Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
I da woke up Sunday morning at four fifteen. She twisted around to peer at Rick asleep in the moonlight. His sheets kicked off as though he were a child, his eyes moving around beneath their lids as though he were having wild dreams. Last night, she’d sat beside him on the sofa and tried and failed to concentrate on a film—another crime drama that made her think of her situation, of the fact that somebody in her vicinity was stealing from her, about the fact that she was stupidly keeping the yacht company alive in a mad attempt to make enough money to stay afloat. Between a rock and a hard place was the expression that continued to ring through her head.
But the past couple of days had felt like cleanup. With Shelby, Ida had set up new bank accounts, moved around the funds, set up new passwords, went to the bank ten times to clear everything, and even brought the lawyer into the office to discuss Mr. Grayson’s lawsuit. Susan Sheridan was their lawyer—one of the most sought-after along the East Coast. She lived in Martha’s Vineyard but had her husband bring her over via boat Friday afternoon. Ida had met her a few times before, but she was surprised at how whip-smart and organized she seemed, there in the office of the Nantucket Sunset Cruisers, asking questions and jotting down their answers as though this were a run-of-the-mill case. It thrilled Ida to have her in her corner.
Ida crept downstairs, made herself a cup of tea, and opened her laptop. Just as she had every morning since everything had gone down, she brought up the bank account for the Nantucket Sunset Cruisers and checked that the funds moving in and out were up to code. Just as she’d hoped, the number continued to go up and up and up. In fact, they already had enough money to pay for August’s insurance, which she sent immediately.
Ida breathed a sigh of relief. Being insured was a wonderful thing. It meant that any incidents going forward—God help them—would not completely obliterate the Nantucket Sunset Cruisers.
Only Mr. Grayson could destroy them now.
According to the grapevine, Mrs. Grayson was still not out of the woods. She remained in the hospital, going in and out of consciousness. Every time she woke up, Mr. Grayson got to work on publicly smearing Ida’s company’s reputation. Every time she went back under, Mr. Grayson was apparently so distraught that he stayed by her bed all day and all night.
Ida would have called it romantic if it wasn’t the thing apt to destroy her.
But Ida was in a better mood now that the funds were going up, the insurance for August was paid for, and Attorney Susan Sheridan was in their camp. She decided to go for a brisk four-mile run, do a yoga routine, shower, and make breakfast for her family, returning to a version of herself she recognized. With the pancake batter and the bacon sizzling in their skillets, she turned on eighties music and danced around the kitchen in her leggings and tank top. Everything is going to be okay, she told herself. Just like always.
When she turned around, she found Rick in the kitchen with a big smile. His hair was tousled from sleep, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the forehead.
“You look fantastic,” he said. “What time did you get up?”
Ida considered telling him the truth but decided the truth wasn’t worth the hassle. “Maybe six?”
Rick looked at the clock on the stove and scratched his ear. It was nearly eight. “I think the girls are awake. They smell breakfast.”
“Great!” Ida cried.
Frankie and Nellie appeared downstairs not long after that. Frankie looked happier than Ida had seen her in months, her smile from ear-to-ear, and her face still smudged with last night’s makeup. Nellie looked sleepy but happy, too. Ida knew that Frankie’s moods always affected Nellie’s and vice versa.
Ida plated their breakfasts and sat down with her family. Her heart ballooned with gratefulness. She imagined that whoever had stolen from her and Shelby had already realized it, that they were panicking. Not so fast, she imagined saying to them. We caught you.
“How was everyone’s Saturday nights?” Ida asked.
Frankie and Nellie exchanged a glance Ida couldn’t translate.
“Good?” Nellie said.
Frankie raised her shoulders. “We stayed up too late watching TV.”
“But you went out, didn’t you?” Ida asked. “I heard you come home separately.”
“I was with a few friends,” Nellie admitted.
“Me too,” Frankie said.
Ida beamed at her daughters. Maybe it was good that they were spending a little time apart and remembering what it was like to be different people with different needs. It wasn’t good to be attached at the hip. And it wasn’t good for one sister to take care of the other sister too much. Ida knew that well, based on her history with Sophie.
Sophie! She hadn’t thought of Sophie in so long.
And now, a thought struck her.
It was a horrible thought, one that melted the smile off her face.
Did Sophie have something to do with the stolen funds?
“Are you okay, honey?” Rick frowned, watching her.
Ida tried to fix her face, but the thought rattled her too much. She got up and refilled her coffee, her thoughts whirring. She had a thousand different memories of Sophie as an addict, Sophie taking and taking and taking so that she could use, use, use. Ida closed her eyes and held her breath.
Sophie’s sober now. Sophie is pregnant. It can’t be her.
But then she thought of Sophie’s new husband, Patrick, whom she’d met because they were both addicts, and her thoughts whirred all over again. I don’t know. I don’t know.
“Are we still going to Aunt Estelle and Uncle Roland’s today?” Nellie asked.
“That’s the plan,” Rick said. “But we have to make a salad. Right, Ida? Your mom wants us to bring a salad?”
Ida returned to the table and fixed her face. Maybe today, at the family party, she could get to the bottom of this. Perhaps she would sense something in Patrick’s expression—knowledge of how he’d stolen money to feed his heinous addiction. Or maybe, if it wasn’t him, he knew who’d done it. It had to be connected to the drug world, she decided. There was no other conclusion.
After all, the drug world had done a pretty good job of destroying the Colemans before. Why wouldn’t it try again?