Kelli laughed. “I know. I was there. I have about four hundred photos to prove it.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. How much longer would she show off these teenager tropes? Perhaps they would float away from her soon when she had children of her own and learned the weight they brought upon your heart and your shoulders.
“I would really like to sign up for business classes,” Lexi continued. “Alongside managing the boutique, I looked at some online classes out of Boston College. They look cool. Management and advertising and marketing, things like that. Maybe I can fill my head with actual knowledge instead of just the pages of Seventeen magazine for a change. What do you think?”
Kelli’s heart brimmed with pride.
“Aw, come on, Mom. Don’t look at me like that,” Lexi offered, blushing. “Let’s just talk about it later. I have to run.”
“Wait—” Kelli called as Lexi stepped out of the screen door.
But at that moment, Kelli’s phone buzzed with proof of bigger fish to fry.
XANDER VAN TRESS: I hope you’re not ghosting me?
Her heart dropped into her stomach. How celebratory that all had been! How she’d longed to draw up the paperwork for Xander Van Tress to purchase the property at the Cliffside Overlook. She had even thought she might help him with the reconstruction, lending over the blueprints and hand-selecting period-appropriate wallpaper. She was certainly an optimist, despite all the universe’s best efforts against it.
Kelli inhaled sharply and drummed up that long-lost Sheridan-Montgomery women's confidence. She lifted her phone and dialed his number and listened to two, then three rings as he probably stared at his phone, wondering what the hell she was doing.
Xander’s voice sounded cold, almost sinister.
“Hey there.”
Kelli remembered that glittering day upon the Nantucket Sound as she’d stood, so barren, in just her bikini with her chin lifted as the sun had billowed up countless freckles across her nose. He’d said he liked them.
Was this the same man?
Had she ruined everything with her silence and fear?
“Xander. Hi. I have a lot to tell you,” Kelli said. It was better to be straightforward, wasn’t it? Even if he wanted nothing to do with her. At least then, she could say what she wanted to say and be done with it without any lingering doubts.
They decided to meet at the Sunrise Cove Inn Bistro. It felt appropriate to do it there, where Marilyn had found peace all those years before. Kelli jumped in the shower and allowed the steam to billow through the room; the piping-hot water became like razors across her back. She turned off the water and stood lost in her thought. What a strange journey this all had been.
Her car window’s reflection gave her a final view of herself prior to their lunch meeting. Her hair looked curly and a tiny bit wild— as it had that day on the sailboat and her neckline was slightly too low, proof that maybe she wasn’t dead just yet, that, in fact, she wanted things far more than words could say. She wore a long skirt with gladiator sandals and gold bangles that jangled on her wrist. Had she worn something like this with Mike, he’d have told her she looked like a working girl. And in fact, she just looked like every other fashionable woman on the Vineyard.
Mike knew nothing. But then again, it was thanks to Mike that they’d learned all of this about Marilyn Sheridan. So wasn’t that something?
Xander was seated at the corner table in the Sunrise Cove Inn Bistro. He sipped a mimosa and leaned back steadily in his chair. His chin lifted toward the glass window, and his eyes were seemingly captivated by the rolling waves. That was the thing about the ocean. You could look at it endlessly and never grow tired of it.
“Xander. Hi.” Kelli paused at the table before she sat.
When Xander’s eyes found her, she knew instantly that the outfit was a success. He gave her that playful smile, as though all was forgiven, and stood to greet her with a tender kiss on the cheek. They were friendly if nothing else. Now, it was up to her to fight for the “everything else” part.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Kelli said. She sat across from him as her heart performed a tap-dance across her diaphragm. She spotted Christine toward the bakery portion of the bistro and gave a little wave. Christine immediately struck into action and appeared with a fresh platter of croissants and a new pitcher of mimosa.
“Family gets treated like kings and queens around here,” Christine told Xander. “You’re in luck to be with a Montgomery girl.”
Xander’s smile was infectious. “I remember her from your family get-togethers. Killer baker. I think she told me she’s worked across the world.”
Kelli nodded. “My sisters and I were pretty jealous. She was in Paris, Stockholm but mostly New York. But I think she struggled for a long time to find herself.”
Xander nodded tentatively. “All that chasing after something can kill you. Especially in the city.”
Kelli’s heart shifted with sorrow. She imagined Xander alone, waging war on his life without anyone who truly loved him around.
“I take it you and your father weren’t always together as a partnership?”
“No. We were apart for many years. I think, in a sense, he saved my life.” Xander shook his head as though to clear the cobwebs. “But I didn’t come here to discuss myself. I came here to talk about the property, which I would still like to buy if you haven’t received some kind of a better offer. To be honest, I’d just top that offer at this point. I can’t imagine not owning that property. There is so much magic there. And it’s been wasted for so many decades. It’s heartbreaking.”
Kelli dropped down and removed the book from the library, and splayed it across the table between them. She flashed a finger down toward the base of the photo, where her grandmother stood.
“That’s my grandma. Her name was Marilyn,” Kelli started as she glanced at him then back to the picture.
Xander’s eyes widened as he began to comprehend the weight of the story to come. “I see.”
“In this photo, she was married to this man. James Peterson.”
“But he isn’t your grandfather?”
“No. This man right here is. Apparently, Robert was the owner of the hotel at the time of this photo— but ownership was passed at the last moment to James Peterson before he abruptly left the island forever. He’s owned the property all this time. And nobody ever knew about this story. Not my parents, certainly, otherwise they wouldn’t have been attempting to sell this place all these years.”
Xander nodded firmly and sipped his mimosa.
Kelli grinned. “You’re not fazed by this at all, are you.”
“No. I’m not. It’s an incredible story. But it doesn’t change anything,” Xander affirmed.
“I mean, it changes the fact that I can’t sell it,” she pointed out.
“Sure, but you now know who this guy is. Why can’t we track him down? Figure out what he wants to do with it? It seems to me that the property has been wasted all these years and now it’s time to do something about it. We can’t just sit on an old story and wait for something to happen. It’s up to us to extend the storyline.”
Kelli’s smile faltered. The enormity of her feelings toward him was difficult to describe. She shook her head and reached across the table to slip her fingers through his. He looked almost caught off guard, but only almost.
“You don’t seem afraid of anything, the way I’m afraid of stuff,” Kelli said softly.
Xander gripped her fingers harder. Something exciting quivered in the base of her belly. How she longed to go home with him, to go anywhere with him. His eyes captivated her. His acceptance of life and its many inconsistencies and bizarre storylines thrilled her. She wanted to be more like him and she wanted to love him, too.
“I gave up on feeling afraid,” he whispered. “It wasn’t serving me. And it isn’t serving you, either.”
They held one another’s gaze for a long moment. Then, he nodded and said, “I think we should find James P
eterson— together. Do you have any leads?”
Kelli flipped through the old folder that the lawyer had brought her. There, just as ever, was his business card. She dialed the number as Christine brought them out a wide platter of eggs, bacon, vegetables, and cheese. She left with a wink, her hand extended over her belly. Kelli’s heart swelled with love.
“Hi there,” Kelli announced. “My name is Kelli Montgomery, and I am very interested in speaking with your client, James Peterson.”
The lawyer who had vaguely threatened her now sounded terribly professional. “The only problem with that, I’m afraid, is that he’s quite deceased. You could meet with his son, however, the last remaining. He lives in New York City. Let me contact him.” He paused and then admitted, “I didn’t think you’d cooperate when I went all that way. I assumed I would have to take some sort of legal action. I’m a bit mystified by it all as it’s rare to meet kind people who listen to reason.”
The man hung up after that, leaving Kelli in a state of confusion. She pressed the phone to the side of the table and blinked back up into Xander’s eyes. He wagged his eyebrows playfully and lifted his fork.
“While we wait, I guess we should eat this delicious selection of food?”
Kelli laughed. “I thought you’d never say so.”
It was a rare thing to relax in front of someone enough to eat with them, especially so early on. But Kelli found herself eating voraciously, following him bite-for-bite, as he told her about what he’d done to occupy his time while he assumed she was “ghosting” him.
“I hate this term,” Kelli laughed. “Ghosting!”
“Yes, but you don’t know what it’s like out there,” Xander told her. “I’ve dated so much in New York. Ghosting is an illness. It’s pervasive.”
“It sounds kind of weak. Like you do it if you’re scared of something, scared of the truth,” Kelli affirmed.
“That’s right. And if there’s anything I want to face, it’s the truth,” Xander said, just as the lawyer called her back.
“All right. He wants to meet. Can you be there tonight?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Christine poured them two piping-hot cups of coffee in takeaway cups and remained in the doorway of the Sunrise Cove Bistro as Xander and Kelli slipped into Xander’s convertible and prepared for the journey ahead. It was just past one in the afternoon and once they got off the ferry, New York was a five-hour drive away. As Kelli glanced at herself in the mirror, she shivered with a mix of intrigue and fear. Xander gave her a sidelong glance, to which she responded, “I haven’t been off the island in over a year if you can believe it.”
Xander’s smile was electric. “I’m happy to be the one to take you out into the wide world, Miss Montgomery. Shall we?”
When the ferry landed in Woods Hole, Xander shifted slowly, softly in line with the other vehicles as they rode back into the light of the summer’s day. Kelli told him that growing up on the island meant you had a rather complicated relationship with the concept of tourists.
“In some respects, it feels like they swarm your home. In others, the first sight of them means good things to come. It means barbecues and sailing competitions and bonfires on the beach. It means beautiful people in luxury clothing running around with bright smiles on their faces. And most of all, it means income. It’s historically when the island makes all it needs for the year ahead.”
“Can’t live with them and you can’t live without them,” Xander recited as he slowly shifted gears and then ramped up speed, headed toward the highway that would draw them south and then west, along the coastline, toward that other island, the one of fame and glory and billions of dollars. The one where, long ago, Kelli’s grandmother had resided for only a few months alongside her first husband, a man who had belittled her in much the same way Mike had belittled Kelli. How strange.
“What do you listen to on road trips, Miss Montgomery?” Xander asked.
Two or three minutes of silence had passed, during which Kelli’s mind had raced with panic.
“Hmm. You’re leaving this important choice up to me?”
Xander shrugged. “It’s a test.”
“Oh, wonderful. I love tests,” Kelli said. She flicked around the stations until she landed on an old tune that she’d always loved.
“Ah. A deep-cut Nirvana?” Xander’s eyes glittered as he leaned his head against the car seat. He seemed to dip back into his old memories as his lips parted.
“I was into all of this stuff when I was younger,” Kelli told him. “I guess I thought I was something of a cool girl in high school.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have even looked twice at me.”
Kelli laughed aloud. “I doubt that very much.”
Xander lowered the volume the slightest bit as the guitar sound grew increasingly raucous. “But really. I’m curious. What were you like in high school? What would I have thought of you had I met you?”
It was a funny thing— the fact that Kelli had spent the previous days diving deep into her grandmother’s past. Now, to shake off the previous thirty years of her own life, beyond the kids and the trauma of having an abusive husband, to really see herself as a teenager: it was a difficult thing. She set her jaw as she visualized herself all those years ago, with a walk-man around her ears as she listened to alternative nineties music and wore her choker necklaces and thought, very much, that she had total control over her own destiny.
“I was very self-assured during those years,” she finally said with a funny grin.
“What do you mean?”
“I just felt very confident. I knew what kind of music I liked. I knew what I wanted to wear. I knew that the world saw me as a beautiful and confident and youthful creature, and I used that to my advantage. I suppose that’s why my husband eventually fell for me. I think he coveted what I felt, and he somehow used that, stole that power from me.”
Xander’s face fell. “That’s a terrible story.”
Kelli shrugged. “I’m just now trying to comprehend the weight of my own story— trying to add it all up in my head in a way that makes sense. I think we can slip through life without truly comprehending the things that hurt us. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to look at everything bravely, full-on. Does that make sense? I feel like I’m talking a bit crazy.”
Xander turned his head the slightest bit and removed his gaze from the road. His eyes were fully focused and clear.
“It makes so much sense, Kelli. So much sense,” he told her firmly. “And your bravery makes me want to continue to fight my own instincts. Become a better person, whatever that looks like. I think every year, if you don’t tap into yourself and see how you’ve advanced from the previous year, then you’re allowing time to have its way with you.”
Kelli nodded as the wind tore through her hair and across her cheeks. She imagined trying to have a similar conversation with Mike. He wouldn’t have allowed it. He would have belittled this as “silly banter that is wasting precious time,” then probably disappeared into the kitchen for a bag of chips and some beer. On instinct, Kelli reached over and slipped her fingers through Xander’s hand. His skin was warm, and his grip was strong, powerful. She felt protected, even as they surged down this great American highway, with only the bright July sky above.
XANDER’S NEW YORK CITY apartment was located only a few blocks from Charlie Peterson’s place, which allowed them to park in his extended parking, in the belly of the great beast that was his high-rise apartment. Xander even knew the valet working. His keys erupted from his hand as the valet leaped for them, as though they’d performed this very action time and time again.
“I thought you’d never come back,” the valet told Xander as he tossed the keys into the air, making them jangle.
“You know I’ll always be back in the city,” Xander returned. He then placed a hand at the base of Kelli’s back and introduced her. “This is Kelli Montgomery. She’s been helping me secure a new property on Martha�
�s Vineyard. This one came with its own share of technicalities.”
“Sounds fascinating,” the valet said as he wagged his eyebrows. “Good to meet you, Miss Montgomery.” He then leaped into the convertible and drew a line off into the darkness, where the car would remain parked until they returned home.
It seemed incredible to Kelli that when they did return home, they would do it together, like some kind of team.
Xander led her out to the foyer of his immaculate high-rise building and greeted the doorman in a similar fashion. He again introduced Kelli, then jumped into the elevator, explaining that he wanted to check on some things, including his plants.
“I didn’t know I’d have the pleasure of seeing your home,” she told him as the elevator doors closed.
“It’s no Vineyard,” Xander affirmed. “But I have loved it all these years. It’s my little oasis in the city.”
“Little” was probably not the adjective Kelli might have chosen to describe the enormous apartment. She stepped into the beautiful, brightly lit space and felt blown away with the attention to detail, the iconic furniture, and the artwork that adorned the walls, assuredly worth somewhere in the millions of dollars.
Xander eased through his apartment without pause. Kelli wanted to tease him about this— that he no longer had to look at his immaculate paintings, at his glorious sculptures, as he’d grown too accustomed to them. When he paused at the counter of his kitchen, he caught her eye and gave her a funny smile.
“You must think this is all overkill,” he said finally. “And admittedly, I agree with you. I went a little overboard when I first decorated the place. I was dating an art collector at the time, and I told her to really go for it.”
Kelli whistled. “She followed your rule to a T.”
“I was featured in several art magazines,” he continued as he hunted through his cabinets, eventually procuring a small watering can. “And interviewed about my artistic eye. But in truth, I could sell half of this stuff and not blink an eye. The beauty of the place lay in the creation of it. Now that it just sits without anyone in it for most of the time, it’s wasted. Art is meant to be appreciated. It’s why I don’t always know how to feel about art museums. Shouldn’t art always be around us?”
A Vineyard Rebirth Page 14