“So, what’s up? Why aren’t you and Tom going out to dinner after all? You’re not worried about leaving Stella here, are you?”
“No, no, not at all. It would’ve been good for Stella to spend the evening with you. You could spoil her, get your Stella fix.” Marianne sighed. “But Tom and I are fighting and I couldn’t stomach spending what was supposed to be a romantic night with him, pretending that I’m not absolutely furious with him.” Her pulse raced through her veins with the anger of her words.
Leslie put a hand on her shoulder and let it lie there. They both stayed silent and let the waves absorb them. “Married couples fight, sweetie. It’s part of the deal. Men are from Mars, you know.”
Marianne smiled. “I know. But Tom and I don’t fight all that often. And never about something this important. I’ve never known him to be so wrong before. Like, way off.”
Leslie turned in her rocking chair to face her. “This sounds big. You can tell me what it is, or you don’t have to. But ponder on this a moment. Is there any way you can see his point of view? Any way to give him the benefit of the doubt and try to understand it from his vantage point?”
Marianne thought while tears escaped her eyes. Soon she was wiping the moisture off her cheeks. “Not without disowning one member of my family.”
Leslie’s eyes popped wider. “Oh my.”
Hank wandered onto the porch. “Ah,” he said, “two of my most beautiful ladies. Where’s my third?”
Marianne turned away and subtly wiped her eyes while Leslie said, “Stella’s out in the driveway, sifting sand.”
Hank laughed. “One of her favorite pastimes. That, and digging in the sand out back. Doesn’t take much to please that little girl.”
Her face mended enough, Marianne stood and gave her dad a hug. “Hey, Daddy.” But she couldn’t fool him. He held on to her tight, rubbing her back, then pulled away to study her face.
“What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Her voice threatened to falter so she took a moment. Leslie replied, “She and Tom are having a disagreement.”
“Ah, baby doll,” he said. “Fights are okay. As long as you can come out the other side still in love.” He stood uncertainly, probably wondering if he should make his escape.
“Tom wants to keep Jeremy away from Stella. He thinks Jeremy is a danger to her,” she blurted. She had a mild pleasure seeing her dad and stepmom’s shocked reaction to her outrageous statement. Of course they would agree with her. And the more people she could round up to disagree with Tom, the more ammunition she’d have against him to change his mind.
Marianne plopped into a rocking chair. The others were motionless.
“Why does he think that?” Hank asked.
“He thinks it’s Jeremy’s fault that Stella was kidnapped. That if Jeremy hadn’t been in Stella’s life, she wouldn’t have been taken.”
Hank walked slowly over to a chair beside her and sat, too. “Hmm, let’s take a look at this. Jeremy didn’t cause Stella’s abduction.”
“I know! Of course he didn’t. Tom’s being ridiculous.”
“But Slotky only did what he did to get back at Jeremy. So from that perspective, I can see where Tom’s going with this.”
“Daddy! How can you say that? You know how hard Jeremy worked in prison and since he’s been released, to overcome his past mistakes. This isn’t fair!”
“It’s not fair, darlin’, but the Lord never promised us fair. It’s part of life. Jeremy knows that. He deals with that every single day.”
She sputtered in her outrage to his words. “He deals with it from the idiots that meet him on the street and don’t know what a great man he is, a man of God who is following his faith. Not from his very own family! We should all be supporting him.”
“And we are.”
“Yes, we are. The three of us. But my husband has now decided that Jeremy is no longer welcome in our home. And when he made that decision, I seriously have to reconsider how a man I supposedly love, can come up with that.”
“Now, sweetheart, don’t jump the gun. Time heals all wounds. Give it some time and either Tom will come around, or you will. Tom’s a good man. He’s trying to protect his daughter after a terrible event. You can’t blame him for that.”
“Oh, yes I can! Of course he can protect Stella. But not at the cost of shutting my brother out. That’s not only disrespectful to Jeremy, it’s disrespectful to me. And you.”
Hank reached over and grasped her hand. “Fear does a strange thing to a man. He’s terrified that something bad will happen to Stella on his watch. So now he’s battening down the hatches around those he loves. No way will anything like this happen again, not as long as he’s around. Remember, sweetheart, he doesn’t really know Jeremy. You met him and married him while Jeremy was away. He doesn’t have any allegiance to Jeremy.”
Marianne shook her head, the fight exhausting her. “But I do. And so, he should. It’s as simple as that.”
Hank stood. “You’re a grown woman and will make your own decisions. This is a tough one. I know how fiercely you love your brother. But just remember, Tom’s your husband. You and he are partners in life, in raising Stella. You’re not always going to agree, but you do need to get past this somehow.”
“I agree. Not by shutting Jeremy out of our lives, however.”
Hank nodded. “Maybe you can settle on a compromise.” He took a few steps toward the door. “I’ll leave you wise ladies to figure this out.”
Leslie murmured, “Chicken,” then chuckled. “Care for a walk on the beach?”
Marianne looked over at her. “Okay.”
* * *
She spent the evening at The Old Gray Barn and headed back only when Stella could barely keep her eyes open. She carried her into the Seaside Inn, and back into their apartment. Tom sat in the living room, watching television. His head jerked up when she entered. He was about to speak and Marianne gave him a “shhh” and pointed at the slumbering girl in her arms. He nodded and turned back to the tv.
Marianne carried her into the bedroom, laid her down and pulled off her clothes as best she could without waking her. Once she was down to her shirt and underwear, she pulled the blanket over her, leaned and positioned a kiss on Stella’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispered, and remained, her cheek brushing her daughter’s. She could lay here in this dark sweetness all night, her daughter’s sleepy scent encircling her senses.
Reluctantly she got up and left, closing the door behind her. Their tiny apartment within the Inn didn’t leave her many options if she wanted to avoid her husband, so she returned to the living room.
“She have fun at her Paw Paw’s house?”
Marianne nodded and sat, not on the couch beside him but in the easy chair close by. His gaze followed her, her selection not lost on him. “Tom, it’s going to take me a while to come to terms with this decision you made.”
He scooted to the end of the couch to be closer to her. “Marianne, I’m sorry for going behind your back about Stella’s party. That was wrong of me. I should’ve included you in that from the very beginning and not tried to hide it from you.”
Well, it was a start. But not nearly enough. “The fact that you hid it from me was wrong, and I accept your apology. But the bigger issue is about making Jeremy not welcome in our home. I’m never going to agree with you on that. You need to think about what you’re asking me to do, and you need to come to terms with having Jeremy around here. He’s part of the family.”
Tom blinked. “Part of my job as Stella’s father is to protect her.”
“Agreed. She’s no longer in any danger. The bad guy’s been arrested. He’s in jail.”
“For now.”
“Yes, for now. And we’ll stay on top of his trial. If for some unforeseeable reason he’s acquitted, we’ll take steps then. But Slotky is the bad guy here, not Jeremy.”
“I realize that. But Jeremy carries with him a decade of associations that I don’t want anywhe
re near Stella. Slotky was one. Who’s next? She’s my little precious angel. I don’t want her exposed to that element.”
Marianne sighed and rose. “I refuse to discuss this with you right now. I’m exhausted and going to bed. And Tom …” she looked around the room “…I’m not up to sleeping together tonight. I’m too hurt, I’m too angry, I’m too emotional.”
“What are you suggesting?” he said with a frown.
“I’ll bring you a sheet and a blanket. You can sleep on the couch.”
He looked like he would reply but she didn’t give him the chance. She went to fetch the bedding, plopped the stack on the couch, and escaped to their bedroom.
Chapter Ten
The Millers from Wisconsin were checking out. Marianne prepared their final bill and they handed over a credit card.
“It was such a pleasure to have you back this year.”
Mrs. Miller smiled. “We had a wonderful time. The Inn is so quaint, the beach is wonderful. And the food …? Oh my goodness, your chef has to be the best in the area. In fact, the food is even better than I remember from the last two winters we’ve stayed here. Did you get a new chef?”
“Nope, same one, but I added another part-time kitchen worker so Toby can focus more on menu design and cooking the main courses, and he can delegate the side dishes.”
“Perfect. Lovely. Delicious.”
The transaction complete, Marianne texted Tom. “If you’ll wait just a second, Tom will be here to carry your luggage to your car. I also wanted to tell you that we are now offering a discount for repeat reservers. If you reserve your spot for your next stay with just a two-week down payment, we’ll take 10% off your entire stay.”
“That’s a good deal!” Mrs. Miller looked excitedly at her husband. He glanced at her as he tucked his card back in his wallet, then gave a curt shake of his head.
Mrs. Miller sighed and turned back to Marianne. “We’re not ready to reserve today. How long is the offer good for?”
The offer, as designed, was only good until they stepped foot out of the Inn. Of course, she and Tom were the designers of the deal so she had the authority to extend it. “How long do you need to finalize your plans?”
Mr. Miller wandered over to his stack of luggage and Mrs. Miller lowered her voice. “I’m not sure. I’m dying to come back. But I have to convince him. He wants to go somewhere else.”
“Would it be rude to inquire why? Was it something we could’ve done better?”
“I’m not sure what his problem is. We’ve had three lovely winters here. Suddenly in the last few days he’s started talking about going somewhere else.”
“The last few days?”
“Yes. He knows I’m set on coming back. I’m not sure why the discount didn’t do it for him.”
Marianne studied the older woman and went ahead and asked what was on her mind. “Do you think it could be because of the issues we’ve had this winter? The fire in the storage shed, and the scare with Stella being taken?”
Mrs. Miller stared, her eyes going wide. “You know, that could be it, now that you mention it. He’s not one to talk much. But I know the fire really shook him. He’s asthmatic so he has trouble breathing in other than ideal environments. And when the news came out that the kidnapper of your adorable little girl was actually posing here at the Inn as a snowbird, I bet it got him thinking. Why put yourself at danger? There are so many other places to choose from.”
Marianne nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
Mrs. Miller gripped her forearm. “No, honey, none of this is your fault. But definitely could have an impact on my husband. I hope you don’t have a significant decrease in business because of this.”
She gave a small wave and joined Tom and her husband with the bags. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller. And if you want a little time to think about reserving, that discount will be good for another week.”
Tom gave her a look on his way to the door, but she didn’t care.
She was 90% sure the Millers wouldn’t return, as a direct result of the trouble with Slotky. She was 75% sure that the other departing guests who declined reserving for next year, did so because of the same reason. She had to do something, or her whole business and way of life would be over.
Her fingers shaking, she pulled up a search engine on her computer. She spent the next forty minutes searching for ideas of additional ways to attract guests to the Inn. When Tom came in and wanted to talk about the extension on the discount offer, she waved him off. When she was done, she had a list of ideas she’d consider pursuing.
She wasn’t about to go down without swinging.
* * *
Tom stopped his work of straightening the contents of the storage shed and put his hands on both hips, stretching his back slowly. The cricks and creaks expelled from his spine made him grimace. That couch was not the place to sleep for his demanding lumbar. The high-priced mattress in their bedroom, perfect for spinal alignment, was where he should be. Maybe after a night on the couch, Marianne would welcome him back.
His mind meandered to ideas to help sweeten the deal — candy, flowers. Those were usually surefire ways to put a smile on her face. Any thoughtful gift to make her realize how often she’s on his mind. Because she was, constantly, on his mind. After seven years of marriage, a child and the pressures of working together every day, she was still the woman of his dreams. The woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
But small, meaningless gifts like flowers and candy didn’t strike him as the most effective offerings now. He and his wife were too far apart on the ends of the spectrum. One of them would have to give in. He was feeling way too strongly about this topic for it to be him.
A childhood memory came to mind. Tom’s brother, Rod was the family hellion. Until Rod came along, the family was pretty normal and stable. Tom and his sister Lori were model kids. Sure, they got in trouble like any other kids, but never for anything crazy. And their punishments were more verbal than physical. His parents had it made. They rarely raised their voices. That’s how he and Marianne were bringing Stella up. Deal with her maturely, with reason. Get her to understand the right way, then reward her for following it.
Life was good until their little brother Rod was about ten. For such a young kid, he sure knew how to raise hell. From the time he bounced a basketball in the center of Mom’s extravagantly set Thanksgiving dinner table, to the time he punched a teacher in the face and got kicked out of public school, Rod never seemed to be happy unless he was causing trouble.
Tom had observed the toll these events took on his parents. His mother, so sweet and kind, had to learn how to be tough to handle this type of kid. His father developed a loud, firm voice Tom had never heard before. Family outings reduced in frequency and most of family time was figuring out how to respond to Rod’s latest escapade.
The years passed. Rod usually only stayed at each school for a year, then on to the next. His teen years arrived and the violations grew worse. Now, his mishaps drew the police. Burglaries, truancy, minor acts of violence. His mother withdrew into herself, at a loss as to how to raise this deviant child.
One night, Mom sat in her nightgown in their living room, her feet curled beneath her, watching television. A peaceful evening after a hard day’s work was interrupted by the sound of glass splintering, followed by a brick landing clumsily in the middle of the room. Mom screamed and jumped to her feet. Dad yelled, “What was that?” from another room. Tom ran down the hallway from his bedroom, just in time to see and hear a hot rod squealing away on the street outside of their calm, normal all-American neighborhood.
Seventeen-year-old Tom saw a change in his dad after that. The lines in his face hardened as he stood, arms around his terrified family. Danger and evil had invaded his home, his family. And he wasn’t going to stand idly by and let that happen.
Things moved fast after that. Mom and Dad evicted Rod from their home. He wasn’t welcome there anymore. While his parents were busy filing
papers to make Rod a ward of the state, basically disowning him and disavowing themselves as responsible for his actions, Rod stole a car and started driving west. He made it all the way to California before he was arrested and sent to juvie.
By the time he’d been locked up a year, the paperwork came through. Rod Mueller was no longer recognized a dependent child of James and Ellen Mueller. He was a ward of the state, incarcerated indefinitely in juvenile detention in California. Other than an occasional short back and forth between his mom and his brother, their connection was cut off. His parents were no longer responsible for paying the damages his brother inflicted. At least, his monetary damages. They would all be held to paying the emotional damages caused by his brother, for a long time to come.
In the shed, Tom shook his head, clearing it of ancient family history. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called his dad.
“Hey, Pops.”
“Tom! How’s it going?”
“Fine, just fine. I was thinking of you and thought I’d give you a call.”
“Glad you did. How’s that sweet little granddaughter of mine?”
Tom found a bench in the dark shed and sat. “Amazingly well, Dad. Seems like we dodged a bullet. She’s the same happy little girl she’s always been.”
“That’s great, Tommy. Glad to hear it.”
“Although, Marianne and I are taking her to counseling, just to be sure. Gives her someone unbiased to talk to about the kidnapping, and the counselor reports to us if there’s any problems we need to be aware of. But so far, everything’s great.”
“Terrific.”
“How are you and Mom?”
“Doing good, son. You and Marianne?”
“Good.”
“Great.”
Tom stifled a chuckle. So went every conversation he and his dad had ever had. Very little talking, topics just on the surface. “Well, I’m cleaning out the shed behind the Inn.”
“Okay, you sound busy. Thanks for calling, son.”
Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3 Page 55