Chapter 16 #4
The island seemed to be having the same impact this time around.
Laura was happily settled, delighted with her job managing the Sand & Surf Hotel for Owen’s grandparents, who owned it.
Shane seemed to enjoy working at the hotel and helping Mac and Luke with their construction business.
At least he wasn’t sitting in a dark apartment letting life pass him by anymore. That was progress.
Frank approached his brother and sister-in-law’s home, noting the blooms in Linda’s famous rose garden as he let himself in through the gate of the white picket fence that surrounded the yard. He was almost to the porch when he saw a woman sitting on the top step.
As he approached, she stood, and he saw she was tall and strikingly pretty with curly dark hair that fell to her shoulders. As he drew closer, he could see that she was older than she’d first appeared.
“Mr. McCarthy?”
“I’m one of them, but this is my brother’s home. I’m Frank McCarthy.”
She shook his outstretched hand. “Betsy Jacobson. I was hoping to see Mr. or Mrs. McCarthy.”
“I could give them a call for you, if you’d like.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
He stepped around her and climbed the stairs. “Come on in.”
“Are you sure they won’t mind?”
“I’m positive.” Frank held the screen door for her and gestured for her to go into the house.
“They don’t lock their doors?” Betsy asked.
“No one does around here. Gansett is the safest place in the world.”
“Not always,” Betsy said.
Frank wasn’t sure what to make of her comment, so he went ahead and placed calls to Mac and Linda, who both said they’d be home in a few minutes.
“Can I get you something?” Frank asked while they waited in somewhat awkward silence.
“A glass of water would be great.”
“Coming right up.” Frank had spent enough time here to know where the glasses were kept and poured ice water for both of them.
Betsy wandered over to the sliding doors that led the expansive deck. “They have quite a view.”
“One of the best on the island.” Frank joined her at the doors. “That’s their marina down there and their hotel.” He was surprised to hear a sniffle of what might’ve been tears from her. “Are you all right?” When he looked over at her, she was staring at the marina.
“My son Steve was killed—”
“Oh God.” Frank hadn’t made the connection to her last name and the young man who’d been killed in the accident that had nearly claimed three of his nephews. “Your son was the captain.”
“Yes.”
“I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
She wiped away tears. “Thank you. Seeing the marina where he stayed…”
Frank wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but he reached out to pat her shoulder.
“I wanted to meet the McCarthys and to maybe hear more about what happened from their sons, since they were there.”
“I’m sure they’ll do anything they can for you.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you.”
Linda came rushing in a few minutes later and came right over to Betsy. The two women embraced as if they’d always known each other. Watching them, tears filled Frank’s eyes. He didn’t even want to imagine what Betsy had been through losing her son so suddenly and tragically.
“I’m so glad you came,” Linda said, patting Betsy’s back. “I’ve thought of you constantly.”
“I got your message. Thank you so much for your kindness and the invitation to visit.” Betsy drew back from her, wiping her face with the graceful pass of fingertips over her cheeks.
She moved with the elegance of a dancer.
“I’m sorry to come without calling first. I woke up this morning, and before I knew what I was about, I was at the ferry on the way here. ”
“You didn’t need to call,” Linda said. “You’re welcome here any time.”
“That’s so kind of you. I was hoping to see your sons, to hear more about what happened. If they’re willing, of course.”
“I’ll call them and ask them to come.”
“I’ll do it,” Frank said.
Linda handed him her phone. “Send a text. Tell them I’d like them to come to the house as soon as possible. That way it comes from their mother.”
Frank shared a smile with her. She was the best mother he’d ever known. If she told her kids to come, even her thirty-something kids, they’d come. Frank sent the text to Mac, Grant and Evan on their mother’s behalf.
He’d no sooner sent the message when his brother Big Mac came in.
His gray hair stood on end, his face was windblown and tanned, and he wore a faded T-shirt and battered shorts with paint-splattered boat shoes.
In some ways, the brothers were as different as two men could be.
But they shared more similarities than differences.
Frank embraced his younger brother, delighted as always to see him.
“That’s Steve’s mother?” Big Mac asked, his gaze fixed on Betsy.
“Yes.”
Big Mac watched his wife speak softly to the other woman, who seemed overwhelmed with emotion.
Frank studied his brother with growing concern. “Are you okay, Mac?”
“It’s been really hard, Frankie. I keep thinking about what could’ve happened to my boys… I can’t begin to understand what she’s going through.”
Frank hadn’t heard his childhood nickname in decades. It told him how undone his brother was by what had nearly happened.
“I don’t know what to say to her,” Big Mac continued. “My boys made it, but hers didn’t.”
“All you can do is express your condolences and support. That’s what she needs. That’s why she’s here.”
Big Mac squeezed Frank’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I.”