Lakeshore Secrets: The McAdams Sisters - Kate McAdams (By The Lake Series Book 1) (4 page)

BOOK: Lakeshore Secrets: The McAdams Sisters - Kate McAdams (By The Lake Series Book 1)
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“Peyton was staying with you and I didn’t want to crowd the house.”

He nodded slowly. He probably thought there was a much deeper reason for her staying at the resort. Like Marc perhaps. What did her father think was going to happen exactly? Because she was pretty sure he could never conjure up the quarrel that had already played out followed by the trip, slap, and fall that had landed them together almost lip locked in a hot steamy sauna. She didn’t think it wise to go down this road with her father...or with any of her family members for that matter.

The door burst open and her twin, with matching brown curls layered above her shoulders and highlighted in platinum blonde, ran straight in for a hug from her double. “Oh I missed you!” Peyton cried, her arms wrapped tightly around her shoulder, in an overly extended, I’m-never-letting-go-of-you, bear hug. Kate squeezed back.

“Share.” Sydney, only a year younger, pushed her off and scooped in for her own hug. “I love having you home,” she whispered. “I missed you so much.” Sydney had her father’s wavy, light blonde hair and brown eyes, completely the opposite of all the twins.

“I missed you too, Syd.”

Kate gave them the run down on Abby as they settled around the table and pulled open the take-out bags, popping the lids off and digging into the Chinese food.

Sydney’s brows furrowed together as she listened. She looked mortified that she had missed the signs of her sister’s breakdown. “This has all happened so quickly.  First, we were at the hospital and Abby seemed fine.” She glanced at their dad who nodded in agreement. “I mean obviously not fine but under the circumstances...” she paused, re-thinking the situation. “Maybe she was in shock,” she offered as an explanation. “I don’t know.  She wouldn’t come home with me or Dad and said she was tired. Then I was making funeral arrangements and calling all of you and I just didn’t notice.” She looked down at her trembling hands holding the chop sticks.

Kate touched her arm in support. “No one’s blaming you Syd. We definitely couldn’t foresee Abby’s actions. But we should all talk to her in the morning.” Everyone agreed. “Why don’t you tell us about all the arrangements, since none of us were able to make it.” Kate glared at Peyton and she innocently shrugged. What had kept her away?

Sydney quickly listed off the times and date for the visitation, the service and the brunch afterwards. They easily moved away from the subject of death and were all contributing a happy little part of their current lives to lighten the mood. Sydney bragged about her daughter, Haylee, being an “A” student in school. Peyton beamed about the rise in her clientele and if she ever decided to open a business in her house she would have a fantastic following to support her. Her dad gave them some gossip all the girls looked surprised he would even know. And Kate contributed her excitement on her new condo, but left out the part where Derek was planning on moving in. An hour later, their exhausted father announced he was heading home.

“I’m going to spend the night here,” Peyton told him, declining a ride home. He did rounds giving hugs to each of his girls before leaving. They casually waved and watched him leave. Then Peyton turned the lock, Kate grabbed wine glasses from the cupboard, and Sydney went digging into the cleaning cupboard to pull out a bottle of hidden red wine.

They all but collapsed on the white wicker furniture in the insulated and heated sun room. They had lived through their dad’s drinking and vowed to never take a sip of alcohol with him present to support his decision and in fear he might slip.

“What is that delicious smell?” Peyton asked. The sun room was enchanted with lavender, citrus, vanilla and so many more alluring smells teasing their senses like a field of wild flowers.

Sydney stood “Do you want to know a secret?” she teased, wiggling her hips across the room. The sisters laughed. She put her finger over her mouth silently hushing before she reached towards the large wooden doors and opened the mammoth of an antique pine flat-to-the-wall. The aroma intensified. Inside were rows of handmade soaps. The curious twins ventured over mimicking Sydney’s walk. The soaps were wrapped in twine and adorned with little handmade listings descriptive names of all the properties of the essential oils listed on the backside.

“What is this?” Kate asked. It couldn’t very well be Gran’s personal collection of soap since each row was multiples of the exact same one.

“Abby started making these for her and Gran. Gran suggested, when her friends started wanting them that they sell them,” Peyton explained.

Kate picked up a Shea butter bar and smelled it. It was wonderful. “Wow, these are amazing. Abby made them?”

Sydney nodded. “This is her third batch and they started taking orders and delivering to friends.”

Kate was impressed. “That is wonderful. Is she enjoying it?” Kate would love to see her sister do anything other than waitressing in Jake’s bar.

Sydney nodded. “This is amazing soap. I have to admit that I was surprised the first time I used it, but it’s so soft and all natural and leaves your face feeling younger.”

Kate gave her a slanted grin. “You could be the spokesperson.”

“You’re the advertising designer, maybe you should make her up some posters and flyers to help her advertise,” she told Kate.

“Maybe I will.”

“Just don’t forget to buy some before you leave. It would mean the world to Abby.”

Abby. What were they going to do with Abby?

Chapter Six

Marc dropped his mother and sisters off at the glass double front doors of the funeral home, before driving he and his uncle to a parking space in the back.

“I’m proud of you Marcus, for putting aside your feelings regarding Katherine and attending tonight,” his uncle said, as their quick strides took them across the wind whipping evening. The sun settled earlier now and was beginning to dip behind the lake, and like his feelings towards Kate, shadowed them in darkness.

He shrugged.

“You take it lightly but it’s difficult to get over betrayal,” he continued. “No matter the people involved, or the volume of the betrayal.”  He spoke as if reliving the experience. It was a betrayal linked to the brothers no doubt.

His Uncle Carl spoke with consideration in contrast to Marc’s father’s unsympathetic, and generally selfish, nature. It was hard to believe complete opposites shared the same bloodline. Since the loss of his brother, his uncle strived to bond with his nephew. A healing process, Marc believed.

It was a nice change from having to disguise his feelings and thoughts like the inspiration behind a masquerade ball. He’d always adorned a mask with his father, never revealing what he felt and, under no circumstances, ever requesting his father’s opinion. It was him and his mother alone. Until now, and even after a lifetime of trusting his uncle, Marc couldn’t help but be cautious. He felt that little mask was still dangling whenever he conversed with his uncle. His father could take credit after heeding a warning:
You’re Uncle Carl is not who he seems and it is best you figured the truth out after I’m gone. Don’t hate me for keeping it from you or those involved Marcus, your heart is better than that.
Marc wasn’t sure what that meant but wondered if all the strange up and down’s with his Uncle were tied to his father’s warning.

He didn’t know whether to believe his father or the strong relationship he had always had with his uncle.

His father had changed in his last months of life. It had been an aggressive cancer that had taken him down quickly like no human could. And Marc found a lot of his father’s ramblings at the end to be sincere, and left him taking extra precautions he never had with his uncle in a time when he was trying to get closer to Marc. It was all exhausting.

However, if his uncle uncovered the events that transpired in the sauna, he might scrutinize his nephew differently. How Marc had initiated the exact lack of self-control his uncle was presuming he carried.

“Let’s see how this plays out,” he said patting his uncle’s shoulders.

Inside, they found the Caliendo women scattered between the three rooms opened for visitation. Situated in an old Victorian home that had long since been transformed into one of the two funeral homes in town, the grand foyer displayed a large winding staircase located at the heart of the house. The main areas on each side were open and wrapped around behind the staircase where another room connected the three in a half moon. It was casual visitation, with no line up to wait in and pass your condolences, but instead an open gathering to show your respect.

His uncle was also quick to a find a group of old acquaintances to pass his time. Marc didn’t mind. He hadn’t turned up solely to please his mother, he was on a search for a proper apology to Kate.

The rooms were separated by large columns or French doors propped open with cast urns filled with cascading flowers. Each room was crowded. He recognized plenty of business owners likely stopping by on their way home before supper.

He wasn’t able to simply walk around and zero in on Kate, he was a Caliendo, and accompanying the name was the expected communication of many. People wouldn’t allow him to pass without a greeting. Some inquired about the resort, others about his family while others wanted to share a piece of their business or family. He was getting used to the friendly banter, since that was a big part of his job at the resort: making sure the guests were always satisfied.

He spotted Izzy still hanging with Emma and found it rather odd she hadn’t scoped out Abby.

As he walked into the second room, he stopped by Grace McAdams casket. Flowers brightened up her area for an adored woman, and he silently paid his respects.

Through the second set of French doors, he finally spotted Kate. She was off to the side of the room, rearranging coffee mugs and napkins at a small beverage and snack table−alone. There were less people gathered in the last room, as though they had not quite made it that far yet. He nodded at guests, quick and brisk, brushing them off, heading directly towards Kate.

As he approached the table, she took no notice, her eyes lost in her own deep thoughts. He had the opportunity to notice her shimmering long sleeved, fitted black dress with a crocheted neckline. He preferred her curls loose and wild, but they were pulled up and around the back of her head, sleek and professional...nothing like they had been in that sauna.
Get the thoughts of the sauna out of your head!

He picked up a mug casually and set it in her row. “I can’t stand it when the cups aren’t sorted at such events,” he teased.

She looked up confused at first, then when she found his eyes, hers lightened and her cheeks stained from embarrassment.

“Busted,” she said setting two mugs back on the table. Her hands clasped together as though they couldn’t stay apart. He could hold them apart.
Enough.

A couple came to the table for coffee and he touched the small of her back and guided her away to have a private moment. “I wanted to give my condolences for Grace.”

“Thank you.”

“I also wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you yesterday.”

She smiled up at him. “It should be me apologizing,” she said. “I offended your father and it was inconsiderate with his passing not that long ago.”

He hadn’t even considered that. Maybe it would have saved him the drive here as though an eye for an eye solution was mature. “I guess we both said things we didn’t mean.”

She smiled shyly. “I suppose we did.”

Awkwardness, that had never interrupted them before surrounded them both now.

“How’s your knee?” he asked.

She half smiled again. “I think I will survive.”

Another wave of awkwardness.

“Marc since you’re here, I think we should clarify that what happened yesterday, um, after the fighting, you know.” She looked flustered. “Anyways, that can’t happen again.”

He definitely agreed with her one hundred percent and then some. “I wasn’t looking for anything here.”

“Of course you weren’t,” she said giving her head a little shake. “You probably have a girlfriend, or fiancée. There’s no ring on your finger so I know there’s no wife and if there was a wife I’m sure Gran would have told me and...”

She was rambling. It was very unlike her. He touched her hand to silence her. “I do not have any of the above.” That wasn’t embarrassing like Izzy had said it would be.

Her head whipped up. “I wasn’t meaning to pry, I...” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I actually hate this, being here.”

“Back in Willow Valley?”

She shook her head. “No, not at all. I like being back here.” He wondered why she hadn’t come back before now. “It’s
here
.” She glanced at Grace and he knew where her thoughts had been when he’d arrived. Annabelle McAdams. Suddenly, he was lost with her, the quick name bringing back a slew of memories and emotions. He forgot she had left him broken hearted and he found himself simply standing beside his best friend, whose eyes he couldn’t stomach to see filled with so much grief. It was like they were back in time and her mother was in the coffin instead of Gran. After all the years of her being there for him while he was growing up, that had been his turn to be the strong person she needed him to be.

Without thinking, he wrapped his hand around hers. They trembled but didn’t pull away. “Come on,” he whispered. She didn’t argue and let him lead her through one of the back doors, just as they had done on that sunny day she buried her mother, and ended up down a hall and in the staff kitchen. Two older, grey-haired ladies smiled at them as they entered.

“Marc, what are you doing?” she asked sending them an apologetic and slightly embarrassed smile.

“Do you ladies know if you might have some ice cream in that freezer?” He felt her hand tighten around his. His couldn’t tell if she was excited or mortified. The young Kate would have been thrilled, the older Kate he didn’t know at all.

The shorter, more round lady stopped what she was working on, flashed them a friendly smile and said, “I think we do.” She bustled her way around the kitchen, fetching ice cream out of the freezer and bowls from the cupboard. She glanced at them. “One bowl or two?”

“One is fine,” he answered. She handed them one bowl of heaping vanilla ice cream with two spoons, then went back to her work, casually, as though this was a common occurrence, which he was sure it wasn’t.

There was another staircase in the back hall between the kitchen and visitation room and they stopped to sit.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said, passing him a spoon, a shocked grin spread across her face. He didn’t have the same passion for ice cream as she did, but he took a spoonful.

“I wanted ice cream,” he said.

She laughed. “I don’t really believe you.”

He winked at her. “I guess you will never know.”

She ate her ice cream and he could see the weight of her grief lift a little bit and the weight of his conscience lifted along floating into the air like petals escaping their stem. It was a win/win.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Her voice was grave.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You know why?”

He rested his elbows on his knees and gazed down at the side of her soft face. “You were my friend Kate, long before you were my girl. I wish you would have remembered that before you left.”

Her eyes lifted to his, so beautiful and so full of sadness. “I never forgot,” she said and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment before going back to the ice cream. He chuckled to himself watching her devour that cold mountain. Some things never changed.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked out of the blue.

How could he forget, she took his brother, who was towering in height and age, to his knees without a doubt in her mind that she couldn’t. Marc had always been smaller than Corbin, his brother, even if there had only been four years between them. Corbin was also a bully and Marc had been an easy target. That day the two brothers had been waiting for their dad to finish in the office for supper. Marc had been reading a book and Corbin had been kicking the toe of his shoe on the floor bored when he decided he wanted Marc’s book and snatched it from him. Of course Corbin never did anything shoddy and began ripping pages out of his book and flagging them in front of him before crinkling them and throwing them at his feet. Marc asked for it back, politely, which in turn made Corbin laugh and continue tearing. Marc just stared in horror as he defaced the book he hadn’t finished unable to work up the courage to get it back. That was when Kate rounded the corner of the resort and intervened dropping her hands on her hips and giving Corbin a straightforward warning. He laughed at her just like he laughed and Marc and she took him to his knees and made him cry like a baby.

“I do,” he said.

She laughed. “You were so scrawny, like this skinny, geeky ten-year-old.” She laughed. “You had thin rimmed round glasses, like Harry Potter.”

“I thought we were done with the insults.”

She smiled.

He thought back. “You were this wild, spark with such determination.”

She smirked at him. “I’m sure I looked like a wild, unkempt brat,” she said. “Remember my hair?” She put her hands beside her hair making a full motion. “I bet my jeans had been ripped.”

He nodded. “Yes, they were ripped.”

“Probably oil on my face.”

“Dirt down your shirt.”

She laughed. “I don’t understand how we just clicked. You know.”

He nudged her side lightly with his elbow. “You were my hero, didn’t you know?”

“I don’t think that’s an accurate title.”

“My brother never bothered me again after that day.” Of course he had only lived four years longer before the car crash that took his life. The two had been so different. Marc enjoyed books, Corbin liked television. Marc was calm like a warm breeze, collected with poise, Corbin was a wild bullet ready to thrash ahead without alarm.

“I’m surprised your mom invited me back,” she said. “Is she here?”

He nodded. “I was her favorite child and she couldn’t say no to me.”

She laughed. “Oh stop it. Your mom didn’t play favorites. She probably thought you could use a bodyguard.”

“That must have been it. You’re awfully full of yourself.”

“Well, I was your hero.”

He laughed. She laughed.

“I should probably get back,” she said. They stood. “Wait, did you come with Izzy?”

He nodded.

She smiled in relief. “Thank you for the ice cream, the distraction.” She handed him the bowl. “Abby has disappeared since this morning but I bet your sister can pinpoint exactly where she is.”

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