The Truest Thing: Hart's Boardwalk #4

by Samantha Young

  “Oh, you of all people know there is an attitude buried under the blushing,” I huffed. “I think the pregnancy is just making me care less.” That wasn’t entirely true. I still cared. I was anxious about becoming gossip fodder for the Hartwell masses.

  “Five years, Emery?” Iris insisted.

  “On and off.” I shrugged. “Mostly off. I’d decided it was definitely off last summer and then everything happened with his father and I realized Jack’s reasons for staying away from me were legitimate and then we slept together and he left me to go deal with his family, which is fine but not right after you sleep with someone!” My rambling anger echoed around my house. It surprised me.

  “Em?”

  I shook myself out of my hurt. Or I tried to. “He’s not right for me is the conclusion.”

  “Does he want to be right for you?”

  An ache, deep and hot and painful, seared my chest. “He … wanted us to be a family for the baby, but I said no. And he was fine with that.”

  Completely fine.

  Bastard.

  I knew it was contrary of me, but I was mad at him for not even putting up a fight. It proved I was right about him. Jack Devlin was not the one. The one would fight. He would fight for me.

  “Emery?”

  My pain must’ve shown in my eyes because Iris frowned with concern. “We’ll all take care of you. And one day, you’ll find someone. The right someone.”

  “Oh yes.” I waved away the thought because I couldn’t even think of romance right now. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Iris. While Jack and I aren’t going to pursue a relationship, he is very insistent on being a part of our baby’s life and the entire pregnancy.”

  Iris harrumphed. “Well, we’re still here if you need us.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Now, outside of Jack, how are you feeling about becoming a mom?”

  Iris chatted for over an hour, taking me up on that offer for tea. When she got up to leave, I clasped her hand in mine before she could open the door.

  “I know you’re not much for sentimentality, Iris,” I teased. “But I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for giving me a safe place to turn to the moment I got here. I think of you as family. I hope you know that.”

  Iris squeezed my hand right back. “The feeling is mutual, my girl.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Now, you call if you need me. I’ll be mad if you don’t.” She pointed to my belly. “That kid in there is gonna call me Nana Iris so I’ve got rights.”

  I laughed, some of my melancholy easing, as I waved her out the door.

  Nana Iris. I touched my still-flat stomach. That had a nice ring to it.

  It wasn’t too much long after Iris left that I got a call from Jess, followed by one from Dahlia. They wanted to come to the house but I told them both I was exhausted. The truth was, I just … I just wanted to wallow for a while.

  Wallow in the utter disappointment that was Jack Devlin.

  While I was wallowing, I began internet researching. I sent for a bunch of books on pregnancy. Maybe it was too soon, but I liked to feel prepared and since it was apparently impossible to feel prepared for parenthood, I had to do something.

  In the middle of a freak-out about the impossibility of preparedness (because who knew there was a situation outside of death in which you could not prepare yourself!), I got a text from Ivy.

  Had a drunken one-night stand with the sheriff. Thought it might take your mind off Bailey outing that you’re having a baby with the town lothario. On that note, how are you feeling?

  I spit out my tea on a surprised bark of shocked laughter.

  I hit the call button.

  Ivy answered after two rings. “You okay?”

  I smiled. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Oh, Em, would it be self-absorbed to ask God why I keep making stupid decisions?”

  “She asks the pregnant girl,” I joked.

  Ivy chuckled. “Was Jack Devlin a stupid decision?”

  “Five years’ worth.”

  “Ouch. Okay, there is a bigger story here obviously.”

  “Yes, there is, but you texted me to get my mind off my problems. Was Jeff a stupid decision?”

  “Can you keep a secret? I mean, Bailey already knows but … can you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Jeff moved to Hartwell when I was sixteen. He was twenty-two, a deputy at the time, and he moved here because he fell in love with Kelly Aikman. She was beautiful and sweet and I envied the hell out of her the moment I caught sight of Jeff.” Ivy laughed. “I spent my last two years in Hartwell mooning over a married man who didn’t even know I was alive. Then I left, and crushes fade, you know … but Bailey would keep me informed. That he got elected sheriff. That Kelly died. Fuck, that broke my heart. I envied her for so long, and then … she had so little time. And she was the sweetest woman. Oh gosh, I hurt for him, you know. Losing her so soon. And you would have thought it would wake me up.” She seemed to be talking to herself now. “But, no, I kept on going, making stupid mistake after stupid mistake, as if we’re granted a never-ending supply of chances. Which we’re not.

  “I’d just started dating Oliver when Bailey told me Jeff and Dahlia were a thing. I was jealous. Isn’t that ridiculous? I didn’t even really know Jeff. He was just a crush. I guess … I guess I was jealous of more than that. Dahlia was Bailey’s new best friend. She was dating Jeff. She … she was living a life maybe I’d missed out on … that was all my fault, I guess.”

  “Ivy …” I said her name just to remind her I was there.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Jeff and I talked for real for the first time when that whole thing with Freddie Jackson went down. And then last night, he was very attentive.”

  “Of course, he was.” I smiled to myself. “Ivy, you’re …”

  “I’m what?”

  “Well, you’re not only the most stunning woman I’ve ever met in real life, you’re … you’re not the easiest person to get a lock on.” My own honesty surprised me. Words were just blurting out of me these days.

  “In what way?”

  “This is the most you’ve ever told me about yourself.”

  She chuckled. “Emery, I know nothing about you except that you’re pregnant with Jack Devlin’s baby, so pot, meet kettle.”

  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just mean that I could see how a man like Jeff would be intrigued to know more. You don’t give everything away up front.”

  “Well, I gave some things away last night.”

  I laughed. “Were you very drunk?”

  “Nah. I knew what I was doing, which is even worse. But when your teen crush gives you sexy eyes, it’s hard to say to no to that. Even when you should.”

  “Why would you say no? Jeff King is a wonderful man, Ivy. You could do a lot worse.”

  “First, he just wanted sex. When men are really into you, they don’t do one-night stands.”

  I flinched, thinking about Jack.

  “And second, I don’t know if I’m staying in Hartwell. Oh wait, someone is knocking at my door. It’s probably Mom here to give me the third degree—oh shit!”

  Hearing the shock in her voice, I asked, “Ivy, are you okay?”

  “Uh … Jeff is here. And he … Okay, he looks mad.”

  I grinned. “Did you, by any chance, run away while he was sleeping?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I winced. Jack had left me sleeping seven or so weeks ago.

  “Maybe. Why is he here? Oh shit, he saw me. I have to open the door.”

  “Good luck!”

  “You don’t have to sound so cheerful,” she huffed. “I’ll call you later.”

  The line went dead.

  Ivy had done what she’d hoped to do. She successfully distracted me from my own problems.

  My phone beeped.

  Bailey this time.

  Are you okay?

  I texted back that I was fine.

  At the airport.
When I get home, we’ll talk. Just know we’re here for you. Me and Vaughn.

  I thought of Vaughn punching Jack at his own wedding in my defense. As much as I hated seeing Jack hurt, it was nice that Vaughn felt a brotherly protectiveness toward me.

  Thank you. Don’t worry about me. Enjoy your honeymoon! We’ll talk when you’re home.

  The extraordinary weight of worries on my shoulders lightened a little as I moved out onto the porch to sit on my swing. The beach was busy with families and couples enjoying the summer morning. The waves lapped gently at shore. The gulls cried above.

  I eased back on the porch swing and took a deep breath.

  No matter what happened, I had a family here now. I had people who cared.

  And I was no longer afraid to let them care and to care about them in return.

  I trusted them.

  Even if I couldn’t trust Jack, I found comfort and joy because Hartwell really was a place I could call home.

  Driving to Millton the next morning, I spoke to my car. “Call Ivy.”

  After four rings, she picked up, sounding a little groggy. “Hullo.”

  “Did I wake you?” That surprised me. It wasn’t too early in the morning. I closed the store every second Monday morning to volunteer at a therapy center, Balance, in Millton, but the children’s group didn’t come together until ten o’clock.

  “Uh, yeah. Give me a second.”

  I could hear a shuffling around. A second turned out to be a few minutes.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Ivy came back on the line. “I had to switch on my coffee machine. Useless without it.”

  “No problem. Are you okay?”

  “Oh God, Em, I suck.” She groaned, sounding exhausted.

  “What happened?”

  “Jeff spent the entire day here yesterday. He was pissed at me—coffee’s ready, one second.”

  “Is this a writer thing … building my anticipation?”

  I heard her chuckle down the line followed a few seconds later by the slurp of her drinking.

  “That’s better. Okay. He was pissed at me for running out on him. Apparently, what I thought was a one-night stand was not a one-night stand. I tried to tell him it needed to be a one-nighter, but he kind of ignored me. It was bizarre. The next thing I know, he’s making lunch and we’re sitting out on the porch, chatting. Then lunch turned into me making dinner. We talked. All day. And then we … oh my God, Emery.” She groaned. “God, we had sex all night. Like … the best sex of my life.”

  I smirked. “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “I … I just … I don’t have a great track record with men. I just—I’m not ready for anything serious and it is now clear to me that Jeff is that guy. You know, Mr. Monogamy Guy. He pretty much said that outright.”

  “Well, evidence suggests he’s telling the truth.” It was true. I’d never seen the sheriff serial date. At all. Dahlia was the second woman he dated after his wife died. They dated awhile, and he was definitely more into her than she was into him. Since Dahlia, he’d attempted a few relationships, but they never lasted. Having talked to Dahlia about her relationship with Jeff, however, I knew it had started pretty normally. She said she knew he was serious because they went on seven dates before they had sex.

  I remembered the look on Jeff’s face when he saw Ivy at the wedding.

  It was an intense look.

  “I shouldn’t have slept with him again. Multiple times.” She sighed. “He woke up early to leave for work and whispered in my ear that … that what happened between us meant the world to him and this was just the beginning for us. Who says that?”

  A romantic.

  “He doesn’t even know me, Emery. If he knew the truth, God, he’d run away and never come back. He has no idea that he is way too good for me.”

  My breath caught. “Ivy, don’t say that. It’s not true.”

  “It is, Em.” She sounded defeated. “I let a rotten guy do awful things to me for a long time.” Her breath hitched. “Anyway, I gotta get ready for my day of avoiding the sheriff. You okay?”

  “I’m fine—”

  “Okay, good. Bye.”

  My heart raced. This was the closest I think anyone might have gotten to Ivy opening up about her dead fiancé. Shit. “Call Balance.”

  Ahmad, the young receptionist, answered.

  “Hey, it’s Emery. I am so sorry, but I can’t make it this morning. I’m sorry for the last-minute call, but something just came up. Are the other volunteers on their way?”

  “They’re already here. It’s good. The kids will miss you, though.”

  Guilt suffused me. I’d never missed a group. But my friend needed me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not at all. I hope everything’s okay.”

  I hoped so too.

  Deciding to grab some bagels to take to Ivy’s, I stopped in at Lanson’s on my way to her place. I was in the bread aisle, deciding over which type of bagel Ivy might like. I opted for a few kinds and as I was just about to move on to fillings, I heard my name.

  I stopped in the middle of the aisle and stared to my left. Whoever it was, was in the aisle next to mine.

  “He should be shot for touching that girl.”

  “She’s not a girl, Ellen. She’s a grown woman. And she had to know Jack’s reputation before she jumped into bed with him.”

  Nausea rolled over me. It was starting.

  The gossip.

  “Do you think she did it to trap him?”

  “Absolutely.” A new voice joined in. One I recognized.

  “Oh, Dana, I didn’t see you there. You heard, then?” I was pretty sure that voice belonged to Ellen Luther.

  The third voice, the one I didn’t recognize, said, “It’s unbelievable. It’s always the quiet ones.”

  My cheeks were on fire.

  “She’s always been a manipulative, pretentious little bitch,” Dana said acidly. “No one else could see it. But I did. And she’s had her eye on Jack for ages.”

  The audacity of it. Dana Kellerman. Cheater. Mistress. Manipulator. Gossiping about me?

  “So, you think she’s trying to trap him?” the unknown voice repeated.

  “Absolutely. But I know Jack. He won’t fall for it. They’ll raise that child separately.”

  We would. And people would think it was because he didn’t want me. Not the other way around. Small, narrow little minds.

  “I don’t know. I think you might have it the wrong way around. Word is that Emery Saunders comes from a lot of money. He’s a Devlin. Maybe he deliberately used her naivety against her and got her pregnant to get his hands on her money,” Ellen said.

  I grimaced, aghast.

  Why did it never occur to people that maybe two people slept together because they had feelings for one another?

  Why was there always a dark, hidden agenda?

  Why did everyone always assume the worst of everyone else?

  “Jack wouldn’t land himself with a prissy virgin for money. He likes sex too much,” Dana gloated. “Emery Saunders can’t give a man like Jack what he needs.”

  “Well, you would know,” Ellen retorted slyly.

  Dana huffed. “I’m just saying. She’d bore him to tears.”

  Done listening to them, I strode up the aisle and around the corner as they continued to shred Jack and me to pieces.

  Ellen Luther, Dana Kellerman, and Sadie Thomas stood huddled in the magazine aisle. Ellen noticed me first and blanched with shame. Sadie prattled on about “the poor kid born from this scandalous mess” and Ellen nudged her to shut her up.

  “What?” Sadie looked at her and then finally caught sight of me.

  Dana sneered, enjoying that I’d overheard.

  Dana, the cheater.

  Sadie Thomas, who slept around. A lot. Not that I judged. But I judged her judging me when she was used to people talking about her and knew it wasn’t nice or fun.

  And Ellen Luther, whom I’d always thought better of.

  But p
eople liked their gossip.

  I stared at every single one of them with a disdainful disappointment I’d learned from my grandmother until even Dana squirmed.

  Without a word, I turned on my heel, dumped my basket at the door, and left Lanson’s.

  By the time I got to Ivy’s, I was worried I needed her support as much as she needed mine.

  “Em?” Ivy opened the door, looking a lot brighter than I’d expected considering her mournful tone on the phone. “Are you okay?”

  “That’s what I came to ask you.”

  Ivy scrutinized me for a second and stepped aside to gesture me into her home. “What happened?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her. To let it all burst out. But I was afraid if I did, I would cry, and those awful women didn’t deserve my tears. Instead, I focused on the original purpose of my visit. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Em—”

  “What did you mean? About Jeff not deserving you … about a rotten man, doing awful things?”

  She exhaled shakily. “Shit.”

  “Ivy?”

  “Coffee?”

  “Ivy—”

  “I’m not deflecting. I just need more coffee.”

  “I’ll have water.” I made a sad face and pointed to my stomach. “I’m only allowed so much caffeine now.”

  She gave me a commiserating smile. “Right.”

  Not too long later, we settled on her porch, overlooking the lake, coffee and water in hand, eating leftover pastries that Jeff had brought over the day before.

  I waited patiently for her to speak first.

  Finally, while I was halfway through a cinnamon bun, she spoke. “I haven’t told anyone this. I wasn’t even sure I could.”

  I noted her coffee mug tremble and felt a lurch of aching empathy in my chest. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

  “When I got off the phone with you, I realized I’d said to you out loud what I’ve been telling myself for years. And I’ve been telling myself those things because it’s the things he used to tell me. And yet, I know deep down I don’t believe them.” Something like loathing filled her eyes before she glanced away. “‘You’re worthless, Ivy. What would you be without me? No one would care about you. I made you. I can unmake you. You don’t deserve me. I could have anyone.’” Her words gathered more anger as she spewed out what I suspected was the abuse she’d received from Oliver. “‘Don’t even think of fucking leaving me. No one leaves me. I’ll fucking kill you before you leave me.’”