McCarthys of Gansett Island Boxed Set Books 1-3 (15 page)

“Not anymore.”

Daisy glanced over her shoulder as if she was worried that Ethel might appear any second. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to. You’ve got your own rooms to deal with.”

“None of mine come close to this. Maddie’s my friend, and you’re doing her a favor, so let me help you.”

Since Mac had no idea where to even begin, he sent her a grateful smile. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Chapter 7

By the time Mac opened the door to his tenth and final room, he could safely say he’d never worked harder in his life. Even with Daisy’s help, room 303 had taken two hours and all of Mac’s plumbing skills to restore it to pristine condition. Daisy told him that guests who left such messes were permanently banned. Unfortunately, there were plenty of others just like them looking for a place to bust loose for a summer weekend.

When he saw nothing too gross or out of the ordinary in the last room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d already had enough contact with foreign DNA to last a lifetime. As he stripped the bed and quickly remade it, he decided something had to be done about the deplorable way Maddie was treated here. No wonder she’d called her employers bastards. They were!

“Having fun, darling?”

Speak of the devil. His mother leaned against the doorframe. “I’m having a blast.”
 

“This is entirely inappropriate, but of course you know that.”

“How’s it inappropriate for me to help a friend?”

“She’s not your friend! You just met her yesterday, for heaven’s sake.”

“Be careful, Mother. I’m not a child who needs you to define friendship for me.”

“I just don’t understand this, Mac. Why in the world would you want to lower yourself to” —she waved her hand around— “this. . . just to prove a point to me.”

He stopped what he was doing to stare at her, incredulous. “It’s got nothing to do with you! God, you’re unbelievable! You think everything revolves around you.”

“I think no such thing.”

“What I want to know is why Maddie gets all the crappiest rooms. Did that direction come right from you? Or does Ethel do that on her own?” He glanced at her in time to catch her guilty expression. “That ends today. Do you hear me?”

“You can’t come in here and start barking out orders.”

“Do you want my help at the marina?”

She had the good grace to at least squirm a little. “You know I do.”

“Then you’ll make sure she’s treated fairly here from now on, or I swear to God, I won’t lift a hammer down the street.” He had no intention of making good on that threat, because he planned to help his father no matter what. But he could let her think that he’d walk away if it meant improving Maddie’s situation.

“I can’t imagine what’s gotten into you to talk to me like this.”

“I’ve gotten an eyeful of the way you treat one of your employees today, and I don’t care for it.”

“She’s gotten her hooks into you, hasn’t she?”

He released a short bark of laughter as he ran the duster over the tables and dresser. “I wish.”

“What does that mean?”

“She doesn’t seem all that interested in me.”

Linda expelled what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Oh, well, that’s good, I suppose.”

Mac whirled around to face her. “No, it isn’t. I like her. I really
like
her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You could have any woman you want. Just this morning, I talked to Doro Chase. She can’t wait to meet you.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I told her you’re home, and she’d love to meet you. I said I’d set it up.”

“That ain’t happening. I don’t need my mother arranging dates for me.”

“You need something because that woman you’re shacking up with in town is all wrong for you.”

“That woman I’m shacking up with is all
right
for me.” Mac enjoyed watching his mother blanch. “In fact, she’s more right for me than any woman I’ve ever met.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Deciding he’d said enough for now, he grabbed the last of the towels from his basket and headed for the bathroom. “We’ll see you at dinner.” He poked his head out the door and made eye contact with her. “You be nice to her, or I swear you won’t see me again for a long, long time.”

“Honestly. I don’t know what’s happened to you.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to know.” He’d fallen in love with a woman his mother had nothing but disdain for. Any doubt he’d had about the love part had disappeared during the long day at the hotel. He loved her. He wanted her. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He was going to do anything and everything he could to be with her.
 

And if his mother didn’t like it? Too bad.

Mac limped out of the hotel at three thirty. The long night without sleep, the long day without so much as a ten-minute break and the battle with his mother had left him weary and drained. He wanted to go straight back to Maddie’s and sleep until dinner. But first he needed to see his father, so he started the bike and headed for the marina.

The aroma of fried food and diesel fuel blended with sunscreen, dead fish and something being cooked on a grill. A group of boys raced crabs down the ramp into the water, and their shrieks filled the air. Overhead, a flock of seagulls watched the action onboard one of the big powerboats where the day’s catch was being cleaned. Just another summer day at McCarthy’s.

Big Mac sat at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant, surrounded by a crowd that hung on his every word as he retold the story of hooking a great white in Long Island Sound—for what had to be the ten thousandth time since it happened twenty years earlier.

“Not that old fish story again,” Mac interjected.

His father’s face lit up with delight. “Hey! Look who it is! Fellas, meet my oldest boy, Little Mac.”

“Just Mac is fine.” He shook hands with the other men. “I dropped the little part years ago.” To his father, he said, “Got time for a beer?”

“Hmm, fellas, what do you say? Do I have time for a beer with my son?”

“You do own the place,” one of them said drolly.

“That I do. Luke!”

Luke appeared from behind the main building. “Yeah?”

“I’m cutting out. You’re in charge.”

“Right.”
 

“What happened with the shark?” one of the guys asked as Big Mac got up.

“He got away,” Mac said.

“Well, thank God for that.”

“No shit,” Big Mac said with that winning smile of his. “I’ll see you fellas around. Gotta spend some time with my boy.” He put his arm around Mac and led him to the Tiki Bar at the end of the main dock.
 

They pulled up stools at Big Mac’s latest brainstorm. The outdoor bar had been added two summers ago, and from what Mac had heard, it was turning a nice profit.

“Carol Ann, this here’s my boy Mac. He drinks on the house while he’s home. Two of my usual.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. McCarthy,” the pretty young bartender replied.

While she fetched the beers, Mac snorted behind his hand. “She calls you
Mr.
McCarthy?”

“She respects her elders. What can I say?”

Carol Ann put two frosty bottles down in front of them.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Big Mac said without an ounce of guile. Only on Gansett Island could an employer get away with calling a female employee “sweetheart.”

“My pleasure,” she said with a toothy smile, and Mac could see that it was. Everyone loved his father. You couldn’t spend ten minutes in his orbit and not be sucked into his effortless way with people. He was the heart and soul of the place, and Mac couldn’t imagine it without him.
 

Carol Ann moved to the far end of the bar to give them some privacy.

Big Mac tapped his bottle against Mac’s and then took a long drink.

“You’re really gonna sell this place, Dad?”

“I think it’s time,” Big Mac said, but Mac heard the sadness in his voice and saw it on his face. “Your mom wants to travel, get off the island some. You hear about people waiting too long to retire, then one of ’em gets sick. . .” Shrugging, he picked at the label on his bottle.
 

“I can’t imagine someone else owning it, running it.”

“Believe me, neither can I. But I’m not gonna live forever, you know.”

“Don’t say that.”

Big Mac laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

Slipping into contemplative silence, they looked out over the bustling pond, which had thinned out as it always did on Sunday afternoons.
 

“I love this time of day around here,” Big Mac said. “Everyone who’s coming is in, everyone who’s leaving is gone. Most of the work is done for the day. People want to hang out, pass the bull. Hardly feels like work most days.”

Mac knew they came back year after year to see his father, to catch up on the news, to hear the latest stories. He had a way of making each guest feel special, as if he’d been waiting all season just for them to arrive. It occurred to Mac that no one could ever replace him.

They watched Luke guide a latecomer into a spot next to another powerboat. The captain did a nice job of maneuvering the big boat into the tight space. After the boat was tied up, Luke and the captain exchanged a few words. The captain reached for his wallet, pressed a wad of cash into Luke’s hand, and nodded at something Luke said to him. Luke pocketed the cash and made his way back up to the main dock.

Mac watched the exchange with growing dismay. “Tell me that money will make it into the till.” He glanced over to find his father’s face hard and unreadable.

“Eventually, I’m sure.”

“But you don’t know?”

“I hope.”

“Dad! Is he ripping you off?”

“Nah, I pay him plenty. He doesn’t need it.”

Mac wanted to cause a scene but knew his father wouldn’t appreciate it. You could bet that he’d be keeping an eye on Luke while he worked on the renovations.
 

“You know, son,” Big Mac said tentatively, “if you have even the slightest interest in the place, all you have to do is say so. I’d never sell it if you wanted it.”

Mac knew it, but hearing the words made it real. “I know that, Dad.”

“Absolutely no pressure, though. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated. Island life isn’t for everyone. Lord knows you and your brothers split the minute you were old enough.”

“It looks a little different to me this time around, for some reason.” The words were out of his mouth before Mac could ponder the consequences.

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I stayed away too long. Maybe because things in Miami have been beyond insane lately. Or maybe it’s because I met someone yesterday who has my head turned all around.”

“Ahhh,” Big Mac said with a satisfied grin. “Now we’re getting to the heart of the matter.”

Mac smiled. “Remember me asking you how I’d know when the right one came along? You said, ‘You’ll know, son. You’ll just know.’”

“Sounds like something I’d say.”

“Well . . .”

Mac watched the awareness dawn on his father’s face. “No kidding?”

Mac shrugged.

His father’s eyes went shiny. “It’s about time,” he said softly. “Wow, just like that?”

“I took one look at her, and that was that.”

“And we’re talking about Maddie who cleans up the hill?”

“Yeah,” Mac said, still awed by the wonder of it all. Two days ago, he was in Miami. Two days ago, he didn’t even know she existed. And now his every hope and dream was somehow mixed up in her and her son.

“I don’t know her real well, but she seems like a sweetheart of a gal,” Big Mac said. “Had some tough breaks, though.”

“She sure has. And because of that, she’s kind of. . . skittish.”

“Can’t really blame her. That father of hers. . . No one could believe it when he just walked away from his wife and kids. That’s the thing about this place—you can jump on a ferry and run away from it all.”

“I don’t think she ever recovered from that.”

“Who would?”

Mac decided to level with his father. “I’m kind of in uncharted territory here.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re gonna laugh. . .”

His father did just that. “Spill it, boy!”

“It’s just that usually when I like someone, they tend to. . .” Mac combed his fingers impatiently through his hair as he searched for the words. “How can I say this without sounding like a total jackass?”

This time Big Mac howled. “They tend to fall at your feet in gratitude that Mac McCarthy has chosen to give them the time of day?”

“That is
not
what I was going to say!”

His father continued to laugh at his own joke. “Am I warm?”

“Sort of,” Mac said begrudgingly.

That set his father off again.