Stranger on the Shore (Mirabelle Harbor, Book 4)

by Marilyn Brant

  I tried to catch Abby’s eye from across the room. She was wandering by a table filled with bronze statuettes, all with “nature” themes, that was set up for silent auction. She sipped from a flute of champagne and sampled a mushroom and caramelized onion appetizer pastry, which I tried, too, when the waiter came near enough to offer me one. Delicious!

  Finally, Abby spotted me waving at her, and she made a beeline toward me.

  “Have you been here long?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Just walked in the door. And I feel like one of the scullery maids who accidentally stumbled upon the Prince’s private party.”

  “I know. Same here. Did you check out the gift bags already?”

  I hadn’t yet, but I’d been given one when I entered. They were small and silver and filled with a variety of treats. Our handmade bracelets, of course, with one of Joy’s business cards attached to each one and a description of the B.E.A.D.S. project printed on the back. A twin pack of gourmet French cookies—macarons—freshly made by a nearby bakery. A tasteful sterling silver bottle stopper with the name of a local wine shop engraved on it. And more.

  “It’s like we’re celebrities,” I whispered. “Getting spectacular gifts whenever we walk into a room. I could get used to this.”

  “Yeah, seriously.” She glanced around the room. “Have you seen any of the others? Lorelei told me she wasn’t going to be able to get here until six thirty, but I’m really surprised not to see Joy or Peter around. And where’s Gil? I thought he was coming with you.”

  “I should probably text him in a minute, if he doesn’t send me a message first. He was planning on coming here early to talk to Peter, but he and I were going to meet in the lobby at—oh.”

  I stopped.

  Peter Barrett had just walked into the enormous ballroom, looking very serious and a little sweaty. Not at all like his usual cool and confident self.

  Ohhh. Had he and Gil already had their chat?

  As we approached him, Peter pulled at the sleeves of his suit jacket, straightened his tie, and wiped his brow.

  “What’s wrong?” Abby asked him at once.

  He cleared his throat but didn’t answer that question.

  Oh, no.

  “I have to be in here right now, but, um, Joy and Gil are in the staff lounge next to the coat room. She—they—I mean, um... ” He shook his head then pointed vaguely in the direction of their location.

  “Is one of them sick?” Abby asked, confused.

  But, given what I knew about Peter’s employer, I more than suspected what the real problem was.

  “Is their father here?” I asked him.

  Abby looked at me like I had two heads. “Their father? Neither of them have spoken with that guy in years. Why would he—”

  “So, Gil told you?” Peter asked me.

  “Just that the Canton Corporation is the parent company for Naturalacrity,” I replied.

  “What?” Abby cried.

  “I tried to explain that he just wanted to give his daughter a little boost. Help her out.” Peter rubbed his forehead, his lips in a grim line. “She wasn’t buying it. She didn’t accept my apology for my part in ‘deceiving’ her, as she put it. I’d planned to introduce her to the crowd, but she says she won’t come back out here tonight. She said a lot of other things, too.” He exhaled and inhaled again, rather unsteadily. “I’m not allowed to ever talk to her again. Anywhere. At any time.” He looked genuinely hurt by this, and I felt for him. I could tell that, ever since they met at the Craft Festival last month, he’d been falling for her.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Peter.”

  He shrugged. “Thanks.”

  “We need to go to her,” Abby said, tugging at my arm. “C’mon, Marianna.” Then, to Peter, she added, “Joy’s relationship—or lack thereof—with her father isn’t something Joy talks about openly. But she feels everything quite deeply. Her reaction isn’t all about you, but people who know her don’t ever go behind her back. For one thing, she always figures it out. And for another, it insults her terribly.” She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s not impossible that she’ll get over this, though. Eventually.”

  Peter swallowed and nodded toward the door. “Please just tell her I’m sorry. Again.”

  We intercepted Lorelei in the lobby and filled her in on the situation en route to the staff lounge.

  “Damn, that’s not good,” Lorelei said. “This is one of those times when friends just have to be there for each other. She’s gonna need us tonight. All of us.” And she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and Abby’s, as the three of us went in search of Joy.

  When we found her in the small side room, Gil was holding her and she was sobbing uncontrollably, as if her heart had been shattered.

  I wanted to rush up to them and help hold and comfort her, too, the way I would Kathryn or Ellen or someone I loved like family, but she looked inconsolable, even for Gil.

  He gazed at me from over her head, a sad half smile on his beautiful lips, as Lorelei, Abby, and I surrounded the two of them to offer our shoulders to lean on as well.

  “We’re here for you,” Abby whispered.

  Joy sniffled, glanced at each of us, and broke into a fresh round of tears. “We worked so hard,” she sobbed. “And it was all fake.”

  Gil kissed his sister’s forehead and stroked her hair. “It wasn’t all fake,” he murmured. “The guests love the bracelets in their gift bags. I watched several people pull theirs out and exclaim how lovely they were. Their positive reaction is real. And Peter’s admiration of you—”

  “I hate Peter,” Joy snapped so vehemently that I almost took a step backward. Sweet, generous, loving Joy sounded downright murderous. “That interfering, condescending, sneaky ass! I can’t believe I actually almost let myself like him. That I thought for ten seconds that he was a kindred jade-green.” She huffed with the expectation that we knew what this meant. “I was fooled... and I just feel so stupid.” She leaned against Gil’s chest again, crying some more, until she suddenly pulled back and punched her brother in the upper torso, hard enough that all of us gasped. “And I can’t believe you knew! He lied to me and you knew, Gil. How could you know something like this—even for a couple of days—and not tell me?”

  Gil pulled her even closer. “Sorry, Sis,” he whispered, smoothing her hair again. “I was only trying to get a handle on Peter’s intentions before talking with you. He was definitely doing our dad’s bidding and, maybe I’ll regret saying this, but Peter might not be such a bad guy. It’s clear he doesn’t know much about our family history. You heard his explanation. When Dad approached him about this project, Peter thought he was just being a helpful go-between. Neither of us were even supposed to find out that Dad’s corporation was behind it. So, if I hadn’t stumbled upon the logo—”

  “That makes him all the more devious and contemptible, in my opinion,” Joy declared, wiping her eyes with an angry dab. “He willingly helped our dad control and manipulate me, and under the guise of pretending to support something I truly believe in and care about. That’s just—just so infuriating. And it hurts me so, so much.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I don’t think Peter anticipated that. And even Dad—God, Joy. You have to know how freakin’ hard it is for me to defend him on anything, but I don’t think he meant to hurt you. Not this time. He did anyway, and I want to strangle him for it, but I can’t help but doubt that was his intention. And you know better than anyone all of the reasons why I haven’t spoken to him in practically two decades. This thing with Naturalacrity, though—it seems different. It could be as simple as the fact that he knew you’d never accept his help any other way. Maybe he thought he’d finally found something he could do to support you as an adult. A way to feel less guilty for all the ways he didn’t support you as a kid, you know?”

  Joy glanced up at him and then back at all of us. “So, friends, what do y’all make of this psychoanalysis? Do you think what my brother is say
ing could be true?”

  Lorelei shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what we think about it, or even if it’s true or not. What matters now is figuring out what you need to do to find peace within yourself so you can move on.”

  Abby nodded. “You always told me that we were family. Family we’d chosen. And that meant a lot to me, Joy, since I was so far from home and didn’t have anyone here after Chandler left.” She reached out to squeeze Joy’s arm. “It works both ways.”

  “Family. That’s how you all made me feel,” I heard myself admitting aloud. “Just because you haven’t known me as long as everyone else in this room, Joy, it doesn’t mean I’m not here for you, too.” I paused. “And, for the record, I know a little something about very difficult parents. I should’ve owned stock in about a dozen ice cream companies for all the gallons I’ve eaten as comfort food in my lifetime. So, I say we start with a few pints and go from there.”

  “Agreed,” said Abby.

  “And there’s nothing wrong with a few bottles of booze,” chimed in Lorelei. “My vote is for some hard brandy tonight.”

  All of us laughed.

  Gil said, “I’d love to join you ladies, but I’m going to hash out a few things with Peter Barrett.” He gently swiped a few remaining tears off his sister’s cheek and exhaled. “You go get yourselves out of here, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Joy hugged him one more time, and then she and the other two women started heading for the door. But I hung back just long enough to ask Gil privately, “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged. “Been better. This thing stirred up emotions neither Joy nor I like remembering, but I know she can’t calmly talk with Peter about what’s been going on behind the scenes—not at this point. And not when it involves both the guy she’s been dating this summer and the father she’s been estranged from for years. Surprisingly, though, I think I can have that conversation now.” He smiled at me. “Getting to know you and understanding a bit better the struggles of a parent... well, it’s helped me to see the emotional rollercoaster from the other side.”

  “I’m glad for that. I aim to be useful.”

  “You’re more than useful, Marianna.” His smile turned into a full-on grin.

  “Is he here?” I asked. “Your father?”

  Gil shook his head. “Not as far as I know. And it’s better that way for all concerned. I’ll have to make sure Peter understands that.” Then he leaned down, kissed me softly on my mouth, and gazed at me, somewhat sadly, I thought. “But hanging out with this Barrett dude wasn’t the way I was hoping to spend tonight.”

  “Me either,” I said. “We’ve still got a few more days after this, though. I’d like them all to be with you.”

  He nodded and kissed me again. Then he sent me on my way with his sister and our friends, while he headed off in search of Peter.

  By the end of the night—and thanks to four half-gallons of premium ice cream (we each chose our favorite flavors and shared), plus topping (let’s just say we went kind of wild with those), and a large bottle of imported brandy—we’d managed to restore some of the brightness to Joy’s eyes again.

  But I couldn’t help but think that, much as I adored these women and felt accepted by them, I didn’t know them nearly well enough yet. I knew the essence of them—their good hearts, a few of their quirks—but not the details a person gathers from regular contact. Day in and day out interactions. One of the reasons why I treasured my friendship with Olivia so much was because we’d built that kind of knowledge about each other.

  She’d been on my mind an awful lot lately, and tomorrow I planned to call her, fill her in on everything, and hear all about what had been going on for her in Mirabelle Harbor. We’d have to have a real catch up over coffee when I got back to Illinois next week, but I missed her and didn’t want to have to wait that long to hear her voice.

  During our post-ice-cream coma, while Lorelei and Joy were channel surfing in hopes of finding a program that would make us all laugh, Abby mentioned my upcoming return to Mirabelle Harbor. She admitted she missed home sometimes. “My parents are still living there. My brother Allan, too. A handful of friends.” She looked wistful. “On certain days in October, I daydream about seeing the way the trees lining Main Street are on fire with color. During Easter, there’s nothing as funny as watching those little kids do their egg hunt in Eastman Field. I miss burgers at Sloppy Joe’s. On rare occasions, I even miss the snow.”

  “You are homesick,” I said with a laugh. “But, yes, the seasons are beautiful in the Midwest. I’ve always loved that about it, too.”

  “And being near Chicago is great. The Art Institute. The Magnificent Mile. All of the amazing theaters downtown.” She grimaced. “Just listen to me getting all sentimental about it. I probably drank too much brandy. Maybe if I had someone waiting back there for me, I’d return. I’d need a good reason, in any case, and I don’t have one.” She shrugged.

  “Any chance that you and Chandler might ever—”

  “No.” She paused. “Well, it’s very doubtful. First step would be to chain the guy down long enough so that he’d stay in one place. And, then, we’d have to work through all the reasons why we broke up.” She picked up her nearly empty brandy glass, finished the last drop, and shook her head. “It’s especially hard when a relationship is close to being right, but not quite, you know? Chandler and I had a lot of things going for us, just not enough. Or, I guess, the things that didn’t work between us were issues that could pull us apart. But there were other qualities that brought us together. Things I loved about him and haven’t found in any other man. It’s because of those things that a part of my heart still clings to him.”

  I thought about Abby’s comments for the rest of the night. How they related to Gil and me. As was the case with his sister, I knew the essence of him as a person. The kind of man he was—generous, warm, creative, intelligent, sexy—but I didn’t know the day in and day out details. The specific events that had shaped his relationship with his father, their subsequent estrangement, the past lovers Gil had alluded to, or why none of those girlfriends ever became his wife.

  He and I had talked about thousands of things, but there were thousands more we hadn’t so much as touched upon. There were questions about Gil that I knew I hadn’t even thought to ask. How could I leave Sarasota with so much still unresolved here? I didn’t even know yet if Gil and I were “close but not quite close enough... ” Heck, it’d taken Abby five years of being with Chandler to determine her answer to that question. Gil and I had scarcely had five weeks together as a couple. Quite simply, we needed more time.

  The next day, I called Olivia. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning and she was already bubbling over with ideas she had that might help me.

  “Hey, Marianna! I’ve been thinking about you and some great places you can check out when you return. There are these super cute apartments for rent on Spring Street, near where my brother-in-law Blake lives. Let me know if you want me to send you the links to their web listings, or I can ask Blake to scope them out for you. And, oh, this goes without saying, but you know you’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you need until you find the perfect place, right?”

  I grinned into the receiver. “I do know that. And, Olivia, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your offer and all you’re trying to do for me. You and your whole family are the best. But—I think I found a condo complex that I might like to move into.”

  “Really? That’s fantastic! I know there were some condos in Shar’s building, just off Crescent Lane. Were those the ones you were thinking of?”

  “The place I’m thinking of is further south. A lot further south, actually. I’m—”

  “You mean like Evanston? Or Lincoln Park? There are some lovely northern Chicago neighborhoods near the—”

  “I mean more like Sarasota.”

  She squealed. “What? Seriously? Is this about that hot guy—Gil? You’re thinking of staying?”

&n
bsp; When she finally stopped shooting questions at me long enough to give me a chance to answer, I told her about how things had definitely progressed with Gil. How I still didn’t know if our relationship would last forever—I’d been so wrong about Donny and, really, Gil was only my second serious boyfriend, ever. I needed to be more mindful of all of my decisions this time, but I felt Gil and I had a good chance.

  “Maybe it’s too soon to say,” I said, “but I’m falling for him for sure. It wouldn’t be the wisest thing for us to move in together just yet, even if he’d asked me, which he hasn’t. But I’ve been thinking a lot about it and, if I’m able to get a job down here, even something part time to help me get started, then renting an apartment or a condo in the building where a couple of my friends live might not be too insane of an idea, would it?”

  She sighed. “Not insane at all... although, dammit. I’m going to miss you if you stay in Florida.”

  “Well, if things don’t work out, I might be back in Mirabelle Harbor before you know it.” I paused. “To be honest, Olivia, other than being geographically closer to my daughter, the only part of my old life that even makes me consider returning home is your friendship. I’m not willing to let that go.”

  “Oh, Marianna. I wouldn’t let you. We’ll have a strong friendship always, whether you’re living in Mirabelle Harbor or in Siesta Key or in a frozen dome on Pluto. Although, I’m going to have to lobby the staff at Not the Same Old Grind to sell their coffee in bean form, so I can ship a few bags of it to you at your new address. We can each brew a pot and have our coffee dates over the phone.”

  “Deal. And I’ve got the perfect treat to go with our coffee! There’s a shop nearby called Fudge Fantasia. I’ll have to ship some of that up to you.”

  She laughed. “Then let’s hurry and set up our first long-distance coffee date. I’m already seriously excited to try that fudge... ”

  Chapter Twenty