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Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-16 (Gansett Island Series)

Page 344

by Marie Force


  Paul glanced at Hope. “What do you think?”

  “I agree with David. It certainly won’t make anything worse.”

  “It would take a lot out of her to travel,” Paul said.

  “I’d be there to make sure she was comfortable,” Hope said. She could ask Jenny to keep Ethan for a couple of days while they were away. Ethan was familiar enough with her and Alex by now that he’d be okay staying with them.

  “That’s a lot to ask. You have Ethan…”

  Paul looked so sad that Hope’s heart went out to him. If she could somehow make this easier on him, she’d do it in a minute. “He’d be fine with Jenny and Alex for a couple of days, if they’d be willing.”

  “They would,” Paul said.

  She could almost see him trying to figure out how he could be off the island and away from the business for even a few days.

  “How soon are we talking?”

  “I think it should be done as soon as possible,” David said.

  “Okay,” Paul said, resigned. “You can set it up?”

  “I’ll take care of everything.”

  “We would’ve been so lost without your help, David.”

  “I only wish I could do more to slow the progression.”

  “Nothing short of a miracle could do that,” Paul said.

  “One thing I’m sure of,” David said, “is the care you and Alex have given her and keeping her at home all this time has given her a much better quality of life than she would’ve had otherwise. You should be very proud of yourselves.”

  Paul nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment, but he didn’t look proud. He looked defeated.

  Chapter 3

  By the time he got his mother and Hope home and settled, Paul was ready to give up on the day. But that wasn’t an option when there was work to be done. There was always work to be done. He changed into work clothes and then sat on his bed to put on socks. A wave of despair overtook him, threatening to suck him under.

  “We’ve tried so hard, Pop,” he whispered. “We tried to do what you would’ve done and kept Mom home with us. But it’s so hard.”

  Before he got sick with cancer, George Martinez had been a strong, capable man who never let anything get him down. He worked hard, loved hard, played hard and had very high expectations for both of his sons. Disappointing their father had never been high on their to-do list.

  His father’s voice was always in Paul’s head, guiding every decision he made in business and in life. George Martinez was the yardstick by which Paul measured himself as a man, and today he found himself sorely lacking. They were going to the mainland to have his mother evaluated by a dementia expert who would—again—recommend she be placed in an in-patient residential home for her own good—and theirs.

  Except how could it be “good” for any of them to have her living a ferry or plane ride away from the two people who loved her most? They were tied to the island thanks to the business their father had founded more than forty years ago. It wasn’t like they could suddenly abandon what they’d all worked so hard to build. When they hired Hope, they’d bought themselves some time. But what if that time was up now? What would that mean for her and Ethan when they’d recently uprooted their lives to move to Gansett?

  Paul’s stomach was tied up in knots, and he still had to talk to Alex about the appointment with David, not to mention what he’d learned about Ethan’s father. Steeling himself to face today and whatever lay ahead with his mother, Paul stood and tried to shake off the gloomy mood. He had to believe his father would be proud of the herculean effort he and Alex had put forth to keep their mother at home for as long as they had. He had to believe that because the alternative didn’t bear entertaining.

  He left his room to encounter angry shouts coming from the living room, where he’d left his mother and Hope.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, young lady,” Marion said, “but I have no time to take naps during the day. I have a husband and two sons to care for. Who will do the washing if I’m napping? Who will cook their dinner?”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to do all that when you get up,” Hope said calmly.

  No matter how much crap Marion shoveled on Hope, she never lost her temper, never lost her composure or her patience. It was admirable, because at times, Paul wanted to scream his head off when his mother went off on him. Thank God for Hope. He and Alex had said that so many times since she arrived over the summer and literally saved their lives.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Nope,” she said. “Go on ahead to work. We’ll be fine.”

  “There’s my George now! Tell this woman, whoever she is, that I have things to do, will you please?”

  It was a source of never-ending black humor to him and Alex that their mother couldn’t remember what happened a minute ago, except in the middle of an argument in which her memory became crystal clear. They had morbidly joked that they should fight with her constantly.

  “Marion, Hope is just trying to help,” Paul said, channeling his father, who’d adored his wife to the point of distraction. “Will you please let her help?”

  He watched as some of the starch went out of Marion’s rigid shoulders. “If that’s what you’d like me to do, George.”

  “It is. It’s what I’d like you to do.”

  “All right, then.” She glanced at Hope tentatively. “What did you want me to do again?”

  Hope nodded for the door, encouraging Paul to get while the getting was good. He and Alex had made her promise from the outset to call them if anything ever happened that she couldn’t handle—even if they were working. They’d promised to come running. She’d yet to call.

  As he walked out of the house and crossed the yard to the building where they kept their equipment, Paul texted his brother. Where are you?

  Alex replied immediately. Chesterfield.

  Stay put. I’m going to stop by.

  I’m here for the day.

  Paul loaded the truck with the tools he’d need for the abbreviated workday mapped out for him by Jenny, who now managed their workload as well as the store, and headed to the Chesterfield property, which was now owned by Jared and Lizzie James. They’d turned Mrs. Chesterfield’s estate into a first-class wedding venue, which would host Alex and Jenny’s wedding next month.

  Alex had made the secret garden inside the elaborate hedges his own pet project, which Paul supported and encouraged. His brother had given up a fantastic job working at the US Botanic Garden in Washington, DC, to come home to help Paul when their mother’s condition took a turn for the worse.

  If cultivating the gardens at the Chesterfield gave Alex an outlet for his considerable horticultural talents, Paul refused to begrudge him that. He’d never begrudge either of them anything that brought them even the slightest bit of joy in the midst of the never-ending sorrow of their mother’s illness.

  Jenny brought Alex joy, too. His brother had been a different person since she came into his life, and no one was happier for both of them than Paul.

  He parked in the circular driveway in front of the huge stone house and headed directly for the garden. Inside the tall hedges, Paul found his brother clipping and pruning and tending to the blooms, whistling while he worked. Paul supposed if he got laid three times a day without fail, he’d whistle while he worked, too.

  The thought made him feel petty, so he squelched it as fast as he had it. “Hey.”

  “Hey, what’s up? How was the appointment with David?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not bad, but there was a development.” He explained David’s concerns and the plan to take Marion to the mainland to be evaluated by a dementia specialist.

  Alex sighed, wiped the sweat from his brow and took a long gulp of the ice-cold water he guzzled all day long. “We’ve known we were living on borrowed time for a while now.”

  “I

guess. What’re we going to do if they tell us—again—that she needs in-patient care?”

  “We’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. No sense speculating about what-ifs.”

  After two years of living with his mother’s rapidly declining health, Paul had become an expert in speculating about what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. “I’ll go with her. Hope will come, too, if you and Jenny wouldn’t mind having Ethan for a couple of days. He can stay in my room.”

  “Of course we will. He’s no trouble. Are you sure you’re up to going? I could do it.”

  “You’ve got a lot going on with the wedding and the house. You need to be here right now.”

  “I can take a couple of days away.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

  “What else is bugging you?”

  “Other than our mother’s increasingly depressing illness?”

  “Yeah, other than that.”

  “I keep thinking about Dad. You ever think about him?”

  “Every day. Hard not to when Mom mistakes us for him all the time.”

  “I just hope he knows we’ve done everything we could.”

  “He knows, bro. People tell us all the time how proud he’d be of the way we’ve taken care of Mom and kept the business afloat, too. What else could we do that we haven’t done?”

  “I don’t know.” Paul kicked at the dirt, frustration beating through him like an extra heartbeat. “I just feel like if he was here, it wouldn’t feel so chaotic and out of control. He’d know what to do.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He’d be so heartbroken to see her this way. He wouldn’t have the first clue how to cope with it. Maybe this is why he died first. You ever think of that?”

  It had never crossed Paul’s mind that his supremely competent father would’ve been unable to cope. “No.”

  “We’ve elevated him to god status in our minds,” Alex said. “But in fact, he was just a man who loved his wife, and this would’ve killed him. It would kill me to see Jenny this way someday. I hope to God that never happens, because it would wreck me.”

  Alex had certainly given him something to think about other than the fact that his father would be disappointed in them.

  “You know what you need?” Alex asked.

  “I can hardly wait to hear this.”

  “A few days away from it all. Take Mom to the mainland and then go somewhere while she’s in the hospital. Do something fun. Hell, take Hope with you. She could use a break, too.”

  Paul was immediately hit with the unreasonable fear that Alex knew he’d kissed Hope. But how could he possibly know that? He’d been asleep when it happened. And it wasn’t like it was going to happen again, so what did it matter?

  Except… the idea of a few days away from it all with Hope as his companion had his mind racing with all sort of inappropriate images. That, right there, was dangerous thinking, so he shook it off.

  “I gotta get to it. See you at home later.”

  “Hey, Paul?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. We’re both doing the best we can in an awful situation. No one is judging us, least of all Dad. If anything, he’s watching over us and making sure we don’t lose our own minds.”

  “Probably.” It was a far better scenario than some he’d entertained recently. “Let me ask you something else…” He’d debated whether he should say anything about what Ethan had told him. On the one hand, he felt disloyal to Hope for telling anyone, but he was more loyal to his brother and mother.

  “Sure.”

  “Yesterday, Ethan told me his dad is in jail.”

  “What? Seriously? What for?”

  “He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to make a big thing of it with him, but it’s got me wondering.”

  “There was nothing about a spouse in jail on the background check we had done.”

  “Which leads me to more wondering.”

  “Wow.” Alex leaned against the handle of the rake he’d been using, seeming to need the support. “So what does this mean?”

  “It means that we have a fantastic nurse helping us with our mom who has a past that she doesn’t want anyone to know about.”

  “Maybe he went to jail after they split up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Should we ask her about it?” Alex asked.

  “I really don’t want to do that.”

  “Neither do I. Are we taking chances with Mom’s safety by not looking into this further?”

  “I don’t think so. I trust Hope, and the guy’s in jail so it’s not like he’s about to come after her or anything.”

  “We need to keep a close eye on things.”

  “Agree.”

  “Let me know what you hear from David.”

  “I will.”

  “Could I ask you something?” Alex asked, seeming weary all of a sudden.

  “Of course,” Paul said, becoming resigned to getting nothing done that day.

  “Have you noticed anything…different…about Jenny lately?”

  “Different how?”

  “She’s quiet and withdrawn, which isn’t like her.”

  “I know it’s hard to sneak in conversation when you’re having constant sex, but have you asked her?”

  Alex grunted out a laugh. “That’s not all we do, and yes, I’ve asked her. Several times.”

  “And?”

  “She says everything’s fine, and that’s all she says. I don’t know what to do. I’m starting to wonder if she’s having second thoughts about the wedding and everything.”

  Incredulous, Paul shook his head. “No… No way. For some strange reason, she’s crazy about you. That much I know for sure.”

  “I thought I knew that for sure, too. But now… I don’t know anymore.”

  “For what it’s worth, I live with you two, and I haven’t sensed any sign of discontent in her. I’m not paying the same level of attention that you are, so I could’ve missed it, but all I see is happy and crazy in love. Is it possible you’re seeing trouble where there isn’t any?”

  “I’ve asked myself that same question, but I keep coming back to how glum she is every time we have to deal with the wedding.”

  “Try to find a way to get her to tell you why. It would suck to get to the big day thinking she has doubts about something.”

  “Yeah, I know. She’s due here soon. We’re meeting with Lizzie to go over final details.”

  “Sounds like a good opportunity to figure things out.”

  “Hope so.”

  “Try not to worry too much. Could just be wedding jitters.”

  Alex nodded. “I’ll see you at home.”

  “See you then.” Worried now about Alex, too, Paul returned to his truck and headed to the other side of the island to do a fall cleanup for a regular client. The mindless work gave him far too much time to think. He could only hope the situation with Jenny didn’t turn into a big disappointment for his brother. They had enough on their plates without more turmoil.

  Though he’d never wish his mother’s illness on anyone, least of all himself, sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be free from the routine worries of everyday life. He’d like to have a switch he could flip when he didn’t want to think about dementia or taxes or all the paperwork he’d let pile up in the office or the new equipment he needed to purchase before the spring.

  He’d like to be able to flip the switch and not think about how long it had been since he’d had sex or how much he’d liked kissing the lovely nurse who worked for them. He’d like to stop thinking about that, and he really wished he didn’t want to know so badly why Ethan’s father was in jail.

  After Paul left, Alex continued to work in the garden while trying not to slip into total panic mode over what was going on with Jenny. Other than the short time they spent apart at the start of their relationship, things between them had been remarkably easy. The connection they’d shared from the first minute they
met had carried them through some rough times.

  He was well aware that theirs was her first significant relationship since she lost her fiancé in the 9/11 attacks on New York City. He’d tried to be respectful of her memories and to give her space to grieve on Toby’s birthday, their anniversary and the date of his death. At the same time, she’d stood by his side as his mother’s condition worsened, her support never wavering no matter how awful it got.

  And at the end of every long, trying day, he had her in his bed, and nothing in his life could compare to the sublime pleasure he found in her arms. He couldn’t get enough of her, and until recently, he’d thought the feeling was entirely mutual. Now he wasn’t so sure—and that scared him more than anything ever had.

  The crunch of tires on the driveway drew him out of the secret garden in the hedges that had been Mrs. Chesterfield’s pride and joy and was now his special project. Jenny brought her car to a stop in the circular driveway.

  Alex put down his rake, wiped his hands on his pants and went to meet her. She wore jeans that did great things for her ass and a denim shirt with the Martinez Lawn & Garden logo embroidered over the breast pocket. She’d turned their retail store into a profitable business and simplified his life and Paul’s with her organizational skills and management abilities.

  He’d be lost without her in every corner of his life, which was why he felt such an urgent need to know what was troubling her. More than anything, it frightened him that she was clearly keeping something from him, which was also unlike her. When he reached her car, he opened the door to help her out.

  “Hi there,” he said.

  “Hey. How’s your day going?”

  “It just got a whole lot better.”

  She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad.

  His heart ached at the thought of her being sad about something and not being able or willing to talk to him about it for whatever reason. “Ready for this?”

 
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