Brad turned, lifting his gaze to Kaye for confirmation. He loved corn.
Kaye shrugged. “You should have called.”
“We ate the last of it,” Stacy pressed. “The farm stand won’t have any more for the rest of the summer. You lost out, pal.”
“Stop teasing your brother.” Kaye turned toward the sink to hide her smile. “Honestly, you sound like children.”
It was wonderful to have them home.
Connor led Brad outside and Ryan followed. To Kaye’s disappointment, Chase returned to his den.
“Should I start the dishes, Mom?” Stacy asked.
“No, don’t worry—I’ll get them later,” Kaye replied as she made her way to the washing machine in the mudroom. The duffels were filthy, the clothing inside undoubtedly worse, and since Brad was probably wearing the cleanest outfit he owned, it would be best if she got started. If she got the first load in now, at least he’d have something clean to wear tomorrow. The fact that he’d brought his laundry home for her to do made her happy. It didn’t matter how old her son was; it was nice to know that she was still needed, even for something as basic as laundry.
Kaye made her way across the kitchen and froze.
Someone had entered her home. The woman stood in the mudroom as if she had every right to be there though Kaye didn’t recognize her. She looked to be close to Brad’s age, maybe a little younger. Her outfit was wildly inappropriate even for a tourist, which Kaye assumed she was. The woman’s black bra was clearly visible underneath her thin crop top and her shorts too short and much too snug. A frayed hair-tie secured a mess of blonde hair piled on top of her head and it seemed as if every inch of her earlobe was studded with earrings or hoops.
After a moment, Kaye reasoned the girl must have come with Brad—a friend, maybe, who had given him a ride.
“Can I help you?” Kaye prompted. In the spirit of hospitality, Kaye would offer the girl a cold drink and a chance to use the powder room before she went on her way.
“I’m Iona,” the girl replied, in a casual tone that assumed Kaye already knew who she was. She looked past Kaye and into the kitchen. “Where’s Brad?”
Kaye blinked.
Behind her, she felt a stir of air as the screen door opened then slapped shut. Her son entered the kitchen, walked over to the girl, and draped his arm over her bare shoulders.
“Mom, this is Iona.”
The girl leaned her body against Brad’s in an irritatingly possessive way. She lifted her chin. “Hey.”
Kaye released the fabric handle of her son’s duffel; it landed on the floor in a shower of dirt.
Iona walked past them, into the house, into Kaye’s kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and removed the plate meant for Brad. “Is that caprese salad?” She unwrapped the plastic and with grubby, unwashed hands, lifted a slice of tomato from the plate and popped it into her mouth. “This is good,” she said, her mouth filled with crushed tomato. “Good balsamic too. You wouldn’t believe how much of it is imitation these days.” A drop of balsamic dripped down her chin and she swiped it away with the back of her hand.
Kaye tore a section of paper towel from the roll and pushed it toward the girl.
The screen door slapped again and Stacy walked into the house. “Mom, do you have any bug spray? The candles aren’t…” Her voice faded and she looked at Brad for an explanation.
“Stacy, this is Iona.”
“Hi. I’m Stacy, Brad’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.” Stacy’s smile seemed genuine but Kaye knew her daughter well enough to see what was behind it: protectiveness.
Ryan made his way inside too, followed by Sophie and Connor who wanted a story and needed a bath. Ryan introduced himself, seemingly obvious to the tension sparking in the group of women. Chase came into the kitchen shortly afterward, welcoming Iona as he would any visitor, making Kaye ashamed of her own behavior. This girl was a guest in Kaye’s home and should be treated like one.
“We have more stuff in the car. I’ll just go get it.” Brad picked up his car keys and headed toward the door.
“I’ll give you a hand.” Ryan followed Brad out the back door, their voices deep and echoing against the wood paneling of the mudroom. Stacy took Connor and Sophie upstairs and Chase retreated to his den once more.
That left the two of them alone, Kaye and Brad’s friend.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” Kaye moved toward the cabinet for a glass. “Water?”
“Oh yeah, a mineral water would be great.” The girl slid into one of the stools along the breakfast bar and slumped across the surface, oblivious to the smudges of dirt she left on the granite. “I’m so into mineral water lately. Can’t get enough of it.” She lifted her head. “What do you think that means?”
“We have a few bottles in the bar—I’ll get one for you.” Kaye set the glass on the counter and headed for the bar in the den.
By the time she returned, Iona had helped herself to a plate of crudités from the refrigerator and was crunching on a slice of red pepper. “Do you have any hummus?” Iona tilted her head to the side. “Brad and I have been practically living on hummus.”
“I’m afraid we’re all out.” Kaye’s patience was rapidly coming to an end. Hopefully, her stay would be short. Brad knew the rules for visitors.
“No biggie. I saw something else that looks just as good.” Iona returned to the refrigerator and removed a jar of pesto Kaye had bought at the Italian market in Plainsboro before she left. It was Ryan’s favorite, made with roasted pine nuts and aged cheese. She’d intended it to be a surprise for her son-in-law, a gift for his part in persuading Stacy to come. Before Kaye could stop her, Iona popped the seal and stuck her finger into the jar.
“This is pretty good,” she said, as she licked her finger.
“I’m so glad you approve.” Kaye’s sarcasm was lost on the girl.
“Do you have any sourdough?”
“Bread?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I guess any kind of artisan bread is fine for now,” Iona allowed as she stuck her finger back into the jar. “Brad can take me shopping in the morning and he’ll buy what I like.”
There was not enough air in the room for the deep breath Kaye needed to steady her nerves. She managed a tight smile as she crossed the kitchen to the bread box on the corner counter and slid open the lid. Behind the fresh loaves of sourdough and rye was a plastic-wrapped loaf of cheap white bread. The loaf was light and squishy, the sides collapsing as Kaye grabbed it and pulled it out. She placed it on the table in front of Iona.
Duck bread.
A doughy loaf of cheap bread for the grandchildren to feed to the ducks on the salt pond.
It wasn’t her finest moment.
Then she imagined how horrified Chase’s mother would be about Kaye’s lack of hospitality and Kaye sobered. No matter how this girl appeared, she was Brad’s guest and would be treated as one. She set the breakfast bar properly, with placemats, napkins, and silverware. She’d offer them both a proper meal. She set food out just as Ryan and Brad returned with the luggage, this set looking very different from the one before. These suitcases were newer, brightly colored, hard-sided and branded with a designer label Kaye recognized. Iona’s, Kaye assumed, since she’d never known Brad to travel with much more than faded canvas duffels from L.L.Bean. Ryan set a matching backpack down on the floor beside the rest. It was decidedly feminine.
“You’re just in time,” Kaye called to them. She pointed to the powder room down the hall. “Brad, go wash your hands. I’ll give you both some dinner.”
Luckily, Iona decided to join him, giving Kaye a chance to catch her breath. And plan. It was unexpected, her son bringing this girl to the shore house, even though Kaye knew Iona wouldn’t be staying for long. Brad and Stacy both understood that while friends were welcome to visit, only family stayed longer than a few days. Summer at the shore house was for family only.
Stacy retur
ned from bathing Connor and Sophie. Her sleeves had been rolled to her elbows and wisps of hair had tumbled from her ponytail.
“Ryan, you’re up,” she called to her husband, who had slipped out to watch part of the ball game with Chase. “The kids want their dad.”
“On it.” They heard the stairs creak as Ryan went up. Stacy leaned against the doorframe and yawned.
Brad and Iona returned to the kitchen and settled in the places Kaye had set. But almost immediately, Iona dragged her stool across the floor to a position that was so close to Brad as to be almost on his lap.
Brad smiled at his mother. “Lobster roll night—the best part of being at the shore. I’m glad I didn’t miss it.”
“You didn’t miss it,” Kaye answered. “I told Betty I thought you were coming and she made them up special, with extra mayonnaise and celery salt, just the way you like them. I’m afraid there are only two left, but they’re meaty and should tide you over until breakfast.”
Stacy snarked from her place in the doorway, “If I’d known Mom was saving them for you, I’d have found a way to eat them. In fact,” she said with a smile, “I think I’m hungry again. I should eat.”
“Forget it.” Brad bent over his plate to protect his dinner from his sister, swatting her away with his free hand. “Pregnant or not, I will take you out if you get in between me and Betty’s lobster.”
“Babe.” Iona’s voice cut through the hum of activity in the kitchen. “What about Oregon? Our agreement?”
“What agreement?” Stacy asked.
Iona pushed a tangle of hair from her face. “We’ve joined the Zero Footprint Movement. We posted about it on Insta—don’t you follow us?”
“What does this have to do with lobster rolls?”
Iona’s expression hardened. “Among other things, it means we’re vegan.” Iona slid the plate out of Brad’s reach and went to the refrigerator to retrieve Ryan’s jar of pesto.
“Vegan,” Kaye echoed. “So, no meat or dairy?”
“That’s right,” Iona said, as she popped the lid and swiped the contents with her finger. “We have to be considerate of other living things.”
“There’s aged Romano in that pesto. That’s what makes it taste so good.” She turned to her son. “And you agree with this? You’re vegan as well?”
Brad shrugged and the spark in his eyes faded. “Sure, I guess.”
It was a small thing, not worth getting upset over, but Kaye couldn’t help herself. She was annoyed that this girl, someone she’d never met, could hold such sway over her son. She wanted to shake some sense into him, force him to follow his own mind, but of course she couldn’t. Her son was a grown man, not a child who could be reminded to make smart choices. She removed the plate and was encouraged when Brad’s gaze remained on his beloved lobster rolls.
Iona must have noticed it too. She frowned and dropped her voice, as if she were speaking to a child. “Bae. We agreed.”
When Brad exhaled, Kaye knew she’d lost.
“You’re right: we did.” Brad turned to Stacy. “You can have it.”
Stacy shook her head. “It’s fine. I don’t want it.”
During the exchange between her children, Kaye had kept her attention on Iona. She saw a glimmer of satisfaction flicker across Iona’s face, then disappear just as quickly. As if she’d won.
What kind of game is this girl playing?
Kaye forced a smile, then left the room. Nothing good would come from engaging this girl, especially since Brad clearly had feelings for her. Kaye would just have to do her best to be cordial until Iona left.
When Kaye reentered the kitchen she saw that Iona had pulled her stool even closer to Brad’s and sat with her leg hooked over his, feeding him pieces of raw cauliflower from the platter.
Iona’s cell phone buzzed and she lifted it to look, a hint of a smile on her lips as her thumbs tapped the screen. “We’re getting Insta-likes, babe. Our hike pictures from Oregon are blowing up, especially the one where we pledged to join the movement.”
“What’s an ‘Insta-like’?”
“Social media, Mom,” Brad answered. “Iona has an account and it’s gaining followers.”
“We have an account and we are gaining followers,” Iona corrected. “We’re going to be huge. You just wait and see.”
“What’s the picture?” Kaye looked over Stacy’s shoulder as Iona tilted the phone screen.
The picture was one of Brad posing on a mountain path in a forest, looking completely at ease and utterly charming. He held himself with a confidence that came from a lifetime of playing sports in both high school and college. In the picture, the foreground was a maze of deep green ferns, soft moss, and polished river rock. Behind him, a jagged mountain range stretched across a spring sky, deep blue and clear. Brad stood with his arm draped around a trail marker, shades of dappled light from the pine trees above falling across his head and arms.
“The hiking one’s the best yet, babe.” Iona flicked through several pictures, all of them Brad. All of them versions of the same pose.
Kaye looked closer at the pictures, this time with a mother’s eye. She ignored the exclamation-pointed comments, the heart emojis, and the likes from admirers, and concentrated on her son. What she saw was a plastic smile and a blank expression. And she was not pleased. The man in the picture looked nothing like the son she’d raised, the quiet boy who could lose himself in an afternoon playing quietly with building blocks and wooden trucks. And Iona looked as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
Between her two children, it had always been Brad who needed Kaye’s guidance the most. Where Stacy was fiercely independent and frustratingly strong-willed, Brad was a follower who hadn’t yet found his way. In high school, he played team sports—lacrosse in the fall and rugby in the spring. In college, he changed his major six times, and to this day Kaye wasn’t entirely sure if he’d even earned a degree at all. After graduation, he picked up a backpack and took off to see the world, working odd jobs when he needed the money. He always seemed to be looking for something but never quite finding it.
Kaye filled a glass with filtered water. “Brad, would you please bring this to your father? He’s in the den watching the game.”
“Sure.” Brad slid off the chair.
Stacy’s gaze cut to her mother, then back to Brad. “I’ll go with you.”
After they left, Kaye took a moment to gather her thoughts. This would be tricky.
“So, Iona. How did you and Brad meet?” Kaye picked up a sponge and wiped the counter, though it didn’t need to be done.
When the girl didn’t answer, Kaye asked again.
Her attention had been on the screen. Iona held up her index finger. “Sorry, just one second—I have to reply to this comment.”
Kaye returned the sponge to its holder, leaned against the counter, and waited.
Iona’s movements were languid, as if she had all the time in the world, and it wasn’t until the girl snorted at something on her screen that Kaye realized Iona’s behavior was deliberate. Kaye was being made to wait on purpose.
So that’s the way of it.
Iona finished her typing and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “I’m sorry, what was your question?” She tilted her head as she spoke.
Kaye would not be baited again. She offered a smile. “I asked how you know my son. How did you meet?”
“Oh, that. Brad was with a bunch of guys in New Mexico and I joined the group. When the guys went home, Brad and I hooked up.” She pulled a fork from the drawer and walked toward the pie.
“That’s not vegan.”
“Excuse me?”
“The pie.” Kaye pointed. “It’s made with lard.” She smiled, genuine this time. “The lard is what makes it good.”
Iona shrugged. She turned, removing a bottle of iced tea from the shelf of the refrigerator door, popped the top, and sipped.
“And the pictures? Where did that idea come from?”
Ion
a looked at Kaye with a glint in her eye that Kaye did not expect to see. She swallowed another mouthful of tea, then set the bottle on the counter and straightened. “That was my idea actually. Brad and I like to travel, and the pictures pay for it, if they’re curated and managed correctly.” Iona reclaimed her place on the stool. “When we get enough of a following, we’ll use our platform to bring awareness to causes that are trending. We can use our social-media platform to eventually crowd-fund our documentary. No one’s thought of that yet. We’ll be the first.”
“Documentary?”
“Yeah.” Iona sighed, clearly losing patience explaining a grand idea to someone who didn’t share her vision.
“You’re making a documentary?”
“That’s the plan. Didn’t Brad tell you?”
“No. He did not,” Kaye replied.
After a few moments, Brad and Stacy wandered back into the kitchen from the den.
“Is your father okay?” Kaye asked.
“The game’s still on but he’s asleep,” Stacy answered with another yawn. “I think I’m going up too. It’s getting late.”
Iona went to Brad and tucked herself under his arm. She leaned against him, practically purring. “I’m tired too, bae. I think we should go to bed.”
“Okay,” Brad agreed. “Mom, do you have anything I can wear? My stuff’s dirty.”
“I’ll get something from your father’s closet.” Kaye squeezed her son’s arm as she moved past him. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll meet you upstairs.” Iona tilted her head. “Which bedroom is ours?”
Kaye hesitated. “I thought Brad could stay in his old room and you can have the guest room at the back of the house. You’ll like it back there. It’s very comfortable, sunny and light in the morning.”
“But—” Iona’s eyes narrowed, then darted to Brad. “I thought we’d sleep together.”
“Oh, I’m afraid not.” Kaye interjected. “There are young children in the house, and you and my son are not married.” She paused, just for moment. “I’m sure you understand.”
Iona’s eyes narrowed, in a look meant for Kaye alone. “We’ve been dating for quite a long time.”
The Shore House: An emotional and uplifting page turner (Dewberry Beach Book 1) Page 10