Chapter Twenty-Six Tranquility Estates, Vermont Present Day #2
She didn’t say the rest. There was no need. The puzzled anxiety that made Walsh look so endearing transformed first to surprise and then to understanding.
And then, as the full meaning sank in, pity.
“Oh,” he said. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Oh.”
Walsh took his time formulating his response, his mouth working as though testing the weight of his words ahead of time. “To be honest, I did wonder after I saw Scarlett on one of our video calls. There’s something about the shape of her face and the way she carries herself. It’s almost like—”
“She’s never questioned her place in the world or what she wants out of it? Confidence oozes out of her pores and makes everyone around her feel inadequate?”
“I was going to say that she seems like a woman who’s used to getting her own way, but that works, too.
” His lips twisted in a wry grimace. “Kat’s going to be none too pleased when she finds out you’ve been hiding this from her.
She’s putting up a brave front, but I think this news will hit her a lot harder than either of you anticipate. ”
Chrissie believed it. “If you and Lily want to get out of here before the fireworks start, I won’t blame you one bit. Things are going to get worse before they get, well, even worse.”
Walsh glanced toward the retreating forms of the two girls before fixing his whole attention on her.
Basking in it felt like basking in the full glory of the sun, but not in the same way she felt around Scarlett.
Scarlett’s light was all-consuming and dangerous to the touch; Walsh’s was a beacon she could follow to any safe shore.
“You haven’t scared me away yet, Chrissie,” he said gently. “What makes you think I’m going to run now?”
* * *
The moment Chrissie and Scarlett stepped into the cabin rented for Walsh, Kat, Lily, and Rufio, she knew she was in trouble.
“Oh, he’s tall. And good-looking. And—wait—is that salmon I smell? Good for you, Chrissie. No one has ever cooked me salmon before.”
Scarlett uttered each of these sentences at top volume to ensure that no innuendo was missed.
The cabins at Tranquility Estates were spacious, with fully equipped open kitchens, two to four bedrooms depending on need, and a back patio angled to give the appearance that they were all alone in the most beautiful corner of the earth, but when Scarlett wanted to be heard, Scarlett was heard.
Chrissie was tempted to flee right then and there, but Walsh dispelled the mounting tension with his low chuckle.
“Don’t get too excited. The salmon is for Rufio. The rest of us are having burgers.” He paused in the act of basting the filet of salmon on the stove to offer Scarlett his hand. “You must be Scarlett. Come on in and have a seat. Can I pour you a glass of something? Beer? Wine? Hemlock?”
It was the exact right thing to say. Scarlett, who’d been looking particularly wilted on the walk over, perked up and flashed Walsh her most flirtatious smile.
“The hemlock will have to wait. I’m not due to meet my maker for another forty-eight hours. The wine sounds good, though.”
He winked at her and poured out two generous glasses of pinot grigio—a wine that happened to be Chrissie’s preferred choice, and that Scarlett immediately understood the significance of.
“And he buys your favorite kind of suburban mom wine?” Scarlett tsked as she settled onto a stool propped next to the kitchen counter.
Chrissie would have vastly preferred to see her on the couch—or, if possible, one of the chaise longues outside—but she knew better than to make the suggestion.
“No wonder you get all blushing and giggly when you talk about him. I officially approve.”
Walsh merely waggled his eyebrows as he returned to the salmon, but Kat bounded out of one of the bedrooms with a scowl turning down the corners of her mouth.
“Gross. Don’t encourage them.”
Scarlett started a slow blink at Kat as she took a leisurely sip of her wine.
“Don’t encourage two grown people who’ve been good friends for years?
Who clearly respect and admire each other?
Whose daughters are almost all grown up and will be going away to college in a few short years?
” She blinked even slower. “You’re right. What could I possibly be thinking?”
Kat flushed an angry pink. The color matched her bicycling shorts and flip-flops almost to the exact shade. “It’s not fair. You’re just taking Mom’s side because you know I can’t start a fight with you.”
“Sure you can. What’s stopping you?”
Chrissie’s whole body flinched. Her whole being flinched, actually, and she had to lock her muscles to keep from jumping into the conversation—though whether she wanted to support her daughter or support her friend, she had no idea.
In the next ten seconds, Kat’s face went through almost every imaginable emotion like the spinning of a slot machine, but it landed on a pinched determination not to cry.
“That’s not funny, Aunt Scarlett.”
Scarlett took another calm sip of her wine.
“I mean, it’s a little bit funny. I could say anything I want to you right now, and you can’t do anything about it.
For the next two days, you’re basically my emotional hostage.
” She pursed her lips and tapped them thoughtfully.
“Hmm. I wonder where I should start. With the fact that your eyeliner is lopsided on one side? Or that you’re single-handedly ruining your mother’s chances at happiness because you refuse to consider anyone’s needs but your own? ”
All the mounting color drained out of Kat’s face. Chrissie gasped and almost dropped her wine. Even Walsh coughed uncomfortably, the salmon starting to burn.
Chrissie opened her mouth to defend her daughter, but Lily stepped into the room then, Rufio carried in her arms like a baby.
The cat looked none the worse for his cross-country journey and actually seemed to be enjoying his captivity in the lanky teenager’s arms. He even mewled a protest when Lily set him down on the floor and turned to face the three adults, her arms akimbo.
“You guys are being serious jerks right now.” Lily snatched the plate of salmon her dad held out and put it on the floor for the cat. Rufio pounced on the pink square of fish in a way that Chrissie had never seen before.
She’d also never seen Lily willingly put an arm around Kat’s shoulders before, but she did that, too, offering Kat a quick squeeze before letting go.
“You’re not the only people this is happening to, you know,” Lily said. “If all you’re gonna do is make jokes like any of this is normal, then you’re the ones only thinking about yourselves.”
Chrissie stared, trying not to let her shock show as Kat threw Lily a grateful glance. “Thanks, Lily. That means a lot.”
“Yeah, well. I know injustice when I see it.” Lily shrugged as though uncomfortable with the new role being assigned to her. “You three can eat your stupid burgers and drink your stupid wine and laugh your stupid laughs. We’re heading down to the stables to see the horses.”
Kat visibly brightened. Chrissie wouldn’t have gone so far as to say that she looked happy, but she no longer looked like she was going to cry.
“Do you think they’ll let us ride them this late in the day?” Kat asked.
“I don’t see why not. And if they don’t, we’ll just take them out on our own and make our parents pay for the damages.”
With that, Lily turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. Kat paused just long enough to glance back at Chrissie—seeking permission, maybe? or a refusal?—but when all Chrissie did was shrug, she took herself off without another word.
“Well, really,” Scarlett said as soon as the door slammed shut behind the girls. “They don’t honestly think they can steal a pair of horses in flip-flops, do they?”
Chrissie almost spat out her wine. Kat was right, and there was very little about this situation that was funny, but she couldn’t help it. “Scarlett!”
“What?” Scarlett shrugged. “I’m just saying. If you’re going to storm off in a huff, it’s better to do it in a pair of tennis shoes—or better yet, Doc Martens. They’ll learn the hard way, I suppose. As did we all.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Walsh said as he raised his glass.
“Here, here!” Scarlett raised hers in return.
As they both turned the toast on Chrissie, a whirling mix of emotions flooded through her.
This moment in time was everything she’d never known she wanted: Scarlett and Walsh in the same room together, getting along as though they’d known each other their whole lives; her daughter and her daughter’s nemesis banding together to fight against the imagined tyranny of youth.
Even Rufio was content as he finished his meal, his furry little paws busy as he wiped away the crumbs from his whiskers.
Tears started falling before she could stop them.
“Oh, geez.” Scarlett made a motion as if to rush to her, but Walsh was the first to reach Chrissie’s side.
“Shh, Chrissie. It’s okay. They won’t get into any real trouble.
” He pressed a napkin into her hand and fell into a squat in front of her, his eyes gently probing as he scanned her face.
It was a position she’d seen him adopt hundreds of times before, a way of putting himself on a level with whatever teenage volleyball player was falling apart in front of him at the time.
“No, I know.” She dabbed the napkin ineffectively at her eyes. “It’s not that. At least, not entirely.”
Scarlett spoke up from her position on the stool. “It’s me she’s upset with, Walsh. Well, me and fate.”
“Mostly fate.” Chrissie sniffled. “And I’m not sad—at least, not about the girls.”
Walsh took her hands and lightly chafed them, his gaze still tender as he continued watching her for signs of distress. She’d never admit it to Scarlett, but that small intimacy meant more to her than a thousand romantic kisses on top of the Eiffel Tower or weeks of passion on the Amalfi Coast.