No Ordinary Love: Sweetbriar Cove: Book Six

by Melody Grace

  “The marshes, past Black Gull Pond,” she said without hesitation. “With a few weights, you’d sink right to the bottom, and nobody would ever see you again.”

  Riley laughed. “Watch out, buddy!”

  “It actually wasn’t my idea,” Eliza said, turning back to him with a sweet smile. “It was Brooke’s pick.”

  Riley laughed even harder.

  “What’s this?” Brooke herself joined them, slipping an arm around Riley’s waist.

  “Eliza was just filling me in on your murder plans,” Riley said, squeezing her with clear affection.

  “Oh, the marshes!” Brooke exclaimed. “Good call, right? You’ve got the dirt road for driving, but it’s secluded, away from the main road . . .”

  “Nobody around to hear their cries for help,” Eliza agreed.

  Riley caught Cal’s eye. “We sure know how to choose them,” he said, grinning.

  “Amen to that,” Cal agreed. Riley slid another beer across the bar, and Cal took a gulp, feeling more relaxed than he had since . . . the last time his arm was around Eliza, and he was listening to the delighted sound of her laugh.

  He looked around the room. The “Memories” pair had been replaced by a guy singing Montgomery Gentry, complete with cowboy hat, and he recognized more of Eliza’s friends in the corner. A server passed with a platter of tacos, and Cal’s stomach rumbled.

  Eliza laughed, and patted his belly. “Is that a hint?”

  “More like a demand. Any chance of some food?” he asked Riley, who was already back, trying to serve the crowd. “When you get a moment.”

  Riley flashed a thumbs-up, so they headed across the room, where Jake was sitting with his girlfriend, an auburn-curled woman with what looked like paint speckling her pullover. “You must be Mackenzie,” he greeted her.

  “And you must be Calvin Archibald the fourth,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye.

  He groaned. “You told them?”

  Eliza smirked. “It’s a lovely name.”

  “Only my grandmother calls me that,” Cal said with a wince. “Usually when I’ve done something wrong.”

  “It’s OK,” Mackenzie reassured him, making space for them at the table. They crowded in just as Riley materialized with a platter of food. “My middle name is Leafie. Hippie parents.”

  “Ryan,” Jake offered. Cal turned to Eliza.

  “What about you?” Eliza shook her head. “Come on, now I have to hear it,” Cal grinned. “Let me guess, Rachel. Kristen. Anne-Marie.”

  “Gertrude,” Mac pitched in. “Sue-Ann. Dot.”

  “I hate you,” Eliza said to Cal, but she had a smile on her face. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but you all have to promise not to laugh.”

  “Cross my heart,” Cal agreed.

  “OK, OK,” the others chorused.

  Eliza paused. “It’s Elisabeth.”

  Cal blinked. “Eliza Elisabeth Bennett?” His lips twitched despite himself, and he had to cover it with a cough.

  “You promised!” Eliza elbowed him.

  “I know, it’s just . . .”

  “Unusual,” Mackenzie finished tactfully.

  Eliza sighed. “Mom’s mom was called Eliza, and Grams on my dad’s side was Elisabeth, but for some reason, instead of combining them like any sane person would, they decided to keep it, to the letter.”

  “I think it’s sweet,” Cal said loyally, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “And it could have been worse.”

  “How?”

  “You could have been Eliza Elisabeth Lizzie.” He grinned, and she broke into a smile.

  “Good point . . . Archie.”

  He shook his head firmly. “Nope.”

  “Arch?” she tried, fluttering her eyelashes.

  “No way.”

  “Hmm, we’ll work on that.” Eliza leaned in and kissed him. When they broke apart, Cal noticed Mac and Jake watching them—and trying hard not to look like it. He coughed, self-conscious, but Eliza didn’t seem to mind.

  “Eyes on the stage!” she ordered them playfully.

  “What, or we’ll miss Bert’s rousing rendition of ‘Bat Out of Hell’?” Mac shot back, smirking. “Tell me you can carry a tune, Cal. We’re all hopeless.”

  “I don’t sing,” Cal said it firmly. He could already tell these guys didn’t take no for an answer, but he had no intention of making a fool of himself up on stage. Somebody would have a camera phone, and then he could just imagine the viral video clips: “Prescott Heir Murders Showtunes.”

  That wouldn’t be so easy to disappear in the marshes. He took a taco instead, and let Eliza and Mac chat away, awarding points for style and originality—and, occasionally, tunefulness—as the rest of the town took their turn. It was more entertaining than any big A-list concert, and soon, even Cal was clapping along.

  “Tell me this is a regular thing,” he said when finally there was a break in the performances. “I want to see Eliza up there—even if it is just to play the tambourine,” he added, when she shook her head so violently, her hair spun out.

  “It’s usually once a month,” Jake replied. “Or whenever the girls bug Riley into ‘finding’ the karaoke set.”

  The air quotes made it clear the set went missing a lot.

  “But just wait for the summer JamFest!” Mackenzie exclaimed.

  “Music or canned preserves?” Cal joked, but she just grinned.

  “Both. It started as a jazz festival,” she explained, “but then one year a whole busload of Swedish tourists arrived, expecting to find food, so Franny and Debra whipped up a few batches, and ever since, it kind of spiraled out of control.”

  Eliza leaned in. “A lot of things spiral in Sweetbriar Cove.”

  Cal smiled back at her. “I’m beginning to figure that out.”

  “Anyway,” Mackenzie continued, “the mix just stuck, and now there’s a whole weekend of music, canning contests. Who doesn’t like their Coltrane with a side of lingonberry spread?”

  “I know I do.” Cal sipped his beer. “I’ll be there.”

  “Will you be in town for that?” Eliza asked, and Cal thought he saw a flicker of tension on her face. “You must be getting ready to head back to Boston. You were only staying a couple of weeks.”

  “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?” he joked, but Eliza’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  He realized it was a loaded question. They hadn’t talked about the future, or where this was going. As if he could spend just one night with her. Or two, or three.

  He already knew that would never be enough.

  Cal dropped his voice. “Plans change,” he said, and he took her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. “Even if I do need to go to the city for meetings, I can drive back. Or maybe June will have found me a place by then.”

  “That’s right,” Mackenzie spoke up. “I heard you were looking. Did the Asher place strike your fancy?”

  Cal chuckled. “What did she do, send out a news bulletin after?”

  “Actually, she was live-tweeting the tour,” Mac grinned.

  “That sounds about right. And no,” Cal added, taking a swig of beer. “It didn’t feel like me. I think I would want to be right on the water,” he said, imagining waking up every morning to the blue horizon—and a view of Eliza beside him, if he was lucky. “Your place has a great location,” he said, turning to her. “It’s pretty small, but June said it’s a double lot, right?”

  Eliza nodded. “Grandpa had plans to build on it, but we never got around to it.”

  “Still, it means your mom will get a great price,” Cal continued, reaching for another taco. “June said you had some developers ready to make an offer. They could tear it down and build a real showstopper.”

  There was silence.

  When he looked up, Eliza was staring at him blankly. “What?” he asked.

  “Our house isn’t for sale,” Eliza said slowly.

  “Sure it is,” Cal replied, confused. “June showed me the listing. She pitched it
pretty hard, but I don’t know if I want a big project like that . . .”

  He trailed off, seeing her expression, and suddenly, everything made sense. “You didn’t know,” he said, his heart sinking.

  “No, I didn’t.” Eliza’s jaw clenched.

  Across the table, Mac cleared her throat. She and Jake bobbed to their feet. “We’re just going to get another round,” she said uneasily, and they quickly retreated, leaving Cal and Eliza alone.

  Cal exhaled. “I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.” He squeezed Eliza’s hand. “Maybe she was just waiting for the right time to tell you?”

  “You mean, after you and every realtor on the Cape?” Eliza shot back.

  Cal silently cursed Linda, and June too. He hadn’t realized he was wading into a messy family situation. “I’m sure if you just talk it out . . .”

  “Before or after someone rips down the house?” Eliza asked, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Like you said, someone could build a real showstopper. Never mind the years of memories, or the fact that the house has been in my family as long as I can remember.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cal said again, feeling useless. “I know that house meant a lot to you.”

  “Means a lot to me,” Eliza corrected him, still looking angry. “It’s not gone yet.”

  “I know.” Cal felt like he was navigating a minefield. “It was a bad choice of words.”

  Eliza shook her head. “You know what? Forget it, you wouldn’t understand.”

  There was something dismissive in her tone, but Cal tried to keep his voice even. “Why not?”

  “Because you could buy our house without even thinking twice,” Eliza said icily. “You could tear it down, and put up some fancy mansion, and all you’d have to do is snap your fingers to make it happen.”

  “Well, the permits would take longer than that,” Cal tried to joke, but he could tell the minute the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. He winced. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive,” he added, but the damage was done.

  “Thanks for nothing.” Eliza got to her feet and grabbed her jacket.

  “Wait—” Cal tried to say, but she was already storming towards the door.

  Damn.

  He got up and quickly followed, catching up with her outside. “Eliza, stop.”

  She kept striding down the dark, empty street. He fell into step beside her.

  “Look, I know you’re mad, but this isn’t my fault.” Cal stopped again. Couldn’t he say anything right? “I just mean, this is between you and your mom. You guys will figure it out.”

  “How?” Eliza whirled on him. “I don’t live in your world, where a house is no big deal. You rolled up to Sweetbriar Cove and thought, ‘Gee, maybe I’ll spend a million dollars on a weekend getaway,’ but do you even know what that means? Or have you spent so long in the Prescott bubble that you’ve forgotten what it’s like for the rest of us?”

  “That’s not fair,” Cal replied, fighting to stay calm.

  “Welcome to the real world,” Eliza said, and she started walking again.

  This time, Cal didn’t follow her.

  15

  Eliza walked all the way home, tears stinging in the back of her throat—and anger burning hot in her chest. How could Cal be so oblivious? Acting like it was no big deal that her childhood home was about to get ripped down and cleared away, probably to make room for another multi-million-dollar mega-mansion, for some rich guy like him to visit for a few weekends every summer. Well, not everyone had a trust fund and could go impulse-buy a whole freaking house anytime they chose. And not everyone could waltz around having hundred-dollar lunches, sneering at the help for daring to pay the damn bills with an honest job.

  Eliza swiped angrily at her face. Her blood was running hot and angry, but as she left the lights of the town square behind and strode on, down the dark, familiar streets, her rage slowly faded.

  What was she doing?

  She knew, deep down, that her mom putting the house up for sale, and Sukie and Co.’s bitchy comments, had nothing to do with Cal, but still somehow they all swirled together in a painful mess of insecurity and bitterness inside.

  Everything was changing. First she’d lost her dad, then her beloved job. Now all of this?

  It felt like she’d spent the past year spinning in a strong, cruel wind, and now, just when she was finally getting back to something like normal, it all was blowing away again. But even worse than feeling so untethered was the quiet fear that maybe she was the one screwing everything up. She’d chosen to write that bombshell of an article, just to prove something to herself. She’d chosen to run away and hide here on the Cape, rather than keep grinding to find a new job back in the city. She’d chosen to keep her mom at arm’s length, cutting her off anytime she’d wanted to have a real conversation, and she’d chosen to blow up at Cal back there, rather than have an adult talk and share all the emotions whirling in her chest.

  Sure, things were hard and confusing in her life right now, but she was playing her part to make them worse.

  Sometimes, she could be her own worst enemy.

  By the time she reached home, Eliza was ready for a fight. The lights were on, but when she unlocked the front door, she found the door to her father’s old study open, and her mom inside—sitting in Dad’s old chair by the window, flipping through some of the old photo albums Eliza had set aside.

  Her anger dissolved in a heartbeat. She swallowed. “Hey,” she said softly from the doorway, and her mom’s head snapped up.

  “Oh. Sweetheart. I thought you were staying out tonight.” Linda dabbed at her eyes, and Eliza felt a twist of guilt for intruding on her private moment.

  “No, we cut things short.” Eliza swallowed, and stayed, lingering in the doorway. “Cal told me you put the house on the market.”

  Linda looked away. “I know, I should have talked to you girls first, but June and I were chatting, and she mentioned it was the perfect time to sell.”

  “But do we have to?” Eliza moved closer. “I can pitch in more, especially since I’m staying here. I could get another job, pay real rent—”

  But her mother shook her head. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but it won’t help. The truth is things have been difficult for a while now. The medical bills ate up pretty much everything we had.”

  “I thought there was insurance.” Eliza took a seat beside her.

  “There was,” her mom sighed. “But with co-pays and limits, there was still so much to pay. I’ve got your father’s pension now, but between the upkeep here and the mortgage back in Boston . . . Well, I sat down with our advisor and the budget, and something has to give.”

  Up close, Eliza could see the tired lines on her mother’s face. She’d thought it was just grief she was wrestling with, but it turned out there had been an even heavier burden to carry.

  “I know you and your sister love this place.” Linda squeezed her hand. “I loved it too. I always imagined passing it on to you and your families. But I’ve been trying to make the numbers work, and nothing else makes sense. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “No, don’t be.” Eliza shook her head. “Of course we should sell, if it means you won’t have to worry anymore. I just wish I was able to help out. But my career doesn’t exactly bring in the big bucks,” she added, rueful.

  “You know I’m proud of you,” Linda said with a smile. “You and Paige both. You’re good girls. I’d just like to see you settled with your own families. Safe and secure.”

  Eliza hid a grin. Of course her mother couldn’t help slipping that one in. “We’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll need someone to take care of you.”

  “I can do that just fine on my own,” Eliza reassured her. “Besides, I have you to look out for me, too.”

  “You never know what life has in store.” Linda squeezed her hand tighter. “I thought I’d have another twenty years with your father, and then . . .” She stopped.

  Eliza leaned c
loser and kissed her on the cheek. “So, I guess this means we’ll have to pack up the house, then?” She looked around with a sigh. “At least I got a head start in here.”

  “We won’t have to move out right away,” Linda told her. “I said to make it a condition of the sale, that we stay for the summer.”

  “Our last summer,” Eliza said with a pang. She couldn’t stop things changing, no matter how hard she tried. “We’ll just have to make it count.”

  * * *

  Eliza headed upstairs to bed, but she wasn’t tired at all. She lay on top of the covers in the dark, staring at the ceiling, speckled with the faint glow from decades-old glow-in-the-dark stars. Her dad had stuck them up there one summer when she’d had a nightmare and didn’t want to be left in the dark. And behind the dresser, she knew there would be a scrawl of crayon, twenty years old. There were memories everywhere in this house, but still, it felt like they hadn’t spent enough time.

  There was a sudden tap at the window. Eliza sat up.

  The noise came again, the rattle of a pebble.

  She got up and opened the window, leaning out to see. Another rock came up out of the darkness, and Eliza had to duck out of the way. “Hey!” she yelped.

  “Damn. Sorry!” a loud stage-whisper came. Eliza squinted, and there he was, standing down below on the back lawn.

  “Cal?” She gulped. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying not to wake your mom,” he call-whispered up. Eliza exhaled.

  “Look, it’s late,” she said, still feeling tangled up in the past. “Can we do this tomorrow?”

  “My father taught me to never go to bed angry,” Cal insisted, stepping closer. “Let’s just talk a moment. I brought brownies,” he added.

  Eliza paused. She didn’t feel ready to face him again after blowing up like that, but he’d come. Even after she’d lashed out at him, he’d shown up to talk it out. “Wait right there.”

  She ducked back inside and pulled on a sweatshirt, then tiptoed downstairs. Cal was waiting on the front porch, and when she felt the chilly breeze, she beckoned him inside.

  “Shh,” she whispered, leading him quietly upstairs to her bedroom. She closed the door gently behind them. Cal looked around.