On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel) (27 page)

There was a pause before his mother answered. “She could be right.”

“Do you think so? We shouldn’t have been together in the first place?” He needed answers for it to all make sense.

“You need your mama,” she said without preamble. “I’ll book a flight.”

He chuckled. He did love his mother. “I do not need my mama. I’m fine. And don’t you dare come up here. I’m just trying to figure things out. I really wanted it to work between us.”

“I know you did. But that doesn’t mean that if you found the right person today, you couldn’t still make a marriage work. It could be better than you even imagined.”

“But how would I trust that it was the right person?”

“You’ll just know, Son. It’ll feel right.”

Except he’d thought it felt right with Lisa.

Hadn’t he?

Ginger’s voice asking him why he’d fallen in love with Lisa was suddenly in his head. And he still had no answer. Their marriage had simply been the next logical step in their relationship. It was what people did.

He could think about this for months and get nowhere.

“I need to go, Mom. I have a book to finish.”

“Can I assume you’ll be ignoring your phone again, then?”

He smiled. His mother knew him well. “Absolutely. But this time only because I’m working. Text me if Julie goes into labor, will you?”

“You’ll be here?”

“I’ll catch the next flight down.”

“You’re a good boy, Carter.”

“Thank you, Mom. I love you. Tell Dad I love him, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t there last night.”

“That’s okay. You’ve had a rough year. But we’ll let you make it up to us,” she teased.

“How about a bathroom remodel next time? It’ll go with that spa-sized closet I gave you.”

She laughed. “No bathroom needed. Just you. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I’ll come down for the baby, and I’ll even stick around for a while.”

Except, he hoped Ginger was already moved out before he went back. He didn’t think he could sit there and watch her read on the deck without going over.

And he certainly couldn’t stand around and watch for her to come home with another man.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
OUR

W
ith shaking hands, Ginger slid the key to her house into the lock on the front door. Her excitement was palpable, and her nerves on edge. Her house was finished.

She was there by herself, but that’s as she’d wanted it. Her mother had offered to come with her. The two of them had spent a lot of time together over the last three weeks. Ginger had returned to living with her mom until the house was complete, and they’d worked most evenings finalizing wedding details. Her mother would make a stunning bride in three short days.

But today was Ginger’s day. She was entering her completed house for the first time. And she was a changed woman. She was Ginger Atkinson. Ferry-boat owner, fishing-boat captain, and all-around fantastic person. And she was proud of it.

Carter had done that for her. For which she would forever be grateful.

She stepped across the threshold, and emotion swelled inside her. This was her home.

Remaining where she stood, she let her gaze sweep over all she could see. The coffered ceilings, the airy paint colors, the kitchen counters and cabinets. The light fixtures above her head, and wood flooring beneath her feet. She could see the deck from the front door, and past that, her boardwalk and the beach. This was where she would make a home. Forever.

With or without a man.

She wiped at the tears trekking over her cheeks, and forced her feet to move, pressing a hand to her mouth. It was simply stunning. Everywhere she looked. Gene and his men had done exceptional work.

When she reached the kitchen and stepped to the other side of the peninsula, she dropped her car keys to the granite, and lowered herself to the floor. There was no table in the way to block the view out the bay windows, and the day was bright and happy.

So she sat with her legs crossed over each other, and she let memories of her dad consume her.

“I did it, Dad,” she whispered. With all her heart, she wished he was there with her. She missed him every day.

She also knew that if he were there,
she
wouldn’t be. Not here. She’d be off somewhere being a kindergarten teacher, probably wearing stodgy dresses every day, and married to some boring principal who was losing his hair. And she’d likely rarely get out on a boat.

She wouldn’t have this piece of land. Or this house. She certainly wouldn’t have this view.

And she wouldn’t be the woman she was today. She owed her dad.

But she also owed Carter. Desperately, she wished Carter were there with her, too. He’d had a huge hand in getting the house finished. But mostly, she just wished he was there with her. She missed him. Her heart ached for him.

He hadn’t called since he’d left. Three weeks, and not one word, which hadn’t surprised her. She had, however, broken down and asked Julie about him again. He was writing. Which had given Ginger a great deal of relief.

He’d also talked to Lisa, which had
not
necessarily made Ginger feel better.

He’d needed to do it, though. She understood that, so she was thankful he’d taken that step. It was a chapter in his life not yet closed. He needed to move past it. And Ginger hoped talking to his ex-wife had helped him to do that.

But she wished she could find out how it had gone. How he was now. Either Julie didn’t know, or she hadn’t wanted to divulge, because she’d shared nothing.

A car pulled up outside, and Ginger took one more swipe at her face. No one who knew her well would be surprised that she was standing inside an empty house crying happy tears, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be so blatant about the fact.

She rose, and headed for the door. She wasn’t officially moved in, but she’d hung the welcome sign the minute she’d arrived, so whoever had just driven up would be her first official guest. She had to go greet them.

Both front car doors opened, and her tears resumed. Her first guests were her two best friends in the world.

Andie and Roni squealed from the driveway, and then they were running. Well, Andie was running. Roni kind of hustled with her belly cupped in her arms.

“You’re here!” Ginger squealed back, bouncing up and down on the porch before getting swept up in a group hug. She hadn’t expected to see them until the wedding.

“We wanted to come early and surprise you,” Andie told her.

“Your mom called and said your house would be ready today. So we packed our bags.”

Ginger grinned from ear to ear. “You came early just for me?”

“For no one else,” Roni assured her. “We even came alone. The men are bringing the kids later, so it’s just the three of us for two whole days. But don’t worry. They’ll be here early Friday morning to help.”

“To help what?”

“We’re moving you in.” Andie beamed at her. “Decorations and all. You have a housewarming party on Sunday, have you forgotten? We can’t have guests in here without the place looking like a million bucks.”

“You’re going to shop for me?” Ginger laughed.

“We’re going to shop
with
you,” Roni replied. “And then we’re going to sit back and direct the men as they unload the furniture and hang pictures.”

“You guys are the best.”

“That we are.” Andie hugged her again. “But then you’re going to repay us with babysitting duty.”

Ginger readily agreed and led them inside, and together the three of them oohed and aahed over each feature of the house. Eventually, they made their way to the third floor. She, Andie, and Roni entered the office, and Ginger’s tears once again returned. Only, this time they weren’t due to happiness.

Roni slipped an arm around her. “Should I hop a plane and go kick his ass?”

Ginger hiccupped on a sob. “You’re six months pregnant, so I think, no.”

“I could do it. I’ve got a mean roundhouse kick.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Ginger smiled and leaned into Roni while Andie snuggled in on the other side. They stood in front of the closed deck doors, watching the glistening water on the other side.

“He still hasn’t called?” Andie asked.

Ginger shook her head. “I shouldn’t have broken the rules. It was supposed to be just sex. Just fun. I clearly can’t handle that.”

“Only because it was Carter,” Roni soothed. “You’ve always wanted that man.”

“Well, I got him. For a few days, anyway.”

“Call him,” Andie urged. This wasn’t the first time she’d suggested it. “Tell him how you feel.”

“It’s not just about how I feel. He isn’t ready for anything more. And I don’t know if he ever will be. I won’t settle for less.” She pulled out of her friends’ grasp and opened the doors wide. The sound of the waves filled the room. Then she imagined the keys of Carter’s laptop clicking one last time.

She closed her eyes and listened.

Then she sucked in a breath, blew it out, and accepted reality.

“I’m moving on,” she told them. “A new chapter in my life. Starting today. We don’t talk about Carter again.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
IVE

T
hre
e days later, Ginger stood beside her mother on a bright October afternoon, Spanish moss swaying above them, and all of Pam and Clint’s friends and loved ones looking on. The minister stated the vows for the couple to recite, and Ginger watched on with pride and love.

There wasn’t a single place in the world she would rather be at that moment.

Her mother was beautiful. And Clint was exactly what she needed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Clint turned to his bride, and Ginger witnessed the most beautiful sight. The man was completely over the moon for her mom. Love and tenderness burned from the depths of his eyes, and Ginger knew that her mother would forever be taken care of.

Clint cupped Pam’s face in his hands, and as he touched his lips to hers, a warm breeze passed through the trees. It slid a comforting touch over Ginger, and she lifted her eyes to the sky. Her father had just blessed this marriage.

The gathered crowd cheered, and Ginger’s mother reached for Ginger’s hand. They hugged, and danged if tears didn’t threaten to ruin Ginger’s mascara.

“Don’t cry yet,” her mother whispered. “We haven’t taken the pictures.”

“Leave the girl alone, Pam. Makeup can be fixed.” Clint winked at Ginger, then he pulled her in for a tight squeeze. “You’re beautiful. I love the changes to your dress.”

She smiled. She’d convinced her mother that the gown needed a few alterations, and after having all ruffles removed, she’d chopped off the bottom two feet of fluff and separated the dress into two pieces. Her mother might like the girly stuff, but at the sight of Ginger in the more pared-down, formfitting dress, she’d admitted that this was much better.
This
fit Ginger.

Once finished with the official photographs, Ginger did a quick outfit change and headed into the rec room where soft lights glowed and music was pumping. Her mom and Clint had decided against a formal dinner, instead opting for a more casual atmosphere, so some people were eating finger foods, some dancing, and some simply checking others out.

Like Chester Brownbomb and Mrs. Rylander. Apparently calling the cops on the man once hadn’t been enough, as he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman all night.

Of course, Mrs. R. seemingly had no clue. She’d decked herself out in a flower-print dress that was a little too large and had probably been in style fifty years ago, had a hot-pink bow stuck in her hair, and had made herself Kayla’s shadow for the evening. Chester was then shadowing Mrs. R., and Vanilla Bean was giving them both the evil eye.

There was nothing like hanging out at the senior center.

Two hours, three beers, and pretty much no food later, Ginger was ready to go home. She’d danced with Clint, Clint’s brothers, Clint’s nephews, several local men she already knew, Chester Brownbomb, and at least six other men she’d met tonight.

She’d tried, really she had. Fun was happening all around her, and to anyone watching, she probably looked to be swept up by it, as well. But she couldn’t shake Carter from her mind. She wasn’t even supposed to be thinking about him, yet she sure would love it if he were there with her right now. She wanted to call him. She needed to know that he was okay.

“Dance with me?”

She turned slowly, Carter on the brain and a frown on her face, to find Patrick, the real-estate agent slash flute maker, smiling at her side. She’d seen him at the wedding earlier, but hadn’t caught sight of him on the dance floor in a while.

“Hi, Patrick,” she greeted warmly, doing her best to shove Carter from her mind. However, she did nothing to hide the exhaustion in her voice. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good.” He eyed her carefully. “Are you okay?”

“Just taking a breather.”

“So no dance for me then?” he teased. He had the cutest eyes. Blue, but there was a maturity in them that said he wasn’t all play. And she remembered thinking at dinner that first night that he looked a little like Carter.

He still did.

“I saved one for you,” she told him. She put her hand in his.

And she did not let herself cry at the fact that she’d rather be dancing with a different man.

A new song began from the DJ, a slow one, and Patrick gave a gallant little bow before sweeping her into his arms. His moves made her laugh.

“Anyone tell you that you’re the hottest thing in the room tonight?” he asked as he twirled her around the parquet dance floor.

Ginger took a moment before answering, peeking around at the other women in obvious fashion, taking in each of their gray or white heads. Then she reset her gaze on Patrick’s. “Given that ninety percent of tonight’s population is over the age of sixty, I’m not exactly sure that’s a compliment.”

He chuckled. “Total compliment. Anyone who shows up at her mother’s reception in jeans . . .” He flicked a glance over her and nodded decisively.
“Hot.”

“The jeans
have
attracted attention tonight,” she confessed. She’d swapped them for the skirt. “More than I expected.”

“Well, I have to admit, I was surprised. After the look your mother gave you on our first date when you showed up in jeans, I wouldn’t have expected to see it again.”

Ginger groaned. “You saw that, did you?”

“I saw that. The question I had was, did she think you weren’t dressed up enough for
me,
or for the restaurant?”

“Probably both, but her focus was on you that night.”

He gripped her hand tighter. “Then let me set the record straight. She was wrong.”

Ginger dipped her head with a smile. “I appreciate that. And let me go on record to apologize for our second date. I’ve learned a few things since then. I was trying too hard.” She released his hand and brushed her fingers in the air in front of her. “
This
is me. Not the woman who got into your car that night.”

“This is a much better you.”

“Thank you.”

He retook her hand.

“I might even occasionally smell like fish,” she added with a mutter, which only made him laugh.

They danced through the rest of the song, laughing and talking all the while, and when the song ended, he looked down at her before letting her go. His voice turned serious. “Would this ‘you’ be what a man would get if he were to ask you out again?”

Her shoulders drooped. A month ago, and those words would have made her night.

But she wasn’t ready yet.

“I’m kind of,” she began, having to glance down before finishing. Her breath came out ragged as she pushed out, “
Not
over someone. Yet.”

She bit her lip. She was
supposed
to be over him by now.

“I get it,” Patrick said. He squeezed her hand in understanding. “But maybe I could try again next month?”

Gratitude ballooned in her, and she gave him a sad smile. She wanted to hug him for both the understanding and the willingness to wait. “No promises, but yes. Please try again next month.”

“You can count on it.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, then he released her and stepped back. “Be good to yourself, Ginger.”

“That I can promise. It’s my number-one priority these days.”

Patrick left her where she stood, and suddenly Roni and Andie were at her sides.

“You okay?” Roni asked.

Ginger shook her head.

And the next thing she knew, her friends had helped her into her car, and driven her home. Which she greatly appreciated. She was done for the night.

She just wanted to be alone. With a good book, if she couldn’t have the real thing.