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And maybe the girl was setting herself up for heartbreak. Maybe this whole love-and-loss business was one experience she’d be better off without.

It was too soon to tell.

For either of them.

Thirteen

H
E NEEDED MORE
sleep.

Matt set his purchases on the counter of Evans Tackle Store: hooks for trolling baitfish and two large coffees to go for him and Tom.

Two weeks of getting up in the middle of the night to change beds was getting old.

Especially when he had to be up at five in the morning.

The tourist section of the store was still dark, the bright T-shirts hanging like shrouds, the key chains and shot glasses glinting in the shadows. In mismatched chairs on the other side, men in waders and sweatshirts talked about their neighbors, their trucks, the latest restrictions on commercial catches, and the current NOAA weather report. The air was thick with the tang of oil and tobacco, the hum of the lights and refrigerator, the drip and gurgle of the coffeepots.

“You listen to every damn weather advisory, you’ll starve,” Randy Johnson, a commercial fisherman, complained.

“And if you ignore them, you’ll drown,” quipped George Evans from behind the register. He rang Matt up. “Hey, Matt. Haven’t seen you in here lately.”

“Matt’s got other fish to fry in the mornings,” put in one of the men around the table.

“Hear he’s hooked on the new teacher,” Randy Johnson said.

“Couple of weeks now, isn’t it? Must be a record.”

“He’s so pretty with that gaff in his mouth, we ought to string him up and take his picture.”

Matt shrugged off the ribbing and paid for the coffees. Let them have their fun. He and Allison were fine. He and Allison were great. He didn’t have to make promises, she didn’t make demands.

“I’d buy you a drink,” Sam Grady said behind him. “But you already have coffee.”

Matt turned. “Sam.” Surprise lightened his voice. He didn’t usually see Sam here. “Just fueling up. Got a party of two going out for king mackerel today. You can come along if you want to crew.”

“Wish I could. But I only dropped in to say good-bye. Driving to a work site in Cary today.”

“Trouble on the job?”

Sam grinned, quick and sharp. “You could say that. Ever since the old man checked himself out of the hospital, all he can do is bitch about every decision I made while he was laid up. I’ve got my own business to run. I can’t stick around and drive up his blood pressure. Maybe he’ll relax when I’m gone.”

Sam’s dad was a dick. Time and illness hadn’t changed that. Absence wouldn’t either. But pointing that out wouldn’t help Sam.

“Give me a call when you get back,” Matt said instead. “We’ll get us some blues, some brews.”

“That’d be good. If you can spare the time from Hot Teacher.”

Matt eyed his oldest friend. “You know my rule. Never let a woman interfere with fishing.”

“Bullshit. Jenny Vaughan, sophomore year,” Sam said promptly. “You blew off pier fishing for a pair of breasts.”

Matt grinned. “Hey, they were my first breasts.” His first everything, he remembered. Pretty, fun-loving Jenny. “Anyway, she’s married now. Two kids and another on the way.”

“And so it goes.” Sam shook his head. “Watch yourself, pal. Heard you were thinking of taking the plunge again yourself.”

Hot coffee burned Matt’s mouth as he gulped. “What?”

“You and Hot Teacher.”

Matt felt a spurt of something like panic. “No.”

Sam raised his brows. “Okay.”

Matt swallowed again to relieve the sudden dryness in his mouth. “We’ve only been seeing each other a couple of weeks.”

“Nobody else, though, right?”

“So? That’s only because there’s no one else I want to be with.”

“Sure,” Sam said lightly. “Let me know when you’ve moved on. Maybe I’ll come back and cheer her up.”

“Try, and I’ll kick your ass,” Matt said.

Sam grinned. “Relax. Your girlfriend’s safe from me. She’s not my type anyway.”

Matt rubbed his jaw. He would have said Allison was exactly Sam’s type. They had the same advantages, the same background; classy, moneyed, privileged.

“Too much like dating my sister,” Sam said.

Sam’s half sister Chelsea was the princess of the family, with sweet ways and an even sweeter smile. Matt winced. She was also barely twenty-one.

“I would never hit on your sister,” Matt said. “Any more than you would hit on mine.”

Sam started to say something. Shook his head.

“What?” Matt said.

“Nothing.”

Matt narrowed his eyes. “You never did.”

“What do you think?”

“I think Meg wouldn’t have anything to do with you. She’s too smart.”

“Too smart for both of us.”

“Besides, if you touched her back then, I’d have to kill you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Sam’s eyes danced. “You better hope Hot Teacher doesn’t have a brother.”

“She does. They don’t see each other.”

“Uh-huh. Since when did you start exchanging family histories with your dates?”

Matt shrugged. “It came up.”

“Listen to you. She’s got you wriggling on the line and you don’t even know it.”

Matt frowned as he carried his coffees a hundred yards down the waterfront to Fletcher’s Quay.

Sam was just yanking his chain about Meg. About Allison.

Maybe he did enjoy Allison’s company. Maybe he had gotten into the habit of looking for her at the end of the day, of dropping by to see her at night. That didn’t mean he was hooked.

So he’d filled up her gas tank. Big deal. She’d gotten up twice in the dark hours before dawn to fix scrambled eggs and coffee before he stumbled home.

So what if she was spending time with his son? Hard to avoid that, given her job. She’d actually gotten Josh interested in some after-school project, writing for the paper.

But these were only minor course adjustments, Matt told himself. He was hardly sailing off with her into the sunset.

He could want her, he could enjoy being with her. But he’d learned the hard way that he was better off if he didn’t need her.

If he didn’t let himself depend on anyone but family.

“J
OSH, DO YOU
have your lunch?” Tess asked before she could stop herself.

Josh grinned tolerantly, bending to kiss her cheek. “Yep. Packed it last night. Thanks for breakfast, Grandma.”

She smiled up at him, her tall, beautiful grandson. “My pleasure.”

She stood at the back door to watch him walk the garden path to Lindsey Gordon’s waiting car. He looked so much like Matt at the same age that her heart gave a little squeeze. He waved before he climbed into the car, but she could see he’d already left her in his head, all his attention focused forward, on the girl, on the road, on whatever it was that occupied the thoughts of teenage boys. Sex, probably. She hoped he and that girl weren’t getting too serious.

Tess made a small sign of the cross, a blessing in the air, as they drove away, the way her own mama used to fifty years ago.

One child down, one to go.

She turned back to Taylor sitting at the kitchen table, wearing an oversize shirt and jeans, Luke’s cap planted defiantly on her blond head. Where it would remain, Tess knew, until Taylor crossed the school threshold.

“Almost time to go, honey,” Tess said.

Taylor looked at the clock on the stove. “I have eight more minutes.”

Tess smiled. She considered it a healthy sign that Taylor
felt acclimated enough, secure enough, to object to a change in her routine.

“I need to make an early start this morning,” Tess said. “I’m leaving right after I drop you off.”

Taylor’s blue eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

“Just over to the mainland.”

“For how long?”

Tess looked up from her to-do list, alerted by the child’s suspicious tone. Of course. Too many adults in Taylor’s short life had left and not come back. It was enough to give anybody trust issues.

Or nightmares.

She brushed a hand over Taylor’s head, pretending not to notice how the girl stiffened under her touch. “Not long. I’ll be back before you’re home from school.”

“Why do you have to go?”

“Well…” Now Tess was the one to check the clock.

Why did children always start conversations at the most inconvenient times? Right before bed or when guests were coming or while you were on your way out the door? Matt and Meg and Luke had been the same.

But you had to talk when they were ready, Tess thought. And Taylor hadn’t ever been ready before.

“I have an appointment in Beaufort,” Tess said, trying to sound breezy and failing. “With Kate Dolan.”
The lawyer.
“Your mom’s boss.”

Taylor’s small, pale face pinched. “Are you going to give me back?”

Tess’s jaw dropped. “Give you back?”

“To Grandma Jo.”

“No.” Tess was genuinely shocked. “Never. Your daddy wants you to stay with us, baby. You live here with us now.”

Taylor’s bony shoulders became a fraction less rigid. “Okay.”

Tess drew a deep breath, conscious of having blundered,
unsure how to make things right. She had never had to live through the knock at the door, the car at the curb, the two Marines waiting on the porch with grave faces and the news:
Killed In Action
. But she understood Taylor’s fears. Living on base, Tess had seen that car pull up to other curbs, the grief detail stand on other porches. She’d delivered cakes and casseroles, offered hugs and tears, prayers and practical help to other families whose fathers would never come home. Sometimes the best you could do was to listen.

“Is there anything you want to talk about, honey?”

Wary blue eyes surveyed her from under Luke’s Marine cap.

Tess tried again. “About your dad or, well…anything? Your mom?”

Taylor shook her head.

Something was wrong. Tess felt it in her bones. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t define it, couldn’t dismiss it.

I need to know,
Tess thought, but she couldn’t force Taylor to open up to her. Matt was just as much in the dark as she was. Luke didn’t know anything. Anyway, Tess didn’t want to worry him while he was in a war zone with a bunch of vague suspicions that might not amount to anything at all.

She knew the Simpsons. Ernie liked to drink too much on a Friday night and Jolene was a little scattered, but she had a good heart. They’d made their mistakes as parents, letting that boy of theirs run roughshod over the little kids, letting Dawn run wild. But then, Luke had run a little wild, too, and Tess herself hadn’t been able to do a damn thing to stop him.

Taylor fed bacon to Fezzik under the table while Tess pretended not to see. But she couldn’t look the other way on this conversation.

This afternoon she was taking her questions to the lawyer. Perhaps Dawn had confided in her.

Tess studied her grandchild’s down-bent head. “Everything’s
going to be all right.” It was a promise. “I just want to talk to Miss Dolan.”

No answer.

Tess supressed a sigh. “I figured while I was over there I’d do some shopping in Morehead City,” she said lightly. “We have a big group this weekend, the Kellers. It’s their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They’re coming to stay with their kids and grandkids and I want to get some special touches to put in their room. I thought while I was at the mall I could pick up that comforter we looked at for your bedroom.”

Taylor shrugged.

Tess refused to be discouraged. She had hoped that decorating Taylor’s new bedroom would help the child feel at home. “Did you see something in the catalog you like better?”

“No, it’s okay. At least it’s not pink.”

“Right,” Tess said. “Because pink would show dog hair.”

Taylor snorted and stuffed the last of her toast in her mouth.

A wave of pure love swept over Tess. Taylor was tough. She would be all right. They all would be all right.

Girls could bounce back from almost anything. Look at Meg. It was boys you had to watch and worry about, who carried their damage silently inside.

While Taylor scrambled to get ready, Tess indulged herself by adding a few girly items to her list: T-shirts, a hoodie, maybe a pair of leggings. Nothing pink. Meg hadn’t been a fan of pink, either.

“Can I have a piece of cake?” Taylor asked as they drove to school.

Tess slanted a look at her granddaughter riding shotgun. “What cake?”

“The wedding cake.”

The Kellers
. “It’s an anniversary party, honey. Cakes are just for newlyweds.”

“Why?”

“Well…It’s tradition. So the husband and wife start their new life together with a little sweetness.”

Taylor slumped in her seat. “That’s dumb. If I was having a party, I’d want a cake.”

“You’re right,” Tess said. “After fifty years, you deserve a cake.”

Fifty years.
She and Tom had been married forty.

Maybe while she was at the mall, she’d hit Belk’s lingerie department, do some shopping of her own. Tess smiled to herself. Tom deserved something, too, for putting up with her for all these years.

And he’d never been a fan of cake.

“You have a good day!” she called as Taylor slipped out of the car. “I’ll pick you up after school.”

She stayed at the curb to watch Taylor drag off her hat and march into the building, shoulders straight under the straps of her backpack.

Tess pulled out of the car pool line, already revising lists in her head, reviewing what she would ask Kate Dolan. The Spinners’ “Then Came You” played over the radio, the way it had that summer when Tom walked into her parents’ restaurant.

Tess cranked up the volume and drove down island toward the bridge, singing loudly and out of key along with the radio.

T
HE LONG LINE
on the port side twitched as the baitfish darted frantically beneath the surface. The
Sea Lady II
was fourteen miles out in the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, finally catching some action.

Up on the bridge, Matt watched as the tip bent and the line took off. He yelled to Scott, the nearer of their two passengers. Scott grabbed at the rod, fumbling as he tried to jam the butt end of the rod into his fighting belt.