by Marie Force
He’d pictured her here, planned to bring her home sometime this summer. Up until now, he’d kept her a secret from his family because he knew how his mother got her hopes up at the first sign of a girlfriend. His siblings falling in love one after the other had bought him some time to keep his relationship private for that much longer.
Sasha… Adam hated himself for missing her, for wondering if she missed him or had regrets about what she’d done. He hated himself for thinking about the apartment they’d shared or what would become of all the things they’d bought together, back when they still planned a life together. Three whole days ago.
Who cared about wineglasses or sofas? He’d cared about her and had thought she felt the same. That was the part that truly galled him—how he could’ve lived with, slept with, made love with and worked with a woman who cared so little in the end that she could slide a knife in his back without a thought about all they’d shared.
“You cooking that steak or killing the cow all over again?”
Big Mac’s voice brought Adam back to the present, where he discovered he was jabbing the barbeque fork methodically into the steak.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you told me earlier,” Big Mac said. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, son.”
His dad had promised to keep the story to himself until Adam was ready to share his news with the rest of the family. “Shit happens.”
“Shit like this doesn’t happen. You got screwed, and what I’ve been wanting to know since you told me is what you’re planning to do about it.”
Adam flipped the steaks and stepped back from the smoke. “Nothing.”
“You’re just going to let go of the company you founded from the ground up?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Big Mac leaned against the rail, arms crossed, beer in hand. “Why?”
Back in the day, Adam would’ve wilted under the intensity of that stare. “Because I don’t care enough to fight for it.”
“You don’t care enough about the business you gave fourteen years of blood and sweat and tears to?”
“Nope.”
“I refer to my original question. Why?”
“I told you.”
“Stop the bullshit and tell me the truth.”
“It was a sign.”
“Of?”
“That it’s time for a change. In more ways than one.”
“And what will this change entail?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“If you need a job, you can work at the marina.”
Adam smiled at his dad. “I appreciate the offer, but the good news in all of this is they owe me a shit ton of money that they have sixty days to pay me. After that, I can do whatever I want.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t know yet. I’m assuming I’ll figure that out.” Adam looked at his dad. “Don’t tell, Mom, okay? She’s upset enough about the accident. I don’t want to give her more to worry about.”
“I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I won’t.”
“I’m already sorry I told you because I can tell you’re fretting over it.”
“Fretting is part of my job description as your dear old dad.” Big Mac wrapped a tree-trunk arm around Adam’s neck and hugged him. “We’ll get you through this, buddy.”
Adam didn’t dare say a word, so he nodded and held on tight to the man who’d been his rock. “Thanks, Dad.” When his dad released him, Adam looked inside and saw Carolina Cantrell come into the kitchen with Seamus O’Grady’s arm around her. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Carolina…dating him?”
“Who?”
“Seamus?”
Big Mac looked and then looked closer. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Nothing this awesome ever happens in New York,” Adam said, laughing. “Carolina looks like she’s being tortured.”
“He seems pretty pleased with himself, doesn’t he?”
“Seriously. I saw Janey earlier, and she never mentioned this.” Adam stacked the cooked steaks on a platter that he handed to his dad.
“Apparently, your mother has been holding out on me,” Big Mac said. “What do you say we go inside and get the dirt?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you anyway.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Big Mac smiled. “You’ve been away from home a long time. A few weeks here might be just what you need to get your legs under you again and to figure out what’s next.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Don’t stay out here by yourself too long. There’s a whole houseful of people in there who love you and would do anything for you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
When he was alone, Adam grabbed a beer from the cooler and cracked it open, taking it with him as he wandered to the rail that surrounded the big deck. The sun was setting over the Salt Pond as he looked down upon the hotel and marina, filled with memories of summers spent on the docks or rolling down the hill at the hotel with his siblings.
Those had been good times. The best of times. Like his brothers, he’d yearned for a life away from the confines of the island where they’d been raised. However, like them, he’d learned the real world could be a cold, hard place. There was nothing cold or hard about Gansett Island. Rather, it was a soft place to land while he figured out what he planned to do with the rest of his life now that he no longer had to consider the business that had defined him for most of his adult life or the woman he’d hoped to spend the rest of that life with.
Just as he had the thought, his phone chimed with a text message. Used to being chained to his phone around the clock, he thought about ignoring it. But curiosity got the better of him, and he withdrew it from the pocket of his shorts. He couldn’t believe it when he saw it was from Sasha.
I’m so sorry, Adam. I made a mistake. Can we talk? I miss you and I love you. Please?
Adam wished he’d gone with his first instinct to ignore the text. She loved him? She sure had a strange way of showing it. He wanted to write back and say that, but he refrained. Let her suffer the way she’d made him suffer for days now. It had probably only registered with her that she was royally screwed without him to handle the technical end of the business, so naturally she was trying to make amends.
Too little, too late, he decided as he deleted the text and her name from his list of contacts. He had nothing left to say to her. If only it was that easy to erase the memory of her from his heart and mind.
“Son?” his dad said from inside. “Are you coming in to eat?”
Adam realized he was starving—for dinner and the company of his loving, if often exasperating, family. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
Chapter 6
Sitting at the McCarthy’s dining room table with Seamus’s chair far too close to hers, Carolina had trouble swallowing her food. Taking her relationship public was one thing. Doing it here was another thing altogether. She’d helped to raise Janey and her siblings, and the shock on the faces of Mac, Adam and Big Mac had been mortifying. Thankful for small favors, she was glad Evan and Grant hadn’t made it to dinner, but she was certain they’d hear her news before the day was out.
Apparently, Linda had refrained from telling anyone—even her husband—the news Carolina had shared earlier in the day. Thus Carolina’s inability to eat or breathe or make eye contact with the young people who’d been a part of her life since her son Joe befriended Mac McCarthy in kindergarten. What would they think of her now? The woman who’d stayed with them when their parents went on vacation, who’d shared holidays, birthdays, graduations and other milestones with them? Now she was sleeping with a man their age.
Her skin felt hot and tight, and her throat closed, making it impossible to eat anything. She put down her fork and dabbed at her lips with her napkin.
“Carolina?” Mad
die said from across the table. “Are you all right?”
Immediately, Seamus turned to her, and his eyes widened. “What is it, love?
Carolina couldn’t seem to speak or get enough air to her lungs.
“She’s having an allergic reaction,” Janey said, getting up as quickly as she could.
“Linda,” Grace said, “get some allergy medicine. Hurry.”
“Carolina!” Seamus said. “Say something, love. You’re scaring me.”
“Mom!” Joe cried as he rushed around the table to her.
Janey came around the table where everyone but Caro was now standing. “Give her some room.” She pushed through the group, dipped a napkin into a glass of ice water and ran it over Carolina’s face.
The cold water on her heated skin felt heavenly.
“You’re okay, Caro. Try to breathe.”
Carolina focused on her daughter-in-law’s blue eyes and drew shallow breaths into her lungs.
“That’s it.”
Linda returned with the medication. “I only have the liquid kind.”
“That’s better,” Grace said. “She’ll be able to get it down easier.”
Carolina continued to focus on Janey as she swallowed the liquid that brought immediate relief to the tightness in her throat.
“What are those red splotches on her face and neck?” Seamus asked.
“Hives,” Janey said.
Mortified to be the center of attention, Carolina cleared her throat and took a couple of greedy breaths. “I’m fine, everyone. Sorry about that.”
“What do you think caused it, Caro?” Linda asked, hovering close by.
“I have no idea. I’ve never had hives before.” By now her skin was beginning to itch. “I think I’d like to go home, if that’s all right.”
“Of course, honey,” Linda said. “Take the medicine with you in case you need more during the night.”
“I have some at home.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Joe asked.
“No, honey. I’m all right.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t be seen by David?” Joe asked.
“No need. I’m really fine.”
Joe nodded and kissed her cheek. “Okay, then. I’ll call you in the morning to check on you.”
“I’m so sorry about this,” Carolina said. She turned to Adam. “Sorry to ruin your welcome-home dinner.”
“You didn’t,” he said, giving her a hug. “No worries. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
Carolina received hugs from Joe, Janey, Big Mac and Linda on the way out the door. Seamus held the car door for her and waited until she was settled to get into the driver’s side.
“You scared the life out of me in there, love.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“I have a few thoughts about what happened.”
Caro looked over at him, surprised to realize he was angry. “Like what?”
“I think you were so freaked out about being there with me that you broke out in hives.” This was said as he pulled the car away from the curb in front of the McCarthy’s house.
She had no idea how to respond to that. “It was something I ate.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was Mac and Adam and Maddie and Grace seeing us as a couple for the first time and you stewing over what they had to be thinking of you cavorting with a much younger man. That’s what caused it.”
“How can you say that? Since when has acute embarrassment ever caused hives?”
“So you admit you were acutely embarrassed. That’s great.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Yes, you did. Have you ever gotten the hives from eating steak or potatoes or salad before? Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for getting hives!”
“I can’t believe you’re denying that you worked yourself into a nervous frenzy that resulted in hives.”
Since Caro couldn’t deny that she’d done exactly that, she didn’t try. Rather, she kept quiet on the rest of the ride. She was too itchy and uncomfortable to fight with him anyway. When they arrived at her house, he went directly to the bathroom and turned on the tub.
“Do you have any oatmeal?” he asked when he returned to the kitchen.
“I think so. Why?”
“It’ll help with the itching. Put it in the bathwater.” He stood rigidly in the middle of her kitchen, seemingly making an effort to avoid looking at her.
As Caro retrieved the container of oats from the cabinet, she noticed her hands were trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was residual shock from the attack or worries of a different kind.
“I’m going to go,” he said.
She spun around to face him. “Where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere else. When you work this stuff out in your head, love, call me. Until then, I don’t want to cause you any more distress.”
“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go.”
“It means a lot that you want me to stay, but I can’t do this. I can’t convince you to come to grips with this situation with the force of my personality or charm you into wanting what I want. You have to figure that out for yourself.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “When you do, if you do, call me.”
“You’re not being fair to me.”
“Maybe not, but I’m being fair to me. And right now that’s what I need to do. If you feel sick again, call Joe.” He turned and headed for the door.
“Seamus! Wait! Can’t we talk about this?”
The screen door slammed shut behind him as he walked out, the gravel driveway crunching under his feet as he made his way to the company truck he used on the island. After he drove away, Caro stared out the window for a long time before she remembered the bath and went to turn off the water.
She sprinkled the oatmeal on top of the water and then stripped off her clothes and slid into the tub. The cool water soothed her burning, itching skin but didn’t do much for the ache in her heart.
Maybe she’d finally succeeded in driving him away for good. As that thought registered, the dam broke and her sobs echoed off the bathroom walls.
Grant sat in the waiting room, hoping to see David Lawrence before he left for the day. His leg bounced up and down, and he couldn’t stop biting his nails. The childhood habit he’d long ago kicked had resurfaced as a source of comfort in the last week. At this point, he’d take any comfort he could get. He also needed sleep, which was why he’d come to the clinic after regular hours, hoping to catch David before he left for the day.
He couldn’t go through another night like last night. The racing of his brain, the images he’d never forget, the fear, the horror, the shock… It tormented his waking and sleeping hours, and he’d give anything for some relief.
The doors that led to the examination rooms swung open, and Victoria Stevens, the nurse practitioner who worked with David, came through on her way out. She had her purse and car keys in hand, but she stopped short when she saw him in the waiting room.
“Grant? What’re you doing here?”
“I’d like to see David, if he’s got a minute.”
“He’s done seeing patients today. Could you come back in the morning? I’m sure he’d sneak you in—”
“I need to see him today. Now.”
Victoria took a measuring look at him. “Let me check with him. I’ll be right back.”
While he waited, Grant paced the small room, worried about what he’d do if David refused to see him or worse yet, refused to give him something that would knock him out for a few hours. He needed to be knocked out, and nothing he’d tried on his own had worked.
Victoria returned. “Grant? Come on back.”
He held back a whimper of relief as he followed her down the hallway to David’s office.
“Hey, Grant,” David said, gesturing to his visitor chair. A stack of folders and paper littered the desk. “Come in and have a seat.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Victoria asked.
“That’s okay,” David said.
“I’ll see you in the morning. Bye, Grant.”
“See you.”
David sat back in his chair. “What’s up?”
Grant stared at the man who would’ve been his brother-in-law had he not cheated on Janey a year before they were supposed to be married. Grant had known him a long time, and if there’d been any choice of seeing another doctor, he would’ve chosen anonymity over this. But on Gansett Island, there was no other choice. David was the only doctor.
“Grant? Is everything all right?”
“I need something to help me sleep.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not sleeping, and even when I’m technically sleeping, I’m still aware and half-awake, and I’m tired all the time. If I could just get some sleep, some real sleep, I’d be a lot better.”
“What’s keeping you awake?”
“How the hell do I know? I feel like I’m amped up or something, like I’ve had a whole pot of coffee when I haven’t had any.”
David stood up and signaled for Grant to follow him into an exam room.
“Can’t you just give me something and call it a day?”
“I need to check your heart and blood pressure as well as your other vital signs.”
Grant sighed—deeply—as he sat on the exam table, forcing himself to remain still while David listened to his heart and checked his blood pressure and pulse.
“Your pulse is a little fast, but otherwise, you’re good.”
“So you’ll give me the stuff to sleep?”
David sat on a stool. “Tell me why your mind is racing. What do you see when you close your eyes?”
It was the one question Grant couldn’t answer. He simply couldn’t put words to the horror. So he shook his head. “Nothing, really. But I can’t seem to shut down and sleep. I really need to sleep.”
“You look awful.”
“So I hear.”
“I’ll give you a script for seven days of sleep medication. After that, though, you’re going to have to talk about what happened if you want to stop reliving it every minute you’re awake or asleep.”