Half Moon Harbor (34 page)

Grace had looked down to where she was shredding tissues in her lap, but something in Delia's voice had her looking back up again. “Did you want to be?”

Delia opened her mouth, then closed it again. “My stock answer to myself and to the world is no. But that's probably a lie. Your brother is like no one I've ever met, before or since. Our relationship isn't normal, and I'm pretty sure it isn't healthy, or at least not in any way that I can make sense of. So, while I might have harbored a fantasy or two back in the day of being the one who would magically fix him, I grew up and got past that. The only one who can fix him is him. For all intents and purposes, I think he's done that.”

“So, no regrets?”

“No,” Delia said immediately, quietly, and quite sincerely. “We would not have been good for each other.”

“Then. What about now?”

“When he came here after he got out and decided to stay here, we spent a lot of time together. Talking mostly, sometimes not doing anything. He just . . . I was a safe person for him to be around, so when he couldn't stand being alone, he'd be around me. But not in a sexual way, just . . .”

“Friends.”

“I guess. Of a sort. I don't know how you'd describe it. He'd decided to go to school on the Army bill, to figure out what he was going to do, what he was going to be. He seemed to find his place there, which surprised the hell out of me. Not because he was really smart, I knew that, but that he'd conform to the world of academia the way he did. Maybe there was something of the military lifestyle in it that spoke to him. Except, in that world, he could be a complete loner, and he didn't have to save anybody.”

Or kill anybody,
Grace thought, but kept that to herself.

“That's when I sent you the note. I knew he kept track of you. Actually, I didn't know it from him, but in one of my weaker moments, I sort of snooped.”

Grace was shocked to find she had a smile in her, she felt so emotionally swamped. It was real, and that felt good. “Not you.”

“I know, right?” Delia smiled and it remained, though it was a bit sad . . . or maybe it was wistful as she continued. “Anyway, I snooped, realized he'd been keeping track of you all that time, or at least since he'd settled in Maine. I guess I felt like he was doing okay and that he clearly cared about you, so big stupid me sent you that letter. I guess I wasn't as past that fix-him fantasy as I thought I was.”

“And when I didn't come?”

“Well, frankly, I didn't blame you. He might have kept track of you, and I might have understood all his twisted reasons for staying away from you and out of your life, but I couldn't find a single shred of evidence that he'd actually communicated with you in any way. So . . . no, I definitely didn't blame you. I just chalked it up to trying and hoped you'd maybe get some peace out of knowing he was okay. I'm sure I was as dead wrong about that as I was about the rest, but . . . my heart was truly—”

“I know.” Grace stood and winced as the blood rushed to her feet. She'd needed her little cocoon of space in order to handle the information being shared. She held out her arms.

Delia all but lunged up off the couch, hopping a bit when the blood didn't flow quickly enough to her feet, either. She took Grace in a bear hug. “I feel like we're family, you and me,” she said almost fiercely. “I mean, maybe not sisters, but just—”

“I know,” Grace whispered just as fiercely. “I do, too. I have since you sat down across from me in that booth.”

They hugged each other for another long moment, then finally broke apart, sniffling, then laughing a bit as they took in each other's rather emotionally ragged appearance.

“Thank you,” Grace said. “I know that wasn't easy for you, either. And . . . you've given me a lot to think about.”

Just then a scrabble of feet sounded on the dock above them, followed by a series of yips. Whomper. That meant—

“Grace?”

“Down here,” she replied in response to Brodie's shout.

“Whomper just took off, so I figured you were here.”

Grace and Delia took a moment to mop at their faces and wipe their noses with fresh tissue, then rolled their eyes in unison and gave up. Grace climbed above deck first. “Hi, I came out to—oh!” She broke off her explanation as soon as she saw who was with Brodie. “Hi, to you, too!”

She turned instantly back around and stopped Delia from climbing up behind her. She mouthed
Langston is here
.

Delia flushed a bright pink, which was exactly what Grace needed to pull herself together.

Head?
Delia mouthed.

Grace pointed past her to the bathroom, then turned when Brodie bent down to see what she was doing.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep!” she said brightly . . . way too brightly. “I was just out here talking to Delia.”

Brodie's face immediately smoothed and softened. “And? You good?” He held out a hand to help her over the rail and up the ladder to the dock, which was above them as the tide wasn't fully back in yet.

“Very good, yes.” She knew that he knew there was a lot more to it, but he didn't press further since they weren't alone. “And the meeting?” She looked past Brodie to Langston, who beamed at her. Then his expression faltered when he saw her face and noticed she'd been crying.

“Very good,” Brodie answered.

“You won't be having further issues with Winstock,” Langston assured her. “Father or daughter. Is . . . everything okay?” He then turned his attention past Grace, his face instantly wreathed in a huge smile. “Oh my, now who is this lovely creature and why haven't we been introduced?”

Grace laughed when Langston's big muscular form almost sent Brodie headfirst into the harbor as he leaned past him to extend a hand to Delia.

Grace glanced over her shoulder. “This is—” She broke off and did a double take at Delia, who looked as if she'd just stepped out of a spa. “How did you—?” She leaned in and whispered, “You are
so
sharing those secrets with me. I mean, I'm as close to a sister as you'll get, right?”

“Honey, when you work in kitchens all day, you learn quickly how not to look like a stewed tomato. Now, are you going to introduce me or what? I'm not getting any younger here.”

Introductions were made and Langston and Delia made their way down the dock. Since they clearly didn't care if Brodie and Grace followed them and given the laughter floating back through the air behind them, probably preferred they didn't, Brodie held Grace back, then turned her to face him.

“You okay, luv? Truly?”

Her heart tipped right over. “I'm . . . it was a lot. But I'm okay. I have a lot to think about, and to rethink about.” She reached into her shorts and got the envelope Delia had pressed into her hand as she'd climbed up above deck. “Ford sent me a letter.”

“And?”

“I haven't read it yet. I think . . . I need a breather first. To clear my head. He came here because he'd served with Delia's brother. Her brother died in Ford's arms and he brought him back and helped bury him here. It was a long time ago, well before he came to live here full-time. Did you know that story?”

Brodie shook his head. “I didn't, no.” He pulled her into a hug and just held on to her. “That's a lot.”

“It is. There's more. It's insight I didn't have. And it will matter. It's just . . . I've had a lot of years to feel one way and I can't flip a switch.”

“It takes time, luv. And that's okay. You have that.”

She fingered the letter she had clutched to Brodie's broad back. “I know. But I also don't want to lose any more of the time I do have with him. I've lost too much already.”

She straightened and stepped back, looking down at the letter.

“Do ye want me to take a look? Let you know if it's going to be a good thing or a hard thing?”

He's so earnest,
she thought.
He so wants to do the right thing
. Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“What was that for? Not that I mind, but I'll want to know so I can encourage it again.”

She smiled, thinking of the other times they'd said that. “Just for being you.”

“Well then, lucky me, eh?”

She laughed, and it felt . . . cathartic. Grounding. She realized that he really was her anchor, her port in the storm. She didn't have to figure out if she could trust him . . . she just did. It was a strong foundation they had, something to build on. She realized her newfound happiness wasn't Maine. It wasn't location, it wasn't occupation, or any of those things. Even what she was starting to build with her brother was only part of it. Getting to where she wanted to be with Ford would be better, stronger because she had Brodie supporting her along the way. And that was what she'd really come looking for—the love they were sharing and building with each other.

She slipped her arm around his waist and turned them to start down the dock. Whomper had raced ahead and was racing back. Seeing they were finally coming, he raced off again, which made her smile. Home. Family. Heritage. A future.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “No, lucky us.”

B
rodie watched from the deck of the
Mary Margaret
as Grace zipped toward the dock on Sandpiper Island in the skiff. Ford stood on the end of the pier, waiting.

His note had asked Grace to come whenever she wanted. That was all he'd said.
Come out whenever you want.

That was all she had needed to hear. She'd sent word out with Captain Robie that she'd come the end of the week, then had driven Brodie batshit crazy every day, worrying to death about it until it was finally The Day.

He smiled, happy she was finally getting to take the next step. She knew more, understood more, and was better prepared because of it.

He lifted the binoculars to watch. Not that he didn't trust Ford to welcome her. He'd asked her out there after all. But Brodie just . . . needed to. Grace had teased him about his protective nature with her. And he supposed he was. But then, you protected what was important, what was yours.

And Grace Maddox was his.

As if reading his thoughts, Whomper whined and leaned more fully against his ankle.

“She's all right, mate. She'll be fine.”

Through his binoculars he watched as Grace tied up and climbed to the pier, then brother and sister fell into step and started to walk back to the island. Brodie knew she was worried about how to conduct herself with Ford, now that she knew more about his background. She'd had a hard couple days sorting through her feelings. She'd shared everything—about her childhood, about Ford, all of it—over the course of one long, sleepless night. Brodie understood as best he could where her conflicts and demons came from.

He also knew her. Her heart was huge and she was just beginning to understand that. She'd kept it tucked away so long, protected so long, it was a bit petrifying now that its power—and vulnerability—had been unleashed. He knew something of that, how sobering it was to be part of something bigger than only himself, to consider more than his own path, his own goals.

Knowing her as he did, he knew her anger would recede, even the parts that were tucked away deep in those recesses that had nothing to do with being rational, or even right. He also knew those pockets would empty because her heart had fully stepped in and stepped up.

Like Delia, he knew Grace would want to fix her brother. There was likely a long road ahead for her in learning, as Delia had, that it wasn't her job. It was Ford's job . . . if he thought there was something in him that needed fixing.

In the meantime, Brodie hoped brother and sister could forge something meaningful that was at least bare bones functional.

He watched them walk, then grinned. Always pushing and so impatient, that was his Grace. She might take a while to trust, to commit fully, but once she did, there was no holding back.

True to that, Grace made it only as far as the end of the pier before she slid her arm through Ford's and leaned her head on her brother's shoulder.

Brodie knew exactly how that felt. It was the best damn feeling in the world. “Be smart, man, and admit defeat now,” he murmured. “You'll be happy you did.”

1. Find/purchase vintage suitcase or trunk. If you don't have one in your attic, check out local flea markets, antique shops, auctions, yard sales, or go online and look at eBay, Craigslist, etc. The suitcase
   must have
   hard sides. Preferably the old suitcases made from plywood sides or Masonite.
   
2. Find/purchase four table legs. You can use the same sources as above. Look for legs already separated from the table, sold in a bundle, or look at old tables and simply unscrew the legs. You can also go to your local hardware store and purchase new table legs. These can be any length or angle, but all four must be the same. The length will determine the kind of table you'll have—highboy or cafe table, end table, nightstand—short legs will create a coffee table.
   

   Important note!
   If the legs have already been unscrewed from a table, check the screw tops to make certain the threads aren't stripped.
   

   Optional:
   sand down and paint or stain the legs. I preferred to keep mine vintage and rugged looking. (By rugged I mean peeling paint, scuffed wood, to match the aged, somewhat worn look of the suitcase I am using.)
   

3. There are two methods you can use to attach the legs to the bottom of the suitcase, You can use a power drill to drill holes in the four corners of the bottom of the suitcase, insert the screw tops of each leg through the holes, then fasten them on the inside of the suitcase with washers and wing nuts. The problem with this method is it puts a lot of pressure on the attachment point and oftentimes suitcase sides aren't strong enough for that.
   

   My preference is to purchase four top plates from the local hardware store and attach them to the bottom of the suitcase. (Make sure to get the correct plates for the kind of legs you have—straight top plates or angled top plates, depending on how the legs screw in.)
   

   For top plates: Turn the suitcase upside down, measure and mark out the four corner areas to place the hardware, then get your power drill and attach the four plates.
   

4. Option:
   If you feel the bottom of the suitcase is too flimsy or old to withstand even this method, purchase a piece of plywood or particle board and cut it down to fit inside the bottom of your suitcase. Then attach the plates to the exterior bottom of the suitcase so the hardware goes through the suitcase bottom and into the plywood for extra support.
   
5. Screw on your table legs . . . and you're done!
   
6. If you plan to use your new table for storage, or have it open on display, find compatible fabric to put in the bottom of the open suitcase or trunk to hide the hardware or plywood. Depending on the size, a folded old quilt or fabric remnant, folded table cloths, even vintage place mats can be used to line the bottom and retain the vintage feel. If your suitcase already has a fabric lining, you can also carefully remove the lining before attaching the hardware, and/or inserting the plywood, then simply reattach it once the hardware and legs are installed.
   
7. It's time to find just the right place for your new table and decorate!
   

Check out this link for a full, downloadable instruction sheet including photos!