Her mother nodded, continuing to fiddle with the stem of her glass.
“A year later at the inquest you told the court you argued over finances. That he accused you of spending too much money on your little fripperies.”
Her mother nodded again.
Piper kept her voice pitched low and even. “You lied at that inquest, didn’t you?”
A fat teardrop spilled over her lashes. “I—I—” Her chest hitched, snatching the rest of her words away as more tears fell.
“Dad never once complained about the money you spent. I remember he always told you to splurge on something nice for yourself.”
Her mother sniffed. “He was a generous man.”
“What did you really fight about, then?”
Glenna drained the last of her wine and shoved the glass away. “His diving. His blasted free-diving. Oh, it was an awful, terrible argument, and I—” her mother’s voice cracked “—I told him, ‘You’re too old and foolish to still be doing this.’ The look on his face, darling, I just crushed him.”
Piper’s breath evaporated, imagining her proud and stubborn father’s reaction to that accusation. “Jesus, Mum.”
With legs filled with jelly, Piper stumbled to the dining table and slumped into a chair. Her fingers splayed over her breastbone, tried to keep her heart from pulsating right out of her chest. “So you left Dad?”
What had her father thought as they’d chugged through the cool morning fog into Paterson Inlet to his favorite diving spot? After a massive fight with his wife, he still chose to free-dive?
Scratching around the edges of her memories, she unearthed some discrepancies which before now she couldn’t explain. He’d seemed quieter that morning, subdued and lock-jawed—she assumed his unusual surliness was due to her mood turning his sour. Could his focus, split between his wife and the need to concentrate, be part cause of her dad’s fatal dive? It didn’t excuse her culpability, but she now had a possible explanation for what may have gone wrong.
Glenna hiccoughed, slid off the stool and came to sit next to her. “We needed time apart so we could talk things through when we were calmer. I came home the next morning, and found you both gone.”
“But you and Dad never fought.”
“Of course we did.” Glenna retrieved a tissue from the pocket of her apron and delicately blew her nose. “All couples disagree, especially when you have the Harland temper to contend with. Michael and I learned to disagree quietly.”
Piper sat glued in place at the table, studying the pattern of the wood grain. “You never told me.”
“I never told anyone. No one needed to know that I’d tried to shame such a proud man into changing because I was petrified of losing him.” She flung up a hand and shrugged. “And what use afterwards, when the love of my life had gone? So I’ve lived with the bitter words of our last argument every day for the past nine years and I’ve learned to make my peace with them.”
Piper looked up. “He loved you and he knew you loved him. He would’ve known it was a silly fight, that you’d be back in the morning.”
Glenna’s gaze cut away from her and she drew in her lower lip with her teeth, her fingers twisting the tissue into a little ball. “Yes.” She laid her hand over Piper’s. “And he loved you kids too. He’d have been so proud of you all.”
Her father would’ve been proud of Shaye, pursuing her dream of becoming Due South’s head chef, and of Ben, for taking over the family dive business, even with this major setback.
But, her?
Following in his footsteps, becoming a cop whether he wanted her to or not. And taking it further, fighting the odds to become a police diver so that other families wouldn’t face a memorial stone that sat on bare earth, no body beneath.
Would he be proud of her? Maybe.
But maybe he would’ve cursed his middle child who left him to float away from his wife and family because she was so brokenhearted she forgot to check her dive watch at a critical moment.
Glenna squeezed her hand. “Well, that’s enough doom and gloom, don’t you think? We were talking about you and West.”
“Right. Me and West.” Piper shifted on the hard dining chair.
Changing the topic back to West seemed less painful than their shared grief, though no more resolvable, at least in her mind. “It won’t work between us. His life is here in Oban, mine is back in Wellington—I’m a cop, remember?”
“Pffft.” Glenna flapped her hand. “You’re a woman first and you have strong feelings for him—” She held up a finger when Piper tried to object. “Uh-uh, I know you do and I’m not asking you to tell me about them, just be aware Oban does have a police presence here. Or I’m sure Ben would love to have his sister as a business partner—should you ever get weary of B and E shenanigans.”
Her mother was seriously suggesting she stay? Transfer to the Oban police department or partner up with Ben? Exactly how much wine had Glenna drunk?
“Mum, the island’s not big enough to support two full-time officers and I don’t think Noah Daniels has any plans to move on. And as for Ben…” Piper’s voice trailed off and she raked a hand through her hair.
She couldn’t say Ben still blamed her for their father’s death, not without her mother cornering him to try and smooth things over. “We don’t see eye to eye. I can’t see how we could ever work together.”
Glenna chuckled and then surprised her by leaning over to give Piper a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Can’t see, can’t see. Of course you can’t see how it could work between you and West, or how to bridge the gap between you and your brother. You’re like your dad in some ways; you’re blind to what’s important. Sometimes your heart sees more than your eyes, my darling.”
“Sounds like something out of a cheesy Hallmark card.” West’s name mentioned alongside the words “strong” and “feelings” caused a funny flutter in her belly. She’d pretend it was a wine buzz.
“Doesn’t make them any less true.” Glenna stood up and smoothed Piper’s hair. “Now, how about we have a little cooking lesson? You don’t want to make the same mistake twice now, do you?”
“No, I certainly don’t.” Piper followed her mother back into the kitchen.
Did she have feelings for West? Her mind skittered away, but she forced it back to impartially examine the question. Feelings? Strong feelings, even? Did she want something more than the casual sex she’d mentioned to Ben? Could she be with West and then a few weeks later hitch on her backpack and hop on board the ferry without a backward glance?
Piper tuned out Glenna’s running commentary on oven temperatures and the difference between baking and grilling.
You don’t want to make the same mistake twice.
But which had been her mistake the first time? Falling in love with West, or walking away from him without a fight?
And which mistake was she at risk of making this time?
***
Dragged, not kicking but definitely disagreeing, to the Waitangi Day beach party later that evening, Piper was sandwiched between Erin and Bree on a blanket overlooking the bonfire. Kezia sat in front of her, using Piper’s shins as a backrest while they watched Zoe and a few other kids finish an enthusiastic game of cricket. Holly and Shaye disappeared into the crowd to the picnic tables set up with soda, juice and snacks.
“So, now your baby sister’s gone, tell us desperate old spinsters when you’re going to make a move on you-know-who?” Erin said from her left.
“Watch who you call old and desperate,” Bree said on her right.
“And I’m not a spinster. I’m a widow. Widow trumps spinster.” Kezia jerked upright, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Hey, George wasn’t out, ref!”
Ben, further along the beach and nominated informal referee because of his cast, raised a crutch and shook his head.
“What is wrong with your brother’s eyesight?”
“Don’t give her a chance to change the subject, Kez, she’s a wily one.” Bree nud
ged Piper’s ribs.
Piper’s nose crinkled. “Wily? Haven’t you vultures picked off enough raw meat from my bones yet?”
Between the five women they’d wheedled out the basics. Yes, she was single. Yes, she thought West was hot. And yes, it was kinda sweet he’d gone all me-caveman-you-my-woman at the game earlier. No, that didn’t mean they were bumping uglies. And no, there was absolutely no sign of wedding bells. She personally vowed to disembowel anyone who suggested a whiff of the opposite within West’s hearing.
Kezia reclined back on her legs again. “Ah, yes. Piper’s a tough cookie, but we’ll work on that, won’t we, girls?”
“I volunteer to beat it out of her,” Erin said.
“The only thing you beat with any success, short-ass, is egg whites.” Piper closed her eyes and enjoyed the last rays of sunlight kissing her lids, the other women’s friendly ribbing warming her more than she cared to say.
“Mamma, Mamma!” Zoe spilled onto the blanket with them, a tumble of limbs with a ring of tomato sauce around her lips from the barbecued sausages earlier. “Ben says I’m a real good batter and he was impressed at how far I can whack the ball.”
“Fantastic, bella.” Kezia stroked Zoe’s dark curls.
“Think he’d come to school and teach us how to play better?”
“Oh.” Kezia’s hand stilled on her daughter’s head. “I’m not sure about that.”
“I’ll talk to him, Zoe,” Piper said. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to once his ankle’s better.” Or the Harland women would make his life unbearable until he agreed.
“Awesome,” Zoe said. “Look, there’s Ford and Mr. Komeke with their guitars.”
“And Laurie with his harmonica.” Erin stood and brushed sand from her shorts. “On your feet girls, the entertainment’s about to start—let’s get our boogie on.”
“What’s a boogie?” Zoe stage-whispered in her mother’s ear as Bree and Erin strolled toward the bonfire.
“It’s dancing, you know—” Kezia stood, slapped a hand on her hip and finished with a Saturday Night Fever flourish.
Zoe giggled, briefly clapping her palms over her eyes. “Oh, Mamma! Nobody dances like that anymore—and anyway, I want to dance with Ben.”
“Bella, I don’t think Ben will be dancing, with his sore foot.”
Zoe bounced to her feet and took off toward the bonfire, tossing over her shoulder, “I’m gonna ask West, then.”
“You coming?” Kezia turned back to her, a half-smile still on her face.
Piper wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’ll just enjoy the music from here. Dancing’s not my thing.”
Kezia hesitated. “I’ll keep you company, then.”
Piper shook her head. “No way. You go and keep a cat fight from starting—your girl’s already herded up all the good-looking men to dance with.”
“Oh, Lord.” Kezia looked over at her daughter, who was indeed in the midst of West, Noah, and Joe.
Ford, Rob, and Laurie played an old bluesy classic and couples drifted onto the hard-packed sand, their silhouettes swaying in the firelight. A little girl danced with a man in a white shirt, her fingers clutching the ropy muscles of his forearms as he spun her giggling around the makeshift dance floor.
West, dancing with Zoe, scooping her up in a spin, the girl’s arms wrapped around his neck. The sight sprung around her heart like a velvet-lined bear trap and her eyes teared up. Piper chewed her lip until the bitter taste of copper filled her mouth.
Kezia sat back down and without drawing attention to the two of them, slid her hand into Piper’s. “You can trust me, Piper. You know it. So spill.”
Piper watched them a moment longer before she spoke. “When I left here at eighteen, I thought I was pregnant. My period was late, I felt nauseous, and so I bought one of those home pregnancy tests.”
“Was it positive?”
Piper shook her head, swiped at a stray tear on her cheek. “No, and that’s the crazy thing because part of me wanted it to be. To have something of him that he couldn’t just throw away, like he’d thrown away us.”
“You thought you were pregnant with…West’s baby?”
Piper nodded.
“And if you had been, that child would’ve been around Kezia’s age now?”
Piper nodded again.
“Aw, hon. I’m sorry. But at eighteen…” Kezia squeezed her hand hard.
“I know. It would’ve been a total disaster. I wasn’t ready to be a mum.”
“And now?”
“Now if I want a kid, I should probably just look for an anonymous donor.”
Zoe’s high-pitched voice counting off steps carried on the breeze. She and West shuffled forward and back, left and right, the man curved protectively over her when she stumbled, patiently starting over once she regained her footing.
“That’s bollocks. Look at West now—he’s so good with Zoe. He’ll make a great dad,” Kezia said.
He’d make a great dad all right, just not in the loving family she’d once envisioned having. West would one day find a nice, voluptuous Oban woman to settle down with. They would have cute, chubby babies. She wanted to scratch that imaginary woman’s eyeballs out and hurl them in the bonfire.
“To someone else’s kids, sure, because he and I don’t have a relationship.” The words sounded stale and overused, even to her.
“Yeah, you do.”
Piper couldn’t see Kezia’s eye roll, but she heard it.
“Crap. I suppose we do. I’m not sure what kind of relationship it is though, just that it’s temporary—so, not one that will involve procreation.”
“Uh-huh.” Kezia’s voice oozed skepticism. “Well, West’s staring at you like he wants to procreate right now. Like he’s planning to add you to his list of favorite foods.”
Piper’s gaze jerked up. West strode toward them and his gaze zeroed in on her face.
“That’s a sucky metaphor, for someone who calls herself a teacher,” Piper muttered from the corner of her suddenly dry mouth.
Kezia pulled her hand out from under Piper’s and leaned in close. “Science is more my thing, hon—and even I can spot the chemistry between you two a mile off.”
With a wink, Kezia stood, waved at West and took off to the drinks table where Zoe was attempting to wheedle another cup of soda.
West stood in front of her, sandy feet poking out of faded blue jeans, his hair tousled by the light breeze.
Sex appeal in spades.
Piper wanted to launch herself off the blanket and tangle around him like seaweed.
He extended a hand, tomato sauce fingerprints dotting his rolled up shirt sleeves. Before she could think twice, she placed her palm in his firm grip. He tugged her to her feet, not releasing her hand as they faced each other in the flickering light of the bonfire.
“Dance with me?” The rough tone of his voice translated the words to, “Have scorching hot sex with me?”
“Ah…” Her pulse spiked into an uneven rhythm at the soft sweep of his thumb over her knuckles. Tingles buzzed along the new highway formed from the nerves in her hand straight to her girly-bits.
“West, my man.” Ben appeared at West’s shoulder and gave him a hearty back slap. “You’re not copping out on our traditional poker game tonight, are you?”
Piper tried to tug her hand away, but West gripped harder, sending more of those electric tingles skittering along that highway.
“Actually—” West said.
“Don’t be a piker now.” Joe appeared on his other side, bumping West’s arm with his fist. “Bill warned me about you, he did.”
West finally released her fingers and Piper stepped back. Tingle time officially over. But her body still hummed like a tuning fork with anticipation.
“I’m pretty hammered after the game—hey!” West snarled, flicking Ben’s hand away when he patted his head.
Ben chuckled. “Aww, you poor lamb. But Doc here will provide smelling salts at the poker game in case you
swoon from the agony.”
“Did someone say poker game?” Kip ambled over, two teenage girls in micro board shorts trailing after him, at what they likely thought was a discreet distance. He stopped, and the girls tittered behind cupped hands. “I’m in. What time?”
“In an hour, at West’s place,” Ben said.
“Why does have to be my place?” West sent her a look of apologetic frustration, telling her an hour wasn’t long enough for what he had in mind.
“Because you’re the boss. See you in sixty.” Kip strode away, his teenage posse falling in behind.
“I’ll let Noah know we’re still on.” With a nod at Piper, Joe wandered off in the direction of the bonfire.
“I might’ve forgotten and had plans,” West gritted between clenched teeth.
Ben smirked, knowing exactly what plans he’d interrupted. “Poker beats any other plans you made, right Piper? You play poker with your cop buddies back in the city?”
Piper cleared her throat, swallowing the thickness gathered there from the touch of West’s hand. “Not any more. I whipped their butts one too many times. But I’m game to take your money, brother dearest.”
West’s mouth curved in a grin that sling-shot another load of tingles south. But there’d be no shower scene replay tonight and West’s rueful smile confirmed it. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe it was the sensible thing and Ben was right. She should keep her legs crossed.
“But you’re not a guy,” Ben said.
“That is true.” West’s gaze dropped to her breasts before they returned to her face, his gaze smoldering. “Piper’s definitely not a guy.”
Her toes curled into the damp sand, legs aching to metaphorically uncross—aching to wrap around West’s hips so she could grind against him. Damn him and his sexy voice that told her without words he wanted the same thing.
Ben grunted. “God’s sake, West. Can’t Joe give you a shot for those hormones?”
“Scared I’ll fleece you, Benny-boy?” Piper cocked her chin at her brother. “We could play with jellybeans like we used to, if you’d prefer.”
In Too Deep Page 18