The Runaway

by Jennifer Bernard

  But she couldn’t say that because she no longer thought it was true. When Mark had finally answered her question about the mountains, she’d seen something in his face she’d never seen before. A darkness, an intensity. In that moment, she realized that Mark didn’t show that deeper self very often. And she knew, without a doubt, that he never showed it to Sophie.

  How could he love someone completely if he never shared his real self?

  “You never mentioned anything about food,” she said in answer to Sophie’s question. “It was just Jell-O!”

  “First of all, Jell-O is not food. Second, do you have any idea what those guys put in it? I don’t even want to say, because you might throw up all over your shoes. Here.”

  She handed Gracie her sandals. Dirty, mangled, torn, the poor things looked as if they’d been trampled by a herd of elephants. “Um, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. What else is a wing woman for? So you’re okay?”

  “I’m okay. I learned my lesson. You can skip the lecture.” Privately, Gracie thought Sophie had done a terrible job as wing woman, but she didn’t want to pick a fight at the moment. She wanted to squirrel herself away on the Buttercup and think about what Mark had said about the mountains.

  “Good. Lectures are boring. Did you hear that, Mark? No lectures.” Sophie helped Mark to his feet, then twined her arm through his. “I know I got distracted at the party, but do I get points for saving Gracie’s shoes?” She smiled up at Mark, looking so beautiful in her shoulder-baring halter dress that Gracie couldn’t imagine anyone being mad at her.

  “You need to talk to Ian,” was all Mark said. “That drug dealer friend of his crossed a line with Gracie.”

  “Why is it Ian’s fault?” Sophie sniffed. “You’re both being far too serious. I’m starving. Who’s up for tacos?”

  Gracie seized the opportunity. “You two go ahead. I’m going to bed. My head’s still a little fuzzy.”

  “We’ll walk you back,” said Mark right away, even though Sophie scowled at him.

  “No. I can see the marina from here, I’ll be fine. You guys go. I’m armed now.” She waved her sandals at them.

  “With shoes?” Mark asked.

  “No, with this.” She worked her knife out of the little holder she’d attached to the strap of the right sandal. All that elephant-trampling hadn’t hurt it, luckily. She popped the blade open.

  Sophie jerked backward.

  “You had a knife with you?”

  “Yes, but I couldn’t figure out where to hide it in this dress, so I fastened it to my shoe. I’ll never do that again because you never know when you might want to kick your shoes off and dance. That’s the big lesson of the night.” She closed the knife, hoping that would make Sophie relax. It didn’t work. Sophie kept staring at her as if she’d turned into a dead skunk.

  “You had a knife at my brother’s party?”

  Gracie exchanged a glance with Mark, who didn’t look nearly as shocked as Sophie. In fact, amusement lurked in his dark eyes. “Gracie’s not from around here, have you forgotten? Personally, I’m glad she’s armed. Now I don’t have to worry so much. Except about anyone who bothers her, of course.”

  “You know how to use it?” Sophie asked Gracie.

  “Of course. Want to see—” She held it out, but Sophie and Mark both waved their hands “no.”

  Mark turned to his girlfriend. “You mentioned tacos, Sophie?”

  He slung his arm over her shoulders and guided her away from the water’s edge.

  Gracie watched them go. A sad, empty feeling came over her, like a hangover. She’d been having so much fun with Mark, and then it was over.

  It was just an illusion anyway. He was Sophie’s, and Sophie was his, and Gracie wasn’t here for anything but answers.

  And she’d gotten close, for a split second.

  Mark’s aversion to mountains—that was a clue, right? That meant she was at the right place, with the right person.

  That was great news. And yet also bad news, because she couldn’t leave now. And staying, watching Mark with Sophie…well, that wasn’t much fun. With every day that passed, it became less fun.

  She’d wanted to see the world and find some answers about her true origins. She definitely hadn’t put “develop an unrequited crush” on that list.

  The truth was, she’d never had a true crush, the kind that made you pine and sigh. Just like she’d never been deeply in love. Her feelings for boys she’d dated had never gone past the surface.

  If this was what a crush felt like, she didn’t like it.

  Sighing, knife nestled in one hand, sandals dangling from the other, she walked toward the lights of the marina. Easy come, easy go, right? She’d just have to un-develop that crush.

  How could she do that? Maybe it was time for a Rockwell family group text.

  Crushes are good for the soul. That was Kai’s very unhelpful advice. I had a crush on Nicole when she still thought I was the devil.

  But this one is unrequited, she pointed out. And he’s my boss. She left out the fact that he had a girlfriend. And that there was a tiny, microscopic chance he was related to her. What was one more layer of impossible?

  Are you sure about that? Rocky Peak is littered with the broken hearts of boys who’ve had crushes on you. That was Jake, who always knew how to make her feel better. She loved all her brothers, of course, but Jake was something special. Just being in his easygoing, charming presence made people feel better about themselves. She missed him like crazy.

  Curled up on the cozy bed in the Buttercup with a water bottle, she was finally feeling more herself after that very strange night. The parts with Mark stood out much more than the moments with the guy who’d nearly assaulted her. That memory was fuzzy; she remembered only a general sense of uneasiness and the feel of a clammy hand where it shouldn’t be.

  I’m very sure. He treats me like a kid, or like some kind of irritating chore. Like he has to babysit me and I’m getting on his last nerve.

  Sounds like he likes you, texted Griffin.

  Very funny.

  I’m serious. He’s your boss, so he’s not supposed to like you. He’s trying to fight it. Of course he likes you. Everyone likes you.

  She didn’t agree with his overall point—of course everyone didn’t like her. That made her sound like some kind of saint. She wasn’t feeling at all saintly at the moment, not with the very inappropriate feelings she was having toward someone with a girlfriend.

  Was Mark being grouchy because he was fighting not to like her? That possibility deserved to be obsessed over. She planned to do that as soon as the group text ended.

  You need to focus on the things you don’t like about him. Isabelle chimed in for the first time. Find a feature or a quality that drives you insane. Blow it up really big in your mind and blot out all the good stuff.

  What if he’s perfect?

  Uh-oh. Code red emergency. Was that some kind of paramedic language from Kai?

  He can’t be perfect, said Isabelle. Only one man is perfect.

  The chorus of me’s from her brothers made Gracie laugh.

  And it’s not any of you guys, Isabelle added.

  Maybe Izzy had a point. Mark wasn’t really perfect. He was kind of grouchy, especially first thing in the morning before he’d had his coffee. He worked too hard. Getting him to talk about himself was like pulling teeth. He had a few physical flaws, too, come to think of it. One of his teeth overlapped the one next to it. His left ear stuck out farther than his right ear. His stubble grew in very dark, so by the end of the day, he looked disreputable, like a pirate. Just when it was getting super-sexy, he shaved it.

  Most of all, he had a girlfriend.

  And then there was always the question mark about her identity and possible connection to him.

  But even so…none of those things seemed like flaws to her. They were just…Mark.

  Time to change the subject. What’s new in Rocky Peak?

  Look
who’s changing the subject, Izzy answered.

  Gracie ignored that. Any new pregnancies, engagements or weddings I should know about? Jake?

  Still not pregnant, he answered.

  Engaged?

  Good God, no.

  Even over text, Jake’s dry tone made her laugh. We’re the only two single Rockwells left. You’d better keep me posted.

  You’ll be the first to know.

  How are the renovations coming? she asked them all.

  We should be able to open by May. When are you coming back? texted Kai. Max really misses you.

  Not sure. The mention of Max made her heart clench. She still hadn’t forgiven him for keeping such a huge secret from her. She couldn’t go back until she figured out a good way to talk to him about it. Otherwise, she might blurt something out or lose her temper at him. And in his current condition, she didn’t want to risk causing him any harm.

  On the other hand, what if something happened to him, like a heart attack? Then she might never have a chance to find out what he knew. How is he?

  Charming as ever. You know Max. But he’s a lot quieter since you left. He’s been reading Mom’s journals. He looks sad.

  Just before Christmas, Isabelle had found their mother’s old journals and passed them along to Max. By the time Gracie had her vision about the baby in the bassinet, Max was fully immersed in his wife’s old journals, and she’d never had a chance to look through them.

  Yeah, he does seem sad. It’s funny, I wish he’d just yell at me like he used to, Isabelle texted. Sad Max doesn’t have the same ring to it.

  Ha ha, said Jake. Need me to fill in with the yelling?

  Pass. You suck at yelling.

  As twins, Jake and Izzy generally teased each other harder than any of the other siblings. But they also defended each other fiercely. Any ideas to cheer him up, Gracie?

  Ask him about the bassinet, she wanted to say. Ask him if he remembers when Mom found a baby in the woods. Find out how they managed to hide it from everyone that Mom was never pregnant with me.

  Instead, she texted, Cigar? Anything Cuban and expensive. Let him win at Scrabble. Pistachio ice cream works sometimes. Especially with fudge sauce.

  Max likes pistachio? said Kai. He’s full of surprises.

  Not for her. As the only Rockwell who’d stayed at the lodge after everyone else left, she knew Max better than any of them. Maybe that was what hurt the most. All that time as the only two Rockwells running the lodge, and he’d never shared such an important revelation as the fact that he wasn’t her real father.

  Someday, she’d ask him why. She’d tell him what she remembered, and what she’d discovered since leaving the lodge. She’d tell everyone that she wasn’t actually a Rockwell.

  But not yet. For now, she savored every one of the texts from her brothers and sister as they launched into a goofy discussion about possible ways to cheer up Max.

  Convince him to dye his white beard pink? Buy him a comfort hamster? Modify his cane so it played disco tunes every time it hit the floor?

  Her crazy, funny, loyal family-that-wasn’t-really-her-family. She loved them all so much.

  After the group text ended, she laid her phone on the pillow and curled up next to it.

  She’d never felt so alone in her life.

  Rocky Peak Lodge and everything she knew and loved was so far away. Tonight, she’d stepped even further out of her comfort zone by going to that party. Utter disaster.

  What was she even doing here? She was no closer to her goal than when she’d left Rocky Peak. She had exactly one clue. Mark Castellani. Which meant she had a crush on her only lead in this search.

  Now she had two choices. Leave and figure out some other way to find the truth. Or stay and make her crush disappear.

  She needed an action plan.

  Suddenly revived, she leaped out of bed and dug out the small leather-bound sketchbook that held all the notes and drawings she’d made on this journey.

  Crush the Crush, she wrote at the top of the next blank page.

  Step one. Focus on his flaws.

  Doable, even though it went against her nature. She liked to see the positive in people, not the negative. She’d just have to dig deep, that was all.

  Step two. Avoid him.

  Definitely more difficult, since he was her boss. Not only that, but the whole point of being here was to find out what he knew, and she couldn’t really do that from a distance.

  Step three. Don’t forget he’s taken.

  Fat chance of that. Step three should be the easiest of all.

  Step four. Date someone else.

  Not someone who would give her Jell-O shots and put their hand up her dress. But maybe one of the younger fishermen, or one of the deckhands on the fancy yachts that docked here occasionally.

  She put an asterisk next to that step. It seemed like the most achievable. The next time a member of the male gender who was within ten years of her age flirted with her, she wouldn’t shut it down as she usually did. She’d flirt right back and see what happened.

  As for Mark, she wasn’t about to abandon her mission. But maybe she should be more aggressive in her spying. For instance, his phone. He often left it lying around while he worked on someone’s engine. Why not search through his contacts and see if anything surfaced? And then there was that metal box…

  It was time to shift things up a gear.

  10

  Mark and Sophie had a huge fight after that fateful party. Over tacos, she kept accusing him of guilt-tripping her about abandoning Gracie.

  “You did abandon her.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to make me feel guilty about it!”

  “That makes no sense. Why don’t you just admit you screwed up? Gracie could have gotten seriously hurt.”

  “I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

  “Sophie.” He squirted hot sauce on his tacos. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t even know what we’re fighting about.”

  “I’ll tell you.” She pointed one finger at him, then noticed a bit of cheese on it and licked it off. “I don’t feel emotionally supported right now.”

  “Well, I’m sorry.” When Sophie used the phrase “emotionally supported,” he got a hunted, helpless feeling, as if he were trying to shoot at a blob of Jell-O in the dark. “I’m just saying, Gracie could have gotten hurt. I thought you were going to watch out for her.”

  “Gracie is a grown woman. She’s only a few years younger than we are.”

  True, as Gracie had pointed out herself. He’d tried thinking of her as a young kid because it was safer, but that strategy wasn’t going to work anymore. “Even grown women need to watch their backs at your brother’s parties.”

  “So you’re blaming my brother now? You never did like him, did you?”

  He clutched at his head, in which a drumbeat of a headache had started up. “Can we stick to one fight at a time?”

  “Okay, we’ll stick to your little lost kitten cashier. How much do you even know about Gracie? What is she doing in Ocean Shores? She appears out of nowhere with a knife in her shoe. Who does that? What if she’d stabbed me?”

  “Now you’ve completely lost your mind.”

  “Oh really? She carries a knife around and I’m the crazy one?”

  “Sophie, come on. Why would she stab you?”

  Micropause. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.

  Ah, screw it. “Because you abandoned her?”

  “Okay, that’s it.” She crumpled up the greasy paper lining the basket that held her tacos. “You’d better find somewhere else to stay tonight. I need some time to myself.”

  “Oh, come on, Sophie…”

  “Nope. I’m going to contemplate my options, and so should you.”

  “Contemplate my options” was right behind “emotionally supported” on his list of panic button phrases.

  He slept in the stockroom that night, since it was too late to crash at a frien
d’s or get a hotel room.

  The kerosene hurricane lantern on the Buttercup was still lit, but he ignored it. It would be a huge mistake to go anywhere near that boat, even if just to sleep on the guest berth.

  Gracie confused him too much. Sophie was right about one thing. It was a little strange that Gracie had applied for the cashier position. Why a marina? She knew nothing about boats. Christ, she didn’t even know how to swim. Why this marina? She knew no one in the area. And whenever he asked her about it, she had no real explanation.

  Something was off.

  Gracie got even more confusing over the next few days. Sleeping in the stockroom gave him a crick in his neck, so he was more curt than usual when he made his way into the office in the mornings.

  Weirdly, Gracie didn’t seem to mind his bad mood. “If you want to yell and lose your temper, go ahead. Let it out. Be grumpy.”

  “I’m not going to yell,” he grumbled. He bent to search for a coffee can under the counter. “But I am going to start some coffee.”

  “Aren’t you upset that I didn’t already? I usually do, but today I didn’t.”

  Why was she goading him? “I’m not upset. I just want coffee. Where is it?”

  “Oh.” She actually sounded disappointed that he wasn’t upset. “Here’s a new canister.” She handed him a new can, then hesitated. “Why don’t I make the coffee? You should go shave. Did you wake up late this morning?”

  He rubbed a hand across his jaw. He hated shaving in the marina restroom. Maybe he should get used to a little scruff. Go for the pirate look. “I think I’ll grow it out for a few days.”

  “What?” Her dismay confused him. Why would she care one way or another? “You’re going to grow a beard? Are you sure you want to do that?”

  He frowned at her as she used a can opener on the coffee can. She was wearing her usual cutoff shorts and baby-doll hippie top, with her white-blond hair in two pigtails, like a teenager. But now that he’d seen her in that gold dress, he knew better. She was all woman, despite her whimsical wardrobe. “Do you have a problem with me growing a beard?”