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Authors: Belleporte Summer

Laura Abbot (19 page)

BOOK: Laura Abbot
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“You’re saying you don’t want to see me for a while?”

“Would you mind terribly?”

“What do you think?” As if memorizing her face, he traced her cheek with his forefinger. “Yes, I’ll mind. In fact, I’ll be miserable. But I understand. You need to handle this in your own way, in your own time.” He leaned over and kissed her gently, fleetingly. Before she climbed out of the car, he took hold of her arm. “Could I offer one piece of advice?”

She nodded.

“You’ve joked about your
carpe diem
philosophy, but it may be your best defense in reacting to what’s happened. Those old days are gone. You have only this day, then the next and the next. Your parents love you. Katherine loves you. Remember that, and seize the day.”

She didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she squeezed his hand in acknowledgment, then stepped out of his car and retrieved her bag from the back seat. She left him then, started her car and pulled back on the highway, noting that he was, indeed, following her. Fortunately traffic was lighter than usual. She was tired in ways that went far deeper than mere sleep deprivation. Katherine would be waiting at Summer Haven for answers.

And right now, Laurel wasn’t sure she had any.

 

B
EN ARRIVED
back in Belleporte shortly after seven, and instead of going straight to the office, he drove to his mother’s. In his concern for Laurel and her family, he’d put the latest crisis with Mike on the back burner. During the drive from Norwalk he’d realized that unless he wanted a family schism of his own, it was time for a heart-to-heart with Mike. Laurel was seeing a side of Mike that Ben wasn’t. Maybe he simply brought out the worst in the kid, or maybe he needed to give his brother a chance.

It was well and good to offer Laurel advice on how to handle things with her family, but he needed to practice what he preached. He loved his family, but they had to get some things squared around. Like Laurel, he, too, was having to redefine himself.

When Ben walked into the house, he found Bess, Brian and his mother huddled around the kitchen table. “I’m back,” he said, dropping into the vacant chair.

“Can I get you some coffee?” his mother asked.

“Thanks, Mom.”

While Maureen poured him a mug, Bess studied her nails and Brian stretched his legs beneath the table and leaned against his chairback.

“How was your trip?” Maureen asked as she set down his coffee.

“Necessary,” Ben said. “I hated to leave you in the lurch with Mike, but Laurel needed me.”

They waited, as if expecting him to fill them in, but instead, he said, “Where is Mike?”

Brian answered. “Downstairs.”

“I’ll talk to him later,” Ben said, rubbing his forefinger around the rim of his mug. “Tell me what happened.”

His brother folded his arms across his chest. “The short, sweet version is that he and his buddies got busted for possession. Mom finally got hold of me about ten-thirty and I sprung him out of the pokey. He claims he wasn’t drinking and didn’t know about the marijuana. A classic case of guilt by association, at least that’s what he says.”

Bess looked up then. “Go easy on him, Ben.”

Ben continued staring at Brian. “You believe him?”

“I know he hasn’t been a model kid, but about this? Yeah, I believe him.”

As he drank slowly from his mug, Ben noticed the way his mother was gazing at him with a question in her eyes. Setting down the coffee, Ben steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them. “I need to talk to him.” He looked at his sister. “And, Bess, I will listen to him.”

She nodded.

“Before I go downstairs, though, there’s something I want to say.” He sensed tension in his mother. “I’m glad it’s the three of you who are here, because I’m about to ask for your help.”

“Help?” Bess echoed.

Ben straightened up, fighting to find the right words. “When Dad died, I promised him I’d take over as head of this family.” Except for the squeak of Brian’s chair leg on the tile floor, it was deathly quiet. “I realize now that isn’t as easy as it might sound. The way I see it, the role of a family is to work together to solve problems. To be there for each other.” He picked up his mug and cupped his hands around it. “I was trying to do it all on my own. I wasn’t giving anyone else much of a chance.”

“Ben…” His mother touched his arm and he set down his coffee. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“No, I’m not,” he said thoughtfully. “I took everything on myself, and in the process, ended up resenting my responsibilities. Even, at times, resenting some of you. I’m not proud of that. Or of acting like I was the only one who had the answers.” He turned to Bess and Brian. “I haven’t been giving either of you much credit. We’re all adults here. I’m not the father figure, I’m just one of you.” He let his gaze sweep over all three. “And I need your help.”

Brian eyed him intently. “What can we do?”

“Take me down a peg or two when I need it.” Ben chuckled sardonically. “I must’ve come across as overbearing a lot of the time.”

“You do have a way about you,” Brian said with a teasing grin.

“But we all need you,” Bess murmured quietly. “
I
need you.”

Ben corrected her. “We need each other.”

“Son?” His mother caught his eye. “I think you’re trying to tell us something more.”

With a glance, Ben telegraphed her his gratitude. “What Mom’s hinting at is that I’ve put my own life on hold these past few months, trying to be here for everybody. But I’ve realized martyrs don’t win popularity contests. So I’m asking for us to work together to solve the problems, whether it’s as monumental as Bess’s marriage or as slight as Mom’s plumbing. I can’t do it by myself.”

Nobody said anything for several ticks of the kitchen clock. Then Brian clamped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I think maybe my brother is saying it’s grow-up time for all of us.” He grinned. “Deal me in, Ben.”

“Me, too,” Bess said, then added with a sheepish smile, “and I think you’re implying that I have to face my feelings about Darren on my own instead of polling the delegation at every turn.”

“Whoa,” Ben said, spreading his hands. “I’m not going there.”

Maureen inclined her head. “But I like the sound of it.”

Ben looked around the table. “I love you guys,” he said in a hoarse voice that didn’t come out quite right. He rose to his feet. “It’s time for that chat with Mike.”

Before he started for the stairs, Bess grabbed his hand. “We love you, too, Ben.” Then with a meaningful glance at her mother, she added, “And we love Laurel, too.”

A portion of the rock lodged in his stomach for so long broke off and dissolved. From the rec room he could hear the chipper voice of a sportscaster hyping the new outfielder the Tigers had recently brought up from the minors. Mike sprawled in the black vinyl recliner, a bag of pretzels lying in his lap. When he saw Ben, he froze. “You’re back,” he said, as if announcing the onset of Armageddon.

Ben hooked a hip over a bar stool. “Yeah.” Mike took his time folding the top of the pretzel bag, all the while watching the muscular ball player going through his arcane batting ritual.

“Could we talk?” Ben said just loudly enough to be heard over the TV.

Rolling his eyes, Mike reached for the remote and muted the sound. “I knew this was coming.”

“What?”

“The big lecture.”

“No lecture.”

Mike looked at him with incredulity. “Right.”

“Tell me what happened, Mike.”

The boy wouldn’t look at him. “The others have already told you about it.”

“I want to hear your version.”

Mike shrugged, but said nothing.

“Laurel tells me you’re good help. She likes you. Beyond that, she trusts you.” He hesitated. “I think it’s about time I got off your case and listened.”

Slowly, Mike turned his head and studied Ben, skepticism and yearning warring in his eyes.

Ben cleared his throat. “I’ve been a jerk, Mike. Acting like I didn’t trust you. Not being willing to hear what you were trying to tell me. I haven’t been the big brother you needed. I’ve been more like a judge and executioner.”

Mike remained silent, but a flush spread over his face.

“I pretty much nailed it, huh?”

With a nervous gesture, the boy cracked his knuckles. “Yeah. You’ve been on me big time ever since Dad died.”

“And you’ve been doing some questionable stuff ever since then. Want to talk about why?”

“I didn’t know about the marijuana on the beach. I swear.”

“We’ll talk about that later, but for what’s it worth, I believe you.” In front of him now was not the defiant teenager that drove Ben to distraction, but his hurting kid brother who had idolized their father. Ben moved to the sofa, which was set at right angles to the recliner. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Mike, talk to me about Dad. You miss him, too, right?”

Mike clenched his hands in an effort to fight the tears filling his eyes. He nodded mutely.

“Are you angry about it?”

“Yeah. I mean, what’s fair about dying like that? After all he’d been through. Dad was a hero. But did that count?” He jumped up from the recliner, leaving it rocking in his wake. “No way!” He walked several feet, then turned. “And you know what? Nobody in this family ever talks about it. About him. It’s like, ‘So, he’s gone. Let’s move on with our lives.’ Well, I can’t.” Mike strode toward the punching bag suspended from a beam and threw a quick one-two.

Ben rose to his feet and approached his brother. “I loved him, too,” he said quietly.

Mike whirled around. “Well, you have a weird way of showing it.”

“Tell me how,” Ben said, standing his ground.

“Talk about him! Don’t act like you’re him when you’re not. Nobody’s him. He’s…he’s gone.”

Ben placed his hands on Mike’s shoulders. “You’re right. I’m not him. I could never be. I’m just Ben, your big brother who loves you.”

Mike eyed him suspiciously. “Not lately. Not when I’m in trouble.”

“Sorry, kid.” Ben tried a smile. “Even then.” He grabbed Mike in a bear hug.

At first his brother resisted, but then he threw his arms around Ben and whispered in a cracking voice, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Not half as sorry as I am,” Ben said.

When he drew away, Mike wiped his nose on his sleeve. Then, with his eyes lowered, he spoke softly. “I’m ready to tell you about being arrested.”

“Okay,” Ben said, sitting back down. “I’m listening.” And when he did, he discovered it made all the difference.

 

L
ATE THE NEXT AFTERNOON
Laurel took off her running shoes and stepped off the boardwalk onto the beach. The sand was still warm between her toes. The lake was calm, the waves making a soothing shushing sound as they lapped at the shore. Just another peaceful Belleporte day.

Peaceful? It had been anything but that for her.

She’d been too tired last night to do much except check on the store, open a can of soup, shower and fall into bed, where all the ghosts of her newly discovered past haunted her until the wee hours when she finally lapsed into an exhausted sleep. After checking in with Megan and Mrs. Arlo this morning, she had called Katherine to set a time to talk, to get some answers to her questions.

Now, heading toward Summer Haven, Laurel wondered if it could ever again be the “magic castle” of her childhood. What would it become—a symbol of loss or of reconciliation?

A sudden breeze off the lake ruffled her hair, and for some reason, she was reminded of Ben’s admonition. The past is gone. Seize this day. Could she overcome her resentment of the way the Sullivans had treated her mother—her? Would she be able to embrace the reality that she had a grandmother?

In some ways she longed for the blissful ignorance she’d enjoyed for so many years, but it was time to put away childish innocence. Time to face the present moment.

She stopped in her tracks and looked up. Exactly at that moment, shafts of gold from the setting sun fell on Summer Haven, bathing it in a luminous light. Laurel had always believed in signs. She wouldn’t have come to Belleporte in the first place if she hadn’t. But this?

Not stopping to put on her shoes, she started running toward the steps leading up to Summer Haven—and her grandmother.

 

K
ATHERINE CROSSED HER HANDS
over her chest in a futile effort to control her emotions. She watched Laurel slowly, almost reluctantly, make her way toward Summer Haven. When she stopped, Katherine was seized by panic. What if Laurel changed her mind and didn’t want to see her after all?

Replaying this morning’s telephone conversation in her mind, Katherine knew she had no right to expect a happy outcome. Laurel had been polite but noncommittal. Upbraiding herself, Katherine went through a mental list of the reasons Laurel was entitled to be upset, praying her granddaughter would permit love to overcome her sense of betrayal. When Katherine again glanced at the beach, a tentative smile eased the tension in her jaw.

Laurel was running toward Summer Haven.

Heart pounding, Katherine went out onto the deck to greet her. Laurel paused at the top of the stairs, face flushed, bare feet encrusted with sand. The only sound was that of a flock of raucous gulls. Katherine waited, knowing instinctively that Laurel needed to set the tone.

Then with eyes full of yearning, Laurel approached and pulled Katherine into a warm, headily welcome embrace. “Grandmother, I’m home and I have so many questions,” she whispered.

Grandmother.
Dizzy with relief, Katherine studied her granddaughter’s face. “Then, darling girl, let’s begin.”

 

K
ATHERINE SAT
in a wooden rocker facing the lake, and Laurel pulled a canvas beach chair close. Whether or not her mother and grandmother could mend their relationship remained to be seen, but there on the beach, gazing up at Summer Haven, Laurel had reached an irrevocable conclusion. Never again would circumstances rob her of family. She took a deep breath. “Did you know that after she left, Mother tried repeatedly to call and write to you?”

BOOK: Laura Abbot
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