A Nantucket Affair

by Pamela M. Kelley

  Chase hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the request, but then nodded. “Sure, that’s actually a good idea.”

  “I have them now and then,” she teased and was pleased when he cracked a grin. His earlier bad mood was totally gone.

  He put his slice of pizza down and leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “You’d fall apart, totally.”

  He laughed. “Seriously, I might. I don’t want to ever find out.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.” She stood and cleared her paper plate and glanced at his. She wasn’t sure if he was going in for another slice or not, but he slid his empty plate toward her and she threw them both in the trash. Then she went to the freezer and pulled out a carton of vanilla fudge ripple.

  “Did you save room for ice cream?”

  The easy smile that she loved so much slid across his face.

  “What do you think?”

  She scooped ice cream into two bowls, and they took them into the living room and settled on the sofa to watch a little television. Beth sat sideways and rested her feet on Chase’s lap. His ice cream was gone in two seconds, and as she’d hoped, he started rubbing her feet while she slowly savored the rest of her ice cream. Chase gave the best foot massages.

  A few minutes later, she was feeling totally relaxed and glad that they’d both managed to help the other to relax. She’d always thought they’d make a good team and they had for years, but now that they were together romantically, it was even better. They complemented each other and she’d been pleased to point out to Chase recently that she’d looked at the numbers and since they officially became a couple, the business was more profitable too—up 10% overall. It could be a coincidence, of course, natural growth of a solid business. But she liked to think that it was partly because they were now a team, in all ways, and that carried over to the business.

  That was just an added plus, though. It had been somewhat of a risk for the two of them to date and work together. But Beth had known in her heart that it would work, that they would work. She’d know long before Chase had. He’d finally came to his senses and she had to give him credit—he’d tried to make up for lost time. They got along great and never fought about anything. She’d admitted that to Abby once. She and Chase’s younger sister were best friends, and Abby had been surprised.

  “You never fight at all? No disagreements ever?”

  “Well, of course we disagree occasionally, but it’s always little stuff. Nothing important and there’s never any anger there.”

  “Hm. You do know that’s not entirely normal, right? People fight. You must still be in your honeymoon phase.”

  Beth didn’t think so. “I don’t know about that. We just get along. Maybe it helps that we were friends for so long first.”

  “Maybe. I am happy for you both. And maybe a tiny bit jealous. Jeff and I get along great, but we sometimes have rip-roaring fights. He can be a jerk sometimes.” She smiled and added, “And he’d probably say the same thing about me. But we both love each other dearly. It’s all good.”

  Beth was glad that she and Chase never fought. She knew a lot of couples did and that it was normal and healthy, but she liked things the way they were. So far, their relationship was going as well as she’d imagined—better, even. A few friends had expressed concern when she’d told them that she was going back to working for Chase and that they were going to start dating. They worried that either their relationship or her job would suffer if they spent that much time together.

  But that was one thing Beth had been confident about. She knew how well they worked together and she loved her job. She felt like a true partner to Chase and found real satisfaction in understanding his business and working with their clients. And there was no shortage of conversation between the two of them. Now and then, they laughed and said that they really should stop talking so much about work when they were home, but the reality was they both loved it, so it was something they were always eager to talk about. And now, with a few successful house flips behind them, there was even more to discuss.

  Chapter 11

  Kristen was surprised and pleased when Tyler called the day after she’d had the girls over and suggested dinner out at his favorite restaurant.

  “I take it the writing is going well?”

  “I’m a quarter of the way in now and the story is starting to hum along. It’s been a good couple of days and now I’m craving prime rib.”

  Kristen laughed. She knew Tyler was like her in that when they were deep into their work, they sometimes forgot to eat.

  “That sounds good to me. I’m just about done for the day, too, and heading into the shower.”

  “Great. I’ll swing by around six.”

  Tyler drove and when they reached the airport restaurant, it was busy but not as crowded as most places downtown would be. Crosswinds was a casual, pub-like environment and a popular spot for the locals. The food was reasonably priced and consistently good. When they were settled at their table, Kristen ordered a glass of cabernet and Tyler surprised her by ordering water.

  “No O’Doul’s tonight?” He always ordered O’Doul’s non-alcoholic beer when they went out.

  He smiled and she noticed he was tapping his fingers on the table. One of his nervous habits. She hadn’t seen him do it in a long time.

  “Just not in the mood for beer. Do you know what you’re going to get?”

  “I’m not sure.” She had barely looked at the menu and turned her attention to it so she’d be ready when Lori, the waitress that usually waited on them, returned with their drinks.

  She set their drinks down in front of them a few minutes later. “So, do you need another minute or two to decide?”

  “I’m ready,” Tyler said.

  “I’ll do the chicken pot pie.” Kristen folded the menu shut. She’d had the pot pie before, and it was always good.

  “Prime rib for me, medium.”

  Lori put their orders in and a few minutes later, set down a basket of rolls and two salads.

  Kristen reached for a hot roll. “So, the writing is going well now?” She was glad for him. Tyler had struggled with the beginning of his newest book and she knew it was stressing him out. He was quite a bit behind schedule.

  “It is, finally. It’s starting to come together. I wasn’t sure if it ever would. It’s never been this hard before,” he admitted.

  Kristen knew it was his mother’s death that had thrown him off in so many ways. He was still hurting from the loss, and it had affected his creativity, too.

  “Is it starting to get a little easier?” She reached out, took hold of one of his hands and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  He nodded, understanding what she meant.

  “A little. There’s not as much darkness now. But it’s still hard. You know how close we were?”

  Kristen nodded. Both Tyler and his brother, Andrew, had adored their mother and talked to her several times a week.

  “That’s the hardest thing. If I’m having a good day or a bad day, I reach for the phone to call her and then realize she’s not there.”

  “I’m sorry. You can always call me.” She wanted so badly to help, to take away the pain that was still so clearly reflected in his eyes.

  He smiled sadly. “Thank you. It’s just not the same. You know what I mean.”

  “I know. But if you’re having a rough day, it might help to talk to someone. Even me.”

  He smiled slightly. “You’re right. It probably would.”

  “How is your dad doing?” Their father was in his mid-seventies and still worked hard at a hobby he loved. He had a machine shop attached to the house and did all kinds of wood-working projects and carvings. Some of them were beautiful pieces of art that he sold at local galleries, and Andrew took some to his Nantucket shop.

  “I think he’s doing better than I am, actually. He says he joined
a local bereavement group and that it helps to focus on his woodworking.”

  When Lori brought their dinners out, Kristen ordered a second glass of chardonnay. Tyler asked about Chase and Beth’s new flipping project and they chatted about that for a bit.

  “I always thought it sounded like an interesting thing to do. Until something goes wrong unexpectedly, like their plumbing situation. And at least Chase is a contractor so he can do most of the work himself,” Tyler said.

  “I know. Those shows never share that some houses don’t sell fast enough or end up a loss because of higher expenses. It’s way too risky for me. Though it does look fun, when it goes the right way.”

  Tyler ate every bit of his prime rib and asked for the dessert menu, while Kristen packed up half her pot pie to take home. It was good, just too much and so rich. But she helped Tyler share a dessert. He ordered a special and it was very good—a peanut butter and chocolate ice cream pie with a cookie crust and hot fudge and whipped cream on top.

  While he was happily polishing off the dessert and seemed in a somewhat receptive mood, she floated an idea that came to her earlier.

  “You mentioned that your father was going to a bereavement group. Maybe you should look into something similar here? It might be good to talk to other people that are going through the same struggle.”

  As expected, his immediate response was negative. “I think I’m probably too young for that. Isn’t it mostly for people who have lost spouses?”

  Hm. Maybe it was. “I’m not sure, but you could check. If not a group, maybe a therapist or something? A professional to talk things out?”

  “You mean therapy? Yeah, did that once. It didn’t help. At all.”

  Kristen sensed a certain tone in his voice. Tyler was not receptive to the therapy idea or even the bereavement group. She’d drop it for now. But maybe she’d look into it and find out more.

  “Aren’t you going to finish that?” Tyler glanced at Kristen’s glass of wine, which was more than half-full.

  “I shouldn’t have ordered it. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but once I start eating, I always lose interest in the wine.”

  Tyler shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it. I could never not finish.”

  When they were done, he insisted on paying the check, as usual. Sometimes, if Kristen was fast, she could grab the check, and she liked to do that so it wasn’t always Tyler paying.

  When they arrived home, she assumed that Tyler would invite her in. When he didn’t, she asked if he wanted to come over to her place and watch a little TV. She wasn’t ready for the night to end and normally after dinner, they would spend more time together.

  But Tyler yawned. “I’m really beat. It was a long day today and I’m ready to crash. You don’t mind, do you?”

  She wanted to scream that yes, she did mind. But that would be selfish.

  “No, of course not. Sleep well.”

  “Actually, do you want to come in for a minute? I have something I want to give to you. I picked it up the other day.” He suddenly had a bit more energy, and Kristen was intrigued as she followed him into his cottage.

  “I’ll be right back.” He went into his bedroom, while Kristen waited in the kitchen and glanced around the room. It was a mess. Pizza boxes were on the kitchen counter and coffee table. A bag of trash sat in the corner, waiting to go outside, and mail was piled up on the kitchen island.

  When he returned holding a large paper bag, he followed her gaze and made a face.

  “I know, it’s a mess. I need to call Angela. I canceled her last week because I didn’t want to be disturbed. I was having trouble getting into the flow.” He handed her the paper bag with a shy grin.

  “What’s this?”

  “You mentioned that you needed some new inspiration and that you wanted to try something different. I was at the Nantucket bookstore browsing, and stumbled onto this and thought of you.”

  Kristen peeked into the bag and drew out a gorgeous hardcover coffee-table book. It was an oversized collection of stunning Nantucket sunsets. The colors were vivid and the images so breathtaking that goosebumps swept across her arms. The images would be great jumping off points for a whole series of paintings. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift, and she felt her eyes grow damp.

  “Thank you. This is incredible.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He leaned over and touched his lips to hers, and she kissed him back and hoped that maybe he’d changed his mind about wanting an early night. She wanted to keep kissing him. But after a moment, he pulled back and brushed a wayward piece of hair off her face.

  “Thanks for coming out tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  When Kristen left, Tyler locked the door behind her, went into his living room and collapsed on the sofa. He tried to resist the urge that had grown stronger throughout the evening. For ten more minutes, he resisted as his gaze kept drifting to the polished hardwood hutch and the bottom cabinet. He was simply too unsettled to have invited Kristen in for long—because he knew he was going to satisfy the urge, even as he tried to resist. He knew it was going to win over and if he was honest with himself, he’d been looking forward to it all day and all night. That’s why he didn’t have the O’Doul’s. Because he knew he was coming home to the real thing.

  Slowly, he got up and made his way over to the cabinet, opened it and reached way in the back for the slim bottle of Tito’s vodka. He chuckled to himself as he saw the label. At least it was gluten-free—not that it mattered. He got his favorite glass from the kitchen, a tall tumbler with an ocean blue bottom that gave the clear liquid a blue tone. He added two ice cubes and then vodka—two thirds of the way up the side of the glass. A splash of soda and a squeeze of lemon and he had the perfect drink.

  He took a slow sip and felt an indescribable rush as the cool alcohol slid down his throat. The first drink disappeared quickly. He’d always been a fast drinker, which was part of the problem. He made a second drink and tried to take his time with it. He sipped more slowly as he savored the taste. Vodka was a funny alcohol. It took its time kicking in with any effects, so it was easy to have more than you should, thinking the first drink or two was harmless. But then, it would catch up and hit you all at once.

  Tyler was sprawled out on the sofa clicking through TV channels when the buzz hit and a hazy warmth spread through him. It was a delicious sense of well-being. He vaguely knew it was a lie but for the moment, he chose to believe in it. He told himself that he had the drinking under control. That he could stop whenever he wanted and that maybe he’d never really had a problem, he just didn’t know how to handle alcohol then. Now, he was older, wiser. And it seemed to help. It dulled the pain and put off the emptiness and the hurt for a little while.

  He woke at three in the morning with a pounding headache. He was still on the living room sofa and had a stiff neck from falling asleep in a bad position. The television was blaring an infomercial about a food sealer. Tyler watched, mesmerized, and considered finding his phone and ordering one. But it seemed like too much of an effort, and really what would he do with a food sealer? As he slowly began to wake and to sober up, he realized that wouldn’t be smart.

  He glanced toward the liquor cabinet and saw that the bottle of vodka that had been nearly three-quarters full was more than half-gone. And his glass on the coffee table was completely empty. He’d had a lot to drink. More than he’d planned. He got up, put the vodka bottle back in its spot, way in the back where it was mostly hidden behind casserole dishes and other things that rarely saw use. So there was little need to open that cabinet.

  He rinsed his glass and put it in the dishwasher, then padded into his bedroom and climbed into bed. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that he had no other vodka in the house, and the small amount left was not enough.

  Chapter 12

  “You’re not hungry today?” Lisa asked Rhett when he got up for a second cup of coffee and didn’t make a plate of food. They were si
tting at breakfast with Angela and the Mortons, a pleasant couple in their early sixties who were enjoying their first trip to Nantucket. The inn was full but everyone else was still sleeping, so Angela and Lisa were enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Rhett had joined them later than usual. Normally he was the first one in line for coffee, but today he had slept in. When Lisa got up, he was still sound asleep and she didn’t want to disturb him.

  “I need to wake up a little first. I didn’t sleep great last night. Still feel exhausted.” He had dark circles under his eyes, and Lisa had noticed that he was getting up more during the night lately.

  “Do you feel sick?” She hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

  “No, not at all. Just tired. Need a good night’s sleep. Hopefully, I’ll get it tonight.”

  “Is everything going okay with the restaurants?” He hadn’t mentioned there being any issues, but if there were, it would explain why he wasn’t sleeping well.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rhett got up and went to get some food. He returned a few minutes later with a plate of fresh cut fruit and one slice of buttered toast. Lisa raised her eyebrows.

  “That’s all you’re having?”

  He chuckled as he settled back into his seat and picked up a piece of toast. “Remember I mentioned that I’ve gained a few pounds? I was serious. They need to come off. I had to go up a notch on my belt, and that hasn’t happened in years. I’d like to blame it on your good cooking, but that wouldn’t be fair. No one forces me to go back for seconds.”

  “Hm. Well, we probably could both cut back a little. I’ve been thinking about trying to eat more plant-based meals and cut back on meat.”

  Rhett looked alarmed at the thought. “There’s no need to go that far.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. Plant-based is more than a bowl of broccoli. I’ve been researching it a bit and there are a lot of good, filling recipes.”

  Rhett still looked skeptical.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll still have plenty of meat options. I just want to eat more veggies overall. I don’t plan to cut anything out entirely, just eat less meat.”