Stranger on the Shore (Mirabelle Harbor, Book 4) (24 page)

With Ellen and her husband gone, his sister and her two other friends began to pack up the party, so as to give Marianna and her daughter some privacy.

Joy pulled him aside while Marianna was trying to get a few other details out of Kathryn and this Sid character. Marianna looked even more shaken now than when Ellen had surprised them after their beach drumming evening, and that was saying something.

“Abby, Lorelei, and I need to head back to the Circle,” Joy told him. “But I think you should stay here for a little longer. Marianna needs you.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m the one she needs right now. She’s juggling a lot of family stuff. Old baggage. New issues. Lots of change in her life. Many unresolved things. She probably needs space and an opportunity to work through future plans with her daughter more than she needs time with me.”

Joy shook her head. “You’re selling yourself short and underestimating her, too, Gil. Not sure what you did to piss off her sister, Ellen.” She raised a brow at him. “But Marianna’s eyes play Mozart when they look at you, which is something new. She’s always liked you, but I can tell that things have gotten more intense between you two recently.” Joy studied his face with a laser-beam gaze that was almost accusatory. “If you back away from her now, you’ll hurt her.”

He considered this. Of course he didn’t want to hurt Marianna. He was crazy about her. But he wasn’t the optimist his sister was either. Joy probably still believed in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. Hell, she probably
was
the Easter Bunny in her free time. Or, maybe, just Cupid’s charming young assistant. In any case, much as he adored her, Joy danced around in wistful, wonderful fantasy land, and he didn’t intend to do the same.

“I’ll talk with her,” he said to his sister. “I’ll ask Marianna what she needs.”

Joy responded by grimacing at him in that girly way, which indicated that she thought he was a clueless male. Gil didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

After she, Lorelei, and Abby reassured Marianna not to worry about the bracelets for a few days—they’d make up for lost time—the three of them dashed out of the bungalow, and Gil was left with the woman he was falling for, her sullen daughter, and some college dude, who looked like he’d been plucked from the pages of
Super Slacker
magazine.

He tried to decide what the best course of action would be. Stay and help Marianna through any conversational awkwardness with the two kids? Or leave for a while, perhaps inviting the boyfriend/fiancé with him for an hour to give Marianna a chance to have a one-on-one talk with her daughter.

Turned out, Marianna had a completely different plan in mind.

She thrust her car keys and her debit card at Kathryn, whose eyes widened in surprise, and then said, “Why don’t you and Sid go to the Publix in town and pick up some groceries?” She gave them the directions quickly and then nodded at Sid. “I’m not sure if you have any food allergies or sensitivities, but I’d like to make sure we have some things on hand that you’d like to eat, and I know we don’t have a lot in the fridge right now, aside from leftovers that my friends brought this afternoon.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Gregory,” the boyfriend/fiancé said with a heartening degree of politeness. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Marianna smiled kindly at him. “Well, I’d like you and Kathryn to feel at home while you’re here.”

Her daughter inclined her head appreciatively, but there was a glint of wariness in the teen’s expression. Like she suspected this was still part of the calm civility before the all-hell-broke-loose storm ahead. From the shuttered, careful look on Marianna’s face, Kathryn had probably called it right.

“Okay. We’ll be back soon, Mom,” Kathryn said, as she and Sid edged away from them and toward the door.

“Take your time,” Marianna replied, locking the bungalow’s front door behind them and, then, sinking to the floor in an exhausted heap.

“Hey,” Gil whispered, kneeling down next to her and slowly stroking her hair. “I know you had a rough night and a crazy day today. Are you doing all right?”

She nodded, shook her head, and then shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She covered her face with her palms and then collapsed her upper body onto her bent knees.

He continued stroking her, like a little kid who’d fallen off a bike or something. “What can I do for you right now? Do you need a shoulder rub? A stiff drink? Time alone to process all of this? You just tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

She laughed and raised her head just enough to meet his gaze. “I kicked them out because I wanted to be with only you for a little while, Gil. Even if it’s just for a half hour. I’m getting the feeling that my family members are conspiring to annihilate any possible shred of a social life I may have here in Sarasota. And, well... I can’t stop thinking about making love with you.” She paused and swallowed. “Can we do it again?”

“What—you mean here? Now?” Gil blurted. “They could walk back in at any minute.”

“No. Kathryn’s a picky shopper and, besides, this door is locked and I didn’t give them the key to the bungalow. They’ll need to knock. Still—” She glanced between the doorknob and him. “We’d better be quick.”

“Marianna, you’ve had a lot of upheaval today. Are you sure you don’t just need a friend right now? Someone to talk to about—”

She pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around him. “Gil, I need
you
.”

And something in his heart broke open at those words. Maybe this was some bizarre reverse psychology game his mind was playing on him. Maybe he was just being contrary and wanting what he damn well knew he couldn’t have. But against all logic, all experience, and all self-preservation, he could see himself making a commitment to a woman for the first time in his life. Specifically, with
this
woman.

Nothing had changed about their situation—except for him and what he’d begun to hope for, which made it all the more futile—but he wasn’t going to fight it. If she wanted, no...
needed
him for now, and if she’d let him rub and kiss away the dull brown wash that was covering her and bring back some of her brightness, he sure as hell wouldn’t turn her away.

“I’m all yours, Mariana.” He shot a glance around the room. “Floral sofa?” he suggested.

She stood and took his hand in hers. “My bedroom. And Gil?”

“Yes?”

“Lose the shirt.”

Relativity

M
y daughter and Sid returned to the bungalow only about five minutes after Gil slipped out. I’d somehow managed to get dressed and was in the process of making a full pot of coffee (I figured we’d be up talking for a while), when they knocked on the front door, seven bags of groceries between them.

As we all pitched in to put away the perishables, I studied Kathryn’s significant other and tried to take his measure. I had—not surprisingly—a lot of questions about the guy. But not all of those could be answered with words.

What kind of a young man was he?

What did he see in my daughter... and love about her?

Would he be faithful? Kind? Supportive? Not just now, but in the decades ahead?

Would he be a good father someday, if they decided to have kids—

Oh, my God.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” I blurted to Kathryn before I could stop myself. “That isn’t why you two got engaged... ”

But my daughter was looking at me with a horrified and embarrassed expression, and Sid was shaking his head as vigorously as he could. He was the one who spoke first.

“Uh, no, Mrs. Gregory. I asked Kathryn to marry me because I love her. We’ve never, um, slept together.”

I blinked at him—grateful, relieved and, admittedly, stunned. “Really?”

Kathryn looked mortified. “Yes, Mom. Really. Now can we drop this?”

“Well, okay, in a sec... I just—why the rush to get married then? I mean—” I was stumbling over words but I had to ask. “Please don’t be offended by this, Sid,” I said, turning toward him. “But I just met you less than two hours ago. I don’t know a whole lot about your background or your educational plans or your life goals, but I remember Kathryn telling me that you were still in school, right?”

“I’m two years ahead of her,” Sid said calmly, showing none of the agitation my daughter was displaying or I was feeling. “I’ll be graduating with my business administration degree this coming May.”

“That’s great.” And I meant it. He didn’t entirely sell himself as a business guy—what with the faded t-shirt and smudged sneakers and droopy jeans—but I was reasonably impressed with his collegiate perseverance and his good manners. Still, these qualities hardly guaranteed a job upon graduation, explained how the two of them intended to support themselves, or even offered an excuse as to why getting married in the near future was desirable. So, I added, “When were you planning the wedding?”

“Right after I graduate,” he said.

Too soon, although at least it wasn’t next week or anything.

“But Kathryn needs to finish her degree as well, and it’s still early days for her. Unless I missed something—” I glanced at my daughter. “I don’t think you’ve even declared a major yet, have you, Kathryn?”

She shot me a dagger look, but she also shook her head.

“With jobs to look for and classes to finish, there are still quite a few things in each of your lives that will need to be figured out. I really think you should wait until the dust settles after college for both of you before getting married. Although—” I tried hard to think of something that was honest yet, simultaneously, conciliatory to add. “It’s wonderful to see how strong your commitment is to each other.”

Sid, who dressed like the poster child for the skateboard generation, shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled at me with a vague sense of pity. “It is,” he said, and I knew they would, of course, do whatever the hell they wanted, no matter what I advised.

My daughter just continued to glower at me.

“Well, um, I’m going to get some fresh linens so we can make up the bed in the second bedroom, as well as the sofa bed,” I said with fake cheerfulness. “Kathryn, could you please help me with that?”

While I had no illusions that she was pleased with me, having not reacted to her engagement announcement with shouts of delight and a show of confetti, I’d thought our conversation had remained rather civil, and that it’d gone fairly well under the circumstances. The look on Kathryn’s face, however, told me otherwise.

She followed me in silence into the bedroom where, until recently, her aunt had stayed. Ellen and I had stripped the bed sheets, but her presence still hung in the room as a reminder.

I closed the door behind us, hoping for a bit more privacy for my daughter and me, but it was a moot point since she was actively avoiding speaking to me.

Finally, I exhaled slowly and said, “Look, sweetie, Sid seems like a very nice boy, but you’re barely nineteen. You haven’t had many relationships yet. Trust me, you don’t want to get married this early in your life. Even taking out the possibility of motherhood while you’re still in college, it’s hard to be a wife and go to school at the same time. Not that it can’t be done, but I know from personal experience that it isn’t easy, and why complicate things for yourself? If he really loves you, he’ll wait another couple of years for you to finish school, too. He won’t pressure you into—”

“He’s not pressuring me,” she snapped. “Sid loves me, and he
promised
me he’ll stay with me forever. He won’t leave like Dad did. Sid won’t go back on his word.” She crossed her arms. So indignant. So young.

“Kathryn, honey, promises—even when they’re made sincerely—can sometimes be broken. What you or Sid think you want right now might not be—”

“I’m not
you!
” she shouted. “This is my life, okay? And just because you failed at your marriage and you made a gazillion mistakes, it doesn’t mean I will. So stop judging me and telling me what I should be thinking. Stop trying to control everything I do. You can mess up your own relationships as much as you want, but stay out of
mine
.”

She dropped the pillow case she’d been holding, pushed open the door, and marched through the bungalow, clomping loudly with every step. “I’m going for a walk on the beach,” she called out, slamming the front door.

I wasn’t sure if this angry announcement was for my sake or as some kind of invitation for Sid.

He called out, “Hang on! I’m coming with you,” and I heard his feet sprinting after her.

Kathryn didn’t reply to him, but when I looked out the front window, I saw that he’d caught up and was keeping pace with her as she made her infuriated beeline to the water.

I sighed and finished making the bed alone.

~*~

T
he next morning, I awoke to find my daughter talking on her cell phone to my sister.

Kathryn was in the kitchen, hunched over a bowl of breakfast cereal, while Sid had folded up the sofa bed I’d fixed up for him last night and was watching
The Today Show
. He waved pleasantly at me from across the room. My daughter, by contrast, merely glanced indifferently in my direction and then continued her conversation with her aunt, who’d always been “the fun one.”

“Oh, c’mon, Aunt Ellen,” she said with a derisive laugh. “Now you’re starting to sound like my mother.”

Good heavens, kid. Anything but that, eh?

There was a pause. Then Kathryn rolled her eyes and said into the phone, “I know, I know... Um, sure. I guess that makes sense.” Another pause, longer this time. I was just about to grab a granola bar and return to the dark cave of my bedroom when she said, “Yeah, she’s finally up.” She thrust her phone at me. “Your sister wants to talk with you.”

I swallowed. “Thank you, Kathryn.” She shrugged and wandered into the living room to be with Sid. To Ellen, I said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, yourself,” she replied cheerily. Ah, that was a good sign. “So, I’ve been chatting with your daughter for the past half hour and thinking about the three of you over there. And I have an idea.”