The Pirate's Legacy

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The Pirate's Legacy Page 8

by Sarita Leone


  The day had had so many ups and downs she was mentally exhausted. Time for a celebration. She dug the folded bill out. Dropping the wallet into her bag, she calculated how much it would cost to get everyone their own order of onion rings. A feast by the fire pit, certain to lift spirits and bring smiles. She had some change in the bottom of her bag; surely it would be enough to cover five orders of rings.

  Chloe headed for the end of the line waiting at the counter. She had one hand in her bag, her fingertips searching for coins, and her gaze on the chalkboard that listed the food prices. Fortunately, the price of onions held steady. She closed a fist around the coins in the corner of her bag, then pulled her hand out.

  “Oof!”

  The solid wall of spicy-scented muscle she collided with sent the air from her lungs and, embarrassingly, the change from her hand. It scattered at her feet as she looked up into the face of the man she’d just run smack-dab into.

  “Oh!” Her gaze met familiar sultry eyes. She blinked. “It’s you!”

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry to nearly run you down this way.” Kyle smoothed a hand across her shoulder, sending a ripple of something hot and electric along her nerve endings. “Are you okay?”

  Okay was hardly the word for the heat pooling inside her but she nodded. “Fine, thanks.”

  “Good. I don’t think either of us was paying attention to where we were going.” He smiled at a little girl who handed him the change that had flown from Chloe’s hand. “Thank you, honey. Here, why don’t you keep this? Maybe your mom will say yes to an ice cream cone?”

  He shot a smile at the woman who accompanied the child. “I’m a doctor; it’s a hot night, so ice cream could be a nice way to cool off. Here, I think this should cover a cone for you, too.”

  He pressed two singles into the child’s hand, tugged on one curly ponytail, and raised a questioning brow. “Sound good?”

  The woman looked ready to kiss him, but she glanced at Chloe, then the now-jumping-for-joy child. “Thank you…Doctor.”

  Chloe looked around. There didn’t seem to be a man with the two. There was a definite similarity in facial features, so she figured they must be mother and daughter. A fast peek at the twenty-something’s hand showed no wedding ring. Other rings, and a ton of bangle bracelets, but no gold band.

  She smiled. Leaned close to the child and said, “Doctor Dreamy—that’s what he’s called. Enjoy your ice cream, ladies!”

  Chapter 15

  They walked around the side of the house and into the back yard without anyone noticing and stood in the shadows for a minute, listening to the quartet around the fire. Reva made the harmonica sound like an angel’s song. Gabby strummed a guitar. In his spare time, Ted had been giving her lessons. They were paying off. She followed his lead smoothly, amplifying the notes and giving dimension to the tune. Julia’s fingers tapped a conga drum held between her knees. The rhythm was steady, like a heartbeat, with an occasional five-finger tapping spin to jazz it up.

  “Minute by minute by minute, I’ll be holding on…”

  They weren’t the Doobie Brothers but there was heart to the song. Reva, with the harmonica to her lips, was the only one who didn’t sing. The others harmonized beautifully.

  When the last notes faded and the fireside group looked up, Chloe tipped her head to Kyle.

  “Come on, meet the crew.” She led, holding the white food bags away from her stomach. She’d driven her bike, and he’d brought the food in his car. It was still hot, and the grease from the onion rings seeped through the white paper. “They’re not the Partridge Family, but I love ’em anyway.”

  The Partridge Family was still on her mind after the day’s events. She wondered how Jackie was doing, but forced herself to push the thought aside.

  Concentrate on the moment.

  “Hey, hey, look who’s here.” Uncle Ted propped his guitar against the side of the wooden folding chair he occupied. He stood, holding out a hand. “And I see you’ve brought a friend.”

  “Uncle Ted, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is my uncle.”

  The men shook hands.

  “And these pretty ladies are my friends. You already know Julia. This is Reva and Gabby; this is my friend Kyle. Remember, I told you guys about him?”

  Reva smiled. “You’re the doctor who saved a little boy, aren’t you?”

  He gave a modest shrug. “I’m the guy who was in the right place at the right time, that’s all. Hey, you sounded great. I love music, especially when it’s from the heart, the way yours is. Mind if I sit in?”

  “Of course we don’t mind.” Gabby pointed to a wooden glider built for two. “Have a seat.”

  “We come bearing food, courtesy of the kind man here.” Chloe handed each person a bag. They were identical; onion rings and grilled ear of corn in its husk, with an apple turnover for dessert. “We, ah…”

  She looked over at him and shook her head. When he grinned, she smiled back.

  He held two bags. One he handed to Reva. The other he placed on the table beside Gabby’s chair. She was busy putting her guitar back in its case but smiled when he put the bag down.

  “We ran into each other. I stopped for dinner on the way home from my shift, and we just—bang!—ran into each other.” He waited until she handed him a bag, then motioned to the glider. When they sat, her thigh grazing his, he turned to her and asked, “Or was it more of a whack—not a bang—the collision?”

  She tried not to giggle, but it was hard. Reaching a hand into the bag, she pulled out an onion ring. They were just the way she loved them; crispy and browned, and with just a hint of sweetness.

  She took a bite. Chewed. Beside her, he did the same. And while the others had begun to eat, she sensed their attention was on them.

  “Mmm, I think it was more a kablammy.” She looked sideways and saw his focus was on her. And, a grin played around the edges of his mouth as he chewed. She nodded. “Yes, it was definitely a kablammy.”

  Gabby snorted. “Sounds painful.”

  Ever the peacemaker, Uncle Ted said, “Well, I’m glad you two ran into each other. It’s nice to have an extra for harmony. We’ve got some Three Dog Night planned, and maybe some Chicago if we can talk Gabby into it.”

  “Too mellow, Chicago.” Gabby took a bite of her apple turnover and groaned. “But after all of this yummy food, I just might need mellow. And a nap.”

  “Oh, I’m not here for the singing. I can’t carry a tune.”

  It was the first thing that he balked at. The protest over not singing had a hint of desperation to it.

  “Don’t be silly, Doc. Everyone can carry a tune.” Reva gave him a long, quiet look. “You should know that. It’s as easy as talking. If you can talk, you can sing.”

  “Don’t try to wiggle out of it.” Gabby polished off the turnover, then focused her attention on the onion rings. She took one from the bag and shook it at him. “We need harmony for Three Dog Night. And, if you can save a kid’s life with a twig and a soda can tab, you can sing.”

  He nearly choked on the food in his mouth. Uncle Ted had handed them each a beer from the cooler beside his chair before they sat down, so he took a long slug of Pabst.

  The Blue Ribbon must’ve sent the food in the right direction, because Kyle cleared his throat as he waved a hand in the air. “It wasn’t anything so drastic—or exciting. It was an ordinary pen casing, and a pocketknife. And don’t forget Chloe’s part in it. I couldn’t have asked for a better—or more level-headed—assistant. Without her, I would’ve been up the creek.”

  “It’s sweet of you to say that, but I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who saved that kid, not me. I just followed orders and tried to be helpful.”

  He’d stopped eating. When she met his gaze she forgot she’d been famished just a half-hour ago. The way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat.

  “It might not have turned out as well if you weren’t there.” His tone was soft and tender, his gaze gentle. “Don’t sell your
self short; I’m certainly not going to. You were amazing, and I’m very grateful for all you did. The boy’s parents are, too. I told them…”

  “You told them what?”

  He smiled, looking a tad sheepish. “Well…”

  “Well…?”

  He raised the beer can to his lips and took a slug. “Well, I told them we were on our way to dinner when we found their son.”

  “That’s true. We were.”

  “Right.” He took another pull at the can. “I told them I was taking my girlfriend to dinner when we found their son. And, uh, without your help, I’m not sure what would have happened.”

  Chapter 16

  Chloe leaned the wooden ladder against the wall of the house, toeing the peonies aside so the legs sank down into the soil. She placed a foot on the bottom rung, lifted herself up, and gave a test hop. The ladder settled a bit more, so she climbed the second rung and shook it. No movement, so the old, paint-splattered thing was as steady as it was going to get.

  Gabby’s guitar lay in the sunshine on a tie-dyed blanket spread across the grass. Its owner stared down at it, chewing her lower lip and frowning. She was still wearing sea foam green baby doll pajamas and had her hands on her hips and feet spread wide.

  What a shitty way to start a day. The rain at midnight had sounded so soft and made falling asleep as easy as slipping into the ocean. Her dreams were filled with visions of blue sea, ripe coconuts and pink butterflies flying low over a sun-kissed, sandy beach. When she came down to the kitchen, she was well rested, with a smile in her heart.

  Until she saw the gloom on the faces that waited her arrival.

  Reva’s big, heavy tome, Jurisprudence in the Modern Age, suffered the indignity of blow drying, a la Lady Clairol. Julia’s wedge sandals were no longer a light beige. The soaking they’d received turned the soft leather a darker shade of brown. A chair and, of course, the rug on the sunroom floor took a hit. But the heartbreaker was Gabby’s guitar. Thankfully, it had been in its case, which gave it some protection. The case was shot all to hell, already warping so badly it would never latch properly again.

  Uncle Ted had gone for an early tai chi session on the beach, along with some of his cronies, so he had no idea the roof leaked so bad. They would keep it from him if they could, although he had a way of figuring things out even when they tried to hide the truth.

  Chloe put her arm around Gabby’s shoulders. They trembled beneath her hand.

  “God, but this sucks. I’m so sorry, Gabby.”

  “I feel like a jerk, but I’m kind of attached to that silly guitar.”

  “It’s not silly.” A tear slid down her friend’s cheek, sending Chloe’s spirits sinking further into the depths of despair. It was one thing to be in a leaky boat when the boat was hers, but to pull so many others into the sinking ship was wrong. For an instant she considered asking the girls to leave. But if she did, surely they would lose the house. And it would break Uncle Ted’s heart.

  She still hadn’t figured out how to make the big payment to the bank. No amount of pleading could make them back down, although they did budge a touch on the money’s due date. Six months wasn’t a long time, but it was a reprieve. Maybe she could figure something out by then. If not, they’d all be looking for new places to live.

  A sniff. Gabby knelt and turned the instrument, placing it so the sun warmed the spot on the side that still glistened wetly.

  “I don’t even know what to say to make this better.”

  “There’s nothing to say, sister.” Gabby looked at the house and pointed to the roof. “It’s not your fault this happened. No one knew the roof was going to leak.”

  Chloe stared at the corner, at the spot where most of the deluge had entered. With the big oak spreading wide and throwing so much shade, a slick of moss covered the old shingles. No way to tell what was going on until she got a good look.

  “I still feel terrible. Listen, I want you to know, I understand if you decide to move. Really, if you book it out of here, I won’t hold it against you. No hard feelings.” She couldn’t meet the other woman’s gaze. Concentrating on the point where her sneakered toe met grass, she added, “The other girls, too. You can tell them, if you want.”

  Gabby stood and put a hand back on her hip. With the other, she reached for Chloe’s arm. Gave a squeeze—so tight that she had to look up.

  “Hey—that hurts.”

  “It was supposed to.” Gabby released her but her eyes were stormy when she spoke. “I am not leaving because the stupid roof leaks. That is an idiotic thing to suggest—and I’m not telling the others you even said something like that.”

  She sighed, waving toward the house. “The place is falling down around us. Damn it, I try so hard, but it’s like being a one-armed juggler. No matter how high or hard I throw one ball, the next smacks me on the head before I can catch it. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Really, I don’t.”

  Gabby pointed to the guitar. “See that? It’s drying. And by tonight, it’s going to sound as good as ever. Things take a beating, but they bounce back. And you? You’ll bounce, too. This is a little setback, that’s all. Keep juggling; you’re doing a great job.”

  “You’re sweet for saying that, but I’m not so sure my juggling skills are all that.” She took a deep breath as she reached up and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. The scrunchie on her wrist went twice around. She pulled sunglasses down off her forehead and onto her nose. “Well, it’s not going to fix itself. I don’t want you-know-who to know we’re taking on water, so I have to get this done before he gets home.”

  “Good idea.” Gabby headed across the lawn. She paused beside an enormous lilac bush, so big it nearly obscured the back steps. “Hey?”

  She was busy shoving tools into her jeans pockets. She grabbed a hammer from the toolbox, then looked up. “What?”

  “Your uncle—have you noticed?”

  She straightened, giving the question some thought. There had been subtle changes in the man, but she had thought it was wishful thinking on her part. Or, an over-active imagination.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just that he seems stronger lately. Doesn’t sleep as much in the afternoons, that sort of thing. The other girls—especially Reva—noticed, too. He just seems…well, better somehow.”

  Some of the heaviness that invaded her soul since finding the flood lifted. People mattered, things—even houses—less so. The roof would get sorted out, one way or another. Uncle Ted sorting himself out? More headline-worthy.

  When she smiled, it came from her heart. “I love it that you’ve all noticed, too. I…I really thought I imagined it, you know? I just want it so desperately that I…well, damn, I’m glad it’s something real.”

  “It’s real. We’ve been waiting for a sign that he’s improving, and I think this might be it. He’s changing, and it’s all good. Now, we’ll just take a note from your uncle.” She put a hand on the back screen door and pulled it wide. “He’s like a Timex, sister. We’ve got to do the same.”

  A giggle, pure relief after the past tense hour. She swung the hammer, testing its weight in her hand. “That’s right. He takes a licking—”

  Gabby finished the tag line with her. “And keeps on ticking!”

  Chapter 17

  The roof wasn’t as bad as she feared. Where the sunroom, which had been added on a few decades earlier, met the main house there were spots with shingles worn thin. After she’d poked a finger through one, she began pulling them off. It was hot, sticky, dirty work, and she quickly became covered with slime from the moss, but the shingles lifted without too much trouble.

  Getting the bad stuff off was one thing. Figuring out how to replace the valley between the roof and siding, and shingle the bare spots, was another entirely. Some of the nails in the asphalt strips were rusted clear through, which made it hard to tell just how the whole thing had been constructed originally, but as near as she could tell, there were three or four nails in
each strip of shingles.

  Just put it back the way you found it, she told herself. No big deal.

  A pile of shredded shingles beside where she squatted had grown enough that it was sliding sideways across the mossy gunk. She grabbed a handful and tossed them over the edge of the roof. When she heard them smack against the ground, a second, bigger, handful followed.

  “Hey!”

  The voice was as familiar as the beating of her heart.

  “Neil? What are you doing here?”

  Shit. Just when she was beginning to get past the leaky fiasco and let her mind wander back to last night, when the hunky doctor had kissed her goodnight. The last thing she needed—and wanted—was this flash from the past. Not when the future looked—finally—rosier than it had in longer than she could remember.

  Neil’s upper body appeared at the edge of the roof. He smiled at her, then his gaze traveled along the work area.

  A long, low whistle. “You’ve got a mess here.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” She heaved a bunch of ripped black paper over the edge. The look on his face made her instantly contrite, so she picked up another handful of paper and shrugged before throwing it. “I don’t know what this stuff is called but it was under the shingles. It’s all torn, so I’m just peeling it up.”

  He swung a leg over the edge and climbed onto the roof. Nudging her over with his hip so he could kneel beside her, he said, “It’s called roofing paper, and yeah, it needs to be replaced. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come over anytime and taken care of this.”

  When she moved sideways, scuttling like a crab along the beach, she slipped. The moss was slimy everywhere, but more so in spots still wet with dew. Chloe’s heart lurched, but she caught herself before she went too far.

  He reached for her, but she waved him away. “Careful—you’ll fall off this damn roof and hit your head.”

  “Think that hasn’t crossed my mind already?” She crawled, ever-so carefully, along the slope until she was back near the top. “The last thing I need is to fall on my head.”

 

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