“You’re interested?”
“Of course. I want to know everything about you and my nieces. If that’s okay,” she added hurriedly.
“I’d love it. We can put this in the office and I’ll give you the tour.”
They stowed the guitar out of sight and left instructions for the receptionist.
“You’ve seen the dining room and the bar. There are also two meeting rooms on this floor and a small ballroom that we use for yoga and tai chi during winter and inclement weather.”
They walked down the hall and into a large room with a shining wooden floor. The ceilings were high and once again French doors let in a stream of sunlight and a view of the lawn and the ocean beyond.
“Wow,” Zoe said. “It seems like every room has an ocean view.”
“It was a real beauty in its day. Actually, we’ve only restored part of it. The whole third floor is still unfinished.”
“You’re kidding. Why?” Zoe clamped her mouth shut. “If I get too snoopy, just tell me. I’m used to butting in and taking over. Kind of have to in my business.”
“Ask anything. You’re family. And I feel stupid, but what exactly is your business?”
As they toured the second floor, Zoe explained what a project manager actually did. “You know, setting up events for clients, keeping everyone conducting the event on the same page, arranging transpo, accommodations, food for guests, coordinating vendors, managing event teams. Stuff like that.”
“It sounds mind-boggling.”
“You just have to be efficient and have a thick skin.”
“So when you told me to hire a laundry service, you knew what you were talking about.”
“No. I don’t know anything about your expenses, but generally in my business, you don’t use experts in one field to do the job of experts in another field. Inefficient, costly, and with usually inferior outcomes over the long haul. Just my opinion. Like I said.”
Eve had to use a key to open the elevator doors on the third floor.
“Yikes, it’s a little like The Shining,” Zoe said as they stepped out into a hallway of wall sconces and faded fleur-de-lis wallpaper. “You know that Jack Nicholson movie?”
Eve laughed. “I know it. I saw it the first time around.”
Zoe looked up and down the hall. “All guest rooms?”
“Actually, no. And if I had a bigger operation . . . well, come and see.” She led Zoe to the left and opened a set of double doors.
Zoe stopped in her tracks. “OMG.” She stepped onto the dusty wooden floor of a huge dining room. The old tables and chairs were still stacked along the walls. Heavy brocade drapes hung from ornate, patina-covered rods.
Eve walked across the room, leaving footprints on the dusty floorboards. She pulled open a pair of drapes, releasing a cloud of dust motes and revealing the most spectacular view Zoe had ever seen.
She joined Eve at the window. “I can’t believe you left this to last. It’s an incredible venue.”
“It is,” Eve agreed. “But just a little beyond my ability. I’d need to grow the staff and it would cost a lot. We’ve always been pretty much a family-style business—part of the appeal. I’m not sure I could maintain everything without going corporate, which I refuse to do. We’re successful because of our personalized attention and our laid-back atmosphere. The thought of taking it to the next level is just a little overwhelming.”
“I get that. But still . . .”
Eve closed the drapes, and they returned to the hallway. “There’s a kitchen down at the end of the hall, but it’s been gutted. The equipment was totally unusable and we decided it would be safer just to get rid of it all.”
Zoe nodded. All in all, Eve had done a wonderful job with the renovation and the ambiance. Had a happy, helpful staff. And, from what she’d said and Zoe could see, had made Solana a success. “You’re pretty amazing,” she said.
“Thanks. What do you say we walk down to the beach? I seem to never get down there. I’ll show you the classes that are in session on the way.”
“Sounds great.”
“Maybe you could tell me about growing up with our mother. And then . . .” Eve pressed the elevator button. They stepped in and the doors closed behind them. “And then I think you should meet our father.”
Chapter 17
“No.”
“You can’t just keep trying to avoid each other,” Eve said. “It’s a small town.”
“He resents me. He won’t even acknowledge me. It’s better I just do what I have to do and leave.”
“No.” Tears filled Eve’s eyes, and Zoe moved to her.
“We won’t let him come between us. Okay? He doesn’t have to accept me. It’s only important that you do.” Zoe gave Eve a quick hug. It felt strange. More than a girlfriend hug. A sister hug. “And since you’ve sorta, kinda, half taken the day off, why don’t we go down to the beach and laze in the sun for a minute?”
“Okay, but you’re still going to have to deal with each other before you go.”
Zoe let it pass. Her father didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Would her Long Island father feel the same way? He hadn’t paid much attention to any of them since he’d started a second family. He’d come to the funeral, expressed his condolences with the rest of the guests, and left.
Well, she was an adult, and she didn’t need a father in her life now that she didn’t have a mother.
But she did have a sister who wanted her, and at least one half brother. Oh, Mom, how could you have screwed up so royally?
Zoe and Eve didn’t talk on their way down the beach path. They stopped at the edge of the sand. A few guests were relaxing in chaises set up beneath brightly colored umbrellas. A group class of something that looked like Pilates was taking place near the water’s edge.
“You should spend more time down here,” Zoe said.
“I know. Amazing, isn’t it? Like all your troubles just flutter away when you’re at the beach.”
Zoe nodded. “But they don’t really.”
“No. But it’s enough just to give you time to regroup.”
“True.”
Ahead of them, the refreshment cabana looked more like an open-front beach house. Lively blue-and-white-striped canvas curtains were pulled back from lattice columns across the front. A concession counter ran along the back. A semicircle of changing rooms and showers sat off to one side against the lawn.
“I didn’t notice the other day how big the cabana is,” Zoe said. “You could do dinners down here.”
“We have for a few weddings. A pain. It only has a grill, not a full kitchen.”
The concessioner saw them coming, put down his tablet, and waved.
Eve waved back. “At ease,” she called. “Just us chickens.”
Zoe stared at her. “Mom used to say that. I never knew what it meant. That’s just weird.”
“Not really,” Eve said. “Floret used to say it all the time. We probably picked it up from her.”
“Six degrees of separation,” Zoe said.
“And I still don’t know what that means. Come on.” Eve struck off across the sand in the direction of Wind Chime House.
Zoe hurried after her. “You said Floret used to say it? Doesn’t she anymore?”
Eve stopped. “No . . . she doesn’t. At least . . .”
They both looked at the black rocks of the jetty that tumbled across the width of the beach like a poorly healed scar.
A sign posted where the rocks met the lawn read private. keep out. And the image of Mel sitting on the jetty rose in Zoe’s mind. Half in one world, half in the other, and not belonging to either. The symbolism was hard to ignore. Just like Romeo and Juliet.
“Isn’t it ridiculous?” Eve said. “I hate that it’s cut the beach in two.”
“Then why does it? Does anybody on their side even go down there? Naked or not?”
“Not really. It was Hannah’s doing. I was thinking about expanding
the inn and asked Henry and Floret if they’d be willing to rent me their portion of the beach, with the stipulation they could use it, just not nude. After all, they have Old Beach, which I guess they used to call Wind Chime Beach. I offered decent money and all was on its way, until Hannah decided we should buy the beach and the land behind it outright, for expansion. Then things fell apart. As they always do between the three of them. Hannah threatened, they withdrew their acceptance of my offer, and the next day, trucks arrived to build the jetty. Floret and Henry were forced to put up the sign to protect themselves legally. Actually, it was David who put up the sign.”
They began walking toward the jetty.
“Look, there’s Floret.”
Zoe looked toward Wind Chime House to where a big straw hat bobbed above the rows of beans like a sailboat.
Tacitly, they squeezed past the sign to the other side of the jetty, where another stretch of pristine sand greeted them.
“Not much of a deterrent,” Zoe said.
“No,” Eve agreed. “Just an eyesore.”
They crossed the sand and climbed up the slope of lawn to the house.
Someone had mowed the rest of the lawn. From this angle Wind Chime House didn’t look as ramshackle as it had before. Nothing close to the carefully restored old hotel behind them. And yet both were havens in their own way.
Yeah, with a big, ugly jetty—and David Merrick—to keep them apart, Zoe thought.
He was walking toward them with the same measured steps that he’d used to accompany Zoe off the property the first day they’d met. This did not bode well. Maybe he didn’t recognize them and thought they were trespassing.
Eve waved, and he stopped to wait for them, feet spread, arms crossed, a colossus protecting his home. Was he conscious of how arrogant he looked? Maybe that was the point, because he obviously recognized them now.
“If Lee sent you, you can tell him to stay away from my nephew. I’ll tell him myself as soon as I can find him.”
“What happened?” asked Eve. “What are you talking about?”
David’s jaw tightened. He was evidently having a hard time containing his temper, and Zoe felt an overwhelming urge to remind him of peace, love, and all that jazz.
But his next words stifled her.
“Eli and Mel just broke up because your father threatened Eli if he ever saw her again. And while he isn’t afraid of Lee, he is afraid for Mel.”
“For Mel? Lee wouldn’t hurt either of them,” Eve said.
“No? Not even if he thinks history is repeating itself?”
Eve recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “She’s not—she—is she pregnant?”
“She’d better not be,” David said, forgetting that he was on the offensive.
Zoe saw Floret running toward them and holding her hat to her head. Dulcie trotted after her, then passed her and kept going.
Straight for David.
Zoe bit her lip and waited for impact.
David and Eve were oblivious, face-to-face in a standoff.
“So you can tell him for me—”
Anger goeth before a—
He had no warning before Dulcie, hornless head lowered, ran full tilt into his side and knocked him off balance.
He staggered to the side. “Mind your own business, you damn goat.”
Dulcie was loud in her response. Zoe could only guess what she was saying, probably something along the lines of what Zoe was thinking.
Floret stood a few feet away, her hat askew. “Dulcie, leave David alone! I’ll just go put on tea.” She hurried into the house, followed by Henry, who had been sitting on the front porch.
“I’m sorry, David,” Eve said. “Poor kids, they must be so upset. But he would never hurt them. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“Like mother, like son? Some people just can’t let go.”
“Ugh.” Eve turned to Zoe. “I’d better go see about Mel. Do you want to come?”
“You two should have some mother-daughter time. I’ll stay here. Call my cell if you need anything.”
Eve nodded and hurried back the way they’d come.
Zoe turned back to David.
David stuck out his hand in a gesture of “after you.” It was a gesture she was beginning to know well and disliking more with every repetition.
“You think this is all my fault.”
He didn’t bother to comment.
“Don’t you?”
“Not everything is about you.”
“Oh, goody, that makes me feel so much better.” She stalked past him.
He caught up to her. “I didn’t mean it as a judgment. I just meant that this has been fomenting for a while now. You’re probably just the catalyst.”
“Capulet,” she said.
“What?”
“It was a play on words. Not catalyst, but a Capulet. Just like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Spare me the Shakespeare reference.”
“Actually I was thinking of the Reflections.”
“What?”
She groaned. “It’s a sixties song. ‘(Just Like) Romeo and Juliet’ sung by the Reflections.”
“Never heard of them.”
Zoe looked to heaven. “Tristan and Isolde? Heard of them? They’re pretty famous. Brad and Angelina?”
“I give up. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Star-crossed lovers.”
David groaned. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s none of those. Just a few myopic adults, so caught up in their own pasts, they don’t see the harm they’re doing to a couple of kids just trying to understand life and having to feel their way through the mess.”
“Whoa. You’re right. It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
They reached the house and she went inside; David didn’t.
Eve stood outside Mel’s bedroom listening. She expected to hear sobs or sniffs or even out-and-out wailing, not Mel lumbering around her room making noise. Was she so upset she was actually throwing things? Then she heard a drawer open, then close, then another—
She knocked. “Mel? Mellie?”
“Go away.”
“Listen, I talked to David. He told me what happened.”
“Go away.”
“Mel, let me in.” Eve waited. Finally, she heard the lock click. She didn’t rush in like she wanted to. To take her daughter in a safe hug and promise her that everything would work out. Because she couldn’t promise that. She wasn’t even sure she didn’t agree with her father about Mel and Eli, but never with his technique.
The door opened enough for her to slip inside. Mel’s face was blotched and her eyes were swollen and red. All the Gordons’ faces looked hideous when they cried. Except maybe Hannah’s. Eve had never actually seen her grandmother cry.
“He said you and Eli broke up.”
“Just because Eli is afraid of Granddad.”
“I heard it was because Eli was trying to protect you from what he was afraid Lee might do to you. You know your granddad—he’s rough and gruff, but he would never hurt you or Eli.”
“Too late. He’s wrecked everything. I hate him.” Mel shoved a T-shirt into her backpack.
“Now, wait just a minute.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“It doesn’t. Eli wants to go to college. So he can go. If he doesn’t want me, I sure as heck don’t want him.”
Eve’s heart broke a little. “I’m sure he wants you. It’s just—”
Then she saw the clothes spilling out of Mel’s backpack. The opening and closing of drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“Why?”
“Everybody hates me. You don’t care what I want in life.”
This was the same Mel that a few hours ago had hugged her sister good-bye and wished her luck? “Of course I do.” Eve tried not to feel hurt. Knew something must have happened to make Mel lash out like this. Knew tha
t she was having a hard time adjusting to no longer being a high school student.
Eve took a deep breath and sat down on Mel’s bed next to the backpack. Reminded herself to be the adult in the room. No one hurt like a teenager, unless maybe it was a teenager’s mother.
“I love you. We all love you.”
“And want what’s best for me. But who says you know what’s best for me?” Mel shoved a pair of jeans into the already stuffed backpack.
“Wait a minute. When did this turn from your grandfather to me? I haven’t told you not to see Eli. I like Eli. I just want you to keep your options open. That’s all I’ve ever said.”
“But you didn’t mean it.”
“Of course I do.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Eve’s blood froze. Her mind pinballed from a young girl hitchhiking across the country to a suicide pact. She couldn’t stop it.
“Mel, wait. What are you going to do? If you don’t care about Eli. And you don’t care about us. Where can you go?”
For the first time since Mel had unlocked the door, she slowed down, a pink striped T-shirt hanging from her hands. Her mouth worked spasmodically. “Somewhere.”
“I’ll be unhappy when you’re gone.”
Mel sniffed. “No, you won’t be. You’re making me leave anyway, to go to college.”
“I just—”
“I know, you just don’t want me to make the same mistakes you and your mother made. Well, she did fine. She dumped you and went off to have a cushy life with another family.”
Eve didn’t know where the slap came from. Her palm made contact with Mel’s cheek before she knew what was happening.
For an eternal moment, they both froze.
“I’m sorry. Oh my God, Mel.” Eve reached for her daughter, but Mel dodged away. She grabbed her backpack and ran out of the room.
Eve followed but stopped when the front door of the cottage slammed shut. She’d done something unthinkable. She’d hit her daughter. She’d hurt her own daughter. What kind of monster was she?
But she knew. She had just proved it. She was a Gordon.
A Beach Wish Page 21