Keeping Cape Summer (A Pelican Pointe novel Book 11)

by Vickie McKeehan

  With Merlin at his feet, he rocked back and forth, talking softly about things around them, things she didn’t understand. But he’d read on the Internet that it didn’t matter. Just talking to her was an important part of bonding. Her hearing his voice was important, the subject matter immaterial.

  Silas had harvested the corn that day, along with a batch of arugula and spinach, squash and zucchini. Nearby, in another field, Sammy sat atop one of the huge tractors, busy plowing a patch of ground where he’d replant kale and broccoli.

  They’d finished picking the cherries that day and a few workers were still carting them into the packing house.

  Simon waved to the seasonal farmhands, hard at work under the setting sun, their bodies bent, picking strawberries and blueberries destined for markets north and south.

  “The same crew comes every June,” Simon told Delaney. “They travel from the central valley to the coast and bring their families, live in trailers or RVs, camping out near the farm. I never understood until now just how hard that has to be, traveling from one farm to the next with kids in tow to find work.”

  Delaney answered with baby babble.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Simon returned. “Maybe we should do something about that. I can’t imagine doing all that moving around with you.”

  His perspectives were morphing into a man’s outlook that he didn’t quite recognize. But that was okay. Since mustering out of the Army, he knew well that change could often bring on a badly needed attitude adjustment. It could be a good thing.

  “Now you’re beginning to get the picture,” Scott said from the other side of the porch. “You’re here for a reason.”

  Simon slowly turned his head to see Scott sitting in the other rocking chair, swaying back and forth as if in sync with the harvester’s engine sounds. He tried to keep his voice level when he leaned past Delaney to answer. “I’m here to make sure farm workers have a better lot in life?”

  “Stop worrying. You’re not the next Cesar Chavez,” Scott cautioned. “Although you could speak to Nick about building better housing for the farmhands; a bunkhouse for the single guys would work. And maybe a few two-bedroom units for any head of household who wants to stay on for longer than a season. If you went out there right now and took a poll, most of those workers would tell you they’d love to settle down in one spot, but the opportunity just isn’t there. This farm is a tremendous cash cow. Finding the money for housing shouldn’t be a problem. Look at this place. It isn’t working for you and Delaney, but it could work for another family. You talking to Nick about hiring more permanent workers would eliminate the hassle each year of trying to find enough quality people to get the job done, folks who’ll stick around and send their kids to school in town and contribute to the community.”

  “Jordan’s right. You love this town.”

  “Everything about it deserves to be better.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Nick yourself? From what I hear, you don’t have a problem bugging anyone for any reason.”

  “I don’t need to bug Nick when I have you. Besides, Nick has other important things to take care of before going home to all the other necessary stuff he does for family. He’s spreading himself too thin. Maybe you should bring that up to him the next time he starts preaching to you about what’s wrong with your life.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “You like Gilly?”

  “Oh, God. Don’t tell me you’ve zeroed in on my love life.”

  “You don’t have a love life.”

  “Neither do you,” Simon shot back.

  “But you aren’t dead,” Scott countered. “You forget that I know what Amelia did to you. I know the real reason you haven’t bothered with women since you’ve been here.”

  Simon bristled, the hilarity gone. “Some things should be kept private. You don’t get to stick your nose into everything just because no one can stop you.”

  “Fair enough. But remember this. Gilly has her own secrets.”

  By the time he opened his mouth to respond, Scott was gone. He propped his chin on the top of Delaney’s head. “Remind me to tell you a bedtime story. No ghosts allowed.”

  Delaney pointed toward the strawberry field.

  Simon followed the track of her eyes and realized she was pointing at Scott, who was now standing in the middle of the farmland surrounded by the pickers. “Do you see that man?”

  “Man,” Delaney repeated.

  “Weird,” Simon muttered. “Very weird.”

  Ten

  Back in town, Gilly was dealing with her own weird scene. This one with her mother.

  Connie Grant had become agitated over seemingly nothing.

  “What has gotten into you?” Gilly said, her voice rising in anger. “I’m not asking you to babysit.”

  “You never listen to me, that’s what I’m saying. I’m telling you I don’t think it’s a good idea to start up with this Simon Bremmer fellow. He’s no good.”

  “Why? What did he ever do to you?”

  “Well, for one thing, he’s not that different from Jayden’s father. This guy got a woman pregnant and left her on her own to deal with a baby just like Vaughn did to you. I’d think you’d want to avoid men like that.”

  “So you’re telling me you know the details of what happened between Simon and Delaney’s mother? Really? Is that it, Mom? Did Simon confide in you while he was at the doctor’s office today and tell you the intimate details of his breakup?”

  Connie looked like she’d been slapped. “No. I didn’t even get into the exam room to have a conversation with him. All I did was read their charts…afterward. Although I did mention his situation to Margie.”

  Gilly narrowed her eyes, afraid of the quagmire in front of her. “Was there a need-to-know basis for you to go over his file? Were you looking for any details that had to do with a follow-up? Were you adding pertinent facts to their visit for next time? Were you jotting down notes for the follow-up appointment at the instructions of Dr. Blackwood? Or was your curiosity the only reason you read his file? Because otherwise every detail in that chart is confidential.”

  “I certainly wasn’t snooping, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “Sounds like it to me. Why is it you didn’t interact with them in the exam room? Isn’t that what you do? Take vitals and ask pertinent questions pre-exam?”

  Connie lifted her chin. “Yes. But Dr. Blackwood took care of it. Without me. I didn’t even get to draw their blood, something I’ve been doing since Dr. Blackwood was in grade school. He didn’t even come get me. It’s insulting.”

  “Mom…”

  “I’ve been working for him since March, ever since Sydney joined the hospital staff. I’ve done everything Dr. Blackwood has asked me to do, and more. And yet, he treats me like I’m not even needed or wanted.”

  Gilly tried again. “Mom…”

  Connie bowled right over her and went on, “I have a right to be angry when I’ve been nothing but loyal and fiercely supportive of him. I can’t help it if I’ve tried to streamline his patient load by making it easier for him. It’s time someone said no to people without the proper insurance.”

  Gilly was mortified. “What? You know good and well Doc Prescott never turned anyone away. Not a soul. I hadn’t planned on telling you this, but there’s growing rumors around town about your abrasive treatment of certain patients. Shelby Jennings said you swore at her last week. I overheard Dr. Nighthawk talking to Sydney about your surly behavior. Apparently, you had some negative interaction with him before he dropped the bomb that he was the new surgeon.”

  “He should have introduced himself to me the proper way,” Connie stated, still in defensive mode.

  “What’s the proper way?” Gilly fired back. “What’s going on with you lately? I never noticed this bitter outlook until just recently. You’ve always been so…so normal before you made the switch from San Sebastian to working here. It was supposed to be less stressful. Les
s of a commute. It was the perfect job. And you’re screwing it up by snooping in files, repeating what you read, and behaving like a jerk.”

  Connie dropped into a kitchen chair and put her head in her hands. “Honestly, I don’t know. I seem to be rude to everyone who gets within two feet of me.”

  “Maybe it’s hormonal.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m still on hormone replacement.”

  Gilly took a seat next to her mother. “Then what is it?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything, but I think some days I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t remember stuff. I get so angry whenever it happens that I just want to explode.”

  “Maybe you should see a specialist. Better still, talk to Dr. Blackwood.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s unhappy with me, with my work performance. I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve never been in that situation before.”

  “What makes you think he’s upset?”

  “Because he’s quieter than when I first started. Instead of us forming a workable bond and cementing our relationship, it seems we spend all day at odds with one another.”

  “Over the way you treat people,” Gilly concluded. “I’m beginning to see a pattern.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Start by talking with Sydney. She’ll know the best way to approach Dr. Blackwood.”

  “What if he wants to fire me?”

  “It couldn’t be any worse than waiting for the axe to fall.” Gilly put her hands over Connie’s. “I think it’s best to find out what’s causing you to feel the way you do. I’m sure the first thing Sydney will suggest is a head-to-toe exam.”

  “Maybe I should just go back to San Sebastian and see the doctor I had there.”

  “That’s nonsense, Mom. We have a perfectly good team in place here. Is there something you specifically don’t like about Dr. Nighthawk?”

  “No. He has good credentials. I looked him up myself.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Fat tears formed in Connie’s eyes. “If it’s something serious, I’m afraid everyone in town will know.”

  “That’s ridiculous and maybe a bit of an insult. We’re all professionals. We don’t go around gossiping about our patients. Privacy has always been paramount.”

  “Don’t you want to know what I found out in Simon’s file today?”

  Gilly looked horror-stricken. “No! Of course not. What did I just say? That’s an abuse of doctor-patient privilege and I don’t want any part of it. My God, Mom, you know better.”

  “See? I don’t seem to be able to help myself.”

  “This is worse than I imagined. It goes beyond being rude to patients. I want you to promise me you won’t…” Gilly stopped in mid-sentence. “Have you told anyone else what you’ve read in other people’s charts?”

  But before Connie could reply, Gilly could see the answer in her mother’s eyes. “Who did you tell?”

  “I might’ve mentioned to Ina Crawford that Abby Bonner was pregnant again.”

  “Before she told anyone else?”

  “And I might’ve told Emma Colter that Prissie Gates will probably need stomach surgery.”

  Gilly had heard enough and pushed back from the table. “You know what? I can’t believe I’m saying this. Maybe you do need to look for another line of work.”

  “What?”

  “Mom, what you did is so highly unethical I won’t even begin to defend you. I don’t even want to try.”

  “Gilly Grant, how dare you talk to me that way.”

  “How long have you been passing along privileged information? When did this start exactly? Were you doing this the entire time you worked in San Sebastian?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why did it start here? I thought this was your ideal job. When did you start becoming such a blabbermouth when it comes to patient files?”

  Connie hid her face in her hands. “A few months ago.”

  “That might explain why you’re so worried about going to see a doctor here and the fact you think the staff might blab about you, too. Unbelievable.”

  Gilly ran a hand through her hair and stood up to pace. “You do realize this will get out. Ina will say something to Abby or Emma, and in turn, someone will tell Prissie how they found out…about a personal medical condition that should stay private. This isn’t something we can hide anymore. The minute Dr. Blackwood finds out, he’ll can you so fast it’ll ruin your career.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  “I don’t know,” Gilly snapped. “Maybe keep your mouth shut and stop spilling what you know about patients until we can figure things out.”

  “I refuse to sit here and be spoken to like that,” Connie wailed. “I’m leaving.”

  Even though Connie had come for supper, Gilly didn’t try to stop her. “That’s probably a good idea. Unless you intend to tell half the town that we think Jayden might have an ADHD problem.”

  “What difference does it make? Julianne Dickinson will find out in two years anyway when he goes to kindergarten. I’m sure Neenah told her before I did.”

  Gilly looked betrayed. “Why did you do that? You know very well Dr. Blackwood said he might outgrow his impulsivity by that time.”

  Connie lifted a shoulder. “Neenah and I go way back. I was just trying to help her with Jayden’s problem when he acts out so much. Plus, she had some issues with his inability to sit still.”

  “He likes to blurt out the answers. So what? He’s three!” Gilly shouted, almost irrational in her anger. “I’ve talked to the other moms and their kids do exactly the same thing sometimes. They can’t all be hyper. Jayden shouldn’t be singled out that way.”

  “Why are you yelling at me? It’s not my fault something might be wrong with Jayden.”

  Gilly held her hands up to her face. “Oh, Mom. Just go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After Connie went home, Gilly booted up her computer to specifically hunt down any reasons she could find for her mother’s weird behavior. She made notes about Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s and compared symptoms.

  When it was time to put Jayden to bed, she read him a story and was grateful to get him down without a fuss.

  Back in the kitchen, she reached for the bottle of wine she had left over from the night before. Before draining the contents into a glass, she decided she needed someone to talk to instead. Out of desperation, she dialed Simon’s number.

  “Hi, have you put Delaney down for the night?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “I need a sounding board and you’re the first person I thought of. Jayden’s asleep so I can’t have this conversation in person. Is this a good time? It’s about my mother.”

  That last part had Simon reluctant to gab. “Uh, I met her today.”

  “I know. And I understand she was on the rude side.”

  “You could say that. For some reason she took an instant dislike to me. Ordinarily I wouldn’t mind that so much, but it also seemed to lap over to Delaney. I’m not sure what we did to make her act so…surly toward us, except that I showed up really early for my appointment, like two hours.”

  “Trust me, it was nothing you did. I’m beginning to suspect there might be something medically wrong with her.”

  “Like what? How does that work? She suddenly starts treating strangers like dirt? I’m the one who showed up early. She didn’t have to take whatever she was feeling out on Delaney.”

  “I agree. But I just had a huge argument with her and it was very revealing. She’s just not acting like herself.”

  “Sounds like an old sci-fi movie where the town is slowly replaced by alien lookalikes.”

  “If only that would explain it,” Gilly moaned. “I think she might be experiencing the early stages of Alzheimer’s.”

  “For real? Wow. That’s like my Aunt Lorraine. Although she’s not as testy. But now that I think about it, I wasn’t around when she started experiencing her symptoms. If you want, I
could ask my mother what Lorraine’s behavior was like back then.”

  “That would be great. The thing is I have this bad feeling she’s sick or something.” And with that one statement, Gilly let all of her pent-up frustrations out in the open, violating the mother and daughter pact that had been sacrosanct for years. She confided in someone other than her mom.

  Eleven

  Gilly still felt guilty about it the next morning, but not enough to ignore her mother’s strange behavior. She called Sydney, who set up a meeting with Dr. Blackwood for noon at the clinic. She hoped by meeting on a Saturday her mother wouldn’t suspect anything.

  Simon had agreed to watch Jayden at his place so that if Connie dropped by the house it looked like she’d gone out to run weekend errands and nothing more.

  She went through her closet, throwing on a plain white, short-sleeve ribbed top, pairing it with a dark green skirt that had big white and red flowers in the pattern.

  She fussed with her hair, eventually twisting it into a tight knot, unfurling a few loose strands to fall around her face.

  After loading Jayden’s gear and a few of his favorite toys into the station wagon, the pair headed for Taggert Farms.

  Winding through the countryside, Gilly pointed out the coastline to her son. “Look at that, Jayden. Waves! Whitecaps! See the boat way out there in the distance?”

  “Waves! Boat! Read the story!” Jayden shouted.

  The story he referred to was one Gilly knew by heart. “I’m driving, bud. But I can recite it from memory.” Dutiful mom that she was, she proceeded to deliver the tale about a tugboat captain and his loyal dog.

  It kept him entertained until she pulled up in front of Simon’s place. A huge hairy block of energy was the first thing to bound out of the house.

  “What is that?” Gilly screeched.

  From the porch steps, Simon called to the dog. “That’s Merlin. He’s big but harmless.”

  Gilly eased out of the car and went around to let Jayden free of his car seat. But when she set the toddler down, Merlin almost knocked him over.