As the Light Fades (ARC)

by Catherine West

  “I’ve resigned.” Dad sat forward, hands splayed, like he was trying to explain something to his students and they weren’t getting it. Actually, it didn’t look like he was getting it either.

  “Resigned? As in you quit your job?” The job that had meant more than anything in the world to his father for longer than Matt could remember.

  “Yes.” Mom’s sigh was heavy as she pushed her hair back into place. “Yes, Matthew. Your father has left the university.”

  Matt scratched his chin. “Why, exactly?” The esteemed Professor Stone was one of Harvard’s elite. He ran the History Department like a Brigadier General. People lined up to get into his lectures. Matt never understood the fascination himself; the Greeks, Ancient Rome, The Golden Age . . . but apparently a lot of people loved it. And in that world, his father was Zeus.

  Mom laughed a little awkwardly and reached for the bottle of wine on the table beside her chair. “It appears that your father is a bit of a male chauvinist pig, if you can imagine.” She topped up her chardonnay and took a sip. “Telling young women that they should stay in the kitchen where they belong, barefoot and pregnant no less, seems to be frowned upon by the administration.”

  “Now, Phyllis.” Dad narrowed his eyes and put on his black-rimmed spectacles. “That is not what I said, and you know it.”

  “You may as well have.” She waved a dismissive hand, her mouth pinched in a thin line. “It’s how it was construed.”

  “I don’t care how it was construed!” Dad snapped. “It was misconstrued! I’m innocent. I can’t just be kicked to the curb like this! Tossed out like a stack of old newspapers! I have tenure, I have—”

  “Harrison, they don’t give a rat’s ass what you have!” Mom hissed. “There have been enough complaints over the years, Lord knows. It’s a wonder this has taken so long. We’re not living in the 1950’s, darling. This is the ‘Me Too’ era, and they’ve got you by the—”

  “Wait, whoa! Time out.” Matt put up a hand and stared them down. “Complaints? What happened, exactly? Did you resign or were you fired?”

  “It was ‘strongly suggested’ that I resign,” Dad growled. “In the interest of all concerned, I agreed.”

  Matt let out a slow breath. Oh, this had to be bad. Really bad.

  Dad stood and strode across the rug. Adjusted the photos on the mantel. Brushed fluff off his sweater. Walked the room with hunched shoulders, his usual swagger gone. Eventually he sat down again. Finally, he met Matt’s eyes, massaged his jaw, and nodded. “Three female students threatened to file a sexual harassment case against me.”

  Matt pressed his head into the back of his chair, folded his arms, and waited until he could trust himself to speak. He glanced at his mother, watched the way her hand trembled as she grasped the stem of her wine glass, and wondered how much she was drinking these days. He turned back to his father. “Three. Sexual harassment. Complaints.” He took a deep inhale and let it out as slowly as he could. “What did you do, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. Stop saying exactly. I don’t know, exactly. I make comments. You know.”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  “You father is a flirt, Matthew. An incorrigible flirt. And, let’s be frank, sometimes he can be a bit of a pig. Years ago he got away with it and nobody said anything. But the days of the Old Boys’ Club have passed us by, and now it is time to pay the piper.”

  “Oh, shut up, woman!” Dad’s face got beet red, and Mom sat back with a smug smile.

  “Did you . . .” Matt had no idea how to say it. “How far did this go?”

  “Now look!” Dad pointed a thin finger at him, brown eyes blazing. “I am a man of integrity! I don’t care what they said about me. Yes, in hindsight, my comments were derogatory. My behavior may have been demeaning. Yes, perhaps I do have antiquated views and voice them when I should keep my mouth shut, but never, not once, have I ever laid a hand on any woman who was not my wife. And that is the honest to God truth.”

  Mom gave a quick nod. “It’s true. The girls said it was all verbal. If it were anything more, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now, I can tell you that.”

  Dad kneaded his brow. “Well, I’m sorry for all of it. But I am still without a job.”

  “I suppose this is where we should be thanking my parents.” Mom sniffed and fiddled with the rings on her finger. “We shall hardly be destitute, dear. You don’t have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to. You’ve never really needed to.”

  “All well and good for you to sit on your family’s pots of gold, darling wife. I didn’t earn that money.”

  “You’ve not complained whilst spending it,” she retorted.

  Matt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He swore he could physically feel his blood pressure rising. He was twelve years old again, getting ready to creep out the back door and catch the T to Pat’s house, unable to stand the sniping a minute longer. Why his parents hadn’t divorced eons ago was one of life’s great mysteries.

  “Okay, so you’re unemployed. I still don’t get why you’re here.”

  They both looked at him like he was stupid.

  “The scandal, Matthew!” his mother cried. “Honestly. Use your brain. Can you imagine what our friends are saying about us? About this whole horrid situation? It’s too much. I had to leave a DAR meeting last week because of it. Vicious women spreading lies! You have no idea.”

  He truly didn’t. Matt gave a slow nod and closed his eyes a minute. Now he was getting a full-blown headache. “So basically, the two of you are hiding out here until this whole nasty business blows over?”

  “Precisely, darling.” Mom rewarded his genius with a rare, winning smile. Matt suddenly felt very, very tired. His mind moved rapid-fire over the numerous other options available to them. A round the world cruise. A villa in the south of France. London. Paris. But no, here they were, on Nantucket. In his home.

  “And this would be for how long?”

  “Oh, at least until after the holidays.” She drained her glass and stared at his father. “Don’t you think, dear?”

  “I don’t care. I just do what I’m told.” Dad had picked up the book again, appearing quite enthralled by its pages. “Do you know my one big regret in life, Matthew?”

  “No idea, Dad.” Seriously?

  Dad clapped the book shut with a harrumph. “We never went sailing. You and I. Never did a lot of things. I was always too busy, wasn’t I? Ah, well. Bit late in the season for sailing now, I suppose. Although, I’m sure there are those who might think my sinking to the depths of the vast Atlantic would be the perfect solution to this grand debacle.”

  “Sheesh, Dad,” Matt muttered, raking fingers through his hair.

  “Oh, don’t listen to him! Harrison, you are widely exaggerating as usual, and quite frankly, it’s getting tiresome.”

  “Mm.” Dad got to his feet with a blustery cough. “As are you, my dear. As are you.” He slashed his arm through the air in great flourish and drew himself up. “I am taking my leave. Goodnight.”

  He left the room in a hurry. Matt opened his mouth, shut it again, and sat back.

  “Oh, just say it,” Mom spat.

  Matt shook his head. “I’m not real sure what to say.”

  “Well, that’s a first.”

  He took a moment. Finally let out his breath and looked at his mother. “You okay? This is kind of a big deal.”

  “Of course I’m okay.” Her shaky smile contradicted that. “I’m not going to leave him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m . . . okay . . . why not?”

  “Because I love him, God help me. And I believe he can change. And if he can’t . . . well, I suppose then I’ll have a decision to make.”

  Matt let out a long sigh and voiced his thoughts. “Why didn’t you just take a cruise or something? Why come here?” Why bring me into it? Matt felt a little bad for that, but really . . .

  “I considered everything.” She picke
d up her iPad again. “Suggested several other options, as a matter of fact. Italy. Ireland. He does love Ireland. But your father didn’t want to go anywhere. He’s been quite down in the mouth over the whole thing, as he should be. He insisted on coming here. I never thought he liked the place all that much. But here we are.” She pasted on a smile, as though being on Nantucket was the best thing in the world, and resumed her reading.

  Matt mulled that over. The faintest flicker of hope sparked again. They had come, knowing Mia was here. With all the bitter past between them. They had come. Was it possible for their relationship to change after all this time? He stared at the ceiling and willed that hope away. He’d been disappointed before.

  A door closed upstairs. His father’s footfalls told him it was the smaller room on the other side of his bedroom. Not the guestroom with the queen bed he’d made up for them. And with that definitive click, Matt realized his parents were sleeping in separate rooms.

  thirteen

  Liz kept an eye on Mia as the girl swept the floor of the empty gallery on Tuesday afternoon. Watched the way she paused in front of each painting, stood back a little, tilted her head this way and that.

  Interesting.

  Lynnie and Dad would do the same thing. Whenever her family had visited the mainland, no matter where they landed, there would always be a mandatory few hours spent at some art gallery or museum. Liz enjoyed the museums best, but the boys would be bored out of their minds. Lynnie and Dad loved scrutinizing each piece of art and discussing it in great detail. Liz glanced at Evy and found her also watching the girl.

  “Well, I’ll be darned,” the older woman said softly.

  “She could be looking for dust.”

  Evy chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Mia resumed her sweeping, but her gaze kept returning to the painting on the wall. One of Lynnie’s. A beach scene with Wyldewood in the background. Actually, that particular painting was a favorite of Liz’s. A pinch of pride at Mia’s appreciation of the piece took her by surprise.

  “Are you going to say anything?”

  “Not just yet.” Evy picked up a pile of papers and headed for the back room. Liz rolled her eyes. Evy thrived on being mysterious. She returned with her handbag over one shoulder. “Well, I’m off to that blasted doctor’s appointment. Goodnight, Liz. Goodnight, Mia.”

  Mia was absorbed in the painting again. Evy walked across the gallery and stood behind the girl. “Sucks you right in, doesn’t it?” Mia jumped a foot, and Liz grinned at Evy’s raspy laugh.

  “I was just looking,” the girl mumbled.

  “No.” Evy shook her head with a knowing smile. “You were appreciating. As one with any knowledge of fine art would be expected to do.” Mia shrugged and shuffled off with the broom, her cheeks a little flushed. “See you tomorrow, darlings.” Evy sent Liz a smile and flounced out.

  As the door to the gallery opened and closed, Liz caught a glimpse of three girls and a taller boy out on the sidewalk. She checked her watch. Mia was due to leave in about five minutes.

  Mia returned, shot a look at the door, and then hovered at the desk. “Got anything else for me to do?”

  Liz raised a brow. The girl had grudgingly worked through Evy’s to-do lists since starting at the gallery, mumbling complaints under her breath all the while. Today she was asking for more work? Something was up.

  “Did you turn the answering machine on?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Done the bathroom?”

  “Yep.” Mia scratched chipped black polish on her fingernails and shifted from one foot to the other. Her attire was a little more presentable—jeans with a white long-sleeved cotton blouse with a plaid waistcoat overtop—but the clunky boots still bothered Liz. And those awful piercings gave her the shivers. At least the girl didn’t interact with the customers.

  “Well, good.” Liz shut down her computer. “Looks like you have some friends waiting for you. You can go. I’ll lock up and put the alarm on.”

  “They’re not my friends.” Mia looked toward the door again. Liz began to get the picture. Something about this situation put her on alert.

  “Is your uncle picking you up today?”

  “No.” Mia fiddled with the black leather bracelets around her wrist. “He had a meeting, then he’s working. I’m supposta take the bus.” Liz registered a faint look of fear in her eyes. She’d forgotten Matthew had mentioned he’d be working tonight.

  Mia clearly did not want to go out there by herself. Liz put some files away and locked the drawers on the front desk, and contemplated the matter. She really didn’t want to get involved in the kid’s high school drama.

  “I guess I’ll go then.” Mia shuffled toward the door like she was heading for a firing squad. Liz sighed.

  “Mia.”

  The girl turned expectantly. “What?”

  “I’m pretty much ready to go. You can ride with me if you want. I have to stop by Wyldewood first though.”

  “What’s Wyldewood?”

  Mia’s look of confusion made Liz grin. “Sorry. That’s the name of my family’s house. Where I used to live. I need to go walk our dogs.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Mia shifted her backpack to her other shoulder.

  Once the alarm began to beep, Liz pushed open the front door, let Mia go first, then locked up. The girl walked quickly past the group of kids.

  “Hey, Mia,” a girl with long blond hair called. “How’s your little job? Community service or what?”

  “Mia, how’s your mom?” another yelled. “Still in the slammer?”

  Mia kept her head down and kept walking. Liz figured she didn’t actually care where she was going. And she was headed in the opposite direction to where Liz had parked.

  “Hey, Mia, wait up!” The tall boy jogged past Liz. Liz quickened her pace. By the time the boy reached Mia, she’d slowed a bit.

  “Leave me alone, Chris,” Liz heard her say.

  “Look, don’t worry about Summer and those girls. They’re idiots.”

  Liz nodded in silent affirmation. Whoever this Chris was, he was no dummy. Maybe.

  “Whatever.” Mia stopped, swung a look over her shoulder at Liz. “Where the heck is your car anyway?”

  “Other way.” Liz stood beside them and looked the boy up and down. Good looking kid. White Vineyard Vines button-down over jeans, and deck shoes. Yacht club. Money. Probably here because he got expelled from some elite prep school on the mainland. She stuck out a hand. “Elizabeth Carlisle.”

  “Christopher Cooper.” He shook her hand with confidence and a smile that seemed familiar.

  “Which Coopers?”

  “Anthony Cooper is my uncle. He’s, um . . . sick. My parents are here for . . . well, a while, I guess. To help.” He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable discussing family business with strangers.

  “Ah.” She nodded. “Well, we would normally be neighbors if Wyldewood wasn’t under construction. My sister Lynette is dating your cousin, Nick. Well, I think they’re still together. She’s traveling at the moment.” She really needed to make more of an effort to get in touch with Lynnie.

  “Oh, they’re still together.” Chris rolled his eyes and snorted. “He never shuts up about her. Holy cow. When is she coming home? Better be soon or he’s gonna throw himself off a cliff.”

  Liz laughed at the teen’s exaggeration. “I certainly hope it won’t come to that.” She swiveled and took a gander up the street. The girls were nowhere in sight. She wasn’t altogether sure whether Mia wanted to talk to Chris Cooper or not, so she decided not to put her in that position. She caught Mia’s eye. “We’ll just head back this way, shall we? I’m parked near Mitchell’s.”

  “Okay.” Mia side-stepped her, staring at the ground as she walked.

  Chris shoved his book bag over one shoulder and matched Mia’s stride. “So, um, were we going to talk about that social studies assignment?”

  Liz held back a bit.

  “Whatever.”r />
  “Well, since we only have a week, I thought . . .”

  “Can you just text me later? I’ll check my schedule. Maybe we can work on it tomorrow, at school.”

  “Sure.” The wind picked up and blew through his blond hair. Liz wondered what Mia was thinking. He pulled out an iPhone and slowed down. “Can you give me your number?”

  Liz stopped at her car as Mia rattled off her number. “We’re right here. It was nice to meet you, Chris. Say hello to Nick for me?”

  He gave her a genuine, friendly smile. “I will. Nice meeting you too, Miss Carlisle.” He pocketed his phone and looked at Mia. “Talk to you later, okay?”

  “Mm-yup.” Mia scrambled to get into the car without a backward glance. Chris grinned, gave his head a half shake, and walked away.

  Liz let out her breath, dumped her bag in the back, and got in. She started the engine and turned to Mia. “Nick Cooper’s cousin. Small world. He seems nice.”

  “He’s a rich highbrow. I know the type.”

  Liz fiddled with the a/c and debated her response. “Just because his parents might be wealthy doesn’t mean—”

  “Whatever.” Mia pulled earbuds from her backpack and plugged them into her phone. “That’s your sister? Lynette Carlisle? She did the paintings in the gallery?”

  “That’s right.”

  A hint of awe shimmered in the girl’s dark eyes. “Sweet.”

  “She’s not on island right now. But maybe you can meet her when she gets home.” Really? Now she was inviting the kid to meet her family? She’d definitely been out of New York too long.

  “That’s okay.” Mia lowered her head and pressed some buttons on her phone.

  “You know, Mia—”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  Liz nodded. “Okay. No talking then.” She pulled out of the parking space and turned up the radio. What was the point in trying to be nice? This was exactly why she was never having kids. Ever.

  Mia snapped her head up a short while later, when Liz pulled up outside Wyldewood. “Whoa. You grew up here?”