Her Summer with the Marine: A Donovan Brothers Novel (Entangled Bliss) (11 page)

But it wasn’t time for that. This was one simple step. One important step. And, hopefully for his mom’s sake, one private step.

Since dispatch had been taken over by the 911 call center, there was no dispatcher at the front desk. Just a woman who looked as though she was the receptionist.

Before the words, “Can I help you?” were fully out of her mouth, old Red Garmin got up from his desk in the room in the back. With glass walls, his office afforded him a view of the door, and he’d obviously seen Finn come in.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the return of Finn Donovan.”

“Afternoon, Chief.”

“You were the smart one, right?”

“That was the rumor.” He caught the chief’s gaze. “Got a minute?”

Red motioned to his office. “Sure.”

Finn maneuvered around two empty desks to the door to Red’s office. Guilt about going against his mother’s wishes almost made him stop. But it was one thing not to air the family’s dirty laundry and another to protect the people he loved. He wasn’t confiding in Red to start trouble. He was going to do what he should have done a decade ago, when his dad kicked him out. And right or wrong, he and his family were going to have to live with it.

Chapter Ten

Three days later, an unusually hot June sun poured down and tried to bake the residents of Harmony Hills. Dressed in her black trousers and white ruffled blouse for Oscar Franklin’s funeral, Ellie barely noticed. Just when she believed she was firmly in the present moment, the hurt expression on Finn’s face would flit through her mind, and the warmth of shame would cascade from her head to her toes.

What would it feel like to live in a world of pain and fear? To be a boy too young to defend himself, let alone defend his mom? To be cast out into the world without money or anywhere to go? And then to finally trust someone with your secret and have that person not believe you?

She couldn’t imagine it.

But the knowledge that she’d hurt him was killing her, and rivals or not, she had to fix it. Three days had gone by without a word from him. She hadn’t seen him in town. There’d been no motorcycle roaring up and down her street. She’d driven by his office, but his Range Rover was never there. After the fiasco of her visit to his house, she couldn’t quite force herself to go there again. And he hadn’t tried to sell prepaid funeral packages at today’s funeral.

She couldn’t find him to talk this out.

With Barbara Beth taking the lead for McDermott’s at the services, she had no reason to stay after the graveside prayers, and she almost bailed. In the end, she drove to the church hall, watched as Barbara Beth stood by the minister, who said grace, and then paid the Dinner Belles.

Sliding the check into her apron pocket, Sandy said, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned to go, but Sandy stopped her.

“Can we count on you for Samantha’s funeral tomorrow?”

She almost told Sandy that she had to go to Pittsburgh the following day. It had been what she was planning, but she suddenly realized that the after-funeral lunch for his own client was the one place Finn couldn’t hide. She could find a private minute with him, quietly apologize, and then everything would be okay.

Plus, crass as it might make her feel, given how angry Finn was with her, she needed time with the Dinner Belles. She might not be ready with her funeral packages yet—the documents were with her dad’s lawyer for approval—but she would be soon.

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

Sandy’s face brightened. “Good. We’ll see you about eight.”

She nodded. “About eight.”

She walked out of the church hall feeling better, until she realized she didn’t know how to apologize to Finn, what to say. They had been two teens whose parents had screwed up their lives. Not that her dad and his mom hadn’t tried to fix things, but while other kids were enjoying the surface lives of going to parties, experimenting with alcohol and cigarettes and maybe even drugs, with their biggest worry being their current hairdo, she and Finn were struggling with adult issues. She was the child of the town’s scarlet woman and he was being beaten. He was hiding things. She was hiding from things.

It was why she’d sympathized when he’d talked to her that night in his Buick, but then they’d had sex when they should have been focusing on friendship. And, too young to know better, she’d misinterpreted everything because he’d never called her.

She wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to her again. But she had to try.

The next day, Ellie showered and went to her closet in search of clothes to wear to help prepare the after-funeral lunch.

She considered wearing the black sheath, appropriate dress for a funeral, but she wasn’t the funeral home director this time. Finn was.

The thought of seeing him sent butterflies winging around her stomach, but she ignored them. She might be attracted to him, but she shouldn’t be. Plus, right now, he wasn’t too fond of her, and she understood why. She didn’t want anything from him except his acceptance of her apology.

Period.

End of story.

Reminded of her goals, and not in any way, shape, or form intent on dressing up for him, she thought back to what she’d seen the other Dinner Belles wearing at the two funerals she’d participated in.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans and a scruffy T-shirt, she drove to the Catholic church hall and joined the ladies in the kitchen.

Accustomed to her now, the Belles went on breading chicken and salting cheesy potatoes as if she wasn’t anything special, talking about everything and nothing. Kids getting ready to go back to school. Football practice for Harmony Hills High School. A new baby being baptized. The sub sale. Then the subject of their fund-raiser came up.

Sandy walked over to the long rectangular table. “Mellanie gave me some bad news this morning.”

Mellanie winced. “Sorry. I couldn’t get the bluegrass band we were hoping to sign for the day in the park. They’re booked solid.”

Charlene Simmons sighed. “Great. They were our last hope.”

Ellie’s brow furrowed. “Last hope for what?”

“Entertainment. We put them in the gazebo so everyone can hear and see them.”

Given that the purpose of the event was to raise money, that didn’t make any sense. “If they’re playing in the park for everyone to hear, how do we get any money?”

Ashley nudged her shoulder and laughed. “They attract a crowd and we sell all those pierogis we’ve been making.”

“And pork sandwiches,” Sandy added.

Debbie Martin walked by. “And soft drinks.”

“We do face painting for the kids,” Charlene Simmons said.

Across the rectangular table from Ellie, Karen O’Riley leaned in and whispered, “There’s chuck-a-luck and poker on the far edge. That’s where we make the real money.”

Ellie nodded. “I get it.”

Sandy stood against the counter behind them. “The music is only a draw to get people to the park, but without it we’re screwed.”

“You can’t do another kind of draw?”

All eyes turned to Ellie.

Sandy asked, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. If all you need is a way to get people to the park, maybe you could have the girls’ softball team play the high school history teachers.”

Debbie gasped. “That’s a great idea.”

But Karen O’Riley said, “The girls have a tournament that weekend.”

“How about the boys’ Little League team?”

Charlene shook her head. “Those parents are burned out. We can’t ask them to have their kids play all day.”

Discussing options, they slid the chicken and roast beef into the big industrial-sized ovens, then went into the dining room to put silverware on the long, thin tables covered with paper tablecloths. They cut cakes brought to the family as sympathy offerings. Put the cheesy potatoes in the oven, ran disinfectant cloths down the kitchen’s rectangular table and countertops, and did up the prep dishes.

Then they waited. Standing by the center island in the clean kitchen, they waited for timers to sound and cars to roll in the church hall parking lot—hopefully simultaneously.

Just as the cars began arriving, buzzers began buzzing. The potatoes came out. The chicken was pronounced done. The roast beef was sliced.

No one gave an order. Everybody just seemed to know to do the next thing on the list.

The hall filled quickly as the Dinner Belles got the food onto the buffet table. Finn and the priest arrived. They stood at the head of the room while Father Jefferson said grace, then Finn told the guests on the first table to go to the buffet.

Peeking out the door between the kitchen and dining room, Ellie watched Finn. Unlike a lot of adult men, he’d retained his high school sexiness. He wore a suit with grace and dignity. But his slightly mussed hair and scruffy day-old growth of whiskers had probably set the hearts of every woman in the building to beating a little faster.

Even hers.

She shook her head. That was irrelevant. She had to apologize. He needed to know she understood she’d been wrong.

When Finn and Father Jefferson sat at a table in the back, she saw her chance, walked over to the coffeepot, and removed it from the drinks station. Armed with a sleeve of Styrofoam cups, she headed for the table with Finn and the priest.

“Coffee?”

White-haired Father Jefferson smiled broadly. “Yes, thank you.”

She poured him a cup and handed it to him. “You’re welcome.”

Then she faced Finn. “Finn? Coffee?”

He looked up at her. Their gazes connected. Time slowed to a crawl, then he quickly looked down. “No. Thanks.”

Her breath stumbled. How badly had she messed up that he wouldn’t even take free coffee from her?

She walked around the hall, offering coffee to people who more than happily took it. But it didn’t matter. The one person she wanted to talk to didn’t want to talk to her.

This time she didn’t feel shame. This time the warmth of stupidity enveloped her. Why did she always jump to conclusions with Finn?

Because they were always after the same things. In school it was to be the best. Now, both needed to support a parent. There was no compromise for them. No way they could let their guards down enough to trust each other.

With everyone’s first cup of coffee poured, she set the pot back on the burner and started a fresh one brewing. When she walked into the kitchen, all the Belles hovered by the door.

“He looks miserable.”

“Of course he does. He’s not even forty and his wife is dead.”

“Can you imagine what his last few months have been like?”

“Probably miserable.”

“And the medical bills?”

Ellie closed her eyes in disgust. Up until this moment, she’d been feeling good about her decision to join the Dinner Belles. With a lot of the older ladies gone, the younger Belles didn’t gossip as much as talk. They discussed their kids and school, the upcoming fund-raiser and Debbie Martin’s daughter’s wedding.

But now, with a juicy piece of news just beyond that door, they couldn’t help themselves.

She stormed to the main sink and ran hot water to wash the empty pans. If she banged a pot or two, she didn’t care. These women were heartless.

“You know the big joke about small towns is that when you flush your toilet the neighbor hears it.”

Her head snapped up.

Holding a dish towel, Sandy stood beside her, ready to dry the first pan, when Ellie set it on the strainer side of the sink.

Not quite sure of Sandy’s point, Ellie said, “I’ve never heard that joke.”

Sandy laughed. “It’s an oldie but goodie. Even if it is wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Have you ever heard your neighbor’s toilet flush?”

She looked at Sandy. “No.”

“Then it’s not true.”

“Right.”

“My point is that everybody believes everybody in a small town knows everything about each other.”

Washing the first empty cheesy potatoes pan, Ellie said nothing.

“But we don’t. In fact, when somebody like Samantha gets cancer, it’s a blow to all of us because we all knew her. We all liked her. But she was struggling and didn’t want her struggle to be public. So she didn’t want company. Didn’t want us to visit.”

Sandy nudged her head in the direction of the door where her Belles stood watching the grieving family. Her eyes filled with tears as she said, “They’re confused. Curious, but in a sad way. She was their friend and out of respect for Samantha’s wishes, they didn’t get to say good-bye. And they’re talking it out among themselves, trying to understand.” She caught Ellie’s gaze. “This is totally different than what we did with your mom.”

Anger filled Ellie. How dare Sandy talk about her mother so effortlessly, so simply? “Right.”

“I’m serious, Ellie. We learned our lesson about gossiping with your mom. No one knew she was having an affair. No one suspected she and your dad were having trouble. Or that she was planning to leave town.” She shook her head. “But that did not give us license to talk about her the way we did. And it was watching your dad deal with the scandal that eventually brought us to our senses. Small towns are boring. Her story was so juicy none of us could resist. But one day we looked at your dad, realized how much we were hurting him, and we made a pact. No more gossip.” She caught Ellie’s gaze. “It stands to this day.”

Ellie stopped scrubbing the pot, though she couldn’t look at Sandy. In the time she’d spent with the Belles, their conversations had been about events, their kids, the joys and pains of parenting. Until today, talking about Samantha, they hadn’t discussed another person.

“But we did gossip about your mom. We didn’t think beyond ourselves. But Charlene, Karen, and I —the only three of us who were in the group when your mom died—feel we owe you an apology. We are very, very sorry.”

Ellie’s lips trembled. An entire dam of emotion welled up inside her. She missed her mom. Always. Even though her mom had left—hadn’t thought to take her daughter, just left—the apology from Sandy, on behalf of the group, couldn’t make up for the pain of years of gossip. But for some reason or another it drenched her heart with longing so strong her chest hurt, her eyes filled with tears. She wanted a home, and Harmony Hills was beginning to feel like home. But she’d royally screwed things up with Finn. And even if she hadn’t, one of them was going to lose. It might be her. She might be the one who failed her father.

She pulled her hands from the dishwater and shrugged out of her apron. “Thank you for your apology. But I’ve gotta go.”

She raced out the door, swiping at her tears, but didn’t even get to her car before her phone rang. She sucked back her runaway emotions and quietly said, “McDermott’s.”

“Hey, sweetie, it’s Regina at Harmony Hills Hideaway.”

The yearning in her chest became fear. “How’s my dad?”

“He’s fine. But Mac Fredericks died. His family said to call you.”

“Oh.” Her feelings shifted again, and for once, she didn’t try to fight it. She didn’t want to think about the Dinner Belles’ apology. She didn’t want to worry about her dad. Or money. Or Finn. She just wanted to get through this day and hope tomorrow was better. Being busy was exactly what she needed.

She called Dan and decided not to accompany him on the trip to Harmony Hills Hideaway. She already had the reputation of being the grim reaper. No sense fostering that. Instead, she stayed behind in the office, called B.B. and Jason, and ended up in the basement, waiting with B.B.