Summer on Firefly Lake

by Jen Gilroy

  “Not a word.” Gabrielle’s eyes were troubled. “I only wish…”

  Like Mia would’ve wished, if she hadn’t stopped wishing a long time ago, even before Jay left. She moved away from Gabrielle with an effort. She’d gotten what she wanted. Independence and a casual, no-strings relationship, which had put what she’d had with Jay firmly in the past.

  Except, it had cost her a friend and showed her what she really wanted but had lost forever.

  Chapter Twenty

  I hope you know what you’re doing.” Gabrielle sat on the bottom porch step as Nick put the suitcase he’d borrowed from her into the trunk of his Lexus. The shrubs in the flower beds below the porch were wet with dew, and the sun nudged the eastern sky to envelop Harbor House in a rosy glow.

  “Sure I do.” Nick opened the driver’s door, dragged off his suit jacket, and hung it on the hook behind the seat.

  “I’m your mother.” And it was time she started acting like it again. “Cancer took away my hair, my energy, and a lot of other things, but it didn’t take away how I always know when you’re lying to me.”

  Nick left the car door open and moved toward her. “When did I ever lie to you?” His smile was too quick.

  Gabrielle patted the step beside her. “Maybe you’re lying to yourself, then.”

  Nick rested an arm on the porch railing but didn’t sit. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Really?” Gabrielle stood and moved up two steps so she faced him eye to eye and nose to nose. The wariness in his expression gave her hope she’d touched a nerve and he’d think about what she said. “I’m not senile either, even if you wanted to make me old before my time by stuffing me into a retirement bungalow.”

  “We got beyond all that.” His smile slipped. “I’m going back to New York because it’s after Labor Day and that was always the plan.”

  “Plans can change if you want them to.” Gabrielle touched Nick’s jaw with the small scar from the accident the years had made part of his face. “I love you and I want you to be happy.”

  “I love you too, Mom.” His expression softened. “And I am happy. Now you’ve got a good guy like Ward in your life, I’m even happier.”

  “I want you to be happy for yourself, not on my account.” Even though she didn’t quite trust the happiness she’d found with Ward yet so they were taking things slow.

  “You worry too much.”

  “I’m your mom, so it comes with the job.” Gabrielle’s throat tightened. “Mia left something for you. She asked me to give it to you before you headed out.” She picked up the cardboard mailing tube from one of the porch chairs.

  “What’s this?” Nick’s fingers closed around the roll, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

  “I don’t know,” she said, although she had a good idea. “Mia said was it was something she found in the closet in your old room and forgot to give to you.”

  “I better hit the road.” Nick’s eyes darkened from blue to pewter as they’d done since childhood when he was upset about something. “I have a late afternoon meeting with the team. It’s a big case. If I win, it’ll make my career.” The lines between his nose and mouth deepened, and in the early morning light, his eyes were purple shadowed.

  “Drive safe.” Gabrielle followed him to the car. “Call me when you get there.”

  “I always do.” Nick hugged her. “Why don’t you and Ward fly out and spend a weekend with me in New York?”

  “I’d like that.” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

  He got into the car. “Call me if you need anything, and don’t forget Cat and Amy will be here again soon.”

  “I won’t.” But it would be yet another brief visit, and her daughter had insisted on staying at a local bed and breakfast instead of Harbor House so they wouldn’t be a bother. As if her child and grandchild could ever be anything but a blessing.

  Nick waved, and the engine roared into life. The premium car told the world he was a success. Except, although the car was safer, Gabrielle sometimes preferred the old motorcycle.

  “Bye,” she whispered.

  With another wave, Nick turned out onto the road and the engine sound died away to leave silence in its wake.

  Gabrielle walked back to the house. She had her life to live. Her hand closed around her phone in her sweater pocket. Ward had promised he’d call later today when he got to Beijing. A world away, he’d think of her and dream of her.

  “Did Nick just leave?” Luc jogged around the side of the house in black sweats and a Winnipeg Jets hockey T-shirt.

  “Yes.” She tried to smile.

  “Give me twenty minutes to shower and change and I’ll take you to breakfast at the diner. It’s been too many years since I’ve had Liz Carmichael’s buttermilk biscuits.” He stopped at Gabrielle’s side and patted her shoulder. “I’d enjoy your company.”

  “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but a man like you would never be short of company.”

  He grinned. “Maybe, but you’re the company I choose. Besides, Ward and Nick asked me to keep an eye on you, so you might say I’m only doing my job.”

  “They did, did they?” Gabrielle took one last look at the empty street before she pulled open the screen door and scooped Pixie into her arms. “We’ve got to have faith,” she murmured to the dog, who wiggled in her grasp. “Nick has to come back. He and Mia were meant to be together.”

  Pixie licked her face.

  Gabrielle laughed, and then the laugh turned into a sigh. Because things were meant to be didn’t mean they would. She had to face facts and count her blessings. She’d done all she could. The changes she wanted Nick to make had to come from him, because he wanted them, too.

  Almost four weeks later, Nick pushed his chair away from the desk and took a folder from the filing cabinet beside it. Lights gleamed out of the darkness, and New York traffic hummed from the street twenty floors below.

  Beyond the pool of light from the desk lamp, the office was dark. Even the cleaners had gone home long ago. He turned back to the computer then glanced at the time on the screen and grabbed his phone. He’d intended to call Sean tonight but, as usual, he’d lost track of time. He scrolled to the number, and it rang in the house beside Firefly Lake. A house full of love, laughter, and everything that made a house a home.

  “Nick?” Sean’s voice was thick with sleep. “Why are you calling at this time of night? You aren’t still at the office, are you?”

  “I’m working on a case.” Nick checked the time again. It was only ten thirty. “Are you keeping farmer’s hours these days?”

  “It’s having a baby. Charlie and I have to sleep when we can.” Sean murmured something. “Hang on a minute.”

  Nick moved a stack of files to find the picture included with the invitation to Lexie’s baptism. Dressed head to toe in pink, the kid gave the camera a gummy smile. Charlie’s smile. Mia’s, too. His chest ached.

  He turned back to the computer screen and, with an effort, clicked open the document with the police report and pictures of his socialite client with the black eye inflicted by her state senator husband. Soon to be her ex-husband and behind bars, if Nick got what he wanted.

  “I’m back.” Sean came on the phone again. “Are you okay?”

  “Great, never better.” Nick was doing what he wanted, and he’d win this case. Why wouldn’t he be okay? “The firm’s got a bunch of extra tickets for the hockey game on Saturday night. You want to come and stay with me? It’s the Rangers against Vancouver.”

  “This weekend?” Sean hesitated. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t. Lexie’s still so little I don’t want to leave Charlie alone overnight.”

  More like Sean didn’t want to leave Charlie period. Or the baby. As if Lexie might do something he’d miss if he was away for more than a few hours.

  “Can’t Mia and the girls stay with her?” Nick stared at the stars and crescent moon that peeked out from behind the high-rise across the street.

  “Mia’s b
usy with school.” Sean’s voice cooled. “And stuff.”

  Nick had given up his right to know what that “stuff” was. “Mia’s okay, isn’t she?” He missed her friendship, apart from every other way.

  “She’s great. Everyone at the school loves her, and she’s settled into Firefly Lake like she’s a Vermonter born and bred.”

  “Wonderful.” Nick’s throat constricted. Why did Sean have to sound so smug? “Maybe we can catch a game some other time. I’m pretty busy.” The client had paid the firm a shedload of money for him to stay busy.

  “Really busy, or busy on purpose?”

  Sean’s words hit Nick in the pit of his stomach and ricocheted up his windpipe. “I’ve got a big case. It’s high profile.”

  “After this big case, it’ll be another one and then another.” Sean sounded so reasonable Nick wanted to punch something. Or someone. “You ever get tired of it?”

  So tired by the time he got to the end of the week he’d go to the gym, drag himself home, order takeout, and fall into bed. Alone and aching for Mia. “This client needs my help.”

  “They all need your help, but I think you might need help, too.”

  “What’s with you? Has Charlie turned you into some sensitive new-age guy all of a sudden?”

  Sean’s laugh grated like sandpaper on Nick’s ears. “Nope. I’m still the same guy I always was, only a happier one. Say, when you come for Lexie’s baptism, you should stay a few days longer. You could have more time with your mom, and it’d give me a chance to kick your sorry ass at pool.”

  Nick pulled at his shirt collar. “Mom’s fine. Having Luc as a housemate is great for her. Besides, Ward will be back by then.”

  “You’re still coming to Lexie’s baptism, aren’t you?” Sean’s voice roughened.

  “Of course. I’m flying to Burlington on the Friday afternoon.” Even though it meant he’d have to stand at the front of St. James Episcopal with Mia on the Sunday morning, the sight of her a fresh reminder of what he’d forced himself to let go.

  “You’re all set to pick up Kylie after school?”

  “Kylie?” Nick dug under the stack of papers on his desk for the cream-colored invitation.

  “Charlie emailed and texted you. Mia’s got it all organized with Kylie’s foster family and her social worker.” There was more than a hint of frustration in Sean’s voice. “If you get Kylie from her foster family’s place after school on Friday, she can spend the weekend in Firefly Lake. Remember?”

  Nick stopped looking for the invitation. “Of course. Sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.” If he focused on work, he didn’t have to think about the mess he’d made of the rest of his life.

  “Kylie can’t wait to see you. She’s super excited about the weekend and Lexie’s baptism. Hey, why don’t you take Kylie and her foster family to the hockey game? You said the firm has a bunch of tickets and, with what you must bill, you could cover the tab for their flights and a hotel for the night. I bet Kylie would love to go.”

  Yeah, she would. And he’d like to take her. Buy her a team sweatshirt if she wanted one and eat hot dogs, drink soda, and hang out together. He glanced at Lexie’s picture again and then, almost hidden behind his computer monitor, the second picture behind it. The one of him and Kylie on the beach framed by the twigs she’d glued together and all those purple feathers.

  “It’s short notice. Kylie’s probably busy.”

  “Want to bet? Not for you she wouldn’t be. Even if the whole family can’t go, I’m sure her foster mom or dad would take her.” Sean paused as a baby cried in the background. “I have to go. Lexie’s fussing.”

  And Nick was left with the dial tone in his ear, the whir of the heating in his quiet office, and a court date in the morning that could make his career again and give him back his professional pride and the self-respect Isobel had taken away that night on the conference room table with the affair that, it turned out, everyone had known about but him.

  He grabbed a Snickers bar from the drawer, tore off the wrapper, and inhaled the scent of chocolate and peanuts. A smell that took him back to when he sat with his dad in a boat on Firefly Lake with Snickers and soda stashed in a battered cooler. They’d spent hours out there with their fishing rods. A time when they’d talked about sports, the weirdness of girls, and motorcycles.

  The motorcycle posters they’d collected together, which had papered the walls of Nick’s bedroom. The posters he’d never been able to throw away but had forgotten about until Mia found them and asked his mom to give them to him. The posters he’d shoved in a closet in his apartment behind his skis and empty suitcases.

  He could win this case. He would win this case, but maybe there were more important things in life than winning. He dropped the half-eaten candy bar and found his cell again to scroll to the number he’d memorized as soon as Kylie had given it to him.

  She could always say no. Or she could say yes and take him a step closer to being the guy Mia talked about. The one he used to be.

  Nick stopped. It was too late to call Kylie tonight. Even if she didn’t think so, her foster mom sure would. He drummed his fingers on the desk.

  What else had Mia said? The guy she remembered hadn’t been afraid to take a risk. He continued scrolling through his contacts and found the number his mom had emailed him. The number he’d never called.

  It was too late to call Kylie, but it was still early in Vegas.

  He propped the picture of Kylie and him in front of his computer keyboard. Her smile warmed him and gave him unexpected courage. Unlike him, she’d never known her dad. He wasn’t ready to forgive and forget, but if he wanted to move on, maybe he at least needed to listen to what Brian McGuire had to say.

  “You must have known earlier it was your week to bring a snack for circle time.” Mia stuffed the songbook for the third graders into her portfolio with one hand and an apple into Emma’s lunch box with the other. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I forgot.” Emma leaned against the kitchen counter and lifted one leg in a graceful arc. “You can defrost cupcakes or something. Like you always do.”

  “Did.” Mia handed Naomi her lunch and flute case. “I have a job outside the home. I don’t have as much time to bake. I’ll buy cupcakes at the bakery on the way to school.”

  “Mom.” Emma’s voice rose. “I don’t want bakery cupcakes. I want your cupcakes. I already told my teacher and my whole class what an awesome cook you are.”

  Mia wiped toast crumbs off the counter and counted to five. She loved her girls, but she also loved her job, and there was no way she could produce twenty iced cupcakes in the ten minutes before she had to be in the car. “There’s a loaf of banana bread in the freezer.”

  “Banana bread has fruit in it.” Emma dropped her foot to the floor with a thud.

  “Course it does,” Naomi said. “Why else would it be called banana bread? Give Mom a break.”

  “You’re mean.” Emma opened the freezer and slid out the loaf Mia indicated.

  “And you’re a whiny baby,” Naomi countered.

  “Mommy.” Emma’s voice went up another octave.

  “Girls, please.” Mia found her car keys and checked to make sure she’d tucked the card for Naomi’s after-school dentist appointment in her purse. “We have to leave or we’ll be late and—”

  “Nick’s on TV.” Emma slammed the freezer shut and pointed through the doorway at the television in the living room.

  “What?” Mia whirled around, the appointment card forgotten. She’d trained herself to not think about Nick, at least not during the day. Who or what she thought about at night alone in bed was another matter.

  “It’s him all right,” Naomi said. “Shush, listen.”

  Mia moved into the living room on autopilot. Nick stood outside a brick building with pillars, and he was flanked by reporters with microphones. His hair was windblown, and he wore a dark suit and tie. She sat on the nearest chair to listen.

  “I’m confident
the jury will reach the right decision.” There was a steely glint in his eyes, along with warmth, passion, and a conviction justice would prevail.

  Mia gripped her purse. In spite of everything, she still loved him. The camera panned the nearby crowd, some of whom waved placards.

  “Violence isn’t the solution, it’s the problem.” Emma sounded out the words. “There’s no excuse for domestic abuse. What’s that mean?”

  “It means a bad man hurt his wife, and Nick’s helping her.” Naomi glanced at Mia.

  “Nick helped me when I almost got drowned,” Emma said.

  “Yes, he did.” Mia’s throat clogged.

  Nick helped people and causes he cared about. He’d tried to save his friends when the truck hit the water all those years ago. He looked out for his mom and his sisters, and he’d looked out for the girls and her.

  “And he helped Kylie and her mom,” Emma added.

  Naomi flicked off the TV and touched Mia’s shoulder. “We have to go or I’ll miss the bus.”

  Her eyes burned as Mia moved into the hall, grabbed her coat from the hook, and checked that the girls had lunches, school bags, and musical instruments as if by rote. “Put the banana bread in a plastic container,” she told Emma. “The one with the blue lid in the cupboard over the sink.”

  “Mom?” Naomi took a sweater from the newel post as Emma darted to the kitchen. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice cracked. A stranger’s voice.

  Naomi slung her backpack over one shoulder. “Is it Nick?”

  Her daughter was almost a woman, too old to be fobbed off with comforting lies or feeble excuses.

  “I miss him.” Mia missed him so much her heart ached with it and maybe always would.

  “Even though you never said so, I knew things weren’t great between you and Dad.” Naomi’s brown eyes were older than her years. “When I saw how he was with Tiffany in the summer, and then how he threatened to take Emma and me away from you, I guess I finally understood.”