by Kay Correll
“Nice try. Who would nag you to slow down and rest your hand? Besides, I haven’t finished sorting out your books yet. They’re a mess.” He set down another stack of invoices.
“I know.” His sister finally put down the shell and wire she was working with. “And I know you mean well with the ever constant, overboard, annoying nagging.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” Will grinned at his sister.
“I’m not used to asking for help or feeling so… dependent.”
“You’re getting better. Ashley said you’d be able to use your hand sparingly this weekend at the festival.” The festival he’d agreed to go to and take his father. A long sigh escaped him.
“Will, can we talk?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“No, I mean seriously talk.”
Will looked at his sister and recognized the expression. She had that I’m-going-to-get-my-way look on her face. “We can talk, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with whatever it is you’re going to say.”
Whitney pushed back her hair—with her good hand—and nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you enough for all you did for me when we were growing up. You gave up so much so that I could have a normal life. I lived in fear that some scary social-services lady was going to swoop down and take me away from you. But you always made sure things ran smoothly and no one knew how bad Dad really was.”
“I’d do the same thing again for you, Whit. You know that.”
“Well, I want to do something for you now, to pay you back.”
“You don’t owe me anything. It was just the life we were handed.”
“No, listen to me, Willie. Really listen.” The intent look on her face made him sit quietly and let her have her say.
“I made a lot of money off Coastal Creations.”
“I know, and I’m proud of you.”
Whitney sent him a let-me-finish glare. “I want you to take some of the money. It’s the least I can do. I wouldn’t be where I am now if you hadn’t given up so much for me.”
“Whit, I don’t need your money.”
“But I want to make your life easier. I have my shop, my beach house, I have everything I need.”
“I have everything I need, too.”
“But I know you work long hours bartending at the Lucky Duck.”
“I love bartending there, or I wouldn’t do it.”
“But it would make me feel better if I could finally do something for you. Look at you. You’ve taken two weeks off work, so you’re not earning a thing, and you’ve come here to help me out.”
Will got up and walked over to his sister. “Whit, seriously, I don’t need your money. I’m doing fine.” He paused and looked at his sister for a long moment. “I… I actually bought The Lucky Duck last year.”
“You what?” Whitney’s eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I’m telling you now.” Will hadn’t told anyone he’d bought the tavern. He wasn’t sure many people on Belle Island even knew he owned it. He was just their trusty bartender, and he liked it that way. Maybe it was because it surprised him that he could afford to buy the place and was afraid it would be taken away from him.
“How did you do that? I mean, save up enough to do that?”
“Well, you know how I’ve always been good with numbers?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked you to help me with the books.” Whitney stared at him intently.
“Well, it turns out I’m also pretty good with investments.”
“How good?”
“Really good.”
Whitney tossed him a wide grin. “Well, that’s great news.”
“I was just getting ready to offer to help you out with starting up your jewelry business when that whole social media thing went viral and your business took off. So I took the money I’d set aside to help you and invested in part ownership of the Lucky Duck. Then last year I bought out the other owner, and it’s all mine.”
“You never cease to surprise me.” Whitney set down a shell she’d been fiddling with. “I’m really proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too.”
“We’ve really come a long way from the dingy old apartment and our old lives, haven’t we?”
“With no help from Dad.” Will was sorry the minute the words slipped out of his mouth.
“Don’t be like that. He did the best he could. He’s changed now.”
“So you say.”
“Are you ever going to forgive him?”
“I honestly don’t know, Whit.”
“I know you gave up more than I had to. I know you resent that, and I don’t blame you. You had to be an adult at age fifteen, and you were basically supporting us by the time you were eighteen. Well, even before that when Mom was so sick.” Whitney looked at him with a sad expression clouding her face. “I miss Mom. Even after all this time. I still want her here. Talking to me. Letting me help her in the kitchen. Do you still miss her?”
“Every single day, Whit. Every single day.”
His sister sat in silence for a moment then looked directly into his eyes. “But I still hope you can work something out with Dad. Find a way to… Well, I miss having a family.”
That comment stung. He’d always considered him and Whit a family, just the two of them.
Will looked at his sister suspiciously. “So, did you decide you needed this help with your books right now, because you knew Warren would be at your cottage and you wanted us to spend time together?”
Whitney blushed. “Well, I do need help getting all the accounting mess sorted out. I have that audit coming up.”
Will let out a long whoosh of air. “Whitney Layton, you are the most frustrating sister I’ve ever had.”
“And your favorite.” Whitney grinned.
“That, too.”
Chapter 7
The day of the festival graced the town with perfect weather, sunny and warm, but not too hot. Early that morning Willie helped Whitney set up a booth. The table was covered in a crisp white linen cloth, and Whitney carefully arranged a display of her jewelry. She stood back and admired her handiwork.
“I think that’s it.” She set a box under the table then turned to Will. “Can you go back and get Dad now?”
Will couldn’t think of any other way to stall. He might as well go get Warren and bring him to the festival. Why had he agreed to do that?
“You could poke your head in at Ashley’s and see if she wants a ride, too.”
“She said she’d meet you here.”
“It would be the neighborly thing to do.”
“Whitney, how about you concentrate on selling your jewelry—the display looks really nice by the way—and I’ll worry about what I’m going to do or not do.” He turned and stalked away, threading his way through the gathering crowds of people. He wasn’t really angry with Whitney, even though she did have a way of bossing him around, and he usually did as she wished. She had a big heart and always thought the best of everyone, unlike the cynical person he’d become.
He slowed and strolled through the park situated at the far end of Indigo Bay. The air was filled with the tantalizing hints of fried food and a lingering aroma of baked goods. A large tent had been set up with a sign proclaiming the biggest baking contest in all of South Carolina.
Booths were filled with craft items, antiques, every kind of food imaginable, from jams and jellies to pies to cookies. He considered stopping and buying a sweet roll and a cup of coffee. He deserved a break before heading back to get Warren. But guilt overcame him, and he headed to Whitney’s car to go back to the cottage.
Warren was waiting on the front deck. “I guess I’m a bit more excited to get out and about than I thought. I appreciate you hauling me over to the festival.”
“It’s not a problem.” It was a problem, but he was doing it anyway.
Will turned the wheelchair around and slowly lowered Warren down the two steps of the deck. He pus
hed the chair up to the car and looked at Warren. His father started to push off the arms of the chair and stand, and the wheelchair began to roll backward.
Will instinctively reached out to steady Warren. The man’s hands grasped at Will’s forearms and Will held him securely. The shock of the actual touch of his father… after so many, many years brought Will to a standstill. He couldn’t remember the last physical contact he’d had with his father, a hug, a handshake, or even a pat on the shoulder for a job well done? Nothing came to mind. Nothing at all.
His father looked him right in the eyes. “Thanks, s—Will.”
Will nodded, because there was no way he could form any semblance of coherent speech at the moment. He leveraged his father into the front passenger seat and slowly walked around to the back of the vehicle. He collapsed the wheelchair and wrestled it into the trunk. He slammed the trunk a little too forcefully and jerked open the driver’s door. He slid into the seat and started the car, still not saying a word.
When they got to the festival, Will helped Warren out of the car and settled him back in the wheelchair. Once again Warren’s hands grasped at him as he clumsily transferred the man from the car to the wheelchair. Will let out a grunt when Warren was settled. He’d had no idea transferring someone to and from a wheelchair took so much work.
He pushed the chair over to the wooden walkway and crossed over to the gazebo. “You going to be okay here?”
Warren nodded.
“You want to stay in the wheelchair? Or I could help you into one of those Adirondack chairs.”
“If you don’t mind helping me, I’d love to get out of this thing and sit in one of those chairs. They look comfortable, and I’m getting sick and tired of being tied to this contraption.”
Will locked the wheels on the wheelchair—he was at least learning a bit about the mechanics of transferring Warren from place to place—and helped his father stand. Warren leaned heavily on Will as he led him to his seat. “You all good?”
“I’m good.”
“Hi.” Will turned at the sound of Ashley’s voice. A voice that he thought he’d forgotten, but these last few days brought back the knowledge of every little timbre and lilt of each word she spoke.
She wore a simple print sundress and sandals. Her auburn hair drifted around her shoulders. She looked just… beautiful.
Not that he noticed.
She smiled at Warren. “Glad to see you made it. It will do you good to get out.”
“It is nice. I feel like I’ve been stuck inside for weeks.”
“You have been. It’s been a long recovery.” Ashley rested her hand on Warren’s shoulder. “Are you comfortable here?”
“Yes, I’m good.” Warren smiled at Ashley. “I don’t need fussing over. Why don’t you two go walk around the festival, get something to eat, have fun?”
“I… Will, do you want to wander around a bit?” Ashley looked at him with a you-don’t-have-to-say-yes expression.
“Ashley, there you are.” A woman who looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place, walked up with a young girl in tow.
Who was she? Someone from their school days. Her name was on the tip of his tongue.
“Hello, Vicki.” Ashley gave him the hint he needed.
Vicki Holloway. How could he have forgotten her? She’d been a constant source of friction when they were in school.
“I told you no one calls me Vicki anymore. It’s Victoria.” The woman tossed her blonde hair behind her shoulder.
“You remember Will, don’t you? He went to school with us.” Ashley tilted her head towards him.
Vicki stared at him, with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “I… yes. I think so.” Then she promptly turned away from him and squared off with Ashley. There just wasn’t another term he could think of to describe how the woman faced Ashley.
“Mia here isn’t feeling very well. Are you sure you didn’t miss something when I brought her in to see you?”
“I think she had the virus that was going around, but we could go to the clinic again now if you want me to check her out again. Is she running a fever?”
“No, she’s just not her usual self. And I don’t have time to go to the clinic. I’m in charge of the baking contest and I need to get over to the tent.”
Ashley turned to Mia. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just tired.” The girl looked down at her feet as she answered.
“I bet you are. It takes a while to get over being sick.”
Warren smiled at the girl. “You know what? I have to just sit here. I’m not up to walking around. You want to stay with me while your mother goes and works at the baking contest? I bet Will and Ashley could bring you back a snow cone.”
Ashley knelt down at Mia’s level. “How about that? You want to stay here in the shade where it’s cooler? You want to stay with us?”
The girl nodded then looked down again.
Vicki looked at them all skeptically. “I suppose that would be okay.” She nodded towards Warren. “I know Mr. Layton here from church.”
Will felt his mouth gape open. She knew Warren from church? Since when?
Vicki ignored Will’s astonishment. “They really need me at the baking contest.” Her look of skepticism quickly changed to one of relief. “Yes, that would be fine.”
Vicki hadn’t changed much. Still thinking of herself. Will was surprised she’d just leave her daughter with them, though Ashley was a doctor, so who better to leave a sick kid with? Oh, and with a man she knew from her church. Will shook his head.
“I’ll be back after the contest is over. It may be a while.”
“That’s fine. We’ll keep an eye on Mia.” Ashley put her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
Vicki spun on her heels—who wore heels to a festival like this?—and left without so much as a kiss or hug for her daughter.
“So, would you like a snow cone?” Ashley knelt in front of Mia.
“Yes, please.” Mia nodded.
“How about we play some cards? You want to play Go Fish while Ashely and Will find you a snow cone?” Warren looked at Mia.
“You want to play with me?” The little girl’s eyes widen.
“Yep. Sure do. I love playing Go Fish. It’s my favorite card game.” Warren winked at the girl and she grinned.
Mia sat in the chair next to Warren and Will pulled a low table over between them.
“Can you reach into the pocket on the back of my wheelchair? I always keep a book and a deck of cards in there.”
Will walked over to the wheelchair, retrieved the deck of cards, and handed them to Warren. “Here you go.”
Warren slipped off the rubber band encircling the deck and held out the cards to Mia. “You want to deal them?”
“Me?”
“Yep. Seven cards to each of us.”
Mia reached eagerly for the cards. She concentrated while she dealt. “One for you. One for me. One for you. One for me.”
Ashley smiled as she watched Mia deal the cards.
Warren looked up and grinned. “I think we’re all set here. Why don’t you two walk around a bit, then bring a snow cone back for my card partner?”
“Okay, we won’t be long.” Ashley watched Mia carefully try to sort her cards into some kind of order in her small hands. “You all good, Mia?”
Mia nodded then bent back to concentrate on her cards.
Ashley and Will crossed the gazebo and out onto the sandy beach. She raised her face to the warm sunshine and let it bathe over her. She loved this time of year before the summer crowds, though the festival certainly had attracted its share of tourists today.
“You were really good with Mia.” Will turned to face her.
“She seems like a sweet kid.”
“She seems like a kid whose mother doesn’t have much time for her.”
“You’re probably right. But then, Vicki’s always been like that, hasn’t she? It’s always all about Vicki. Mia sure perked up when your fathe
r asked if she wanted to play cards.”
“That kind of surprised me.” Will’s face scrunched into a scowl.
“That Mia wanted to play cards?”
“No, that Warren had the cards and offered to play with her. I just… well, it’s not like he ever played cards with me that I can remember.”
“He was gone a lot on business, wasn’t he?” Ashley didn’t know why Will was so angry with Warren. His father had travelled frequently and didn’t seem to be around much when they were growing up, but he’d probably done the best he could as a single father. Will hadn’t talked about him much when they were younger.
“He was gone quite a bit.” Will’s voice was flat.
Ashley decided to change the subject. “So, which way do you want to go?” Ashley looked at the rows of art, crafts, food, and a big area that was like a flea market filled with who knew what.
“You choose.”
“This way, then.” Ashley headed down a row of arts and crafts stopping at a few booths here and there. Will trailed along with her, fairly uninterested until they reached a booth filled with every tool imaginable. She laughed as she followed him along the narrow pathways of the large tent. “I don’t even know what some of these tools are.”
“You don’t have a multi-use knife? Look, it even has a corkscrew.” Will held up what looked like a massive pocket knife. “Or, here, a solar-powered charger for your phone, complete with a suction cup so you can put it on your window when you fly in a plane. You probably need this. Great for long trips.” Will grinned.
“No doubt it is.” She laughed.
They walked on and an easiness fell between them. He brushed against her in the crowds and once he took her arm to get her attention to point out something. Their mood grew playful and she relaxed more than she had in weeks. He teased her. She teased him back. Their hands brushed, and for a quick second she thought he was going to take her hand in his.
And that would have been fine with her.
They continued down the rows of tents and booths until she came to one filled with watercolor paintings. “Look, it’s the beach at sunrise.” She pointed to a beautiful painting with shades of pinks flowing above the splashing waves on the beach.