by T. A. Foster
“Only if you think we can both fit, dry off, and get dressed before these shrimp are finished.”
He shook his head. “Probably not.” He gripped the handles on the crutches and started for the door. “We’re really going to finish this dinner?”
“Yes. We really are. And you’re doing great.”
“Don’t know how much longer I can put up with it.” He took a few lunges forward.
I watched as he re-entered the deck and started small talk with Taylor. I had to give him credit. He was trying harder than I had ever seen him. It made my heart melt.
The rest of dinner was surprisingly calm. Taylor and I told Carolina stories. Our favorite was about a third roommate who tried to move into our dorm room our sophomore year even after all our stuff had been unpacked. That poor girl was homeless for a week before the housing department found a place to put her.
When the last shrimp was peeled, Mason stood and started loading bowls and plates into his arms.
“You don’t have to do that.” I tried to match his table bussing.
“You did the cooking. Taylor and I can do the cleaning.” He smiled at her, and she immediately began to clear the table.
She giggled. “You and Grey enjoy the deck. We’ll get these done in a flash.”
I shrugged my shoulders and sat in my seat. I waited until they were inside before saying anything to Grey.
“What do you think?” I whispered.
He swirled the last bits of ice in his glass. “My opinion hasn’t changed, but I’m glad they are helping you with the dishes.” He smiled.
“That’s not what I mean.” I turned to make sure they were still busy in the kitchen. “About them. What do you think about them?”
“I don’t know. Taylor’s a sweet girl. She obviously likes him, but I can’t tell if he’s for real or not.”
I thought the same thing. Mason said and did all the right things where Taylor was concerned, but I still couldn’t figure out if he was legitimately interested in her or if he was a two-night stand kind of guy.
I sighed. “At least we salvaged her last night in Padre.”
Grey gripped my leg under the table. “You’re a good friend, Eden. She’s lucky you’re being so understanding.”
The reality was I didn’t have much choice. I couldn’t lose my best friend.
The sliding glass door opened, and Taylor emerged on the deck with a plate of brownies. Mason trailed behind her with ice cream, bowls, and spoons.
He held them up. “We guessed this is dessert.”
“Yep.” I had made the brownies as soon as I got home from work.
He began scooping vanilla ice cream on top of the brownies as Taylor placed one in each bowl. I sat as they served dessert to Grey and me. I kept the sigh to myself. This could all be so different if Mason wasn’t hell-bent on the lawsuit. We could be a happy four-some, swapping jokes, enjoying cocktails and brownies, but instead we were all pretending that life was different from the layers of this moment.
The next morning, I hugged Taylor good-bye in the driveway. Mason was sitting in his convertible, the engine running. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t the one taking her to the airport, but I also never imagined she would have hooked up with Grey’s nemesis. Padre was full of funny surprises.
“Thanks for letting me stay at the Palm for fall break.” She pulled away from the hug.
“Of course.” I wish it hadn’t been such a quick trip. “You can come visit anytime.”
“Do you think you’ll be back home for Christmas?”
My parents and I hadn’t broached the holiday topic yet. Neither had Grey and I. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as we figure it out.” I couldn’t bear to spend the holidays without my family, but I didn’t know what Grey thought about heading to North Carolina for Christmas.
“Maybe I’ll be back sooner than you think.” She turned to smile at Mason. He was fiddling with the radio.
“Maybe.” I hoped she didn’t get hurt. Mason had heartbreaker written all over him.
“Next time maybe only half a pitcher of margaritas at Pete’s.” She laughed.
I groaned. “I’m not ready to face tequila for a while.”
“You’ll have to send me pictures from the wedding. You are going to rock that dress, and Marin will be a beautiful bride.”
I agreed. The wedding was going to be fun—the island event of the year, maybe the decade.
“Ok, I’ll call you when I land in Raleigh.”
“You better.” I smiled. “Fly safely.”
I watched as Mason backed out of the driveway and onto the road. In a few seconds, the car carrying my best friend was a speck in the distance.
Grey balanced himself on the upper deck. “You ok?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. All the homesick feelings I had been keeping at arm’s distance hit me the minute Taylor was gone. Suddenly, I missed crisp fall nights on Franklin Street, trying to finish the crossword in the Daily Tar Heel, and the grilled cheese sandwiches and orangeades from Sutton’s Drug Store we used to get every week. I missed my mom and dad. I missed all of it.
There was no way I could explain it to Grey without hurting his feelings.
“I think I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.” I climbed the stairs to the house and walked to our seaside bedroom.
It was hard to shake the feeling I had just cut the last connection to home.
A week later, I had five reservations on the books. I looked at the spreadsheet I had made. I was determined to get the reservations in the computer and backed up on a server so we weren’t dependent on a spiral notebook.
The snowbird ad was starting to pay off. I was worried at first when I didn’t have a single reservation after the first week that I had wasted my savings, but a few email inquiries rolled in along with phone calls. Five reservations were a start.
I sighed as I saw Mason pull on the door handle and walk into the office. I wasn’t really in the mood for his list of complaints today. Would it be the parking lot striping or the exterior lightbulbs? It looked like he was holding the palm tree key chain.
“Are you checking out?” We didn’t have a set date on our arrangement, but I was still surprised.
“Headed to North Carolina for that boat building meeting. No sense in me taking up your best room.” He placed the palm tree on the desk.
“Oh. Are you still planning on seeing Taylor?”
He smiled. “And what if I said yes?”
Mason was a tricky guy. Reading him was difficult. “I’d say give her a hug for me and have a good time in Chapel Hill.”
“Hmm…all right, I’ll do that.”
“So, you really like her?” I didn’t know if she would appreciate me butting in like this, but curiosity had taken hold.
“What’s not to like? She’s cute, fun, and doesn’t get wrapped up in drama. I don’t see why we can’t keep things going like they are.”
I expected him to walk out, but he sat in his usual spot. I could only guess so he could torture me.
“Did you need something else?” I raised my eyebrows.
He scratched his head. “Yeah, see I can’t figure all this out.”
“What do you mean?”
He paused. “I don’t get it. You. Grey. This decrepit motel. The way everyone on the island loves it. What am I missing, Eden?”
I cut the bullshit and the banter we usually carried out, and stripped it down to the truth. “It’s home, Mason.”
“This isn’t your home, and Grey is holding on to a place owned and run by a man who was dishonest with him his entire life. You’d think he’d want to burn it to the ground.”
“Is this about Pops?” I asked carefully.
“Depends on what you mean.”
“Are you after the Palm for revenge? Tell me, Mason, that that is not what you want.” In my heart, it felt better if he was interested in the millions he could make.
“I’m not after Grey.”
He hung his head. “Can you imagine what my childhood was like?” I sat quietly while he continued. I had no idea where this was headed. “I saw my dad maybe a few times a year. Maybe. And the crazy thing is, I knew where he was. I knew there was another family. I knew he was raising his parentless grandson, and I knew the grandson and I were the same age. Do you know what that does to a boy?”
I shook my head. I had known about Mason’s existence for over a month and still hadn’t reconciled the Pops Grey told me about with the Pops who fathered Mason. It didn’t seem like the same man could devote so much of his life to Grey, while Mason was a secret.
“After his wife died, he could have lived with us. I know he could have. He could have moved us here. My mother would have done anything to have that happen. So would I. What boy doesn’t want to live with his father? Play catch in the yard? See him in the stands at his ballgames? Who doesn’t want that?” I saw a slight mist cover his otherwise bright eyes. “But no, Dad said he couldn’t do that to Grey. He said he had responsibilities with his business, with the island, with his grandson. He broke our hearts.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I felt terrible. “Did you ever talk to him about it?”
“Talk?” Mason scoffed. “I never saw him.”
“Then how do you know all of this? Maybe there was more going on.”
His eyes cut through me. “My mom told me everything. I believe her.”
I had entered dangerous territory, but Mason was the one who had brought it up. “I’m sorry you went through all of that. What about her? Where is your mother now? Maybe you could get some more answers.”
“She died right before Dad did. Her funeral was the last time I saw him. He stayed just long enough for the service and then left right after. He didn’t even stay for the church dinner.” Mason shook his head. “I didn’t even know he was sick. Imagine finding out your father died in a newspaper article.”
“Oh my God. I-I can’t even begin to think how you must have felt. No one should have to go through that, Mason.”
His eyes lifted toward mine. “Grey thinks he needs to hold on to this place because it’s all he has of his Pops.” He sighed. “That’s exactly why I need it gone. I don’t need reminders of Dad.”
My jaw dropped as Mason hustled out the door and jumped over the side door of his convertible. For the first time, I knew exactly what his angle was.
The next day Grey received the manila envelope we had both been dreading. Mason wasn’t kidding about the lawsuit. There it was in black and white.
Mason Lachlan v. Grey Lachlan.
“I guess my idea didn’t work.” I peeked around Grey’s shoulder while he read the legal documents. No amount of Palm hospitality, shrimp dinners, or double chocolate brownies could have stopped Mason.
“He was going to do it regardless of how nice you were, Eden.” Grey threw the envelope on the counter. “I’m going to have to hire a lawyer.” He hung his head. “I don’t have money for that kind of thing.” I could see that telltale vein throbbing on the side of his neck.
I didn’t want to say it, but there was always another option. “Have you thought about not fighting it?”
“What, are you crazy? Of course I’m going to fight for it.” He dug the bottom of his crutch into the floor. He was down to using only one. It was a slight improvement in his mobility. “He can’t waltz in here and take something that’s mine.”
“It does sound crazy, and it’s not because I think you should love this place any less, but you’re already in debt. Taking on a legal battle like this could take years even if he can’t win in the end. And there is no financial gain for you even if you do win. It could ruin you financially for the rest of your life.” I paused. “Instead, you could go back to school, finish your degree, go back to working on wind power for the island like you were going to do.”
“And what would you do? If I sell the Palm, where does that leave you?”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, careful not to lean on his leg. “I’m here with you. Wherever that is, is where I’m going to be.”
Grey sighed. “Thank you.” He kissed the top of my forehead. “But it’s not his. Pops left it to me. He doesn’t have the right to do this—destroy our plans, take away the one inheritance I have. Who is this guy?”
“Do you want me to talk to Taylor? See if she has any influence over him? He should be on his way to Chapel Hill to see her tomorrow. Maybe she can talk some sense into his thick skull.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try, but I’ve seen determined before.” He looked into my eyes. “And my son of a bitch uncle is determined.”
I didn’t think it would help anything if I told Grey what Mason had confided in me. It would only tarnish the image he had of Pops more than before. Grey could do nothing to rewrite history. None of us could help Mason fill in the gaps of a painful childhood.
I don’t know what tricks she had in the bedroom, but none of them worked as leverage where Mason’s decision-making side was concerned. Taylor called two days later to say Mason wasn’t going to budge on the lawsuit. He wanted the Palm Palace ground into the beach and two million in his bank account.
The conversation was stilted. I wasn’t sure if it was starting to sink in that we were on opposite sides of a lawsuit, or if Taylor was distracted because Mason was spending a few days with her.
There was no way things could ever be normal as long as our boyfriends were suing each other. This sucked.
For the next few days, at least, I knew Mason was far from the Palm and Grey.
I tried to put all of it in the back of my head as I climbed the steps to Marin’s aunt’s house. Today was the last of her bridal showers. I clutched a white box in my hand, topped with a fluffy white tulle bow. I had gone with something on the registry. There was a reason she and Pick had chosen the cream china and the colorful accent pieces. I opted for an oval blue platter I thought they could use for entertaining.
I rang the doorbell.
“Come on in, the party’s in here.” A young girl let me in. I wondered if she was one of Marin’s cousins. I heard there were a lot of them.
I dropped my gift on the table before entering the room. With only one week until the wedding, everyone was in good spirits. Marin was surrounded by women, but when she saw me walk in, she waved me over.
“Eden, come meet everybody.”
I hugged her and smiled at the circle of women. This was a traditional shower. The women ranged in age from twenty to eighty. I wasn’t sure I had seen so many sets of pearls in one room. My neck felt a little bare. I was wearing a sundress with a sweater. I probably should have consulted someone other than Grey before I left the house. What did he know about bridal showers?
“This is my Aunt Chrissy, Aunt Shannon, Aunt Lacy, and Aunt Sarah.”
I smiled at all of the women, trying not to be overwhelmed by Marin’s family numbers. “Nice to meet everyone.”
Marin hopped up from the circle. “Tara and Mindy won’t be here until Thursday. I need a non-relative friend right now.” She ushered me into the kitchen.
“What’s going on? Are you ok?” I noticed she suddenly looked pale. Her cheeks matched the white roses on the wrist corsage she wore.
She shook her head. “I’m freaking out.” I saw little beads of perspiration dot the top of her forehead.
“Ok, why don’t you sit down?” I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. “What’s wrong?” I grabbed a paper cup on the counter and poured lemonade into it before shoving it into her hand.
Marin was visibly shaken. “All of this. It’s too much.” She looked at the kitchen door separating us from the rest of the party. After a few seconds, she took a sip.
“There are a lot of people out there. Maybe you just need a break.” I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have everyone fussing over me like that. I was already feeling claustrophobic and I was just a bridesmaid.
“I’m starting to think I can’t go throu
gh with it.”
My jaw dropped. “But, you love Pick. He loves you.” Was I possibly witnessing a runaway bride moment?
Her palms covered her face and she let out a whine. “It’s not him. It’s the wedding. I thought if I rushed it, I could skip all this stuff. There wouldn’t be enough time for showers, parties, and a big reception. All I want is to be married to him. A courthouse ceremony would be fine with me. Or maybe a little destination wedding in Jamaica with ten people. That I think I could handle.”
Marin had grown up with a mother as a wedding planner. Her weekends had been full of brides, wedding cakes, champagne toasts, and bouquet tosses. She was such a hopeless romantic I had assumed she wanted all of those things. I never stopped to ask her. Apparently, no one else had either.
“Have you talked to Pick about how you’re feeling? He’s always good at getting you to smile.”
“He says I just have pre-wedding jitters. I’m supposed to be the older, mature one in this relationship.” She managed a giggle. “He’s the one acting all mature and seasoned about the wedding. He seems completely fine.”
I pulled my phone from my purse.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting a mature and seasoned groom over here.” I waited for him to answer. “Hey, Pick. Do you know where Marin’s Aunt Lacy lives? Ok. Head on over, but come to the kitchen door and don’t let the fifty women out front see you.”
I hung up and looked at my miserable friend. “He said he’ll be here in five minutes.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” I thought I already saw the color coming back to her cheeks.
“Yes, I did. Sometimes the only thing that can make you feel better and reassure you everything is ok is a pair of strong arms.”
“Speaking from experience?” She smiled.
I laughed. “Totally. Now, I’ll go out, mingle for a few minutes, and tell them you’re in the bathroom or something. Why don’t you wait on the kitchen porch for your man?” I motioned to the door.