Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (36 page)

“Marina. I am twelve years older than you. You are ten years older than Abbie, twelve years older than Emma, and eighteen years older than Lily. Maybe you should be with a man closer to your age.”

“Oh, Jim!” Marina went speechless.

“I need you to be on my side against these girls,” Jim continued. “I can’t even consider what it would be like otherwise. Have you thought ahead to what’s going to happen when Emma confronts Lily?”

“But Lily was
wrong
!” Marina insisted. “She acted like a little rat, a little weasel! Calling the cops on her own sister!”

“More like calling the cops on her own sister and you,” Jim quietly pointed out.

“What does that mean?”

“Think about it. Did Emma confide in Lily? Did she ask Lily to go with her to get the baskets? No. Emma confided in you. She teamed up with you. And now, when we go into the house, you’re going to be on Emma’s side, against Lily.”

“But Lily—”

“If you move in with me, it will be like Emma having an ally and Lily having an enemy.”

“Oh, my Lord.” Marina leaned her head back against the seat. “This is like some labyrinthine medieval conspiracy.”

“Well, that’s a pretty accurate description of what it’s like, having daughters. Having children in general, I’d imagine.” Reaching out, he gently stroked Marina’s shoulder, relenting. “I’m not saying it’s always like this,” he chuckled. “Sometimes it’s the three of them against me.”

Marina laid the side of her face against his hand.

“I’m not saying you would ever be called upon to discipline one of the girls. I mean, they’re women now. They come and go, they’re inventing their own lives. When the summer’s over, they might all be gone, or they might all stay on. If you move into the house with me—”

“When,”
Marina corrected, brushing her lips against his hand.

“When you move into the house with me, you can bet there’ll be some kind of dramatic crisis, probably with lots of weeping and name calling. I mean, remember how rude Lily was when she saw you had on that bedspread of Danielle’s.”

“She was a bit extreme.”

“I know that. And I love her just as much as I love Abbie and Emma.”

Marina considered this. “I’m not sure I can love all three girls the same.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Jim told her. “I just want you to love me the most. I just want you to be clear about it, that you’re on my side.”

Marina nodded. “I can do that. I want to do that. I want to be on your side, Jim.” She moved toward him. “Actually, right now I’d kind of like to be on your—” leaning over, she whispered the word against his lips.

The house was unusually still. At the end of the hall, light bloomed from the kitchen. They walked through the house and found Abbie and Lily seated at the kitchen table, both obviously exhausted.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked.

Abbie stared, without speaking, at the table.

Lily answered. “Abbie took Harry, the little boy she’s been babysitting, to the fair. He fell off his carousel horse, hit his head, and scratched his face. It terrified both of them. She took him to the hospital—” Seeing the fear on her father’s face, Lily hastily added, “Harry’s okay. The doctor said he was okay. And he was normal all day, and now he’s asleep and his mother is with him.”

“Oh, Abbie.” Marina put her hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “How frightening for you. But he’s okay, that’s the important thing.”

Abbie said, in a dull voice, “I know.”

“Was his mother mean to you? Did she—”

Jim interrupted. “Marina, let’s go out to your cottage and get that article we talked about.”

Puzzled, Marina said, “What article?” Then she saw his face. “Oh. Right.”

They went out the back door and walked in silence to Marina’s
cottage. Once inside, Marina turned to Jim. “Is there a problem? Did I do something wrong?”

“Marina—” Jim ran his hand through his hair and paced across the small space, stopping at the other side of the room. “I’ve heard the girls talking. I’m pretty sure Abbie’s having an affair with Harry’s father. No one’s asked my opinion, Abbie hasn’t come to ask my advice, she hasn’t confided in me, and she’s an adult now, and God knows I’ve made my share of mistakes. But I don’t like Abbie being involved with a married man.”

“I see.” Marina crossed the room and leaned against Jim, wrapping her arms around him. “Goodness. What a dramatic evening your women have given you. Aren’t you exhausted?”

He nuzzled his chin on the top of her head. “I’d like to take you to bed right now. But I think we’d better wait until Emma comes home.”

Marina paused. Part of her really wanted to join Emma when she got back, to tell Abbie about their adventure with the lightship baskets. Emma would be furious at Lily, but she would calm down. Marina could imagine all of them sitting around the kitchen table, laughing. She felt she had become part of their lives. It seemed only natural for her to be with them.

But really, it was Jim she wanted to be with, to belong to. He had asked her to choose between him and his daughters, and she understood the wisdom of that choice.

“Let’s sneak in the front door and into the living room and see if the Red Sox game is still on,” she suggested with a grin.

“Brilliant idea,” Jim agreed. He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked together, companions, through the night to the front of the house.

After Marina and their father left the kitchen, Abbie remained at the table, paralyzed by her emotions.

Lily bustled importantly around the kitchen. “Here, Abbie.” She set a mug in front of Abbie. “Drink this.”

“Not thirsty.”

Abbie couldn’t stop her mind from relentlessy replaying the events of the day: Harry dropping his seahorse, Abbie taking her hand from his back for just a moment, bending down, the tinkling music, the way the horses rose up and down and up and down, the terrible sound of Harry’s head hitting the horse and his body hitting the wooden platform. Harry, limp in her arms.

But Harry was okay. He was fine. He had not been seriously hurt. That was the important thing.

But not the only thing. Harry had wanted his mommy. All day long, he had wanted his mommy.

Perhaps tomorrow Harry would ask to see Abbie. “Where’s Nanny Abbie?” he would ask. Abbie’s eyes welled with tears. But when he was hurt, when he was scared, he wanted his mommy.

The truly terrible thing was that deep in her deepest heart of hearts, Abbie’s own feelings were hurt. She was jealous, jealous of Harry’s need for his mommy, jealous of Sydney’s irrevocable position in Harry’s life, jealous of the way Sydney spoke with Howell tonight
on the phone, jealous of the original basic triangle of mother/daddy/child. Her jealousy provoked a blizzard of questions and fears: What right had Abbie to think she could step into the middle of Harry’s family? If she
really
loved Harry—and she did—then how could she even consider causing a divorce between the child’s parents? She knew only too well how painful life could be when the normal family pattern was torn apart. The only logical, loving, right thing to do would be to step aside, away from Howell and Harry.

Near her, Lily continued to babble cheerfully, like some kind of bizarre nurse in her high heels and gorgeous silk dress. “Drink the tea, Abbie. You need it. And when did you eat last? Never mind. I’m making you some cinnamon toast.”

Lily prepared the toast just the way the sisters loved it, bread slathered with butter and sugar and cinnamon and put under the broiler for a few seconds, until the sweet smell swirled through the kitchen and everything had melted into a luscious thick crunch. The toast was the smell of comfort, the taste of love, the warmth of healing.

When proudly Lily put the plate of toast in front of her, Abbie discovered she was actually hungry. She looked at the clock. Good grief, it was almost midnight. She took a bite of the toast, and flavor flooded her mouth.

“Thanks, Lily,” she said. “And thank you for leaving a party to come help me.”

Lily smiled. “You’re welcome. I was glad to do it. Abbie—”

The front door slammed and Emma stormed into the kitchen. When she saw Lily, her eyes went wide.

Emma glared at Lily. “You little bitch. I can’t believe what you did.”

Lily’s voice was suddenly small and high. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

Abbie dropped her toast on her plate and looked from one sister to the other. “What—”

Emma shook her head. “Don’t you dare go into your little girl routine, Lily. You’re not any of that. You’re not a little girl. You are a woman. A woman who makes decisions. And you decided to hurt me as much as you could—and why? What did I ever do to you?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said miserably.

Abbie asked, “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” When Emma turned to face Abbie, her freckles stood out on her skin as if they’d been drawn with black markers. “You haven’t heard? Didn’t Marina tell you that she and I were
arrested
because Lily called the police?”

“You were
arrested
? For what?” Abbie glanced from Emma to Lily, seeking an explanation.

“Marina and I planned to smuggle Mrs. Bracebridge’s lightship baskets from her house tonight and take them to Sheila to be valued, because I was pretty sure some of the baskets had been stolen and replaced with new ones.” Emma was spitting as she talked. “I wanted to be sure of this before telling Mrs. Bracebridge about it, or rather, Spencer, because I thought it was his mother who was doing it, and I didn’t want to upset everyone if I was wrong. And Marina said she’d help me carry them, they’re so bulky, and we called Sheila and agreed on a time to bring them over, and Marina and I went over there at nine tonight—and
Lily
called the fucking police to tell them there would be a theft at the Bracebridge house!”

Abbie gawked at Lily. “God, Lily. Why would you do that?”

Lily bit her lip and cringed.

Emma continued, “We were taken to the police station! We had to ride in the back of the police car with those scary doors that don’t open from the inside. We had to drag Sheila into this, and Spencer and Dad. What kind of person calls the police on her sister?” Emma demanded. “Tell me, Lily. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Lily’s chest heaved. “Maybe I was just jealous that you chose Marina instead of me. I never dreamed they’d
arrest
you. I only thought they’d give you a good scare. I didn’t think it through.” Lily’s face was blotchy with emotion. “I am so sorry. I am so so sorry.”

“Well, I’ll never forgive you for this, Lily. I’ll never trust you again in my life.”

“Hey, Emma, come on.” Abbie rose from the table, crossed the room, and put one arm around Lily, who was crying now. “Back off, Emma. Calm down. Come on. You’re not in jail, are you?”

“Oh,
nice
, Abbie, side with
her
, protect your little baby sister.
The little princess.
” Emma took a few steps away from Lily and stood for a moment catching her breath. After a long moment of silence, Emma confessed, “I was so
frightened
in that police car. I had a panic
attack. It was awful. It’s
awful
being trapped in a car and you can’t get out; all I could think was what if there’s an accident, I can’t get out!”

“Oh, Em, I never meant for that to happen,” Lily said. “I didn’t think anything like that would happen.”

“It was so
mean
of you, Lily,” Emma said and now she was weeping. “Why would you do something so mean to me? You must hate me.”

“But I don’t hate you!” Lily protested.

“Well,” Emma’s voice was thick with emotion. “
I
hate
you.
” She turned and left the room.

Emma had agreed to help Marcia with her landscaping business this weekend, and as she dragged herself out of bed at five-thirty Saturday morning, she was glad. She hadn’t slept well, and it was a relief to see the dawn, to leave her hot, tangled sheets. She wanted to get out of the house before either of her sisters woke. She was so mad at Lily it made her jaw clench until her teeth ached, and she wasn’t pleased with Abbie, either.