The Pickle Boat House

by Louise Gorday

  “Sure,” said Van. “Then you’re going to tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me!”

  “Promise. Drive,” he said, sliding down in the car seat.

  Van drove to the north part of town and parked near the boardwalk, a short walk from her house.

  “All right,” she said. “What’s going on? Who told you not to come back?”

  Ryan ignored the question. “Good to see you again,” he said, giving her a long, lingering squeeze. “Come on. Get out of the car and walk with me.”

  “Ryan, I was so worried when you didn’t come back after giving your police statement. What happened? Did you go to New York?”

  He said nothing until they were some distance away from the car. “I reidentified the body as Earl, and the police let me go, though I didn’t make any friends there. New York—well, it is what it is. We’ve reached a compromise, for the time being. And Nevis—let’s just say Officer McCall and I will never be close friends. I was trying to avoid him when I saw you there on the street. We’re good right now. He’s otherwise occupied.

  “Van, Hector’s been looking for you,” he went on. “I was afraid he was going to find you before I got back. Don’t let him anywhere near you. I don’t think he’d touch you—bullying is more his style. But that wouldn’t stop him from having a third party do his dirty work. Earl is proof of that. What have you found in the courthouse?”

  “Nada. Jean and I exhausted ourselves. The good news is, we met someone at the courthouse who’s going to help us.”

  “What kind of someone?”

  “Later. Don’t change the subject. I’m safe in the courthouse, but with you it looks like I need protection. Talk to me. Life’s been nothing but drama since I met you: dead bodies floating in the bay, reincarnated sons, hide-and-seek with the local constabulary, not to mention that crazy, uncouth Hector. I didn’t sign up for this. You need to tell me everything.”

  “There isn’t much more to tell. I’m not Ryan Thomas. That cold son of a bitch dedicated his life to a business full of illegal endeavors designed to please investors. I’m not him. Memories are coming back. I’m surviving this strange cosmic game, although I’m not entirely sure what the rules are—or how you win. Now I’ve been able to shift the game, but beyond that, I don’t know.

  “Look, Van,” he continued, “when I brought up my suspicions that I might be your son, that didn’t mean I wanted to resume my life as your son. It would be naive to think I could do that. But, it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us never to have brought it up. If I wanted to torpedo our relationship, I couldn’t have made up anything worse than what I’ve already told you.”

  Ryan nervously put his hands in his pockets and jingled his keys around. “I know the way you look at me, and I know the way I feel when I look at you. Nothing you or I say will change that. I’d like to stay in Nevis and try to work out a relationship with you. I’m just not sure right now what that relationship is. Obviously, I have feelings for you that aren’t exactly familial. I can’t deny that, and I don’t want to lie about it. Those feelings are intense, but at the same time, what do I do with that?”

  Van walked over and leaned up against the back of one of the benches. “When I first came to Nevis I was going to make my life simple, try to put myself and my life back together. I’m still one of the walking wounded, Ryan. I’m not sure I’m ready for a serious, deep relationship. I’ve made a point of making my life shallow—a superficial existence with few ties, the better to avoid the pain. There is healing, but there will always be the pain, too. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that God puts people in your life to help you heal, and I think that’s why you’re here. Your being my son goes against everything I have faith in and hope for. I want to believe that my son is with God and I will see him again. That hope has gotten me through every hour of every day since James died. I buried James, and that is where he’s going to stay. On the other hand, I’ve prayed so many times to have him back, even if only for a minute. I find it hard to believe that you could know so much without being my son. That’s my dilemma.

  “I understand why you shared what you did with me, Ryan. But you’re right. It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t go back to the way life used to be. Your bombshell doesn’t feel threatening anymore, and maybe I can move past it. I think the loving bond that existed for us in your previous life is eternal and has transformed into something else—something just as intense and pure. I want to have a relationship with you,” she said in a whisper. “I have deep and abiding feelings for you, and I can’t pretend they are maternal. I ache to be near you, emotionally and physically, and I haven’t felt like that in a long, long time. But I don’t want to carry on any long-distance relationship with me here and you in New York. I am not moving to New York, and I would not ask you to give up everything and live here.” She spoke with an air of finality in her voice. “I know that you would never be satisfied living in a small place like this.” She looked at Ryan and waited.

  Ryan joined her leaning up against the bench. “Can’t we let this scenario play out?” he said staring at his shoes. “Spend some time together? Try to figure out just what our relationship is? If it doesn’t survive time or both our scrutiny, I’ll walk away. Walk away completely, I promise. Won’t you at least give it a chance? We both deserve a shot at happiness. Maybe that happiness dictates that we should be together as something other than mother and son. Can’t you let time tell us whether that’s possible? I’m not going back to New York to the life I’ve had these last couple of years. That isn’t the person I am or want to be. How would you feel … about me staying? I could open a business here. Would you be opposed to that?”

  “What on earth would you do here in this little two-bit place?” she asked.

  She watched a broad smile grow until his whole face was alight.

  “Ryan, what have you done?” she said, an edge of alarm creeping into her voice.

  “Problem solved. I just purchased, by proxy, the old tomato warehouse that was a part of the auctions this afternoon. I’m thinking of opening a tavern, like an English pub, with good food—the kind of place that can be the heart of a little town. After some renovations, you’ll be looking at the proprietor of the brand-new Nevis Tavern.”

  Van laughed at the prospect. “What on earth? You never … You amaze me! When did this little nugget pop into your head?”

  “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while, daydreaming about what I would do with my life if I ever had the opportunity. Disillusionment’ll do that to you.”

  “The Tomato Tavern—there’s old stenciling of tomatoes on the side, right?”

  The very one. Would you like a job? I’ll need good-looking barmaids.”

  “No, I’ll pass on that one, thank you,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Need a bookkeeper, by any chance?” she asked, rolling a pebble around with her foot. “That’s what Jean does.”

  “That might work. I obviously need someone I can trust. I’ll have several positions I need to fill, but I can worry about those later.”

  Van stopped abruptly. “Oh, liquor license? Aren’t those kind of doled out according to who you know?”

  “Yep, and I know who, so not a problem.”

  “Who do—?”

  Ryan put his finger on her lips to shush her. “Not a problem, okay?”

  She smiled around his finger. “Okay.”

  They walked on, their long-legged shadows moving across the storefronts and bungalows.

  “Ryan, what about HYA? You were so worried about them before. How could you have solved everything with them so easily? They aren’t going to come after you?”

  “Nope, they let me walk away.”

  Van stopped and narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said they would never let you walk away.”

  “I guess I wasn’t as big a fish as I thought.” He grabbed Van’s elbow and started guiding her forward.

  “Wait. Stop.”


  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Ryan said, letting go of her arm.

  “No, not that.” Van put her hand on her hip. “Stop brushing me off like that. What are you not telling me? I don’t believe they just let you go. You made it clear they wouldn’t let you do that. Did you threaten them? Make a deal? I want specifics.”

  When Ryan didn’t react, Van lost her patience with him. She turned and walked away from him.

  *

  Ryan silently stood his ground. HYA was a subject that he would never be able to discuss fully with her. There were too many things he wasn’t proud of, and many others that he must protect her from. She had to be able to trust him, and maybe, after all she had been through, it wasn’t something she could do.

  “I can’t discuss HYA with you. You have to trust me.”

  She stopped but didn’t turn around. “I always need to be able to trust you. Without trust, there’s nothing. A relationship cannot exist without trust. I never want to doubt you.”

  “I know,” he said. “And I will never do that to you. I’m not lying to you now. There were no strings attached to my departure from HYA. Hector Senior looks on me as the son he never had. As a good businessman, he didn’t want to lose me. But as a better businessman, he realized I could do a lot of damage to the company if they threatened me. That’s the truth. Letting me go was a win-win solution.”

  Van turned and looked at him, weighing his words and his expression. Ryan stood his ground, trying to look sincere and hoping she would accept what he was telling her. If she didn’t cooperate, things were not going to work out. He exhaled and took a breath when he realized he had stopped breathing. Maybe she hadn’t noticed. A moment passed, and still they stood weighing each other’s emotions.

  “We’ve been through the win-win situation before,” Van finally said, breaking the tension between them. “I don’t find it reassuring. Okay … for now. But as God is my witness, if you’re not telling me the truth, I won’t be responsible.” She walked back and put her arm through his. “Where’d you learn to run a bar?”

  “I didn’t, but I don’t really have to know—I just have to hire the right people. They’re the ones that have to know.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like who?”

  “Like Bennie, the best barman I ever met. He can mix a martini and solve all your problems and never break a sweat. He’ll be perfect for Nevis.

  “Where is Bennie now?”

  “In Boston—Bennie from Boston.”

  Van cracked up. “You’re pulling my leg, right? There is no Bennie from Boston, is there?”

  “There most certainly is. I’m hurt that you would ever suggest I’m lying.”

  He gave her his most sincere face, but she didn’t take the bait. “Well, I can’t wait for the day when I get to meet this Bennie from Boston.”

  “You’ll be the first one I introduce him to, I promise. It’ll be right after I introduce you to Peggy from Poughkeepsie.”

  “You are the biggest liar,” she said, smacking him on the arm.

  Ryan laughed and ducked away from further physical attack. “You’ll have to get a whole lot stronger if you want to do any lasting damage,” he said, and he pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips before she could protest. But there was no protest. The kiss deepened, and they broke it only when they reached an unspoken line that neither was ready to cross.

  “If you want to get physical, I’ll win every time, said Ryan, chuckling. “And enjoy every minute of it, I might add.”

  Van laughed, too, but took his hand as she blushed at his brazenness. She stopped as the boardwalk turned away from town and headed back towards the shore. She seemed reluctant to continue in that direction.

  “Let’s go back to your house,” Ryan said, tucking her arm in his. “By now McCall should have figured out that I’m not there.”

  They walked quietly for a while, just enjoying the closeness.

  “There really is a Peggy, but not from Poughkeepsie,” Ryan said, with an impish smile. “I’ve known her for quite a while. But don’t get the wrong idea,” he added quickly. “Strictly platonic. She’s one of the best researchers I’ve ever known.”

  “I see. Maybe I should recommend people for your staff, just to keep you honest. I, too, know someone who’s a researcher. She does genealogy. By the way, what do you need a researcher for in a bar?”

  “Not a bar—tavern. Don’t make it sound dark and dirty. It’ll be a nice place. Good food, nice music—more of a family place than a bar. Why do I need a researcher? Because the tavern is going to serve a dual purpose. It’ll be a legitimate business, and it will serve as a front for my other little endeavor, as an investigator. It would be a good fit with my skills.”

  “And where are you going to get the capital to underwrite all these fabulous plans?”

  “Money isn’t a problem. HYA is really good about compensating its employees, especially the good ones.”

  “And you have no guilt about spending your ill-gotten gains?”

  “Ill-gotten?” He thought about it. “I guess you could categorize some of them like that, but not all. Not everything HYA does is below the belt. They have quite a few very profitable, worthy ventures. And no, no guilt, because I intend to use what I have for good things.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ALL THE WRONG BUTTONS

  Nevis was too small a place to avoid people for any length of time. Margaret Douglas had promised Hector that she wouldn’t help Van, but she could dodge her for only so long. They met several times at the courthouse before Margaret told her she couldn’t help her.

  “I was so hoping you could knock down the brick wall,” Van said. “Nothing new at all?”

  Margaret shook her head. “No, nothing. I’m sorry, Van. I’ve never seen such a difficult tree. I really thought I could help.”

  “No, that’s okay. I know you tried. You’re heading back to New York soon?”

  “Yep, done here. I’m heading out in the next day or so.”

  Van put her notebooks down on the porch retaining wall. “Want to grab a bite to eat? My treat—just a thank-you for all the help.”

  “I’d love to,” Margaret said, glancing at her buzzing cell phone, “but I have plans. “You know, I think I left that last document on the copy machine—all that work and then I just leave it. Be right back.” She headed back into the building, talking into the phone as she went. “Yeah, right here … No, leave it alone. Don’t come … please. Listen to me.”

  *

  Van made herself comfortable sitting on the low porch wall, watching the cars come and go in the parking lot and on the street, guessing at which ride or car matched up with each person leaving the courthouse. Then came a stumper: a blue sports car, moving fast when it hit the parking lot, flinging gravel and dust in all directions. It didn’t belong, and when the driver got out, Van froze. Hector Young. She was all alone, and Margaret nowhere in sight. As he approached, she silently prayed for it to be a brief encounter.

  “Ms. Hardy! What a pleasant surprise! I trust you’ve been well? I’ve been asking after you. We have some business to discuss.”

  “We don’t have any business,” Van said, trying not to stare at the bruise under his eye.

  “Are you waiting for Ryan? If so, maybe I’ll hang. We have some catching up to do, too.”

  “Ryan doesn’t work for HYA anymore. He walked away.”

  A broad smile spread across Hector’s face, and he laughed. “No one walks away from HYA, doll. If that’s what Ryan told you, then he only told you half the story. The only way he walked away was if he cut a deal for his firstborn. Must have paid a pretty hefty price, too, since he hasn’t told you. Better find out before you’re in too deep to walk away. That’s the most sincere advice I can give you.”

  “You haven’t had a sincere thought in your life, Hector. You just want to see how much of a wedge you can drive between Ryan and me. But you know, you’re a little late.”

  “I’m not trying to drive you
apart. Ryan’ll do that all by himself. You think you really know him? Can you really have a relationship with someone who can’t tell you about his past, because you’d be so revolted you’d bolt for the nearest exit?” Hector sidled closer.

  “Fuck off, Hector,” Van said as she caught sight of a scowling Ryan coming up the sidewalk.

  “Get away from her. Why are you here, Hector?”

  Hector turned and smiled at Ryan as if they were long-lost pals. “Officer McCall asked me to give you a message. Gentleman that I am, however, I will save that till later, because we are in mixed company. Van, on the other hand,” he said, turning and nodding in her direction, “was telling me about your change in employment. Come on, Ryan. You need to come clean with her. We both know there are still strings attached to HYA. My dad may be a bastard, but he’s not a dumb bastard. What did you promise him to let you walk away, hmm?” He leaned against the wall, comfortable in his smugness. “Whatever it was, when I become CEO after dear old Dad, it won’t be enough.”

  His guard was down, and Van and Ryan could see hatred for Ryan spilling out of him. He could no longer keep up the pretext of civility. “I’ll make sure someone puts you six feet under before I let you walk away. You’d better hope my dad has a long and prosperous life.”

  “Hector!”

  Hector whirled around to find Margaret standing behind him.

  “What’s … You know him?” Van gasped as she jumped down off the wall.

  “Maggie, baby, I didn’t know you were behind me.”

  Hector took a step toward her, but she backed away, freezing him in place. Confusion rolled across his face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t believe you said that,” Margaret replied. “What kind of person would say something … God, you’re out of control. You’re like someone I don’t even know.”

  “You know me better than anyone, Maggie. Sweetie, you know me.” Hector’s voice was silky smooth. “I love you. Ryan just pushes all the wrong buttons in me, that’s all.”