Chapter 12
twelve
ASHER
I’ve just finished a meeting in the New York office the next day when my phone lights up with a message. I look down, frowning to see a new group chat has been made. It even has a title, The Fitzgerald Family Group Chat. And I frown even harder when I see that Hudson made it.
Hudson? The man who hates messaging? I lift a brow, because he’s changed a lot since he and Skyler finally stopped dancing around each other and became an item.
It’s been a hard time for them both. First Hudson’s ex-inlaws tried to steal Ayda and take her back to England with them, and then after she was found, Hudson was an idiot and ended things between him and Skyler.
Luckily, he saw sense, and now they’re back together and Skyler’s pregnant and the three of them – Hudson, Skyler, and Ayda, are all living together at the Captain’s House.
Still, this is out of character, and I can’t help but open it right away.
HUDSON:
I have a question for you all. Skyler says it’s weird we don’t have a family group chat. Is it weird? I don’t know. Anyway, she thinks it is, so here we are. This is our new group chat. For family.
ZACH:
It’s not weird. It’s just us keeping our sanity. Looking at the title of this chat is breaking me out in hives. Only bad things can come from group chats. Although obviously I’m staying.
AUTUMN:
Woohoo! I think it’s a great idea. And welcome to the twenty-first century big brothers. I’ll be able to keep you entertained with my thoughts on Europe. Also, tell Skyler I’ve tried to create about a hundred family chats and you all never reply.
I let out a sigh. I hate being the voice of doom in this situation, but it’s worth reminding them that no chat is fully safe.
ASHER:
Just remember that though this is encrypted, it’s still better not to say too much on here.
HUDSON:
I’m not planning on giving you my bank details. Or where the bodies are buried… Jesus, why do you all have to make this so difficult? By the way, Skyler says you’re all assholes except for maybe Autumn.
EDEN:
Hey, I haven’t said anything. How can I be an asshole? Anyway can you send me a pic of Ayda? I miss her. And hi everybody!
I lift a brow at that. Tracking Eden down is like trying to catch a butterfly. She’s always flitting here and there. And she’s almost allergic to telling us anything, like she’s scared we’re going to drag her back home.
She reminds me a bit of Francie. Beautiful, but a pain.
And now I’m thinking about Francie’s fucking boyfriend. Who is he, anyway?
HUDSON:
Eden! Where are you right now? Are you safe? Do you have food? A phone charger? Are you inside a building with plumbing?
ASHER:
Does Eden even own a phone charger? Because I’ve called her five times in the past month and she hasn’t answered once.
True story, that. I like to check in on her once a month at least.
AUTUMN:
Haha, the king of ignoring everybody is being ignored for once. I love it. Suck it, Ash.
ASHER:
Thanks for reminding me why I hate group chats.
EDEN:
I’d forgotten how dramatic you all are. Yes I’m alive. Yes I’m fed. No I’m not telling you exactly where I am. I’ve made that mistake before.
AUTUMN:
See, she’s fine. She’s an adult. Leave her alone. Or we’ll create a sister chat without any of you.
ASHER:
Don’t threaten us with a good time.
ZACH:
Hey, don’t sweat it. Eden will let us know where she is when she loses her passport again and Hudson has to bail her out.
ASHER:
Or when she texts us from a burner phone asking for €5,000 and a blood sample.
EDEN:
That’s rude. It was an accident. But also thank you for that one time. Love you, big bro.
HUDSON:
Talking of being ignored, Wyatt? You alive?
That makes my mouth twitch. The only family member less communicative than Eden is our youngest brother. Last I heard from him, he’s still working on the ocean, captain of a boat. But he’s a man of action, not words.
WYATT:
ZACH:
Well that’s more words than he’s said all year. It’s practically poetry.
AUTUMN:
It’s his way of showing he cares. I think it’s sweet. I’m feeling emotional right now – it’s so nice to chat with you all. It’s like having us all back together, even though I’m leaving the country. I miss you guys.
ZACH:
Are you going to cry again? Because I don’t do tears. Especially not after the last time you sobbed for two hours when you found out Skyler was pregnant.
AUTUMN:
Shut up. I’m a strong independent woman. I can show my emotions any way I want to.
EDEN:
You once cried at an IKEA commercial. Just saying.
AUTUMN:
That was FIVE YEARS AGO! And it was beautiful. It just hit me in the gut, that’s all.
EDEN:
It was a kitchen remodel, sis.
AUTUMN:
But the family LOVED IT! They were all laughing and eating and… You know what? Skyler’s right, you ARE all assholes.
HUDSON:
So this family chat thing is going well. Should I delete it?
EDEN:
No. I like knowing what you idiots are up to. And it takes the heat off me.
ASHER:
We’d just like to know the same, kid. Just saying.
AUTUMN:
Actually, while you’re all here, I have an announcement.
EDEN:
Uhoh.
ZACH:
Has Parker done something to upset you? Am I going to have to beat him up?
My lips twitch, because Parker wouldn’t hurt a damn fly. Of all the men I’d trust to be married to my sister, he’s at the top. Still, it’s fun to tease her sometimes.
AUTUMN:
NOBODY’S BEATING PARKER UP. I just wanted to let you know that Francie’s going to be staying at the lighthouse while Parker and I are away.
Her apartment has some structural issues.
So – Hudson, can you and Skyler keep an eye on her?
And Asher – if you happen to be anywhere in the vicinity of Liberty can you BE NICE, please?
ASHER:
Francie’s coming to Liberty?
AUTUMN:
Yes, Please don’t ruin it for her.
HUDSON:
Of course we’ll take care of her. Let me know her travel details. It’ll be nice to see her.
EDEN:
Well as fun as this has been, I need to go. I need to see a man about a Llama. Stay cool, fam. And remember – love not war. And nobody beat Autumn’s husband up.
I turn off the phone, already feeling exhausted by my family. Damn, I love them, but they’re a lot.
And then I turn it on again, just to re-read Autumn’s words.
Francie is going to be staying on Liberty.
Because I have a few pieces of unfinished business where she’s concerned.
FRANCIE
“You’ll get bored within a week,” Charlie’s voice echoes down my phone as I haul my suitcases up the steps to Brewed Awakenings, Liberty’s resident caffeine dealer.
The sun is shining in the sky, the ocean is sparkling like a thousand diamonds, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen the island looking prettier.
“Good,” I say as I push open the door, the aroma of coffee and sugar cookies washing over me. “I came here to work, not party.”
Charlie lets out a huff. “What am I supposed to do without you to annoy?” he whines. “Manhattan’s boring without my favorite auntie sneaking into sex clubs.”
“First of all, we don’t call it a sex club.” I lower my voice on that one, because the coffee shop doesn’t need to know about that particular snafu. “Second, don’t call me your auntie. Third, there’s this magical thing called a phone. You can still annoy me remotely.”
“Hah,” he says, not even trying to laugh. “Speaking of phones, I downloaded you an app.”
I frown. “What app?”
Charlie’s always been a pest. In high school, he messaged every guy in my contacts claiming I had a crush on them. He even swapped my yearbook headshot for a rat in a sparkly crown – and the yearbook committee just went with it. Sometimes I wonder how he made it past twenty.
“Just check your screen,” he says, sounding smug as hell.
I pull the phone away and scroll through the chaos of apps until I find it. And groan.
“You downloaded a dating app on my phone?”
“Remotely,” he confirms. “Open it. You’ll love the profile.”
I brace myself and tap. It’s a photo of me at Misty Lakes, sitting on the dock in a pink bikini, legs dangling in the water. I’m sticking my tongue out at the camera like a six-year-old.
“How old are you?” I mutter. “If you ever get a girlfriend who sticks around, I’m telling her about the time you pooped the bed.”
“I was five!”
“Doesn’t matter. Your love life is over.”
I hang up on his wheezing laughter and step further inside the coffee shop, hoping for caffeine and a little peace before Simon – the island’s one and only cab driver – shows up to take me to the lighthouse.
It could take him ten minutes, or ten hours. Simon runs on chaos.
It’s quiet in the café. The tail end of tourist season means most people are off exploring the island or drifting on one of the new charter boats the hotel runs. Or maybe they just have better things to do than loiter in a coffee shop. Unlike me.
“If you’re here to make me go on another carousel,” Mylene says, eyeing me from behind the counter, “you can go spin alone. I never want to see one of those again.”
I hold up my hands. “No carousels. No fairground attractions. You’re officially off duty.”
Her shoulders visibly relax. “Thank God. What’ll it be?”
“Iced matcha, please,” I tell her, then drift over to the big picture window overlooking the dock and a sliver of the Atlantic beyond it.
Between here and the water, Eileen’s By the Sea stands primly next to Mylene’s coffee shop, their owners still locked in a blood feud that’s lasted decades. They live and work within spitting distance of each other – and somehow the island hasn’t exploded yet.
Right past that is The Salty Dog, run by Skyler, who has fallen in love with Hudson Fitzgerald. The last time I was here, that whole whirlwind was still unfolding.
It feels weird being here without Autumn. I’ve never done Liberty solo before. And now I’m moving into the lighthouse like some reclusive author trying to outrun the world.
Maybe that’s why I’m glad the cab hasn’t arrived yet. Maybe that’s why I’m still standing here.
Procrastinating. It’s my real talent.