“You sound like you have a pretty good family, Olivia,” Anthony said. He pulled another nail out of its home and placed it tenderly on the pile of other rusted nails.
“They’re not bad,” Olivia said teasingly. “What about your family? Are they far?”
“Not so far,” Anthony said. “I grew up in Pennsylvania. I made a pit-stop in a few other places on the way through my life and now, I’m here.”
“So mysterious,” Olivia said with a laugh.
“Naw. Just boring. One year after another after another, for forty-five years. That’s been it, really.”
“I have to say that I don’t believe that for a second,” Olivia said.
“Believe what you want,” Anthony said. “It’s a free country.”
Playfully, Olivia stuck out her tongue at him, and he chuckled in return. Olivia had no idea what had come over her. Was this flirting? She had a hunch her friends would say it was.
After several hours of work, Maxine ushered them in for big bowls of clam chowder and slices of freshly baked bread, which she’d picked up from the Sunrise Cove Inn’s bistro, where Christine Sheridan was the baker-in-chief. Of course, they would have supported the Frosted Delights Bakery, but they didn’t make bread — just sweets.
“Wow. This is delicious,” Xavier said as he slid another piece of bread through the clam chowder. “Maxine, it’s really delicious.”
Maxine blushed. “It’s no big deal. I can give you the recipe and give you some to take home later, Xavier.”
“That would be great,” Xavier affirmed.
Chelsea glanced toward Xavier and smiled softly. “You thinking of getting into cooking, Xavier?”
Xavier shrugged. “Sure, why not. I don’t think it’s too late.”
“Never too late to do anything,” Jared chimed in. “There’s no time limit in this life.”
Suddenly, a phone blared. Chelsea grabbed her cell, placed her bowl on the counter, and walked out toward the door that led to the porch. Just before the door slammed shut behind her, everyone heard her say, “Hey Dad! What’s up?”
Olivia’s heart sank. She felt Anthony’s eyes bore through her, even as she returned hers to the bowl of clam chowder. Chelsea didn’t hear from Tyler often, but he did seem to have a talent for calling at the worst possible times.
And just then, on-cue, everyone inside the old house listened as Chelsea burst into tears so loud that they seemed to shake the whole house.
Chapter Nine
Blind with fear, Olivia rushed toward the door and burst out onto the porch. Over the previous half-hour or so, the weather had shifted, and dark clouds billowed across the horizon over the Nantucket Sound. Chelsea stood about five feet away from the door. Her face was strained as tears rolled down her cheeks. Olivia was reminded of years ago when Chelsea had fallen off her bike and crumbled across the pavement. She’d looked at Olivia and Tyler with the same eyes that were filled with fear, sadness and pain.
But now, at nineteen, she lifted a finger toward her mother, as though to say: Don’t talk to me. I’m on the phone.
Olivia cupped her hands beneath her chin and waited in stunned silence. When Chelsea spoke, she made her voice as bright as she possibly could.
“Of course they’re happy tears, Dad! I’m so thrilled for you,” she tried.
Obviously, anybody who knew Chelsea at all could sense the lie behind her words. Since Tyler had been gone over six years, there was no telling whether or not he “got” his daughter anymore. She’d been daddy’s little girl, but that had been ten years ago, maybe more. Tyler had moved on. Chelsea, of course, hadn’t. Not really.
“When did you find out?” Chelsea asked, kicking her foot on the wooden board she stood on. Seconds later, she actually hiccupped. It was like she’d lost all control of her body.
Olivia placed her hands over her heart. Through the window, she made eye contact with Anthony, who looked perplexed and worried. She sensed that Chelsea was embarrassed at making such a “scene” in front of her family and these other strangers.
“That sounds good, Dad,” Chelsea offered. “Yeah. I can’t wait to hear more. Yep. Talk to you later. Love you, too. Bye.”
Slowly, Chelsea removed the phone from her ear. She blinked her large blue eyes toward her mother, as her chin quivered with sadness. Olivia wanted to rush toward her and wrap her in a hug and make the pain wash away. She knew better than to make such sudden movements, though.
“What’s going on, honey?” Olivia asked softly.
More tears rolled down her cheeks as Chelsea finally looked at her mother. Her face was marred with so much despair when she murmured, “She’s pregnant.”
Olivia’s heart stopped beating for the slightest moment.
“Casey?” she asked.
Chelsea furrowed her brow. “Who else would it be?”
Tyler had been dating Casey for nearly four years, over in Boston. They’d known each other much longer, and Olivia had long-ago considered the possibility that Casey had been the core reason her marriage had fallen apart. The woman was only twenty-eight, which meant that Tyler was a full twelve years older than she was. Obviously, she was at “that age” when women wanted children. Obviously, she wanted to have the whole story: the romance, the house, the babies—all of it. Tyler had already done it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again with an updated model.
In short, Olivia felt she should have seen this coming but just hadn’t.
“Say something!” Chelsea cried suddenly.
Olivia’s shoulders fell forward. She stuttered as she searched for some kind of response. Finally, she offered just, “What am I supposed to say, Chelsea. That’s good news, for them, I guess?”
Because in actuality, this news ripped her in two, also — but she wanted to put on a brave face for her daughter.
“That’s so typical,” Chelsea blared, her eyes narrowed as she stared at her mother. She yanked herself around and walked down the side of the porch, where Olivia and Anthony had spent the majority of the late-morning and afternoon working.
Suddenly, Chelsea disappeared around the side of the house. Olivia cried suddenly, “Chelsea! Hey! Stop!” But before she could warn her, Chelsea screeched and wailed, and there was the horrible sound of her falling, along with the cracking of rotting wood.
Olivia raced toward her daughter. She forgot to breathe. As she turned the corner, she found Chelsea stretched out, both her legs in a hole that she and Anthony had created after drawing up the old floorboards. Chelsea had managed to grip the banister beside her just in time so that she hadn’t fallen fully to the ground below, which was located a full ten feet beneath her.
Chelsea’s face was bright red and panicked. She seemed too frightened to cry.
“Chelsea!” Olivia cried again. She leaped over to the other side of her daughter and gripped her left arm.
At this, Chelsea yelled, “Mom! That hurts!” in a way that told Olivia that, whatever she did, she would make an irate and in-pain Chelsea all the more angrier.
“I don’t know what you want me to do!” Olivia said. Frustration stirred around and around her gut.
Anthony, Xavier, and Jared burst out onto the porch to find them. Olivia remained hunched behind her daughter. Her eyes scanned down toward Chelsea’s legs, where it seemed one of them had caught onto the side of a piece of wood in her fall. The bone hung slightly crooked.
“I think it’s broken,” Chelsea whispered. She shuddered with panic.
Olivia turned toward Anthony. Somehow, he was her light in the darkness. “Let’s take her to the hospital.”
“Don’t touch me, Mom. It hurts. It hurts —”
Olivia knew her daughter was irrational. Heck, she might have been irrational, with her body in a hole and her leg busted, as well. Olivia reached for a strand of hair that had curled over Chelsea’s cheek, but Chelsea turned her face away and burst into tears.
“I don’t know how to move you into a better position if you w
on’t let me touch you,” Olivia finally sputtered. She hated how much venom remained in her voice.
“Just get away from me,” Chelsea argued. Her voice was now an angry moan. It was clear that she was in a great deal of pain. “Please, just get away.”
Olivia backed away. She again turned her eyes toward Anthony and whispered, “It all happened so fast.”
Suddenly, Xavier stepped forward. With sudden power and certainty, he gripped Chelsea beneath her armpits and lifted her out onto the remaining boards of the porch. This, too, happened so quickly that Chelsea didn’t have time to protest. Xavier then squatted beside her and asked, “You okay?”
Chelsea gave him the slightest smile despite the pain. “I think my leg’s broken.” She hiccupped again. “I feel so stupid.”
“Don’t,” Xavier told her. “It was an accident.” He then turned back toward Olivia and said, “We’ll move her to a car when she’s ready, but for now, I think we need some water.” He then turned back toward Chelsea and said, “You thirsty?”
“That would be great,” Chelsea said. She shivered against him and dropped her head along his shoulder.
Why was it so easy for Chelsea to trust this stranger and not her own mother?
Olivia hurried toward the kitchen to pour water into a cup to bring out to her daughter. In the meantime, Anthony said he would drive his truck around to the side of the house so that he and Xavier could easily carry Chelsea over and splay her in the back seat. As the water poured into the glass, Anthony’s hand gripped Olivia’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he said.
Olivia glanced toward him and found that he appeared blurry. She was crying, and she hadn’t even noticed it.
“It was an accident,” he told her.
“I know,” Olivia said, although she didn’t wholly believe it. Guilt had fallen heavy on her shoulders.
“These things happen. I should have put up some caution tape or something. I just didn’t think that anyone would go out there,” Anthony continued.
Olivia snapped off the water faucet and blinked until her tears washed away. “I don’t know what to say. I only know that she hates me. Right now, she really, really hates me.”
When Olivia arrived back outdoors, she heard only Xavier’s voice.
“You know, I broke my leg when I was about eleven or twelve. I thought I could drive my dad’s motorbike by myself because I’d seen him do it so many times, and I wanted to show it off to my sister. There I went down the driveway, and then there I collapsed at the bottom of it. You should have seen it. Not a clean break, either. I had to have surgery.”
Chelsea laughed and then shrieked. “Ugh! Don’t talk about surgery.”
“I don’t think you’ve got that on your hands, Chels. Just a cast and some crutches. You’ll have all the guys in Edgartown after you to carry your stuff,” Xavier teased, flashing her a wide grin.
“Ha. As if,” Chelsea said.
Olivia turned the corner to appear before them again. A bit of life had returned to Chelsea’s face, despite the pain. Olivia lifted the glass of water and delivered a meek smile. “Hey there. I have this water for you, and Anthony is about to wheel the truck around. Whenever you’re ready to be carried over...”
Chelsea glanced back up toward Xavier, who gave her a firm nod.
“You got this, Chelsea,” Xavier said. “It’s just a little break. And think of it this way. You’re getting out of all this work, aren’t you? I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
Olivia watched, totally helpless, as Xavier and Anthony carried her daughter and her broken leg toward the truck and laid her delicately in the back. Xavier leaped into the back as well, and Olivia and Anthony sat upfront. As they wheeled around the mansion toward the driveway, they stopped to have a quick word with Jared and Maxine, who’d begun to load up their own car to return home.
“Take care of yourself, Chels!” Jared said. “And Olivia, let us know if we can do anything. More clam chowder or whatever.” His eyes were filled with sympathy.
“Don’t worry about us,” Olivia said. She gripped her brother’s hand and then added, “Thanks for your help today. It was cut short, but we’ll be back at it next weekend. If you’re ready for it.”
“Just call me when you need me,” Jared said. “Kind of my job as your big brother.”
Olivia, Xavier, and Anthony waited in the emergency waiting room while the doctors set Chelsea’s leg. Twice, Olivia told Xavier and Anthony they could head home, but both times, they insisted on staying. Olivia shook throughout until finally, Anthony got up and bought her a Snickers bar and a cup of coffee and said, “Eat. The shock is getting to you.” Olivia did as she was told.
When Chelsea was finally released, Anthony drove them both home and assured her that they would bring her car back to the house that evening. Anthony carried Chelsea into the house; Xavier carried her crutches in after them. With ease, they set Chelsea up in her bedroom and then said their goodbyes.
But when Xavier and Anthony turned back down the driveway, and Olivia appeared in Chelsea’s room to attempt to speak with her again, Chelsea had already turned away. It was clear that she wanted nothing to do with her mother, not today.
Olivia could feel it: the blame Chelsea put on her for all of it. For the divorce. For Tyler’s leaving. And now, for Tyler building this whole new life, which had nothing at all to do with Chelsea.
Somehow, it was proof that Chelsea hadn’t been enough for Tyler.
And for the first time ever, Olivia hated Tyler. She hated him for putting Chelsea, the love of her life, through all this pain. She hated him because Edgartown had never been enough for him. But mostly, she hated herself for ever loving him. How stupid she’d been.
Chapter Ten
The following night, Olivia could hear Chelsea up around midnight. She hadn’t fully mastered the crutches, and she clacked around the kitchen and down the hallway, clearly angry and annoyed at her situation and unwilling to quiet down to allow her mother to sleep. That morning, she’d broken the news to the diner that she’d broken her leg and would have to miss six weeks of work, which had totally soured the day. When she’d hung up, Chelsea had grumbled, “I guess I won’t be saving up any money after all.”
When she’d said that, Olivia had wanted to ask just what Chelsea was saving up for, anyway? Chelsea had never mentioned anything surrounding future plans. Throughout her senior year, Olivia had taken her to several colleges for tours, given her countless brochures, and asked her, over and over again, what she might want to do with her life. Each time, Chelsea — who’d still grappled with teenage depression and sadness over her father’s departure — had said she didn’t know and that she hadn’t wanted to just “choose” something without giving it more thought. Now, nearly an entire year had passed since she’d received her diploma, and she was nowhere nearer to understanding what was next.
Obviously, this made Olivia panicked. She felt she’d failed her daughter in about a million ways, but the worst was that her daughter didn’t seem any better at tackling “this thing called life” than Olivia had been. If she was honest, she still wasn’t so good at it, either, despite having a good twenty-one years on her daughter.
When Olivia awoke Monday morning, she found Chelsea still on the sofa, with the television blaring an old episode of a home improvement show. The view was depressing, to say the least, with Chelsea all wrapped up in pillows and blankets and her mouth slightly open with her leg all propped up on the coffee table. Olivia wished there was something she could do about all of this.
But all she could do was head off to school.
After the final period, Xavier tried his best to slip out of the classroom without making eye contact with Olivia. But Olivia called his name and forced him back around.
“Xavier. I just wanted to thank you for all your help Saturday,” she said.
Xavier gave a traditional teenage shrug, one that told her he cared a lot more than he was letting on. “Sure.
No problem.” He paused for a second and then asked, “Is she feeling better?”
“She seems to be. Although she’s disappointed about it all, of course,” Olivia said.
“I told her she’s lucky. She can just watch movies and read for six weeks,” Xavier said. “Like a vacation.”
“And it’s the perfect time for it,” Olivia said. “At least it’s not summer.”
Xavier slipped his fingers through his hair and then said, “Right. Well. Let me know if you need any more help with the old mansion. I hate to admit it, but it was pretty fun to help restore it. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
That afternoon, Olivia returned home, where she removed a stack of letters from the porch mailbox. When she entered the house, she found Chelsea in a similar state, with her phone propped up on her knees as she texted.
“Hey, honey,” Olivia said as she pressed the door closed against the winter winds. “How was your day?”
Chelsea gestured out on either side of herself and said, “It was a lot like this, I guess.” She then cleared her throat and said, “Dad’s giving me more details about the baby.”
A million thoughts of what to say rushed to Olivia’s mind.
And how do you feel about that?
Why does he think he can just jump into your life with all this new information?
Isn’t he a terrible father?
But instead, she said, “And what’s he saying?”
Chelsea shrugged. “I don’t know. He sent me this photo of a sonogram. A weird little alien baby. Don’t tell me I looked like that.” She lifted the phone to allow Olivia to see, but Olivia turned her head away as though she hadn’t noticed. At this, Chelsea grumbled, “Right. It’s probably weird for you. Dad’s teenage bride.”
“Chelsea, come on,” Olivia said with a heavy sigh. “She’s not a teenager.”
“She’s closer to me in age than you,” Chelsea remarked in a disgusted tone.
289 Captain's Walk Page 7
