Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
March 2025 - Nantucket Island
I t was a clear evening and unseasonably warm—sixty degrees Fahrenheit and with only tufts of clouds on the horizon. Ryan sat on the front porch of the Sutton Estate, shifting back and forth on the swing, watching Willa, Gavin, and Rudy run around in the grass. The scene brought back idyllic memories of his own childhood here at the Sutton Estate, screaming at the top of his lungs with his sister and cousins, getting so dirty that Grandma Dana ordered them to go immediately to the bathroom to wash up before they were allowed in the rest of the house.
When Ryan first brought Trisha here to meet everyone, they’d been young—twenty-two and eighteen—and without a doubt in their minds that their love was the most interesting and powerful thing about them.
Ryan remembered thinking, So what if the Suttons don’t like her? So what if my grandmother says some bad stuff behind my back?
The truth had been much messier and darker. It had pushed Ryan and Trisha across the continent.
Now, Ryan pulled out his phone and reassessed the photograph he’d taken of Trisha’s list of names—the list of clients Sarah Strong had taken from him and his mother. Since his discovery, Ryan had weighed the pros and cons of approaching his mother or his wife first. But neither outcome sounded nice. If he talked to his mother, Jackie would maybe say something like We told you not to marry that Reed girl! Once a Reed, always a Reed! Or—and this was worse—maybe she wouldn’t say anything at all, which would leave Ryan to make his own decision. But Jackie would always know and judge him based on what he did after that.
If he approached Trisha with the list, it meant she’d have to own up to what she’d done. It meant they’d have to have a real talk about the future of their marriage.
It meant it was probably over. Maybe it already was. Perhaps that was why tonight, when he’d gotten home from showing a house a few miles away, Trisha had grabbed the car keys and hollered, “I’m going out!” without looking at him.
Ryan hadn’t had the nerve to ask where she was going.
Suddenly, Willa appeared before him, her feet bare and painted with green. She was grinning and speaking a mile a minute. Ryan reached out to take Willa’s hands and steady her.
“What is it, honey?” he asked, trying to make his voice gentle.
Willa told him a story about her day: about how she’d panicked during a spelling test; about how she’d gone to the bathroom and cried and had a panic attack; about how Trisha had come to pick her up. “But we couldn’t come home,” Willa explained. “Mom says the house isn’t our house?” Her eyes glinted with fear.
Ryan fought the urge to lie to his daughter. All he wanted was to tell her they could stay here as long as they wanted, but that wasn’t their reality. His mother had decided, perhaps rightly so, that it was time to pass along the family property. Maybe that would force Ryan and Trisha to cut their losses. Perhaps it was a necessary result of having brought Trisha into the Sutton world in the first place.
Willa sat on the porch swing while Ryan explained what he knew: that the house had been in their family for generations, and they didn’t have as much money as they once had. Willa took everything in, frowning, touching her hair. Twice, she asked Ryan if he couldn’t just sell more houses so that they could keep this one instead. “It isn’t that simple, honey. I wish it was.”
A few minutes later, an unfamiliar car pulled into the driveway. On high alert, Ryan stood, frowning at the strangers, and put his hand in the air. But the woman who got out of the passenger side was smiley, her gray-tinged hair windswept. She waved back and said, “Don’t mind us! I just wanted to drive by the house one more time. My husband isn’t convinced, but I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.”
Ryan felt something cold drop into his stomach, but he kept his smile plastered to his face, not wanting to ruin his mother’s sale. Slowly, he approached the woman, hoping he could answer any questions and have her on her way soon enough. Her eyes glowed with captivation for the Sutton Estate, and Ryan wished he could see what she saw. He wished he could see the potential she understood to be true rather than the dark and alienating past that lurked over the Sutton Estate.
“You met my mother this afternoon,” Ryan said, extending his hand. “I’m staying here with my family till the sale goes through. Ryan Lewis.”
The woman introduced herself as Sadie and bowed her head. “Maybe your mother told you. We want to open a bed-and-breakfast, maybe right here.” She stretched her arms out on either side and raised her chin to the warm and balmy wind whipping off the Nantucket Sound.
“My husband thinks it isn’t warm enough year-round,” she said. “But it isn’t so bad today!”
Ryan gaped at her. A bed-and-breakfast? Why hadn’t that occurred to him before? It was a sensational spot, one that would appeal to tourists far and wide. With his marketing and advertising background and Trisha’s kindness and good humor, they were the perfect candidates to open their own. He wondered if this was their solution.
But then he remembered the list. The list backed him into a corner. His marriage was over.
Suddenly, his mother’s car appeared on the horizon, barreling down that empty road far over the speed limit. It wasn’t like her.
Sadie followed Ryan’s gaze and said, “Is that your mother?”
“Yes,” Ryan said, sounding breathless. He checked his phone, but there was nothing, no call, no text. “She drops by like that sometimes. I’m sure she wouldn’t if you, you know…”
From the driver’s seat, Sadie’s husband started to grumble. “Sadie, are you about done out there?”
Sadie lent her husband a half eye roll and raised a hand to Jackie as she pulled in. Willa, Gavin, and Rudy reacted quickly, eager to hug their grandmother. He put his hand to his heart.
Jackie popped out of her car and hollered over the driveway, “Mr. and Mrs. Raimond?”
Sadie laughed and waved. “We just wanted to take another look!”
Jackie’s smile melted. Suddenly, she took Willa’s hand in hers and marched around the nose of her car so that she stood just a few feet from Sadie and Ryan. She looked unsteady on her feet. “I’m sorry to say this. But we have a family emergency.” Jackie looked defeated. “The Sutton Estate is no longer for sale.”
“Goodness gracious,” Mr. Raimond said from in the car. “Sadie, get inside.”
Sadie stuttered. “I don’t understand.”
“Is everything all right?” Ryan asked, backing up.
“We need time,” Jackie called to Sadie. “Please understand.”
Sadie looked suddenly sinister, as though she didn’t want to believe what she’d been told. Her husband turned the key in the ignition and called out, “Sadie! Not one of your harebrained schemes again.”
“We’ll be in contact if the house goes back on sale,” Jackie affirmed with a sturdy wave.
Her eyes seemed to beg Sadie to please go.
Ryan, Jackie, and the children watched on as Sadie pulled herself back into the car and buckled her seat belt. Annoyance echoed off her face. When her husband backed out of the driveway, the rear end of his car took out the mailbox (just as Jackie had done back in February), and Willa, Gavin, and Rudy burst into laughter, pointing. The husband was unwilling to stop and drove on, leaving the mailbox looking like a chewed-up dog toy. Willa, Rudy, and Gavin went to check it out, leaving Ryan to holler, “Not too close to the road, you three!”
Finally, Ryan turned to find his mother pale and trembling. She clasped her hands.
“I think I know why Trisha was on Martha’s Vineyard the other day,” she muttered.
Ryan’s heart seized.
“Is she home?” Jackie asked.
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it.”
Jackie touched his arm gently. “She’s related to Sarah Strong, Ryan. She’s a Reed.”
Ryan’s eyes filled with tears. Immediately, he remembered his grandfather’s Cadillac parked in front of the real estate office. Immediately, he cursed his decision never to tell the Suttons about the stolen car. Had he turned his back on them?
But for whatever reason—maybe because of all they’d been through, maybe because of his vows—Ryan decided not to tell his mother about the list. Not yet.
Instead, he put his hands on his hips and fought tears.
He said, “Why didn’t we ever think to turn this place into a bed-and-breakfast?”
Jackie grinned. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Ryan blinked and blinked and tried to match his mother’s smile. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow at the office.”
Jackie hopped up and down. “I’m going to take the ad for the house down immediately. I can’t stand it. We can’t give this place away, Ryan! Not for all the money in the world.”
Ryan knew exactly what she meant.
“But what about your retirement?” Ryan asked her.
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Imagine me with nothing to do. I’d get so bored, Ryan. I need to see people. I need to tend to my family’s property. I need to let my roots grow deeper.”
Ryan nodded, turning to watch as Gavin carried the busted mailbox back to the house. Gavin looked older and responsible, eager to clean up the property and make it whole again.
“I’m going to get a hammer and nails, Dad!” he called.
“What an incredible son he is,” Jackie said, shaking her head.
Ryan’s emotions were all over the place. He didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll let you know what comes of my conversation with Trisha,” he offered finally.
Jackie squeezed his hand.
He expected her to say, We’ll help you through the divorce . It’s time for her to go. It’s past time .
But instead, Jackie winced and said, “Maybe we have it all wrong. Make sure to hear her side before you make any rash decisions. Promise me that. Okay?”
Surprised, Ryan cocked his head.
“What’s that look for?” Jackie asked.
Ryan shook his head. “I expected you to say something else.”
Jackie removed her car keys from her purse and smiled. “People change, Ryan. Even little old me.”
Ryan watched his mother back carefully out of the driveway and head back toward the house in which she’d raised him and his sister. When she disappeared around the corner, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted his wife.
RYAN: I love you, Trisha.
RYAN: When you get home, I need to talk to you. Just us. Please.