to be a vet for so long, and you’re so close. Don’t quit now. At least wait until after the baby arrives and see how you feel then.”
She released a deep sigh that had Riley nudging at her hand. Patting his head, she said, “All right. You win. I’ll wait to decide anything.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets later.”
“The stupid website won’t let me do anything.”
Adam put fingers to keyboard to do what he did best. “Ah,” he said a couple of minutes later. “Here’s your problem. You need an s after the http because it’s a secure site.”
“A single letter cost me an hour of my life?”
“Welcome to my world.” With a few more keystrokes, he had her logged into the course selection area. “There you go.”
“You’re the best. Thank you. For this and the words of wisdom.”
“That’s what big brothers are for.”
“In my world, they’re usually good for little more than four huge pains in my ass.”
The comment made him laugh for the first time in days. “It’s good to see you, brat.”
“You, too. Mom and Dad will be thrilled to have you home. Oh, and I’m sure Mom will throw a welcome-home dinner, which means I won’t have to cook tonight. Yay.”
“Glad I could help you out. Hey, so guess who I saw on the ferry?”
“Who?”
“Abby.”
Janey’s eyes widened at the mention of her close friend. “Are she and Cal here for a visit? She never said a word to me about coming home.”
“Not exactly. Apparently, things with Cal are kaput.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope. She was tipsy on the ferry and telling everyone she is done with men—permanently.”
“Oh my goodness! She hardly drinks at all, so things must be really bad if she’d drinking during the day. Where’s she staying?”
“At the Beachcomber until she finds a place.”
“I’d better get over there and check on her.”
“Might be a good idea. She’s in pretty rough shape.” Adam took a minute to scratch the ears of each of Janey’s pets, which he knew his sister would appreciate. “So where are Grant and Stephanie living these days?”
“On Shore Point Road. Number twenty-two. They bought the place from Ned. You might want to stop and see Grant on the way to Mom and Dad’s. We’re all a little worried about him. He’s not bouncing back as fast as the others from the accident.”
“What’s going on?”
“No one knows, not even Stephanie. He won’t talk about it.”
“I’ll go by there.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’ll see you later at dinner.”
She hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
As Adam left his sister’s house, he realized he was happy to be home where everyone in his life was exactly what they appeared to be—loving, comical, often exasperating and, most important of all, loyal. He’d discovered in the past week there was a lot to be said for loyalty.
Grant’s new place was between Janey’s and their parents’ house but required a slight detour down Shore Point Road. The two-story saltbox sat at the end of a crushed-shell driveway that crunched beneath Adam’s feet. With no cars in the driveway, it was hard to tell if anyone was home, but Adam knocked on the door anyway. When no one answered, Adam tried the door and found it unlocked. He ducked his head inside. “Hey, Grant! Are you home?”
Still no answer.
Figuring to see his second-oldest brother at dinner, Adam pulled the door closed and headed back to the road.
“Adam?”
Halfway down the driveway, Adam turned to find Grant standing on the front porch. Even from a distance, Adam could see that his brother looked like hell. His hair was standing on end, he hadn’t shaved in days, and, most alarming of all, his blue eyes seemed sunken into the face his brothers had always teasingly called pretty-boy handsome.
Filled with trepidation, Adam returned to the house and dropped his backpack at the foot of the stairs.
“What’re you doing here?” Grant asked, scrubbing a hand over his sleepy-looking face.
It was after one o’clock, and he’d still been sleeping? Adam thought.
“This,” Adam said as he took the stairs and hugged his brother. “It’s really good to see you.”
“Ah, yeah, you, too,” Grant said as he made a halfhearted effort to return Adam’s hug.
Adam was strangely unable to let go. “You guys scared the shit out of us.”
“We’re okay.” Grant hugged him tighter for a moment and then released him. “Come on in.”
Despite what Grant said, Adam could see that his brother was not okay. He looked anything but okay. “Where’s Stephanie?”
“At the restaurant, I guess. She was gone when I woke up.”
If Adam was guessing correctly, Grant had woken up about two minutes ago. “Nice place.” Adam took a look around the cozy living room that flowed into a decent-sized kitchen. Boxes were scattered about, some open and others taped closed.
“Thanks. We’re still getting unpacked.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a can of coffee, dropping a bag of filters onto the floor, which he bent to retrieve. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I had the daily allotment hours ago.”
“Hmm, is that right? What time is it?”
“After one.”
Grant seemed genuinely surprised to hear that. “Really? Wow, that’s weird.”
“It’s not like you to sleep the day away,” Adam said tentatively.
Grant shrugged as he scooped coffee, dumped in water and turned on the coffeemaker. “Sleep has been hard to come by the past few days. I’m still trying to catch up.”
“It must’ve been pretty scary. The accident…”
“Yeah.”
The one-word answer was alarming to Adam, who knew how much his screenwriter brother loved to tell a good story. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
That, too, was odd. The Grant he knew and loved talked about everything—he talked everything to death, in fact.
“How long are you here?” Grant asked, leaning against the counter.
“Couple of days.”
“Does Mom know you’re home?”
“Not yet.”
“You’ll make her day. I suppose the rest of us will be required to attend your welcome-home dinner.”
“You don’t have to if you have other stuff to do.”
Grant shrugged again, filling Adam with uneasiness. Under normal circumstances, Grant would’ve had an insulting zinger waiting on the tip of his tongue. Adam debated whether he should mention that he’d seen Abby and decided not to say anything for now. If something was troubling his brother, he didn’t want to pile on by telling him his ex-girlfriend was back on the island—and single again.
“I guess I’d better get to Mom before someone else tells her I’m home.”
“Probably a good idea.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Never better.”
Grant said what he thought Adam wanted to hear, but there was something about his eyes, Adam decided. He was not fine, and one way or the other, Adam was determined to figure out what was troubling his older brother.
Abby stretched out on the bed in the third-floor room she’d managed to secure at the Beachcomber, only because someone had canceled their Race
Week reservation at the last minute. She’d been so determined to get home that she hadn’t even thought of Race Week, which was the unofficial start of the summer season on Gansett Island.
In her old life running Abby’s Attic, this would’ve been one of the busiest weeks of the year. Thinking about her adorable store and all the hard work she’d put into it had new tears running down her face. Right when she thought she’d run out of tears, she discovered there could be more.
She hated that she’d cried all over Adam McCarthy on the ferry. Mortifying! What he must think of her. What would everyone think of her now that she’d chased after two men only to end up alone?
Why had she come back here of all places? Everyone knew she’d failed to bring Grant McCarthy up to scratch—after ten years together, five of them in Los Angeles so he could pursue his screenwriting dream. Now she’d also failed to get Cal Maitland to the altar, despite following him home to Texas after his mother had a stroke. They’d postponed the wedding they’d planned to have on the island last fall and had never again talked about setting a new date. That was one of many reasons why she was back on the island.
She hadn’t known where else to go. For better or worse, Gansett Island was home, and if she was going to rebuild her life—again—she’d rather be surrounded by friends, even if some of them were nosy busybodies who’d take far too much pleasure in gossiping about her latest romantic failure.
“Oh, Cal, how did this happen?” she whispered, gazing up at the ceiling. They’d been so happy here on the island, but the minute they relocated to his hometown in Texas, it had fallen apart. Nothing was the same. Their easy relationship had become more complicated by the day until Abby had realized her choice was either to get out of there or spend the rest of her life playing second fiddle to all the other people in his life who got top billing. After years of taking a backseat to Grant’s illustrious career, she was unwilling to do that again.
Somewhere out there was a man who’d put her first, who’d treat her the way she deserved to be treated. And if that man didn’t exist, then so be it. She’d rather be alone than be treated like a piece of furniture by the man she loved, thus her decision to forgo men completely. That had to be easier than this.
A sob erupted from her chest, reminding her that she’d expected to be married by now—a long time ago, if she were being honest. She’d hoped to be a young mother, and now here she was at thirty-two with nothing more to show for those years than yet another failed relationship.
A knock on the door had her rising, wiping her face on a sleeve already ruined by mascara, and running her fingers through her long dark hair, hoping to bring some order to it.
“Who is it?”
“Janey.”
Abby disengaged the lock on the door and opened it to admit her dear friend, Janey McCarthy Cantrell, who was hugely pregnant, and out of breath after climbing three flights of stairs. Seeing her friend pregnant triggered Abby’s emotions, and suddenly she was crying her heart out while Janey did her best to provide comfort. The gigantic belly made it impossible for Janey to give hugs, so she did the next best thing by sliding one arm around Abby and easing her into the room, shutting the door behind them.
“There, now, it can’t be as bad as all that,” Janey said when they were seated side by side on the bed. “Cal is crazy about you. We all saw that.”
Unable to speak over the torrent of tears, Abby shook her head.
Janey patted her knee. “Take your time, honey. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
This, Abby realized, was why she’d come home to Gansett. For every vicious gossip, there were five true friends who would prop her up and get her through this latest setback. She took the tissues Janey produced from her purse, wiped her face and blew her nose.
“What happened?” Janey asked gently.
“He… He was different there. We were different there. It didn’t work.”
“I’m so sorry, Abby. I know how happy you were with him.”
“We were happy—here. The minute we moved off this island, the whole thing fell apart. His ex-girlfriend was hanging around all the time. She’s probably thrilled that I left. That’s what she was hoping for.”
“What did he have to say about it?”
“She’s an old family friend. She’s worried about his mom. Yada yada. He’s so obtuse and refuses to see she was angling for exactly what she got—to get rid of me.”
“Why would you give her the satisfaction of leaving him to her?”
“Because it’s what he wants, too. I could tell he was having second thoughts about us shortly after I got there. I’ve been down that road before with your brother, and I had no desire to wait it out again and watch something that was once beautiful end ugly.”
“What did Cal say when you told him you were leaving?”
Abby looked down at her hands and realized she’d been shredding the tissue. “I didn’t tell him.”
“So wait… You just left? Without a word to him?”
“I couldn’t bear the idea of a big, ugly confrontation. And besides, what did it matter? He’s made his choice, so I made mine.”
“Abby…”
“I’ve been gone since early this morning, and he hasn’t even called. What does that tell you?”
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason—”
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’s finished, and I’m left to start all over—again.”
“Will you reopen the store?”
“I don’t know.” The very idea of the work that would be involved in getting her store open before the season began was so overwhelming she couldn’t even think about it. “Tiffany’s store is in my old spot.”
“I heard Laura is looking for someone to take on the gift shop in the Sand & Surf. Maybe you could do that this summer and then see what’s what next year.”
The idea sparked a beat of interest in Abby. She’d have to do something to stay busy. “I’ll talk to her about it.”
“Good!” Always the eternal optimist, Janey beamed with pleasure at having come up with a plan.
“How’re you feeling?” Abby rested her palm on Janey’s extended belly and felt a flutter of movement within that had her eyes filling again.
“I’m feeling huge and unwieldy.”
“You look beautiful.”
“Joe says the same thing, but he sort of has to.”
“You’re so lucky to have him.”
“And I know that. You’re going to find your true love, too. I know you are.”
Abby shrugged off Janey’s certainty. “I don’t care about that anymore. I’m going to focus on me for once. I’m going to let loose and do all the things I’ve never done because I was too busy trying to be the perfect girlfriend, the perfect lady. Enough of that.”
Janey eyed her with trepidation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not quite sure yet, but this is going to be my summer of rebellion, so look out.”
“You’re totally freaking me out right now.”
“Maybe it’s time I freaked everyone out. I spent my twenties waiting for your brother to decide to marry me, and I’ve spent the first part of my thirties working like a dog and waiting for Cal to marry me. I’d say it’s high time I busted loose and let off some steam.”
“What does ‘letting off some steam’ entail, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“For one thing, I’m going to start swearing. I plan to do some partying, probably some drinking, and if all goes well, perhaps some sex just for the sake of having sex. No relationship required.”
Janey’s mouth fell open. “I can’t see you doing any of that.”
“Because I’m too good to be true. Enough of that…bullshit. It hasn’t gotten me any of the things I truly want, so maybe if I’m bad for a while, I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
“Abby—”
“Don’t. Please don’t. You can’t possibly underst
and how frustrated I am. You have a husband who absolutely adores you and a baby on the way, a career in the works that’s perfect for you. It’s all fallen into place for you, Janey.”
“It’s not all perfect.”
“It’s pretty damned close.”
“Yes, I suppose it is, but still—”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s high time I shook things up a bit, wouldn’t you say?”
“I, um, well… Will you promise me you’ll be careful? I’ll be so worried about you getting hurt.”
“I’ve already been hurt plenty, and I’ve survived. I think I can survive one wild summer.”
“If you say so,” Janey said, but she didn’t seem convinced.
The more Abby thought about it, the more certain she became that busting loose for a few months was exactly what she needed to get past this latest setback in her life plan. At the end of the summer, she’d reevaluate where things stood, and maybe then she’d have an idea of what her next step ought to be. Until then, it was high time she had some fun.
Walking from Grant’s house toward North Harbor, Adam nodded to a few people he recognized from around town but didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Rather, he stewed over the fact that his brother had seemed so detached and exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept properly in days.
Something was terribly wrong, a realization that filled Adam with anxiety. While he didn't see his siblings as often as he’d like to, he talked to them all frequently and knew them as well as he knew anyone. To see one of them deeply troubled over something and working so hard to hide it from everyone was upsetting.
Of course, Grant had just been through a major trauma and was no doubt still reeling from the close call. From what he’d been able to piece together, his brothers had been asked to fill in as crew members on a Race Week boat captained by a guy named Steve Jacobson when the rest of Jacobson’s crew had been felled by the stomach flu. The sailboat had been on its way back to the island in deep fog when a freighter hit it. Steve had been killed.
Adam’s brothers had spent enough time in the cold Atlantic to suffer from hypothermia. Grant had been hailed for saving the life of his good friend Dan Torrington, who’d been the most seriously injured with broken ribs and a broken arm. Maybe something else had happened that Grant wasn’t able to talk about yet.
