Left Turn at Paradise Page 29

  By the fourth sleepless night she’d had enough. She grabbed her phone and dialed Noah’s cell.

  “Hello?” a male voice answered on the other end.

  “You’re the only person I could think of who would be awake at this hour,” she said. “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Sandy Cove. Why?”

  “Seriously?” Sandy Cove happened to be where Shellwater Key’s richest citizens lived. Every home had a boat out back and a luxury car out front. Tammy-Lynn and T.J. lived there as did their influential families. “Is that your secret? Are you a closet millionaire?”

  He chuckled. “I live in a guest house.”

  “The pool boy. Interesting. Get dressed; I’m coming to pick you up.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “No idea yet. I just know I’ll go crazy if I stay cooped up in this house any longer. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  She pulled up in front of a white, two-story, McMansion eight minutes later. Noah emerged from the side of the house, and slipped into the passenger seat.

  “I can’t wait for Grayson to come back,” he said. “You should be doing this with him.”

  “I don’t know if he is coming back, or if I even want him to.” She threw the car in reverse and backed out, tires squealing. “I’m almost to the point of wishing he’d rot in a fiery pit.”

  “Almost?” he asked, shifting closer to the door.

  “I have him right on the edge,” she said, taking the turn at the gates of Sandy Cove like she was in the last lap of the Indy 500.

  “He will, and you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so testy.” He gripped the door handle. “Are we in a race?”

  “Testy? I suppose I should be grateful that’s all I’ve been.”

  “I was being polite,” he drawled. “There’s another word I’d use, but my mother would wash my mouth out with soap if I did.”

  Layla chuckled. “You’re still scared of your mother?”

  “You’d better believe it.”

  She took pity on her poor passenger and slowed down. “So, tell me how you came to be a pool boy living behind a McMansion?”

  “I’m not the pool boy. I’m just renting the guest house.”

  “Even a guest house would be out of sight in Sandy Cove.”

  “The house belongs to a wealthy widow. I take care of the property in exchange for a low rent.”

  Her eyes shifted toward him. “How is that not like a pool boy?”

  “More like a handy man,” he said, flashing a grin in the dark.

  “Are you more than a handy man for this rich widow?”

  He shot her a withering, ‘don’t go there’ glare.

  “Come on, you’re a young, good-looking guy,” she said. “She’s lonely and has money to spare on a boy toy.”

  “She’s seventy-four.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s perfectly innocent. Have you figured out where we’re going?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  They reached The Strip and headed north. Once past downtown, she made two more turns and then pulled into the parking lot of Shellwater Key Elementary.

  His head swiveled around. “Here?”

  “Yep,” she said and jumped out of the car. In the darkness, the school buildings looked like giant, black monoliths. She didn’t head toward them, though. Instead, she skirted around the edge until they reached the playground.

  “How do we get in?” Noah asked, indicating the fence surrounding the perimeter.

  “Over the wall.” She made the jump, and then looked back.

  He hadn’t moved. “Are we supposed to be in here?” he asked, resting his hands on his hips. “What if we get caught?”

  She put a finger to her chin as if in deep thought. “Let me guess. You were a Boy Scout, right?”

  “Eagle Scout, actually, and I’d rather not go to jail.”

  Of course he was. “Just get over here, Dudley Do Right.” She pivoted and headed for the swings. A moment later she heard a soft thud behind her.

  “Just so I know… who should we call if we get arrested for trespassing?” Noah asked. “Your boyfriend is out of town, and your grandmother is the kind of woman who’d make us stay in jail overnight just to teach us a lesson.”

  “Grayson isn’t my boyfriend.”

  “What is he then?”

  “He’s the man who dumped me for his ex-wife. The same ex-wife who dumped him in the most humiliating and public way possible. I’d say that makes him an idiot and me a stupid idiot,” she said, choosing a swing. She pumped her legs, enjoying the sensation of the wind on her bare legs.

  “You don’t know that he’s dumped you,” Noah pointed out. “I thought he left to try and take care of the Skye problem.”

  She whipped her head toward him. “Have you talked to Grayson?”

  “No, but Annaliese has talked to me.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you the father confessor of every woman in Shellwater Key?”

  “Only the ones you know. For some reason those in your inner circle are seeking guidance. Usually about you.” Noah took the swing next to her. “Your mother would probably laugh if we got arrested.”

  “Thus proving I am my mother’s daughter?”

  The old set began to creak and groan as they went higher. “Still working on that bitterness thing?”

  “I do try, but I keep getting hit with more things to feel bitter about,” Layla said, enjoying the sensation of the breeze on her face.

  “Not everything has been bad. What about your father? Most people don’t suddenly gain a whole new family. It’s usually the opposite. Losing the ones you love.”

  “So I’m lucky?”

  Noah stopped pumping his legs, letting the swing come to a stop. “More than you can ever imagine,” he said, staring out into the darkness.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to turn you into a vagabond? The way you talk about your family it seems like you’re close to them.”

  His eyes closed. “We’re here to work out your problems.”

  “I can return the favor. Maybe I can help you?”

  His sigh was soul deep and so filled with sadness and longing that it nearly broke Layla’s heart. “There’s nothing you can do about my problems. Nothing anyone can do. You, however, can be helped.”

  “You can’t make this go away.”

  He shook his head. “No, but I can help you see this situation from a different perspective,” he said. “Your new family could have rejected you.”

  “I half-suspected they would.”

  “There’s your cheerful nature shining through.”

  Her feet went almost straight up in the air. “I’m a pessimist. Sue me. I guess it’s a good thing my father isn’t married anymore. His wife might not have been so accepting of a daughter he had with an old flame. How’s that for looking on the bright side?”

  “It’s a bright side when it comes to your parents,” Noah said, with a chuckle. “It’s like middle school whenever they’re around each other. I keep expecting one of them to give me a note to pass during recess to see if the other likes them.”

  Layla groaned. “I’d hoped I was the only one who noticed.”

  “Maybe a blind person would miss it.”

  She pumped her legs until her head cleared the top bar, then on the next pass she jumped. She hit the ground and rolled to keep from breaking anything important. She ended up on her back staring at the stars.

  “Layla!” Noah shot out of the swing and knelt down next to her. “Layla, are you all right?”

  Her dignity was bruised, along with most of her side. “Yeah,” she bit out. “I used to be better at the dismount.”

  “Don’t ever do that again.” He blew out a breath and collapsed on the sand next to her. “Are you crazy?”

  “Could be,” she said, flinging an arm across her face
. “It might run in the family. It’s not normal to see your parents acting like teenagers.”

  “That’s probably the only way they know how to be.”

  She dropped her arm. “Do you think they’ll wind up back together?” she asked, unable to suppress a shudder. Parents and romance were two things she didn’t want to think about. Ever.

  Noah propped himself up on his forearms. “Who knows? So much time has passed. They aren’t the same people anymore. Right now they’re caught up in memories. It’s hard to tell if they’ll be able to move past that to a real relationship in the here and now.”

  “Beth was flirting with him the other day,” Layla said, with no small amount of dismay. “She asked him to help her carry a box from the car, going on about how she was still too weak to lift heavy things and how she’d missed having a strong man around to help. I think she actually batted her eyelashes.”

  “Nice to know she hasn’t lost her touch. She’s probably relieved to know it, too.”

  “Maybe it’s just her way.”

  He nudged her with his foot. “She lost her looks, her breasts, and nearly her life to a deadly disease. She was probably afraid she’d lost everything that made her a woman. If she can find some enjoyment and complete the healing process, how can we find fault with that?”

  She scowled at him. “Why do you always have to make me feel like a jerk?”

  “I told you, I’m trying to get you to see things from a different perspective. Yours is clouded by anger and judgment.”

  “Harsh.” Layla rolled to her stomach and propped herself up onto her elbows.

  “You called me. Do you want me to say only the things you want to hear?”

  “I wouldn’t object to some sympathy,” she said, knowing she sounded like a cranky toddler who’d missed a nap.

  “You have it,” he said, his tone gentler. “You’re actually handling things pretty well, all things considered.”

  “A compliment,” she said, eyes widening in mock wonder. “Wow.”

  “You should be complimented. You’ve endured a lot.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re laying it on thick now.”

  He chuckled.

  “What?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, just kept on laughing.

  “Come on,” she said.

  “You sounded so much like your mother right then. She can’t take praise, either. For someone who was so well-known for her beauty it’s surprising.”

  “Unless that’s the only reason a person ever compliments you.”

  He sat up, but leaned back on his hands. “I can see that. Being around your father is probably the best thing for her right now.”

  “Why? So she can practice her moves on him?”

  “No.” He leveled a ‘be nice’ glare at her. “Because he doesn’t care that she looks different. He sees her for who she really is. He might be the only person who ever has. She needs to know that there are men out there who will cherish a woman the way she deserves. Even if they don’t get back together, she needs to realize that.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because she’s been used by men for most of her life.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “She’s told me some. I guessed about a lot more.”

  A brow winged in the air. “You really are everyone’s confidant.”

  “It’s my curse,” he said. “Everywhere I go, people want to tell me their secrets.”

  “It’s because you’re an angel,” she said, with a grin.

  He shook his head. “Not even close.”

  She sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “What did she tell you?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?” he challenged. “You might find that you have even more in common.”

  Layla thought of the binge she’d gone on during college, the string of men she’d used in an attempt to mask her unhappiness. She’d snapped out of it after a couple of years, but Beth had lived that way for most of her life.

  “I told you, I’m not sure I can forgive her. Not to mention Gran.”

  “Even if it helps you?”

  “It’s for my own good. I know.”

  He stood and dragged her to her feet. “Layla McCarthy, you have an extraordinary opportunity to start over. You can choose a life of bitterness, cut off from everyone you love, or you can choose a path that will set everyone free.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because you’re the key,” he said, looping an arm around her neck.

  “To what?”

  “To everyone in your family finding peace. Your grandmother can finally know it, and so can your mother. Even your father. If you can’t find a way to come to terms with Beth, they won’t be able to either. There will always be guilt.”

  She dropped her head to his chest. “So, I’m responsible for everyone’s future happiness?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That really stinks.”

  A smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “Pretty much.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  After getting lectures from both Annaliese and Noah, Layla knew deep down that she needed to really try to make peace with her family. Something had to give, and Layla couldn’t go on living in a permanent state of angst. So, when her grandmother called and asked her to come to the house for dinner, she agreed.

  Two nights later, three generations of McCarthy women sat down at a table together for the first time. Aunt Grace took Josh out to a movie, leaving mother, daughter, and granddaughter alone. To an outsider, they might have looked like any other normal family. Layla watched as Beth and Gran worked together at the stove. They already seemed easy with each other, as if the years apart, and all the years of infighting that had come before, had never been.

  For the first time, Layla noticed eerie similarities between the two. Although Gran and Beth shared few physical traits, they had the same laugh. They were also both helpless in the kitchen, a trait they’d passed on to Layla. In fact, the roast they were going to eat tonight had been prepared beforehand by Aunt Grace. All they’d had to do was turn on the oven and set the timer.

  The timer dinged at that moment. Gran grabbed two oven mitts, but Beth gently pushed her mother aside. “No heavy lifting.”

  “It’s a roasting pan,” Gran said. “How heavy could it be?”

  “You stick to stirring.”

  “What should I do?” Layla asked.

  “Table duty,” they both said in unison.

  Okay, so Layla had burned the bread in the toaster oven. Yes, she’d had to climb up on a chair and dismantle the smoke detector to get it to stop screaming, but no real damage had been done.

  Layla harrumphed as she gathered plates and silverware. “It’s not like I actually burned anything down,” she said, as she set the table.

  “Face it honey, you inherited the McCarthy gene for ineptitude in the kitchen,” Beth said as she placed the roasting pan on top of the stove. She took a whiff. “Mmm, that smells delicious.”

  “We should test it first.” Gran picked up a fork and jabbed at the meat, dislodging a piece.

  “Careful, that’s hot,” Beth warned.

  Gran sent her a baleful glare. “Do I look like your five-year-old son?”

  “Sorry, Mom. Force of habit.”

  Gran chuckled and eased the meat into her mouth, after blowing on it a little. “It is delicious. Let’s eat.”

  The three women served themselves directly from the pot and then sat down at the table. Gran held out her hands and they bowed their heads.

  “Lord, use this food to nourish our bodies, this time to settle our minds, and this night to heal out hearts,” Gran prayed. “Help us to forget the past and learn how to love only in the present. Give us the strength to forgive and your wisdom, so that we might truly be a family again. Amen.”

  Layla sucked down the lump in her throat. She looked up in time to see Beth wiping a tear away with her napkin. Gran’
s eyes were suspiciously moist, as well.

  Gran clapped her hands. “I’m starved.”

  Layla was all for moving on. She took a bite and groaned as flavors exploded in her mouth. “Aunt Grace outdid herself. When it does come time to find a chef for The Paradise, you can bet none of us will be in charge.”

  “Your grandfather could cook,” Gran said. “He took over that duty mostly out of self-preservation and a desire to not be poisoned, but he eventually became quite good at it.”

  Beth grinned. “Too bad the female genes in our family are so strong.”

  “We have our own strength,” Gran said.

  “Yes, we’re pioneers,” Beth said, waving her fork in a circle around the table.

  Layla almost choked on the roast beef. “What were you a pioneer in exactly?”

  “Well, I supported myself for an entire year on winnings from pool,” Beth said.

  “Good gracious,” Gran shut her eyes. “You were a pool shark?”

  Rather than take offense, Beth grinned. “I did hustle a few people, but only the ones who deserved it. The guys who thought I was nothing but a ditsy broad. The rest I won in tournaments.”

  Layla couldn’t hold back her astonishment. “You won pool tournaments? Legitimate ones?”

  A smug smile pulled at Beth’s lips and she playfully buffed her fingernails against her shirt collar. “I’m a woman of many talents.”

  “Where did you learn to play?” Gran asked. “Certainly not in my home.”

  “No way.” Beth laughed. “I worked in a lot of bars in my hedonistic days. Most of them had pool tables. Then I had a—” Here she paused again, glancing at Gran. “Let’s call him a boyfriend. He was a professional pool player, or he had been before other things got in the way. He taught me how to play.”

  Gran’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What things got in his way?”

  “Personal demons,” Beth said, with careful precision that made it clear she wouldn’t reveal more details. “The same demons I wrestled with most of my life. I guess it’s why we were together.”