Last Chance Harbor

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Last Chance Harbor Page 11

by Vickie McKeehan


  At that, Julianne turned to River. “It must be fascinating to do what you do, to travel all over the world to do it. The places you must’ve seen digging up old artifacts.”

  “I could show you slides from around the globe but you’d be bored within five minutes. Besides, my traveling days are over. Since we’re wrapping up this dig on the dunes, all I’m waiting for are the permits to come in so that we can start renovating the building across from the marine center.”

  “I’ll be the first one to line up for a tour. My grandmother on my mother’s side was Chumash. She’d tell me fascinating stories about her ancestors, the way they lived and worked. Is it okay to come by the site sometime before you shut it down?”

  “You bet. Stop by anytime.”

  After Brent and River disappeared through the swinging door to rejoin the party, Ryder captured Julianne’s hand, tugged her out the back door to the terrace. Under the twinkling glow of stars, they walked along the garden path among budding lavender and jasmine.

  “I didn’t know your grandmother was Chumash.”

  “Santa Ynez Band. She was a teacher, too.”

  “Even though your father divorced her daughter…?”

  “Pop encouraged me to visit her. My mother found her boring but I thought my grandmother was a treasure. Come to think of it, I guess my mother found most everything around here not to her liking, including the man she married and the little girl she left behind.”

  “Do you have any idea where she went?”

  “Gran got a postcard from her from Florida about five years back, needing money, of course. Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. You haven’t once said a word about our kiss last night.”

  She sent him a roll of her eyes. “I didn’t know I was supposed to alert the media. Like you, I relish my privacy.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He captured her waist, spun her into his arms. A breath away from her lips, he muttered, “If only we had music.”

  “I hum a mean rendition of Somewhere over the Rainbow.”

  “Excellent selection,” he said, nuzzling her jaw.

  They swayed back and forth to a Hawaiian beat until their mouths met, putting an end to the humming. A surge of heat speared its way upward as they found another kind of rhythm.

  Abruptly, she ended the kiss. “I have to think about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because right now I need to get back inside. It seems rude that we’re necking at my own party.”

  “I get the hint. We’ll postpone this till after.”

  “Then what? Meet up in the parking lot? It’s been a long time… Deal.”

  “Uh, Julianne?”

  “Yes.”

  “I might need a minute.”

  She looked down, aimed her stare below his belt. “Ah. You’re right. I’d better take point.”

  He grinned.

  On her way back, Jordan intercepted her in the kitchen, handed her a napkin. “You might want to freshen up your lipstick.”

  Julianne felt her cheeks go pink—as if she were back in sixth grade and caught by a grownup playing spin the bottle. “I…we…were just getting some…fresh air. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She heard Jordan stifle a chuckle.

  “Not a thing. I have Keegan and River making another pass with hors d’oeuvres.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for welcoming me to town like this,” Julianne said while taking out her compact to reapply her lip gloss.

  “Nonsense. I love any excuse to throw a party.”

  “Come on, with the B&B to run, two active toddlers, guests to deal with, I’m aware this is a very big deal, especially since Nick’s time during the week is spent at the bank in addition to splitting time on the town council.”

  “Like I said before, now is our slow season. As soon as business picks up in March, Nick steps back into the role of innkeeper—part-time at the bank. That was the deal he made with Murphy.”

  Julianne watched as Jordan neatly loaded up one tray with bacon-wrapped chicken bites, then another with coconut shrimp. “I’ll take that. My turn to do more than lock lips with Ryder.”

  When the man walked in through the back door, she grinned at him, gathered up one platter, handed it off before grabbing the other. “Let’s go feed the masses.”

  Carting food gave them both the opportunity to chat with the rest of the partygoers. Despite the fact the get-together was in her honor, she knew Ryder needed to circulate, too. So they made the rounds.

  Their ears pricked up when they realized the buzz had turned to the discovery of the box along with its contents—so much for their attempt at secrecy. Who needed the Internet when news traveled like wildfire in a small town?

  Some of the more senior guests, like Wade Hawkins, the retired history professor and member of the town council, began to reminisce about Andrew and Layne Richmond. Wade scrunched up his face, pondered the past. “I remember Andrew. He used to stock his hobby shop with train sets and a treasure trove of baseball cards. Walk in there and Andrew could tell you anything you wanted to know about batting averages and the Southern Pacific Railroad.”

  “Unusual blend of interests,” Ryder remarked.

  “Indeed it was but that was Andrew. He passed what he knew down to his son. Eleanor never seemed happy with the man she married. That woman could pick Layne apart in public like a vulture on roadkill and leave him humiliated.”

  Mayor Murphy nodded. “Now those two were an unusual pairing. Talk about opposites attract. I remember when word got out that Eleanor wouldn’t even let him take a shower in his own home—people were rooting for Layne to leave the witch.”

  “Get out,” Brent said. “I never heard that story. Are you saying this man couldn’t shower inside his home? The home he paid for? How could he put up with behavior like that?”

  Bran Sullivan shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s the simple answer. But for the most part he put up with Eleanor’s craziness because of the kids. Oh, every now and again he’d talk about getting out to his dad or to me or whoever would listen…”

  “But then there were the times she’d go bat-shit crazy on him or the kids in a public place. Those incidents, no one could hide,” Murphy added. “Couple of times Eleanor stole things from the store. I saw her do it myself.”

  “So no one was really surprised when she committed suicide?” Julianne ventured.

  “Or that her husband took off?” Ryder posed.

  “I never believed a word of it,” Wade said. “Layne loved those kids too much to leave. That’s why he put up with her crap. Cooper, Drea, and Caleb were his pride and joy. Eleanor knew that and used it to her advantage every single chance she could—did her best to turn those kids against their own father.”

  “My God, so she used her own children to keep him churning out the income, bringing his paycheck home to her? How miserable the man must’ve been,” Julianne concluded.

  “There has to be a way to check to see if Layne actually left town with Brooke, even if it has been twenty years,” Ryder offered.

  “And there is—databases to check, a cold trail to follow. If they’re alive, I’ll find them,” Brent promised.

  After the guests left Julianne walked Ryder out to his pickup as she had the night before. Feeling a bit sad on the heels of learning the details about Layne’s unhappy life with Eleanor, she had a hard time letting the subject go. “Do you think it was wrong of him to get involved with Brooke when he was still married?”

  “Wrong? Sure. But the man was obviously unhappy living with a woman who wouldn’t even show him the most basic respect. What do you suppose the kids thought of him? You know, when they saw how their own mother treated their dad like a dog in his own home? Did you know Bran told me Layne spent three years sleeping on the couch? I don’t condone cheating, but that alone goes a long way to show Eleanor certainly wasn’t committed to making the marriage work.”

  �
��Myrtle Pettibone told me it was common knowledge that Eleanor had a habit of shoplifting from every store in town. Eleanor wouldn’t let the kids have any friends over and she constantly complained that her husband never made enough money. That’s why she had to steal.”

  “Yeah, she showed all the classic signs of a control freak. Right now, my sympathy is lining up with Layne.”

  “Mine too.”

  He drew air deep and the wind rushed into his lungs. “There’s a flea market over in San Sebastian. I thought you might like to go with me, check the place out. You might find something for your house or your business there.”

  “Oh Ryder. What a great idea! That reminds me. While we’re at it, why not check out Cleef Atkins’ place? Logan says it’s the farm where everything from the school’s been stored all these years. It’s located south of town which means it isn’t out of the way at all. Why not stop in, see what he has left from that time-frame?”

  “You mean the stuff’s been stored there all these many years?”

  “Yep. We could decide for ourselves if any of it is worth bringing back, which would save a good chunk of the budget.”

  “That is Logan’s mindset.”

  “Then it’s a date.”

  He took her hand, drew her in, and nibbled a line down to her chin and to her lips.

  “Mmm, I’d forgotten making out could feel so good.”

  “Here, let me see what I can do to make it feel even better.”

  After the party broke up, Ryder wasn’t the only one with a woman on the brain.

  Troy took his advice and headed for town. He was waiting for Bree outside McCready’s when she walked out the back door carrying a trash bag headed for the dumpster.

  “What are you doing here?” Bree asked before spotting what Troy held in his hands. “You brought me food? From Ms. Dickinson’s party? Oh my God, Troy, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  Troy chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “No, really. I’m starving. I was headed home to eat a carton of yogurt or fix a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What have you got there?”

  “Crusted chicken tenders, some mini meatballs, spinach sticks, a few empanadas, and for dessert, a plateful of strawberries and chocolate sauce.”

  “There’s enough food here to feed four people. I’ll never be able to eat all this.”

  “You couldn’t come to the party so I brought the party to you. At least a small sampling of all the appetizers. Jordan did mind me packing it up for you. Although they did run out of the mini lasagna cups.”

  “Where should we eat this? Back at my place or sit on the dock and watch the waves come in.”

  “You’ve been cooped up all night in that stuffy bar. I’d say the pier.”

  Bree stuck her arm through Troy’s. “Excellent choice. It’s a beautiful night. Why don’t we take a walk?”

  Chapter Eight

  During the morning milking, Ryder began to let doubt seep in about the wisdom of asking Julianne to spend the day with him. Not because he didn’t want to be with her. But as so often happened, when he thought of Bethany, it was like a layer of ice formed in his veins. It wasn’t fair to Julianne that he wasn’t ready to make a connection like that with another female. It didn’t take much for his self-confidence to nose-dive, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He needed to ask himself some hard questions. Was he attracted to Julianne? Hell yes. What man breathing wouldn’t be? But was he willing to risk his heart again? He thought about Layne Richmond.

  “Layne was a great guy. He deserved better than Eleanor, that’s for sure,” Scott said out of the blue.

  Startled, Ryder did his best not to show it. “You knew him?”

  “Sure. I’d go into the shop to talk trains or trade baseball cards with him.”

  “See, that’s what bothers me. How in the world do two people like Layne and Eleanor hook up and decide to stick it out and make each other miserable the entire time. I don’t want that for myself.”

  “No one wants that.”

  “Didn’t Layne have any idea she was so mean-spirited, let alone spoiled and self-indulgent, before he tied the knot?”

  Scott cocked a brow at the question.

  “I’m just repeating Ina Crawford’s list of Eleanor’s best-known personality traits. Ina talked my ear off last night.”

  “I suppose the why of it remains a question for the ages.”

  “I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

  “Okay. How’s this? Layne used to be a teacher, a good one. He taught fifth grade. He was born to the role because he loved the classroom, connected with the kids. But too many years listening to Eleanor bitch made him give it up.”

  “Geez, did this guy ever stand up to her about anything? Let me guess. The crappy salary didn’t sit well with Eleanor.”

  “That, plus the fact being a teacher wasn’t as prestigious as touting that her husband was a business leader in the community, even if everyone knew it was Layne’s father who actually owned the store.”

  “You knew Eleanor?”

  Scott sighed. “Everyone knew the ‘Pelican Pointe Princess’ which is what we used to call her behind her back because of her snotty disposition. She had a habit of acting like she was royalty and better than everyone else.”

  Ryder found that funny. “I guess she forgot about her penchant for stealing.”

  “The five-finger discount wasn’t her trademark.”

  “What was?”

  “The shitty way she treated her husband. He deserved better.”

  “That’s just sad, man. I would’ve walked. I don’t know a man who wouldn’t have. Why the hell didn’t he leave? Who would put up with the constant verbal assault?”

  “According to Layne, she’d threaten to hurt herself, threaten to hurt the kids, if he left. She had him played. He even mentioned to a friend that one night he packed his bags to leave. But Eleanor was having none of it. She actually woke the kids up at some ungodly hour, marched them downstairs like little soldiers, and told them that Daddy was leaving and never coming back. The kids started to cry.”

  “Of course they did. She knew that. God, the woman was a major-league manipulator,” Ryder decided. “That’s a helluva pressure cooker to find yourself in on a daily basis and not be able to get out.”

  “The thing is Layne made even less money working for his father than he had teaching which led to even more fights.”

  “Ah. That probably just made her verbally abuse him all the more.”

  “The guy just couldn’t seem to win with her, no matter what he did or how he tried to make her happy. As to why he stayed in that miserable living arrangement, Layne adored his children. He wanted to make absolutely certain they had a chance at success without the stigma of divorce.”

  “There are no guarantees in life, certainly not with kids. You want a guarantee buy a waffle iron,” Ryder grumbled. “Two-parent homes are idyllic. Everyone’s onboard with that. But some relationships can’t be resurrected and shouldn’t be. People make mistakes. They get with the wrong people. What are they supposed to do, stick it out? In my opinion, living in a verbally, physically abusive atmosphere hurts kids more because they end up thinking that’s the way adults resolve their conflicts. Relationships like that are far more toxic to them than splitting custody.”

  “You speak from experience. Back then, I don’t think you could get anyone in town to believe Layne and Eleanor were ever a good match.”

  “That’s just sad. So why didn’t she let Layne go? And why didn’t he stand up for his kids? Don’t give me that crap about the stigma of divorce. Those kinds of people usually assume kids like me are headed for prison because my parents split up. That’s ridiculous thinking just because my parents chose not to share a home. From my perspective having to deal with a mother like Eleanor is what put the kids at risk in the first place. Not some archaic idea of living apart. And what about Eleanor’s erratic behavior, her wild mood
swings, and a lot of the other shit she pulled? Her antics had to stick with those kids for life. People should’ve taken that into account back then instead of tiptoeing around the problem.”

  “I’m with you there. That continual hostile environment between two adults couldn’t have been good for the kids.”

  “Layne was obviously stuck. I actually feel for the guy. But why should the sane parent have to put up with a mean-spirited spouse because of some antiquated label? And why stick a label on the poor kids as failures before they have a chance at life, at proving anyone wrong? What about the kids who lose a parent to war? Is that okay to raise kids in a one-parent home? Or car accidents? What about cancer? Cancer takes its toll and leaves plenty of kids with only one parent. How about heart attacks? I lost my dad to one. After that, I just had my mom. She never remarried. Was she supposed to walk down the aisle just so she could say, ‘okay, now Ryder has a father figure in his life.’ Was I scarred because I grew up with only one parent? I don’t think so. Some circumstances are simply beyond a father’s or a mother’s control. Yet kids from divorce are considered at risk. Why is that?”

  “You’re angry.”

  Ryder ran both hands through his hair, realized he was livid. “Damn right I am. It irritates me when I hear couples say they’ll stick it out for the sake of the kids. I remember my parents fighting about everything. I’ve spent time as a soldier in a war zone and felt less static. But after the divorce the calm settled in. I might’ve had to shuttle between two homes but it was a damn sight better than listening to them hate on each other. Even at five years old I knew neither one was happy.”

  “That’s why you’re having second thoughts about Julianne?”

  “Not at all. I need to get my head clear of Bethany first, that’s all.” The silence that generated had him looking up at Scott. “Okay, maybe there’s still a degree of trust issues with me.”

  “You can’t possibly believe Julianne is anything like Bethany?”

  “No, but look at Layne Richmond. Did he know he was marrying a bitch upfront? I doubt it. Did she turn into one after the ceremony ended? Maybe. Was he a dickhead and that’s what turned her into the wife from hell? All I’m saying is there’s a chance Julianne might be hiding the fact she’s a despicable human being, hiding her true self.”

 

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