No Secret Like Nantucket (A Sweet Island Inn Book 5)

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No Secret Like Nantucket (A Sweet Island Inn Book 5) Page 25

by Grace Palmer


  “I spent my one day off checking all of the fire alarms at Little Bull.” His jaw was set, and he stared at her, waiting to see if she could top him. “And I always listen to your work problems. I know all of your employees by name. I could probably make the salsa myself.”

  Sara barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, right. You haven’t been listening to me for a week.”

  “One week.” He rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I focused on myself and my dreams for one week! What drama did I miss? A lettuce shortage?”

  “Don’t do that,” she warned. “Don’t minimize. There was a robbery. An actual crime. It had nothing to do with lettuce.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “No! If you’d been listening, you’d know it’s one of the waitstaff stealing from me. I don’t know who and I don’t have proof. But you couldn’t stop talking about your movie.”

  Joey’s eyes widened in surprise, but he was nowhere close to conceding this argument. That was another thing the two of them had in common: neither wanted to be the first to admit they were wrong.

  “I keep talking about the movie because you keep ignoring me. You’re treating it like a joke, but it’s serious to me.” His eyes looked even bluer when he was angry.

  “It’s all you wanted to talk about, Joey! I had other things on my mind. I got bored. Sue me.”

  “Sorry my dreams aren’t interesting enough for you. Not all of us can be ‘renowned restauranteurs.’” He said the final word with a fancy flourish of his fingers, his face pulled into a mocking posh expression.

  Sara groaned. “Oh my God, enough with Gavin. That was eons ago. And he is the worst! What is your deal with him?”

  “I don’t have a deal with him.”

  Somehow, Sara’s ex-boss and longtime crush turned nemesis had become a sticking point in Joey’s mind. Ever since Joey looked up a picture of him online after Sara ranted about how Gavin was a scourge on the earth, he had been weird about it. Every so often, he’d throw Gavin in Sara’s face as if she was still into him.

  To Sara, it seemed like Joey might be the one who was into him. There was no other explanation for the hang-up.

  “I’m sure you didn’t get bored talking food with him,” Joey mumbled, arms crossed over his chest. “I bet he could hold your attention.”

  Sara wanted to scream. This was ridiculous. “Gavin tried to cheat on his girlfriend with me and then called in a favor to get a food critic to write a terrible review of my restaurant. I mean, it wasn’t boring, I guess. But it wasn’t exactly a good time.”

  She scooted to the edge of the sofa and dropped her head in her hands, speaking through her fingers.

  “What does any of this have to do with right now?” she said. “We’re off-track.”

  “This movie could have been my shot to do something more with my life.”

  “More than save lives and fight fires?” she yelped.

  “To be more than the youngest firefighter on a small island! To actually accomplish something. Make a name for myself. And you never even cared.”

  Joey was only a rookie when Sara had met him, but he’d stopped complaining about the other guys teasing him a long time ago. He’d been the lowest man on the totem pole for a while, but as far as Sara was aware, that wasn’t a big deal.

  Maybe she didn’t quite have the full lay of the land after all.

  “I thought being a firefighter was what you wanted! Sorry I didn’t catch on that being a movie star was your lifelong dream.”

  “Stop doing that!” He shouted, teeth gritted. “Stop acting like my dreams don’t mean as much as yours.”

  “This wasn’t your dream,” Sara said, pursing her lips. The frustration and annoyance she’d been feeling for the last week was bubbling just under the surface. “Firefighter #4 in a made-for-TV movie was not your dream.”

  “It could have been the start of one.” He spun away from the couch, pacing across the chevron rug in the middle of the room.

  “Were you planning to take off for L.A. to pursue acting?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Who knows?”

  “I can’t exactly pick up Little Bull and bring it with me,” Sara said. “Sorry I assumed you’d want to stay here with me.”

  Joey spun and pointed at Sara. “That. That’s what I’m talking about. Everything is about you.”

  “Everything is about me?”

  “I’m always helping you out. Going out of my way to support you and help your business.”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Sorry you had to check my fire alarms one time, Joey. Next time I’ll call the station and have someone else sent over if it’s such a big deal.”

  “I don’t mind doing it.” He fisted his hands at his sides, his jaw tight. “I don’t mind. I just… You could return the favor occasionally. I’ve been helping you for a year, but you couldn’t be supportive for a week.”

  Sara didn’t want his words to land, but they did.

  Joey had a point. As much as she hated to admit it.

  “Little Bull is my career,” she countered anyway, not ready to concede. “But you don’t see me talking your ear off about my indoor herb garden.”

  “Oh, nice. Compare me being in a movie to your single pot of dead basil. Real nice, Sara.”

  She winced. He was right about that, too. It was a low blow.

  She was doing the thing her family always accused her of. The thing her dad had always warned her about. Speaking without thinking. Leading with her emotions.

  She needed to take a deep breath. She needed a few seconds to think.

  “I don’t even know why I came here.” Joey spun towards the door. “I knew you didn’t care, but I thought you’d at least pretend.”

  Sara was still on the inhale part of her deep breath, her lungs filled with air. She had to force it all out fast to call after Joey before he could leave. “I do care. I said I was sorry!”

  Joey turned around, his hand wrapped around the door, his turquoise blue eyes pinning her to the spot. “No, Sara. You didn’t.”

  Then he was gone.

  24

  Holly

  Later That Evening—Sara’s Apartment

  It was Monday, so Holly knew Sara would be at home.

  Getting her little sister off the couch and out of the house on her day off was like getting Alice to eat her spinach or Grady to wash behind his ears.

  In other words, impossible.

  She knocked twice. Her knuckles were still touching the wood on the second knock when the door wrenched open.

  Sara’s hair was pulled up in the messiest of all messy buns. Large chunks of hair had fallen out and were hanging around her face. And she had on her decades-old Christmas flannel pajama pants, the ones with little elves printed all over them.

  Her eyes were wide, expectant. And when she saw Holly, her body sagged—but whether with relief or disappointment, Holly couldn’t tell.

  “Hey, Holls.” Sara shuffled back to the couch and flopped down in the middle of what looked like a hoarder’s nest. There were fleece blankets, empty fruit snack packets, and three different half-filled cups of soda and juice.

  “What on Earth happened here?” Holly shut the door behind her and perched on the very end of Sara’s sofa. She was afraid of what she’d find if she let herself sink into the cushions.

  “Fight,” Sara said, eyes glazed over as she stared intently at the television. It was a commercial for a spray mop. “With Joey. He won’t respond to my calls.”

  “What a coincidence. That’s why I’m here, too.”

  Sara turned to her, one eyebrow raised. “You got in a fight with Joey?”

  She rolled her eyes at her little sister. “No. Pete.”

  “That makes more sense. What about?”

  Holly wanted to tell Sara all about it. Truthfully, she wanted to tell anyone who would listen all about it. She needed a purge.

  But she could not have a serious conversation with her sister when she looked like this.
It was gross. And distracting.

  “I feel like I should call the Red Cross to come in here. This place is a disaster.”

  “Rude,” Sara said. “It’s my lazy day. And I’m sad.”

  Holly stood up and held her hands out to Sara, pulling her from the couch and shoving her towards her bedroom. “Fix your hair and put on real pants. We need ice cream.”

  “We can order some,” Sara said even as she pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair.

  Holly took another look at the couch and wrinkled her nose. “You need to get off of this couch and out of this house. And so do I. We are hitting the town.”

  Downtown Nantucket

  “I’m not sure why I wasted so many hours of my life standing in lines outside of bars and clubs,” Holly said, taking a bite of her salted caramel waffle cone. “Hitting the town like this is way more fun. And delicious.”

  “The weather is perfect,” Sara agreed, slouching back in the red metal chair outside of Sundae Best Ice Cream Parlor.

  The clouds from the afternoon had lifted, so a few stars were visible in the dark blue night sky even with the glow of the downtown lights. There was a light breeze, but nothing a borrowed sweatshirt from Sara’s closet couldn’t handle.

  Young women teetered on high heels towards the bars and clubs that were now buzzing down the block. It reminded Holly why she was happy to be in her slip-on sneakers and mom jeans. Those girls were one unexpected sneeze away from an ankle sprain.

  The clock tower above the old church chimed eight o’clock. Holly couldn’t help it—her thoughts flitted toward home. Alice would be asleep already, and Grady would be heading to bed.

  Pete had come home from work early like he’d said he would, pizza in hand. He made it clear, through his body language rather than his words, that Holly didn’t need to be at the house if she didn’t want to be.

  And since Holly didn’t yet know if she was looking for an apology or prepared to give one, she decided that was probably best.

  Sara leaned back in her chair, licking the drips from her cookies-and-cream waffle cone. “What say you we avoid our problems for a few more minutes, huh?”

  “Agreed,” Holly said, taking a bite out of her cone. Pete thought Holly was crazy for using her teeth to eat ice cream, but it was the only way to keep her lips clean. “Have you seen Eliza since they left the hospital?”

  “I delivered some more freezer meals on Saturday. They should be set on frozen lasagna and breakfast burritos for a month, at least.”

  “Where were you when I had Alice and Grady?” Holly asked with a sigh. “We spent so much money on takeout when the kids were born. Pete knew even less about cooking back then than he does now, and I was exhausted.”

  “Hey, Eliza requested the freezer meals,” she said. “I wish I was thoughtful enough to think of it on my own, but I’m not. Our oldest sister is just a good planner.”

  “That she is.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, licking their cones and watching people walk down the sidewalks.

  Holly sometimes found it strange that she lived in a vacation destination. She spent every day of her life in a place some people looked forward to visiting all year long. So many people were probably deeply jealous of her life. And yet most of the time, Holly felt like she took it for granted.

  Sara sighed. “That was a nice thirty seconds of avoiding our problems. But now you have your serious face on.”

  “Sorry. I suck.”

  “No, I’m already out of things to talk about anyway,” Sara said. “You first.”

  Holly shook her head. “No, you. I’ve been a bad big sister recently. I’ve only been to see Eliza once. Maybe letting you go first will make me feel better.”

  “Always happy to assuage your guilt.” Sara’s shoulders sagged forward. “It’s dumb. Well, actually, that’s sort of the problem. Apparently, I’m not very supportive. Or attentive. Or caring.”

  Holly’s expression must have revealed more than she’d intended because Sara promptly threw a napkin at her.

  She held up one hand in surrender. “Sorry! I mean, it’s true those are not the first three qualities people associate with you, but I’m sure that’s not what you mean.”

  “It kind of is, actually. Joey got that part in the movie, and I was so busy being annoyed with him that I never got excited for him. Now, he’s out of the movie and it’s too late.”

  Holly froze.

  Joey.

  She’d completely forgotten about the threat Mr. Monroe had made.

  “Wow, I really am a terrible sister,” she said, pressing her palm into her forehead. She peeked around her arm at Sara’s confused expression. “I sort of got into it with the casting director and his wife, and they said they were going to cut Joey from the movie. To sever ties with our family or something weirdly villainous like that.”

  Sara’s mouth fell open. “What happened?”

  “There was a fight, and—”

  “You fought them?!”

  “No! Grady did.” Holly shook her head and took a deep breath. “Grady fought their son. He was being bullied and, thanks to Pete’s cousin Rob, he decided to take things into his own hands.”

  “Good for him.” Sara threw a fist of solidarity into the air. “Not great for Joey, admittedly. But good for Grady.”

  “No! No, God, no. Not good for Grady, either. I don’t want him getting in fights.”

  Sara wrinkled her nose. “Would you rather he get beat up?”

  “I’d rather he talk to me about what’s going on.”

  “That’s a big ask for a ten-year-old. I’m thirty-one and still no good at it.” Sara licked a drip from the side of her cone. “Is that your problem then? Grady got in a fight?”

  “More or less. Mostly more,” Holly admitted. “Also, Pete’s cousin is staying with us and he’s horrible. He’s lazy and a slob and sets a bad example for the kids.”

  “Hey, careful. This is starting to feel like a personal attack.”

  For the first time all day, Holly laughed. “Today was your day off. You get a pass.”

  “Much obliged.”

  “But every day is a day off for Rob. He has no ambition. I’m starting to think he’ll never leave my couch.”

  “Have Pete tell him to hit the road.”

  Holly scoffed. “Pete likes having Rob around. I think it reminds him of when they were kids.”

  Sara bobbed her head back and forth. “I mean, I kinda get that. Life was easier when we were kids. Much less to worry about.”

  “Unless your delinquent second cousin shows up and leads you astray.” Holly took a too-large bite of her ice cream, giving herself an instant brain freeze.

  As soon as she had enough control of her motor functions to unpinch her face and open her eyes, she saw Sara staring at her, an eyebrow arched all the way to her hairline.

  “What?”

  “You cannot seriously be worried about Grady being led astray by one bad influence.”

  “Sure I can. Why not?”

  “Do you remember the Frederickson family?” A smirk spread across Sara’s face, her eyebrows wagging as Holly tried to jog her memory. “They moved into the rental three houses down for the entire year I was in sixth grade.”

  “Oh, okay, yeah. I was in eighth,” Holly said, beginning to recall some details. “Danny Frederickson was so cute.”

  “And so much trouble! He stole cigarettes out of his mom’s purse.”

  Holly laughed. “He made me try one, and I threw up.”

  “Made you try one?” Sara’s expression said that was not how she remembered it. “From what I recall, you asked for one.”

  Holly’s smile died on her lips. “I most certainly did not.”

  “Yes, you did!” Sara was having way too much fun with this. She used her dripping ice cream cone like a pointer, jabbing it in Holly’s direction so cookies and cream splattered across the table. “You wanted to impress him so badly that you smoked your first-e
ver cigarette. It was up in our treehouse. When Mom asked why you threw up, you told her I punched you in the stomach.”

  Holly winced. “Okay. I might remember this a little.”

  “Bygones and whatnot,” Sara said, waving a hand to dismiss the long-gone offense. “All I’m saying is, kids are impressionable. But they’re also… unimpressionable.”

  Holly raised a brow. “What?”

  “As soon as Rob is gone, Grady will forget all about him. Don’t worry so much.”

  “Easier said than done,” Holly said, echoing Sara’s words from earlier.

  Suddenly, her younger sister’s smile turned devious. “I think I have an idea for how we can both forget and relax. For tonight at least.”

  “Oh no. What?”

  “When Mom was moving out of the Howard house, I saved your old stash of movies from the donation pile. Along with a VHS player.”

  “My monster movies,” Holly said in astonished recognition. “I forgot about those.”

  “Care to get another waffle cone and relive our youth?” Sara asked, wagging her brows.

  Holly couldn’t think of anything more out of character for her than binging on ice cream and watching B-rated monster movies. Which is why she promptly agreed.

  They went back to Sara’s place. Holly vacuumed under Sara’s couch cushions while Sara fought with the VHS player, cursing the tangle of cords.

  “This is why we invented streaming. So no one would have to deal with AUX cables ever again,” she huffed when she finally dropped down on the sofa. After a second, she stiffened. “Where did I put my ice cream? That’s probably melted by now.”

  Holly held out a bowl, Sara’s ice cream cone overturned inside of it so it looked like a plated dessert from a fancy restaurant. “I saved it for you.”

  In an uncharacteristically sweet move for Sara, she reached out and patted Holly’s hand twice. “You’re the best.”

  “So are you,” Holly smiled.

  Suddenly, the screen burst to life in a grainy flash of black and green goo. A shrill scream echoed through the speakers. They both yelped and then dissolved into giggles.

 

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