Driftwood Lane (19 page)

He seemed eager to stay, and she dreaded turning him down, but extending his time was out of the question. The furnace and the electric would be done. Those were the two biggies.

“Jake, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I think it’s time we parted ways.”

The relaxed grin fell from his lips. The light in his eyes was extinguished as if she’d doused his hope with a fire hose. More than just disappointment, he seemed surprised.

“I’d love to have the work completed, and you’ve done a fine job, but I really don’t have the money, and I’m eager to—to move on.” She twisted the ring on her finger, then wondered if the action was telling.

“Oh.”

“I hope you—”

Max and Ben entered the front door, arguing over who got the video game first. While Meridith settled the dispute, Jake slipped quietly out the door.

When the house was quiet again, she picked up the current issue of
Yesterday’s Island
and sat in the armchair, browsing through it. A photo in the events section caught her eye. It was a line of antique cars, decorated with daffodils, driving down a cobblestone street.

She remembered the photos of Noelle and her dad in the Galaxie. Meridith took the paper to her room, where she opened her closet door and knelt on the floor. She flipped through Noelle’s album, pausing at the parade pictures. In one of them Noelle was preschool age, in the others a little older. There were seven of them, each taken a different year.

Meridith knew the Daffodil Festival was approaching. She had a sudden recollection of something Ben had said about decorating the Galaxie, and it all came together. It was a family tradition, and it seemed to be particularly a tradition Noelle shared with her father.

Was that why the girl had been depressed lately? Because the parade was coming, and it was one more thing she’d lost? Did she feel like she was losing her dad all over again?

Noelle hadn’t needed a trip to the cemetery this afternoon. She needed a way to keep her father’s memory alive. Meridith wondered if she’d like to participate in the parade, or if that would only make her sadder. There was only one way to find out. Noelle called later and asked to spend the night with Lexi, and since Meridith had become familiar with her parents she felt safe saying yes.

It was a restless night’s sleep. The guests stumbled in after midnight, and then Max had a nightmare at three o’clock.

When morning arrived, Meridith forced herself from bed to prepare eggs, bacon, and biscuits, which sat in the warmers until they were inedible. At one o’clock, she scraped the food into the trash, then told the children to grab their jackets. She needed out of the house, and the day was warming to a sunny sixty-five degrees.

The kids had wanted to show Meridith the other side of the island, so they decided to ride their bikes over.

“I wish we could take Piper,” Max said as they wheeled their bikes from the garage.

“Why can’t we?” Meridith kicked up the stand and straddled the bike.

“She’s too well-trained on the electric fence,” Noelle said.

“Ever since Mom trained her, she’s afraid to leave the yard,” Max said.

“What happens when you take her out?”

Ben shrugged. “She just freezes. Won’t walk or nothing.”

“Anything,” Noelle said.

So they left Piper and took the Surfside bike path, riding in single file. The sun on her skin and wind in her hair felt good. The boys had worn their trunks, though Meridith wasn’t sure about letting them in the frigid water. She’d brought a couple beach towels she’d found in the upstairs closet.

By the time the bike path opened to the beach, Meridith’s muscles ached. They parked their bikes and kicked off their sandals. The boys ran toward the waves, Ben’s eagerness making up for his shorter legs.

Meridith handed Noelle a towel, spread her own, then retrieved the sunscreen and slathered it on. “Want some?”

“We put it on before we left.”

“We probably sweated it off.”

Noelle shrugged, then stretched out on the towel, closing her eyes.

Meridith planted her palms behind her and watched Max and Ben frolic in the water. So far they hadn’t gone more than ankle deep. The fresh, salty air blended with the scent of her coconut lotion in a soothing combination.

Above them, three seagulls drifted on the wind, their cries punctuating the shush of waves crashing the shoreline.

“Did you have fun at Lexi’s?”

“Guess so.”

The bike ride in the sun had made a few freckles pop out on Noelle’s nose. She looked young and small lying on the oversized beach towel.

“The Goldmans are coming next weekend. Do you remember them? They said they come every year for the Daffodil Festival.”

“Yeah.”

“Ben said Mrs. Goldman helps decorate the old car in the garage for the parade?” She hoped phrasing it as a question would spark a conversation.

“Classic.”

“What?”

“It’s not an old car, it’s a classic. A 1959 Ford Galaxie convertible with a V8 and a dual exhaust.”

Meridith smiled, encouraged at the response in spite of Noelle’s irritable tone. “I have no idea what all that means.”

When Noelle said nothing else, Meridith tried again. “It was your dad’s car?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why does Mrs. Goldman decorate it?”

Noelle sighed hard, as if responding to a pestering preschooler. “There’s a parade every year at festival time and the Goldmans come for it, and Mrs. Goldman arranges flowers and stuff for her work so she helps decorate the car.”

Meridith tried to ignore the girl’s
Are you happy now?
tone. “Oh, I see.”

She watched Max wade into the water to his thighs. When a wave hit his belly, he squealed and ran for shore. Ben, who hadn’t dared to venture in past his ankles, laughed.

Meridith considered how to continue the subject of the parade. “Would you and your brothers want to participate in the parade?”

The wind blew a strand of Noelle’s hair across her cheek, and she smoothed it back without opening her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the same.” Her voice all but disappeared under the
shush
of a wave.

“That’s true. But it’s kind of sad to let traditions die.”

They’d already lost so much, and this was their last chance to participate, though Noelle didn’t know that. It might be cathartic to carry on this one last time.

Noelle blinked at Meridith, shading the sun with her hand. “I guess we could. The boys might like it.”

It was good to hear a splash of hope in her voice. Meridith smiled. “All right then, let’s do it.”

“Oh, I forgot. I think something’s wrong with the Galaxie. Last time Dad tried to start it, he couldn’t. I don’t think he got it fixed.”

So much for that idea. Unless she could get it repaired before the parade. Her bank account back home was dwindling quickly. Meridith knew nothing about cars, but she had a feeling repairing a classic wasn’t going to be cheap. But Noelle had sounded so hopeful, and now her face had fallen again.

“Maybe we can get it fixed. Let me look into it, okay?”

“Really?”

“We have a week and a half. Maybe it’s something simple, just a twist of a wrench or something.” Who said she wasn’t Pollyanna?

“Okay.” Noelle sprang upright, then scrambled to her feet. “I’m going in.”

She watched the girl go, sand spraying behind her feet, and a satisfied smile tugged Meridith’s lips.

“Noelle said you wanted to get the Galaxie running.”

Meridith jumped at Jake’s voice. She hadn’t heard the screen door.

“You walk like an Indian.”

“You were lost in thought. The Galaxie’s not running?”

She tucked her feet under the Adirondack chair and looked out over the harbor where evening had turned the sky pink and purple. She’d tried to start the car when they’d returned from their ride.

“Something’s wrong with it. You wouldn’t know a good mechanic, would you? Someone that wouldn’t break the bank?”

“I could look at it.” He perched on the edge of the chair next to her. Too close.

She raised her brows at him. “You fix cars too?”

He shrugged. “I’m good with my hands.” The arrogance was back. The cocky half grin, the bold stare.

She was sure he’d meant nothing by the comment. Still, heat climbed her neck and settled in her cheeks. She was glad for the dim lighting.

“Give me the keys, and I’ll try and start it.”

Maybe it was another ploy to stay. It would save money, maybe a lot, but was it worth it? “Already did that. It just clicks.”

“Probably a dead battery.”

“That would be cheap, right?”

“Depends. Old cars can be tricky, and if you take it to a repair shop, sometimes they don’t know what they’re doing. Unless it’s a specialty shop, and then they’ll charge you an arm and a—”

“Okay, I get it. How long would it take?”

“If it’s just the battery, have it done tomorrow.”

“What about the fuse box?”

“All set to go in.”

One day on the car, one on the electric, then he’d be out of her hair. “Two more days?”

“Eager to see me go?” That knowing grin.

He did things to her insides, and he knew it. Meridith pressed her lips together and watched the sea grass bow against a breeze.

“Two days and you’ll be rid of me,” Jake agreed. “So long as it’s just the battery.”

Twenty-seven

Meridith woke to a fumbling noise. She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. Twelve fifteen. The college guys were back. A loud laugh—Sean’s, she thought—echoed through the hall. There was no way Jake was sleeping through that.

Meridith turned over and pushed down the covers. It was unseasonably warm, good weather for spring break. She and the kids had gone for another bike ride, this time to Sconset. They’d brought a picnic for lunch on the beach, then enjoyed ice cream cones from Siasconset Market before their ride back.

Stephen had called when they were on the bike path, but she’d let it roll over to voice mail and then forgot to call until it was too late.

Good news was, the Galaxie was fixed. When they returned from Sconset, Jake was closing the hood and the car was purring.

“You fixed it,” she said.

“Needed a charge and some fluids, was all. She’s good as new.”

Jake had backed the car from the garage, then they’d scrounged up a water hose and some buckets and scrubbed until the aqua paint sparkled. Noelle had been all smiles, especially when Meridith asked if they wanted to take a spin around the block. They piled in the car, Jake put the convertible top down, and Meridith took the wheel.

Now, as she turned over again, the image of Jake, elbow on the open window, hair blowing in the breeze, taunted her. Tomorrow was his last day. He said he expected to finish the fuse box by evening, and there was no reason he couldn’t move out then. No reason at all.

She wondered why, when she lay in bed at night, her thoughts turned to Jake. The realization that she didn’t daydream about Stephen pricked her with guilt. It was only because Jake was a thorn in her side.

But soon he’d be gone, and everything would return to normal.

Normal. She didn’t know what that was anymore. Upheaval had become a way of life. She hadn’t liked it as a child, and she didn’t like it now. But when Jake left, it would be better. Then when she returned to St. Louis, everything would be okay. The kids would settle in and make friends, and she and Stephen could plan their wedding.

Stephen
. She had to tell him soon. Trepidation stirred inside, produced adrenaline that would only keep her awake. She didn’t want to think about it now.

She sighed hard. The house was finally quiet again, but she was wide awake.

After wasting two warm breakfasts, Meridith had made a batch of cinnamon rolls for morning. The guys hadn’t even apologized, but they were the guests, she reminded herself. Besides, they were leaving in three days, and she needed the money.

Now that the repairs were finished—at least, as finished as they were going to be—she was free to put Summer Place on the market. But that meant telling the children they were moving to St. Louis, and she wasn’t ready for that.

She placed the task under Things I’m Putting Off, along with Tell Stephen I’m Keeping the Children.

Meridith’s stomach rumbled. Great. They’d eaten an early dinner, then gone for a walk along the beach. Poor Piper had whined from the property’s corner, watching them go. They could hear her clear down to the point. When they’d returned, Meridith helped Max with the dishes, swept the back porch, and made the cinnamon rolls, and by that time, she was ready for bed. Her stomach missed the evening snack.

Her stomach rumbled again.
All right, all right
. She needed to check the front door anyway. The students had left it unlocked when they returned the night before.

Meridith slipped into the white fluffy robe she’d pilfered from a guest room. The back stairs creaked under her bare feet, sounding loud in the tomblike house. At the bottom of the stairs, she unlocked the divider door and stepped into the kitchen.

The oven night-light cast a dim glow over the countertops. Enough light to guide her to the peanuts. She poured out a handful and recapped the jar, replacing it quietly.

She checked the front door and found it unlocked. She turned the dead bolt and returned to the kitchen. Outside, beyond the porch, the moon shed a pale silvery light over the tops of the sea grass, over the darkened ocean.

Had her father liked to go out back on a night like this? Inspired by the moonlight? Her feet headed toward the door. She flipped on the porch light, stepped outside, then guided the screen door back into place. After popping the last few peanuts into her mouth, she brushed the salt from her hands and started down the steps.

The wind had picked up, and the chilly breeze tugged at her hair. She wrapped the robe tightly around her and padded over the flagstones leading to the beach. The briny smell of sea mingled with the tang of freshly cut grass.

Gritty sand stuck to the bottoms of her feet as she took the beach steps. When she reached the bottom, her feet sank into the cool layer of sand. She walked closer to the shoreline, staring at the cone of light the moon cast on the surface.