by Marie Force
“Hey, babe. I’m just home from my mom’s and wondering where you are and what you want to do for dinner. Give me a call.”
Abby let out a groan. He hadn’t found the note she’d left in plain sight on the kitchen table. Knowing him, he’d gone directly to the fridge for a beer and was now sprawled on the sofa watching ESPN. The familiar image gave her a pang of longing for him that she quickly pushed to the back of her mind. She’d made her decision, and now she had to live with it.
She listened to his second, more urgent message with a growing sense of dismay. Was she going to have to tell him she’d left him? God, she hoped not. It’d been hard enough to write the note. She couldn’t imagine having to say the words, which was why she went with a text.
I left you a note on the table.
Oh, sorry, missed that. BRB.
Knowing full well what the note said, her heart beat fast and her hands got sweaty while she waited for him to read it. When the phone rang a third time, she took the call. She owed him that much after the year they’d spent happily together before it all went wrong.
“Are you serious?” The anger in his voice came right through the phone.
“Are you really surprised?”
“Hell, yes, I’m surprised!” His Texas drawl became more pronounced when he was upset. “You never said a word about leaving until you were gone. What the hell, Abby?”
“Nothing has been right between us since I got there. You know that.”
“I’m dealing with a crisis! I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to give you enough attention.”
“You think that’s it? Proves how totally clueless you are.”
“Will you please stop talking in code and tell me what the hell that means.”
“You have unresolved feelings for Candy.” Saying the other woman’s name made Abby feel a bit sick. “I’m not willing to compete with that.”
After a long stretch of silence in which Abby wondered if he was still there, he said, “Feelings for Candy. Right. That’s why I asked you to marry me, because I still have feelings for her.”
“You admitted you still think about her! I have eyes, Cal. I can see the way you respond to her. You never look at me the way you look at her, and I got tired of being the other woman in my relationship.”
“I cannot believe you didn’t talk to me about this.”
“I did talk to you. You said I shouldn’t worry about your feelings for her. I don’t agree. What’s there to say?”
“A lot! You left without even giving me a chance!”
“I’ve given you lots of chances. I got tired of being ignored.”
“And we’re back to that. My mom is sick. She needs me. I’m sorry if you felt ignored.”
“Your mom isn’t the only one who needs you. Candy does, too. You should be with her. The two of you have all kinds of history, and your mom loves her.”
“I don’t love her! I love you.”
“You do love her. You’re lying to yourself—and to me—if you deny it.”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re telling me who I love!”
Abby wiped away tears. “I left the ring in your top dresser drawer.”
“So that’s it? Over and done with?”
“I’m sorry, Cal. But I’ve done this once before—”
“You’re really going to compare me to Grant McCarthy?”
“The situation is similar. That’s the only comparison I’m making.”
“It’s not similar. I love you, and I made a commitment to you, which he never did. But if you don’t feel the same way, I can’t do anything about that.”
“I do feel the same way. I did…”
“Past tense?”
“It’s been very hard for me to watch the way you react to her, and to realize it wasn’t going to work out between us after all. It was very…hard.”
“I never meant to give you the impression anything was happening with her. I swear to you that’s been over for years.”
“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”
He released a frustrated sigh that she heard quite clearly through the phone. “Where are you?”
“Where else? Gansett.”
“You should’ve talked to me before you left.”
“Maybe so, but I knew you’d try to talk me out of doing what was best for me.”
“This isn’t what’s best for you or for me.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us, and I hope your mom continues to improve.”
“This is not over.”
“Bye, Cal.” Abby ended the call and turned her face into her pillow to muffle the sounds of her sobs. Not that anyone could hear her, but she was ashamed to once again be crying her heart out over a man who’d chosen something else—or someone else—over her. How many times in one lifetime was a woman supposed to get her heart broken?
Despite what he’d said, Abby had seen him with Candy enough to know the truth. Even if he wasn’t ready to admit it yet, she knew and wasn’t willing to waste any more of her life waiting around for him to figure it out. It was better to get out now before things got really ugly.
Disgusted with herself over the pity party, she wiped her face and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her eyes. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the red eyes and nose that looked back at her.
A knock on her door had her drying her face and running her fingers through her hair. Whoever it was would be able to tell she’d been crying. She opened the door to her mother. Could this day get any better?
“Oh Lord,” Constance said as she brushed by Abby on her way into the room. As always, every hair on her mother’s gray head was perfectly in place, and her outfit coordinated down to the pink espadrilles that matched the pink collar of the shirt that peeked out from under a designer sweater.
And as usual, Abby felt like a schlump next to her mother. She’d spent most of her life trying to measure up to her mother’s idea of perfection and had fallen short more often than not.
“By all means, come in. Please.”
“What happened?”
“A lot of things. None of it I wish to talk about.”
“You’ve been crying.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Save your sarcasm, Abigail.”
“How did you hear I was home? How did you know what room I was in?”
“It’s a small island. Word gets around. What’re you doing here when you could be with us?”
Abby raised her brows and let the expression speak for itself.
“Whether you believe me or not, I liked Cal. I wanted it to work out for you two. I was worried when you postponed the wedding—”
“Because his mother had a stroke, Mom. What would you have me do? Drag him to the altar when he’d rather be with his mother?”
“I never said that. I only wish you’d learned from the past and gotten married before you went after him.”
“Clearly, I haven’t learned a thing, but thanks for pointing that out to me. I hadn’t been thinking that myself or anything.”
“You’re in a mood.”
“Do ya think?”
“Maybe you two will work things out. Some time and space—”
“We’re not going to work things out. It’s over.”
Constance blew out a deep breath and sat on Abby’s bed. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t have much of a plan. I’m going to find an apartment and run the gift shop at the Surf this summer. After the summer, I’ll reevaluate.”
“I so wish you hadn’t given up your business.”
Abby wanted to scream, but she held her tongue. “Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?”
“I’m not your enemy.”
“I never said you were. But stating the obvious doesn’t help.”
Constance stood and hooked her pink-patterned purse over her shoulder. “Your father and I would do anything for you. I hope you
know that.”
“I do,” Abby said, blinking back new tears. Her parents’ intentions were always good, even if their standards were a little too high for her liking. “Thank you.”
Constance gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve missed you. It’s good to have you home, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Come see us.”
“I will.”
At the door, Constance paused and turned to Abby. “I’m sorry this has happened to you, but you’re a strong person and you’ll get through it.”
Her mother left before Abby could form a reply to the unprecedented compliment. She’d always felt like a failure in the eyes of her exacting parents. Sure, she’d always known they loved her, but they had been disappointed when she moved to LA with Grant without the benefit of marriage and even more so when she went to Texas to be with Cal.
“Enough of dwelling on the past,” she said to herself as she went into the bathroom and got out her makeup to repair the damage to her face. “This is my summer, and it’s time to start having some fun. Damn it.” Smiling at her reflection, she whispered, “Fuckin’ A,” and dissolved into giggles at the sound of a word she’d rarely used before today.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it was going to take a while before words like that rolled off her tongue naturally. But she’d get there. Starting tonight, everything was going to be different.
Dinner was the usual McCarthy family fiasco, and Adam loved every minute of the noise, the kids, the food, the love. Being surrounded by those who loved him best brought home once again how completely taken in he’d been by someone who hadn’t deserved his love.
He volunteered for grill duty so he could have a minute to get himself ready for some lighthearted family fun. After the trauma of the accident, his parents and siblings had enough on their minds without taking on his crap, too. Adam was determined to keep his problems to himself for as long as he could. He was, however, glad he’d told his dad. It was nice to have one person firmly in his corner. Well, Abby, too. She’d been very supportive, which he appreciated.
If only he could stop thinking about Sasha and trying to figure out when things had gone so wrong between them that she could sell him out for money without blinking an eye. Whatever had happened, he’d been completely oblivious.
He’d pictured her here, planned to bring her home sometime this summer. Up until now, he’d kept her a secret from his family because he knew how his mother got her hopes up at the first sign of a girlfriend. His siblings falling in love one after the other had bought him some time to keep his relationship private for that much longer.
Sasha… Adam hated himself for missing her, for wondering if she missed him or had regrets about what she’d done. He hated himself for thinking about the apartment they’d shared or what would become of all the things they’d bought together, back when they still planned a life together. Three whole days ago.
Who cared about wineglasses or sofas? He’d cared about her and had thought she felt the same. That was the part that truly galled him—how he could’ve lived with, slept with, made love with and worked with a woman who cared so little in the end that she could slide a knife in his back without a thought about all they’d shared.
“You cooking that steak or killing the cow all over again?”
Big Mac’s voice brought Adam back to the present, where he discovered he was jabbing the barbeque fork methodically into the steak.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you told me earlier,” Big Mac said. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, son.”
His dad had promised to keep the story to himself until Adam was ready to share his news with the rest of the family. “Shit happens.”
“Shit like this doesn’t happen. You got screwed, and what I’ve been wanting to know since you told me is what you’re planning to do about it.”
Adam flipped the steaks and stepped back from the smoke. “Nothing.”
“You’re just going to let go of the company you founded from the ground up?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Big Mac leaned against the rail, arms crossed, beer in hand. “Why?”
Back in the day, Adam would’ve wilted under the intensity of that stare. “Because I don’t care enough to fight for it.”
“You don’t care enough about the business you gave fourteen years of blood and sweat and tears to?”
“Nope.”
“I refer to my original question. Why?”
“I told you.”
“Stop the bullshit and tell me the truth.”
“It was a sign.”
“Of?”
“That it’s time for a change. In more ways than one.”
“And what will this change entail?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“If you need a job, you can work at the marina.”
Adam smiled at his dad. “I appreciate the offer, but the good news in all of this is they owe me a shit ton of money that they have sixty days to pay me. After that, I can do whatever I want.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t know yet. I’m assuming I’ll figure that out.” Adam looked at his dad. “Don’t tell, Mom, okay? She’s upset enough about the accident. I don’t want to give her more to worry about.”
“I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I won’t.”
“I’m already sorry I told you because I can tell you’re fretting over it.”
“Fretting is part of my job description as your dear old dad.” Big Mac wrapped a tree-trunk arm around Adam’s neck and hugged him. “We’ll get you through this, buddy.”
Adam didn’t dare say a word, so he nodded and held on tight to the man who’d been his rock. “Thanks, Dad.” When his dad released him, Adam looked inside and saw Carolina Cantrell come into the kitchen with Seamus O’Grady’s arm around her. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Carolina…dating him?”
“Who?”
“Seamus?”
Big Mac looked and then looked closer. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Nothing this awesome ever happens in New York,” Adam said, laughing. “Carolina looks like she’s being tortured.”
“He seems pretty pleased with himself, doesn’t he?”
“Seriously. I saw Janey earlier, and she never mentioned this.” Adam stacked the cooked steaks on a platter that he handed to his dad.
“Apparently, your mother has been holding out on me,” Big Mac said. “What do you say we go inside and get the dirt?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m going to give it to you anyway.”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Big Mac smiled. “You’ve been away from home a long time. A few weeks here might be just what you need to get your legs under you again and to figure out what’s next.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Don’t stay out here by yourself too long. There’s a whole houseful of people in there who love you and would do anything for you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
When he was alone, Adam grabbed a beer from the cooler and cracked it open, taking it with him as he wandered to the rail that surrounded the big deck. The sun was setting over the Salt Pond as he looked down upon the hotel and marina, filled with memories of summers spent on the docks or rolling down the hill at the hotel with his siblings.
Those had been good times. The best of times. Like his brothers, he’d yearned for a life away from the confines of the island where they’d been raised. However, like them, he’d learned the real world could be a cold, hard place. There was nothing cold or hard about Gansett Island. Rather, it was a soft place to land while he figured out what he planned to do with the rest of his life now that he no longer had to consider the business that had defined him for most of his adult life or the woman he’d hoped to sp
end the rest of that life with.
Just as he had the thought, his phone chimed with a text message. Used to being chained to his phone around the clock, he thought about ignoring it. But curiosity got the better of him, and he withdrew it from the pocket of his shorts. He couldn’t believe it when he saw it was from Sasha.
I’m so sorry, Adam. I made a mistake. Can we talk? I miss you and I love you. Please?
Adam wished he’d gone with his first instinct to ignore the text. She loved him? She sure had a strange way of showing it. He wanted to write back and say that, but he refrained. Let her suffer the way she’d made him suffer for days now. It had probably only registered with her that she was royally screwed without him to handle the technical end of the business, so naturally she was trying to make amends.
Too little, too late, he decided as he deleted the text and her name from his list of contacts. He had nothing left to say to her. If only it was that easy to erase the memory of her from his heart and mind.
“Son?” his dad said from inside. “Are you coming in to eat?”
Adam realized he was starving—for dinner and the company of his loving, if often exasperating, family. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
Chapter 6
Sitting at the McCarthy’s dining room table with Seamus’s chair far too close to hers, Carolina had trouble swallowing her food. Taking her relationship public was one thing. Doing it here was another thing altogether. She’d helped to raise Janey and her siblings, and the shock on the faces of Mac, Adam and Big Mac had been mortifying. Thankful for small favors, she was glad Evan and Grant hadn’t made it to dinner, but she was certain they’d hear her news before the day was out.
Apparently, Linda had refrained from telling anyone—even her husband—the news Carolina had shared earlier in the day. Thus Carolina’s inability to eat or breathe or make eye contact with the young people who’d been a part of her life since her son Joe befriended Mac McCarthy in kindergarten. What would they think of her now? The woman who’d stayed with them when their parents went on vacation, who’d shared holidays, birthdays, graduations and other milestones with them? Now she was sleeping with a man their age.