Holiday In the Hamptons

by Sarah Morgan

  The anger burned through her in a scorching, sizzling, furious heat. She was so mad at him. And under the anger was confusion and a lurch of fear.

  He expected to get involved again? After last time? Did he have no idea what it had done to her? Did he really think she’d ever put herself through that again?

  Worthless, stupid—she’d be both those things if she stepped back into the path of a train that had already flattened her once.

  She scowled, her feet pounding the path as she ran.

  She could have called a cab, but she was too angry.

  A relationship? He wanted a relationship? He wanted to start again? As if all they’d done ten years ago was wave goodbye in a friendly way and agreed to a sabbatical. As if her heart hadn’t ached every second, of every minute, of every day for years after.

  The thought of putting herself through that again—

  Right now she didn’t want a relationship.

  Right now she wanted to push him in the water and drown him.

  Had he done it on purpose? Yes, it had to be on purpose. He knew that every time he kissed her it muddled her brain. It was like a hit-and-run. He’d kissed her and then left her to stew in the heat of her own raging hormones.

  It was a low trick.

  Muttering, furious, she pushed open the door to her grandmother’s house.

  Had the rest of the Poker Princesses gone? She hoped so because she wasn’t in the mood to give them a report of her date with Seth.

  And she wasn’t sure she didn’t have he kissed me written all over her face.

  Hearing sounds from the kitchen but no conversation, she walked through to find her grandmother with her head in her hands.

  “Grams?” Forgetting her own problems, she dropped her bag and ran toward her. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

  Her grandmother lifted her head. “They left a while ago. We had so much fun, but I didn’t quite have the energy to get myself to the living room. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I am worried about you.”

  “They said it was normal to feel tired after a head injury.”

  “They also said you should rest. Shall I help you up to bed?”

  “I do not need to go to bed. I’m not an invalid.”

  “Then I’ll make up the sofa for you. You can look at the water for a while, or we could talk.” She was surprised by how appealing the thought of that was. “You could show me photos of Mom when she was little.” Fliss eased her out of the chair and they walked together to the living room. “Put your feet up. I’ll clear the kitchen and bring you some tea. Can I fix you something to eat?”

  “No, honey. I ate enough of Dora’s delicious casserole to fill me up for days.”

  “All right, then. I’ll be back when I’ve cleaned up.”

  “You don’t have to clean up my mess.”

  “I’m great at cleaning up other people’s messes. It’s my own I struggle with.” She left her grandmother with the remote control for the TV and went back to the kitchen.

  Cleaning up worked off the rest of her anger and confusion.

  She clattered pans, loaded the dishwasher, emptied the trash, all the while thinking about Seth.

  She polished the stove until it shone and then took iced tea to her grandmother.

  “I cleaned your kitchen.”

  “I’m grateful for that clarification because for a moment there I was worried you were demolishing it.” Her grandmother took the glass from her. “You leave the house to go on a date with Seth, smiling, and then you return and start breaking things. Is that something you’d like to talk about?”

  “Nothing is broken.” But her heart would be if she listened to him, if she let herself fall the way she’d fallen the first time. “And there’s nothing to tell.”

  She sat down opposite her grandmother, but her emotions were too all over the place for her to stay sitting, so she sprang up again and started tidying magazines. Her grandmother subscribed to two crafting magazines and a gardening magazine, so there was plenty to keep her occupied.

  “Something he did, or said, flustered you and made you angry.” Her grandmother took a sip of tea. “And then there’s the fact that Seth picked you up but didn’t drop you home after your day together. He’s too much of a gentleman to make you find your own way, so you must have chosen to come by yourself.”

  “He isn’t that much of a gentleman.”

  “I may be old, but you’ll find that age often comes with wisdom, and that can be an advantage. There’s also the added bonus that you don’t have to protect me and you can certainly trust me. I hope you know that.”

  Fliss discovered she did know that. “He wants us to see each other again. But if it didn’t work out the first time, why would it work out this time?”

  Her grandmother put her cup down slowly. “So it’s not that you’re not interested, it’s that you’re scared.”

  “Is that so surprising?”

  “No. Love can be scary. We put our heart in the hands of another. That requires trust. But the alternative is that we go through life without love, and that’s not a great option either.”

  “I know. I saw Mom live through that. I saw what it was like to love a man who didn’t love her back. Dad was the only man for her. I guess that’s why she never gave up trying.” Something in the way her grandmother was looking at her made her feel uncomfortable. “What have I said? She found herself in the same situation as me. She was in love with Dad, got pregnant—” The words fell out before she could stop them, and she stared at her grandmother, mortified, wondering if she could snatch the words back. “I mean, that part wasn’t the same, obviously—”

  “You think I didn’t already know you were pregnant?” Her grandmother studied her over the rim of her cup. “I never believed that whirlwind romance story. Not for a moment.”

  Fliss stared at her, paralyzed by shock.

  She’d held the secret close to her for so long. At the time she’d been worried some people might have guessed, or at least wondered, but then she’d lost the baby so it hadn’t seemed to matter anymore.

  The fact that her grandmother knew made her feel panicky. Exposed.

  “I—”

  “You don’t have to sit there working out what to say to me. You don’t owe me, or anyone else, an explanation. You were pregnant, but you were also in love. Why not get married?”

  Her grandmother made it sound so simple. So logical.

  The feelings of panic receded.

  “I had feelings, it’s true.” The depth of those feelings was something she kept to herself. “And Seth Carlyle is a good, decent guy.”

  “You think that’s why he married you? Because he’s decent?”

  “It was hardly something he would have done otherwise.”

  “You sound very sure about that.” Her grandmother took another sip of her tea. “It didn’t occur to you that he might have married you for another reason?”

  “There was no other reason. It was exactly like Mom’s situation.” And because of that she’d never been given the opportunity to find out if Seth might have fallen in love with her given time.

  Her grandmother handed over her empty cup. “Take that to the kitchen for me, honey. Then go to my bedroom. Under the bed you’ll find a box. Bring it to me.”

  “What’s in the box?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  “You should be resting.”

  “I am resting. Go. There’s something in that box I want to show you.”

  Fliss was intrigued enough not to ask any more questions, and pleased to have an excuse to leave the room. She couldn’t believe she’d told her grandmother about the pregnancy. The only two people who knew about it were Seth and Harriet.

  She found the box under the bed, along with a family of dust bunnies. It made her smile. Her grandmother had always prioritized living her life over cleaning. She’d swum in the ocean every day until she was seventy. And some of those swims had been naked
. Who would have thought it?

  Brushing off the box, she took it downstairs. “It was wrapped in a ton of cobwebs. I ruined dinner plans for at least five spiders. How long has this been here?”

  “A long time.” Eugenia took the box and set it down in front of her. “Your mother said she never wanted to see it again. It made her think of things she didn’t want to think about.”

  Fliss went from mildly intrigued to downright curious. What had her mother not wanted to think about? It must have been important for her to keep the memories in a box as a memento. “But you kept it?”

  “I understood why she wanted me to dispose of it. She was afraid your father might find it, but some things are too important to be discarded. Fortunately even your father wouldn’t have had the gall to come into my bedroom on the rare occasions he showed up here. It’s been there for more than three decades. I’ve never opened it, but I assume the contents are intact.”

  “Does Mom know you kept it?”

  “I told her after she finally left your father. She didn’t want it. As far as she was concerned, the past was the past. She was only interested in building a future.”

  Fliss wasn’t sure she wanted to see something her mother hadn’t wanted her to see, but her grandmother was already opening the box, revealing a stack of letters and photos. “What are those?” She reached across and took the letter from the top of the pile.

  “They’re letters to your mother, from the man she was in love with.”

  Fliss studied the beautiful loopy script. “I never would have guessed my dad was the letter-writing type.”

  “The letters aren’t from your father.”

  “Who are they from?” Confused, Fliss reached for one of the photos and stared at it, uncomprehending.

  It was a little faded, and a little crinkled at the corners, but the image was still perfectly clear.

  In her hand was a photo of her mother, laughing up at a man. It was obvious from the way they were looking at each other that they were in love. Nothing wrong with that, Fliss thought numbly. The only thing wrong with that photo was that the man her mother was smiling at wasn’t her father.

  * * *

  SETH WAS SEEING his last patient of the morning when Nancy, the vet tech, walked into the room.

  “There’s someone to see you.”

  “I’m nearly done here.” He turned his attention back to his patient, a French bulldog with breathing problems. “The shape of his head and the flat face—the technical term is brachycephaly—isn’t natural. It’s a look that has been developed by selective breeding, and it often causes health problems for the dogs.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Mary Danton looked upset. “They’re such fashionable dogs and I thought Maximus was adorable. So that’s why his breathing is so noisy and why he gets so tired on walks?”

  “Yes. He has an elongated soft palate and smaller openings in his nose. He’s finding it hard to breathe.”

  “I thought the noises he makes are normal for the breed.”

  “Plenty of owners think that. And some vets,” he added, thinking of a colleague he’d clashed with back in California.

  “Is there anything at all you can do for him?”

  “I can remove some of the tissue obstructing his airways and widen his nostrils.” Seth reached for paper and a pen and drew a rough sketch, showing Mary what he meant.

  She studied the drawing. “You mean surgery? Would that help?”

  It took another ten minutes to talk through the options, then he walked Mary and Maximus to the reception area to make an appointment.

  Fliss was waiting there with Hero.

  He’d been hoping she’d come to him. He’d made himself wait, but one more day and he would have gone to her.

  He turned back to Mary. “Bring him in tomorrow. We’ll do it right away.” Then he dropped to his haunches to make a fuss of the dog. “There, buddy.” He stroked the animal’s head, feeling the floppy folds of skin around his face. “We’re going to make this better for you, I promise.”

  Leaving Mary and Maximus in the capable hands of their receptionist, he gestured to Fliss. “Come in.”

  She followed him into the room. “Maximus is a cutie. And he loves you.”

  “He’s a great dog. I hate to see him struggling.”

  “Breathing issues?” She paused in front of a poster urging people to get their pets vaccinated. “We see that a lot among our clients with brachycephalic dogs. We have to plan walks accordingly because the dogs are so tired breathing they can’t walk far. So you’ll operate?”

  He talked it through with her, surprised at how knowledgeable she was. Even more surprised that he was able to concentrate enough to string words together.

  She was wearing those cutoff jeans again, the ones that made her legs seem endless. Her arms were bare.

  “You’re busy. I came at a bad time.”

  He wouldn’t have cared what time it was, as long as she was here. “Not a bad time. I’ve finished for the morning.”

  “And judging from your face it’s been a busy one.”

  “Started the day by pulling three feet of string from a cat’s intestine, and it was all downhill from there.” He was more interested in finding out about her. He sensed something was wrong. “So what can I do for you? I presume you don’t need the services of a vet.” He dropped to his haunches and made a fuss of Hero.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said, that’s all.”

  He straightened slowly. “You have?”

  “Yes. I’m going to explore the possibility of extending our business to cover the Hamptons.”

  The business?

  He wondered if she’d thought about the other things he’d said. “I thought you said your stay here was temporary.”

  “I was thinking I could stay on a little longer. See if it’s viable. And that way I can keep an eye on Grams for a while.”

  “You’re staying on so you can keep an eye on your grandmother?”

  She turned her attention back to the poster. “It’s the right thing to do. Not that she really needs me. The house is full of people most of the time.”

  “Your grandmother has a lot of friends. So you’re not staying for any other reason?”

  “What other reason would there be?” Her tone was casual, but then she glanced over her shoulder and gave him a wicked smile. “You might have something to do with it. But only a small, tiny part of the reason, so don’t get any ideas.”

  He already had plenty of ideas.

  “Just for the record, what changed your mind? My cooking, my boat, my shoulders or my eyelashes?”

  Her smile widened. “All of those, but mostly your dog. I’m crazy about Lulu.”

  “Harriet doesn’t need you back in Manhattan?”

  “It’s quiet right now. A lot of people have left the city to escape the heat and the tourists. And I can manage all the paperwork, invoicing and business side of things from here. I’ve set up in our old bedroom. I need to advertise my services. You said I could put a card up on your board in the waiting room?”

  “Of course. Do you want a pen and paper?”

  “No need. I’ve already had some printed.” She whipped some cards out of her bag and offered him one.

  He glanced down at the card in his hand. Slick. Professional.

  The Bark Rangers. Professional dog walking, bespoke caring service.

  “You had these printed since we went sailing. It’s only been a few days.”

  “I already had the artwork. I just needed to tweak it. I used the printer on Ocean Road. He was good. And he fed me cookies while I waited, so it was a good deal.”

  “Where else are you planning to put them?”

  “I’ve put one in Country Stores, and I’m planning on dropping a few more off once I’ve taken Hero back to Matilda.”

  He watched as she prowled to the other side of the clinic, full of nervous energy.

  Something was wrong.

  �
�You can leave a couple of extras with me. I’ll take them with me on my calls.”

  “Do you have time for lunch? I was thinking we could pick something up and eat it on the beach. Lulu could join us. We could talk.”

  She wanted to talk?

  “About anything in particular?”

  “Not really.” Her gaze slid from his. “I’m practicing saying what’s on my mind a bit more, that’s all.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing specific.”

  He didn’t believe her for a moment. “I’m not too busy. And eating it on the beach sounds good.” He picked up his keys before she could change her mind, exchanged a few words with the receptionist and headed for his car. “Have you seen Matilda?”

  She slid into the car next to him. “Yes. She seems to have taken to motherhood pretty easily.”

  He glanced at her face, wondering if that was the problem. “Does it hurt, honey? Seeing the baby?”

  “No. It really doesn’t. I think I cried the last emotion out of myself that night at the beach. I love little Rose. She’s adorable.”

  “Then what’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing, because I know it’s something.”

  “It’s nothing important. Everything is great.”

  If he had a dollar for every time Fliss had told him she was “fine” or “great” he could have bought every mansion in the Hamptons.

  He started the engine. “You’re right, you need more practice. Generally when people talk about problems, they actually describe what they are. That’s the first step.”

  She rubbed her hands over her legs. “My grandmother said some things, that’s all. Not that important.”

  Important enough to bring her to his clinic in the middle of a working day.

  “Is everything all right with her?”

  “Yes. She saw the doctor yesterday, and he’s happy with the way she is healing. The bruising is fading. She gets pretty tired, but they say that’s normal. And she seems to have some of her confidence back. We’ve been doing a lot of baking.”

  “We?” He found a space on Main Street, between a carload of summer people and a beat-up pickup loaded with fishing gear. “You cooked?”

  “You’ll be pleased to hear my skills are improving.”

  “Wait there. I’ll be back in a minute with food. We can eat it on the beach.” He headed for the weathered shingled building that housed the Ocean Deli and was back in under five minutes. One advantage to being the local vet was that you were shunted to the front of the line.