“You actually did love me?” The words sounded pathetic and weak, even to her, but she needed to know the truth. After twelve years of lies, she needed the truth.
He took her face in his hands the way he had so many times before, so many years ago, and took a step closer to her. He used his thumbs to catch her tears, wiping her cheeks dry; then gently, he kissed her forehead, then one cheek, then the other. “I never stopped.”
She brought her eyes to his, searching for a reason to run.
She found none, only that same genuine love she’d always found when she looked at him.
“I’ll do anything I can to prove myself to you,” he said. “And if I’m not too late, I wondered if maybe we could start over?”
She covered his hands, still holding her face, with hers and closed her eyes.
“I promise I won’t make the same mistake twice, Isabelle. If you let me, I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”
She opened her eyes, locked on to his, and nodded.
“Yeah?” His mouth spread into a slow grin.
She nodded again as he brought his lips to hers and kissed her with a pent-up passion that hadn’t been unlocked in twelve years.
“I want you to meet her,” she said, pulling away. “I want her to meet you.”
“That would make me the happiest person on the planet.”
Another kiss—then another—and she felt his arms around her in a way she sometimes dreamed of late at night.
Was this really happening?
“I’ll go home and get her, but I want to talk to my parents first.”
He let his forehead rest on hers. “I can come with you.”
“No,” she said. “I’ve got to do this on my own. But after I do, we can be together, and this time, nobody else is going to get in the middle of it.”
He smiled as she removed herself from his embrace.
“Where will you be?”
“My aunt’s cottage,” he said. “Cliff Road.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Our cottage?”
His eyes found hers again. “Our cottage.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again, this time slowly, deliberately, and without the rush of the past. “I love you, JD Walker,” she whispered.
“I love you too.”
And as she got in the cab to take her back to her parents’ house, back to Emily, her heart leapt at the idea that finally—finally—she might get her happily ever after.
CHAPTER 45
EMILY TRUDGED BACK UP TO THE HOUSE, so angry with Hollis she wondered for a fleeting moment how it would feel to punch him. It was a ridiculous notion considering he likely had rock-hard abs that would do more damage to her fist than to him, but still, she wondered. She’d expected him to be on her side, but then that would’ve made him feel bad about his own mistakes, wouldn’t it?
Of course he’d side with Jack. He was Jack.
The thought sent her stomach roiling. Coming back to Nantucket had been the worst mistake she’d ever made, and she’d made a lot.
She plowed through the yard and into the house through the sliding-glass door. She closed the door behind her and walked into the kitchen, where she found her grandmother standing, stick straight like a beauty queen.
She’d never made sense of her grandmother. They were from two different worlds—she’d spent so much of her life trying to reconcile the person she thought her mother wanted her to be with the person her grandmother was actively trying to turn her into.
Emily froze, and her grandmother gave her a long, pointed look. Sure, she’d borrowed the car without asking, but Grandma had fired Jack without asking. Grandma had refused to fill in any of the blank spaces in Emily’s story. Grandma had answers where Emily only had questions.
Emily hung on to the older woman’s gaze, mustered every ounce of courage she could find, and jutted out her chin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her grandma’s already-straight shoulders stiffened. “Tell you what?”
“About Jack.”
Grandma pressed her thin lips together until they disappeared. “I’m sorry, Emily. I know you wanted to handle this remodel all on your own, but I had to intervene when I saw some of the mistakes you were making.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Eliza quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly.
“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Don’t I at least deserve that?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” Grandma said.
Emily moved to one side of the large island Jack had built for the center of the kitchen. He’d installed a beautiful granite countertop on the white base, which was filled with drawers and cabinets and meant to store dish towels, mixing bowls, and serving dishes. He’d done a beautiful job—even Grandma had to admit that.
“Why didn’t you tell me he’s my father?”
Grandma’s eyes darted to Emily’s. “What did you just say?”
“You can stop pretending now, Grandma,” Emily said. “I know the truth. I talked to Jack.”
“And he told you this?”
“I found this.” Emily pulled the copy of the newspaper article from her pocket and handed it to her grandma over the kitchen island.
Grandma took the paper gingerly and gave it a once-over as if she knew exactly what it was. “What’s this got to do with anything?”
“He was there,” Emily said. “At Mom’s funeral.”
Grandma looked again, squinting this time.
Emily reached over and pointed to the blurry image of a younger Jack Walker.
Grandma’s brow puckered. “Oh, how can you tell?”
“It’s him, Grandma. He didn’t deny it.”
Grandma gestured as if to flick an imaginary bug away. “That man is nothing but trouble. Always has been, always will be.”
“You knew this whole time,” Emily said, the realization of it washing over her with so much force it almost knocked her down. “Why would you keep this from me?”
“What did Jack tell you?”
“Nothing,” Emily said. “He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Grandma tried to hide the look of surprise on her face, but Emily saw it clearly. What did Grandma think Jack told her?
“So you need to tell me, Grandma,” Emily said. “It’s been eighteen years, more if you count all the years before Mom died. Something happened, and I want to know what it was.”
Grandma walked toward the sink and stared out the window toward the ocean. With her back to Emily, she looked slight and angular, all jagged edges—not a single soft line on her body.
“Jack Walker showed up in Nantucket the year before your mother’s senior year of high school. He was trouble right from the start—anyone could see it.” She didn’t turn around as she spoke.
Because he wasn’t rich, like the rest of you? Because he was like Hollis?
Emily resisted the urge to say the words racing through her mind, choosing instead to drop onto a stool next to the island. Were they finally going to talk about this? After all this time, was Emily finally going to get answers?
“Your mother had never defied us before, but she became the definition of rebellious after she met Jack. We found out about their little fling and we tried to put an end to it—your grandfather even went to his boss at the club—” She stopped abruptly as if thinking better of continuing.
“Did GrandPop get Jack fired?”
Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and faced Emily, that all-knowing, holier-than-thou expression on her face. “He simply pointed out some of the issues he’d had with Jack on the course.”
“He got him fired,” Emily said.
“Jack was no saint, Emily,” Grandma said. “Don’t go making your grandfather into the villain here.”
Emily drew in a deep breath and willed herself to stay quiet—at least for now.
“It didn’t matter anyway,” Grandma said. “He found another
job almost immediately, working at the yacht club.”
Good for Jack, Emily thought.
“And your mother refused to stop seeing him. ‘I love him,’ she said, as if she had any idea what love was.” Grandma waved her hand in the air. “We did everything we could think of to keep the two of them apart, and when she turned up pregnant, it was obvious we were right. That boy and all his raging hormones pressured Isabelle into sleeping with him, and her whole life—everything we’d planned for her—it was all ruined.”
Emily’s shoulders sank. Ruined.
“Oh, don’t look like that,” Grandma said. “You know I don’t mean anything negative. You, of course, were a gift—and one we’d never give back—but the circumstances of your birth were less than ideal. That’s just a fact.”
Emily looked away, and she did her very best not to let herself cry.
Ruined.
Had she ruined her mother’s life? Was that why she’d worked so hard to make it up to her? The traveling, the adventure, living out her dreams—had she been trying to pay for the sin of being born?
“Anyway, Jack found out about the pregnancy and he was gone a few days later,” she scoffed as if to dismiss him even now.
Emily eyed her grandmother. The woman had always been proud. She loved a good debate, prided herself on winning. She’d always had an air about her that made other people feel they weren’t quite up to her standards, Emily included. Grandma’s face puckered, and her expression turned sour.
“There’s more to that story, though, isn’t there, Grandma?” Emily wouldn’t leave this room until she had answers, and the same old story wasn’t what she was looking for.
“What do you want me to say, Emily?”
“I want to know the truth,” she said. “All of it.”
Grandma drew in a terse breath and let it out as a heavy sigh. “What do you want to know? Did we do everything in our power to make sure you had the very best life you possibly could? Of course we did, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Emily narrowed her gaze on her grandmother. “You’d do what again?”
Emily had never seen her grandmother flustered until that exact moment. She looked—for the first time Emily could remember—like a woman who didn’t know what to say. Like a woman who’d run out of sentences to deflect and detract from the truth. She looked like she’d been caught.
“Your mother was so young, Emily,” Grandma said after several long seconds. “She was young and foolish, and she thought she loved that boy.”
Emily resisted the urge to interrupt.
“After she found out she was pregnant, Isabelle had a grand delusion that she was going to marry this boy—this golf caddie.”
She said the words as if they were a swear.
“We knew it wouldn’t do,” Eliza said. “We knew there was no way Jack Walker could provide for our daughter. Isabelle was going to college. She was a star student. She was an Ackerman.”
“And Jack Walker was a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“Oh, I know how it sounds,” Grandma said. “It sounds cliché. It sounds like a story you’ve heard over and over in the movies, but it was true. That boy wasn’t good enough for Isabelle, and he certainly wasn’t good enough for you.”
Grandma’s lips drew into a tight, thin line.
“So what did you do?”
She shrugged, her face innocent. “I did what any sane mother would’ve done. I laid out the options for Jack.”
“The options?”
“We went to see Jack Walker at the yacht club. He was out in the back laughing it up with his buddies as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if his actions hadn’t caused irreparable damage.”
“Did he know my mom was pregnant?”
“Of course he knew,” Eliza said. “Who do you think put those ridiculous ideas of getting married and living in some tiny apartment in Boston in her head?”
Emily shook her head. “I didn’t know about those ridiculous ideas.”
“Well, your mother wouldn’t listen to reason. She was dead set on playing house with the poor kid she met on Nantucket. We all know how that would’ve ended.”
“So you went to see him . . .”
“And we made it plain. We simply showed him the truth of the situation.”
“Which was?”
“That we could provide a life for the two of you that he never could.”
“So you told him he wasn’t good enough for her.”
“Not just her,” Eliza said. “You too.”
Emily didn’t know what to say. She had no words. Her grandmother was completely unapologetic for her actions, as if they were perfectly justified.
“It’s kind of hard to believe he would’ve walked away without a fight,” Emily said. “I mean, if they were so crazy about each other.”
“Well, once Alan told him we’d cut her off if they went through with their ridiculous plan, Jack saw the error of his ways.”
Emily’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. “He told him what?”
“Don’t be so surprised,” Eliza said. “We simply explained that if he stayed in our daughter’s life, we would no longer support her. That’s what being an adult is, after all. Did he really want to be the reason Isabelle lost her trust fund and everything else she stood to inherit? That was enough to make him walk away.”
“Because you made him think he couldn’t take care of us,” Emily said. “You made him believe that your way of life was the only way for us to be happy.”
“I wasn’t wrong,” Grandma said.
“Did my mother know you did this?”
Emily watched as her grandmother wrapped her arms around herself as if she suddenly needed protection. For the first time since they started their conversation, Eliza looked slightly sad.
“I’m tired, Emily,” Grandma said. “Let’s finish talking about this tomorrow.”
“No.” Emily stood. “She didn’t know my father loved her. She thought he left her because of me. I’ve spent my whole life believing that I was the reason she never got her happy ending.”
“Emily, none of this had anything to do with you,” Eliza said.
“How can you say that?” Emily raised her voice. “This whole thing happened because of me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Did she find out what you did, Grandma?”
Her grandmother sighed. “Not at first. But that summer, the summer she died—Jack came back. I guess they ran into each other, and he told her everything. Made us out to be the bad guys, of course.”
“That’s what you were arguing about that night.”
Eliza nodded. “She was so angry with us, and as usual, she wouldn’t listen to reason. I don’t know how much you remember, but your mother was hysterical. It was embarrassing, really.”
Embarrassing to whom?
“Grandma, her whole world came crashing down that night,” Emily said, putting the pieces together.
“But everything we did we did for you—for both of you. You must see that. You had a wonderful life because of us.”
“But she didn’t even get to make the choice for herself. You made it for her.”
“Oh, Emily, please. Someday when you have a child, you’ll understand. Kids don’t know what they want. They don’t know what’s best for them.”
Emily shifted. “Losing Jack broke my mom’s heart, Grandma. You broke her heart. I don’t think she ever recovered from that.”
“Well, she would’ve if she’d been alive long enough. Time passes and makes things so clear, Emily. She would’ve seen the woman you’ve grown into and she would’ve known that was because your grandfather and I were in your lives. You’ve never wanted for anything.”
But that didn’t mean she was happy. She’d had things. She’d had a hefty bank account and vacations and culture. She’d grown up in a house fit for a princess. And yet she had wanted for something. For someone. For love. She’d wanted to belo
ng. She’d wanted what Hollis described—a simple life with kids and a dog and a little house that could only be described as “cozy.”
She wanted a family.
Sadness filled Emily’s heart, not only for the love her mother lost, but for the years she’d spent believing her father didn’t want her. And also—surprisingly—for her grandmother, a woman who had no idea that love was often far more important than things. To Grandma, life was about status and money and power and what everyone else thought of you.
It was as if the older woman had never considered there might be more to life than this.
Grandma pivoted in a circle and wrung her hands. “I stand by what we did. It was the best choice for you and your mother. Can you imagine being raised by Jack Walker?”
Maybe Mom would still be here today.
The thought entered Emily’s mind without permission, and she did her best to shove it aside, though the effects of it lingered. She didn’t want to blame anyone else for Mom’s death, but a case could be made that her grandparents’ actions had directly led to the events of that night.
How could she ever forgive them?
“I could just throttle your grandfather,” Grandma said.
“GrandPop? Why?”
The older woman groaned. “He’s the reason Jack Walker is here at all. Your grandfather, in all his wisdom, had a letter sent to the man after he died. Apologized for the way we treated him, as if we were the ones in the wrong. Apparently your grandfather grew soft in his old age.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He told Jack he was leaving the house to you, that if Jack was receiving the letter, Alan had passed away and he should pay attention to Nantucket because that’s where you’d be.”
“He wanted me to meet him . . . ,” Emily said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yes,” Grandma said. “It would seem so. Never mind that I’m the one left to pick up the pieces of this disaster he set in motion.”
Emily watched as her grandmother walked over to a brand-new cabinet, pulled out a glass, filled it with water, and took a drink. It all seemed methodical, as if Grandma was waiting for Emily to magically understand her point of view. But that wasn’t going to happen. The woman had been lying to Emily her entire life, and now, looking back on the night her mother died, it was hard not to blame her.
If for Any Reason Page 33