by Kay Lyons
The Last Goodbye
Seaside Sisters Series
Kay Lyons
Kindred Spirits Publishing
THE LAST GOODBYE Copyright © 2020 by Kay Lyons
Cover Art © 2020 @ konradbak
978-1-946863-76-8
978-1-946863-81-2
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
About the Author
FAQ
Chapter 1
Dominic Dunn hit his turn signal and waited for a family of five to cross the sidewalk before he turned into the Carolina Cove Inn lot and parked, dread filling his stomach. Just the sight of the happy families and tourists wandering the sidewalks, lounging on restaurant patios, and enjoying the lively Saturday night left him angry. He should've ignored the letter. Ignored his next-door neighbor and best friend, ignored his boss and coworkers who said he had to honor Lisa's last request and come here.
"Mister? You gonna get out?"
The boy's voice startled Dominic and he turned to see a kid around eight years old watching him. The salt-air breeze blowing through the open windows of his car brought with it the smell of fried foods from the restaurants nearby, and seagulls squawked as they flew overhead.
"Mister?"
"Yeah," Dominic said, only then realizing he'd pulled into a parking place and was literally sitting there with his foot on the brake as he debated his choices of whether to throw the new car in reverse and floor it to get out of Carolina Cove as quickly as possible… or stay the prepaid two weeks Lisa had booked for him before her death.
"Doesn't look like it. Are you drunk?"
A rough-sounding chuckle left his chest. "Do you get a lot of drunk people here?"
"Sometimes."
"I see. Well, I'm not drunk. Just trying to decide if I want to stay here."
"Oh. You got a reservation?"
Did the kid ever stop asking questions? A memory formed, that of his son, Elijah, at the same age. "Yeah, I do."
"Then why don't you wanna stay?"
Dominic glanced at the clock and noted the time. If he left now, he'd add another six hours to his drive from Atlanta. Not how he wanted to spend what was left of the day. Maybe he should spend the night and head back to Atlanta first thing in the morning? "You've convinced me. I guess I will stay."
"I'll show you the way to the office."
"Do your parents know you're out here near the street? You're awfully young to be wandering about on your own."
The kid’s shoulders squared and he lifted his chin to a defiant angle.
"I'm almost ten."
He looked younger, maybe because of his small stature. "Well, almost ten or not, there are a lot of strangers milling around, and it's not safe for kids these days. Are you visiting?" He sounded like an old man talking about "the good old days" but it was true. What kind of parent just let their kid wander the streets in a beach town full of people, some of whom probably waited on the opportunity to grab a kid and head out of town?
"No. I live here. You coming or not?"
The kid had spunk, Dominic had to give him that.
He rolled up the windows of the Porsche 911, killing the powerful engine with another press of a button. He felt a little conspicuous driving the flashy car, but he had to admit he loved the power. Just like Lisa knew he would.
He opened the door and climbed out of the low vehicle, yet another thing to get used to after driving a family-friendly SUV for so many years.
"Wow. You're tall. My mom is too. I hope I'm tall when I grow up."
Dominic locked the car and fell into step behind the boy. "I see the sign for the office. You can head home if you like."
"No. I need to check in anyway." The kid turned around and walked backward, rolling his eyes in classic kid fashion. "Or my mom will freak out and call the police again."
Again? "Does that happen a lot?"
"Her calling the police or freaking out?"
"Take your pick."
"Yeah."
Yeah to… both? Dom bit back another chuckle. Given the kid's intrepid personality, he probably kept his mom busy.
The kid flipped face-forward and Dom watched as the boy ran up the two steps leading to the office. He yanked open the door.
"Mom! Reservation!"
Dom noted the wide southern porch with its rocking chairs and a few chairs and tables before he followed the kid inside, well able to see why Lisa had liked the inn so much if the porch and office interior were anything by which to judge. It was her style of decorating. Beachy but understated.
The office walls were a soft gray with blue and sand-colored accents. There was a comfortable-looking couch and chair in the waiting area, a rope swing hanging from the ceiling in front of a painted mural of the beach and ocean behind, and on the opposite side, a coffee bar, popcorn machine, and snack area with a couple of parlor-type tables and chairs.
"Mom!"
"Samuel, how many times have I told you? No yelling. Inside voice," a woman stated as she appeared from a hallway behind the chest-high desk.
Dominic stilled, uncomfortable with the stomach-punching fact he found her beautiful. He'd guess her age to be early to mid-thirties, tall like her son said, at around five eight. Her auburn hair was scooped back and held at her nape, but curly tendrils framed her face and highlighted striking eyes that matched the blue of the ocean painting behind the check-in area.
"But, Mom, you have a reservation and sometimes don’t hear me."
"A— Oh,” she said, locking gazes with Dominic. “Sorry about that. Welcome to Carolina Cove Inn. I'm Ireland Cohen, the manager."
He forced himself to focus on her name rather than her beauty. "Ireland? Like the country?"
"Yes."
"Unusual name."
"Unusual family," she said by way of explanation. She flashed them both a smile. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?"
"Not at all. Samuel kept me company."
"Mom, you should see his cool car! I'll bet it goes really fast. Does it?"
"It does."
"Maybe you'll take me for a ride sometime?"
"Samuel."
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Oh."
"And even if he wasn't, Samuel, that's not something you ask our guests. We've talked about this, remember?” the boy’s mother said while sliding her son a stern glare.
"Yes, ma'am."
Samuel glanced at Dominic and rolled his eyes, and yet again Dom found himself stifling a chuckle. And wondering at the last time he'd laughed s
o much in such a short span of time. "Tough break, kid."
"Let's get you checked in. Name?"
"Dominic Dunn."
"Domin—"
His name ended with a gasp and Ireland's eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly and managed to keep them from falling, but in that instant, he knew she recognized him—and knew his reason for being there.
Chapter 2
Ireland bit her tongue in an attempt to pull herself together. She blamed her emotional reaction on the stress of the day, but she knew the tears were really the raw reality of life. "I'm sorry. My night manager had an emergency and I-I just got here. I hadn't had a chance to look at the reservation list or I would've— I-I'm so, so sorry for your loss."
Dominic Dunn stood before her looking every bit the sad, weary man Lisa had claimed he would be. Tall, with a bit of silver starting to shine at his temples due to the overhead lights, he looked physically fit but worn, the lines around his eyes and forehead deep despite a year's distance from the tragedy of Lisa’s death.
A copy of Lisa Dunn's obituary had been sent to her by the friend who had traveled with Lisa to Carolina Cove after Lisa's diagnosis. The news was both sad and informative because it meant Lisa's plan for her beloved husband was going into play. And now… now Dominic Dunn stood before her, six foot plus of mourning male, and Ireland felt sadness and anger and jealousy, even envy, all balled up in a horrible mix.
"Thank you. I take it you know whatever arrangements Lisa made?"
His words dragged her out of the quagmire of her mind, and she nodded and cleared her throat of the emotional lump.
That she did. On the last day of her stay, Lisa had come to Ireland and asked to schedule a reservation for one year after her death. Lisa had wanted to do something for her husband like what she'd seen in a movie, where the dying husband planned surprises for his wife to help her recover from his passing. Lisa's friend would inform Ireland of Lisa's passing and that would set the clock, so to speak. She'd paid in advance. And left a letter to be given to her husband after his stay was completed.
"Mom? What's wrong? You look weird."
She cleared her throat again and gave Samuel a look she hoped would silence him, at least momentarily. "Samuel, be still. Um… Let me just…" She quickly pulled up the reservation and got Dominic checked in, swiping key cards for his use along with printing a parking sheet for his car. "You're in the suite. Room three hundred. There's an elevator located right there," she said, pointing it out, "or you can take the stairs outside. The suite has a sitting area, small kitchenette, and large balcony. This is a parking confirmation," she said, holding up the paper. "Just place the notice on your dash when you're here so you don't get towed. Unfortunately parking is an issue this time of year and people try to take advantage."
"No problem."
"You have coffee in your room, but we also have it here, as you can see, as well as snacks you can purchase. If you want something a little more substantial, you can order in or take the hallway to the right of your door and go to the pier house. Just don't forget your key card to get back into the door because otherwise you'll have to come all the way around and enter here through the office, which closes at ten p.m. The pier house is open twenty-four hours, and I've included a list of local restaurants and our favorite coffee shop."
"My aunt London owns the coffee shop," Samuel said.
"Ireland and London?"
"Unusual family," Ireland repeated, a smile replacing some of the sadness and anger she'd felt since learning his identity. "All of my sisters were named after the place they were conceived."
Despite the fatigue he wore like his travel-wrinkled clothes, Dominic smiled. He was handsome when he smiled.
"How many sisters?"
"There are five of us in all."
He whistled softly. "Our two were a handful. I can't imagine five. What are their names?"
"Ireland, London, Holland, Frankie—France—and Carolina," Samuel quickly said, ticking off their names on his fingers. "Cool, huh?"
Dominic pierced her with his dark-eyed gaze, his amusement crinkling the crow's feet around his eyes. "Military family or world travelers?"
"Military," Samuel said as he swiped a package of peanut butter crackers from the display. "My grandpa is a colonel."
"A retired colonel, and I saw that," she said.
"I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry but those are for the guests. Your snack is in the back."
"Hand me a couple of those, would you, Samuel?"
Samuel did as Dominic requested, and he placed them on the counter.
"How much?"
"Two dollars." Dominic pulled several ones from his wallet to give to her before handing one of the packages to her son. "Oh, you don't have to—"
"Thanks! These'ns are my favorite."
"You're welcome, and they're mine, too. Thanks for showing me the way to the office."
Knowing she'd look bad to insist Samuel give the treat back, she filled a small bag with the parking notice, check-in information, local events and times, and general information and handed it to Dominic across the counter. "Thank you—for the snack. And welcome to the Inn—for however long you decide to stay with us."
Dominic took the bag from the counter and added the package of crackers before heading out of the door. She watched him go and waited several seconds after the door shut before rounding the desk and looking out the window.
"Can I play video games now?"
Her eyebrows rose when she spotted the "cool car" Samuel had mentioned. That definitely qualified as a cool car, but she could only imagine the cost. Her eleven-year-old Honda might look a little rough, but she liked not having a car payment. Hilda the Honda had kept her safe all this time, and she was grateful to have such a reliable vehicle.
"Mom?"
"Yeah."
"I can? Yesss!"
"Wait, what?" She glanced at Samuel over her shoulder. "I said yes because you said my name. What did you ask?"
"If I can play video games now."
"First tell me why you left baseball practice early. I thought today was the party? Isn't that why I sent drinks?"
Samuel lifted his bony shoulder in a shrug. "It was boring."
"You say Aunt London's coffeehouse is boring, but you spent most of the day there."
"It is but it's not as boring."
"Sammy, if something is going on, you can tell me. Did something happen at practice?"
"No."
"Then why did you leave?"
"I just wanted to. And Aunt London said she likes me helping her at the coffee shop."
"I'm sure she does."
"So can I go play now?"
She crossed her arms over her front and nodded, knowing her son held something back but unsure as to how to get him to talk about it. Talking wasn't something Samuel shied away from, but talking about his feelings? That was another story. Maybe she should call the coach tomorrow and just… check in?
With Samuel in the back room, her gaze returned to the busy streets of Carolina Cove and the parking lot outside. Sammy had gotten out of school for the summer last week, and the tourist season had hit like a color-blasted, flip-flop-wearing bomb had gone off, filling the otherwise small town with crowds.
Dominic finished placing the parking sheet beneath his windshield and now removed a carry-on suitcase. Once the car was locked, however, he simply stood there, bag in hand, and stared up, either at the upper floors of the inn or the sky. She wasn't sure which. But his expression…
Oh, she knew that look. She'd felt that look. Recognized the pose because she'd done much the same the day she'd packed her car and Samuel and showed up on her parents' doorstep, heartbroken, reeling, and as lost as Dominic looked right now.
She hugged her arms tighter around her front and tried to pretend it was because of the air conditioning blowing over her.
Life was hard. Hurt was deep. Death inevitable.
But she'd still ar
gue the death of a spouse was easier to accept than having the man she’d loved, the man who’d promised her a lifetime of love, make the conscious decision to rip her heart out because of another woman.
Chapter 3
Early the next morning, Dominic tossed his Dopp kit into his bag and zipped it closed. He grabbed the handle to lift it from the bed only to pause. Lisa had put a lot of thought and love into planning this trip, and after getting some much-needed sleep, he felt bad about cutting it short. But who wanted to go on a beach vacation alone? Had she thought of that? When Lisa had set the trip up, she'd been there with her best friend from grade school. She'd had someone to do all of the things she'd mentioned doing in the letter whereas he… didn't.
He groaned aloud and lowered his chin to his chest. The least he could do was take a quick look around instead of loading up and heading out before the summer traffic thickened as vacation weeks ended while others began.
His stomach growled loudly.
He'd made do with the crackers purchased for himself and Samuel and the remainder of a bottle of water bought at his last gas stop before the bridge into Wilmington. Now his belly ached with hunger, and something about being in this place Lisa had loved so much made him want to go out and explore a bit to find out why. Walk until he found the peace she'd discovered here after her prognosis had changed from bad to terminal.
He turned and grabbed his key card from atop the dresser where he'd left it last night. Food. A walk. Then he'd leave.
Outside, humidity saturated the air in a taste of what the day had in store, but the sun was shining and it looked to be beautiful.
He glanced over the open walkway to the inn's office below, his gaze lingering on the entry door. The manager's teary response to his identity as Lisa's husband had humbled him, but it wasn't the first time someone had shown that reaction. Lisa had that kind of an impact on people. On him. And not a day went by that he didn't ask himself why her and not him. Why her at all?
