One Perfect Summer

by Brenda Novak

  “It’s not a death sentence, it’s a life sentence.”

  Serenity lowered her voice. “Have you told Lorelei you’re pregnant?”

  “No. I don’t want to. I don’t want to tell my mother, either.”

  “You can wait to tell your mother until you get back to New York, but you need to tell Lorelei much sooner. If she feels you kept it from her—and yet you told me—she’ll be hurt. Why not be up front with her? You don’t think she’ll decide you’re not worthy of her love, do you?”

  “No. It’s more that I don’t want to make her sympathetic to Francine just because she’s sympathetic to me and my situation.”

  “Your situation isn’t exactly the same. You weren’t best friends with Drew’s wife.”

  “I’m still the other woman, and I’m pregnant. That’s going to be hard for Lorelei to swallow. And if she forgives me for what I did—which I feel she will since it doesn’t affect her directly—she’ll feel she has to do the same for Mark and Francine.”

  “Maybe she should forgive them. Maybe that’s what’s best for Lucy.”

  A bird trilling in the closest tree drew Reagan’s attention. It was going to be hard to leave this place when the time came... “If I felt Mark and Francine were truly penitent, I’d agree with you. But you heard what Mark did yesterday, didn’t you? He took her name off their joint bank account, cut her off completely.”

  “He did? Then she was right. She said he’d do it eventually.”

  “After living with him for so long, she knew what he’d do. But he’s the one who screwed up their marriage in the first place.”

  “I bet he’s afraid she’s moving on and is trying to limit the damage to himself.”

  “See what I mean? That’s looking out for number one—not being sorry you hurt someone else. Is he with Francine now?”

  “Claims he isn’t.”

  Reagan started to go back to commenting on Serenity’s Facebook page—she’d posted a photo of Serenity writing in Tahoe that was going over well—but since Serenity had stopped working, she decided to ask about Vance. “Any word from your uncle?”

  “None.”

  “Is he out of the country or what? What could take him so long to get back to you?”

  “I’m beginning to think he has good reason for not calling me. Maybe he knows what I want to talk about.”

  “How could he?”

  Serenity took a sip of the coffee at her elbow. “He can’t know, but he might wonder, might worry, which makes him nervous to talk to me.”

  “I’ve been thinking... If he won’t even call you back, it won’t do you any good to go to Vegas. What if we tried a different approach?”

  “To get his DNA?”

  “No, this wouldn’t give us his DNA, but it might tell us if you should pursue a trip to Vegas.”

  Serenity pushed her computer away and leaned back in her chair. “What are you suggesting?”

  “We use my phone to call him. He’s never heard my voice, doesn’t know me from Adam. Or Eve.” She grinned briefly. “I impersonate my mother, tell him that my daughter’s found a sister in Florida and that this sister, who was discovered wandering in the streets as a toddler, must be his, too. See how he reacts. If he doesn’t know my mother, says I couldn’t possibly be his—and neither could this child from Florida—we know we’re chasing the wrong guy and move on.”

  Serenity frowned as she considered the suggestion. “But that might give away what I’ve been calling about. It’s not as if I usually contact him.”

  “Even if it does, a call from a different number, a number he doesn’t recognize, might get him to pick up the phone. Maybe if we can just reach him we’ll end up with more to go on. We have to take some chances, or we might never figure this out.”

  “What if he’s remained in contact with your mother? What if he recognizes that it’s not her voice?”

  “He hasn’t. My mother might’ve made the mistake of getting involved with him when she was young, but if he didn’t step up, she would’ve washed her hands of him. She doesn’t mess around. That’s why she’s been single ever since. She can’t put up with anyone.”

  “I suppose it’s worth a try,” Serenity said. “If he suspects, he may say something to my mom—that I’ve been calling and he got this other weird call—but he wouldn’t involve my dad, because that might give away their secret. It should be safe.”

  “I doubt he’d tell your mother he heard from another woman he also impregnated back in the day. That would only make her feel worse toward him—and she might try to stop your father from ever helping him again.”

  “That’s true, I guess.”

  “Then should I do it?”

  “What about Lorelei? I told her about Vance. Shouldn’t she have a say in how we proceed?”

  “Why would she care if we try to get information this way? She has nothing to lose.”

  “I just think she should be here.”

  “She’s always with Finn these days. If we wait until she gets home, it’ll be too late in New York, where I’m supposedly calling from.”

  “True.”

  “So?”

  Serenity got out of her seat and began to walk around the deck. Obviously deep in thought, she went over to the railing and gazed toward the lake. “Yeah, do it,” she said when she turned around.

  * * *

  lorelei

  Mark was calling her again, but she ignored the ring. His calls had gotten ugly—accusing, nasty, punishing.

  Although Lorelei worried about what taking Lucy’s father away might do to their daughter, wouldn’t it be worse to grow up in a house where Mommy and Daddy were constantly bickering? Slamming doors? Not speaking?

  And now she had Finn to consider. She hadn’t slept with him, but she wanted to. He’d backed off after that night he’d walked her home. She was pretty sure he was trying to give her time, that he knew it was too soon. But he kissed her now and then—when Lucy wasn’t watching—and she thought about sex more and more.

  That certainly told her she was starting to have feelings for him and wanted to be with him even if it meant putting up with the dour Davis, who rarely spoke—and acted as though she didn’t exist. He even managed to ignore Lucy, something Lorelei would previously have considered impossible. Whenever he was sitting on the couch, watching TV—which was about all he did—Lucy thought he was available to play. He wasn’t working or anything else that looked important, so that was generally when she approached him. But if she asked him to color or do anything else, he scowled at her so darkly she quickly moved away.

  If it wasn’t for Finn, Lorelei might’ve tried to find a new job. Davis was that sullen. It wasn’t easy to be around someone who was desperately unhappy. But because of Finn, she kept hanging on—and kept explaining to Lucy that Davis was going through a hard time and was “mean” because he was struggling to heal from the loss of his arm.

  “Is that Mark?”

  She looked up to see Finn standing in the doorway. She hadn’t realized he’d entered the kitchen, where she was preparing lunch. He’d gone down to paint a little earlier than usual. Normally when he started work, he didn’t emerge for several hours. She’d expected to bring him a sandwich. “Yeah.”

  She hit Ignore yet again and slid her phone into her pocket.

  “Have you told him you have a job?”

  “I told him I’m working for a neighbor, yes.”

  “Good. Then he knows you don’t need his money.”

  “For now. Things will change after the summer’s over, of course, but I refuse to think beyond August. Not when it’s still June.”

  He came up behind her. Lucy was playing on the floor in the living room and couldn’t see them above the couch as Finn slid his hands around her waist. “Does he know about me?” he murmured in her ear.

 
She felt a wave of desire. Her sexuality had been as crushed as her heart but, thanks to Finn, it seemed to be reviving. She was more comfortable now with letting him touch her—she wanted him to touch her. “Lucy mentioned you to him.”

  “So he knows I’m the neighbor you work for?”

  “I didn’t specify that, but he guessed, and it’s driving him mad.”

  He pressed his lips to her neck as her phone went off for the fourth time in a row. She had no doubt it was her husband. She wasn’t even going to check, but Finn pulled her phone from her pocket.

  “He won’t leave you alone,” he said when he saw all the missed calls. “This is getting obsessive.”

  “It’s because I won’t answer. We’ve been doing nothing but fighting.”

  “No wonder. First he gets your best friend pregnant, then he cuts you off financially.”

  She felt slightly defensive of Mark, which was strange, since she was angrier with him than anyone else had reason to be. “He’s trying to force me to come home. That’s all. In his mind, if I run out of money, I’ll have no choice.”

  “Shouldn’t he care more about whether you want to be with him? Whether he deserves a woman like you?”

  “He thinks he can convince me how good things were when we were together if I’ll just come home, that everything will go back to the way it was.”

  “Were things that good?”

  “Before the affair.” Or maybe she didn’t know any differently. She hadn’t met anyone like Finn, hadn’t known she had sisters. Her perception of everything was changing.

  He looked uncertain. “Do you want to get back together with him?”

  She shook her head. “It’s hard to even think about that—when there’s you.”

  His gaze lowered to her lips, but he didn’t kiss her. Lucy’s voice, coming from the living room, interrupted them.

  “So what if a motorcycle cut off your stupid arm? You have another one, don’t you?” they heard her yell, and then something crashed.

  “Lucy!” Lorelei rushed around the island to find Davis standing about three feet from her, breathing hard, a lamp broken against the wall behind her. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I’ve had it with her—with everyone!” Davis snapped and stalked out of the room.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Lucy said and ran to her.

  “You need to apologize to Davis, not me,” Lorelei said as she scooped up her daughter. “Why did you say that to him?”

  “Because he’s mean!” she said and started to cry.

  “I’d better go talk to him,” Finn said, but Lorelei thought it was time she said something. Finn had been running interference for her and Lucy for two weeks. It wasn’t fair that he had to be the one to constantly smooth things over.

  “Can I?” she asked. “If Davis and I don’t start getting along, this arrangement will never work. Right now he resents me and Lucy, even though I’m here to help him.”

  “He really likes kids. Having a child around should cheer him up. He’s just...in a bad place.”

  “I understand that. But Lucy’s right. He needs to quit feeling sorry for himself. It might sound harsh, but babying him isn’t doing him any good. He’s not the only person in the world who’s ever suffered.”

  Finn studied her for a moment. “You’re going to tell him that?”

  “Maybe.” If she managed to summon the nerve. His brothers wouldn’t do it because they felt too sorry for him. They treated him like an invalid, and that was part of the problem. The loss of his arm would be a real challenge, but it didn’t have to destroy the rest of his life. Maybe he needed to hear a few harsh realities, or he’d never recover.

  She gave her daughter a hug and passed her off to Finn. “Can you keep an eye on Lucy for a few minutes? Stop her from getting into the glass?”

  Nolan appeared at the top of the stairs. He worked until two, so he often slept late. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What was that noise?” He was standing in nothing except his boxers, raking the sleep-mussed hair from his face. She spent enough time in the house that none of them bothered to be particularly modest.

  “Your oldest brother is throwing a tantrum.” She motioned to the broken lamp he’d thrown against the wall.

  He pinched his neck as though he had a crick. “He’s...not himself.”

  She was tired of their excuses. “I don’t care. He can’t behave like that. What if a piece of glass had shot out and hit Lucy? Someone has to put a stop to his bullshit.”

  “And you’re going to be the one?” Nolan asked.

  “Why not?” she replied.

  Nolan looked to Finn. “You think that’s what’s best?”

  Finn hesitated as though he might stop her, but then he shrugged and wiped Lucy’s tears. “I guess we’ll find out,” he told Nolan.

  24

  serenity

  SERENITY WATCHED AS Reagan dialed her uncle. She didn’t expect him to pick up, especially right away, so she was surprised when he said hello.

  She wrung her hands as she listened to their conversation, which Reagan had on speaker so she could hear and help interpret the way her uncle said certain things—or didn’t say certain things. She was, after all, the one who knew him.

  “This is Rosalind,” Reagan said.

  He hesitated. “Rosalind. Rosalind who?”

  “Sands. Don’t you remember me?”

  Reagan was talking boldly, confidently, impersonating her mother in a no-nonsense, brisk voice.

  “No. I’ve never heard of you before,” he started but caught himself a second later and reversed his answer. “Wait. You took me off guard is all. Of course I remember you. How could I ever forget? It wasn’t every day that... Never mind. It’s been years and years. Why are you calling me?”

  Serenity’s heart sank. They’d guessed right—they’d figured it out. Rosalind knew Vance. Charlotte must’ve had an affair with him, and he must’ve slept with Reagan’s mother and Lorelei’s, too.

  Serenity felt nauseous. She doubted Reagan was any happier with this information. Reagan believed her father to have been a good man who’d died when she was very young; it wouldn’t be pleasant to learn he was alive and well—and yet not part of her life. That meant either he’d let her down or her mother had lied to her.

  Lorelei was the only one who might be pleased. At least she’d know where she came from, and maybe Vance could shed some light on who her mother was.

  Even though they’d expected to receive confirmation of what they’d already found, Reagan seemed as stunned as she was. But Serenity didn’t want to tip him off that something was up. She made a rolling motion with her hand, indicating that Reagan needed to hold it together long enough to finish the conversation.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “My daughter—our daughter—took one of those DNA tests,” Reagan said.

  Although she sounded less certain, Serenity hoped Vance wouldn’t notice.

  “What are you talking about? Our daughter? She’s not mine!”

  “I’m talking about Reagan.”

  “I know who you’re talking about, but you understood—” Suddenly, he fell silent. Then his voice changed, grew suspicious instead of indignant. “Wait—what’s going on?” he said tentatively. “Who is this?”

  Reagan’s eyes flew wide.

  “Damn it! Tell me who you are!” he said when she didn’t respond.

  Reagan nearly dropped the phone in her hurry to hang up.

  After she did, they gaped at each other.

  “What the hell?” Reagan set her phone on the table as if she didn’t dare touch it any longer and walked to the railing and back, trying to calm down. “He said he wasn’t my father,” she reiterated as if Serenity hadn’t heard for herself. “And he sounded pretty damn ce
rtain of it.”

  “But he has to be your father,” Serenity insisted. “He has to be mine and Lorelei’s, too. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

  “He acted as if there was some other explanation—and that my mother should know it.”

  “If there is another one, she probably does! But will she tell you?”

  “Not if it reflects poorly on her. My mother seems to believe she’s never made a mistake in her life.”

  “If I could get a DNA sample from him, we’d know for sure.”

  “It’ll be a waste of time to go to Vegas. He acted shocked that I—or Rosalind—would say such a thing, as if I must’ve lost my mind.”

  He had. Reagan was right. “But he obviously knew about you. He recognized your name.”

  Reagan returned to the railing and looked pensively through the tall trees that surrounded them. “What if you got a DNA sample from your father instead? Wouldn’t that be easier? If we’re all related to him, we’ll have our answer—or at least good reason to continue pursuing Vance. We’ll know then that your uncle must be lying.”

  “He’s got to be lying. We have that letter.”

  “Just because he had an affair with your mother doesn’t mean he had an affair with mine, or that any of us are his.”

  “He mentions a baby!”

  “Still. I say we get your father’s DNA and go from there.”

  Serenity hadn’t seen her parents for several months, and she knew her mother felt she’d been acting distant lately. She had been acting distant.

  “Why not?” Reagan asked. “Or wait until you finish your book. I don’t want anything getting in the way of that—not even this. We don’t have to know now, I guess.”

  “It takes six to eight weeks to get the DNA results. If we’re going that route, we should start pretty soon. Then we might know by the end of summer.”

  “That would be good,” Reagan agreed.

  “Okay. I’ll go this weekend or next, whenever I can get a flight for a decent price.”

  “What reason will you give your folks for coming?”