“I’ve been thinking about this day for months, since Ava told me she was sick,” Shelley said. “The first thing you need to know is that I did ask Ava to do this herself, just as I’d wanted her to tell Abby and Deirdra that she was sick and her diagnosis was terminal. But she wasn’t strong enough. She felt she’d already been enough of a burden on you girls when you were growing up, and she couldn’t . . . well, she couldn’t do any of it.”
“Do what, Shelley?” Deirdra asked matter-of-factly. “Please cut to the chase. We’re all adults here.”
“You’re right.” Shelley inhaled a deep breath and said, “Here goes. Deirdra, Abby, when your mom was seventeen, she got pregnant, and her parents made her give up her daughter.” Her eyes moved compassionately to Cait. “Cait, honey, you are Ava’s eldest daughter.”
The earth shifted beneath Abby, and her gaze locked on Cait, who looked like a deer caught in headlights, her lower lip trembling. Abby mentally cataloged her features. Tall, lean, green eyes. She had the same high cheekbones as their mother, the same curve to her lips. Was that jet-black hair her natural color?
“What?” Deirdra snapped. “Mom never said anything about having another child.”
Shelley covered Cait’s hand with her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know she didn’t, and I know this is a shock to all of you, but it’s true. Your mother didn’t want to give up her baby. Cait. But her parents were overbearing, and she was only seventeen. She had no other option. Her parents arranged for a private adoption, and even at seventeen your mother knew Cait would have a better chance at a life with her adoptive family than she would with a teenage runaway, which is what she would have had to do at the time to keep her.”
A tear slipped down Cait’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. Deirdra looked stuck somewhere between stunned disbelief and frustrated confusion, so Abby picked up her chair and moved between Deirdra and Cait. She put her arm around their half sister and said, “Are you okay?”
Cait nodded. “I’ve just . . . I’ve always wondered why I was given up for adoption.”
“Of course you have, honey.” Shelley squeezed her hand again and said, “Ava loved you very much. I wish I could have convinced her to do this, to meet you, but Ava was an alcoholic, and she wasn’t strong enough to handle it. I think she knew she was sick long before she was diagnosed, because she told me all of this before she saw the doctor the week after Christmas.”
“How did she . . . ?” Cait asked softly.
Shelley’s eyes dampened. “Metastatic liver cancer. By the time she saw the doctor, it had spread throughout her body. She passed a few weeks later.”
More tears spilled down Cait’s cheeks. Abby stroked Cait’s back and said, “I’m sorry you never got a chance to meet her.”
“Maybe she’s better off that way,” Deirdra said.
“What Deirdra means,” Abby said, glowering at Deirdra, “is that the last several years were hard because our mom was drinking, but when we were young and our father was alive, our mother was amazing.”
Cait looked at Shelley and said, “Did Ava run away from her overbearing parents?”
“Yes,” Shelley said. “She left home shortly after the adoption was finalized. She landed here on the island a little less than a year later and got a job working for Dee and Abby’s father, Olivier.” His name was pronounced O-liv-e-ay. “Once they were married, Olivier helped Ava track you down. But Ava made the very brave and very difficult decision not to disrupt your life by trying to get you back. And I’m so sorry, Cait, but Ava wasn’t sure who your father was. She said it could have been one of two of the teenage boys she was hanging out with back then, but she’d lost touch with them when she moved.”
Cait lowered her eyes.
Abby’s heart was breaking for her. What was she feeling, hearing about her birth mother for the first time and knowing she couldn’t meet her? Learning she had two sisters? Abby was excited to get to know the sister she never knew existed, despite the skepticism on Deirdra’s face. She knew how that skepticism could burn, and she also knew Deirdra would come around, so she put her energy into making sure their new half sister was okay.
“It looks like today is our lucky day,” Abby said cheerily. “We have another sister to get to know.”
Cait’s eyes shot up to hers, and her lips twitched into an uncomfortable, disbelieving smile.
“No offense, Cait, but I have to ask a hard question,” Deirdra said. “How do we know for sure that Cait is actually Mom’s daughter?”
Shelley pulled a thick packet of documents out of her bag and said, “It’s all right here. Copies of the adoption papers, her birth certificate, all of your mother’s legal documents—birth and death certificates, social security card, medical records. The paper trail is there, Dee.”
Deirdra began scanning the documents.
“Ava left the house and the business to the three of you in equal shares, along with her life insurance money.” Shelley put another stack of documents on the table and said, “She didn’t have much insurance. It comes out to about twelve thousand dollars each.”
Cait shook her head, fidgeting with the envelope she’d brought with her, her gaze trained on it. “You two can have my shares. I didn’t know her.” She looked up and said, “But I would like to hear about her.”
“Of course,” Abby insisted. “But she left those things to you, Cait. They’re yours.”
Cait’s eyes shifted warily to Deirdra.
“She’s right. They’re yours,” Deirdra said in a softer tone. “You might have noticed that I have some resentment toward our mother, but it’s not aimed at you. I’m sorry if I came across lawyerish or cold.” She smiled and said, “I am a lawyer. I may not be as warm as Abby is, and I don’t get mushy over memories the way she does, but I’m not a cold bitch. So I’m sorry.”
Shelley looked at Deirdra and said, “I see you’ve still got your father’s penchant for honesty.”
“Except she doesn’t cushion things as well as Dad did,” Abby said, earning a smirk from Deirdra and a silent smile from Cait. “Cait, you also need to know that there’s a hefty offer on the table from an investor who wants to buy the Bistro.”
“Oh? In that case, it looks like you girls have even more to talk about today,” Shelley said as she gathered her things.
“I can’t stay,” Cait said softly. “I have to get back to work.”
“Oh, okay. Do you think you can come back tomorrow or another day? We have a lot to talk about, and I really want to get to know you,” Abby said, hoping Deirdra hadn’t scared her off for good.
Cait was quiet for a long moment, shifting nervously in her chair. Abby couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in her head. Hoping to sway her decision with the lure of sisterhood, she said, “You can stay with us. We haven’t cleaned out Mom’s room yet, but you can stay in the apartment above our garage, help us go through Mom’s things, and learn about who she was.”
Cait smiled cautiously. “Thanks. I’d like that. I’ll talk to my boss tonight about getting a few days off and will try to come back tomorrow.”
“Great,” Abby said, thrilled that she wanted to try to come back.
Deirdra said, “I’m here until Friday morning. I’d like to get to know you, too, if you can get time off.”
Relief swept through Abby, and she saw that relief mirrored in Cait’s expression.
“Okay.” Cait pushed to her feet and said, “It’s all overwhelming. I think I’ll go back to the ferry and try to wrap my head around everything. Can we exchange phone numbers in case I can’t get time off?”
As they exchanged numbers, Shelley said, “Do you need a ride to the ferry?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind. Thank you,” Cait said, sounding more at ease. “I took an Uber here.”
“No problem.” Shelley turned to Abby and Deirdra and said, “Jules is anxious to stop by and see you.”
Shelley had three daughters, Sutton, Leni—Abby’s bestie
—and Jules, and three sons, Jock, Archer, and Levi. Jock, Archer, and Jules lived on the island.
“We know,” Abby and Deirdra said in unison.
“She sent a group text trying to set up a girls’ night.” Jules was the queen of group texts. “But everyone is so busy, we haven’t been able to coordinate schedules.”
“My little social butterfly keeps the island girls hopping,” Shelley mused. “Just you wait, Cait. Jules will sweep you into her net, too.”
“That ought to be interesting.” Cait picked up her chair and said, “Is it okay if I help put these things away before we go?”
“Of course,” Shelley said.
As Abby and Cait carried their chairs inside, Abby said, “Cait?”
“Yeah?” She turned, her eyes moving over Abby’s shoulder to Shelley and Deirdra talking on the patio.
“I was wondering if you have other siblings . . . or if you want siblings . . . ?”
“I don’t have any siblings, but . . .” She stood up taller, her gaze filling with confidence. “I know your mother threw us all for a loop—”
“Our mother, Cait. I don’t see you as an outsider.”
“Right. Okay. Thank you, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to include me in the business, the inheritance, or your lives. You don’t have to get to know me just because your mother made a mistake.”
“First of all, don’t refer to yourself as a mistake. Second, as far as the business goes, it’s one-third yours. Whatever happens to it will be one-third your decision.” She was surprised by her vehemence, but Abby didn’t like anyone feeling uncomfortable . . . ever, and this was her sister. “If our mom thought you were a mistake, I don’t think we’d be standing here right now. I don’t feel pressure to get to know you. I want to get to know you. We’re sisters, Cait, and that means something to me. It’s a special connection, and yes, it’s new for all of us, but it’s not unwanted. You’re not unwanted. Are we? Deirdra and I?”
Cait’s lips pressed into a firm line as she shook her head. “I don’t have any siblings, but I don’t want pity.”
Abby knew all about not wanting to be pitied. When she was younger and all her friends were playing and she and Deirdra were helping their mother at the restaurant because it was either that or starve, she hadn’t wanted pity, either.
“The hell with pity.” Abby rarely cursed, but this called for it. “How about friendship?”
“I could use a few friends.”
“Good, because so can we. My sister—our sister—and I are workaholics, but Deirdra is even worse than me. And now you know she’s not a warm and fuzzy person. But she’s pretty fantastic anyway, and before Mom spiraled into alcoholism, Dee was a whole different person. We both were. Maybe you can help us find ourselves again.”
“I barely know who I am half the time,” Cait said flatly.
“That makes two of us. And you know what? Mom did throw us all for a loop. She was good at that, so maybe I’m used to it. But we share a mother, and who knows what else we have in common. We could have gone our whole lives without knowing about each other. Bringing us together was a purposeful move on her part.” Abby looped her arm around Cait as they walked toward the door and said, “You were no mistake, Cait. You’re our gift, and maybe we’re yours.”
Cait’s eyes pooled with emotion.
“Shelley said she has something else for us,” Deirdra said as she carried a chair into the restaurant.
“Okay. Let’s get the last chair and the table inside first.”
As they walked outside, Cait said, “You’re not freaked out by all this?”
“Sure I am. But when you grow up with an alcoholic parent, you learn that you can handle a lot more than you ever thought possible. Besides, my boring life needed a little upending.”
“Maybe we do have a few other things in common,” Cait said.
Abby carried the last chair inside, and then the three of them moved the table, and she locked up the restaurant.
“Okay, ladies. I know your heads are probably spinning, but Ava left you each one more thing.” Shelley pulled three envelopes out of her bag and handed one to each of them.
Abby’s chest constricted at the sight of her name written in her mother’s loopy handwriting on the front of the envelope. She thought back to the notes her mother used to put in her lunches, but like everything else, that had stopped after Abby’s father died. She pressed the envelope to her chest, reveling in the good feelings, hoping the letter would shed more light on Cait and their mother’s thoughts in her last few weeks.
“I’ll get right on opening it,” Deirdra said sarcastically as she shoved the letter into her purse with the other documents.
Cait stared at the envelope, running her fingers over her name.
Shelley touched her arm and said, “It must be weird to see your birth mother’s handwriting for the first time.”
A spark of amusement rose in Cait’s eyes, and she said, “Almost as weird as meeting my sisters for the first time.”
When they hugged Cait goodbye, she was more at ease than she’d been at first. Abby waved from the parking lot as Shelley drove away with Cait.
“Wow, Dee,” Abby said. “We have another sister.”
“Did she look like Mom? I think she looked like Mom. Her cheekbones, her eyes?”
“I noticed that, too. I can’t believe Mom never said anything.”
Deirdra rolled her eyes. “Why are you always surprised by her inability to do the right thing? She failed us for nineteen years.” She leaned against the side of the car, looking at the restaurant, and said, “We’re going to sell this dump, right?”
Abby knew they would never agree, but maybe they didn’t need to. Deirdra had worked hard for her career, and she seemed to love it despite the endless hours. Abby had long ago become disenchanted with the reality of working under someone else’s thumb. She gazed at the Bistro, seeing something so different from what her sister saw and remembering happier times—times that even all these years later, she’d never again come close to experiencing. She didn’t want to forget them.
She wanted to bring them back.
A flutter of excitement rose inside her, and she realized that what Deirdra saw as a burden, she saw as their legacy.
“I can do this, Dee,” she said confidently. “I can bring Dad’s restaurant back to life, and you won’t have to give up anything.”
“I hope you’re kidding. Abby, you’ve come so far. Let this go. You’ll lose money hand over fist, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, or lost, or go broke.”
“I’ve been hurt before and still landed on my feet. I was lost when I first went to New York, but I found my way, and I might go broke, but I believe in myself. I think I can do this and turn a profit. I want to do this, Dee.”
Deirdra motioned toward the car and said, “Get in.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the house to talk this shit out. Then I have a week’s worth of work to do in two days, so we need to figure out how I can get it all done while guzzling a bottle of wine.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT ARE YOU planning to check off your list today?” Aiden’s sister, Remi, asked over the phone Thursday morning.
The dreaded list.
He adored his sister, who was twelve years his junior and whom he’d raised after they’d lost their parents in a tragic car accident. Remi had grown up and become an A-list actress, but ever since she’d fallen in love last year and taken a step back from acting to marry her onetime bodyguard Mason Swift and they began fostering two girls—or as Remi said, ever since she’d gotten a life—she’d been on a mission to force him into getting one, too. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a life. He had a good one, which he enjoyed, even if it was consumed with work. He owned and invested in businesses and real estate all over the world. But he’d do anything for Remi, which was why he was on Silver Island in the first place. She’d swindled him into taking his first nonwork
ing vacation, and he’d let her pick the location.
The truth was, he’d been ready for a brief vacation. A day or two without work, which was about how long he’d lasted before researching the Bistro and putting in an offer to purchase it. It was too good of an investment to pass up, not that he’d clue Remi into his business dealings. He hadn’t even told his business partner, because Remi had ears everywhere, and she’d somehow managed to get him to agree to a four-week work-free vacation. She’d also given him a list of things she wanted him to do while he was on his work-free vacation, and she wanted him to provide proof in the form of pictures.
He had no idea what the hell he’d been thinking when he’d agreed to her cockamamie plan.
“I don’t know yet,” he said as he opened the bag from the Sweet Barista and began setting out breakfast on the patio of the Bistro. Yesterday he’d met the owners of the Silver House, Alexander and Margot Silver and their son Fitz, and last night he’d joined them for dinner. The Silvers had been happy to lend him a few things for his breakfast with Abby—a white linen tablecloth, a vase for the rose he’d bought, a sugar bowl and creamer pitcher, and two elegant place settings. He’d made it clear that he wanted to avoid island gossip and would appreciate their keeping his request under their hats. They’d been more than happy to comply.
Remi huffed out a breath. “You’d better get on that, don’t you think? If you think there are no ramifications for not completing the list, you’re wrong, Mister.”
“Remi,” he warned in his best older-brother voice, which hardly ever worked anymore.
“Don’t Remi me. I want you to be happy. You gave up your whole life for me. You were just starting out when Mom and Dad died, and I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I’m married now, Aiden, and I’ve got my own family to take care of. You’re finally free. You can have a real life now.”
Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor) Page 3