Beach Winds (35 page)

She held the letter close to her chest and breathed a silent prayer, then opened it and removed the paper. There were few words.

Mr. and Mrs. Denman
—Edward doesn’t know and I can’t go near that house again, not with the new wife, but I did something I shouldn’t have. Now I’m sick. I have another child, your grandchild. She’s a sweet little one. Her name is Julianne. If you care at all, contact me at this address. Frances.

Did Frances ever realize that the letter hadn’t arrived in time? That her former in-laws were already gone? Or did she go to her grave believing they hadn’t cared enough to respond?

Brian cleared his throat. Frannie looked up at him.

“This is how Will knew. His sister, Penny, sent this to him.” She handed it to Brian.

He whistled
, low and soft.

She nodded.
“Now what?”

His eyes were grave.
“You have to make that choice, Fran.”

“
I already spoke to Juli earlier today. It didn’t go well.”

He frowned.
“How so?”

“
I tried to tell her, but she didn’t want to hear it. As soon as an opportunity arose, she left me sitting there and,” her voice dropped, “I gave up and left.”

Brian shrugged.
“At least you opened the conversation. It should make the follow up easier.”

She hoped so. Because now she really didn
’t have any choice. Juli must be told. This was about her life as much as Frannie’s.

When Brian left to take Megan home,
she called Ron Hamilton. “Could you find out if Penelope Warren is still alive? I believe she lives in the Louisburg area.” She read aloud the return address on the outer envelope.

“
Sure. What else can you tell me about her?”

“
She’s my uncle’s sister. About his age, I guess. Somewhere in her eighties. She’s called Penny. Maiden name was Denman.”

“
I’ll get back to you as soon as I know.”

“
Another thing. Could you get me the contact info for anyone at all who might have known, or might have information on Frances? I want to speak with them personally.”

“
It’s a short list, but I’ll see if there’s anyone else I can add to it.”

“
Thanks.”

After she disconnected, she continued standing there
, staring into nothing. This was a winding road she was following. Tortuously winding, but with amazing scenery and some happiness and grief. At least, she was no longer standing still—at least not in the physical sense. No longer waiting, but instead, moving forward.

It was a crazy, adrift kind of feeling
, but forward, definitely.

Frannie stood facing the fridge and thinking about Brian. Mrs. Blair had said
“Name’s Brian. His number is on the fridge.” Or something like that. She touched the paper with Brian’s name and number scrawled across it. Who could have known what a difference a few weeks could make, and a big part of that difference was Brian. All because of a piece of broken lattice for which she’d needed a handyman—Uncle Will’s handyman. Now hers.

She
’d left this mess of notes, cards and magnets untouched, as if disturbing them would irretrievably erase Will’s life—the life he’d build for himself here at Emerald Isle and would want to return to, intact. So, she wouldn’t remove them, but a bit of reorganization couldn’t hurt.

She lined the larger magnets up and tucked the few business cards under the edges. Then she gathered the stray notes
and secured them under the smaller magnets. It was interesting to see what Will had considered important to his life, important enough to keep front and center on the fridge.

A business card from an accountant. The Front Street Gallery. Will
’s attorney and a doctor’s office. And one from “Odd Jobs and Handyman” that listed Brian. No, not Brian Donovan. Mr. Patrick Bryan.

Who the heck was Patrick Bryan? For sure, he wasn
’t
her
Brian.

A competitor in the handyman trade? Her brain twisted and turned trying to fit it all together in a comfortable, sensible way
, but it couldn’t happen.

So, who was Brian?

The phone rang. She let it go to voicemail. When the message light lit up, she punched the key to listen.

“
Frannie? Frannie. I’ve been waiting for you to call me. I need to speak with you. I want you to know I’ve been thinking about you and about everything, and I want to help you.”

There was a long pause,
and then Laurel continued, “Call me, please.”

Frannie disconnected from voicemail, then dialed her attorney.
“Mr. Lloyd? I need to speak with you regarding my house. I’ve come to a decision and I want her out no matter what it takes.”

****

It was still morning. Frannie had set her cup of tea on a small table next to the porch rocker, but today it failed to soothe her. She was tossed back and forth between anger and distress. She needed questions answered.

Maia
came straight around to the back and climbed the stairs to where Frannie waited on the porch.

“
Hey, there. I’m here.”

“
Thanks for coming over. I appreciate it. This was inconvenient for you. I could’ve driven over.”

“
It was no problem. I had to drop off something at Luke’s.”

Maia continued,
“No one was home, so I left it inside the storm door and came on over.” She dropped into a rocker and smoothed her flowered skirt and kicked off her low heels. “What a gorgeous day. So what’s up?”

“
Would you like some tea?”

“
Sweet tea?”

“
A cup of tea.
Hot
tea.”

“
Oh. Maybe later. Thanks.”

“
Excuse me for a minute.”

Frannie went inside, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it from the pitcher in the fridge. She went back out with the glass in one hand and a napkin in the other. She put the napkin against the bottom of the glass
and then smoothed it as she twisted it up the sides of the glass.

“
Voila, Maia. For you.”

“
Look at you! You’re one of us now. By the way, I love that scarf. It’s a great color on you.”

She almost answered, Brian gave it to me, but didn
’t want to invite that discussion. The more precious their relationship had become, the less she was willing to chat about it. Instead, she said, “I need to ask you about something.”

“
You seem so nervous. Surely nothing can be so dreadful on a beautiful day like this.”

“
I have several things bothering me, but this one, I think you can help with.”

Maia stopped rocking and leaned forward
, her feet flat on the porch. “Name it.”

Frannie looked her straight in the face.
“Will you be honest with me?”

“
Of course. What’s up?”

“
It’s about Brian.”

Maia
’s face changed, going solemn, and her brows narrowed. Almost as quickly, her expression smoothed, but didn’t quite return to the relaxed, cheery state she’d arrived in. She said, “Go on.”

“
Brian isn’t my uncle’s handyman, is he? What does he do for a living?”

She leaned back into the rocker. She put a finger to her lips and paused before answering.
“This and that, I guess. I don’t quite know how to answer you.”

Her caution, the careful choice of words, worried Frannie. Maia opened her mouth
and then snapped it shut again. Her face began to flush.

“
Are you okay?”

Maia nodded, keeping her lips firmly pressed together.

In frustration, Frannie leaned back in her chair, too, and groaned. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.”

“
Ask
him
.” Maia said. “He’ll tell you anything, but you know how he feels about gossip, even when it isn’t really gossip, but only talking. I told him I’d try not to, you know, talk about other people’s business. Anyway, ask him.”

“
You’re right. I was too embarrassed. It must have started as a misunderstanding, but why wouldn’t he tell me?” She stood abruptly and went to stand again at the rail. The rocker kept rocking. “But why should he be honest with me? I tried being candid and it went badly, believe me.”

“
With Brian?

She had a feeling that if she answered
‘yes’ Maia would dispense with caution and tell her anything she wanted to know. She said, “No.”

“
Not me, right?”

“
Definitely not you.”

“
Oh, so it’s Juli.”

Her heart sank.
Juli and Maia must have discussed what she’d told Juli. She felt like a fool. “So she told you?”

“
Told me what?”

She heard sincerity in Maia
’s voice. “How do you know something happened between me and Juli?”

“
I don’t actually know, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t talking about Joel. You aren’t, right?”

“
No.”

“
Whew. Good. Joel and I have been talking a lot and he’s wonderful, so I’m glad. You mentioned ‘she’ the other day at lunch when you said you had something worrying you. Your mother might have been on your mind, but you were already troubled about her, right? Nothing new. Luke did mention you came by, but then left because Juli felt ill. Or, at least, he thought that was why you left, but I could tell he was concerned.”

“
I see.” Juli had kept it to herself. Frannie found that reassuring. “You are one clever girl.”

Maia giggled.
“Not really, but I am intuitive. I pick up on moods and bits of info and they fit together sometimes.” She looked down. “I’m not really a gossip. Or maybe I am. Brian is probably right about that, but I’m working on it.”

“
I’ll ask Brian.”

“
Yes, please.” Maia touched the corner of her eye.

“
You aren’t crying, are you?”

She shook her head.
“Do you need help with Juli? I know she likes you.”

From d
own the beach, a walker had approached, already nearly parallel with
Captain’s Walk
.

Maia half-rose and squinted.
“Is that Juli down there? Were you expecting her?”

“
No.” Frannie clutched the railing. “No, but I’m glad she came. I need to speak with her.”

“
I guess that explains why she wasn’t home. Do you need my help?”

She
almost wanted Maia for cover. Juli might be more receptive, or at least appear more receptive, with Maia present, but that wasn’t fair to Juli and it was cowardly.

“
I should speak with her alone.”

“
I’ll run along then. Unless you need me to stay? To wait?”

“
Thanks, Maia. I’ll talk to you later.”

She stood and waved at Juli, then slipped her bare feet into her shoes, grabbed her purse, and with a reassuring smile, she vanished down the stairs.

Frannie walked down the crossover. She felt like she was approaching fate.

Juli
was here, dressed in rolled up jeans and carrying her sandals. Frannie touched the cotton capris she wore. Beach wear for a beach meeting. She descended the steps and asked, “Would you like to walk?”

“
Maybe we could sit here?” Juli nodded toward the sand.

They sat, leaving about a yard of careful space between them.

“I’m not sure what to call you. I met you as ‘Frannie’ but Brian calls you Fran as if you’ve never been called anything else. Which is right?”

She dug her fingers into the warm sand.
“Frannie.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I might try on Fran for a while. I always wanted to be someone different, anyway. At least, I have since my dad died.”

Juli arched one eyebrow.
“Someone different? Who?”

One speechless moment
, and then Frannie shook her head. “Who? You’re joking.”

“
I am, but only sort of.”

“
You think I’m foolish, don’t you? I have been blessed in many ways. I have so much. I’ve had it all of my life and yet I was never content being me.”

“
Why?”

“
I never felt comfortable in my own skin. Complete. I felt like an imposter. Unworthy.”