Barefoot Season

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Barefoot Season Page 32

by Susan Mallery


  Michelle wanted to stick out her tongue and remind the man she’d already told him this wasn’t a legitimate complaint but didn’t think that would be helpful.

  “So we passed?”

  “Yes, and I’ll note in the records that this might have been some kind of nuisance call. We at the Department of Health take our work very seriously. People’s health is at stake. We can’t afford to have our limited resources wasted with this sort of prank.”

  Michelle smiled. “I think I know who did it. I’m going to have a little talk with her.

  She shook hands with Mr. Vaughn, then made her way back to the front of the inn.

  Ellen was still there, sitting on the sofa. She looked toward Michelle as she entered. Apparently Michelle’s satisfaction showed on her face, because there wasn’t any smiling and winking now.

  Michelle walked up to Ellen.

  “Hey,” she said. “Thanks for calling in the complaint. Now the Department of Health loves us and thinks you’re an idiot. I kind of like that.”

  Ellen stood, her blue eyes sharp with annoyance. “Be careful, Michelle. You don’t want me against you.”

  “You already are. I nearly bought the whole ‘let’s be friends’ thing. You’re good—I’ll give you credit for that. I don’t know how much of this game is about what happened in high school and how much of it is you think you can get this prime waterfront property for cheap. Let me address both points.”

  She found it difficult not to smile. Yelling at people was fun.

  “On the high-school front. Grow up. It was years ago. Get a life and move on. As to the property, that so isn’t going to happen. I’m current with my loan. We’re doing better than expected, so I can pay off even more of the principle. Maybe consolidate the loans. Probably not with your bank, though.”

  “There are other considerations,” Ellen snarled.

  “Those silly rules? I have it on good authority you can’t do that.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Michelle, don’t get involved in things you don’t understand.”

  “Like banking? Rules of disclosure and loan modification? You’re right. I should stay out of that. But I think it’s time I found a good lawyer to go over everything. Carly’s in deep with the island’s Women of Business association. At least one of them should be able to give me a recommendation. Maybe somebody tight with your bank’s board.”

  “That’s not going to change anything,” Ellen told her, but Michelle had a feeling the other woman was more nervous than she let on.

  “You should probably go now,” Michelle said.

  Ellen turned on her heel and left.

  Michelle watched her go, then reached down to pat Chance. “We’re a very weird species.”

  He leaned his head against her thigh, as if to say he wasn’t one to judge.

  * * *

  Carly dug into the warm, rich soil of the inn’s garden. With beautiful flowers came weeds, she thought, pulling one out by the roots and tossing it onto the growing pile on the lawn. Perhaps gardening could be a metaphor for life, she thought happily. Do a little digging and get rid of everything that’s bothering you.

  Chance lay next to her, stretched out on the grass. The sun was warm, the morning quiet. It was going to be a good day.

  “Carly!”

  The call came from the other side of the inn, but the voice was distinctive. So much for a good day, Carly thought, sitting back on her heels and watching her mother approach.

  So far they’d talked about everything unimportant. The weather, shopping, her mother and Frank’s travel plans for the rest of the year. But except for Carly’s attempt to find out what Lana had been thinking when she’d left, they’d avoided anything too personal.

  Probably better that way, Carly told herself. Some things couldn’t be fixed.

  Her mother dropped to the grass beside her and patted Chance. “We’re all packed up and ready to go. Frank’s saying goodbye to Michelle right now. If it’s all right with you, we’ll swing by Gabby’s day camp on the way out of town.”

  “Sure,” Carly said, hoping her relief at the news didn’t show. “I’ll call them and let them know it’s okay for you to see her.”

  “Thanks.” Her mother sighed. “This has been wonderful. Reconnecting like this. Frank and I should have come back years ago. Of course, there would have been problems with Brenda. She’s not one to forgive and forget.”

  “You two were so close,” Carly said. “Did you miss her when you left?”

  Lana shrugged. “I suppose. We were friends. Brenda was difficult, though. She only thought about herself. She never worried about hurting anyone around her. I was always the sensitive one, worrying about others.” Lana smiled.

  Yes, Carly thought. Abandoning one’s only child to run off with a lover showed tremendous worry. “Yes, there was deep concern.”

  “I’m glad we got everything straightened out.”

  So much for sarcasm, Carly thought, not sure whether to laugh or surrender to the madness.

  Lana leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We were thinking of coming back for Thanksgiving.”

  “Lucky us.”

  “I’ll miss you,” her mother said, hugging her. “Be good.”

  “The best.”

  Then Lana was gone.

  Carly attacked a few more weeds, pulling them out by the roots, finding the task even more satisfying than before. She waited for a sense of regret or loss, but there was only the knowledge that she had everything she needed already. A relationship with her mom would be nice, but not necessary.

  She reached the end of the bed and was about to head to the next one when a familiar car from the sheriff’s office pulled in front of the inn.

  Sam.

  Carly turned to watch him approach, taking in the long, easy stride, the broad shoulders and sexy grace. She remembered that body from their lone but very powerful sexual encounter. Maybe she’d been a bit too hasty saying they should take things slowly. Maybe she could get a sitter for Gabby and have a fun-filled evening with the man in his new apartment. You know, take things to the next level.

  “Hi,” she called, shifting into a sitting position and shading her eyes against the sun.

  “Carly.”

  Sam walked over, greeted Chance, then plopped down across from her on the grass.

  “How’s it going?” she asked. “You must be relieved the big holiday week is over. Now you can have it relatively easy until Labor Day.”

  “There’s no easy with tourists in town.” He dropped his hat to the grass and ran his hands through his hair. “I saw your folks pulling out.”

  “Yes, they’re leaving.”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  “Better than okay.”

  He grinned. “Good. I was thinking you and Gabby might want to go to the movies with me tomorrow night.”

  She laughed. “We just might.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

  The movies would be fun, she thought. And later this week, she would look into the whole sitter idea and have her way with the handsome man in front of her.

  * * *

  The picnic tables in the park were well spaced and shaded. Evening sun drifted through the leaves and sparkled on the water. Boats bobbed in the marina. The main pier was home to benches for those who wanted to fish or just watch the activities and provided access to many of the tour boats. To the left of that was a shorter dock the intrepid used to dive into the chilly water of the Sound. Gabby and Chance strolled along the boardwalk, the dog keeping careful watch on the girl.

  Michelle packed up the last of their trash and stuffed it in the picnic basket. She’d been the one to suggest the relaxing dinner away from the inn. They’d collected leftovers from Helen’s kitchen and walked over.

  “This is nice,” Michelle said.

  Carly nodded. “I agree. We should do this more. Get away
from everything.”

  “Even Sam?”

  Carly sighed. “No, but he’s working.”

  “So I’m your second choice.”

  “I’m not fighting with you.”

  “Why not? It’s fun.”

  Carly shook her head. “You’re really twisted. You know that, right?”

  “Trust me, I’m clear on my issues.”

  As Michelle spoke, Carly checked on her daughter’s progress down the boardwalk. Gabby and Chance had stopped to talk to a couple of tourists. They were too far away for Carly to hear all the conversation, but a few words drifted to her on the marine breeze. The older couple laughed and patted Chance while Gabby danced in place. They looked up and saw Carly, then waved a greeting.

  “Look at her,” Carly said, letting the love for her daughter wash over her. “She’s growing so fast and she’s blossoming. You helped so much, showing her not to be afraid.”

  “That was nothing.”

  “It was a lot to her. She’s starting to be more brave. I think watching you heal has been a big lesson.”

  Michelle grimaced. “I’m far from perfect.”

  “You don’t have to be perfect to be a good parent.”

  “I’m not her parent.”

  “No. But you’re a very nice second best.”

  Michelle laughed.

  Carly glanced toward Gabby, then frowned when she saw her daughter and Chance had walked onto the shorter dock.

  “Gabby,” she yelled, moving toward her. Although the wooden structure only jutted out about twenty feet into the Sound, there were no railings. Nothing to stop her daughter from falling in.

  Michelle came after her. “Should she be out there? Why isn’t there a railing? Can she swim?”

  “No, she can’t.”

  One of the cranes landed on the dock, just in front of Gabby. The girl stopped and stared at the bird. Even Chance was quiet beside her. Gabby stretched out her hand. The bird hopped away. Gabby laughed and turned to Chance, at the same time, taking a step back.

  For Carly, it was one of those horrible moments when the inevitable became possible and time slowed. She knew exactly what was going to happen—lived it a thousand times before it really occurred.

  Gabby was already too close to the edge of the dock. She shifted her weight to the foot hanging over nothing. Carly screamed, but like in a nightmare, the sound was captured and dissipated. Gabby’s weight slowly shifted. Her arms came up as she tried to find her balance. Chance turned and lunged toward her. Carly ran faster, harder.

  They were all too late. Gabby tipped to the side and plunged into the cold, dark water.

  “No!” Carly screamed, her heart pounding against her ribs. She couldn’t catch her breath but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her daughter.

  Chance jumped right after Gabby fell, paddling toward the small head that bobbed to the surface. A distant cry for help cut through the quiet evening. Several people turned, not sure of what they’d heard.

  Carly ignored it all. She ran across the boardwalk and onto the dock only to slam to a halt as she stared down at the swirling hell below.

  Her heart still thundering, her lungs desperate for air, her whole body surging forward, she froze, unable to move. Water. She couldn’t go in the water. Couldn’t swim, couldn’t defeat the numbing fear that grasped her and refused to let go.

  She saw Gabby, arms flailing, crying out, coughing. Chance reached her and grabbed the back of her shirt in his teeth and started paddling for the shore some twenty feet away. But even as he dragged her, her face went underwater. Carly screamed.

  There was a blur of movement beside her. Michelle dived into the water, surfacing seconds later close to Chance and Gabby. She reached for the girl.

  Carly turned and ran back down the dock. She bumped into people as she went, strangers who had collected to watch. A few people were preparing to jump in. She made it onto the boardwalk, then down to the boat ramp where Michelle was headed, Gabby safely in her arms, Chance swimming beside them.

  Carly felt the tears on her face, but they were nothing when compared with the shame and fear. Her daughter could have died because of her. Drowned and she couldn’t have done anything to stop it.

  She dropped to her knees, sobs shuddering through her. Then small, thin, wet arms grasped her so hard she couldn’t breathe.

  “Gabby.”

  “Mom, Mom, Mom.”

  They clung to each other, both shaking, both crying. Aware of how lucky she’d been, she hung on to her daughter and vowed she would never let go.

  Thirty-Four

  “I’m sorry,” Carly whispered, her hands still trembling as she clutched the small glass of brandy she held.

  “I’m officially bored now,” Michelle told her from her place on the sofa in Carly’s living room. “You’ve either thanked me or apologized about fifteen thousand times. Can we please change the subject?”

  Carly nodded, knowing there weren’t words to make herself feel better. She loved her daughter more than anyone in the world and still she’d failed her. When Gabby had needed her most, she’d been unable to be there.

  “Stop it,” Michelle said abruptly. “Beating yourself up over and over again isn’t going to help either of you. Gabby is fine. She was barely coughing when I pulled her out, so she didn’t swallow much water. She was a little wet and cold. She fell asleep in thirty seconds. She’s fine.”

  “Because you saved her.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “You really are tiresome.”

  “I let her down. She could have died.”

  “She didn’t. If I hadn’t jumped in, someone else would have. But if you’re that shaken, then damn well learn to swim.”

  Carly thought about pointing out she was terrified of the water. That it had frightened her for as long as she could remember. But Michelle knew that already.

  “You don’t have to be an Olympic swimmer,” her friend told her. “You just have to know how to doggie paddle around. Whether or not you learn, Gabby needs to. She lives a hundred yards from the Sound.”

  “You’re right,” Carly whispered. “About all of it.”

  “Being right.” Michelle leaned back against the cushions and sighed. “That never gets old.”

  Despite everything, Carly smiled. Then she thought about getting into a pool and her stomach flipped over a couple of times. She put down the brandy glass.

  Chance lay on the carpet at Michelle’s feet. He’d been washed off, dried and then given an extra-big dog treat.

  “He was amazing,” Carly said.

  “He has depths,” Michelle said, rubbing his side with her bare foot. His tail thumped against the floor, but his eyes never opened. “I can’t believe how far he’s come in such a short period of time. I guess he was just waiting to find where he belongs.”

  “I’m glad you’re keeping him.”

  “He’s the best chance I have at a decent relationship with a guy.”

  “Maybe I should get a dog,” Carly murmured. She looked at Michelle. “I—”

  Michelle glared at her. “Don’t.”

  Carly pressed her lips together. She had been about to thank her again. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said instead. “That you came back and we’re working together.” She realized Michelle was sipping brandy. “Wait a minute. Is it okay for you to drink?”

  Michelle held up the glass. “I think so. I’m testing myself. My breakdown wasn’t because of the alcohol. That was just a symptom of everything else that’s wrong. Of course, if I start coming unglued again, we’ll both know I’m wrong.”

  Carly thought about all they’d gone through since Michelle had come home. “If you start coming unglued again I’m having you committed.”

  “Nice. And I’m the one who saved your kid. Not much of a thank-you, if you ask me.”

  Carly laughed. “You didn’t have to deal with yourself.”

  “I’ll concede that point and little else.” She put the glass down.
There was still brandy in it. “I don’t want any more. I think that’s a good sign. You going to be okay?”

  Carly wasn’t sure but she nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Liar. Still, we’re going to test the theory, too. I’m heading home. I’m beat.”

 

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