by Grace Palmer
Leslie smiled, but tipped her head down as if to hide it. “Thanks.”
Michelle pushed her bowl to the center of the island and cleared her throat. “Before we plan any more businesses, we should probably make sure we’re clear on the plan with this one.”
Leslie’s smile dropped. “I suppose so.”
The easy comfort they’d found there for a second was gone. Jill felt the urge to leave. No matter what the will had to say about it, Jill wasn’t part of this family.
But Grayson’s words echoed in her head. You and I own half of this inn. They can’t make any decisions without our approval.
Jill sat up straighter. “I guess we should talk about the debt first?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Michelle said at once. As if it was that easy. Like fifty thousand dollars was an amount you could find in the cracks of your sofa. “I’ll pay off the debt and buy out anyone who wants to give up their shares.”
“And do what with it?” Leslie asked, blonde brows furrowed. “If you’re the one paying for everything, what does that mean for me?”
The tension between the two was palpable. Jill leaned away on instinct.
“It means whatever you want it to mean, Leslie.” Michelle shrugged. “If you want to continue running the inn, then you can. If you don’t, we’ll sell and split the money.”
“You’d sell it? Just like that?”
“Better we get the money than the bank.”
Jill turned to Leslie. “Would you want to take over running the inn?”
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Leslie said. Her fingers folded and unfolded again and again, a nervous tic. “But it’s a lot to take on by myself. I’d have to hire help.”
“If you could afford it. Dad only hired you and he still had to take out a loan,” Michelle countered.
Leslie’s gaze snapped to her sister’s for a second before she looked away. “I don’t know a lot about the financial side of things, I guess. Dad never told me there was trouble. But I doubt it was bad enough I couldn’t turn it around. Maybe with some renovations and—”
“Renovations? With what money?” Michelle asked.
Leslie opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out.
“Well…” Jill stammered. “I talked to my brother, and I know he would be eager to sell. Of course, we don’t have a real connection here. And I don’t want to step on any toes. But—”
“You two have a say in what happens here. Your opinion matters,” Michelle said. “What do you want to do?”
Jill didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t her place. Now she was supposed to decide its future?
“Well, I think we should sell,” Michelle said when Jill stayed quiet. “And you?”
Jill swallowed and tried not to look at Leslie. She didn’t know these women. She didn’t owe them anything. The only person Jill was responsible for was herself and her mom. And her mom needed the money. They both did.
Better to wash her hands of this mess and go back to the one life she knew.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. I think we should sell, too.” After a beat of hesitation, she sighed. “And Grayson would agree.”
Michelle lowered her hand. “Okay. It’s settled, then. We’ll sell the Wayfarer Inn.”
Leslie sat still for a moment. It didn’t even look like she was breathing.
Then she slid off of her stool, collected the three empty bowls, and carried them to the sink. Jill was grateful for the sound of running water as Leslie washed the dishes. It drowned out the guilty thud of her heart.
9
Michelle
Afternoon At The Wayfarer Inn
Selling the Wayfarer Inn was the right thing to do.
Michelle could afford to get the inn out from under the debt their dad had left behind. But if the ship was sinking, she refused to keep bailing Leslie out with endless cash. Family business or not, maybe the Wayfarer’s time in the Vineyard sun had come to an end.
Michelle could accept that. The question was, could Leslie?
Her sister had been scrubbing at the same pot with a soft sponge for ten minutes. “I think it’s clean, Les.”
The nickname slipped out, but Michelle tried not to look surprised by it. That was the trouble with spending too much time in this old house. She slipped back into old habits.
But with the way Leslie had been avoiding her the last few days, it was obvious she had no interest in mending fences and building bridges. They were here to take care of business and then get back to their lives.
Or what was left of them, anyway.
Leslie sighed and dropped the pot in the wooden drying rack next to the sink. “I suppose you’d know best. Since you’re the one calling the shots now.”
Poor Jill shifted nervously in her seat, suddenly interested in her nail beds.
Michelle took a deep breath. Luckily, she was saved the trouble of coming up with a response by her phone ringing.
Unluckily, the call was coming from the San Francisco County Jail.
“I have to take this,” Michelle blurted. She didn’t answer until she was out alone on the front porch. “Hello?”
An automated female voice responded. “This call is coming from the San Francisco County Jail. Would you like to accept the charges?”
“Yes, yes, for goodness’ sake.”
The phone rang twice more before Tony answered. “Hey, Michelle.”
It was strange how normal he sounded. How casual. If Michelle had been calling from the inside of a jail, she’d be an utter wreck.
“I haven’t heard from you.”
“My lawyer advised against calling you at this stage of proceedings,” he said coldly. “Besides, you weren’t exactly supportive on the last phone call.”
“Maybe I could have been more supportive if you’d told me anything that was going on with you! I had thirty seconds to process your situation.”
“What was there to process?” he snapped. “I told you the charges were bogus and you didn’t believe me.”
“Because it’s hard to believe someone who never tells you anything!” she shouted back.
Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose and dropped her head. A perpetual stress headache had been pounding against her forehead for days. No amount of pain reliever seemed to touch it.
She took a breath and worked hard to moderate her voice. “I barely even know what you do for a living, Tony.”
“Please let’s not be so dramatic.” She could hear the eyeroll in his voice. “If you don’t know what I do, then that’s your own fault.”
“No. We’re not doing this. You’ve cast me as the clueless housewife for twenty years, and I’m not going to do it anymore. You have to tell me what is going on,” she demanded. “Now.”
“This is why Arthur didn’t want me calling you,” he sighed. “But I told him this part should come from me. I didn’t want you to hear about it in the papers.”
Michelle steeled herself for whatever Tony might say. She’d had enough surprises over the last few days that she knew it was best to expect the worst. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be pleasantly surprised. Maybe something would actually work out in her favor.
Or maybe not.
“Well, since it seems the District Attorney is actually planning to move forward with this ridiculous case, the fund and all of the profits from it are evidence. Meaning all of our assets are evidence.”
“Okay,” Michelle said, drawing out the word, waiting for the truth to click into place. “What does that mean?”
Tony exhaled. He hated explaining himself. Even when the girls were little, Michelle had to help them with their homework. Tony would explain it once, and if they didn’t get it, they were on their own.
“It means our assets will be frozen,” he explained.
“Frozen.” She tested the word out on her tongue, trying to wrap her mind around it. “Like, inaccessible?”
“No withdrawals, no transfers, none of that. Basically, we can’
t touch it.”
“For how long?” Michelle looked ahead at the curb. Her car was paid off. That was one good thing, at least. “What about the house? Can they come for the house?”
“I guess technically they could, but the accounts won’t be frozen for long enough for that to happen,” he told her. “Like I’ve said, I’ll be out of here before you know it.”
After so many years of marriage, Michelle wanted to believe Tony. She wanted to trust him, to have faith that he’d been telling her the truth, that he wasn’t a fraudster and a cheat.
But she couldn’t quite get there.
Every time she tried to shove the doubt away, another memory would resurface. For years, Tony dabbled in tech start-ups. He’d invest money and cash out later when the business sold. Every time, he’d brag to Michelle about how much money he’d made, offering figures down to the penny. He was eager to revel in his success.
Then he’d gone to work with Mike and all of that stopped.
Suddenly, the door to his at-home office remained locked around the clock—from the outside when he wasn’t home and from the inside when he was. Dropping in on him at work was no longer a romantic surprise but a massive inconvenience.
It was easy—at first, at least—to chalk it up as Tony being a bit of a workaholic. In hindsight, it seemed… sneaky.
“You never actually told me how much money you brought in per month, you know?” Michelle said. “I don’t even have the password for our online bank account. I’ve never seen a statement.”
“And I’ve never touched the toilet brush,” he snapped. “What’s your point?”
Michelle’s throat thickened, the last few days catching up with her all at once in the form of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “How much of it was a lie?”
“If this is what you want to use our limited time talking about, then I’d rather hang up and—”
“How long have you been lying? Since the very beginning?” The thought felt like a boulder in her stomach. If it was true, she didn’t know how she’d ever stand up again. “Or is it recent?”
She gripped her knee with white knuckles. The ring on her finger caught the light. A large circular diamond with a ring of gold and diamond-crusted petals fanning out around it. Tony had given it to her a few years earlier. It was hard to remember exactly when because it hadn’t been for any special occasion. Not an anniversary or a birthday or Valentine’s Day. It had just been a normal week day. He’d come into the kitchen, a lopsided grin spread across his face, his arms folded behind his back. “I knew I’d find you in here.”
“Well, it’s dinner time,” she’d laughed. “Someone has to do the cooking around here, and I doubt it’s going to be you.”
He laughed. “Why would I cook when I have your talents and two daughters who need to learn? Seems like a waste of everyone’s time.”
Michelle always rolled her eyes when he said things like this. He liked to get under her skin and Michelle didn’t want to play into his hand. Besides, she liked taking care of her family. Liked that they depended on her for something.
“Why were you looking for me?” she’d asked, checking the clock above the oven. It was just after six. “You’re early.”
“Because I’m excited. I have something for you.”
When Michelle turned around, his hands were out, a little black box nestled in his palms. Before Michelle could say anything or reach for it, Tony flipped it open. If possible, he beamed brighter than the diamonds.
“What is this for?” Michelle had gasped.
Tony had plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. A perfect fit. “Because I can.”
For days, Michelle had admired the ring, wagging her finger whenever she was outside to watch the gems catch the bright California sun, reflecting rainbows. He loves me, she’d thought.
Now, when she wagged her finger, the ring reflected the fleecy blue sky of Martha’s Vineyard. It looked cold. Duller, somehow.
“Where did the ring come from?” she asked, staring down at the jewelry without blinking. “The ‘because you could’ ring. Where’d you get that money, Tony?”
Tony snorted. “I’m not dealing with this, okay? I’ve been told by my lawyer not to answer any questions unless he’s present. I didn’t realize I’d need him with me when talking to my wife.”
“I think I might need a lawyer, too,” Michelle murmured. “Because I can’t be your wife anymore. Not right now, at least. Not when I can’t trust you.”
There was a long pause before Tony spoke again. “Seriously? Some investors lost their money and pointed the finger at me and now you don’t want to be married anymore? Is that what you’re saying, Meesh?”
He made it all sound so casual. So normal. As if people were charged and imprisoned for things like this all the time. Like him calling her from jail was just another day in the life.
“I guess it is,” she murmured. “You lied to me, Tony. And to the girls. You’ve destroyed us and… and I can’t make this okay. Not this time.”
He snorted again. “Okay. Fine. Well, when I have my money back, and you’re missing the life on Easy Street that I provided, don’t come crawling back to me. You won’t find me very welcoming.”
The line buzzed and went dead.
She didn’t mind. She didn’t want Tony to hear her cry.
Her head dropped down to her knees and Michelle tried to breathe between sobs. It didn’t go very well. The best she could do was muffle the noise against her pant legs, hoping Leslie and Jill wouldn’t hear.
Her life had fallen apart quicker than she ever thought possible.
Michelle didn’t know how long she sat like that before her phone rang again. It could have been a minute or an hour or a lifetime. She was tempted to throw the cursed thing in the ocean without looking. It had brought her nothing but trouble the last few days.
But then she saw the picture her daughter Kat had set as her contact photo—a shot of her grinning, an orange peel covering her teeth, while she sported the rainbow-colored umbrella hat she’d bought from a vendor on the beach. It was absurd and, despite everything, Michelle’s mouth quirked into the tiniest smile.
Quickly, she sniffled, cleared her throat, and answered. “Hey, baby girl.”
“Mom?” Kat asked. “Where are you?”
“I’m still in Martha’s Vineyard. Grandpa’s funeral was this morning.”
The girls had offered to fly down from school for the funeral, but Michelle told them it wasn’t necessary. As they’d gotten older, they’d spent less and less time on the island. Despite Michelle’s hopes when they’d been born that the whole family would gather for Fourth of July cookouts in the Inn’s wide backyard or that she’d get to take the girls to movies at the Martha’s Vineyard Film Center, their family had never been that close. When she and Leslie had their falling out, things had only gotten worse.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Kat said. “Are you okay?”
Michelle turned her head away from the phone to sniffle. “I’m okay. There’s just a lot to deal with here and—”
“My card was declined.”
Michelle held her breath. For a moment, she’d thought maybe she could hide this from the girls. Their cars and school were paid for through the end of the year. Maybe they wouldn’t have to know right away. But she’d forgotten about their debit cards.
“Beth tried hers and it didn’t work, either,” she continued. “She couldn’t even buy a coffee.”
Michelle pressed the heel of her palm into her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
For marrying your father, she almost said.
“For not telling you what was going on,” she said instead, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice. “There has been so much happening, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but… your dad is—”
Kat gasped. “Oh my God, is Daddy okay?”
“He’s fine,” Michelle added quickly. Even though “fin
e” seemed like a much too positive spin on this situation. “I mean, he is alive and well. But he’s in jail right now.”
“Jail?” Kat screeched.
A second later, Michelle could hear another voice in the background and then Beth was holding the phone. “Mom? Is Dad in jail?”
“Is Kat okay?” Michelle asked.
“She’s fine. You’re on speaker. What’s going on?”
Michelle hesitated. “I don’t want to upset you both.”
“Too late for that. Don’t lie to us.”
Was this Michelle’s fault? Maybe if Michelle had let them see the cracks in her and Tony sooner, the collapse of their world wouldn’t feel so sudden. Maybe if Michelle had acknowledged the cracks herself sooner, things wouldn’t have felt so bleak.
“Your dad has been charged with embezzlement. He’s in jail. Our assets are frozen.”
“Like Bernie Madoff?” Beth asked.
Michelle hoped Tony wasn’t involved in something as big as all that. “I don’t know the extent of it. I just found out a couple days ago. He lied to me about it.”
“He lied to all of us.” The sharpness in Beth’s voice was shocking.
Kat cut in, her voice wobbly from crying. “Will we have to leave school?”
“No.” Michelle shook her head. “Everything is paid in advance. You’re good for the rest of the year.”
Next year would be a bridge they’d have to cross when they came to it. Right now, Michelle could only think one move at a time. If she expanded her view beyond that, she’d collapse in on herself.
Kat let out a sob on the other end of the line. Beth was eerily silent. No bickering between them. No rustling sounds of movement as they bustled around their dorm. They were still and quiet, waiting for Michelle to make things okay for them.
The problem was, Michelle didn’t know if she could.
She took a deep breath. “Your dad is still your dad, no matter what, okay? He loves you, and we’re all going to get through this.”
“He lied to us,” Beth snapped. “He’s the one who wanted me to study business.”
Michelle’s heart cracked. She had to hold the phone away from her before the girls heard her shaky breathing.