Summer Beach Reads 5-Book Bundle: Beachcombers, Heat Wave, Moon Shell Beach, Summer House, Summer Breeze (47 page)

“But perhaps the most unusual,” Emma assured him.

Spencer laughed. Then, more soberly, he said, “I’m not trying to rush you, Emma. I don’t want you to answer yet. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to marry me. I know I’ve got the strangest, most dysfunctional family in the world. You’ve seen my mother in action. And I want to live on this island, and that means I’ll always be within Mother’s striking range. Does that frighten you?”

Emma started to reply, but the question was a serious one, and she took a moment to consider it. She had never discussed the
thorny subject of money with Duncan. She had always glibly pretended to be comfortable around people with lots of money, and for the few years she’d lived in Boston, she’d felt certain she was going to make a nice fat bunch of money for herself and her family and belong to that golden group.

“I do think,” she said slowly, thinking aloud, “that your mother will never accept me. I don’t come from money. Our family doesn’t have the kind of money you do.”

“Let me just remind you that my mother doesn’t even have the kind of money she acts like she has. That’s why she tried to steal those lightship baskets. She’s always trying to sell off something so she can have more ready cash.”

Emma nodded. “Still. Still … Spencer, I think I’m a little afraid of people like you.”

“Because we have an old family name? I am proud of being a Bracebridge. It’s one of the reasons I know so much history. But other than that—my father is dead. My mother is a terrible snob. My brother and sister have moved away and hardly keep in touch. Plus, they don’t give a fig about Nantucket. My mother fights with my grandmother all the time. Since my brother and sister have abandoned me, my mother focuses way too much of her energy on trying to run my life. And I’m afraid I love my grandmother more than I love my mother.” He paused, and with a wry smile said, “Actually, now that I’ve enumerated all our charms, I can see why you’d be afraid of us.”

Now Emma smiled. “Oh, Spencer, I’ve got a pretty odd family, too. Perhaps everyone thinks their family’s odd.” She laughed. “Perhaps every family
is
odd.”

“You can’t build a straight house out of crooked wood, but you can build a very cozy crooked house,” Spencer said. “Grams used to say that all the time. The house Grams lives in will have to be sold when she dies, and the money will be divided up among my siblings and me. I’ll never be rich, Emma, but I think I’ll be comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” Emma echoed. She ran her thumb over Spencer’s hand. “I like this, Spencer, I like talking about all the real stuff.” Suddenly, sitting there naked with a sheet wrapped around her, she remembered—“Actually, my own family is in its own crisis right now. My father has met someone, at last, a really nice woman
who makes him happy. Spencer, I need to take a quick shower and get back home.”

“I’d like to meet your family. Outside of the police station, I mean.” He grinned.

“Oh Lord,” Emma moaned.

Spencer stood up. “You shower, I’ll make coffee.”

Abbie took Harry upstairs to help him brush his teeth and dress for the day. She really wanted to tuck him under her arm and run. Or maybe just hide in the closet. She heard the front door open and slam shut.

“Mommy’s home,” she told Harry.

“Mommy!”
Harry raced down the stairs.

Abbie followed, her heart triple-timing in her chest.

“Hello, Big Guy.” In the front hall, Sydney performed an admirably graceful squat, given the tightness of her suit and the height of her heels. Harry ran into her arms. She hugged him and kissed the top of his head.

Then she noticed Abbie standing on the stairs. “What are you doing here so early?” she demanded.

“Sydney.” Howell came into the hall, a kitchen towel in his hand. “We need to talk.”

Sydney narrowed her eyes. She glared at Howell, then at Abbie, then back at Howell. She rose up, tall in her high heels, thin as a whip. “So that’s what’s going on.” She snorted. “Unbelievable! You and the nanny are having a little fling.”

“It’s not a fling,” Howell objected, adding, “and let’s not do this in front of our son.”

“I think
fling
is actually a rather perfect way of putting it,”
Sydney snapped, “and why not do it in front of Harry? I imagine you two have been doing lots of things in front of Harry.”

“Harry!” Howell reached for his son’s hand. “We’re going to have some adult time, so you get to watch television.”

Harry pulled away, reluctant.

Howell persisted. “In fact, I’m going to give you the remote control. You can change channels all you want.”

At this, Harry’s face lit up.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Sydney stalked away from the rest of them.

Howell led Harry into the living room and settled him on the sofa. Abbie took a deep breath and followed Sydney into the kitchen. Howell’s wife was leaning against the counter, her arms crossed, her face bitter.

Sydney raked her gaze over Abbie’s face. “Well, aren’t you the little multitasker. I have to say I’m surprised you’ve caught Howell’s eye. You’re hardly a femme fatale.”

Abbie didn’t reply. She understood Sydney’s anger.

“It’s a cliché, you know,” Sydney sneered. “The boss screwing the help.”

Howell entered the room. “Sydney, let’s not talk that way.”

“Oh, listen to you, so civilized and refined. You can screw the nanny but you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I want to marry Abbie,” Howell announced. “I love her, and I think she’s good for Harry.”

Sydney shook her head like a boxer who’s been stunned by an unexpected blow. “You want to
marry
her? Good God, Howell, you really are full of surprises.” Then she smiled triumphantly. “And
she
is why you want a divorce?” Sydney really had a remarkable voice, as clear as a bell, and full of confidence. “Howell, you are such a loser.
I’m
the one who wants a divorce! You want to shack up with a babysitter. But I’m going to marry the next senator for New York State.”

Howell seemed genuinely amazed. “Everett Candelli? You’ve been seeing Everett Candelli?”

“What?” Now Sydney’s voice was gleeful. “You think someone that important wouldn’t notice a little ol’ lawyer?”

Oh, man!
Abbie felt like a kite swept up in a gale of fresh, intoxicating air.
Oh, man, Sydney wants a divorce, too!

“I’m impressed,” Howell said. “Everett is a remarkable man and a great public servant. I’m glad for you, Sydney.”

“The hell you are. You’re just relieved that you won’t have a nasty divorce and custody case to deal with.”

“Well,” Howell admitted, “that’s true, too.”

“Daddy,” Harry called. “The remote doesn’t work.”

Howell looked frustrated. “Okay, kid, I’m coming.” He left the room.

Abbie found Sydney’s angry eyes latched on to her face. She sucked up her courage and found her voice. She said the one true thing that would matter to the other woman. “I love Harry. I want you to know that.”

“Like you have any idea what maternal love is,” Sydney snapped. “Sweet little you, all innocent and eager! You’re just a hopeless girl, you can’t imagine what it takes to be a mother.”

“Actually, I can,” Abbie began.

“Being a nanny is
nothing
like being a mother!” Sydney exploded. “You worry all the fucking time! Vigilance, intelligence, all your best intentions, none of that matters! It doesn’t stop when you go to sleep, it never stops! You are going to be so
swamped
if you take on Harry. You won’t sleep at night, you won’t know what to do when he gets sick, hell,
you
can’t even take him on a fucking carousel! It’s hard work, sometimes it’s hopeless and heartbreaking! You feel like you never get anything right! But look at you, you think you know how to be a mother!”

Abbie could understand the woman’s rage, and it was with consideration of the mother Sydney was that Abbie said quietly, “My own mother died when I was fifteen. I pretty much raised my two sisters.”

“That’s hardly the same!” Sydney retorted. Suddenly she collapsed in a chair and rubbed her hands over her face. “But that’s too bad. It must have been hard for you.” She studied Abbie for a long moment, her eyes penetrating and critical. Finally, she said, “Oh, fuck it, what do I know? You’ve been good with Harry. I can tell he feels loved by you. Damn it all, you’ll probably be a decent stepmother.”

“I will,” Abbie promised in a hushed voice.

“All right, do me a favor,” Sydney said. “Take Harry somewhere so Howell and I can talk. We’ve got a lot of details to iron out.”

Abbie hesitated. “Okay.”

Howell and Harry were still in the living room, struggling with the stalled remote control. They looked up at her, the lines of their faces, the fall of their hair, and their hopeful expressions so much alike it made Abbie smile.

“You know what?” Abbie said. “Forget the TV, Harry. I’m going to take you to my house to meet my family.”

Howell looked relieved. “Good idea.” He added, “Come back by lunchtime, okay?”

Abbie nodded and took Harry’s hand. “Okay.”

They stepped out into the gusty day. Abbie’s spirits swirled like the wind and she was almost running, tugging Harry along. “You’ll love my house, Harry. I’ve got lots of cool things for you to see. We’ve got seashells and dolls and a cat named Cinnamon and a Playhouse!”

“You’re silly today,” Harry giggled.

“Harry, I’m absolutely slaphappy!” she agreed.

Marina said, “I’m okay, now, Jim.” She pulled away from him, slightly embarrassed that they were sitting on the side of the busy airport road, wrapped up in each other like a pair of high school lovers while half of Nantucket drove past, gawking.

Still, Jim’s embrace was very nice.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

She liked the sound of that, going
home.
“Absolutely.”

He pulled the truck back out onto the road and headed back to town. He steered with one hand and kept the other on Marina’s thigh. “I think I’ll skip work this morning.”

“Really?” Marina turned toward him and touched the side of his face. She felt so close to him, so happy with her choice, as if finally she’d stepped away from her past and crossed the threshold into her future.

“Well …” For a few moments, Jim seemed at a loss for words. “Marina. I know what kind of a decision you made just now. How hard it must have been for you. And God, I’m glad you chose me. Us. Here. I think you were brave. I don’t think this is any kind of a normal day, and I don’t want to go rushing off to work.”

Marina touched his face gently with her fingertips. “Jim.”

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. “Besides, I’ve just had a contract signed and a payment made for a major
renovation on a huge old house, so I can take a little time for myself.” He turned to Marina with a grin. “And you know what? I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten for days.”

Marina laughed. “I’m hungry, too. I bought eggs yesterday. I’ll make us scrambled eggs … protein for energy!” She was so
pleased
with how hungry she felt, hungry and euphoric and healthy and right.

“What’s so funny?” Jim asked.

“Nothing,” she told him. “Everything. I think I’m a little berserk. The past few hours have been pretty intense. And now I just feel really good!”

They held hands as they walked to the house. The warm aroma of coffee still lingered in the air, but the house was quiet.

“The girls have gone,” Jim said.

“I don’t think Emma was here last night,” Marina told him. She got out a mixing bowl and the eggs, and it was so satisfying, how perfectly an egg fit into her hand, how smooth it was, how real and comforting and nourishing, this simple thing.

“Hello!” The front door slammed and a moment later Abbie was there, holding hands with a little boy.

“Hi, guys!” Abbie lifted the child up into her arms. “This is Harry! Harry, this is my dad, Jim. And Dad’s friend, Marina.” As everyone said hello, Abbie studied her father and Marina. “So they’ve gone?”

“We just put them on the plane,” Jim said.