“Nope. I’ll start clearing the table. You get texting.”
Abby did just that and typed, Thank you for the picture of us. It’s one of my favorites, too. I was so happy to find your letter, and I love the roses. They’re beautiful. The judges just left. I have no idea how it went, but I hope it went well. Fingers crossed. I’m so nervous about the competition, and about us. I miss you. I wish you could have been here today. I wish I hadn’t gotten so mad at you. I wish we had talked more before you left. I’m so confused and scared. You really hurt me. I don’t believe you did it on purpose, but I don’t know what to do with all the hurt or how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. She stared at what she’d written, wanting to push send and barrel through that door, to believe Aiden was everything he claimed to be, but there was a tiny voice in her head warning her not to be her mother, not to rely on a man for her happiness. She needed to work this out in her own head and heart before she could even begin to work it out with him. With a ball of lead in her gut, she deleted most of the text and sent it off before she could overthink it.
Cait picked up a stack of dishes and said, “The hardest part is done. In less than forty-eight hours we’ll know if you’re the reigning queen or not.” They were announcing the winner at eight o’clock Thursday morning.
“You mean if we’re the reigning queens.”
As they cleaned up, Abby was acutely aware of her phone not vibrating with a response from Aiden. She told herself not to overthink that, either, and decided to drown her confusion and heartache with her drug of choice. “When we’re done, what do you say we treat ourselves to queen-size sundaes?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Aiden hung up the phone with Ben and walked into his hotel room from the balcony. He was sick of hotels, sick of meetings, and sick of phone calls. He was sick of everything that had once ruled his life. He sat on the couch and checked his messages, uttering a curse. He’d missed three texts from Remi and one from Abby. He opened and read the text.
Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful. The judges just left. Fingers crossed.
He sat back, staring at the message, missing Abby’s excited ramblings. He was debating how to respond, when Remi called.
Shit. He’d been avoiding her since he’d called her Sunday night, when he told her about his fight with Abby. He didn’t want to discuss it again, but he couldn’t continue avoiding her, or she’d make his life hell.
“Hi, Rem.”
“Hey. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Aiden. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
He didn’t respond.
“Listen, I’m going to call Carrie and book a flight. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Don’t, Remi,” he warned. “You know I have one meeting after another.”
“Then talk to me. I’m worried about you. You’re the guy who fixes things, not the guy who gets broken. Please talk to me? It’s hard for me to be a good mom to Olive and Patty when I’m worried about you.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face and said, “That was low.”
“It was honest.”
“Fine. You want to know how I am?” Too agitated to sit still, he pushed to his feet and paced. “I feel like I have a black hole in my chest. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. All I can think about is how much I hurt Abby. Okay? Feel better now?”
“No.” Her voice cracked, and he knew she was crying.
More guilt landed on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Remi. That wasn’t fair.”
“Yes it was. It’s my fault. I sent you to Silver Island. I pushed you to get a life.”
“Jesus, Remi. Don’t do that. Those were the best three weeks of my life. I should be singing your praises, not dumping my shit on you. I’m the one who fucked up. Not you.”
“Then fix it. Go see her!”
He gritted his teeth. “That’s not the answer. I can’t change who I am. You of all people know that. I’ve done enough damage. Bullying my way in to try to convince her I’m someone I’m not isn’t going to do anything but make her angrier. This time I’m doing things the right way.”
“Then you have a plan?” Remi asked hopefully.
“Yeah. Nose to the grindstone and get my shit under control. Listen, I have to go. I love you. Kiss the girls for me.” He ended the call and called Ben again.
“I’m in the middle of changing a diaper. What’s up?” Ben asked.
“Pull the trigger on the schedule we outlined.”
“I thought you wanted to think about the international travel and—”
“I’m done thinking. Do it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY–SIX
“WHAT DO YOU think?” Cait asked as she walked into Abby’s bedroom Thursday morning wearing the green floral sundress Abby had lent her for the announcement ceremony. Her feet were bare, and she curled her toes under. She crossed one arm over her stomach, the elbow of her other arm resting on that arm’s wrist, her fingers moving nervously over her mouth.
Abby pushed to her feet in her pajama shorts and Aiden’s T-shirt, which she’d found when she’d done laundry, and said, “Wow. You look fantastic. Move your arms. Let me see.”
Cait lowered her arms and said, “Are you sure?” She looked down and immediately crossed her arms over her belly. “Ugh. I’ll just wear my jeans.”
“No, you will not. You have a great figure, and you look beautiful. Please wear the dress. In fact, you should keep it because you look better in it than I ever did.”
Cait tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “I feel naked.”
“That’s because you’re used to the feel of denim hugging your skin. You don’t look naked.” Abby bumped her shoulder and said, “But I have a feeling Brant wishes you were.”
“He does not. He’s a big flirt.”
“Actually, he’s never been a big flirt. Wells is way flirtier than him. But for what it’s worth, I like them both a lot, so if there’s any interest on your part . . .”
Cait scoffed. “I’m not looking for a guy.”
“Okay, I get that. But I wasn’t looking when I met Aiden, either.” Anxiety prickled her limbs. She’d fielded good-luck texts from friends all morning, but she hadn’t heard from Aiden since Tuesday evening, when he’d texted, You’ve got this, Abs. No finger crossing necessary. She’d had no idea how to interpret such a generic response. But given her ricocheting emotions, she guessed that he was either on the same roller-coaster ride or he’d given up on her, which was why she hadn’t responded. She wasn’t ready to hear the latter.
Hope rose in Cait’s eyes. “Did you talk to him?”
She shook her head, and disappointment washed Cait’s hope away.
“Are you thinking about reading the letter from our mother?” Cait glanced at the letter Abby had forgotten she was holding.
“Maybe. I’ve been thinking about Mom and my dad a lot. I wish they were here.” She wished Aiden were there, too.
“They’re here in spirit.” She pointed at the letter. “Do you want me to be with you when you read the letter?”
Aiden’s voice traipsed through Abby’s mind. Do it when I get back, so you have me to lean on. She’d spent her life making sure she was never in a position to be so reliant on a man that she couldn’t stand on her own two feet if he left. And now here she was, standing on her own, doing all the things she needed to do, and doing them well.
Well enough, anyway.
But still she was swamped with longing, drowning in an emotional abyss caused by his absence.
“Abby?” Cait touched her arm, jerking her from her thoughts. “Do you want me to stay while you read it?”
“No, thanks. I think I need to read it alone.” To prove to myself I can get through anything.
“Okay, then I’m going to finish getting ready.”
Cait walked out, and Abby looked at the letter. She ran her finger beneath the sealed edge, opening the envelope, and heard the sound of tires on gravel. Aid
en! She ran to the window and saw Brant’s truck backing down the driveway with a boat on a trailer. He was probably there to wish her luck. Or maybe he was there to see Cait.
She went downstairs and headed outside, waving as she descended the porch steps.
“Hey, Abby,” he said as he climbed from his truck. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks.” The grass tickled her bare feet. “That boat looks like my dad’s dinghy, except I think his is in dire need of repair.”
“I’m guessing Aiden didn’t tell you he asked me to clean her up for you?”
“He . . . ? No,” she said, choked up for the hundredth time in the last few days.
“Yeah, the morning after we all had dinner a couple of weeks ago. When he borrowed the pressure washer. The house looks great, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said absently, trying to remember when she’d told Aiden about her dad’s dinghy.
“The trailer’s yours, too.”
“He bought me a boat trailer?” That was so Aiden. She blinked repeatedly to keep the tears burning her eyes at bay.
“Can’t get her down to the water without one. Fixed up the sail, too.” The sail was rolled up and secured to the boat with bungee cords, as were two new oars. “This little gal sure is a beauty. It was a pleasure cleaning her up. Where do you want her?”
“Um . . .” She was still hung up on the fact that Aiden had arranged for all of this and had never said a word about it. “You can leave it there. My garage is a mess.”
Brant unhooked the trailer from his truck and said, “Did Dee come in for the announcement?”
“No. She couldn’t get the time off work.”
“And Cait?” Interest sparked in his eyes.
“She’s inside getting ready.”
He straightened the bill on his blue baseball cap, grinning as he said, “I’ll be there pulling for you two. I promised Aiden I’d video the whole thing. He’s pretty bummed that he can’t be here.”
“You talked to him?” she asked, hope rushing through her veins. If he wanted Brant to video the event, then maybe he hadn’t given up on her.
“Not since he left. He just texted to confirm that I was still planning on videoing it for him.”
“Cait offered to video it for him,” Abby said as the thought popped into her mind.
“She can’t do that if she’s onstage with you accepting the award, can she?” He winked and said, “Good luck. I’ll see you there.”
“Thanks.”
As he drove away, Abby ran her hand along the wooden edge of the boat. It looked brand-new, with the upper third newly stained and gleaming and the lower section painted forest green. She realized she was still holding the letter from her mother. She’d been thinking about her parents so much, the boat felt like a sign.
She climbed carefully into the dinghy, settled into a small space between the sail and the side, and opened the letter. As she read, she heard every word in her mother’s voice.
My dear, sweet Abby,
If I know you as well as I hope I do, you’re reading this letter long after I’m gone. You’ve taken your time getting to a place in your life where you feel you can handle it. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and known exactly what you wanted and what you needed to do to get there. I was a little jealous of that. I’m sure you’re shaking your head right now.
Abby realized she was, and tears slipped down her cheeks.
Your downfall is putting others—and the need for stability (which is my fault)—ahead of your own dreams. But you’re stronger than you know, sweetheart. Even stronger than Didi, which I’m sure you won’t believe. The difference is that you face your insecurities head-on, and Didi has never been able to. Maybe one day you can help her with that. Like you, she’s terrified that some of my bad traits have rubbed off on her. (Yes, I am aware of your insecurities. I’m your mother, after all.)
Don’t worry, honey, they haven’t. They couldn’t. Neither of you is broken in the way I am. I’m not talking about alcoholism—that’s just a by-product of never really healing from my past. By now you’ve met Cait, and I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I’m sorry I’m not there to answer them. I had never loved anything or anyone as much as I loved Cait until I met your father. He saved me from myself. I started drinking right after I was forced to give up Cait. Your father gave me what I had always been missing. Unconditional love. He gave me a purpose and helped me live my life instead of hiding from it.
Abby thought of Aiden and the way he’d said they’d both been hiding behind work.
When we had you and Didi, I learned that I could love each of you as deeply as I loved Cait. But I’m not strong like you girls are. I was a troubled kid, and while I found my way with your father, when we lost him, I lost myself. I drank to numb the pain of missing him, and you girls paid the price for my weakness.
To say I’m sorry for what I put you through would be a gross understatement, but I’m going to say it, because I am sorry for letting you down, for making you grow up far sooner than you should have, and for all the emotional scars I left you with.
Abby swiped at her tears.
You girls are the light of my life, and I’m so very proud of you. Despite my mistakes, you’ve grown into bright, independent adults, which is why I chose not to tell you I had so little time left when I found out how sick I was. I’d given you enough heartaches. I know you, Abby, and you would have wanted to come home and take care of me, to make sure I knew you loved me. I couldn’t do that to you, but rest assured, I know you love me despite my flaws. That’s your greatest gift, seeing the heart and soul of a person rather than only seeing what others see. I hope you never lose that ability. You remind me so much of your father. I hope one day you’ll work a little less and allow yourself time to find someone as wonderful as he was. Someone who appreciates and supports your strength to stand up for yourself and who’s not afraid to challenge you, because you need that, too. You don’t do well with pushovers.
Abby moved the letter out of the path of her tears.
You know who you are, Abby. Don’t ever doubt that. I hope you will continue to dream, to be stubborn, and to follow your heart wherever it may lead because a strong, determined woman like you can’t get lost the way I did. Your light is simply too bright. It will always guide you down the right path.
Live on, sweet girl, and don’t waste your energy looking back. Chase your dreams and make them all come true. Daddy and I will be cheering you on from above.
All my love,
Mom
Abby looked up at the sky through a blur of tears and said, “Thank you. I needed this.”
The front door flew open, and Cait walked out looking beautiful in the sundress. “Abby? Whose boat is that? We have to leave in twenty minutes.”
Shoot! Abby scrambled out of the boat and ran toward the house in her bare feet and sleeping shorts. “It was my dad’s boat. Brant brought it over.”
“You’re not even showered yet?” When Abby got to the porch, Cait said, “Oh no, you’re crying. Are you okay? Is it Aiden? What can I do?”
“It’s . . . everything, but I’ll be fine,” Abby said quickly.
Cait looked at the letter. “You read your letter?”
“Yes. You should read yours.”
“It made you cry. I think I’ll wait on that. You sure you’re okay?”
“I will be. No more looking back. It’s time to chase our dreams.”
Cait nudged her through the front door and said, “Okay, but first I’m chasing your ass upstairs. You need to get ready, because one of my dreams is seeing Wells Silver’s face when they announce the Bistro as the winner!”
There was standing room only at Majestic Park, where Patrick Osten, the mayor of Silver Island, was preparing to step up to the podium. A banner reading BEST OF THE ISLAND RESTAURANT COMPETITION hung across the back of the amphitheater, and red and white balloons bobbed from strings tied to the railing of the steps leading up to the sta
ge. Abby stood with Cait, fidgeting with the plunging neckline on her peach maxi dress as they waited for the contestants to be called up for the announcement. Cait was equally nervous. She’d been tugging at the hem of her dress since they left the house.
They were both overwhelmed by the number of people who had already wished them luck today. Abby hadn’t even known half of them. As much as she wanted to win the competition, even if they lost, it was enough knowing so many people were cheering on the Bistro and welcoming her and Cait into the community with open arms.
“Why are we so nervous?” Abby asked. “We already did the hard work.”
“I have some more to do,” Cait said.
“What do you mean?”
Worry riddled Cait’s brow. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I love working with Tank and everyone at Wicked Ink, but I also really love being here with you and working at the Bistro together. Would you mind if I tried to do both, but got involved here in a bigger way? I can handle the accounting and inventory, maybe hostessing?”
“Are you kidding? I would love it if you could be here more often.”
Cait exhaled loudly, putting her hand over her heart. “That’s great.”
“How could you even think I wouldn’t want that?”
“I didn’t really, but I was nervous about it. I don’t want to step on your toes or for you to feel like you have to let me do more.”
“Trample on my toes, sister. The Bistro is yours as much as it’s mine and Deirdra’s. Now I’m excited! Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t have it all figured out, but I could work here more over the summer and with Tank over the winter. Or possibly start doing tattoos and piercings here and also work more at the Bistro, and then work with Tank a couple of days a month. I don’t know the best way to schedule my time, but we can talk about it, and I’ll definitely figure something out.”
“This is going to be fabulous.” Abby hugged her.
“There they are!” Shelley waved, pushing through the crowd with Lenore and Faye Steele, Shelley’s ex-sister-in-law.
“Can you believe how many people turned out for the announcement?” Shelley exclaimed. “Abby, you remember Faye.”
Maybe We Will (Silver Harbor) Page 37