Unraveled Page 3

  “It is so nice to see you again, Granny. I love blue on you. It matches your eyes.” Lauren hoped to draw her grandmother back to lucidity.

  Granny smiled and patted Lauren’s hand. “Thank you, dear. That’s a lovely handbag you have there.” She tipped her head toward Lauren’s purse.

  “Thank you. It was a gift from my fiancé,” Lauren said.

  “How thoughtful.” Granny smoothed the fabric of her skirt over her knees and bracelets jangled at her wrist. Her beautiful silver hair was carefully combed and tucked into a small bun at the nape of her neck. Granny hadn’t given up her fastidious concern for her appearance. Lauren smiled. Pop used to tease her about her fondness for cashmere sweaters.

  Two little girls with tousled blond curls chased each other into the kitchen, one squealing with delight while the other snatched at her sister’s blanket.

  “Emmy and Ava, freeze.” Mom stepped in front of them, planting her feet firmly in their path. “There’s a broken plate on the floor and I don’t want you to hurt your feet. Can you say hello to Aunt Lauren?”

  Both girls were speechless, blue eyes wide with wonder as they peeked around Mom’s legs. These curious toddlers looked nothing like the baby pictures that adorned her fridge back in Portland. If it weren’t for Facebook and Matt’s blog, she wouldn’t even recognize them. Her heart ached. She missed so much.

  Lauren offered a tentative smile. Ava inched closer and tugged on a strand of Lauren’s hair.

  “Cookie?” Emmy asked, her chubby arms outstretched toward Mom and the kitchen counter. Mom handed her a chocolate chip cookie from the cooling rack. Ava wandered over to investigate, mirroring her sister’s actions.

  “Here, let me sweep up.” Lauren went to the pantry and got the broom and dust pan. “I didn’t know the girls were here. Where’s Matthew? I thought he’d hang around to say hello.”

  “He planned to wait for you. Then Angela called. Sounds like Joshua fell and might need stitches. There’s never a dull moment in that house.” Mom loaded a plate with cookies and brought it to the table.

  Before Lauren could dump the contents of the dust pan into the garbage, Emmy had removed all of the plastic cups and plates from the bottom kitchen drawer. Lauren blew out a breath. Mischievous little things. As if on cue, Ava upended Lauren’s bag and scooped up the mascara and powder compact with great interest.

  “Oh!” Emmy gasped, her little mouth ringed with chocolate as she examined Lauren’s iPhone.

  “Um, I’ll take that.” Lauren dropped the dustpan and snatched the phone from Emmy’s grasp. “Thank you.”

  Emmy’s lower lip turned down, and she released an ear-splitting wail.

  Oh no. Lauren glanced at Mom. Now what?

  “Girls, let’s give Aunt Lauren back her things, please. I’ll help you.” Mom kneeled down next to the girls.

  Still whimpering, Emmy and Ava obeyed.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Why don’t you go get settled.” Mom looked up at Lauren and handed her a tube of lip gloss that had rolled across the floor.

  Lauren nodded in agreement. A hot shower was calling her name. She collected her re-organized bag from her nieces and headed for the loft.

  Blake stood at the bottom of the stairs, brow furrowed as he studied his phone. He glanced up as she came closer. “Mission accomplished. Two bags delivered.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for the ride.”

  Blake shrugged. “No problem.” He smiled. “It is nice to see you again, Lauren. I hope you enjoy the time with your family.”

  Lauren watched him saunter through the kitchen, admiring the view from behind as he snagged a cookie on his way out the front door. Her heart stuttered.

  All that paddling suits you.

  Good grief. Still engaged, remember? Putting those broad shoulders out of her mind, she climbed the stairs to the loft. A queen-sized sleigh bed covered with a handmade quilt in patterns of turquoise and chocolate took center stage. A once-empty niche under the window was now a built-in window seat, warm and inviting with a tufted cushion and several overstuffed pillows. Lauren smiled with delight as she sank onto the cushion, tension melting from her neck and shoulders. She was at the end of the house, tucked under the peak of the roof with an unobstructed view of the water. Out in the distance, the rich green curve of the shoreline gave way to the barrier islands that protected the small community from the harsh waters in the Gulf of Alaska.

  “Do you like the new upgrade?”

  Lauren twisted away from the window. Mom leaned against the door frame, an expectant smile brightening her features.

  “It’s amazing.” Lauren rubbed the silky tassel on one of the pillows between her fingers. “I think I could sit here for hours.”

  “I know the feeling. I hope it makes up for not being able to sleep in your old room. I’m sorry about that. After your grandfather died, it was easier to move Granny here than have to worry about her living alone. Your room was most convenient. With her memory issues it doesn’t seem wise to move her again.”

  “I don’t expect you to move Granny just for me. What’s going on with her memory? Why is she talking about Aunt Mallory?”

  Mom’s smile disappeared. Her green eyes filled with sadness. “Dr. Wheeler says it’s a classic case of dementia. Her short-term memory is poor, but her long- term memory is still quite sharp. Today’s hectic. I’m sure that adds to her confusion. And Mallory, well, that’s a story all in itself.”

  “Do tell.”

  Mom sank down on the bed. “I know we’ve never talked much about my sisters before.” She shook her head. “Our whole world changed in an instant.”

  “Mallory died in an accident, right?”

  “Snuck out with her boyfriend. They were racing snow machines, going way too fast. There was a terrible collision. Neither survived.” Mom shivered and looked away.

  Lauren cringed. “That must have been awful.”

  “Mallory was always a bit of a problem child.”

  “What do you mean?” And why haven’t we talked about this before?

  “Mallory was a young mother, pregnant by the time she was sixteen.” Mom whispered.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Goosebumps pebbled the flesh on her arms. Lauren leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief. “Where was the baby?”

  “My parents took care of her. This house wasn’t always a bed and breakfast, you know. Women delivered at home all the time. I think that’s what Granny was alluding to when she tried to rush you out of the kitchen. Mallory delivered here.”

  Lauren swallowed hard. “What happened to her? The baby?”

  Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “She was adopted.”

  Her heart lurched in her chest. Yearbook photos of teammates and childhood friends flitted through her mind. Did she grow up with her cousin and not even know it?

  “Who adopted her?”

  “A young couple who thought they couldn’t have children.” Mom’s voice broke on the last word. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional. My parents were heartbroken. My Dad never talked about Mallory again. Today was the first time I’ve heard Granny say her name in years.”

  “Wait. What about your other sister? Jane? Does she still live in San Diego?”

  Mom nodded. “Her boyfriend was transferred there and she left with him. She was so angry that our parents wouldn’t let her keep the baby.”

  “They just left? Nobody tried to stop her? I can’t believe Pop didn’t track them down.”

  Mom wiped the tears from her cheeks. “My parents and Jane argued for days. When they weren’t yelling, Mother was crying in her bedroom. I think when Jane left they simply felt relief. I know that sounds harsh now but they desperately needed to grieve.”

  “So that’s it? Aunt Jane runs off to San Diego and never comes back?” Lauren twisted a ringlet of hair around her finger.

  Mom sighed. “She pops up from time to time.”

  “Pops up? Like visits?”

  “She sends
letters or e-mails, bragging about her latest trip to Venice. Then last week it was all about how she’d be here soon to start helping out.”

  “What makes her think you need her help?” Lauren felt a muscle in her jaw twitch. The nerve of this woman.

  “Arrogance, I suppose. Or maybe guilt because she never had a chance to say goodbye to Pop. I can’t figure her out. But I would welcome her help with Granny, especially now.”

  “Are you sure? She doesn’t sound like she’d be much help.” Lauren shook her head in disgust. Her parents had poured themselves into the bed and breakfast for more than twenty years. An estranged relative couldn’t just waltz in and take over.

  Mom smiled wanly. “I meant financial help, sweetie. Long term care for dementia patients is expensive.”

  “Mom, you can’t be serious.” A high-pitched screech interrupted their conversation. Mom stood quickly. She ran toward the sound.

  “Sounds like the twins are having a disagreement. I better go check. Thank you for coming home. We really need you.” She blew Lauren a kiss as she descended the stairs.

  Lauren fell back against the cushions on the window seat and closed her eyes, rubbing her palm across her forehead. This was more drama than she could handle, especially on the heels of an already exhausting twenty-four hours. What was that verse? The sins of the fathers will visit the sons. Or something like that. Apparently she wasn’t the only one in this family trying to make amends for her past.

  four

  Blake propped his arms on the counter and scanned the spreadsheet, probing for gaps in their budget. Inquiries for rafting and kayaking excursions flooded their inbox. The new website received dozens of daily hits, and the first three weeks of the season were booked solid. His heart swelled with gratitude. Thank you, Lord. They’d anticipated some success, given the surge in cruise ship traffic. But this—he shook his head, double-checking the numbers again—went way beyond even their most optimistic projections.

  His brother Jeremy spun around in the desk chair and crumpled a piece of paper. “We could just chuck the whole thing and buy a time share in Maui.”

  “Uh-huh.” Okay, insurance was on track but payroll—a wad of crumpled paper popped him in the temple, and he flinched. “Hey.”

  “Seriously, dude. What’s with you today? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

  Blake sighed and tried once again to discard the memory of those long auburn curls and a yellow sundress. “Sure, I heard you. You booked six reservations this morning.”

  “I said that, like, ten minutes ago. Dang, what happened at the airport?”

  “Nothing.” The incredibly hot Lauren Carter wearing some dude’s ring, that’s what.

  He’d blinked twice at baggage claim to realize she wasn’t a dream. He grabbed her elbow and she stared up at him with those bottomless green eyes. It was her, alright. Suddenly he was twenty years old again, heart-broken as he watched her Honda Prelude disappear around the bend.

  The hurt awakened, like a bear from hibernation. He’d spent almost a decade trying to get over her. He was beginning to wonder if he might need a decade more.

  A bell chimed and Tisha, their first official employee, wedged the front door open with her hiking boot then scooted in carrying a loaded cardboard coffee carrier.

  “Compliments of your baby sister next door,” she smiled, sliding the trio of grande mochas onto the counter. Megan had scored a summer job as a barista in the new coffee shop. Although she begged her brothers for a chance to paddle a kayak, their parents feared for her safety and insisted she was too young.

  Jeremy took a long sip then set his cup on the desk. “Man, she makes a good mocha.”

  Blake wrapped his fingers around the warm paper cup and tipped it to his lips. Extra strong java with a jolt of chocolate, just the way he liked it. “Not bad for a girl who’d rather be paddling,” he agreed.

  “Speaking of paddling, when’s my next run, boss?” Tisha leaned over Blake’s shoulder and the ends of her long ponytail tickled his forearm.

  Blake stiffened and clenched his jaw as she tapped her fingernails on the desk, rat a tat rat a tat. Her breath was hot on his cheek. He tried not to squirm. Ever heard of personal space?

  “Looks like one short run at 4:30, family of five wants to kayak around the bay for an hour,” Blake kept his eyes on the screen, staring at the reservation and praying Tisha made a quick exit.

  “Great! I’m all over it. Catch you later.” She grabbed her coffee and sailed back out the door.

  Jeremy chuckled. “That isn’t the only thing she’s all over.”

  Blake narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. “What are you talking about?”

  “Dude. She would be all over you in a second if you didn’t sit there like an iceberg. What’s your problem, man?”

  Blake grinned. “No problem here.” Jeremy loved to aggravate him. And he was good at it. But not this time. He shook his head. You’re way off on that whole Tisha thing, little brother. He grabbed a thick stack of brochures off the counter and reached for his keys. “I’ve got to deliver these to the ferry terminal, I guess their rack is empty already. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Jeremy dismissed him with a wave. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

  Five minutes later, Blake pulled his truck into the ferry terminal and cut the engine. He had just enough time to drop off these brochures and head over to the warehouse to make sure Tisha had everything she needed for that four-thirty run.

  A new Lexus SUV pulled into the space next to his. Blake’s heartbeat stuttered when he recognized the school superintendent, Alan Maxwell, in the driver’s seat. Although Blake checked the school district’s website faithfully since he moved back, no one had posted an opening for a head basketball coach at the high school. Well, there’s no time like the present. Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

  He scooped the brochures off the passenger seat and jumped out of the truck. Slamming the door, he mustered his most professional smile and waved to his new boss.

  “Hi, Mr. Maxwell. How’s it going?”

  In his plaid flannel button down and spotless Levi’s, Mr. Maxwell looked like he’d just stepped off the pages of LL Bean. “Afternoon, Blake. How’s business?”

  “Can’t complain. We’ve got more business than we can handle most days.”

  Mr. Maxwell hitched his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. “Good, good. Keeps you out of trouble, I guess.”

  Blake’s stomach clenched. “Trouble, sir?”

  “C’mon, son.” He clapped Blake on the shoulder. “No need to pretend with me. I’m well aware of your history. Just glad to hear you’re keeping your nose clean.”

  Blake chewed on his lower lip, his blood pounding in his ears like a freight train. “I can assure you, sir, those days are behind me.”

  “Of course they are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to buy—”

  “Wait.” Blake put up a hand to stop him. “I’d really like to be considered for Mr. Hoffman’s position, when and if he decides to retire. I know—”

  “Whoa. Slow down, there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re teaching history this fall. But coaching?” A thin smile stretched across his weathered features and he shook his head slowly, as if that would make the words more palatable. “You’re gonna have to earn my trust, son.” With one final pat on the shoulder, he turned away.

  Blake watched him go, seething inside. What was that all about?

  Lord, why did you call me back here? You know I want nothing more than to coach again. If you’ve forgotten the mistakes I’ve made, why can’t he?

  Lauren sat up, startled awake by the opening notes of Katy Perry’s “Firework.” Groggy and disoriented, she glanced around the loft. That’s right. Home. Sliding off the window seat, she reached for her bag and dug past her wallet, baggage claim stubs, and an Altoids tin.

  “C’mon, where is it?” The blue glow of her cell phone appeared and she studied the screen. Holden. H
er heart stuttered in anticipation. She needed to hear his voice. Surely he’d offer to catch the next plane out.

  She sighed, swiping her finger across the screen. “Hello?”

  “Hey, you.” His voice was husky, confident. She waited for the rush of warmth that usually accompanied that timbre. Huh. Nothing.

  “Hi.” She sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Things are kind of crazy here.”

  She hesitated. “What kind of crazy?”

  “They’re opening an investigation. One of the surgery techs says I left a sponge in this guy’s leg.”

  Lauren gasped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was. Listen, there’s—”

  Here it comes, she thought, rubbing the back of her neck. He’s bailing.

  “Look. About the other night, it wasn’t what you thought. I don’t know what Monique has told you, but I’ve only done what any other doctor in my situation would do. Does that make sense?”

  There it was. The subtle defensiveness. It had been cropping up more and more lately. Lauren swallowed hard and gathered her courage.

  “And the golf pro at the country club? What’s the story there?” She’d seen medications change hands on more than one occasion during their golf outings. This was new territory for her, challenging him. The steely silence that greeted her was a strong indication that he was as surprised as she was.

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. “This was your idea, Holden. You said we couldn’t set a date until you met my family. You’re supposed to be here. With me. Now.” She hated how her voice had risen dangerously close to a whine.

  Muffled voices in the background distracted him. A pregnant pause ensued. Was he with someone? Her scalp tingled. “Holden? Who are you talking to?”

  “Sorry. Something’s come up. I gotta go.”

  “If you’re really sorry you’ll catch the next flight.”

  “Seriously?” He muttered an obscenity under his breath. “You have no idea what I’m up against here, Lauren. I’ll call you later.”