Chapter 22
“Why is Jacob not having a chess lesson today?”
“Hmm?” Noah turned from his blank contemplation of the view of the ocean to gaze at Isaiah, who was standing in the doorway of his study, looking seriously put out.
“Jacob,” Isaiah enunciated through gritted teeth. “Why is he not having a chess lesson today?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Noah replied with what he hoped was an indifferent shrug. “Did Grace email you about it?”
“Yes, she did. She said Jacob wasn’t coming for his lesson and offered no explanation, so I thought you might have one.
” Isaiah kept Noah’s gaze in steely challenge, and as much as he wanted to, Noah found he couldn’t look away.
“Noah,” he said warningly, and Noah felt ten years old again, in trouble for leaving the tennis rackets on the court or going out in the sailboat without asking.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Noah forced out. He knew Isaiah knew he was lying, but he wasn’t about to explain his love life, or lack thereof, to the old man. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Grace. She’d been embarrassed enough by what had happened between them a week ago now.
After Noah had apologized, Grace had scrambled off the sofa, her face on fire. “No need to apologize,” she’d said swiftly, reaching for their half-drunk coffee cups and whisking them away to the kitchen. “I blame it on the wine.”
Noah had risen slowly from the sofa and followed her into the kitchen, bracing his shoulder against the doorway as he tried to frame what he felt in a way that wouldn’t hurt her. “It’s not you…” he began, and she let out a wavering laugh.
“Please, Noah. No explanations are needed.” She’d flung up a hand as if to ward him off.
“It was an impulse of the moment, nothing more. Let’s not ruin a nice evening with explanations and apologies when I’d really just rather forget about it, okay?
” A steely note had entered her voice, and she’d folded her arms as she’d stared him down.
It was not, Noah had known, the time to explain why he didn’t trust himself to get involved with another person, even for so much as a single kiss.
“Okay,” he’d said quietly, and she’d nodded jerkily while he’d gotten his coat. He’d paused by the door, wanting to say something more, but he didn’t know what it could possibly be. And meanwhile Grace had been staring daggers at him, clearly desperate for him to leave, and so he had.
That had been a week ago, and they hadn’t seen each other since. Noah had hoped he could explain his thoughts more today, when Jacob had his chess lesson, but now that wasn’t happening, and it was obviously his fault. Isaiah clearly thought so, too. Noah couldn’t blame him.
“What happened, Noah?” Isaiah asked, his voice gentling a little. “I thought the two of you were friends.”
“We were friendly,” Noah replied cautiously.
He doubted Grace would consider him her friend now, and really, wasn’t that for the better?
He couldn’t be trusted. He knew that. And now she knew it too.
He raked a hand through his hair, before letting it fall to his side.
“Look, if you want to know why she canceled, why don’t you ask her? ”
Isaiah folded his arms. “So you’re saying you can’t think of a single reason why she would have?”
“Maybe Jacob is under the weather.”
Isaiah arched a single eyebrow. “She would have said if that was the case.”
“Isaiah…” Noah blew out an exasperated breath. “I really don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me how and why you pushed away that lovely, fragile, beautiful woman,” he snapped. “Because I know that’s what happened, Noah. You’ve been pushing people away ever since Jem died.”
“Don’t.” The word tore from his throat, raw and aching. “Don’t,” he said again, more quietly.
Isaiah was silent, clearly simmering in his own frustration. Well, Noah knew how that felt. He kept his gaze on the screen of his laptop, the figures blurring before his eyes.
“Your mother asked about you,” Isaiah finally said, and Noah stiffened.
“Did she?” he replied tonelessly.
“She’s concerned about you, Noah.”
He let out a bark of humorless laughter. “So concerned she hasn’t talked to me in eighteen months.”
“Don’t you think you might have something to do with that?” Isaiah pressed.
“I’m just honoring her wishes,” Noah replied, his lips curving in a smile as devoid of humor as his laugh had been. “You know that as well as I do, Isaiah. You were there.”
He pictured his mother at Jem’s graveside, her face contorted with both grief and fury as she’d raised a shaking finger to shove it in Noah’s face. Don’t talk to me. Don’t ever talk to me again. You’re no son of mine.
The words had fallen like hammer blows, shattering any last desperate and fleeting hope he’d been clinging to, that Jem’s death hadn’t been his fault, and that he was the only one who felt like it might have been.
When you had that kind of painful history, you didn’t kiss a broken woman back.
You didn’t trust yourself not to hurt yet another person you cared about.
Isaiah sighed. “So is that it, then?” he asked.
Noah shrugged, reaching forward to click the mouse even though he could barely focus on the computer screen. “Is that what?” he asked, his tone one of deliberate disinterest.
“When are you going to take some steps toward living again?” Isaiah demanded. “You can’t hide away here forever, all on your own.”
“Actually, I can.” Thanks to his investments as well as his continued thoughtful dalliance with the stock market, he had plenty of money. There was no reason to leave Grayhaven, ever.
“Noah…” Isaiah shook his head slowly, and now he seemed only sad, which felt worse than the old man’s former frustration. “It’s not healthy.”
“It’s wise,” Noah replied shortly.
“Wise…” Isaiah shook his head again, looking confused. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. This is what I want, Isaiah. I’ve told you that many times before, so please stop interfering.” He kept his voice sharp, but it didn’t deter the caretaker.
“I won’t stop interfering, as long as you’re here,” he replied with a weary smile.
“I’ve known you since you were a little boy, Noah, and I know you’ve always been lively and impetuous and full of fun.
And sometimes those qualities got you in trouble.
And for some reason they’ve made you blame yourself for your brother’s death. ”
“Isaiah—” His name was a warning, a strong one. Isaiah had never spoken so plainly before, and he did not want to listen to him speak so now. He couldn’t bear it.
“Jem wouldn’t want you to hide away like this, Noah—”
“Actually, he would.” Noah’s voice sounded like the crack of a gunshot, reverberating through the room.
“It was what he wanted, for both of us. I was the one who wouldn’t listen.
” He realized his voice was shaking and he had to press the heels of his hands to his eyes.
“Please leave it,” he pleaded, his voice muffled. “Please.”
Noah kept his hands to his eyes as he heard Isaiah shift where he stood, start to say something, and then fall silent.
Finally, with a long, sorrowful sigh, the old man shuffled off.
Noah dropped his hands from his eyes and drew a shuddering breath before he pushed all the memories, all the feelings, back, deep down inside him, where they belonged.
Then, his mouth firming, he reached for the mouse and started to click. Much better to focus on what he was good at, which didn’t hurt anybody, ever. Handling investments and making money.
When it came to people, he was nothing but a failure.
“Hey, long time no see!”
Becca waved at Grace as she strolled in from the beach, still in her waterproofs and waders, her curly hair pulled back in a bushy ponytail. It was only early afternoon, but it seemed Becca was done fishing for the day.
“It hasn’t been that long,” Grace protested with a smile. She’d seen Becca in passing over the last week, mostly just to wave to, because she’d been intent on keeping herself busy.
Ever since Noah had apologized for not kissing her back, Grace had been determined to turn over a new leaf and focus on the things that mattered—her son, her job, and getting her life back on track.
Heart-to-hearts, never mind actual kisses, with damaged, brooding, and inaccessible men were not part of her agenda.
And even thinking about that awful, awful moment made her squirm in mortification.
What on earth had she been thinking, kissing him like that, especially right after she’d been telling him all about Brad?
What a way to choose her moment. Well, there would be no more moments to choose, because it certainly wouldn’t happen again.
And so she’d focused on her job, walking the nature reserve twice every day with Jacob, checking on various feeding and nesting boxes, checking the shoreline for any litter or pollution, pointing out all the different seabirds—the Atlantic puffins and black-bellied plovers, the spotted sandpipers and ruddy turnstones.
Jacob’s nature journal had plenty of pages now, with a list of all the animals they saw and even sketches he’d drawn of them.
Together they’d repaired a nesting box for black-capped chickadees and crouched in the long grass by the beach as they’d watched a red fox sniff around.
She’d also finished cleaning the office, updated the files as best as she could as well as the website.
She’d even done some preliminary research on offering programs for locals and tourists alike—both bird and whale watching, as well as opportunities to volunteer walking the reserve, keeping an eye on things.
She intended to present Isaiah with a proposal as soon as she could work one up, because surely this little slice of heaven deserved more attention than it had been getting.
She’d also spent a lot of time with Jacob—as well as walking the reserve, they’d played on the beach, planted spring bulbs in the window boxes of the warden’s lodge, and gone to Eastport for groceries and gardening supplies, stopping in at the Boatload of Books for story time.
And meanwhile spring was coming to the island with joyful abandon—daffodils and tulips springing up in lush, verdant banks, the trees coming into bright green bud, the air holding that hint of warmth that was like a song to her soul.
Really, everything was great.
“What are you up to?” Grace asked Becca. “Finished for the day?”
Becca nodded. “Lewis has a dentist appointment so I’m running him into Eastport. By the way, my mom wanted to invite you to dinner,” she added. “Probably she wants the goss about Grayhaven, but you know, you’ll get a meal out of it, at least.”
“I really don’t have any gossip to share,” Grace stated firmly. She was not about to give anyone the lowdown on Noah. “But I’d be happy to come to dinner. Thank you.”
“Fair enough,” Becca replied with a laugh.
“But don’t say I didn’t warn you—my mom is like a terrier when it comes to ferreting out information.
Because, you know, as a Mainer, she can certainly keep her counsel, but at the same time she’ll give you the Spanish Inquisition without you even realizing. ”
Grace managed a laugh back, although she was more than a little intimidated by Bab’s forceful personality. “I consider myself warned,” she said.
“How about this Friday, six o’clock?” Becca suggested, and Grace nodded.
She didn’t have anything scheduled, not even Jacob’s chess lessons.
That morning, in a sudden ferment of anxiety, she’d emailed Isaiah to cancel this afternoon’s lesson.
It felt cowardly, especially as she’d offered no explanation, but she knew she wasn’t ready to see Noah.
She couldn’t bear to clock the expression of mingled pity and regret she felt sure would be on his face. Maybe next week.
Then again, maybe not.
But, soon after saying goodbye to Becca and heading back to the lodge, Jacob trotting by her side, she realized she should have known better.
At ten minutes to three, Jacob appeared before her, his expression both solemn and stubborn.
He tugged her sleeve and then nodded toward the door.
It’s time for chess. It was as clear as if he’d said it out loud, and Grace sighed.
“Not today, bud,” she said gently. “Maybe next week.”
Jacob frowned and then shook his head almost violently. He tugged on her sleeve again, harder this time, yanking her arm, and then gestured pointedly toward the door.
“Jacob…” Grace stared at him helplessly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take you to chess today.”
Again with the shake of his head. Unfortunately, Grace knew she had no good reason not to take Jacob to his chess lesson, and her son clearly knew it, too.
It seemed, she reflected, like one of the brightest moments of his week, and she hated depriving him of it, especially for what were essentially selfish reasons.
But she simply couldn’t face Noah yet.
“Jacob…”
He tugged her sleeve for a third time. Grace sighed.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I already emailed to say we weren’t going, but we can go up and see if Noah is free.
” Considering he pretty much never left Grayhaven, it was likely that he would be.
Likely, too, that he’d fumble through some explanation of why he hadn’t returned her kiss, and that was a whole kind of awkward Grace was determined to avoid.
For the sake of her son, she’d go to Grayhaven. But that didn’t mean she had to like it… or talk to Noah.