Something to Believe In (12 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

C
ELLY
WIPED
AT
THE
SWEAT
sliding down
her temple and resumed chopping at the overgrown flower garden that had gone to
pot since she’d become involved with the Bells.

“Stubborn lot,” she groused under her breath as she pulled at
the invading tropical plants that were choking out her orchids. “Jus’ doin’ as
dey please, no matter what de consequence.” She leaned back and surveyed her
progress, frowning unhappily when she realized the job was much bigger than she
imagined it would be when she started. It’d seemed a good idea at the time when
she’d cast a sour look across her yard and found the overgrowth to be the most
offensive. Heath had come and fixed her leaking toilet and a host of other
annoyances that she hadn’t realized were such a problem, but the truth was,
she’d had no reason to really care about this place when she was with the Bells.
That ridiculous, messed-up bunch of whackadoodles had become...her family.

And now they had tossed her out like day-old bread.

Well, not everyone. Just Lora.

“Dat girl needs a swift kick in her behind,” she said,
struggling to her feet after kneeling for too long on the hard ground. She
thought of Lilah and immediately worry crossed her mind. Was she being looked
after? Lilah certainly wasn’t a child but she had a childlike sweetness that
called to Celly’s heart, reminded her of her own daughter she’d lost so long
ago.

Celly blinked back the sudden sting of tears as the memory of
her daughter, Hattie, sprang to mind. She’d been a quiet girl with private
demons that Celly hadn’t been aware of until it’d been too late. Hattie with her
dark hair and eyes hadn’t been a beauty like Lilah, but their souls felt the
same. Celly had recognized the sadness hiding behind Lilah’s smile from the
moment they’d met. The painful shock had sent a zing straight to Celly’s heart
and she’d almost walked away but she just couldn’t, not when it’d been obvious
to Celly that Lilah had been hurting inside and everyone else was too blind to
see.

As if conjured by her thoughts, Lilah drove up and Celly could
see through the hazy windshield that her face was splotched with tears.

“What’s wrong, chile?” Celly asked, immediately ready to slay
dragons for the girl. “Tell Celly what troubles yah.”

Lilah went into Celly’s arms without hesitation and sobbed on
her shoulder. Celly clucked and cooed, comforting her until she could form
words.

“It’s stupid,” Lilah admitted, pulling away and wiping at her
running nose and eyes. “I shouldn’t care. I knew it was temporary and he was
going to leave anyway but it hurts to know that he’s such a jerk. I mean, he’s a
total D-bag.”

“What is D-bag?” Celly asked, confused. “Is he
clung?
”

Lilah shook her head. “No, he doesn’t do drugs—that I know
of—but he’s a player and he’s a politician’s son and Lindy said he’s bad news
and I know she wouldn’t lie to me. So, I told him I didn’t want to see him
anymore and he left the resort this afternoon and it kills me that he didn’t
even try to say goodbye. I mean, I know I told him to leave me alone but he
should’ve tried a little harder to see me before he left. Right?”

Lilah looked to Celly for validation and Celly chuckled. “What
we need is fresh papaya. Settles de nerves and calms de tummy.”

Lilah’s hand went to her stomach just as it gurgled. Celly knew
Lilah struggled with a nervous stomach and whenever she was upset, it would send
her racing to the bathroom. Lilah nodded and followed Celly into the house.

“Yah like dis boy dat much?” Celly surmised as she cut the
papaya open and scooped out the seeds.

“Yes,” Lilah confessed miserably. “I know all the reasons why I
shouldn’t but I couldn’t seem to stay away from him. There was just something
about him that I liked.”

“Such as?” Celly asked, handing her the papaya slices.

“He made me laugh,” Lilah answered with a sad smile before
biting into a slice. “He made me feel normal. Like I was just like any other
girl he might’ve met while on vacation.”

Celly frowned. “What makes yah tink yah not?”

“Celly...I’m not normal. You know that.”

“I know no such ting,” Celly said stubbornly. “Yah seem normal
to me.”

“You’re being kind.”

Celly barked a short laugh. “Yah know I’m not. I call what I
see. Yah had some trouble a little while ago, but yah changed. It’s all in de
past now, time to move on. Stop dwelling, chile,” she admonished gently.

Lilah nodded but there remained a hopeless blanket of misery
draped around her small shoulders that Celly knew would take time to shrug off.
In the meantime, all anyone could do was be there for her. “Yah know...if he is
as good as yah say he is, he will not leave yah. If he doesn’t come back—” Celly
shrugged “—den he is not de man yah tink he is and it’s a blessing he be
gone.”

Lilah drew a deep, halting breath and her eyes sparked with
fresh tears, but she nodded again and Celly knew Lilah heard the wisdom even if
she didn’t want to. Celly handed her a tissue and Lilah wiped her nose and eyes
like a good girl. Celly smiled until Lilah asked, “When are you coming back to
Larimar?”

Celly pursed her lips. “Yah know I’m not.”

“I know no such thing,” Lilah retorted, some of her spirit
returning. “We need you and this spat between you and Lora has gone on long
enough. I’m tired of not seeing you around. We all miss you. Even Lora but you
know she’d rather chew off her own foot than admit it.”

“How is Jack?” Celly dared to ask, though she probably didn’t
want to know. The old man didn’t do well with change. She supposed her leaving
had thrown him for a loop and she felt right bad about that but she wasn’t one
to stay where she wasn’t wanted.

“Pops needs you more than ever. He’s...” Lilah sighed
unhappily. “Becoming harder to keep track of. He wanders and we have to keep him
occupied at all times. Lora is running out of ideas to keep him corralled. I’m
afraid we might have to put him in a home.”

“Jack would not like that,” Celly said ominously. “A cage is no
place for a mon.”

“I know that, Celly, but we don’t have a choice. What if he
wanders off and gets hurt or worse? We have to do what’s best for his welfare. I
don’t know... It’s a mess. My problems are certainly small compared to what
Larimar is going through.”

Lilah rubbed at her eyes and surprised Celly with a yawn. Lilah
laughed derisively and shook her head as she said, “It used to be that I had
insomnia but now I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I wish there was a happy
medium.”

Celly eyed her speculatively but said nothing. It could be the
stress of everything. Or it could be... Well, no it couldn’t be that. Celly knew
Lilah was a smart girl. No sense in worrying over maybes and what-ifs. Celly
patted Lilah’s knee. “Yah need rest. Can’t save de world if yah can’t keep yah
peeps open. Everyting will work out. It always does.”

Lilah nodded but didn’t look convinced. Celly could see the
longing in Lilah’s eyes for her to come back to Larimar but Celly needed to
think about things for a while before walking back through those doors. Lora had
the disposition of a harridan and Celly wasn’t of a mind to dance to her
tune.

But Celly knew that was only half the problem.

Celly had a soft spot for Jack—which was the most ridiculous of
situations given the fact that the old man was still in love and having regular
conversations with his dead wife.

There was no future for her with Jack Bell.

But her heart was tied up in an awful tangle with that family.
Lord, it’d hurt to walk away but she wasn’t going to spend half her time
defending herself against a family member who’d rather see her backside than
accept her.

But honest to God’s truth, her heart cried every night,
battering at her poor stubborn dignity for refusing every plea that came from
every person except the one it needed to come from.

Damn yah, Lora Bell. Yah harder than
petrified stone and just as unyielding.

* * *

J
ACK
RUBBED
AT
HIS
EYES
and followed his wife out onto
the patio. The shimmer of her image confused him and spiked a shaft of fear into
his heart. He didn’t understand why she was there and then gone. As if his mind
was playing tricks on him. Everything seemed out of whack but he couldn’t put
his finger on exactly what was missing or wrong. The knowledge that slipped in
and out of his grasp heightened his irritation and general grouchiness but at
the core, he was scared.

A part of him knew that he was slowly losing it.

Some days were worse than others.

It seemed his Lana came to him on the worst days. Today must
have been a bad day, because Lana was there smiling at him, gesturing for him to
follow her.

If this was losing it, he didn’t mind. She was always so
lovely. Prettiest girl he’d ever seen and in all the years they’d spent together
that’d never changed.

“I’m an old lady,” she’d announced with an unhappy sigh as
she’d finger combed her fine gray hair from her temple one morning. “When’d that
happen?”

“You’re not old,” he’d said, countering with, “You’re simply
vintage.”

“Ugh. I sound like a car,” she’d responded, but he’d coaxed a
smile out of her. He’d always been able to do that. Oftentimes it’d been his
saving grace, his ability to make her laugh. “I used to be beautiful,” she said
wistfully.

“And you still are,” he replied indignantly. “As if I’d squire
around an ugly lady on my arm. I have a reputation to protect you know.”

She laughed, the sound full of light and love. “Jack Bell,
you’re such a joker. The only reputation you have is that you’re an excellent
judge of character but a terrible birdhouse maker.” Her statement caused him to
double take in surprise but she soothed his wounded ego by wrapping her arms
around his middle and holding him tight. He rested his cheek on her crown and
she smiled against his chest. “Well, I guess you’re stuck with me even if I’m
old and gray.”

“I guess so. But I want to take a second look at the warranty.
I think I was suckered by the fine print.”

She gasped in mock outrage and swatted him on the arm. “Just
for that, no broiled pineapple for you.”

“Aww, I take it back,” he said, smiling to add with total
sincerity, “You’re a classic, Lana. No need for a warranty. You were built to
last.”

The voices from that memory faded until they were a distant
echo and Jack found himself alone, standing on a section of beach he didn’t
recognize. He turned and gazed down the long expanse of white sand and realized
he didn’t recognize anything. His lip began to tremble and he fought tears of
frustration. He wiped at his brow, not quite sure where to go. Then, a flash of
sunlight caught his eye and there was Lana, shimmering in the humid heat,
smiling. Only this time, she was beckoning for him to join her in the water.

A smile cracked his face. His Lana had always been part fish.
He shucked his flip-flops and followed his wife into the warm, tepid Caribbean
waters.

“Wait up!” he called out to Lana who was already making clean,
swift strokes away from shore. She’d always been a better swimmer than him and
eager to show off her skills. He struck out with more vigor. He’d show her that
he could still keep up with his mermaid woman. Just wait and see. “I’m coming
after you. This time, I
will
catch you!”

Light laughter floated on the breeze and Lana disappeared but
Jack knew she was there. He just had to catch up.

CHAPTER TWENTY

J
USTIN
LANDED
IN
N
EW
Y
ORK
with the disposition of a man caught by the IRS cheating on his taxes: angry,
scared, frustrated and defensive.

So when his father was in the Town Car sent to the airport to
pick him up, he wasn’t in the mood to chitchat.

“I must say, I’m surprised you came home early. I thought you’d
wring every last minute out of your vacation. Eager to start your new career,
eh?” Vernon Cales seemed pleased. “Did you enjoy St. John?”

Justin sent a cold look to his father. “It was adequate for a
last meal.”

His father’s easygoing pleasantry chilled in the face of
Justin’s open disdain. “I see your attitude hasn’t improved. I’d hoped you
would’ve returned with a renewed sense of purpose. You disappoint me.”

“Then we’re even. You disappointed me a long time ago.”

His father stiffened. “Oh? And how is that? By providing you
with a top-notch education for you to piss all over? For providing you with a
privileged lifestyle so that you could be ultimately useless? Tell me, how did I
disappoint you?”

“By being a shitty father,” Justin answered without pulling
punches. “Kids need more than someone who signs the checks. You know, I met
someone over in St. John and I saw how
her
family
operates. They don’t have as much money but they are tight and they openly love
each other. It’s not about the privilege or the things that you can buy. It’s
about the people,
Dad,
” he said, sneering, too hurt
inside to censor himself. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Are you going to start sniveling because you didn’t get enough
hugs as a child? Grow up. There is no place in politics for someone so
soft.”

“I never wanted to be in politics,” Justin muttered.

“You have the choice. If you choose not to follow the path I’ve
outlined for you, you simply have to accept that I will no longer fund your
lifestyle. No one is forcing you to do anything. But it’s easier for you to
blame me for coercing you rather than accept the fact that you aren’t willing to
fend for yourself. You do love your lifestyle, don’t you, son?”

Justin looked away, his face hot. Could he give it all up? The
idea scared him more than he wanted to admit. But he hated that his father knew
his weakness and exploited it. “I still have a week available within my
vacation. I don’t want to discuss this on my time. I will schedule a meeting
with you on Monday to discuss my new career path. Until then, stay the hell out
of my life.”

“Very well.” Vernon Cales drew himself up. “One week. Monday I
expect to see a young man ready to work, not this petulant child who still
blames his problems on everyone else.”

Justin couldn’t listen to this sanctimonious bullshit a moment
longer. He’d rather walk. “Pull over,” he instructed the driver.

“What are you doing?” his father asked, irritated.

“Getting away from you.”

He didn’t even grab his luggage. They would deliver it to his
apartment. He didn’t watch as the Town Car pulled away; he simply walked into
the throng of people and hoped to disappear.

* * *

L
ORA
’
S
SENSE
THAT
SOMETHING
was wrong intensified when
she couldn’t find Pops. Lilah was working the front desk and hadn’t seen him but
it was her hope that Heath was keeping Pops occupied in the shop with him.

But when she entered the shop and found Heath alone, bent over
a glass fusion project, her hope plummeted.

“I can’t find Pops,” Lora said without preamble, the flutter of
fear becoming a familiar sensation as Pops’s mental acuity had continued to
deteriorate. “He’s not in Larimar.”

Immediately abandoning his piece, Heath dropped the glass into
the bucket without regard. She winced knowing the piece was ruined and he’d have
to start over but she didn’t have time to worry about that right now. “Last I
saw him he was going to have a snack and then take a nap. Are you sure he’s not
puttering around in the private section?”

“I looked three times. He’s not there,” Lora said, her voice
rising with panic. “He could be anywhere by this point.”

“Let’s try and stay calm,” he said, grabbing her by the
shoulders and holding her gaze with his own. “He’s probably fine. We just need
to use a process of elimination to find him. There are only so many places he
could be and he hasn’t had time to jump the ferry to St. Thomas so he is here on
this island. I’ll call Billy and tell him to keep an eye out for him near the
docks.”

Lora nodded and wiped at the tears oozing from her eyes. If
anything happened to Pops she’d never forgive herself. She knew it was probably
time to hire a caregiver at the very least or at the worst, put him in a managed
care facility but she’d been stubbornly holding off, citing the expense but that
wasn’t really the reason. If she did any of those things it would only make the
situation that much more real. Their Pops wasn’t coming back to them, no matter
what they did. And that killed her deep inside. God, how it hurt. But it was
nothing compared to the guilt that would crush her if her stubbornness ended up
hurting Pops.

Heath returned a moment later, his expression determined. “I’m
calling Celly. She knows of all the little places Pops likes to wander off
to.”

Lora opened her mouth to refuse that idea but a voice sounding
a lot like Grams chastised her soundly, saying,
Stop being
such a donkey, little Bell. This is bigger than your ego and you know
it.

Lora swallowed her comment and nodded jerkily to Heath.
“Hopefully, she can help” was all she managed to say before her throat closed.
If Celly had been here, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. They’d never had so
many problems with Pops before Celly had left. Perhaps Pops hadn’t gotten worse,
it was just that Celly had always managed to make it seem not so bad because she
handled Pops so well.

Damn it. What a fool she’d been. Hot, shameful tears rolled
down her face as she realized how her pride had, once again, bitten her in the
ass. She wiped at her eyes and made a promise. If they managed to circumvent
disaster with Pops, she’d make things right with Celly.

“I promise, Grams,” she murmured, hoping her grandmother could
hear her and approved. “I promise.”

* * *

L
ILAH
RAN
OUT
TO
THE
PATIO
and scanned the private beach. Nothing but gorgeous blue skies and clear waters
met her gaze. She searched her memory for anything that might provide a clue as
to where Pops might’ve gone and at first, she came up with nothing. Frustrated,
she thought harder, determined to find something—anything—that might help.

“Grams...where is he?” she whispered, closing her eyes, praying
for a miracle. She opened her eyes and something caught her eye. No...it
couldn’t be... She stared harder, the air evaporating from her lungs. She fished
her cell phone from her pocket and called Billy.

“Billy, I need a huge favor, can you bring your boat around to
our private beach? I think I see Pops and he’s way out there, too far for me to
swim but I can see him and he’s heading for Dead Man’s Breach.”

“Dat plenty far from de Larimar beach,” Billy said, worried.
“Yah sure?”

“I can see him. Quickly, Billy, I’m afraid he’s going to
drown!”

“I’ll be there in two minutes,” he promised, and then he was
gone. Lilah spun on her heel and ran back into the resort, yelling as she went.
“I’ve found him! He’s swimming to Dead Man’s Breach!”

“Dead Man’s Breach?” Lora repeated with horror. “That’s
impossible for a man his age! He’s going to drown!”

“I have Billy going to get him. Do you think he’ll remember
Billy? What if he refuses the help? Oh, damn, maybe we should call the
authorities and have search and rescue get him instead.”

“There’s no time.” Heath looked just as fearful. “We’ll just
have to hope and pray that he remembers Billy or just plain wants to get out of
the water.”

“Oh, God, this is a nightmare,” Lora said, wringing her hands
in an uncharacteristic move. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

That made two of them, Lilah thought as her mouth watered in a
warning sign. She wiped the sweat suddenly beading her brow as she swallowed
hard. Oh, dear...

“Are you all right?” Heath asked, noticing her distress. “You
don’t look very good.”

“It’s my nerves, I think,” Lilah answered, her hands shaking as
she wiped away the sweat. “I feel...nauseous.”

“Go eat some crackers or something. We’ll keep an eye out for
Pops and Billy,” Lora assured her, gesturing for her to go. “We don’t need you
fainting or passing out because you haven’t eaten or something like that.”

“It’s probably just my medication disagreeing with me,” she
said faintly, feeling sicker by the minute but she was determined to stick it
out. There was no way she was leaving until she knew Pops was okay.

It seemed the longest two minutes of their lives but soon, they
saw Billy’s charter boat,
Jumbie Moon,
sailing past
their private beach. Heath’s phone buzzed and it was Billy giving them the
thumbs-up.

“Thank God,” he said, hanging up. “Billy has Pops and he’s
okay. Exhausted but okay. Seems he did remember Billy—another blessing—and was
happy to see a familiar face. I’ll go pick him up at the dock.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lora said quickly, and they hurried out the
door. Lilah smiled with relief but her stomach hadn’t yet received the news that
everything was in the clear. She wrapped her arms around her middle and groaned.
Her stomach had always been sensitive to her nerves but this was going to
another level. Oh, no, she was definitely not feeling better. Not even the
thought of fresh papaya made her feel better.

In fact, she wasn’t sure she was going to make it to the
bathroom. A bubble of ickiness propelled her into action and she ran to the
bathroom to bury her head in the toilet.

Somewhere between bouts of ralphing her guts out and groaning
she realized something that made everything so much worse than it already
was.

Her period was officially two weeks late.

And she was barfing her guts out.

Oh. Shit.