First Come Twins

by Helen Brenna

  “Enough of that.” Something else was on his mind and he was having a hard time voicing it. No doubt it had to do with Kurt and Lauren. “Thanks for helping with my dad.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Sophie said.

  “You were there. It made a difference to him. To me.” He tossed the blades of grass aside and looked into her face. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Kurt and Lauren. I wanted you to know that I understand.” His gaze penetrated hers. “You made the right decision.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’ve been days these last fifteen years that I wasn’t so sure. But once a big, heavy ball is rolling in one direction, it’s hard to change course.”

  “Boy, don’t I know that.” He nodded. “The other day, Lauren showed me the collection you have of my books and articles.”

  Sophie looked away, embarrassed.

  “It’s cool that she’s read some of them.”

  “She’s so hungry for the world.”

  “So was I. I was selfish and driven. If it had turned out that I was Lauren and Kurt’s father, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to put yours and the kids’ needs ahead of mine. I probably would’ve resented not being able to travel or write the way I wanted to—”

  “That’s not—”

  “I know.” This time, he did reach out and grab her hand, quieting her. “Whether you realized it or not, Soph, I had a lot of growing up to do, and I couldn’t do that here. If I’d have stayed, I’d have made everyone, including myself, miserable.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that, but what was done was done. “So now what? What are you going to do?”

  “About Lauren and Kurt?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m not sure yet, but for now I’m enjoying getting to know them. You raised a couple of great kids.”

  He rubbed her fingers in a motion meant to comfort, but, at the moment, that was the last thing she wanted from him. She imagined intertwining her fingers with his, bringing his hand to her lips. She yanked her hand away and turned toward the inn. “I wish you’d just make up your mind, Noah. About everything.”

  “MOM SAID SHE WANTED AN ADULT with us,” Lauren explained, a little breathless after having run all the way up the hill.

  “I don’t get why,” Kurt muttered, looking a little put out. “We went out by ourselves lots of times this summer.”

  Noah stepped out onto the porch and glanced at Kurt and Lauren. Finally, after all the time he’d been spending with them, he was feeling like an uncle. Only the big question remained. Was he father material?

  “She suggested we ask you,” Lauren explained. “Wanna come sailing with us?”

  “Oh, man,” he said, “I’m not sure I remember how.”

  “We can teach you,” Kurt offered.

  “You can, huh?” Summer was over. They’d be heading back to school soon and Noah was already missing them. What did that say about him eventually leaving the island? “Is your mom coming?” He was hoping she would.

  “She has to work.”

  Figures. It was her way of trying to disconnect from him, and he could hardly blame her. His stomach rumbled from hunger. “Have you guys had lunch yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then come on in for a sec.” He threw some sodas, water, bread and lunch meat into a cooler, grabbed a bag of chips and rejoined them in the living room. “Okay, let’s go.” Noah reached for his camera, a baseball cap and sunglasses and followed the kids out the door.

  “Are you two fighting?” Lauren asked.

  “Who two?”

  “You and Mom.”

  Noah looked at her. “It’s…complicated.”

  “Right.” Lauren and Kurt exchanged looks.

  Thankfully, on reaching the marina, they became preoccupied with tying and untying knots, and the uncomfortable subject was forgotten. A short while later, they were out on the glittering, relatively smooth waters of Lake Superior. Noah couldn’t have asked for a better day for sailing. With winds strong enough to build speed, but light enough to keep heavy whitecaps from forming, the weather was perfect.

  “How much longer are you staying on the island?” Lauren asked once they were out on the water.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I see your fake leg?” Kurt asked.

  Lauren whacked his shoulder. “Geez, Kurt!”

  “It’s all right. I get it.” Noah pulled up the leg of his jeans and let Kurt touch his prosthetic. “I remember once asking Mr. McGregor to see his fake eye.”

  “Is that the old guy who used to live by the stables?” Kurt asked.

  Noah nodded. “Used to? Where is he now?”

  “He died last year,” Lauren said.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Are you kidding?” Kurt trimmed the sail. “He was scary.”

  “Especially with a rifle in his hands.” Noah laughed, leaning back and letting the kids do the work.

  “He shot at you?” Kurt’s eyes bulged.

  “He threatened to if I didn’t quit running through his yard and raiding his apple tree. One day, his wife, Sally—”

  “The mean woman who works in the post office?”

  “Yeah, that’s her. Well, she invited me in for cookies.”

  “Cookies?” Lauren asked, her mouth gaping. “You’re kidding.”

  “And you lived to talk about it?” Kurt asked.

  Noah laughed, remembering all the rumors about the McGregors. “Believe it or not, she was nice. Even sat at the kitchen table with me. That’s when I asked to see the old man’s eye.”

  “What did he say?” For the first time since he’d met the boy, he noticed something damned close to respect in those young eyes.

  “He popped it out right there and held it in his hand.”

  “Gross!” Lauren exclaimed.

  “Bomb,” Kurt said, smiling. “You can’t make this stuff up.”

  Noah laughed.

  “Yes, you can,” Lauren said.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” Kurt said. “You gonna put that in one of your books?”

  “You seem awfully interested in writing, Lauren,” Noah said, breaking things up. “Aspirations?”

  “Yeah. I’ve started a couple stories and already finished one. Will you read it? Tell me what you think?”

  “Don’t,” Kurt warned. “It’s a romance.”

  “Sure,” Noah said. “I’ll read it.” He regretted all those years he’d missed spending time with these kids. “Not to make things heavy here or anything, but I want to apologize for something.”

  They both glanced at him.

  “I’m not quite sure how to say this, but I wasn’t much of an uncle all those years you guys were growing up. I’m sorry. It was me. My problem. It didn’t have anything to do with you guys.”

  “That’s okay,” Lauren said.

  “No, it’s not, but I’d like to keep in touch. From now on.”

  “Whatever,” Kurt said, looking away.

  His apology may not have meant much to them, but it lifted a weight off Noah’s shoulders. They were on the water for hours, snapping off pictures of each other, talking, eating and exploring one of the smaller, unpopulated, nearby Apostle Islands. He’d never spent much time around kids, but he enjoyed Kurt and Lauren’s company. There was only one person missing from the picture.

  “Let’s go see if your mom can break from work to get ice cream with us.”

  FROM HER OPEN OFFICE WINDOW, Sophie watched her children coming back from sailing with Noah. While Lauren was all for spending time with Noah, Kurt had taken some convincing, so she was glad they’d been out for a nice long time.

  Instead of going directly to the marina, they landed the dinghy on the beach in front of the inn. If she quickly glanced at them, she could almost imagine that it was Isaac with them, rather than Noah, but anyone who had known the brothers at all would’ve immediately noticed their differences.
Noah’s hair was much darker than Isaac’s, but it was the way he held himself that marked him. Noah was shorter and more muscular, whereas Isaac had always been taller and more slender.

  Integrate quite nicely. The words Noah had relayed from the L.A. gallery owner about Sophie’s photographs popped in her mind. She pushed them back. She had too many other things to worry about.

  The three sun-kissed sailors walked toward the inn. Noah saw her standing in front of her office window and waved. Kurt and Lauren ran toward her.

  “Come with us for ice cream,” Lauren said, standing outside.

  “Yeah, Mom, come.”

  Not sure if she should intrude on his time alone with the kids, she glanced at Noah.

  “How can you resist the finest homemade ice cream in the entire Midwest?” His imitation of Mrs. Miller was perfect, and Sophie laughed. “Please,” he added.

  “I’ll meet you around front.” She turned, walked down the hall and through the lobby.

  Jan looked up from the reception desk.

  “I’m going to get some ice cream with the kids.”

  “Sounds nummy.” Jan smiled. Then she noticed Noah waiting with Lauren and Kurt. “I almost forgot. Josie…”

  Not again. “You know what, Jan?” Sophie said, interrupting her. “I need to set the record straight on something, and I’d appreciate it if you’d quietly pass it around to all the islanders.”

  Jan flattened her lips as if it took everything in her to keep quiet.

  “All those years ago, when Noah left the island?”

  Jan waited.

  “He was gone long before I found out I was pregnant,” Sophie said. “I never told him, and neither did his dad. Noah never knew I was pregnant. I should be so lucky that he forgives me for what I did. And didn’t do.”

  Sophie walked out the front entrance feeling a little lighter. She and Noah walked side by side, following Kurt and Lauren across the lawn toward the shops in the main part of town. “How was the water?” she asked, breaking the ice.

  “Perfect,” Noah said. “Sailing’s not all that different than riding a bike.”

  “You haven’t been since you left Mirabelle?”

  “Nope.”

  His leg didn’t seem to be bothering him at all today. “Are you wearing your new leg?”

  He nodded. “The mirror therapy is working.”

  “Before you know it,” she said, swallowing, “you’ll be ready to leave the island.”

  He didn’t say anything. What could he say? She was right. He’d be leaving.

  “So where are you off to after…you heal up?” Sophie asked.

  “They’re expecting me in Iraq, but I’m not sure I’ll be going back.”

  “What would you do instead?”

  His gaze was completely unreadable. “I don’t know.”

  “You should stay here,” Lauren said.

  “You think?” Noah smiled.

  “If you want,” Kurt said, throwing in his somewhat reluctant two cents.

  Noah glanced at Sophie. Stay, she wanted to say. Please.

  “Actually, I have a beachfront house in Rhode Island,” he said. “Bought it a few years back. Kind of reminds me of Mirabelle with the ocean out the back door and a little town nearby. Only there’s a decent-sized city nearby and Boston and Manhattan are a stone’s throw away.”

  The thought of such big cities made her skin crawl.

  “You think you wouldn’t like living in a city,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “You’d be surprised. Whether you live in a big city or a small town, you can live your life however you choose. Isolate yourself, or explore every nook and cranny. Get to know only your immediate neighbors or involve yourself in the larger community. A city gives a person options. Your lifestyle isn’t defined by nature, like what happens when you live on an island.”

  Sophie had never thought of it that way. As they hit Main Street, his gaze was intensely focused on her. What was he saying?

  Somehow the kids had gotten ahead of them. “Come on!” Kurt called out.

  “We’ll catch up to you,” Noah yelled back. He turned back and touched her cheek. “Think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

  About leaving Mirabelle? About going anywhere, anytime with him? She already had, more times than she could count. The days of her envisioning herself anywhere except on this island were long gone. She was a Rousseau with an obligation to carry on tradition at the inn. She could not uproot her children. This was their home.

  The kids were standing outside the ice cream shop. “Come on, you guys!” Lauren was almost jumping up and down with impatience.

  Noah turned around and jogged backward. “Yeah, come on, Mom!” Suddenly, he tossed her his camera. “Why don’t you take some pictures, huh?”

  She hadn’t held a camera since last winter and the cool metal felt good in her hands. She followed Noah as he ducked inside the ice cream parlor, turned on the digital and immediately started framing shots.

  “So what’s good here?” Noah asked Lauren.

  Lauren pointed at the far case. “They have the best chocolate caramel fudge brownie in the world.”

  “Sounds like your mom’s favorite.”

  “Get the Bubble Gum Bomb,” Kurt said, taking a lick off his own double-dipped cone of bright pink ice cream.

  “Maybe another day.” Noah cringed.

  “He’ll take chocolate chip,” Sophie said, coming up beside Lauren.

  “She’s got that right.” Noah grinned and went on talking about ice cream options with Lauren.

  Sophie only half listened. She was more interested in taking pictures of them. She studied the three of them through the lens and suddenly, with everything in her, she wanted Kurt and Lauren to be Noah’s children. Maybe then he would stay.

  But if they weren’t? Then what?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS?” Sally McGregor asked.

  Was she talking to him? Startled, Jim glanced over his shoulder. Sally never small-talked while on duty. Seeing that he was alone in the post office and she couldn’t possibly be talking to anyone else, he turned back around. “What news?”

  “A flood of calls and e-mails have been coming in the last few weeks,” she said. “I hear every hotel and B and B on the entire island’s booked up for the rest of this summer and half of next. It’s all because of your son.”

  Oh, shit. “What did Noah do?”

  “He wrote an article for some big magazine that came out last week.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Just to set the record straight. I’ve always liked that boy.”

  Jim paid for the roll of stamps and walked outside. His doctors had wanted him to get some exercise in every day, and he was feeling pretty good, all things considered, so he headed toward the drugstore to see if anyone there knew about this magazine business.

  Marsha Henderson practically assaulted him the moment he walked through the door. “Chief, did you see it?”

  “Noah’s article? No.”

  “I saved the last one for you.” Marsha slapped a copy in Jim’s hands. “Who would’ve thought that boy had it in him. Your son’s a hero.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Jim bought some shampoo along with the magazine and wandered back out into the street, staring at the glossy cover. Below the picture of some movie star was the title of a feature article, Mirabelle Island, Where Past Meets Present.

  “That’s a damned nice article,” Ron Setterberg said as he passed by on his way back to the island equipment-rental office.

  As he continued walking, Jim flipped through the pages and located the piece. Sure enough, Noah had written it. His pictures were plastered across several pages. There was one with Sophie and the kids.

  “Jim!” Doc Welinsky was coming toward him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Doing good.”

  “You need anything, you let me know.” Doc gave Jim two thumbs-up. “The next time you see that son of
yours, you tell him I said good job.”

  “I think you should tell him yourself.”

  Doc shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

  Jim sat on the nearest bench. All that walking had taken it out of him.

  “You look like you’re not sure how you’ll get back to Josie’s.” That was Noah’s voice. His son was coming out of Newman’s carrying a bag of groceries.

  “Yeah, I probably got myself out a little too far.”

  Noah sat, putting the bag on the sidewalk.

  “How’d you manage this?” Jim asked, pointing at the magazine in his lap.

  “Right place at the right time. They had something else scheduled and the writer bailed on them.”

  “Looks like it took a lot of time.”

  “It was nothing. What was I supposed to do all these weeks?”

  “I can think of a lot of things. Instead, you stepped out of line to help your old neighbors and friends.”

  “Don’t read too much into it, Dad.”

  “Noah, son, that’s been my problem all along. Not reading you at all.”

  “Dad, don’t—”

  “I know we’ve cleared the air a bit. There’s one more thing that needs to be said.”

  Noah fell quiet, listening.

  “I don’t always understand you. You’re different than me. But I know you’re a good man. Just as good a man as Isaac.” He paused. “I’m okay with you leaving Mirabelle again. Just don’t stay away so long next time.”

  Noah nodded.

  “As for Sophie—”

  “I don’t think you’d better go there.”

  Maybe his son was right. Maybe this tentative truce between them was too fragile to withstand a volatile topic like Sophie.

  “She’s always been like flesh and blood to me, and well…” Jim said, pausing.

  “Don’t ruin it, okay? The less said, the better.”

  “This needs saying, too.”

  Noah looked as if he was holding his breath.

  “I know it sounds silly, me saying this, but you’ve got my permission—no, my wholehearted blessing—to take her and the kids off the island, too.”