Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (32 page)

“Woo-hoo,” one of the guys said, “this is getting even more interesting.”

“You girls are cousins?” the balding guy asked, curiously looking at one and then the other. “You don't look much alike.”

“And you wrecked Janice's car?” Another guy shook his finger at Waverly. “Not nice, Cousin.”

Waverly forced a laugh. “To be fair, it was a staircase that wrecked her car.”

They started to kick that one around when Blake interrupted. “The deal is, we're leaving,” he told Janice. “I assume you can find a ride home.” Now he linked his arm in Waverly's. “We'll say our adieu.”

“Good night, everyone.” Waverly started to go but was stopped by someone's fingers digging into her forearm. Turning, she saw Janice now glaring at her with dark, angry eyes.

“You're not going
anywhere
until you explain yourself!” Janice spat.

“Hey, lighten up, lady,” one of the guys told her.

“Stay out of this,” Janice shot back. Then she turned to Waverly. “What is going on between you and Blake? I have a right to know.”

Waverly didn't know what to say.

“If you really want to talk about this,” Blake said quietly to Janice, “maybe we should take it someplace more private.”

“Private?”
Janice laughed, but it was a mean laugh. “My whole life is lived in the public forum. You bring me here tonight, then leave with my cousin? You think that's private? If you're breaking up with me, do it now! Unless you're afraid to…not man enough?”

“Janice,” he said gently. “I can't very well break up what's never been an authentic relationship. But if you're asking if whatever we had is over, I'd have to say absolutely. It's over and done. Finished. I've been trying to tell you that since the very beginning. But you don't listen.”

“Now that's true enough,” one of the guys agreed. “Ms. Grant might be easy on the eyes, but her ears don't work too well. We keep trying to talk some sense into her, but she just won't—”

“Shut
up!”
She shook her finger at him.

“See.” The guy nodded like she'd proved his point.

“Good night, Janice.” Blake's arm was still linked in Waverly's. But Janice hadn't released her viselike grip on Waverly's arm. Waverly was literally being pulled between the two of them now. With several more onlookers joining to witness this little display, Waverly hoped she wasn't about to play the rope in a tug-of-war game.

“Janice,” Waverly said firmly, “let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me what's going on between you two, Waverly.
I mean it.”

Waverly glanced nervously at Blake.

“Fine. If this is what it takes, I'll tell you exactly what's going on.” He focused his gaze directly at Janice. “I have fallen hopelessly in love with your cousin. I am totally smitten, over the moon, cupids and arrows, head over heels in love with her. Is that clear enough for you?”

Now everyone within about a ten-foot radius made little oohing-cooing sounds.

“Well!” Janice released Waverly's arm.

“Thank you.” Waverly rubbed the sore spot where bright red finger marks showed.

“Why didn't you say so in the first place?” Janice shot indignantly at Blake. “You didn't have to be such a chicken—”

“Aw, give 'em a break, Hotdog Lips,” Reggie called out from behind Janice.

Now everyone was laughing.

“Hotdog Lips?” the balding guy echoed. “Did you just call Janice Grant ‘Hotdog Lips'?”

While the others laughed and cracked a few more jokes, Blake gently eased Waverly away from the crowd. They were just going into the house when they ran into Belinda coming out.

“Hey, where are you two heading off to?” she asked with a suspicious grin.

Blake politely thanked Belinda for her hospitality and told her they needed to get home.

Waverly nodded. “Yes, blame it on me,” she explained. “It's been a very long day, and I'm tired.”

“But you won't see the fireworks,” Belinda said.

“Actually, we already saw some fireworks.” Waverly smiled weakly. “Maybe you missed that show.”

“Oh, you mean Janice Grant.” Belinda laughed. “I saw some of that.”

“I hope she won't be a problem,” Blake said quickly. “We offered her a ride home, but she declined.”

Belinda shook her head. “Oh, don't worry about her. I absolutely love controversial guests. Gives everyone something to talk about the next day.”

They continued making their exit, hurrying toward the front door as if they expected to be accosted by Janice.

They were barely outside, waiting in the shadows for the valet to come around with his car, when Waverly realized she was already replaying Blake's public proclamation of love. “Did you really mean
that?”
she asked without even thinking.

“What?” He looked confused.

Now she felt embarrassed. “Uh, nothing.”

But he was staring at her now, obviously trying to figure out what she'd meant. “Oh,” he said finally. “You mean what I said to Janice about my feelings for you…in front of everyone?”

“Yes.” She nervously fingered her strand of pearls. “Did you mean it?”

He barely nodded, but he looked worried.

She bit her lip, unsure as to how to respond and wondering why she'd blurted that out like that. Did she really want to deal with this right now?

“Did I come on too strong?” he asked with sincerity. “You looked a little freaked, but then again, it was a pretty weird situation. Who knew Janice would be so in your face with all that?”

“She'd been drinking.”

“Even so, I assumed she'd be more concerned about her public image.”

“Janice has always been something of an exhibitionist.”

“So I'm gathering.”

Waverly was grateful that his SUV was being delivered just now. It gave her a moment to attempt to get her bearings. Things were moving way too fast. And her mind was not keeping up.

“I'm sorry,” he said as he drove them away from the estate. “I probably overstepped my bounds by speaking out like that. But, seriously, your cousin was making me crazy. Maybe crazy begets crazy. You think?”

“So, you said that because of Janice? You wanted to get the message to her once and for all?”

“Well, yeah, sort of.” By the dim light of his dashboard, she could see his perplexed expression. Maybe he was as overwhelmed as she felt.

“Oh, Blake.” She let out a long sigh. “I'm sorry, but I am truly exhausted. Emotionally exhausted.”

“You've had a long day, Waverly.”

“And you were right. I'm still in shock, hearing that my mom is dying. It's like I can't even process it yet.”

“That's a heavy load.”

“So, please, forgive me if I just sit here in stumped silence.”

“You are absolutely forgiven.” He nodded with his eyes fixed on the road. “And you'll forgive me if I acted like a fool tonight?”

“Of course.”

Then, to her relief, he turned on some music. Some quiet instrumental jazz. But it sounded blessedly soothing after the noise and chaos of the party. Trusting that he would get her safely home, she leaned back into the comfortable seat, closed her eyes, and finally relaxed. Although it made no sense, this was the first time she'd relaxed in days, weeks…perhaps even years.

The next morning, Blake wanted to lay low. Mostly to avoid Janice, but he told himself he was focusing on his daughter and that there was a lot to see and experience on the island, and he planned to use Sicily as his excuse to go see it. To start with, he got her up early, and they drove to see the sun rise over at the East Chop lighthouse, where he got some pretty sweet photos. Then they came back home for a late breakfast. Blake would've liked to have spent the day just hanging at home but worried that Janice might drop in and make a big ugly scene. So he began to hatch a plan to keep them out and about for the duration of the day.

“Do you think Vivian and Louise are fighting?” Sicily asked him as they sat on a dock at Lake Tashmoo. With their bare feet hanging in the water, and sipping on drinks, they were recovering from their bike ride in the hot sun.

“What makes you think that?” he prodded gently.

“Because, when you were cleaning up the breakfast stuff, I went next door to take Vivian the shell I found on the beach this morning—you know, to add to her seashell bouquet. But Vivian wasn't even there. And Louise seemed kinda upset about something.”

“Oh?” He wondered if this had anything to do with Janice.

“Louise said that Vivian went to stay with Waverly for a few days.”

“Really? She's staying in Waverly's apartment?”

“Yeah. But Louise wasn't too happy about it. Do you think Vivian and Louise had a fight or something? Gregory sometimes runs off after he and Mommy have a fight.”

“Oh.” He searched for an appropriate response. He was curious to hear more about how often Gia and Gregory fought like that, but he'd find out about that some other time. Right now Sicily sounded more concerned about Louise and Vivian. “Maybe Vivian went to stay with Waverly so they could have some private time together.”

“You mean because Vivian is dying?”

“Who told you that?”

“I heard Louise talking about it to Janice this morning.”

“Oh.” Blake was curious about the context of this statement, but he didn't really want to go there just now. “So how does that make you feel?” he asked her. “You know…to hear that Vivian is, uh, well…dying.”

“Sad.” She took in a jagged little breath. “I don't want her to die, Daddy.”

“No, neither do I.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “It makes me sad too.”

“When is it going to happen?” Sicily asked quietly. “I mean, when is she going to die?”

“No one knows exactly when, sweetie.” He was struggling for the right words to explain this to her—but what if there were no right words? Then he remembered something Vivian had said not long ago. “But you do understand, don't you, that dying is just a natural part of living?”

She didn't answer. Instead she folded her arms across her front, intently picking at the edge of a Band-Aid on her elbow.

“You do realize everything that's alive has to die someday. You get that, don't you?”

“I guess so.”

“Good. But beyond that, I believe God has something far better for us when we die.”

“You mean heaven?”

He looked overhead to where a couple of gulls were squawking. “Yeah, heaven.”

“What's heaven supposed to be like, Dad?”

“Good question.”

“Meaning you don't really know?”

He considered his answer. “I don't think anyone knows for absolute certain, honey. But do you want to hear what I believe it could be like?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Well, I look at the most beautiful things in this world. You know, like some of my favorite kinds of things.” He pointed out toward the clear blue lake. “Like this spot right here. Or like the beach and the ocean, boats and lighthouses, and I imagine those things in heaven—only I imagine them being a lot better.”

“Like the boats might be able to sail over the water as well as over the clouds and everything?” she asked with growing enthusiasm.

“Yes,” he said eagerly. “Like that. Now tell me something you really love or enjoy doing.” He hoped she wouldn't say video games.

“Horses,” she declared.

“Horses?” He was surprised he'd never heard of this before.

“Yeah, I keep asking Mom to let me take riding lessons, but she says I have to be bigger to do it. But I know girls my age who get to ride horses.”

“Right.” He thought hard. “So maybe there will horses in heaven, and maybe some will be like Pegasus—you know, with wings and able to fly. And maybe they can do even more than fly.”

“Like swim underwater,” she suggested.

“Sure, why not?”

“And I can have my own horse in heaven?”

“Who knows?” He shrugged. “But since it's heaven and because God is an incredible creator and He made an amazing earth, doesn't it make sense that heaven will be a whole lot better than earth? Really, don't you think
anything
would be possible in heaven?”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

“In fact, I'll bet we can't begin to imagine how fantastic heaven will be, Sicily. Even if we have really good imaginations. It won't just be about horses and boats and things—people we love will be there too.”

“People like Vivian?”

“Yeah. Some people just get there sooner than others. Maybe it's to avoid a traffic jam.” He exhaled. “Like it was on Main Street this morning. Although I'm positive there will be no such thing as a traffic jam in heaven.”