One Perfect Summer

by Brenda Novak

  “So what did she say?” Lorelei pressed.

  “That my father must’ve been unfaithful.”

  Serenity scowled. “But that means my mother would have to have known your father. Lorelei’s, too.”

  “Can we say with any certainty that they didn’t know each other?” Reagan asked. “Maybe they did, and the mystery can be solved that easily.”

  A look of skepticism appeared on Serenity’s face. “Did your father ever live in California or Florida?”

  “No, but my mother said he traveled sometimes.”

  “By himself?”

  “I guess. For business. To meet investors for real estate.”

  “Then I suppose it’s possible,” Serenity allowed. “But was he in California long enough to get to know my mother? And in what capacity could they have met? We can’t say what Lorelei’s mother did for a living, but my mother’s always been an organic gardener. Organic gardeners don’t usually have any reason to meet out-of-town commercial real estate agents.”

  “They could’ve met in a restaurant, a bar, a grocery store,” Reagan suggested. “Think of all the random strangers you pass each day.”

  “Just because I pass them doesn’t mean I meet them—or go home with them,” Serenity said, stubbornly resisting the idea that her mother had cheated.

  Lorelei had a huge stake in this conversation. What they found might provide answers to the questions that had plagued her since she could remember. And yet she was slightly distracted by seeing Finn help Lucy get some salad and a piece of garlic bread on her plate. It was thoughtful of him to keep her occupied.

  “I can’t imagine my mother cheating,” Serenity continued, “not when she was happy in her marriage and in love with her husband.”

  “Could it be that your parents weren’t always as in love as they are now?” Lorelei asked.

  “Every marriage has its rough patches,” Serenity admitted. “Still, where was my father when my mother and your father were potentially together?”

  Reagan shrugged. “At work?”

  “I’m not buying it. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t see my mother getting pregnant like that and never telling anyone.”

  “There are people who’d argue that keeping the pregnancy a secret would be the best way to handle it,” Reagan pointed out. “Look at what a happy childhood you had. Who knows what would’ve happened if she’d told. It’s possible your parents would’ve split up.”

  “Without DNA testing, Serenity’s mother might’ve been able to take that secret to her grave,” Finn said in agreement. “She had no way of knowing technology would eventually out her. Had she known, she might’ve made a different choice.”

  “Finn’s right,” Reagan said. “It was a whole other world back then. A lot of women might’ve made the same decision. But I’m not convinced my father slept with both your mothers. My own mother was being evasive. She wanted me to assume my father cheated so I’d believe that was the end of the story and drop it.”

  “You got the impression she was hiding something?” Serenity asked.

  “With her it’s hard to tell. But yes. She didn’t want to discuss it.”

  “I hate to play devil’s advocate again, but it wouldn’t be fun to hear that your husband might’ve cheated on you with two women—who each had a child by him,” Finn said. “Maybe it’s easier for her not to even consider it—to just continue living her life as she’s been doing for years, believing he was true to her and you were his only child.”

  Reagan’s expression didn’t clear. “But if she didn’t know I have two half sisters until I told her, she would’ve shown more surprise, more interest and curiosity, wouldn’t she? Something beyond, ‘I’ve got to go. We’ll talk about it later.’”

  “You’ve mentioned how busy she is,” Lorelei said. “Is it possible she really did have to go?”

  “Yes, but it was still a brush-off.”

  Serenity finally poured the tea. “What was your father’s name again?”

  “Stuart Sands.”

  “Stuart,” she repeated. “I’m going to text my mother and tell her that I ran into someone here in Tahoe who claims to have known her and give her that name.”

  Reagan’s hand stalled as she was bringing her glass to her lips. “What if she says he’s dead?”

  “Then that’ll prove they knew each other,” Serenity replied.

  After taking a long drink, Reagan put her iced tea back on the table and reached for the pasta. “Yes, it would—and the simplest explanation is often the right one.”

  * * *

  serenity

  Would Sawyer even pick up?

  Although he’d called her recently, the conversation hadn’t gone well. Maybe he was finished with her after making the effort to be friendly and not getting a very warm response. Maybe he’d only rung her in the first place as a final check-in, to make sure she was doing okay after the trial so he could feel that his duty to stand for truth and protect the innocent was done.

  She couldn’t imagine any other reason he’d be interested in talking to the person who’d once been married to his stepbrother and had driven such a wedge between him and the family who’d taken him in and raised him. Even if that wedge had been the result of Sean’s actions and wasn’t her fault—she knew they both understood that—she was afraid she represented the entire negative experience for him.

  She had herself so convinced that Sawyer was frowning when he saw her name pop up on his phone that she almost didn’t allow the call to go through.

  He answered before she could stop it. “Hello?”

  She froze.

  “Serenity?”

  If she disconnected now, she could pass it off as a pocket dial. She had Nina waiting for those pictures that might be at the house in Berkeley, but she could hire someone to lift the boxes down for her and deliver them to Nina’s house herself.

  There were ways around getting Sawyer involved; she knew, in her heart, that Nina was just the excuse she was using to call him. This wasn’t about Sean’s pictures as much as the regret she felt for being so remote with Sawyer when he’d reached out to her the last time.

  “Hi.” Although she’d hesitated, she hoped it wasn’t long enough to reveal her anxiety. She was pacing in her bedroom with the door shut even though Reagan, Lorelei and Finn were gone. When they’d mentioned taking Lucy on a walk after lunch, she’d begged off, saying she had to take care of some emails. She’d wanted privacy to make this call, and she figured she’d have a better chance of enlisting Sawyer to help her this weekend if she gave him some notice.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  His voice was so deep. Everything about him was different from Sean. Sawyer was tough, mentally and physically. He could be a poster boy for the marines—he’d been a marine before starting his own real estate appraisal business, so that made sense—while Sean had been more talkative and social, and was always looking for the next “fun” thing to plan or do or buy. Serenity had been drawn to his optimistic, happy-go-lucky personality. He loved wine, food, traveling, dinner parties, movies and television.

  But then...who wouldn’t love those things? Maybe it was just that Sean had always had the luxury of indulging himself. He could take a relaxed approach to life because he came from a place of privilege, having such a devoted family to act as a safety net if anything went wrong.

  Sawyer, on the other hand, had sustained considerable loss at a young age, and he’d largely had to fend for himself ever since. Life for him had been a struggle, and he took it more seriously.

  Now that she’d suffered a serious setback, her first major life blow, she understood Sawyer and his caution far better—and she was sort of embarrassed. She’d suddenly realized that the difference between her and Sean, and Sawyer on the other side, was that Sawyer had grown up a lot soon
er than they had.

  She wondered if he’d recognized her immaturity, if that was part of the reason they’d always been at odds with each other.

  “I’m fine,” she replied.

  She thought of all the things she wanted to say to him but couldn’t decide where to start. Should she tell him how grateful she was for his support? If he hadn’t felt the need to protect her, he probably would’ve been able to avoid creating such a terrible rift with his family. At the very least, his actions wouldn’t have been such a focal point during the trial. And she’d never thanked him, never even broached the subject. She’d simply ignored his sacrifice while she tried to cope with all the other emotions that were making her miserable.

  She opened her mouth to acknowledge what he’d done but changed her mind. She didn’t want to put him on the spot, make him uncomfortable.

  He broke the strained silence. “What’s up?”

  She had to say something. “I was... Please don’t feel any pressure to say yes, but...”

  “But...” he prompted when she didn’t finish.

  “Never mind. I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. I’m sorry I bothered you,” she said and disconnected.

  “Great. That was just great,” she muttered to herself. “Congratulations, Serenity. You’re an idiot.” What made her think Sawyer would want to gather up the last of his stepbrother’s items and deliver them to a stepmother who now hated him?

  She obviously hadn’t thought that through carefully enough—

  Her phone vibrated in her hand; he was calling back.

  Damn it. She had to answer. He knew she was right there, next to her phone—she’d just called him. “Hello?”

  “Care to tell me what’s going on?” he said.

  She stopped moving and spoke while staring at her feet. “Your stepmother texted me last night.”

  “I’m sure you were happy to hear from her.”

  The sarcasm was unmistakable. “Yeah, not so much. She claims I have some of Sean’s childhood pictures. But if I do, they’re on the top shelf in the basement, where I can’t reach them. Even if I could, I don’t like going down there. There’re too many rats and spiders—”

  “You want me to come get them for you,” he guessed before she could finish.

  “If you would.”

  “No problem. What time?”

  She drew a deep, steadying breath. “I’m in Tahoe now. But I was planning to head down the mountain on Saturday morning. So any time on Saturday. If you’re free. But don’t feel obligated,” she quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve got a million things you’d rather do with your weekend than hang out with your ex-sister-in-law.”

  “I’ll be available around four.”

  “That would be perfect. It’ll be a lot better if you’re there with me.” She bit her knuckles as soon as those words came out of her mouth. What had she just said? It sounded as if she missed him, felt safer when he was around. But she couldn’t take it back or clarify without drawing even more attention to her faux pas.

  “Okay,” he said as if she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. “I’ll call you when I’m heading over.”

  “Thank you.”

  “See you on Saturday,” he said and then he was gone.

  Serenity groaned as she fell back on her bed. It’d be a lot better if you’re there with me?

  She tried to tell herself she didn’t know where that had come from. But she had to acknowledge that while she’d been navigating the sharp rocks and reefs of Sean’s lies, his family’s anger at her defection, his lawyers’ pressure to change her testimony, the loss of her marriage and, maybe, the hope of ever having a family—not to mention the mounting pressure of being unable to write during the whole ordeal—it was Sawyer showing up at the courthouse each and every day that had been the lighthouse guiding her safely through.

  18

  lorelei

  “DID YOU NOTICE your husband getting a bit too chummy with your best friend before you learned the truth?”

  Reagan had taken Lucy down to the water, which left Finn and Lorelei sitting farther up the beach. When they’d set out from the cabin, they hadn’t intended to walk clear to Sand Harbor. Lorelei would never have attempted such a distance on her own, not without a stroller. Lucy could easily tire on the way back, which would mean carrying her home.

  But with Finn letting Lucy ride on his shoulders, Lorelei didn’t have to be so practical. When they got involved in conversation and continued on to the lake, Lorelei hadn’t protested or asked to turn back. She was enjoying herself too much.

  “Not really,” she replied. “Francine and I were so close that she spent a lot of time with Mark, too. She’d hug us both when she arrived or left. Would remember to bake him a cake for his birthday. Would bring over cookies or meals she knew he’d like. Would talk to him about movies or TV shows they both enjoyed. But she did plenty of nice things for me, too, and everyone else she loved. I didn’t get the impression she was flirting with him so much as being thoughtful—a good friend to both of us.”

  She could feel Finn’s eyes on her but didn’t dare meet his gaze. Every time she looked at him, she felt a flutter in her stomach—an awareness she hadn’t experienced in ages, which was crazy. She was avoiding the hard problems in her life by admiring him. Or maybe she was looking for some reassurance that she was desirable in spite of how unattractive Mark had made her feel.

  “When do you think it switched to something more?” he asked.

  Lorelei stared out over the water. The beach wasn’t crowded; it was still too chilly for sunbathing. And it was a Monday. Apparently, many of Tahoe’s visitors came only for the weekend now that it was no longer ski season. But with the vivid blue of the lake, the Brunswick green of the tall stands of pine trees that looked as though they’d marched boldly up to the water, and the white-capped mountains rising all around them, it was a beautiful place to be. Lorelei felt as if she was sitting in the middle of a painting, especially with someone as handsome as Finn lounging beside her. Maybe one day Finn would paint this place...

  “That’s the thing,” she replied. “I don’t know. They joked around and teased each other all the time, but I got the impression it was more like a sister horsing around with a brother-in-law.”

  He grimaced. “That makes it even worse.”

  “It does. Obviously, it changed somewhere along the line. I’m not sure exactly when that was or why I didn’t notice, but I’ll lose my best friend as well as my husband—if I go that way.”

  Sitting up, he crossed his legs in front of him. “Is that the direction you’re leaning?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t decide. It’s so hard to give up on a marriage when you’ve devoted everything you have to it. Especially when there’s a child involved. But how will I ever trust Mark again?” She didn’t mention that she believed Mark was taking steps to protect his income should she leave him, because that hurt almost as much as the affair. It revealed a stingy, ungenerous side of her husband, one that was, in the end, ruthlessly practical as well as blatantly unfair. It certainly did little to convince her that he truly cared about her or her well-being.

  “Considering the way you grew up, I can understand how important trust is to you.”

  Finally, she looked at him directly. “Don’t you think he should’ve understood that, too?”

  Although he seemed about to agree with her, he deferred at the last second. “Marriages are complicated, Lorelei. I don’t want to steer you wrong.” He picked up a rock and threw it as far as he could into the water. “Do you have a picture of Mark? And Francine? We’ve talked so much about them, but I don’t even know what they look like.”

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and thumbed through her photos until she came up with a picture of her husband. Finn glanced at it and nodded. Then she found one of Francine
at the baby shower she’d thrown when Lorelei was pregnant with Lucy.

  “She’s pretty, isn’t she,” she said as she showed it to him.

  She watched as he studied her ex-best friend’s image, imagined him taking in the long blond hair, big blue eyes, petite but curvy figure and the dimples that flashed whenever she smiled.

  “No prettier than you,” he responded and handed her phone back as Lucy came running up the beach.

  “Momma, come wade with me!”

  “Isn’t the water too cold?” Lorelei asked.

  “It’s freezing!” Reagan called from the water’s edge.

  That didn’t deter Lucy. She tugged on Lorelei’s hand. “It’s not too cold,” she insisted.

  Lorelei laughed. “Okay, okay. Let me get my shoes off.”

  Finn kicked his flip-flops to the side, got up and pulled her to her feet.

  “Thanks,” she said, but he caught her by the elbow to stop her before she could follow her daughter down to the water.

  “If I’m reading between the lines of our conversation correctly, you’re thinking there must be something wrong with you. That you’re not attractive enough, or interesting enough, or adventurous enough—or something—or your husband wouldn’t have gone elsewhere for what you were already providing.”

  What he said was so accurate, and her self-doubt so severe, that tears sprang to her eyes.

  “But don’t you believe it,” he added and gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze before striding down the beach.

  * * *

  serenity

  The bedroom off the loft that contained the library smelled of old leather, and dust motes floated in the swordlike shafts of sunlight stabbing through the blinds. This place wasn’t spooky like the basement in her house in Berkeley. There were no cobwebs or spiders. But it was packed so tightly with storage that it wasn’t easy to navigate. There were boxes stacked to the ceiling, some old furniture and an antique lamp shoved into one corner, a standing jewelry box her father had once given her mother but was now out of fashion, extra bedding, a pile of sheet music from when the twins were taking piano lessons and other odds and ends.