“I then radioed for an ambulance,” Hook finished their recollection of events while Rennie wrote everything down. She would have to refine her notes later, but for now, the scribbled text would suffice.
“What are you arresting my client for again?”
“DUII, possession, driving without a license, valid registration, and insurance.”
While these charges weren’t her field of study, she knew the last three charges would never stick. Those were the easiest to take care of. The other two would be a challenge. She folded her hands and set them on top of her notepad. “I’m not sure if you are aware, but my client is in a coma. I can call you when he wakes, and you can make the arrest, or you can waste taxpayer dollars by putting an officer by his door.”
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. The nurses will let us know when Mr. Chamberlain is awake. We only came by today as a courtesy to the family so they aren’t caught off guard when we return to arrest him.” The officers stood and made their way to the door. As soon as it shut, Rennie sighed heavily.
“What does all of this mean?” Johanna asked. “I don’t even understand, because Grady doesn’t have a car. Where did he get a car from?” Her question lingered in the air. Rennie, of course, had no idea. She looked to Graham for clarification, but he looked as confused as his mother.
“Grady is in a lot of trouble,” Rennie stated.
“But you can help?”
“Mom, Rennie does family law. The charges against Grady . . .” Graham stopped talking.
“Graham’s right. This isn’t my expertise, but I have colleagues who deal with this sort of stuff every day. Grady will be in good hands.” Even as Rennie said the words, she didn’t believe them. Grady was in a lot of trouble, enough to land himself in jail if they didn’t face a sympathetic judge or the right assistant district attorney. Rennie hoped a plea deal could save Grady from such a fate.
Rennie excused herself and went back to the waiting room. She wanted to keep the case in house and cochair, even though one wouldn’t be required, and she lacked the experience with this side of the law. She scrolled through her contacts from work and tried to recall any particular crossing they may have had. Rennie came across a few names and jotted them down. She would speak to them on Monday when she returned to work. For now, she sat in the waiting room and looked up case law on her phone because she was going to do what she had to in order to protect the Chamberlains and help Grady.
TEN
The horn sounded outside of Graham’s window. Two short bursts, and then another two. And then more followed. Ships passing in the sea. He groaned and reached for his phone to turn off his alarm clock. He hadn’t even made it to six o’clock. He was exhausted—both mentally and physically. The long holiday weekend had turned into one he would love to forget. However, with his brother, Grady, still in a medically induced coma and his mother holding a vigil at Grady’s bedside, the memories would never fade. Graham lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. How has life ended up this way? he wondered. And what was the breaking point for him and his family? For Grady?
Graham stretched, and his muscles protested—some strained and caused him to ease up. For the past few days, he, along with Rennie, had slept in the waiting room, despite Johanna telling them both to go home. Graham wouldn’t leave his mother, and for whatever reason, Rennie wouldn’t leave Graham. And he loved her for it. All weekend, she had been by his side, being the voice of reason and the person he could lean on, and when the police showed up, Rennie took over—no questions asked. Graham didn’t know where he or his family would be right now if it weren’t for her.
He finally rolled out of bed and set his bare feet on the cold wood. He shivered and reached for the pair of sweatpants he had left on the floor. Somewhere, he had slippers but had yet to dig them out of his closet because he didn’t want to admit that winter was upon them. He hated the cold and often longed for the warmth of California, even though some winter days were chilly in San Jose. There were very few of them.
A full day of worry and work faced Graham. Thankfully, Krista Rich, Graham’s only other full-time server/bartender, filled in for him over the weekend and had made sure the Whale Spout stayed fully operational in his absence. Since he had taken over, he had yet to take a vacation, and while the idea of going away for a week or so excited him, he never took the opportunity. Spending the last four days in a hospital waiting room wasn’t the kind of escape he longed for.
Graham braved the cold floor and lumbered downstairs to his bathroom, used the facility, and hopped into the shower. His mistake was forgetting to turn on the water pump. He stepped out of the shower, walked out of the bathroom free as the day he was born, and went into the kitchen to flip the switch, having forgotten the blinds were open.
His neighbor Shari was at the end of the dock, and she happened to turn at the right moment. Graham waved like he had done every time he had seen her since she moved in. Her mouth dropped open, and Graham stared, wondering what she was doing. He stood there for a long minute before realization sank in. His mouth plummeted to the ground, and he covered it in horror and then concealed himself as much as possible as he ran back to the bathroom.
He muttered a string of obscenities as he ducked into the shower. He was mortified and hadn’t accounted for anyone being near his end of the dock. His next encounter with Shari was going to be mighty awkward. He could see it playing out in his mind. Blushed cheeks and garbled hellos as they passed by each other with little to no eye contact. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to muster a friendly wave after what had just happened.
When he finished, he dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and peeked out the bathroom door, angling to see who, if anyone, was near his windows. With the coast clear, he hightailed it up the stairs, slipped on the hardwood floor, and tumbled down to the ground. He smacked his knee and thigh and finally came to rest on his ass. Out of breath, he huffed, “Just call me Grace.”
Graham took a moment to compose himself. He was flustered and needed to get his head straight. He blamed Grady. Everything wrong in his life was Grady’s fault. It seemed rude to blame his brother, and deep down Graham knew he could’ve made changes. No one ever told him he had to stay in Cape Harbor. He did out of obligation, and it was easier to blame Grady than to accept Graham had given up.
He dressed in boxers, jeans, and a band T-shirt from the early ’90s. He put on his socks and his “date” boots, grabbed his phone, and went back downstairs and into the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror and noticed for the first time in his adult life that he had bags under his eyes and had no idea how to get rid of them. Graham picked up his metal container of hair cream, scooped a blob onto the palm of his hand, and rubbed his hands together and then through his hair. Since Rennie’s return into his life, he’d started caring about the way he looked. She made him want to care.
Graham planned to grab breakfast at the diner. He figured Peggy had heard something about Grady and wanted to set the record straight before the rumor mill ran rampant with made-up facts, even though the last thing he wanted to do was tell anyone what happened to his family.
The dock wobbled when Graham stepped out onto it. The choppy water usually meant a storm was brewing and would reach land soon. Another part of fall turning into winter that he hated. He passed by Shari’s houseboat and walked a bit faster. He kept his head down until he reached the ramp that would take him to land. The parking lot was half-full, and someone backing a truck down the boat ramp was ready to off-load their boat. Graham looked behind him, surveying the water, and shook his head. After Austin’s death, the mayor put a lot of restrictions on when boats could go out, and today looked like one of those days.
He drove into town, and while he usually parked behind the bar, in the alley, he found a spot in front of the diner. Graham pulled in and shut off his Hyundai Santa Fe. Brystol teased him about his choice of transportation, calling it a “dad car,” but it served its purpose for Graham.
He could carry supplies from his runs to the food wholesalers, deliver kegs easily for parties, and transport his parents if need be. There were times when he thought about buying something bigger, like Brooklyn’s Tahoe, but he didn’t want a car payment.
It was well after nine in the morning, and cars lined the street. Graham considered this to be a good sign of things to come for the Whale Spout’s lunch rush, which hopefully trickled into dinner. Monday night was dart night, and most of Bowie’s crew would be down for their weekly tournament. Graham craved the normalcy of his job. He wanted to be near people but was unprepared to hear people talk about Grady. Towns were small north of Seattle, and word traveled fast.
As soon as Graham stepped into the diner, Peggy waved. She went to the coffee urn, placed a white mug underneath the spout, and pulled the handle. Graham sat at the counter, on a cracked red vinyl stool nearest the door, and picked up the menu even though he knew he’d order the same breakfast sandwich he always did.
“I’m hearing some scuttlebutt,” Peggy said as she set the mug down in front of Graham.
He inhaled deeply and nodded. “Which is why I’m here. I need two things from you.”
“Name ’em.”
“I don’t want people saying anything else about Grady, so if they ask or you hear something, just say he’s sick and in the hospital, okay?”
Peggy leaned closer to Graham and asked, “What’s really going on?”
He did the same. “He’s sick, Peggy. He’s in a medically induced coma in Port A. My mom is up there with him. She won’t come home, which is part of my second request for you.”
A customer walked in, and Peggy stood upright. She greeted them and said she’d be over to help them in a minute. When they sat, she leaned back down onto the counter. “He in trouble?”
“You could say that.” Graham didn’t want to offer up any more than he needed. “When you’re off, do you think you could go over to my parents’ and help me pack some things for my mom? She’s staying with Grady, and I can’t get her to come home.”
“Where’s your dad?”
“In denial,” he told her, wishing it were a real-life place so he didn’t have to deal with him.
Peggy nodded. “Tell me what time, and I’ll be there.”
Graham told Peggy he had to rearrange the schedule at the bar but was hoping to be out of there by dinnertime. He planned to go back to Port A tomorrow after work and would continue to do so as often as he could until Grady woke up. Graham also had to find a way to get through his father’s thick skull but was at a loss on how to do such a thing.
He ordered his breakfast, and while he waited, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had missed a call from Rennie, and his heart sank. What could’ve happened from the time he dropped her off at the inn last night until now? He chose to text her back. He didn’t want to interrupt her day, and he also didn’t know if he could hear her tell him any more bad news. Graham sent Rennie a quick What’s up? and then closed the app. Talking to her sometimes made him feel like they were back in high school. He thought about the days when he would flirt heavily with her. He missed those days. Life had been so easy.
Peggy brought Graham’s breakfast sandwich out on a plate. She took his mug and refilled it but never asked any more questions about Grady. Graham ate quickly, left a ten on the counter, which more than covered his food and coffee, and left her a generous tip. When he got outside, he went back to his car and drove it around the back, freeing up space in front for a patron.
Graham parked in the alley, parallel along the edge of the pavement. Most of the merchants parked back there, giving them easy access to their back doors. He unlocked the rear door to the Whale Spout and stepped into the cold dark space. He fumbled for the light switch, moved it to the on position, and closed his eyes as the overhead fluorescent lights flickered until they illuminated the room. He referred to this space as dry storage and the recycling area, where he kept the bar’s stock of paper products, trash bags, and cleaning supplies. The room was barely over a year old, and he’d had Bowie build it after a series of break-ins, which he believed to be carried out by his brother. Ideally, Graham would’ve preferred to install a reinforced door facing the back alley. However, the building where the Whale Spout lived was old and not in the best shape. Bowie’s suggestion was to build a room blocking immediate access to the bar, which he could reinforce with newer construction. Graham agreed, knowing even though the multiple-door system was a pain in the ass, there was no doubt they needed security. He pushed his six-digit code into the keypad, waited for the mechanical lock to slide away from the doorjamb, and stepped into the original yet smaller back room of the bar.
Stacks of boxes, crates, and kegs gave him pause when he entered the room. He had forgotten to do inventory on Wednesday and had planned to do it Friday after the holiday. Graham fully expected to find a list of items Krista took from the back room to cover what she needed up front. He would worry about it later.
Graham went around turning on the lights, the fryers, and the grill, along with the dartboards and jukebox. He flipped the sign from closed to open and made sure he unlocked the door. He wanted people milling around, coming in, and eating. Graham needed the distraction, anything to take his mind off his brother.
He found himself standing in the middle of the bar, jumping out of his skin when the door flew open. He swore aloud to the ghosts who haunted the Whale Spout, quite certain he could hear them laughing at him, calling him a scaredy-cat. Normally, the haunting didn’t bother him, but he was on edge with everything.
Luke, Bowie’s black Lab, took advantage of the door being open and strolled into the bar. Graham laughed and went behind the counter to get him a treat. Seconds later, Bowie stepped in and pulled the door shut behind him. “Morning,” he said as he sat down at the bar.
“Isn’t it a little too early for a drink?” Graham said to his friend.
“Aren’t bartenders supposed to serve their patrons any time of the day?”
“I’m turning over a new leaf,” he replied, smirking. Still, he set one of his custom-made coasters down and asked Bowie what he’d like to drink. Bowie ordered water and agreed with Graham. It was too early to drink. “Are you working today?”
“Yeah, starting a remodel at the old gristmill. Someone from Texas bought it.”
“What are they doing with it?”
“Turning it into a house.”
“That’ll be cool, especially if they run the water mill.”
“How’s Grady?”
“Shit,” Graham said as he reached for his phone. “I meant to text my mom and have her call me.” He sent a message to his mom, looked to see if Rennie had texted him back, and, when he saw she hadn’t, set his phone down. “When I left last night, he was still in the coma. The doctor hoped they’d be able to bring him out of it today or tomorrow, although his organs are pretty damaged.”
“If he recovers, it’ll be a long road ahead for him.”
“If,” Graham repeated.
Don, one of the three cooks employed at the Whale Spout, announced his arrival, which earned a loud bark from Luke. He came into the bar and filled his large plastic cup with pop and said he’d be out back cleaning. Graham wondered how busy they were over the weekend. He needed to pull the register tapes and check profits.
“You heading back to Port A tonight?”
Graham shook his head. “Tomorrow after work. I have to sit down with Krista and see if we can make some changes to the schedule. Tonight, Peggy is going to help me put some stuff together for my mom, and I’m going to try and get my dad to go up there.”
“Still being stubborn?”
“Like a mule.” Graham sighed. “Do you ever wonder how things could’ve been different?”
Bowie nodded. “Every day. I look at Brooklyn and ask myself why I didn’t follow her or harass her parents about where she was. I let her go and tried to move on. I lost fifteen years . . .” A couple people walked in, and Bo
wie stopped talking. They sat at the end of the bar, away from Bowie. Graham went to them, tended to their needs, and came back to his friend. “What’s plaguing you?” Bowie asked Graham.
“Grady, obviously. My dad for being in denial. Rennie. She stepped up big time at the hospital, and I hate that I can’t be with her.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Graham wanted them back. He glanced at Bowie, whose eyes widened.
“What?”
Graham shrugged. “Ever since this past summer, when she walked in here and announced herself, I’m back to where I was before everything happened.”
“Do you love Rennie?”
It was a question Graham often asked himself. Deep down, he knew the answer, but it wouldn’t matter, because she was in love with someone else. “I could say yes, but I’d be an idiot for even thinking that way about her. I could say no, but I’d be lying to myself.”
“You should tell her.”
Graham shook his head. “No way. She’s in love with Theo. I’m not going to tell her anything, because what we had was high school and college; it’s Brooklyn’s return, and subsequently Rennie’s as well, that’s dredged up these feelings. Before, we had a fling. It worked for us.” He shrugged. “Now we’re adults. She has a life, and mine’s in limbo. I’m not about to confuse her.”
“Well, sometimes I think she needs a little confusing. And for the record, Brooklyn has a feeling things aren’t great between Rennie and Theo. Maybe you can be the knight in shining armor. I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”
Until Then Page 10