Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dahlia’s hand hung over the steering wheel as she hummed the lyrics of “Sparks.” The escape to Shelter Island was the break she needed emotionally and physically.
Organizing Lil’s belongings and items collected by her family for over a century had become a daunting task with no end in sight.
In some small way, the family revelation made her feel that the decision to leave was the right one.
The house was now filled with heaviness, tarnishing her warm memories with soot.
She looked for signs anywhere and everywhere, but nothing revealed itself—aside from Noah, that was. He was her beacon in the storm.
It had been four days since Dahlia uncovered the glaring details of her grandmother’s affair.
After the shock wore off, her anger bubbled to the surface.
Her jaw ached from all the nighttime grinding.
It was often how she’d dealt with Spence’s condescending ways and affairs.
It seemed there was more than one. She buried her emotions so it became actual physical pain.
But this was different. On the one hand, there was this mystery that rerouted the past, and on the other, the birthing of a family connection.
She could water the flowers or let the truth starve them.
Every day felt like a balancing act between anguish and joy.
There was still no sign of Lil’s safe deposit key, but Dahlia was sure whatever secret lay hidden in that box was about Gran, this man, and her mother.
Which meant Lil had known. At this point, if she didn’t find the key, it wasn’t the end of the world.
I mean, what more could she discover? It couldn’t get worse than finding out her pop had likely been duped for five decades.
Her heart felt as empty as the tin cans in Lil’s barn.
She was torn between being in the present, where the sun showered her with warmth, and traveling to the past, where she might get stuck.
The ferry line was slowly shrinking, and Dahlia couldn’t wait to feel the breeze from the boat.
It was ninety-two degrees, but it felt like one-hundred-twenty in the car, with its black leather seats and no air conditioning.
The aroma of basil and sauce from the neighboring pizza shop filled her nostrils as she inched her car closer to the ferry’s opening.
She fanned herself as she voice-texted Spence.
“Did you email the papers? I still haven’t received them.”
She hit send. That man couldn’t be counted on to do the right thing, ever.
It was the story of her life. You would think he’d want this over with.
She certainly did. She shook her head. At least she had Noah.
She still didn’t know exactly where it was going or what they were to one other, but whatever they were, she was content for now.
Her car puttered as she dropped it into gear. Dahlia pulled Betty, her ancient black Saab hatchback, into the very last spot just as Kara called.
“Perfect timing,” Dahlia answered, feeling her tight shoulders relax a bit.
“And where are you going? You sound better,” Kara said curiously.
“To the restaurant. I am a little better,” Dahlia said, leaning her face into the salty air. “It’s good to be out of the house, away from all the deceit. I’m sure it will hit me later when I go home.”
“I still can’t believe it. Your gran never crossed me as a woman who would cheat.”
“Me neither. She was always so rigid and righteous.”
“She did have a soft side too.” Kara’s voice eased.
“She did. It’s just easier for me to focus on the bad things, I suppose.” Dahlia felt the corners of her eyes moisten.
“Not to change the subject, but did you find anything on your movie star grandfather?” Kara asked.
“Nothing. We googled, IMDb’d him, searched the internet for any clue or nugget. It’s like the man didn’t exist. But then again, the cast is enormous. It could be anyone.”
Kara hummed in thought. “Anyone listed in the credits with a G in their first name?”
“One, but she was a woman, Grace.”
“Grace Kelly?” Kara asked with unbridled enthusiasm.
“No, it wasn’t her, someone else. But Audrey was in it.” Dahlia’s smile widened.
Kara oooed. “Hepburn?”
“Is there any other one?” She laughed.
“So you’re telling me, your biological grandfather may have starred with Ms. Holly Golightly.”
“Yup. So it would seem, but again, he doesn’t exist.” Dahlia sighed in frustration.
“What about a name change. Plenty of people did it back then.”
“Yeah, that’s probably what happened. I told Noah he could ask his producer friend Penny, but I don’t think he’s been able to get a hold of her yet.”
“Intriguing. Speaking of McHandy, how is he? How many times this week?”
“I’ll never tell.” Dahlia laughed.
“More than twice a day?” Kara asked with emphasized curiosity. “I bet he’s giving you quite the workout.”
“Oh my God.” She laughed, feeling her cheeks grow red. She’d never been happier she wasn’t on FaceTime. “Next topic.”
“Damn, girl, you’ve come a long way since arriving at Lil’s.”
“I’ll say.” Dahlia felt her insides swell. Never in a million years had she thought she was capable of this kind of unhinged ownership of her desires.
“Way to own it.” Kara snickered.
“Ha, yeah. Listen, we’re about to pull up.”
“Oh, did you take my advice about lending Gretchen a few of Lil’s paintings?”
“Yeah, I have two with me, and I have a bunch of pictures for her to look at. I even posted one of Lil’s paintings on Instagram.
” Kara was right. Lil’s art needed to be seen.
“Just to see what people would say. I mean, I still don’t have much of a following, but that last picture of me in Lil’s garden got a lot of likes. ”
“Wow, I never knew you were capable of being this mainstream.” She laughed. “Bye, girl. Call me tomorrow.”
“Okay, will do,” Dahlia said, turning the ignition.
It was a Friday, just after five, so that meant cocktail hour for the residents on the small island.
A time to retreat home and kick a few back before dinner at one of the upscale restaurants.
Aside from the expanse of cars in front of her waiting to drive off the boat, it was quiet.
Just the way she liked it. It was like stepping back in time.
Dahlia drove up the short hill; the sun pierced through the canopy of tall trees.
The air was beginning to cool off, and she was no longer sticky with perspiration.
She pulled into a spot across from the Hive, took a deep breath, and gave herself a once-over in her navy dress and large tote filled with Lil’s art. Why was she so nervous?
When it opened, the door gave a long screech. There was music playing, but it wasn’t familiar. It was bluegrass meets folk. It was very much a Shelter Island vibe, and only added to Gretchen’s hipster, Williamsburg aesthetic, which Dahlia found so cool.
“Is that you, Dahlia?” a woman’s voice called from the back.
“Ah, yeah. It’s me.” She set her tote down on a barstool and looked around.
She spotted Noah’s handywork everywhere she looked, from the banquettes to the batten board walls and sleek organic bar made from mahogany.
Her eyes felt wide and bright as she grazed her palms across the recently shellacked bar top.
He was so talented. How did he manage to do all this and help her at the house?
She was still mystified. He really was something else.
Maybe he had superpowers after all. She let out a light chuckle, hearing Lil’s words in her head: He’s a keeper.
“Glad you’re here,” Gretchen hollered from the back. “I’m testing some last-minute recipes. Let me wash up.”
“Of course,” Dahlia yelled back, feeling her pocket vibrate.
She pulled it out; it was an email notification from the gallery.
It read, Please sign and return your onboarding documents ASAP.
Dahlia tried to swallow the boulder now wedged in her throat.
Was this the sign she was looking for? She squeezed her eyes shut.
As much as she’d known this day was coming, she wanted to remain in her lust bubble with Noah and didn’t want anything or anyone to pop it.
“Okay, so what do you think of the place?” Gretchen walked out in a cute army green romper, her hair in a high ponytail.
Dahlia looked up with wide eyes and tucked her phone behind her back. “The wall color is perfect. I love the lighter batten board underneath.” She inched closer to get a closer view. “It reminds me of shades of sea glass. Very English countryside vibe.”
“Oh, that makes me happy.” Gretchen clapped. She genuinely seemed happy that she was there. And that tickled something inside Dahlia that longed for friendship.
“I brought some photographs of my aunt’s paintings and a few so you could see them in person.
” She’d left the ones on Lil’s barn wall where they were.
Something told her to leave them be. Dahlia opened her tote and spread the copies on the table.
“The palette is bright with some moodier hues. I think the botanicals will look nice and go great with the farm-to-table vibe. And the name the Hive.”
Gretchen flipped through the impressionist botanicals, still lifes, and garden landscapes. It was way too quiet. Maybe she didn’t like them?
“We can mix them with any other pieces you have too,” Dahlia added, feeling her tone rise. “No pressure. They may not be your cup of tea.” Dahlia shifted her stance, waiting for Gretchen to respond.
“I love them. They are perfection.”
Dahlia let out the breath she was holding. “Great.”
“This one especially.” Gretchen held up the still life of a vase of echinacea. “The colors remind me of pickled cabbage.”
“I can see that.” Dahlia’s smile grew. She was still trying to find her footing with Gretchen. She liked the idea of having another woman in her life, even if she was leaving soon. Two weeks suddenly didn’t feel long enough, and she wondered if she should tell Noah about her plans.