Chapter 10 Look Homeward （Kane） #2
Judging by the way everyone smiles and moves out of the way, I figure it’s not an unusual sight.
But the sun is shining and Sophie’s grin looks wide enough to split her face.
When I get my lobster roll with its beautiful buttery pink meat spilling out of it, I stop caring about anything.
“Shit,” I groan, biting into it like the heathen I am. “A man could get used to Maine.”
Margot laughs and nudges my shoulder. “That easy? I thought it would take more to win you over than your stomach.”
“I’m a simple man. Food’s only part of the equation, but it’s big.”
She blushes.
The rest of it is her, which shouldn’t even be implied. But I guess good food ruins my filter.
The light catches her hair, turning it to gold as it frames her face. She digs into her lobster tacos like I’m not enjoying the show.
Sophie eats her half sandwich, too, stopping to look around like she’s worried people will judge her for being too into her food.
That’s her mom’s doing, and I hate it.
Daria, always counting calories and reminding everyone to watch their weight, even in public. The kids are perfectly healthy and too innocent to fixate on their image at this age.
Couldn’t tell you how many times we fought about that shit.
No regrets, either.
I’ll defend their right to be kids all day long until I’m turning blue.
The wolves of adulthood come prowling too soon. For Sophie and Dan, they can fucking wait.
Thankfully, Dan isn’t self-conscious. He eats like he’s starving, finishing his burger and tots before anyone else finishes their food.
He licks sauce from his fingers, and Margot digs in her pocket for a packet of tissues.
“Here,” she says, smiling at him. “You’ve got a little on your face, too.”
“Well now,” a woman’s voice says from behind us. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Margot’s on her feet before I have time to react, her face wreathed in a smile as she turns to face the little old lady. She’s probably in her seventies, wearing a bright print dress and a grin.
“Mrs. Griffith!” Margot says, embracing the lady.
“Margot,” the lady says, “Call me Edith, please.” She gives me a nod and a smile. “Mr. Saint, I presume. We spoke on the phone. Glad to see you made it up here okay. Hope the house isn’t too ramshackle for your stay?”
“It’s perfect,” I say. “And you can call me Kane.”
“I still feel terrible about the mix-up,” Edith whispers to Margot. “I hadn’t realized you were planning on visiting, dear, and it sure sounded like he needed the place.”
“No, no, not at all. It’s fine, honestly. We sorted it out.” Margot smiles disarmingly. “I told you it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Margot’s been great company,” I agree, which earns me another smile from her. “The house is quiet, and the lake is huge. Everything I wanted in a nice property.”
“Well, I really am embarrassed about the whole mix-up. When they put me in charge, I thought it would be better to have people there—families—rather than let the old place sit around going to ruin. Even if we barely had any takers before you arrived.”
“You were right,” Margot says warmly.
I nod. “The kids love it.”
“There’s a lake!” Dan agrees, like nothing else matters.
“It’s awesome at night. Best stars ever!” Sophie chimes in.
Edith beams at them both.
“I’m so glad you like the place, sweetie.”
Margot throws a glance at me, like she can’t quite believe Edith Griffith is real.
No one’s this nice. Except for the folks of Sully Bay.
Still, she must’ve been around for a while, especially if Leonidas trusted her with helping manage his property. She could know something more about the history around here.
“It’s a relaxing place, Mrs. Griffith. Hard to leave.” I plaster on a smile.
“Edith,” she reminds me, and beckons us back to her stall, where she’s selling what looks like handmade soaps. “You must call me Edith. And please take some on the house. I insist, my apology for the messy situation.”
Margot’s fingers brush mine as we both reach out to collect a handful of soaps that smell like strong lavender.
“Actually, it’s great that it worked out this way,” I continue. “The kids and I have good company who gives us pointers with the locals. Not sure we’d have gotten off the lake nearly as much without Margot around.”
They both smile until it feels like I’m bathed in sunlight.
“Plus, the blueberry farm next door’s great.” I give Margot a pointed look she finally picks up on. Her eyes widen. “The Babins deserve a medal for hospitality. How many muffins did you make, Margot?”
“Oh, yes, they came over right away to introduce themselves and gave us a year’s supply of fresh blueberries,” she says. “Such lovely neighbors. I’m kind of amazed Gramps never mentioned them.”
The second Edith’s face darkens, I know we’ve hit something.
Sophie and Dan both walk off to be with the horses.
Good. It helps that they aren’t around to feel the change in the air.
“Oh, my, the Babins…” The sweet old lady practically grinds their name with her teeth. “I’m surprised they showed their faces after the way they carried on when old Leo owned the place.”
Margot frowns and looks at me. Clearly this is news.
“What did they do?”
“Oh, some silly grudge over the land. Only, it stopped being so silly after—and this was years ago—after they started up with their demands. Old Joe’s father even sued Leonidas one winter on faulty claims.” She shakes her head slowly, still lost in the past. “But they were laughed out of court. Humiliated, in fact.”
“They sued PopPop?” Margot looks stunned.
“I’m afraid so, dear. Oh, and that’s not all…
there was that fire the summer after, before you were born.
Torched the old gazebo he’d built and your grams’ pretty garden.
A real miracle it never reached the house.
” She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth.
“No proof what happened, of course, but I always had a suspicion who was behind it.”
Shit.
My heart drums.
“Fire? Jesus, I never—” Margot clears her throat, rubbing her fingers idly over her collarbone like she’s soothing away a bee sting. “He never mentioned any of this.”
“No, I suppose not. Leo loved to keep this place pure for you kids, I think. And he wasn’t the kind to hold grudges. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.”
Margot’s nostrils flare.
“No, don’t be,” she says quietly.
“It hit Leo hard, that fire. The gazebo was always your grandma’s favorite place when she was around, right next to those beautiful gardens.
The perennials would come back year after year before the fire.
” Edith’s gaze is distant, and she smiles shyly.
“Seems like just yesterday… I’d stop by to pick up a few flowers or bring her a bottle of wine.
Sweet woman. You’d find May Blackthorn painting out there almost every day in the warm months. ”
“Oh, wow. I found a painting she did in the attic.” Margot bites her lip.
“She was prolific! And Leonidas was usually there with her, doting over her shoulder. But he never came around much after her passing, especially after the fire. Just a few times a year when he’d bring you and Ethan around.
” She heaves a sigh. “Poor man. I’m not sure he ever got over the heartache of losing her last special place. ”
Margot steps back like she’s been punched.
I put my hand on the small of her back, holding her steady.
She gives me a grateful glance, leaning into my hand, and I slide my arm around her hip, pulling her closer.
Her face looks so pale it worries me.
“I had no idea about any of this,” she says.
Edith nods seriously.
“It’s time you found out about the Babins and your granddad’s past. He’d have wanted you to know, especially with them sniffing around.”
Margot’s brows draw together.
Although she nods back gratefully, she doesn’t look convinced.
I wonder if Edith’s right.
Maybe the old man never wanted her to know about this stuff at all.
He never told her, after all, and there were plenty of opportunities. He could’ve left her a note in his will too, instead of sending her on a wild damn goose chase for whatever’s buried in the house.
I hate seeing her like this.
She’s not crying—I don’t think she lets herself cry often—but there’s a frailness in her face, her posture.
I hold her closer, and she gives me another grateful glance, her blue eyes dark.
“Whoa, Dad, look!” Dan yells from behind us.
We both turn, and I’m expecting something shocking.
But he’s just pointing at an ice cream truck on the other side of the park.
“Can we?” he asks, having missed everything that’s just gone down. “Pretty please with sprinkles?”
I turn back to Edith, and she smiles indulgently.
Margot stays silent, still reeling from the latest news.
“Thanks for the soaps, Edith. I should probably get these two terrors some dessert before they go to pieces.”
“Go!” She waves us both away with an urgent flap of her hands. “Enjoy yourselves while you’re here. And please take care of yourself, Margot, you hear me?”
“Sure will,” Margot murmurs quietly.
As we head back to the kids and the horses, I take her hand to steady her.
“You okay?”
“…I don’t know. All this stuff about the house, the Babins… Holy shit. I really had no idea. And I still don’t get what Gramps wants me to find.”
“I know. Have you thought about asking your mom? If you’ve hit a wall, it can’t hurt to reach for new directions.”
“Easier said than done. But maybe.” She looks pained.
The kids chatter about the ice cream flavors on the menu, bringing us back to the present, but I can tell she’s stuck on Edith Griffith’s words and the biting mystery in that house.
“You were right about the police report, at least,” she says softly. “I know we don’t have any proof the Babins intruded, but if they tried to burn the house down…” Her voice trails off.
Yeah, fuck.
My blood boils.
“Don’t worry. If they ever show their faces again, we’ll be ready,” I promise. The weight of it pounds in my ears like a war drum. “No one’s getting hurt under my roof, duchess.”
A holy vow, and I mean every venom word.
Not my kids.
Not myself.
Definitely not this strange, beautiful woman.