Secrets on Cedar Key (16 page)

“Some people have a moment in time they would go back to—if they could—to change things, to make the outcome different. I did, and I think Andrew did too. It's not an easy thing to live with.” My mother squeezed my hand. “Before you make any decisions concerning Fiona, I just want you to be sure of your choice. I want you to make that choice, not in judgment or anger, but in full understanding.”

I nodded again and let out a deep sigh. “Thank you. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”

I
arrived at Safe Harbor the next afternoon about fifteen minutes before Worth was due. Before fitting the key into the lock, I stood on the patio staring down to the water. Annalou's story was quite tragic, and I felt sadness that she'd had to resort to taking her own life, but even though I knew that violence and her death had occurred on this property, it didn't sway my decision about purchasing the house. If anything, I probably felt even more convinced that I was meant to live here.

I unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen. The bright red appliances brought a smile to my face. I walked through each room, allowing myself to soak up the energy, and as I had on the afternoon I'd been there with Victoria—I felt good. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

I heard crunching on the gravel and looked through the window to see Worth pull up, then watched as he got out of the car. Rather than walk directly to the door, he stood for a moment gazing out toward the water. This man enjoyed the moments. He didn't rush through his days but took time to truly enjoy the good things in life. I liked him. I liked him a lot. I saw him reach back into the car for something before he headed to the door.

Without waiting for him to knock, I pulled the door open, a huge smile on my face that matched his.

“Hey,” I said. “Welcome to Safe Harbor.”

He surprised me by pulling me into his arms and letting his lips brush mine, before saying, “And congratulations to the new owner of Safe Harbor.” Holding a bag up, he said, “I thought we could celebrate,” and I watched him remove a bottle of champagne.

I laughed. “Gee, I'm not sure I deserve this quite yet. The sale isn't completely official.”

“Close enough. Any glasses here?”

I opened one of the cabinet doors and spied champagne flutes on the top shelf. Leave it to Maybelle. “Right up there, if you can get them down.”

While I rinsed them, Worth expertly popped the cork and then poured the bubbly amber liquid, filling both flutes.

Raising his to touch the rim of mine, he said, “Here's to many years of happiness at Safe Harbor, Marin.”

“Thank you,” I said before taking a sip. “Oh, this is delicious.”

A smile crossed his face. “Glad you like it. Piper-Heidsieck—my favorite.”

“Since you haven't been here for quite a few years, let me show you around.”

After I had done so, we walked back into the family room and I sat on the sofa, where Worth joined me.

“Will you be keeping Maybelle's furniture?” he asked.

“Only the master bedroom set, which I'll have moved into the guest bedroom. Victoria has arranged to have an estate sale in the next couple weeks. I think everything will be ready for me to move in the week after Christmas, so I'll contact a mover and have them pick up my furniture from the storage unit.”

“Sounds good. How's your mother feeling today? Better, I hope.”

I took another sip of champagne and nodded. “Yes, she is.” I let out a sigh. “I found out why she was reluctant for me to purchase this house,” I said, and although I knew I would never share her story about Annalou with anybody else, I felt a need to share it with Worth.

“It really didn't have anything to do with the actual house or even me moving out. I'm afraid there was much more to it. A very sad story, and unfortunately, my mother has carried a lot of guilt for many years.” I proceeded to start at the beginning, and when I finished, Worth shook his head.

“Such a tragic story for both of them. Whatever happened to Annalou's mother and stepfather?”

“My mother said that John Paulson disappeared within a week of Annalou's death. Left the island, and there were rumors that he returned to Alabama. Her mother stayed here a few months and then went to South Carolina to live with her sister.”

“And this house just sat empty?”

“Right. Until they both died and it was put up for sale. That's when Maybelle bought it.”

“Quite a difference having somebody like Maybelle living here. She brought a lot of happiness and laughter to the house, I'm sure. So it doesn't bother you to learn about what happened on the property?”

“No, not at all. Call me silly, but I have the strongest feeling that it's meant to be and I'm the one who is now supposed to live here.”

Worth reached for my hand and clasped it inside of his. “Not at all silly. I think certain places have a way of calling to us. I can't begin to understand it, but I feel that's true.”

Such a simple gesture, having my hand held, and yet it felt so intimate. As if confirming this, Worth brought my hand to his lips and placed a kiss on top. I looked up and saw a smile cross his face.

“I also think certain people have a way of calling to us,” he said. Taking the champagne flute from my hand, he placed it on the table as he moved closer and put his lips on mine. Just like his previous kiss, it began gentle, seeking, and then became deeper and more passionate. When we broke apart, he buried his face in my neck and let out a deep sigh.

“You make me feel good,” he whispered.

Before I had a chance to reply, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, gave me a sheepish look, and said, “Sorry. Caroline.”

I nodded and let out my own sigh as I sat back against the cushion and listened to him talk to his daughter.

“Yes, Caroline. I got it. I had it shipped last week.”

There was a pause before he said, “Trust me, it will be there by the end of the week. In plenty of time.”

Another pause. “Okay. I'll see you soon. Love you too.”

It was obvious Caroline had created another potential problem, but it was the sound of his words—
love you too
—that touched a chord deep inside of me.

He disconnected and took a sip of champagne. “Sorry about that. Caroline has a favorite Southern relish that she loves. Of course it's impossible to get in Paris, so she asked if I'd bring about ten jars over with me when I came. I wasn't about to lug jars of relish on my flight, so I had them shipped.”

Yup, Worthington Slater was definitely a good father. “And she's worried she won't have them?”

“Yeah, but I shipped them priority air, so I know they'll be there in time for a dinner party the night after I arrive. So . . . are you all set for your flight tomorrow?”

“I am. Just a few last-minute things to pack. I have to keep pinching myself, though. I still can't believe I'm actually going.”

Worth let out a laugh. “Oh, you're definitely going. By the way . . . I was going to ask you, how are you getting to the airport tomorrow? I meant to mention this sooner and it slipped my mind. I'd be more than happy to drive you.”

I felt a surge of disappointment. I would have loved for Worth to be the one to drive me to Gainesville. “Oh . . . well . . . uh . . . Chloe had said she'd take me, but . . .” I paused because I didn't want to appear pushy.

Worth reached for my hand again, leaned over, placed a kiss on my lips, and said, “Why don't you give her a call and tell her she doesn't have to make that drive after all. Because I'd like to be the one to see you off.”

I felt a smile cross my face. I liked his plan much better. “It's a deal.”

“Good,” he said, before reaching for the bottle of champagne and replenishing our glasses. “So the reason your mother told you the story about Annalou was because she wanted you to know the real reason why she felt this way about the house?”

“Well, that was part of it,” I told him. “The other part actually had to do with Andrew and Fiona—and forgiveness. I guess she doesn't want me holding it against Fiona for what Andrew did, but she also feels that in order for me to go forward I need to learn to forgive Andrew.”

Worth remained silent for a few moments before saying, “And can you do that?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I'm still not sure. And one of the worst things? He's gone. I can't even ask him
why
. Why he got involved with Bianca.”

“Marin, even if he were still here, you might never have the answer to that question. Maybe
he
had no answer. It just happened. One of those things that we do, in a moment of weakness, and yet. . . there's no turning back.”

He made me wonder if he had firsthand experience with this, but I also recalled what my mother had said about that one moment in time we wish we could go back to and change. Maybe being with Bianca was that moment for Andrew.

I nodded. “Hmm. You could be right.”

W
hen I opened my eyes Monday morning, I knew immediately that I was about to embark on a journey that would possibly change the rest of my life. And although I was beyond excited about finally returning to Paris, I felt it was about so much more than just my trip. I rolled over, glanced at the clock, and saw that it was almost seven.

I was surprised to see my mother already sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of her.

“Up early,” I said, heading to the coffeemaker. “Sleep okay?”

“Very well, actually. I think I'm just excited for you and your trip today.”

I smiled and joined her. “I know. It's hard to believe I actually did it—made it happen.”

“You're going to have a wonderful visit to Paris. Any particular plans?”

“Not really. Returning to a few museums that I enjoyed years ago, doing some Christmas shopping, and just soaking up Paris.”

My mother nodded. “I have no doubt you'll enjoy every second, and I hope you'll return home feeling renewed and refreshed.”

She didn't say it, but I had a feeling that she also hoped when I returned home a decision would be made concerning Fiona.

“What time is Worth picking you up?”

“Ten. My flight leaves for Atlanta at twelve-thirty and I'll have about a four-hour layover before the Paris flight.”

I thought of my call to Chloe the night before, telling her that Worth had offered to drive me to the airport today. She was more than fine with it, joking with me. “Let's see,” she said, “me or a very handsome man, who, by the way, is definitely developing an interest in you? Gee, I'd say the handsome man wins.” A smile crossed my face at the thought that perhaps Chloe was right about the interest Worth was showing. And it made me feel good.

My mother got up to remove something from the oven. “I have some cranberry muffins I made this morning. As soon as they cool a bit, we can have one with coffee.”

The wonderful aroma of baking filled the kitchen, and for a split second I felt a bit nostalgic knowing that Thursday was Thanksgiving and I wouldn't be here. But I pushed it aside and knew that no matter what I was doing on Thursday in Paris—I would be where I was supposed to be.

“I had an idea,” my mother said. “But I wanted to ask you first and see what you think.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you're going to be in Paris on Thursday . . . and as far as I know, Worth doesn't have any family here . . . so I was wondering if you thought it might be okay to invite him to Sydney's for dinner. I already spoke with her, and she said she and Noah would love to have him.”

I hadn't even given that a thought—where Worth would be spending the holiday. “Oh, I think that's a great idea. And very thoughtful of you to consider him. Absolutely. You can invite him when he comes to get me this morning.”

“Good. I'd hate to think he'd be spending Thanksgiving alone.”

It made me feel good to know that even though I wouldn't be here, Worth would be spending the day with my family.

After more coffee and a muffin, I headed to the shower. A little before ten, I was zipping up my checked piece of luggage. Looking in the mirror, I decided that my outfit would be both comfortable and practical for my flights. Black slacks, gray cashmere pullover sweater, black wool blazer, beige alpaca scarf, and comfortable black leather loafers for all the airport walking. I peeked inside my red Namaste bag one more time to be sure I had everything I needed in my carry-on piece. Passport. I smiled and gave myself silent kudos for always renewing my passport over the years and not letting it lapse. My knitting, e-book reader, iPad, glasses, wallet, makeup, and a few other items. All set. I let out a deep breath, looked around my room, grabbed the handle of my wheeled luggage, and headed to the family room.

A few minutes later, right on time, Worth rang the doorbell.

“Good morning,” he said, stepping inside and placing a kiss on my cheek. “Your chauffeur is here.”

“You certainly are prompt,” I heard my mother say behind me.

“Well, we can't have our girl missing that flight to Paris this evening,” he said.

Our
girl? I liked the sound of that.

“And you have everything?” my mother questioned. “Your euros, passport, directions to the apartment?”

I let out a chuckle. I felt like a ten-year-old heading off to summer camp. “I do. I have enough euros to get me through the first day. Worth told me about a place near Notre Dame where I'll get a good exchange, and I've double-checked. I'm all set.”

“Okay, then,” my mother said and pulled me into an embrace. “Oh, Worth. I wanted to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner at Sydney and Noah's house. She wanted me to extend an invitation. If you have no other plans.”

A smile lit up his face. “No, I don't. Thank you, and I appreciate it.”

“Good. Sydney said around two.”

“How about if I pick you up and escort you there? A little before two?”

A smile now lit up my mother's face as she said, “That would be great.”

“See you then,” Worth said as he reached for my piece of luggage and headed out to the car.

My mother gave me another hug and kissed my cheek. “Bon voyage, Marin. Have a good flight and a wonderful time.”

“I will, and I'll call you tomorrow from the apartment after I get settled in.”

I slid into the passenger seat and looked at Worth. “Gainesville Airport, please.”

He backed out of the driveway and smiled. “The airport it is.”

 

Worth pulled up to the curb, got out, removed my piece of luggage, and said, “I'm just going to park and I'll meet you inside.”

Before I had a chance to say anything, he was pulling away, heading for the small parking area. I hadn't realized that he planned to stay with me while I waited for my flight to Atlanta, but I was happy he was choosing to do so.

I walked into the small terminal and smiled. I loved a regional airport. Large enough to be able to get a connecting flight somewhere, but small enough to avoid long lines in security or at the boarding gate. I felt Worth's hand on my shoulder.

“You still have over an hour till your flight leaves. Why don't you get checked in and then we can grab a coffee.”

“Sounds good,” I said, walking to the ticket counter.

After we got our coffee, we headed to a small table.

“I was able to check my bag all the way through to Charles de Gaulle.”

“Oh, that's good. It'll avoid a hassle when you get to Atlanta.”

“Right. I'll find a place to have dinner after I go through security there.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Call me after you've had dinner and you're at the gate?”

“Okay,” I said and felt him reach across the table for my hand.

“I'm going to miss you. It'll seem strange not to see you at the yarn shop while I'm there working.”

I realized that he was right. Maybe we had only met not quite two months ago, but we had spent a large amount of time together. And most of it had been quality time—really getting to know each other.

“I'll miss you too,” I said softly.

Almost as if he felt bad for possibly putting a blemish on my trip, he gave my hand a squeeze and said, “But just think, one week from tomorrow, I'll be there with you. In the most . . . in the City of Light.”

Was he going to say in the most
romantic
city in the world?

I nodded and smiled. “Right, and I look forward to you being there with me.”

“I hope so.”

Before I knew it, it was time for me to board and begin the first leg of my journey.

Worth led me away from the crowd before I headed to security. He put his arms around me and then he cupped my face in his hands. Staring into my eyes, he said, “Have a wonderful flight, Marin. I'll be there with you before you know it.” And then he proceeded to leave me with a kiss that was far from innocent—a kiss that gave a promise of more to come.

I got in line, inched my way forward, and turned around to give Worth a final wave. He smiled and then did something that I found incredibly sexy, something that stirred me, something no other man had ever done to me. He put his fingers to his lips, gestured his hand toward me—and blew me a kiss.