by Diana Tobin
“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’ve never taken care of a garden. Maybe you can give me some tips and I’ll try a few things next year.”
“Deal,” he said cutting into his steak. “I’ll show you the compost pile after dinner.” He chewed the bite of meat, then reached over to grab Gus’s hand. “This is wicked good. I think you better marry me so I can eat like this all the time.”
She pulled her hand from his light grip, glared at him, and said, “When pigs fly!”
“Hey, Gusta, I was only kidding.” He sat back in his chair. “My humor may be in bad taste, but my taste buds are delirious with happiness. This is the best meal I’ve had since, well, I can’t remember. Please, accept my apology and enjoy your meal.” He took another bite. “I will be very happy to clean up.”
Gus nodded her agreement and went back to eating. Marriage was a serious matter to her. She might not have minded Web’s joking so much if her ex-husband had taken his vows as seriously as she had. “What’s with the compost?”
“Organic matter. You know, corn husks, potato peelings, eggshells, grass clippings, leaves, it all goes in a pile and breaks down into what gardeners call black gold. Garden soil.” He kept eating. “No meat scraps or dairy products.” He buttered his corn. “This meal really is great. Cobs can go into compost, they just take a really long time to break down.”
“You really are enjoying the food, aren’t you?”
“Why are you so surprised?” He stared at her, butter covering his lips and dripping down his chin.
Watching him stare at her, Gus thought he was going to lean over and kiss her. Nervously, she picked up her napkin and wiped his face. “I’m not used to getting compliments.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Web licked butter from his fingers. “Are there idiots in Oregon?”
“There are idiots everywhere, I never cooked for the whole state,” she replied and didn’t want to mention the one idiot she could think of. She picked up her own corn. “Will you tell me about Emma?”
“What do you want to know?”
Gus sighed. “Everything.”
CHAPTER NINE
Web cleared away the dishes, as promised, and offered to make coffee. Gusta declined, saying she’d rather enjoy the rest of the sangria.
“When I grabbed a couple of your scrapbooks I also brought out a picture I thought you’d like to see.” Web picked up the books and photo he’d had sitting on another chair, placing them on the now cleared table. “You look like your grandmother, you know.”
“How would I know?” Gusta sipped her wine. “I’ve never seen her. I didn’t even know she existed until recently.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “Here’s a picture when she was about your age.”
Gusta set down her wine glass but didn’t reach for the framed photo Web held. “How do you know how old I am?”
Web wanted to tell her it was a guess, but the time for lies and unanswered questions was long past. “Emma told me you’re twenty-nine. She’s the one who got John Gates to hire an investigator to find you.”
“Find me. How did she know about me when I had no idea about her?”
“Emma wanted to find Julia. She’d always hoped Julia would return home and explain why she’d left. Why she cut Emma out of her life. At first, Emma thought if she gave Julia the space she seemed to need, Julia would return to the sweet, loving daughter Emma had always known.”
Gusta was shaking her head. “My mom was a wonderful person. She was sweet and loving. She loved Dad and me, and later, Hope.” Gusta frowned as she stared at Web. “Emma must’ve done something to make Mom leave. To make Mom never speak of her.”
Web blew out a big breath. “That’s the big question. Emma didn’t know what made your mother start to change. She had a couple of ideas, but Julia would never discuss it with her.”
“What kind of ideas?”
“Julia began to change when Paul died. Paul was Julia’s father.”
“What happened?”
“Paul couldn’t keep his pants zipped around other women.” Web glanced at her and rubbed his chin. He had no tolerance for people who wouldn’t keep their promises.
“His affairs killed him? A jealous husband?” Gusta set down her glass and a bemused smile crossed her lips. “Guess Emma and I had more in common after all.”
“Did your ex screw your best friend?” There was no mistaking the disgust in Web’s voice.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She took a sip of her wine. “I don’t believe so, but that says more for my friend than for my ex. You have to tell me the whole story now.”
Web threw himself back into his chair, rubbed his hands over his face, then poured more wine into their glasses. “I can’t believe Julia never told you any of this. Then, again, from what I’ve heard, she thought her father could do no wrong.” He kept his gaze on Gusta.
“I can’t believe she never told me we had family. She knew how important it was to me, especially after Hope was born.” She turned her glass around in circles on the cloth before her, then sighed as if she’d come to a decision. “Mom and Dad discouraged me from marrying Steve, but I was sure I knew what I was doing. Talk about dumb and naïve!” She took a quick sip. “After I had Hope, they wanted me to move to Washington with them and divorce Steve. I refused because I didn’t want to break up our family, messed up as it was. I thought for sure Steve would come around. I didn’t see how anyone could resist sweet baby Hope.” Gusta shrugged her shoulders as her breath shuddered out. “Tell me about Emma. Please.”
Web was torn between scooping Gusta into his lap and comforting her, or flying out to Oregon to beat the shit out of Steve Payne. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and forced his fingers to relax on the arms of his chair.
“Emma married Paul Dodge. They were good friends with Henry and Barbie Biddle.”
“Biddle?” Gusta interrupted. “Wasn’t that Emma’s last name?”
“Yes. I’ll get to that.”
“Sorry,” she said meekly.
Web gave her a small grin to let her know she was forgiven. “The four of them were good friends and spent a lot of time together. Henry and Barbie had a daughter, Alice, and the next year, Emma and Paul had Julia.” He watched the twilight fade over the lake, but knew Gusta was watching him. “Emma didn’t say when Paul’s affairs started. I don’t know if she knew when, or if it all came out after the last one. Paul and Barbie had an affair. Paul died while he and Barbie were in bed together in some motel up to Farmington. Heart attack.
“Julia, your mother, was fifteen. Emma got the feeling Julia blamed her for Paul’s affair. Julia and Alice had grown up together, been best friends, but after Paul died, Julia avoided Alice and started hanging out with a different crowd.”
Web reached for his glass and let the silence settle over them.
“As you might guess, Henry divorced Barbie. Alice chose to remain with Henry. Neither Barbie nor Paul was very good at being parents. Too caught up in their own selfish needs, I suppose.” Web took another drink of his wine. “Emma and Henry leaned on each other. They’d been friends for years, and both had been betrayed by the people who were supposed to love them.
“Julia made it known she didn’t like Emma spending time with Henry. Not that she was spending any time with her mother. The gap between them kept getting wider.” Web relaxed into his chair, letting his head fall to the back of it. “Three years after Emma became a widow, she and Henry married. They were together thirty-one years, in this house,” he waved a hand around them. “Henry died four years ago. He sure did love Emma.” Web looked over at Gusta. “Emma said those years with Henry were the best of her life.”
When Gusta turned her head to meet his gaze, he could see the tears running down her face.
“Hey, don’t cry.” He reached out to wipe away the wetness. “The story had a happy ending. Emma and Henry had each other and were truly happy together. I’d say it’s too bad they didn’t marry each other first, but then th
ere wouldn’t have been Alice and Julia—and you and me.”
Gusta gave him a watery smile. “Yes, Emma had you.”
“And, she kind of got the last laugh on Paul and Barbie. Paul had a big life insurance policy. Guess he thought he was worth a lot.” He grinned at Gusta. “Emma was the beneficiary and she invested well, becoming quite wealthy over the years.
“Henry had built this house before he and Barbie married. When he found out what she’d done, he sold the house to Emma for one dollar. During the divorce, Barbie was demanding half of everything, so he gave her fifty cents and said that was it.”
They both laughed over the outcome of what had been heartbreaking.
“Good for Emma!” Gusta declared. “And, for Henry. I could’ve used some advice from them.”
Gusta picked up the framed photo Web had wanted her to see. She ran her finger over the image of Emma’s face and hair. “I do look like her. Especially the chin dimple.”
Web put his finger on the dimple in question. “I noticed it first thing.” He leaned forward, replacing his finger with his lips. Just as the tip of his tongue dipped into the dent, Gusta jerked back.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“What I’ve wanted to since we first met, Cuz.”
“Cuz?” Her brows drew together as she frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Did I forget that part of the family history?” He flashed her a big smile. “Henry Biddle was my grandfather. Emma was the only grandmother I ever knew. So…” he drew out the word. “That sort of makes us cousins. Welcome to the family.”
♥•♥•♥
Gus didn’t know what to think.
She’d felt such empathy for the grandmother she hadn’t known as she listened to Web speak about Emma’s life with Paul. Her heart had wrenched in sympathy thinking how Emma had been betrayed—not only by her husband, but her best friend, as well. Gus had been betrayed by Steve, more times than she could count, as she had learned. But she had never heard if he’d slept with any of her friends. The longer she’d been married to Steve, the fewer friends she’d had.
When Gus had first heard about Charles Webster she’d thought he was an old man, since he was Emma’s companion. Then, she’d met Web, and her thoughts about Emma and Web had been anything but nice.
Now, she’d learned they were related.
“No!” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Web turned to her. “We are not related. We are not cousins.”
She thought he muttered, “Thank God!” but since she wasn’t sure, she decided not to take exception.
“Your name isn’t Biddle.”
“Nope. Alice married my dad, Joe Webster,” he stated proudly. “Yes, the town is named after an ancestor, and I am the last Webster, for now. At least, in this family.” He squinted at her. “Technically, we aren’t cousins, or—only by marriage. I’m not sure how that works.”
She yanked at her hair with both hands. “I’m trying to take it all in. Emma was your grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Gates said you were Emma’s companion. I thought…” Her face had to be beet red, as hot as it felt. “Never mind what I thought.”
Web and Emma hadn’t been lovers!
“At least you know about Emma, and all the rest,” Web said. “We still don’t know why your mother left, or why she never contacted Emma or told you about her.” Web took one of her hands in his. “Your grandmother really wanted to meet you and Hope. She was sad when she learned about your parents’ accident. But she had made her peace with never seeing Julia again. She grieved for the loss of her daughter a long time ago. When Emma broke her hip,” his voice cracked a bit and he stopped to sip his wine. “We felt sure she’d recover, and we planned to fly to Oregon to see you. Then, an infection took over and…” He lifted his bare shoulders a bit, then let them fall.
She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you were here with her.” A little voice in her head was saying how glad she was he hadn’t been her grandmother’s lover.
“Look,” Web said softly directing her attention out to the garden. “The fireflies are back.”
Dusk had fallen while she’d been learning about her family.
Family! She’d loved her parents dearly, but she had always wanted grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. And, now she had them. Most of them were gone; but now, she knew about them. She still had a cousin, of sorts.
She took a sidelong glance at Web. It was disappointing to think of him as a cousin, but she was more comfortable with that than thinking of him as a…what? She didn’t want a man in her life, she couldn’t trust her judgment after what she’d endured with Steve. She could be comfortable with Web as a relative. Goodness knew, she could use a friend—and she wouldn’t have to worry about bad judgment with him.
She’d just have to learn not to lust after her cousin.
“Your parents,” she said suddenly.
“What about them?”
“Are they here in Webster? Do you see them? Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Whoa. Slow down.” He patted the air between them. “I’m an only child. I had a sister, but she died when she was less than a year old. Mama and Dad live and work in Bangor, so they don’t have a house here anymore. We always stayed here with Gran and Pop.”
“What about uncles, aunts, cousins?”
He grinned at her.
“Other cousins?”
“I’m having trouble thinking of you as a cousin.” Before she could say a word, he continued. “Dad has four sisters, so there are aunts, uncles, and cousins on that side. But I’m the last of the male Websters.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “I mean, nice for you, but no more relatives for me.” Gus waved a hand. “Ignore me. Just feeling a tad sorry for myself.”
Web slid an arm around her shoulder and gave her a little hug. “Understandable.”
His touch was warm and wonderful, and she wouldn’t dislodge his arm this time. Relatives touched, so it was allowed. And, her ex-husband wasn’t around to turn it into something sleazy.
“What do you have planned for tomorrow?” Web asked as he rocked her slightly.
“I haven’t thought about it. I don’t start work until Monday.” She sighed softly. “Did you need help with something?”
“How would you like to see a lighthouse or two, and maybe have a lobster?”
She turned her head to look at him. Their faces were close enough she could smell the sweet fruit and wine on his breath. “Are you offering to be my tour guide? Both of those are on my list.”
“You made a list of things to do in Maine?”
“Hope and I did.” She felt tears burn her eyes, but blinked them back. “She made me promise to do the things we put on the list.”
“I firmly believe in keeping promises,” Web stated. “You get out that list in the morning and we’ll start doing them.” He ran his fingers over her hair. “You probably should get some sleep. I’ll finish cleaning up.”
She was mesmerized by the look in his eyes. Gus didn’t remember anyone ever looking at her that way before. “All right. Thank you.”
“Thank you for dinner. The whole meal was delicious.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
Before she could protest, or kiss him back, Web ended the kiss and moved away from her. “Sweet dreams, cousin Gusta.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Did I oversleep?” Gus asked as she stepped into the kitchen the next morning. She’d thought she’d have trouble getting to sleep considering all she’d learned the night before, but Web’s sangria must have done the trick, and she’d slept soundly.
“We’re not on any time schedule,” Web assured her. “Are those shoes going to be comfortable?”
She looked down at her navy blue leather fisherman-style sandals, a splurge from a few years earlier. “Are we going in the water?”
“Not on purpose, but we might be climbing ov
er rocks.”
Gus shrugged her shoulders. “These are fine. Shall I cook breakfast before we leave?”
“No. Grab a jacket or sweatshirt. It can be chilly on the coast.” Web finished loading a small cooler sitting on the counter. “I’ve got some drinks and snacks, just in case. Get a move on, woman. We’re eating breakfast out.”
Gus went back to her room and got a zip-front hooded sweatshirt. Web, cooler in hand, was waiting at the side door for her when she returned.
“Want to take my car?”
“Heck, no,” Web said. “We’re taking my Jeep.” He led her into the garage she still hadn’t explored.
A tall red Jeep sat in the middle of the building. On the left, a door led out to the porch. A wooden workbench sat below a long curtain-less window overlooking the garden. To the right of the vehicle was the boat Web had mentioned the day before, covered with a green tarp. In front of the boat was a set of stairs.
“Where do the stairs lead?”
“Storage. Christmas decorations, stuff like that,” Web told her. He placed the cooler in the back of the Jeep and began unzipping the windows. “We want to take advantage of the good weather while we can.”
“You’re beginning to worry me about fall and winter.”
“Didn’t you have rain and snow in Oregon?” He tucked the windows in a compartment in the vehicle.
“Rain, definitely,” Gus told him. “Most of the snow was in the mountains, but sometimes we’d get some on the valley floor.”
“What valley is that?” Web opened the garage door.
“The Rogue Valley. It’s in southern Oregon, where I grew up.” She looked beyond Web, remembering. “Hot and dry in the summer, cool and wet during the winter. Snow would usually fall, but rarely stayed in the valley for long. We could get fogged in for days during the winter. Wonderful Indian summers in the fall.”
“You miss it, don’t you?”
Gus blinked and rubbed her nose, embarrassed to have been lost in memory. “A bit,” she admitted.
“Let me have your keys and I’ll move your car.”
“I can do it.” She dug in her purse for her keys. “Where shall I park?”