31. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ETHAN
“ W e should go see Maggie. And her lawyer,” I say once Jill leaves the kitchen.
“You’re right.” Kinzie gives me a tight-lipped smile. “But I told your mom I’d finish her wall today.”
“I’ll text her and let her know something came up. She’ll understand. We can grab lunch on the way and then head to her house afterward.”
She nods. “As long as we finish up before dinner. I promised Tessa that we’d meet her since she’s leaving tomorrow.”
My eyes light up. “Both of us?”
She swats at my arm, though it’s clear she’s fighting a smile. “Don’t read too much into it. I had to invite you. She thinks we’re together.”
I clasp her hand in mine and lift her from her seat. “Oh. But we are together,” I murmur against her mouth.
Sunny Meadows is a small but quaint facility that offers care to people with varying degrees of dementia and other cognitive impairments. The facility itself is nestled on a farm that’s reminiscent of Maggie’s home, though there are mountains to the west and a hospital only a few blocks to the south.
Inside, we’re greeted by a woman not much older than we are. She wears a warm smile and introduces herself as Connie.
“Maggie had a bit of an episode today,” she warns as we make our way down the hall. “But she’s been doing really well under the circumstances.”
“The circumstances?” Kinzie’s voice breaks.
Cringing, Connie comes to a stop. “Your mom didn’t tell you?”
When Kinzie doesn’t respond, I reach for her hand and give it a tight squeeze.
“Maggie had a stroke. The nurse on duty was able to get her medical attention right away. But,” she says, slowly heading toward Maggie’s room again, “it still left her with some speech impairment and paralysis on her right side. This makes everything a chore. She struggles to eat, get dressed, and pull herself out of bed.”
“I didn’t know,” Kinzie whispers, her body deflating.
“And because she can’t perform the normal functions of everyday living, she gets herself worked up, and some days, it’s nearly impossible to bring her back down.”
Connie stops in front of an open doorway and faces us. “Holler if you need me. I’ll be at the nurse’s station there.” She nods at a desk just across the hall. “I know it’s hard, but try not to get too emotional. It’ll only confuse her. Be gentle, but don’t talk to her like a toddler. She doesn’t like that.”
When she steps away, Kinzie blows out a long breath.
“I can’t do it,” she says.
I grasp her upper arms and dip my chin so she’s forced to look at me. “You can.”
“No. I really can’t. I’m an awful person. I haven’t been back here in years. My mom has left me countless messages, and I’ve ignored them all. I don’t know what to do, what to say.”
“You’re here now,” I remind her, rubbing her arms gently. “That’s all that matters. Forget everything else and just spend time with her. Tell her a story.”
She blows out another breath and then says, “Will you stay with me?”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead. “Of course.”
Stepping inside Maggie’s room is like stepping into her house at the farm. There are miniature wooden figurines and yellow and orange floral doilies scattered about. Bins of clothes and books are stacked next to her bed like a makeshift table, and there are old photos set up on every surface.
“Hi, Maggie.” Kinzie makes a beeline for the hospital bed near the window.
The frail woman slowly turns in our direction, and with a blank look at us, turns away again.
“Oh, Maggie, look at that blanket. It’s Sir Arthur. Ezra would absolutely love it.” Kinzie runs a careful hand along the edge of the blanket covering Maggie’s legs.
This catches her attention. “You. Know. Ezra?” She pieces the three words together in a slow but calculated manner.
“Of course I know Ezra. He’s the love of your life.” Kinzie glances at the pictures on the table and picks one up. She smiles at it, then turns it so Maggie can see. “He is so handsome, isn’t he?”
Maggie’s lips turn up, and she nods. Silently, she points a shaky finger at the other photos, and like she can read her mind, Kinzie places each picture, one by one, into Maggie’s good hand.
I listen and smile, trying to remain unnoticed as Kinzie describes them all as if she were there when the photos were taken.
“Kinz-ly,” Maggie says, drawing out the syllables as she studies the last picture. She repeats her name a few more times and jabs at the picture, as if wanting to say something else.
“Yes. This is Kinsley,” Kinzie says solemnly.
Maggie shakes her head, and as she does, the photo clatters to the floor.
“It’s okay, I got it,” Kinzie murmurs. As she’s tilting forward to pick up the picture, Maggie covers Kinzie’s hand with her own and repeats her name.
“Kinz. Ly,” she says. Eyes wet with tears, she draws one arthritic finger along Kinzie’s cheek.
“Maggie.” Kinsley’s voice cracks, as if she can’t believe that Maggie might be having a lucid moment.
With a shuddering breath, Kinzie slides into bed with Maggie, cradling the fragile woman as if she were a baby.
She cries. And then Maggie cries. Even I choke up and find myself wiping away the dampness on my cheeks.
When we leave, it’s Kinzie who squeezes my hand. “Thank you,” she says.
On our ride back to Hope Island, Kinzie decides not to call Maggie’s lawyer. “What’s done is done,” she says. “I can’t change the rezoning, and at this rate, it’s unlikely I’ll ever find the paperwork confirming that Maggie has gifted the house to me. And that’s okay. It’s not like I plan on having a family of my own, anyway. There’s no real reason to want it, except for sentimental reasons.”
“You don’t want a family?” My heart stutters at this revelation. “You’re kidding, right? The Kinzie I remember wanted enough kids to fill up a school bus.”
“Ha,” she laughs.
“I’m serious,” I say, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. “That’s all you ever talked about.” Kinzie grew up hating how small her family was. Just Kinzie and Tessa and their mom. Her dad passed away when she was too young to have any real memory of him, and because both of her parents were only children, she doesn’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins.
Kinzie frowns. “Yeah, well, things change. It’s just not in the cards for me.”
“That’s because you’ve been involved with people like that asshole from the other night,” I say, frowning at the way her mood has taken a nosedive. “Sometimes it just takes the right person.” I wink at her.
Her frown turns into a glower. “Oh. And that right person is you, huh? Let me guess, you want five kids. Four boys and one girl. One after another, every two years, just like your parents.”
I laugh at her ridiculously accurate assessment. “It doesn’t have to be five.”
She lets out a little huff and stares out the passenger window. “That sounds miserable.”
Miserable? What the hell? I glance at her, but the way she’s shifted toward the door makes it difficult. Eyes on the road, I pull in a deep breath. Miserable . Since when does the idea of having kids sound miserable to somebody like Kinzie?
For now, I let it go and change the subject. I’ll broach it again when she’s not so upset. “So. Where are we meeting Tessa and Derrick tonight?”
After running into a bit of traffic heading north, we walk into Four Oysters a few minutes late. Tessa and Derrick are already inside, waiting for us, both of them in jeans and T-shirts and oversized sunglasses.
“What’s that?” Kinzie appraises the overstuffed backpack in Tessa’s hand.
“Oh. This,” Tessa says, tugging it from her shoulder. “It’s all your things from the house. We had to call pest control. They recommended we vacate while they spray and set traps. I figured you could stay with Ethan again tonight. Derrick and I already said our goodbyes to Mom, and since we’re all packed up, we figured we’d just crash at a hotel near the airport.”
Kinzie’s eyes narrow, skeptical. “Pests? What kind of pests?”
“Rats,” Tessa replies at the same time Derrick says, “Raccoons.”
Before I can question how rats and raccoons got into their house, we’re interrupted by the hostess.
“Your table is ready. You can follow me.” Her voice trails off as she leads us to a booth in the far corner of the room.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom to wash my hands,” Tessa says before we can inquire further about the pest problem.
The moment she disappears, Logan materializes at our table. “There’s my favorite social media manager.” He smiles, slipping a lemon drop martini in front of Kinzie.
“Oh no. I’m not drinking tonight.” She pushes the drink right back to my brother. “Wait. How did you know?”
Logan tilts his head toward a familiar-looking man behind the bar.
“Ramon?” Kinzie and I say at the same time.
“He’s great. I called him in for an interview, and he knocked it out of the park. I offered him the job on the spot, but he said he wanted a trial run first. He wanted to see how we operated before he committed himself. I kind of feel like he’s interviewing us.”
“Ramon is great. You’d be lucky to have him,” I say.
He nods. “I don’t disagree. He’s going to help with the festival tomorrow too. You’ll be here, right?” He looks at Kinzie, who is taking a sip of the martini she just swore she wasn’t drinking.
“Tomorrow?” Her eyes widen.
He laughs. “Yes, tomorrow. Hope Island’s fall festival. You’ve got to be here. You’re my new social media manager. I demand it.”
“Ooh.” Her lips twist. “I don’t know. I should probably head back to Charleston tomorrow.”
Heart lurching, I snap my head in her direction. “ What ?”
“I’ve been here for almost a week. And if their house,” she points to Derrick and the empty seat Tessa should be sitting in, “isn’t available for me to stay at, then—”
“Stay at my place.”
“Ethan,” Kinzie whispers, her tone making it clear that she doesn’t want to talk about it now.
“Well.” Logan straightens. “I would love for you to be there tomorrow. He’ll be working a double,” he says regarding me, “so you’d have to hang out with Carter, Jill, Ramon, and me. But I understand if you can’t make it work.”
“Can I text you later?” she asks.
Logan nods, and with a quick look at me, he excuses himself.
Kinzie, however, does not look at me. Instead, she swirls her drink and takes another tiny sip, as if allowing it to distract her from my presence.
What the hell? I want to ask if I’ve done something wrong, but having that conversation will have to wait.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence. “What part of Spain will you and Tessa be staying in?”
Derrick glances up as if he, too, is distracted. “Oh. Umm. Madrid.”
Before I can inquire about their lodging or what he’ll be doing there while Tessa works, Tessa swoops in, dragging a hand through her hair. “Sorry,” she says, her eyes wide. “I had to take a call. The boss was just checking in to make sure we were all set for tomorrow.”
Derrick presses his hand to her wrist. “Everything okay?” She pinches her lips. “Mm-hmm. They’re sending us a driver to take us to the hotel.”
An intense look passes between them. Clearly, something is going on. I turn to Kinzie, but she doesn’t see it. She’s lost in another world right now.
Something is off. With everybody. But I focus in on Tessa and Derrick. My gut is telling me there’s something larger at play here. If there’s a car coming to get them, then what will they do with their personal vehicle? And why do they look so stressed? I don’t think they’re telling us the whole story about this Spain thing.
A goodbye dinner is probably not the best place to question them, so I change the subject completely. “We saw Maggie today.”
This brings everyone back together. For the next hour, the conversation flows. We talk a lot about the past. About growing up in Hope Island. Derrick doesn’t offer us much about his childhood. He tells us he grew up in Seattle and that he spent his high school years at a boarding school out west.
Neither Kinzie nor I bring up Peter or the impending doom that looms over the law firm. That’ll be in the news soon enough.
“That was so good,” Kinzie says, leaning back against the seat and pushing away the blackened shrimp bowl she barely put a dent in.
“The salmon is delicious too. Do you want to try a bite?” I offer, nudging my plate in her direction.
“Oh, God no. I’m stuffed.”
I consider pointing out that she’s barely touched her food, but before I can, she turns to me wearing an expression I can’t quite read. It’s far off. Distant. Like she wants to be anywhere but here. I think back on our day. What happened that could have brought on this dissociation? Seeing Maggie was emotional, sure, but her demeanor was more melancholy than absent.
“Car is going to be here in fifteen minutes,” Tessa announces.
Derrick blows out a deep breath and wipes his hands on his napkin. “I better go use the lavatory before we head out.”
“I’m right behind you,” Kinzie says, as if she can’t get out quick enough.
As soon as they’re both out of earshot, I zero in on Tessa and decide to test out a hunch I have about her trip. “I hear it’s beautiful in Barcelona this time of year. Will you and Derrick have time to sightsee at all?”
With her focus set on her phone, she types out a message while reciting what sounds like a line from a script. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful too, but honestly, I probably won’t have much time to sightsee, with work and all.”
“Liar,” I smack the table loud enough that the people sitting in the booth closest to us all turn.
Tessa freezes.
“Derrick just told me you were going to Madrid.”
Tessa’s lip twitches. “We fly into Madrid, but we’ll be living in Barcelona.”
I tilt my head, eyes narrowed. “You plan to drive seven hours after flying halfway across the world?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now.
Tessa leans in and snarls. “Listen. Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”
“I don’t know anything, so why don’t you enlighten me?” I snap back.
With a shake of her head, she huffs. “Stay out of it.”
“Tessa…” The law enforcement side of my brain senses trouble, making it impossible for me to leave well enough alone.
“Listen, I know you and my sister have been faking all of this.” She waves a hand in front of her. “And I know I’m a bitch for pushing her to do it. Even so, I need you to keep pretending for a few more nights and to leave my situation alone.”
At her declaration, I choke on a gulp of nothing. “I don’t know what you mean,” I spit out as soon as I’m able to breathe again.
“Cut the crap,” she says, her tone flat. “I know my sister. There’s no fucking way any of this is real. I’ve spent years trying to hook her up with guys. Nice men, might I add. She saw right through me last week, and the two of you thought you’d pretend to date. Well, lucky for me, that was my plan all along too.”
“Plan?”
“Yes. I needed her to be preoccupied, and throwing you two together did just that. And now,” she grits out, seething and possibly on the verge of a mental breakdown, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep pretending.”
Dropping my forearms to the table, I angle forward. “What the hell is going on?”
She pulls back, wipes her hands down her face as if she’s at war with herself, and then scans our surroundings. In the tiniest of voices, she whispers, “Do not ask me any more questions. And do not let Kinzie go back to our house. We’ll be off the grid for a while. Please convince her to stay with you for the weekend. Then she can go back to Charleston.”
My mind is still whirling with questions when Kinzie and Derrick appear. “You ready?” Derrick’s voice is drenched in worry, but he puts on a good act when he smiles at his wife.
Tessa takes his hand and rises from her seat.
“I am going to miss you so much,” Kinzie cries, clutching her sister. “Text the minute you land. And take lots of pictures.” Sniffling, she pulls back. “And let me know when I can come and visit.”
Tessa’s voice quivers when she releases a half laugh. “I’ll text when I can. The department will set me up with a new number so I can make international calls. Just promise me that if you need anything while I’m gone, you’ll reach out to Mom. And consider going to the festival tomorrow. It’ll be good for you to be around other people.”
Kinzie makes a noncommittal sound, but Tessa is focused on me now, silently pleading with me to make my own promise. Fuck. I hate being on the opposite end of secret clearance bullshit.
Nodding, I loop my arm around Kinzie and then say my own goodbye.