Family Secrets: Books 5-8

by Virginia Kantra

  When she next looked around, the bell room was tidy as a pin and everything she had brought with her was stuffed into one bag or the other. She wondered if she could talk Joe into a quick romp on that sofa again before they actually set sail. She also wanted to explore the fore cabin. Then, still in her bathing suit and skirt, she headed downstairs.

  Happy hour in the big room was in full swing. It took a woman a lot of time, Honey realized, to decide if the things she owned were essential or not.

  There were some conspicuous absences tonight. Jake and Tara had gone. And, not coincidentally, so had the fed types. Jimmy Robinson limped over to hug her.

  Hows my favorite cause for concern? he asked over her head during the brief moment she was in his arms.

  Still concerning. Honey grinned, then she saw Marcus over Jimmys shoulder. He was frowning at her. Something else she had to fix, Honey thought, before she could leave in good conscience.

  She disengaged herself from her brothers swim buddy and crossed to him. He looked wary. She framed his face and kissed him square on the mouth.

  He jerked back, alarmed. What was that, a kiss of death?

  No, Im saving that one in case you ever do such a thing again. She kept his face in her hands. You were always the only one who didnt buy up all my Girl Scout cookies. Please dont change on me now.

  You never eavesdropped on private conversations before.

  To your knowledge, she corrected. I caught that whole thing between you and Mary Beth Singer in your bedroom when you were seventeen.

  It made him smile. Big deal. I didnt score.

  You tried hard enough. Which just goes to prove what I said at the quarry earlier. People in glass houses

  Oh, shut up, he growled.

  You just hate being wrong, dont you?

  Its my super-blood.

  Does it preclude apologizing?

  He looked miserable. No. Im sorry.

  Okay, then Ill give back a little as well. She leaned close to his ear. Joe isnt just a fling.

  Joe who?

  My drifter. He makes me happy, Marcus. He lets me be whole instead of fractured into a handful of different personalities for different people who demand different things from me.

  Whatever that means.

  Yes, I know, its complicated. But dont worry. Please dont worry. Okay?

  I cant give you that. Im your big brother.

  No, she thought, he wouldnt stop worrying about her. It was as much a part of his nature as slinging boulders apparently was.

  People began moving toward the hall and to the dining room. Dinner was quiet, sedate. With Jimmy and her parents and Drew present, no one spoke of the Coalition. Jimmy repeated stories from his and Marcuss days with the navy SEALs. Honey felt the conversation flow around her.

  She didnt join everyone back in the big room after theyd eaten. She slipped upstairs.

  She spent the time until dark writing her notes and thinking of the logistics of running away. She cracked her checkbook again. It was healthy, but how long would it last supporting two people? Shed contact her accountant, she decided, at the first port they came to and have him move some of her trust fund into the account. Then she also wrote a letter of resignation to the White House and tucked that into her note for Carey, adding a P.S. that her friend please pass it on to the appropriate party.

  At nine oclock, it was full dark. Honey gathered up her two small bags and crept down the back stairs. Why wait until midnight? If she could somehow catch his attention and get him to bring the dinghy to shore, they could leave earlier. She wanted to be gone. She wanted to be free. Patience had never been her strong suit.

  When she reached the kitchen door, she opened it barely a crack to peer through. Rafaela was still shoving dishes into the dishwasher. Damn, damn, damn. Then Ricardo stepped through the outside door and said something to her in rapid-fire Portuguese. The woman dried her hands quickly on a dish towel and scooted outside after him.

  Theyd need something to celebrate their escape tonight, Honey decided. She crept into the kitchen, to the fridge, and popped it open on a prayer. Bingo! Leftover wedding champagne. She snagged a bottle and tucked it under her arm, not willing to risk the time it would take to get it into one of the bags. Rafaela could come back at any moment.

  She scooted up the stairs again to the second floor and went that way to the front of the house, down again to the strange, sideways hall. She couldnt take a motor bike, she thought as she stepped through the heavy double doors into the night. It would be rude since she couldnt return it this time. Shed already made Ricardo salvage one such abandoned vehicle. So she set out on foot.

  Once she was clear of the house, she paused to stuff the champagne into one of her bags. Thirty-five minutes later, she reached the beach. Her arms ached a little from carrying the suitcases. She dropped both of them to the sand and took in a good, clean breath of sea air.

  Free. She was free. Then she looked out at the water. The Sea Change was gone.

  Gone? Honey frowned, cocked her head and left her bags to move closer to the shoreline. Gone, definitely gone. Then she smacked the palm of her hand to the side of her head. Oh, damn it. You proud, stubborn ass! Hed gone to Portimao early to stock up on supplies. Hed know that if she was with him, shed try to pay for everything. Which she had every intention of doing. She was going to have to work harder at staying one step ahead of him with this money business, she realized. In the meantime, hed beaten her at her own game again.

  Grinning, she went back to her bags and dropped down to sit in the sand and wait. The villages were quiet. The men would be out fishing and the women were probably asleep. They worked so hard during the day. That hadnt escaped her. She wondered what it would be like to be so bone-tired by evening as to be grateful to slide into bed. She wondered what it felt like to know a job had been well done. Someday she would find out, she decided. After theyd sailed for a while.

  She squinted out at the horizon. No sign of pilot lights yet. She couldnt see her watch in the dark, but she figured that it was about ten oclock. Honey sighed.

  She wished Paloma were awake so shed have someone to talk to. Then she started worrying that someone at the big house might discover her missing already. If they did, theyd come right down here looking for her again. She didnt want a confrontation. She wanted to leave everyone just as she had at dinner, with smiles on their faces.

  Honey stood and gathered up her bags again, moving off for the tree line. She found a small copse with a tiny clearing inside and settled down there. If they came looking for her now, they wouldnt find her unless she sneezed or something and drew their attention.

  Time crawled. Her mind wandered. She started to doze sitting up, then jerked herself awake. How long could it take to stock up on supplies in Portimao? Damn it, she needed to see her watch. Honey stripped her sandals off and left her hidey-hole to go back to the beach. There was still a fire alive on the sand in front of Deus Fornece, mostly embers by now, but still. Honey set off in that direction. When she reached the first one, she dropped to her knees and held her wrist out to the meager light.

  Midnight? Honey surged to her feet again and whipped around to look out at the gulf. Joe still wasnt there.


  What was going on?

  Boat trouble, she thought. Maybe hed gotten over there to the mainland and had been unable to get back. At the idea that she could be stuck here in her old life for another day or longer, her skin tightened over her muscles. She went back to her spot in the trees and sat down again to wait.

  A while later she went back to the village. This time she thought to break a branch off one of the trees first. She used it to stir up the embers and focused on the time. Two oclock.

  Boat trouble, she said again. No one awake to fix it in Portimao in the middle of the night. Except how many times had she seen him repairing the islanders motors? He had tools on board.

  Something was wrong.

  Honey moved slowly for the copse again. Suddenly she was exquisitely aware of a thousand sensations. It was as if her every nerve ending was alive and primed and anxious. She felt the cool sand squeeze up between her toes with each step. The night breeze tickled her nape where shed tucked her hair to the side to lean over the fire. She licked her lips. They tasted salty from all the hours she had been sitting here at the beach.

  Something was wrong.

  She collected her bags from the copse again. When he finally arrived, she wanted to be somewhere where he could immediately see her. She was going to kick his ass. She headed for the shoreline again and sat there.

  She thought about going to check the time again but she knew it was getting to the point where she wouldnt be able to get light out of those coals with an atom bomb. She dug into her bag for the champagne. Celebration. She realized that her heart was chugging slowly and thickly now. There wasnt going to be one.

  Something was wrong.

  She worked at the wire netting and popped the cork. When the champagne foamed up, she put the bottle to her mouth to catch it. Not quite as sweet as Palomas nectar, but then, Palomas nectar wouldnt pack the punch she needed right now.

  Hed left without her.

  Disbelief was a strange thing, she discovered, swigging from the bottle. It started out like a prickly feeling of alarm just under your skin. Then your skin went dead and numb. Like paralysis, the sensation spread. Into visceral parts, snaring, gripping in a cold fist.

  Her heart was the last to go. When the spread of coldness got there, she groaned aloud. Hed left without her. He didnt want her either.

  Hed been her last, best chance and Joe didnt want to let her in either.

  Her eyes stung. She drank more champagne because Honey Evans didnt cry. Why had he left without her? Honey hugged the bottle to her chest and closed her eyes. Because, she thought, wit and smiles werent enough. They didnt count. She had them by the bushelful and people merely tolerated her. They watched over her. They arranged for her. But they never reached out to her for her grit. They reached out to the Careys of the world for that. Not to women who called themselves Honey.

  She polished off the last of the champagne. Shed stood up for Carey once, against Matt, she remembered. Shed been a good friend. I have grit, she whispered aloud. Then she lay down in the sand and dozed.

  When she felt hands grip her shoulder, the sun was high and hot and searing her face. Honeys eyes flew open and she realized disgustedly that her tongue was more or less cleaved to the roof of her mouth. She was still cosseting the champagne bottle against her breasts. She forced her eyes to focus and saw Paloma leaning over her.

  Senhora, what is this?

  Honey sat up. She dropped the champagne bottle and dug her fingers into her hair to shake the sand out. What time is it?

  Que hore e ele? The woman motioned at her watch.

  Yeah, stupid question, Honey thought, and glanced at it. It was nearly eleven-thirty in the morning.

  She looked out to sea. Still no Sea Change. And no one from the big house had come looking for her, either. She let out a bark of hoarse laughter at that. Well, I guess this tells me something.

  No compreenda what you say, my friend.

  Its okay. Dont worry about it. Self-pity stirred in her again, as it had last night. But this time it wasnt fueled by champagne. It started out meek and writhing, then it blasted through her. Ill be damned. Ive been dumped. By everybody.

  Paloma followed her gaze out to the empty cove. Senhor Sailor is gone. This is why you are unhappy?

  Honey glanced over at her. Did you happen to notice when he left?

  Sim, yes. Before the men go out last night.

  The fishermen always left just before dusk. Hed left that early? Honey scrolled back in her mind to yesterday afternoonthen her mind staggered. Marcus. What had Marcus said to Joe? Had he flung around more boulders, maybe a couple of huts and trees, warning what he would do to any man who touched his baby sister? Another laugh escaped her throat, this one thin and edging toward hysteria.

  Senhora, you are okay? Paloma asked.

  No. She swallowed hard on the giggle. No, Im not okay at all.

  She needed to be furious at Marcus, Honey thought. If she could just find some really good blazing anger somewhere inside her, she would be okay now. But it wasnt there. Because if Joe had known her, had really known her, nothing Marcus might have said to him would have made a difference.

  I did love him, she said aloud. Her whole body jerked with the words, trying to avoid them, but she couldnt quite shake the truth.

  Senhor Sailor? Paloma asked. Yes, I saw that.

  Honey cut a look at her again out of the corner of her eye. Youre a wise woman.

  He love you, too.

  Maybe not so wise after all. He dumped me.

  We have not much to do here but work and love and read faces. I know.

  He left without me. We were going to drop out together.

  Drop out? This means what?

  Trading in a less-than-satisfactory life for another.

  It is that easy where you come from?

  I thought it was.

  Why you want to do that?

  This time Honey looked at her fully. So I could finally be worth something, even if it was just paying for his supplies. She stood up. Ive got to go back to the house now.

  What will you do? About Senhor Sailor?

  That stopped her just as she reached for her bags. Honey thought about it. I dont need JoeJoe She trailed off, suddenly stunned. She didnt even know his last name. How could she love someone when she didnt even know his last name?

  Because hed opened things up inside her, she thought. Because hed let her be herself, without expecting anything back at all.

  Joe who? Paloma asked.

  Senhor Sailor.

  His name is not Joe.

  Honey frowned. Of course, it is.

  His name is Max.

  Max? Honey stared at the woman for a long time. Then the laughter that rocked through her this time came o
ut strong and fierce. Oh, that was priceless. Hed even lied about who he was.

  Then again, so had she. And somehow that only made the whole thing between them seem more right.

  Well, whoever the hell he is, I dont need him with me to start over. And maybe, she thought, maybe some year down the line, she would actually be able to forget about him. Honey hefted her bags again. Thanks.

  For what? The woman seemed startled.

  For listening to me.

  She headed back to the big house.

  Twelve

  T he first wave of the days departures were spilling out the doorher mother, father, Drew, and Jimmy Robinsonwhen she approached the house. She hesitated on the road, dredging for the piss-and-vinegar that would allow her to explain why she was coming up from the beach at midday with two suitcases in tow. No witty repartee came to mind.

  She felt hollowed out. She had the sense that this emptiness was merciful. She had a hunch that it was going to wear off eventually and then the aching would start. But at the moment she had a more immediate problem. Her family was loaded up in the wagon and Ricardo was snapping his reins over the team of mules to start them toward the road. Honey sighed and stepped back into the woods to hide out again.

  This is getting old, she murmured aloud.

  As she waited, her mind limped back to Joe. She scrubbed her hands over her face. Why couldnt she just have gotten laid like a normal person without all this baggage?

  The wagon passed by. Her mothers mouth was set into the kind of line that said there was a world of emotion swirling inside her, but she was damned if she was going to let one drop of it out, Honey thought. Her father looked a little pale. Drew was talking earnestly. His voice came to her but she couldnt make out his words over the clatter of the wagon wheels. Jimmy looked stoically straight ahead, trying politely to ignore the conversation.