Isle of Hope

by Julie Lessman

  Tess squeezed her waist. “Good. I’ve been praying for you.” A shadow passed over her eyes as her smile dimmed, reminding Lacey how upset Tess had been over her father’s callous remarks. Even now, her lips thinned into the same stubborn look as her son when he was ticked about something, indicating Tess’s anger at Ben Carmichael had yet to wane. “And for that mule of a father of yours to wake up.”

  “Hey!” Lacey’s voice came out as a high-pitched shriek, the feel of cold water dribbling down her back causing her to jump a mile. She spun halfway on the bench to see Jack standing behind her, wringing his sopping polo over her head with a flash of teeth that provoked laughter around the table.

  “So … how’s it feel, Carmichael? Because every single drop belongs to you.”

  Nicki squealed across the table, attempting to fend Matt off after he tugged her onto his wet lap, their tussle making everyone laugh while egging Matt on. Grinning, Lacey scooted away when Jack sat down, wedging his dripping body between his mother and her. He spiked fingers through his wet hair while a puddle of water pooled on the bench, forcing both Tess and Lacey to move further away.

  With a twist of his shirt, he flicked the excess water at Lacey. “Hey, since the men gave their lives for the cause, it’s only fair the women who took aim serve them BBQ, right, Matt? And I’ll even buy for the table.” Jack reached in his jeans pocket and tossed a wad of smashed paper tokens down in a soggy splat.

  “Hear, hear,” Matt said with a pound of his fist on the table. “We almost drowned, so it’s the least you girls can do. And since Jack talked me into volunteering for the dunking booth, I’ll have double everything.”

  Lacey chuckled as she hopped up from the table, snatching the stash of pre-paid tickets good for food, booths, or rides. She pinched them by the corner till they dangled limp from her hand. “Gee, you’d think a doctor’d be smart enough to empty his pockets before he goes for a swim.” She snapped her fingers in front of Jack’s nose. “Ante up, Dr. Romeo, I’m starved, so I doubt this’ll be enough. Worked up quite an appetite vindicating every nurse at Memorial.”

  Jack grinned, hands braced behind his neck to reveal well-defined muscles. “What’s the matter, Mike?” he asked with a leisurely drawl. “Jealous?”

  “Ha—dream on, Doc.” Lacey held her palm out, chin nudging up to deflect the heat broiling her cheeks. “Come on, O’Bryen, buck up—I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah, Jack.” Cat and Shannon nudged in on the bench next to their mom while Davey and Spence sat across the table with Debbie to share a huge cotton candy. “Shan and I had a late meeting at school, so we didn’t have lunch.”

  Chuckling, Jack turned his pockets inside out, tossing a wet tissue onto the table. “Sorry, ladies, clean out except for a very used Kleenex.”

  “Here, sweetheart.” Tess rifled in her purse, calmly removing five twenties from Jack’s wallet before handing it back to her son. “Donate whatever’s left, all right? Jack’s loaded, aren’t you, darling?”

  “Uh, thanks, Mom, but not anymore, apparently,” he said with a dry smile. He glanced up at Lacey with a lazy grin that flash-froze her pulse when it fluttered her stomach. He winked. “Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ brains and brawn.”

  “Thanks, T-Tess,” Lacey stuttered, whirling around to escape Jack’s teasing gaze, blatant quivers of attraction sending shock waves through her body. Her throat parched as dry as the kids’ cotton candy. What on earth is wrong with me? This was Jack, for heaven’s sake—an ex-boyfriend, yes, but one with whom she’d managed to forge a very comfortable friendship. So where were these annoying tingles coming from? Anxious to dodge unwanted attraction, Lacey ambled over to Mamaw. “How ’bout I buy back one of your famous peach crumble pies for the table after I fix you and your friends a plate? Jack’s buying.”

  “Why, that would be lovely, dear,” Mamaw said with a twinkle in her eye, the elfin smile on her lips an indication she was enjoying the tease at Jack’s expense. She dug her Purell from her purse to hand it to Lacey. “Here, dear, dab a little on before you handle any food, all right? And with so many at our table, perhaps two pies would be better if Jack doesn’t mind.”

  “Sure, why not?” Jack said, tone droll. “And take orders from the next table while you’re at it, Lace, why don’t you?”

  “Oooo no, let me do it …” Cat popped up with Shannon to give Lacey a hand, nabbing Jack’s wallet while Shannon diverted him with a massage of his shoulders. She tossed it to Lacey before he could stop her. “Here, Lace—now we can check out the silent-auction table, too.”

  “Great idea,” Lacey said, bobbling the wallet. “There are a couple of iPads over there with our names on them, right, Nick?”

  “Oh, you bet.” Chuckling, Nicki slung an arm over Lacey’s shoulder.

  “Hey,” Matt said, snitching a piece of the kids’ cotton candy, “maybe the kids should go along to bid on some toys.”

  “Gosh, really? Thanks Mr. Jack!” Debbie scrambled off the bench, the cotton candy all but forgotten as she tugged on Spence’s arm. “Come on, guys, I saw lots of cool stuff.”

  “Thanks a lot, Goof Ball,” Jack said, wadding the soggy Kleenex before pelting it at his cousin.

  Grateful for the diversion, Lacey slacked a hip in a smart aleck pose, shooting Jack a cocky smile. “You know, Jack, I’m always shocked at just how generous you are with your money—especially given all the splashes you already took for the cause.”

  Arms folded on the table, Jack glanced up with a half-lidded smile that had no right to loop her stomach like it did. “Yeah, real shocking, Mike. Just wait till you see how generous I am with payback once I get you back on the dock.”

  Heat zinged up her face like a rash gone awry, the memory of their last time on the dock taking her mind in a totally different direction. He was talking dunks in the water, she was certain, but all that came to mind was cuddling on his lap while he stroked and kissed her hair.

  Real shocking? That her romantic feelings for Jack O’Bryen had been rekindled in the span of single night? God help her, nothing could shock her more.

  “Uh, excuse me, Lacey?”

  “Yes?” She spun around and froze.

  That is … until now.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ben Carmichael stood there, as paralyzed as his daughter, questioning his sanity in even coming here tonight. But Lacey hadn’t returned one of his calls, and the guilt was eating him alive. He’d barely slept a wink since that night, at least not well, and wouldn’t until he could finally apologize and get on with his life. A slow exhale seeped from his lips as he stared at a sea of faces, gaze locking on only one—that of his daughter’s, which appeared as deprived of blood right now as his own. A knot of pride obstructed his air and he swallowed hard to clear it away, hands buried deep in the pockets of his Dockers as he sucked in a deep swallow of humility. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” he asked quietly, quite certain the regret in his tone was no match for the hurt he had caused.

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk,” she snapped, shoulders squaring in that defensive posture she’d had when she’d been a teenager, jaw thrust and mouth compressed.

  His temper chafed, itching to flare like always when Lacey challenged him with her rebellious air. Gaze flicking around the table, it converged with Tess’s for the briefest of moments before she quickly looked away, clearly telling him he was on his own. Fine. With a lift of his jaw, he stared Lacey down, determined to do what he came here to do. “We need to talk—alone.”

  He could see a storm brewing in her eyes, gaze thin and patience even thinner, the tic in her cheek twittering as hard as his own. “I’m busy right now,” she bit out, and it took everything in him not to turn on his heel and run like he always had before.

  “Is h-he a bad man?” A little girl’s voice wavered with fear.

  “No, darling.” Mamaw rose from her chair, smile soft as she patted the girl’s shoulder, her gaze kind as it connected with Ben’s. “Just a
very unhappy one.” She made her way to where Lacey stood at the end of the table with a pool of tears in her eyes. “Go,” her grandmother said quietly, slipping an arm around her granddaughter’s waist, barely loud enough for him to hear. “This is the moment you’ve been praying for.”

  Lacey didn’t move. Her body quivered as imperceptibly as marsh grasses in a moonless evening while she stared, a single tear slowly trailing her cheek.

  “Go,” Mamaw said again.

  This time Lacey looked at her, her lip trembling as much as his gut. “For you, and only you.”

  “No, darling girl.” The old woman hugged his daughter, pulling back to give a nod to the sky. “For Him, and only Him.”

  Offering a jerky nod, Lacey handed a wallet to Nicki. “Get started, Nick. I won’t be long.” Face set, she rounded the table and brushed past him, stalking down the hill to an empty picnic table by the lake.

  He followed silently, figuring he deserved all the disdain she wanted to dish out. He had dealt a mortal blow, one that Karen begged him never to divulge, then added insult to injury by implying she wasn’t his daughter. He knew better. Sure, Karen dated a few others in the two months they’d broken up—she made sure he knew about that—but he was the one she’d been crazy about. The one she’d given her all to when he’d pressured her without mercy. And he had—relentlessly. But then he had the gall to blame her when she came up pregnant, accusing her of sleeping with other guys. His gut twisted. What a royal jerk he’d been. When Lacey had come along, she’d favored him right out the gate, but he’d been too selfish to acknowledge it, making Karen pay for his mistake. Guilt churned in his gut. She’d deserved better. A heaviness settled as he trailed Lacey down the hill.

  And so did her daughter.

  She spun around when she reached a lone picnic table on the edge of the lake, eyes blazing in the moonlight. “So … what do you want, Dad—or should I even call you that?”

  He winced. “I should have never said that, Lacey—I was wrong.”

  “And not for the first time—you treated Mom like garbage.”

  “I know,” he whispered, gaze dropping to the grass where he fixated on an apple core. Another piece of garbage, just like him.

  Rotten. Tainted. Corrupt.

  “Why?”

  His eyes shuttered closed, Karen’s face haunting him like she did so often in his dreams. “Because I was a selfish, immature rich kid,” he said quietly, realizing for the first time just how wrong he had been. “A cocky punk who was angry that his mistakes caught up with him.”

  Her chin lashed up in defiance, but trembling all the same. “So it was my fault, then.”

  “Mine—not yours,” he emphasized, head bent to pierce her gaze with his own. “I wasn’t ready for a baby, Lacey, and I took it out on you and your mom, and I’m sorry. In fact, there’s no way I can tell you how sorry I am.” He expelled a shaky sigh. “But I’d like to try all the same,” he whispered, not blaming her one bit if she told him to go jump in the lake. But he had to try. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.

  She folded her arms, the action more defensive than confrontational. “How?”

  He slipped his hand in his pocket to pull out the latest iPhone he bought to replace the one he figured she lost when she jumped off his boat. He held it out, Adam’s apple bobbing uncomfortably in his throat. “I figured you’d need a new phone.”

  Her brows lifted. “A phone? You think a phone can make up for all you did?”

  “No!” His palm shot up. “No, no I don’t.” He laid the phone on the picnic table, then slipped his hands back in his pockets as he offered an awkward shrug. “But it’s a start, pathetic as it may be.”

  Lips pursed, she stared at him like he was the devil incarnate. And then—ever so slowly—the corners of her mouth edged up so minimally, he thought he might have imagined it in the shadows. “Pathetic is right,” she said softly, a gleam of moisture glimmering in her eyes. “The least you could have come up with is the latest Mac.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until it leaked out in one arduous exhale, his chest almost aching from relief. Fighting the moisture that burned at the back of his eyes, he picked the iPhone up and held it out. “I’d give anything to take back what I said that night, Lacey,” he whispered, muscles convulsing painfully in his throat, “and all that I did to you and your mom.”

  Answering tears glistened in her eyes as she took the iPhone from his hand. “Anything?” Moonlight glowed in her face like hope.

  His gaze locked with hers, features guarded except for the barest trace of a smile. “Almost,” he said, nodding behind her to where dark waters lapped against the rocky shore. “Except jump in the lake.”

  The corners of her mouth flickered just barely, as if a smile were battling to break free. “Good.” She strode past him to stop two feet beyond, forcing him to turn.

  Her chin snapped back up, but it couldn’t daunt the twinkle in her eyes. “I’ll bring dinner once a week, either scratch at your house or fast food on the boat—your choice.” Her tone was sharp, no-nonsense, and completely matter-of-fact, reminding him so much of himself that a near smile nudged at his lips.

  He bowed his head, as if thinking it over, finally responding in a tone that matched hers to a dare. “The house, Tuesdays, six o’clock. We both know the boat’s too risky.”

  A bona fide grin slid across her beautiful face. “Deal. And just for the record?” She turned to leave, but not before tossing a crooked smile over her shoulder. “The way I cook? You haven’t seen risky.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “Oh, Debbie—no!” Hands over her eyes, Lacey peeked through two fingers, biting the edge of her lip while Debbie “Wild Child” Holbrook raced towards the Slip ‘N Slide in Mamaw’s backyard. “Slide—now!” Lacey said under her breath, right before the little girl’s feet flew up in the air, landing her flat on her back in the first few steps.

  “Uh-oh … a little more slip than slide that time,” Nicki said, shading her eyes as she watched Spence and Davey help Debbie up, the boys’ laughter merging with Debbie’s giggles.

  “Debbie? Are you okay?” Lacey held her breath, watching with Nicki and Mamaw.

  The little dickens glanced over, a grin splitting her face. “Wow, waaaaaaaaaay cool, Miss Lacey, can I do it again?”

  Lacey’s smile edged to the right. “Uh … sure … but we’ll need a little more slide than slip next time, sweetie-pie, so I don’t pass out.”

  Shaking her head, Lacey stretched back on her chaise in her tank top and shorts, soaking up all the sun she could before the nip of fall chased their tanning days away. Closing her eyes, she emitted a contented sigh. “Thanks for letting me bring Debbie over to play with the boys, Mamaw. She had so much fun running around with Spence and Davey at the fundraiser, that she’s been hounding me ever since to see them again.”

  “She’s a precious child,” Mamaw said, her tone wistful as she watched the children play. “Reminds me of both of you when you were small, squealing and sliding and sunbathing for hours on end.”

  A bittersweet sense of melancholy shadowed Lacey’s mood as she stared into the backyard, now resplendent with a freshly painted gazebo and lush gardens for upcoming Nicki’s wedding. “Those were some of the happiest days of my life,” she said, voice wistful, “especially when I could come over here when Mom and Daddy weren’t getting along.” Her tone went dry. “Which was most of the time.”

  Nicki cocked her head, eyes narrowed in thought. “You know, Lace, you’ve always said that, but after Uncle Ben showed up at the fundraiser last week, I’ve been wondering if maybe some of your frustration wasn’t just from typical teenage/parent head-butting.” She glanced over at Lacey, nose in a scrunch. “Do you think it’s possible some of the bad blood between you and your dad was more how it seemed at the time than it actually was?”

  “You were a mistake … a kid I wasn’t even sure was mine.”

  Her father’s
words pierced all over again, bringing a sudden sheen of tears to her eyes. “I don’t think so, Nick, not after what he said to me that night on the boat.”

  “What exactly did he say?” she probed gently, silent questions lingering in the air of things both she and Mamaw had obviously been waiting to ask.

  Lacey sucked in a harsh breath and expelled it as thoroughly as if it were the pain she’d carried all of these years. “That I was a mistake,” she said quietly, eyelids sagging closed at the weight of the revelation. “That Mom tricked him into marriage by getting pregnant with a kid he wasn’t even sure was his.”

  She heard Nicki’s soft gasp, and lids lifting, her gaze locked with Mamaw’s, the glaze in her grandmother’s eyes matching hers. “He never wanted me,” Lacey whispered, speaking the words out loud for the first time since the night she’d cried in Jack’s arms, the very utterance branding her soul. “Which means I’m the one who ruined his life—and Mom’s.”

  Mamaw grunted, the sound so out of character that Lacey blinked. “Oh, malarkey! You didn’t ruin his life, darling,” she said with a twist of a smile, “you saved it.” Laying her knitting aside, she leaned forward, hands folded neatly in her lap. “Your father was nothing more than a spoiled rich boy who dug himself into a hole deep enough to bury a donkey. Trust me—your grandfather and I were not happy when he started pursuing Karen, who, I might add, turned him down repeatedly until he wore her down.”A frail sigh drifted from her lips while her gaze trailed into a distant stare. “She fell harder for him than any boy she’d ever dated, and why not? He was handsome, wealthy, and lousy with Irish charm.” One side of her lip cocked as her eyes reconnected with Lacey’s. “Hard to believe right now, I know, but he was, although your grandfather preferred the term ‘blarney,’ among other less flattering words.”

  Lacey grinned outright, memories of her crusty and outspoken Grandpa Phillips coming to mind.

  The humor in Mamaw’s face faded as her smile did the same. “I remember the day Karen told me your father first mentioned marriage. They’d been dating a year, and she was over the moon that he promised to propose, but ‘after medical school,’ he said, although I know she was praying for sooner. I had a suspicion he just told her that to pressure her into intimacies. And he was an outrageous flirt as well, so I always wondered if he didn’t have other girls in the wings, you know? But your mother was a good Christian girl, Lacey—active in choir and youth group—so she stood her ground for a long time, I know. But like I said—your father was used to getting his way, and he did.” Her mouth compressed into a thin smile. “He played, got caught, and then blamed you and your mother for the rest of his life, never taking responsibility for his actions.” The edge of her lip quirked, making her look like a silver-haired pixie with a twinkle in her eyes. “Until your grandfather paid a visit to his stepfather, Dr. Randall Carmichael.”