Meet Me at the Beach (Seashell Bay)

by V. K. Sykes

  “Your mother would be so happy you came here for her birthday,” Father Michael said.

  “I’m early. It’s tomorrow, actually.” Aiden stepped out of the enclosure and extended his hand.

  The priest smiled as he returned Aiden’s handshake. “Yes, I know. God bless her soul.”

  Aiden wasn’t surprised. His mother had always relied on Father Michael for advice and solace. She faithfully attended Mass every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening, and she volunteered for everything from arranging food for weddings and funerals to repainting and redecorating the rectory.

  “You were a good friend,” Aiden said. “I know how much that meant to her.”

  “It was easy to be her friend.” Father Michael pointed to the roses. “I assume those are yours, Aiden. They’re lovely. Rebecca’s favorite, as you obviously remembered.”

  Aiden nodded. “I see someone brought wildflowers. And the sea glass. I’m guessing Miss Annie left them. I know she and Mom both collected and exchanged good pieces.”

  The priest smiled. “That’s a very good guess because Miss Annie does visit here quite often. But no, she didn’t leave those flowers. Nor the glass.”

  Aiden frowned. It couldn’t be Bram, and who else on the island besides Miss Annie would make a special trip to visit her grave? “Huh, I wonder who it is.”

  “The same person who comes here every week, without fail—even in the worst weather—to make sure there’s not a stray blade of grass or a weed marring your mother’s grave. Your father, Aiden.”

  What the hell? His father had treated his mom like crap, so that didn’t make any sense. “Really? That’s hard to believe.”

  “This isn’t a once-a-year thing, Aiden. Sean brings wildflowers every week when they’re in bloom, and on occasion he brings a bouquet from Portland too. He couldn’t be more faithful and devoted.”

  Aiden could practically feel his eyes bugging out in disbelief.

  The priest gave a rueful chuckle. “Well, at least in that regard. We certainly don’t see him in the pews as often as we’d like.”

  “Yeah, or ever,” Aiden scoffed.

  Father Michael’s eyebrows pulled up. “And are you a regular at Mass then in one of those lovely Philadelphia churches?”

  Aiden had to repress a wince at the innocent reminder that his life in Philly was essentially over. “I’m on the road a lot, and we play every Sunday during the season,” he said.

  I used to play every Sunday, that is.

  “Well, perhaps you will join us here this Sunday? I’m sure you’ll be staying on the island at least that long, won’t you?”

  A beat-up old minivan motored noisily by on Island Road, the driver honking as a woman in the passenger seat waved at them. Father Michael waved back and, automatically, so did Aiden. Everybody in Seashell Bay waved to each other when they passed by, whether in a car or a golf cart, on a bike or on foot. If you didn’t wave back, you were definitely a Come-From-Away or, as everyone abbreviated it, a CFA.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” Aiden hedged. “I’d originally thought only a few days, but then I got roped into helping out Lily, so…” He shrugged. In truth, he had no idea anymore.

  “Yes, I heard about the consequences of losing the bet you two made on Darts Night,” the priest said with a glint of mischief in his eye.

  “No secrets on this island,” Aiden said dryly.

  “Well, I believe it’s still a secret what you intend to do about selling your land to Bay Island Properties. When do you think you might reveal your plans in that regard, Aiden?” Father Michael adopted a beatific, innocent smile, but Aiden wasn’t fooled.

  “Yes, my son, I know,” Father Michael added, taking in Aiden’s expression. “But you know priests—we can get away with sticking our noses into just about anything, can’t we?”

  More than once since he’d come back to the island, Aiden had contemplated hanging a sign around his neck saying, I DON’T KNOW, SO DON’T BOTHER ASKING.

  Then again, he guessed he should count himself lucky that people weren’t beating down his door to lobby him. If he’d been most anywhere other than Seashell Bay, that was probably what would have happened. The locals might be nosy, but they also had an old-fashioned sense of courtesy. Funny how he’d forgotten that.

  “I know people are anxious to hear, Father, but the honest answer is I don’t know. I’ve got a lot on my mind these days.” He shifted restlessly, starting to feel the old urge to escape.

  “I’m sure. You feel a great obligation to your brother.” He paused a moment. “And perhaps to your father, as well.”

  Aiden glanced down at his mother’s headstone. “Mom would have wanted me to do whatever I can to help them.”

  “She would be distressed about Bram, of course. Rebecca was a wonderful, loving mother. But I’m not at all sure she would have approved of what Sean is trying to do. She decided to split her inherited land the way she did for a reason, you know.”

  Aiden shot him a puzzled look. “She wanted Bram and me to have our own parcels, ones with plenty of space and great views. She’d always hoped we’d both build homes there and raise families.”

  “But that wasn’t the only reason, Aiden.”

  Great. Now good old Father Michael was wading into the toxic family stew. “Just spell it out, Father,” Aiden said with a sigh.

  The priest gave him a patient smile. “Shall we take a little stroll?”

  As they walked back together to the flagstone path, Father Michael took up the discussion. “Your mother was a very private person, as you know, but she did need someone she could trust. Someone who would respect that privacy and not gossip.” He cut Aiden an assessing glance. “But I truly think she’d want me to tell you this now, given the urgency of the situation.”

  Aiden repressed his impatience—both with the topic and Father Michael’s meandering pace. “I know you think the car ferry and Dad’s land sale are going to spell the end of life as we all know it on Seashell Bay Island,” he said, exaggerating for effect. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

  “Aiden, you know your mother was never a proponent of that type of development here,” Father said earnestly. “But I’m telling you that her aversion to her land being used that way ran far deeper than people know. When she told me what she intended to do in her will, I understood for the first time how strongly she felt.”

  Now Aiden was listening hard.

  “Your father was livid about her intentions,” the priest went on. “He simply wouldn’t let up on her. She was quite desperate to talk to an objective third party.”

  “I can understand why she’d choose you, Father,” Aiden said.

  “Your mother regarded the land she’d inherited from her family as a sacred trust that had been handed down through many generations. Rebecca saw herself as a steward of that land, one charged with loving and protecting it for future generations. Your father, of course, believed that to be the height of foolishness. And a betrayal of him and his sons.” He grimaced, glancing at Aiden. “Your parents’ marriage had been troubled for a long time, but that was rock bottom for Rebecca. At one point, she even thought about cutting Sean out of the will completely. But she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it. Despite everything, she still carried a good measure of love for the man, and she understood all that he’d gone through.”

  All that he’d gone through? What the hell did that mean?

  Before Aiden could ask, Father Michael continued, “Rebecca decided to split the land up between the three of you, not just because she wanted her boys to live there, but because she wanted there to be only one way the land could be used for any kind of large-scale development. That was with the full agreement of her husband and both sons. It was the best way she could think of to protect her legacy.”

  Okay, that made sense. That was just the sort of thing Aiden’s proud, canny mother would do. Force the three of them to reach some sort of consensus if they wanted to develop the
land.

  But she also would have known that Bram would always back their father—which would place the burden of the decision on Aiden. Had she deliberately planned it that way? Probably, which made him want to let loose with a long string of curses.

  He mentally dialed back his anger and frustration. “You’re saying, Father, that she anticipated exactly what’s happening now?”

  The priest gave a little shrug as they circled behind the last row of gravesites. “You’ll draw your own conclusions about that, Aiden.”

  Now he did mutter a choice curse, not caring if Father Michael heard him. “Yeah, I’m drawing the conclusion that she was leaving it up to me to stop my father from doing something she’d think was stupid and wrong.”

  “I suspect that’s why she left you the block of land in the middle. Not the biggest parcel, certainly, but the prime one, is it not?”

  Aiden swallowed that bitter pill. He’d always thought she’d bequeathed him that piece because the two of them had talked about how perfect it would be for his house, perched out on the bluffs. But he’d been only ten or eleven at the time of that discussion. When his mom made her final will, she’d pretty much resigned herself to the likelihood that he’d never return to Seashell Bay.

  “Yes,” he said. Unlike his father’s scrubby acreage, Aiden’s land was on the bluffs, and that made it pretty much perfect for a resort.

  They came to a halt at the edge of the cemetery, Father Michael regarding him with eyes warm with sympathy. “I know you’re greatly troubled by your brother’s situation, Aiden. It has pained me too, seeing Bram change for the worse.”

  “I’m sure you’ve tried with him, but my stubborn-ass brother won’t listen to anyone.”

  “My point, Aiden, is this. Coming into a significant amount of money will not necessarily help Bram. I fear the opposite might be the case, in fact, unless he agrees to get some help.”

  Aiden grimaced. “I hear you.”

  “As his big brother, you’re in the best position to convince Bram to get the help he needs. Otherwise, experience has taught me that a person in his situation is almost certain to fritter any amount of money away and end up in an even worse position. That’s the way it is with any addiction.”

  Father Michael fell silent, waiting for Aiden to come to the inevitable conclusion.

  And dammit, how could he disagree? “I get it, Father.”

  “A windfall of money won’t fix Bram, Aiden. He needs a purpose, and he needs some kind of work to help him recapture his self-esteem.”

  Aiden inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of the pine trees in the grove behind the church. “But I’m afraid it may already be too late for Bram. Money might be the only answer we’ve got left to keep him from sliding further down the rabbit hole.”

  Dusk was coming on quickly now, with the last rays of the setting sun casting long shadows across the headstones. But it was still light enough to see the frown on the priest’s face.

  “I refuse to believe that, and neither should you,” Father Michael said. “Look, son, you may think I’m just trying to lobby you, and I won’t deny that I hope you’ll reject the developer’s plan for your lands. But I truly felt an obligation to honor your mother’s intent as faithfully as I could. If you think I’ve crossed a line, I sincerely apologize. I promise you I won’t raise the issue again.”

  As frustrated as he was, Aiden had no doubt his mother would have agreed with Father Mike’s decision to speak with him. “No worries, Father,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Thank you, Aiden. I hope to see you on Sunday.” The priest sketched a quick blessing before turning and heading back to the church.

  In the quiet of the darkening cemetery, Aiden stood as still as one of the gravestones. His mind churned with a thousand memories of his family and eighteen years of life on the island. Despite his Catholic upbringing, Aiden had never been especially spiritual or believed in a lot of woo-woo crap. But weirdly, coming home this summer was beginning to feel like some sort of destiny. He could almost laugh at the irony of it all—the guy who’d turned his back on Seashell Bay now held the key to its future.

  Chapter 16

  Hey, Lily?”

  Lily glanced back to see Aiden get up from his seat on the starboard rail and make his way toward her in the wheelhouse.

  She flipped up her sunglasses to peer at him as the sun suddenly disappeared behind a lone but massive cloud. “Something wrong?”

  “Nope, but I was wondering if you could rearrange that birthday dinner with your parents tomorrow night.” He braced himself against the back of her chair. “That is, if you were to get a more… uh, unusual opportunity to celebrate,” he added, sounding almost sheepish.

  Lily canted sideways to look at him while keeping one hand on the wheel. When this close to him, her body instinctively responded with a little shiver that skated over her skin. She forced her eyes to remain on his face, resisting the temptation to inspect a brawny frame showcased by the usual tight T-shirt and low-riding, snug-fitting jeans.

  Not that looking at his face was any hardship. With his dark stubble and rugged features, he reminded her of one of those male models or actors showcased in glossy celebrity magazines.

  Except better, because Aiden was the real deal.

  A real deal who’d been carefully keeping his distance all week, but now was suddenly invading her space in a big way. And honestly, she liked the way he loomed over her, all big and hard and masculine without being in the least bit threatening. At least not to anything other than her heart, that is. But why was he asking her about her birthday plans?

  With a shock, she registered the slow build of heat in his dark eyes, and then she knew. He was going to ask her out on a date.

  Her throat went tight. Not trusting her voice, she answered by tilting her head and giving him a silent, questioning look. She couldn’t fail to miss the wry cast to his smile, which told her that he knew his behavior was more than a little contradictory.

  “I know this is a surprise and it’s pretty late to be asking, but I’d really like to do something special for your birthday.” His hand drifted to her shoulder. He gave it a light stroke, almost like he was petting her. “After all, I’ve got fourteen years to make up for,” he finished in a deep, sexy voice that made her stomach do a funny little flip.

  Fumbling a bit, Lily grabbed the throttle lever and cut the engine. She was not going to have this discussion while the boat was still in motion.

  “This is kind of out of the blue, isn’t it?” Predictably, her voice wasn’t much more than a squeak. She pulled in a couple of deep breaths to steady herself.

  He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to think out here this week. My mind hasn’t been a hundred percent focused on lobsters and bait.”

  Lily tried to recapture some control over the conversation. “No? Then you’ve been falling down on the job, mister.”

  He laughed, and the sound lit her up like a falling star. Aiden so rarely laughed that when he did, it was like a bright burst of light.

  “Really?” he said. “After we’ve been hauling in close to record catches? I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t get cocky on me, Sternman,” she said in her best captain’s voice. But he was right. He’d been doing a magnificent job. They had formed a hell of a lobstering team, and her bank account was growing happier with each passing day. “But I’m all ears, so let’s get on with it so we can pull some traps while we talk.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am.” His dark gaze turned serious. “Lily, you’ve been working your tail off, and I think you could use a break. In fact, we both could. And before you tell me I’m crazy, I’m not suggesting we lose any fishing time. I’m talking about doing something late tomorrow and Sunday.”

  She’d already made it clear to him that despite it being her birthday, they’d be hauling until four o’clock, the legal limit on Saturday during the summer. There was no chance she’d miss a day of fishing when the traps were fill
ing up every day.

  “I’m listening,” she said. I’m listening so hard my brain might pour out of my ears.

  Aiden nodded, and now she thought he looked a little awkward, which was definitely intriguing.

  “Like I said, I want to do something special for you. Something fun. I talked to a buddy of mine by the name of Cole Rogers. He was a senior on the Peninsula baseball team when I was a sophomore. You wouldn’t know him, because he graduated before you were in high school.”

  “I remember hearing the name.”

  “Cole flew helicopters in the navy for years, and now he’s got his own charter operation in Portland. Flies corporate types mostly, but does some tourist excursions too. Anyway, he’s all set to fly us up the coast late tomorrow afternoon.”

  Lily stared at him, mystified. “You want him to take us on a helicopter tour of the bay for my birthday?”

  “No, not a tour. He’ll fly us up to a resort—a place he recommended on Penobscot Bay, not too far from Castine. We’ll spend the night there, and then he’ll come and take us back to Portland late Sunday afternoon. So I was hoping you could postpone dinner with your parents to Sunday.”

  She felt her eyes go wide. “You’re saying we would spend the night up there?” This time her voice came out in the Minnie Mouse register.

  Lily had indulged in more than one fantasy since Aiden arrived, ones that involved the two of them naked and between the sheets. Well, naked other places too. Could he possibly be proposing what she thought he was proposing?

  His smile was both tender and amused. “I guess I could have phrased that better. I’m talking about separate rooms, of course. I’ve already booked them, hoping you’d say yes. And the whole trip is on me, start to finish. All it’ll cost you is around twenty-four hours of your time. Nonfishing time.”

  Separate rooms, of course.

  Well, that certainly squared with the way he’d broken off their steamy session on the beach. But it hardly fit with his body language right now. Despite his casual grin, he loomed possessively over her, and she thought his hot, dark eyes were sending an entirely different signal.