Layla leaned down and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Gran. I’m here, and I’ll protect you.”
She sat with Gran until the nurse came in. Exhaustion invaded her body, and she walked out of the room on legs that seemed made of jelly. She looked around the hallway in a daze. Nurses hurried by, doctors strode past in lab coats, people wheeled equipment, phones rang, and hushed conversations buzzed in the air.
The world continued moving along, while Layla’s had come to a halt. Then her gaze stopped on the tall, lean figure leaning against the wall across from Gran’s room. She drew in a quick, startled breath, wondering if she was seeing things.
“Grayson?”
He straightened and walked up to her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she answered, her throat tightening as the tears she’d fought to hold back struggled to the surface. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard what happened. I would have come earlier, but I knew you’d be distracted, and I didn’t want to intrude.” His mouth quirked. “Then your friend Noah called.”
“Noah?”
He chuckled a little. “Yeah. Told me to stop being an idiot and get over here.”
“So you came to see how Gran is doing? That’s sweet of you.”
He reached up and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m worried about your grandmother, but I’m not here for her.”
She turned her cheek against his hand. “You’re not?”
His head shook back and forth, and he pulled her closer.
Layla sighed and rested her head against his chest. “It’s awful seeing her like that. She looks so small. And then to top it off, my mother is back. She thinks she can waltz in and have everyone forgive her. Can you believe that?”
“What?” Grayson eased back and tilted her chin. “Did you say your mother?”
Layla bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to say that. She wasn’t ready to think about, let alone talk about, her mother’s return. “Don’t ask,” she said. “Just stand there and hold me.”
“Okay.”
And he did.
That night, Barbara dreamt that her daughter came home. Through a haze of exhaustion and pain, she heard Elizabeth’s voice.
A hand touched her cheek. “Oh Momma.”
“Elizabeth…” She tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t manage more than a slit.
A gentle hand stroked her cheek. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’ll be better soon.”
Joy mixed with the crushing weight of guilt. “Bethy…I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault.”
“We were so stupid. So stubborn.”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
“I’m so tired,” Barbara said, struggling to come out of the fog that muddled her mind and body.
A kiss brushed her temple. “I know. Just rest.”
“Bethy,” she said as she drifted back to sleep.
“Don’t worry,” Beth whispered back. “I’m here now, and I’ll be here for all of you.”
Chapter Nine
Layla drove with Aunt Grace to the hospital the next morning. The sky was clear except for a few wispy, white clouds, and the sun shone brightly enough to burn the retinas. Or maybe that was the result of a sleepless night.
The car remained achingly…painfully…quiet. The day after Gran’s heart attack – one day after the second coming of Elizabeth McCarthy – the tension was thick enough to cut with a chain saw. Layla couldn’t remember ever exchanging an angry word with Aunt Grace. Now they were tiptoeing around each other. They hadn’t spoken more than ten words to each other all morning. All because of Elizabeth McCarthy. Something else Layla could blame on her mother.
Aunt Grace finally spoke when they pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. “Are you on giving me the silent treatment forever?” she asked from the passenger seat.
A jabbing pain struck behind Layla’s eyes. “Do we have to talk about this now?” she asked, staring out of the windshield.
“You can’t pretend your mother doesn’t exist,” Aunt Grace said.
“She pretended I didn’t exist my whole life.”
Aunt Grace shifted to make direct eye contact with Layla. “She’s here because she wants to make amends with my sister…and you.”
Layla glanced over. “I told you, I don’t want her near Gran.”
“It’s not your place to decide,” Grace said. “Besides, we can’t keep Elizabeth’s presence a secret forever. Others will see her and tell Barbara, and we won’t be able to put them off like we did with Larry Conklin.”
“Gran can’t take the stress right now. Do you want to be responsible if she has another attack?”
Aunt Grace made an exasperated sound. “No, but I don’t like hiding anything from Barbara.”
“Don’t worry,” Layla said. “Chances are she’ll get bored and disappear again. Then Gran will never have to know.”
Aunt Grace’s mouth turned down in a disapproving frown. “Elizabeth isn’t like that.”
The anger returned full force. “That’s the thing,” Layla said, her voice rising. “I don’t know anything about her, and that’s her fault. She chose to abandon me. She chose to disappear. If she’s sorry now, that’s too bad.”
Layla reached for the door handle, but Aunt Grace put a hand out. “We can’t wait too long. Your mother might not have much time.”
“What does that mean?”
She swallowed and looked at the dashboard. “Did you notice her hair or how abnormally thin she is?”
Of course Layla had noticed the signs of illness. She’d been trying not to think about them, though. Those signs made her stomach clench for another reason beyond fury. “Are you saying she’s dying? Is that why she’s here?”
“Would you care if she was?” Aunt Grace asked.
Layla winced at the harsh tone and the disappointment in her great-aunt’s voice. “I’m not a monster, you know. I don’t want her to suffer. I just can’t forgive her as easily as you have, and I can’t forget how much pain she’s caused. How much we’ve suffered because of her.”
Aunt Grace’s expression softened. “I know, dear, and I understand. But I’m telling you, we don’t have the right to keep Barbara and her daughter apart. You don’t know the full story of what went on back then. Yes, your grandmother has suffered, but mostly because of her own guilt. She needs forgiveness, too. That, more than anything, will heal her heart.”
Layla nodded. “Okay. We’ll tell Gran, but not until she’s stronger.”
“Everything is going to be fine, you know.” Aunt Grace smiled and brushed the back of her hand across Layla’s cheek. Then she grabbed a cloth grocery bag and opened her door. “Now, let’s go see your grandmother. I bet she’s driving the staff crazy already.”
Gran wasn’t driving anyone crazy yet. She was awake and sitting up, though. And she had a visitor. Grayson turned as Layla and Aunt Grace came into the room. He was holding Gran’s hand, and Layla noticed a touch of added color in her cheeks.
He smiled at them. “Good morning. I was just telling Dr. McCarthy that she puts my humble offering to shame,” he said, nodding his head toward the vase on the nightstand, which was overflowing with flowers.
Gran’s eyes sparkled even as she let out a gruff humph.
Layla stared at him for a moment, suddenly overcome by a full-blown case of…well…lust. But what else could a girl feel when faced with a gorgeous, sexy man who was able to make old ladies blush? And wasn’t that inappropriate when she was standing in her grandmother’s hospital room?
He stared right back, a grin stretching across his face, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Then he broke the contact.
“I should go,” he said.
“Oh, you don’t have to run off,” Aunt Grace protested.
He shook his head. “You three need some privacy. I’ll see you later.”
He walked out, and Layla couldn’t help but watch. Aunt Grace cleared her thr
oat, and Layla started. She turned back, fixing her expression into one of placid calm. Aunt Grace stared back, a knowing grin on her face.
Layla deliberately looked away. “Gran,” she said, moving toward the bed. “You do look wonderful.”
“I doubt it,” she said, her voice rasping like sandpaper against wood.
Aunt Grace bustled over, too, and kissed her sister’s cheek. “Would we lie?”
“If it suited you,” Gran said, her mouth quirking faintly.
Aunt Grace chuckled. “There you see? She’s making jokes already,” she told Layla, before turning back to her sister. “You’ll be back on your feet in no time. Until you are, I brought something for you.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a pile of magazines and books.
Layla saw they were all about home decorating. “What is all this?”
“Research,” Aunt Grace said. “Since Barbara is going to be laid up for some time, I thought we could look through them to get decorating ideas for The Paradise. There are books in here, too, with lovely pictures of historic theatres.”
“Grace, did you buy all this?” Gran asked, her eyes widening in horror.
“No. The books came from the library, and I asked our friends if they’d like to donate their old magazines. Everyone was most generous, don’t you think?”
“We might be seeing wallpaper in our sleep,” Layla said, thumbing through a decorating magazine. “I guess by the time you’re back on your feet we’ll have a good idea of what we want to do.”
“What are you talking about?” Gran asked.
“Your doctor said you have to take it easy for a while, and that means no Paradise,” Layla said. “We can’t risk your health.”
“There’s more than my health at risk,” Gran said. “You know our financial position. We can’t afford to stop. Just because I have to stay in bed doesn’t mean you have to put the world on hold. You should keep working.”
“Someone needs to be at home with you,” Layla pointed out.
“I can stay with her,” Grace said. “And Grayson will be at The Paradise to help. You have Noah and Chester, too.”
“But this is your project, Aunt Grace,” Layla said. “I don’t want to push you out.”
She waved at the pile of magazines. “I’ll be involved. Besides, Barbara has been looking out for me all my life. It’s time I return the favor.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, dear.”
Layla couldn’t find any more arguments, and truthfully she feared her grandmother might be right. An extended delay could be disastrous. Gran’s health scare proved how important it was for her and Aunt Grace to stay solvent.
“All right,” Layla said. “Operation: Rescue Paradise will continue as scheduled.”
When her grandmother began to tire, Layla and Aunt Grace went to find coffee. They also found Grayson sitting at one of the tables.
He stood when they approached. “I figured you’d make your way down here at some point.”
“Have you been waiting all this time?” Aunt Grace asked. “How sweet of you.” She elbowed Layla in the ribs. “Isn’t he sweet?”
Layla sent her great-aunt a warning glance, which the older woman ignored.
“Well, I should give you two a moment,” Aunt Grace said. “I’ll just take a short walk outside.”
Layla knew when she was being manipulated. “Aunt Grace, I thought you wanted coffee.”
She fluttered her hands. “Too much caffeine is bad for me. You sit here and talk. Besides, I have to make a phone call.”
Layla’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “To whom?”
“I don’t have to report my every move to you, Layla,” she said evenly.
Aunt Grace left before Layla could say anything else. She watched her great-aunt go, with a sense of resignation.
She sighed and turned back to Grayson. “You really didn’t have to stay.”
His head tilted to the side, and he regarded her with a touch of exasperation. “Maybe I stayed because I’m worried about you. And maybe I wanted to know more about your mother’s return.”
Layla eased into a chair across from him and rested her arms on the table. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Why shouldn’t you tell me things that upset you?”
“Because they’re not your problems,” she said, eyes fixed on her hands. She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. Memories of the other night – of breaking down in his arms – flooded back, and embarrassment swamped her. She barely knew him, and yet she was literally crying on his shoulder.
He reached across the table. “What if I want them to be?”
How long had it been since anyone, other than her relatives, had cared enough to take on her worries?
The story came rushing out before she could stop the words. “My grandmother had a heart attack after our neighbor told us he saw my mother sitting in a car outside the house,” she said. “He kept going on about how she didn’t look the same, and that he hadn’t recognized her until he saw me. We all thought he was crazy, but he was right. Elizabeth contacted Aunt Grace and fed her some line about wanting to make amends. So Aunt Grace arranged to have my mother come to the house after church. I guess she imagined there’d be a big, happy reunion.”
“Only your grandmother ended up in the hospital.”
Layla pictured her grandmother clutching her chest. Falling to the ground. The hours waiting for word on whether she was alive or dead. The metallic taste of fear that still coated her mouth even now.
“Yes,” Layla said. “Aunt Grace called my mother, and she came to the hospital. I found them outside in the courtyard. I didn’t even know who she was at first. She looks so different.”
“It’s been a long time,” Grayson said. “She’s older, and you don’t have any real memories of her.”
“No, it wasn’t just age.” Another image flashed through her mind. Of Elizabeth McCarthy’s sunken cheeks and the sunbonnet meant to hide her head. “I think she’s sick. Really sick.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “Do you think she’s come back because she’s dying?”
A fist lodged in her throat. “I don’t know. Aunt Grace hinted at it. I just know I can’t let that woman anywhere near my grandmother. I’m terrified of what could happen if they met. What if they start fighting and Gran has a relapse?”
“If your mother is dying, that would be a powerful motivation for wanting to make things right.”
She looked up and scowled. “So you think I should forgive her just like that?” she asked, a touch of accusation in her tone.
He sat back, arms in the air. “I’m not taking sides, okay? I’m just saying your mother might be sincere. Mine never had any such epiphany, but then she wasn’t a person with normal human emotions.”
“What if it was your mother?’ Layla asked, leaning forward. “What if she walked into this cafeteria right now and suddenly wanted a relationship?”
He tilted his head back and massaged the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I’d do.” Then he looked deep into her eyes. “I do know that my mother never came searching for me. She never wanted to repair our relationship. She never apologized or explained. Not even at the end. She didn’t care enough to do any of those things, but maybe yours does. And maybe it’s time you had the kind of answers that I never got.”
The drive home from the hospital was made in near silence, too. This time Layla was too caught up in her own head to make conversation. She couldn’t help but wonder what Elizabeth McCarthy wanted. Where had she been all these years, and why had she come back now? Was she really interested in making amends and being part of their lives? Then there was the one question Layla needed answered more than any other. The question that had shaped her entire life.
Why had Elizabeth McCarthy abandoned her and disappeared?
Exhaustion flooded every cell in her body, and by the time she made the turn onto her street, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and s
leep for days. Her plans were scuttled when she noticed an old, yellow Beetle in the driveway.
Probably someone with food. Shellwater Key always rallied together when one of its own got sick. The way the good citizens of her town showed solidarity for the afflicted was by feeding them. There had been more than a dozen casserole dishes dropped off since Gran’s heart attack. Layla hadn’t realized there were so many different ways to combine chicken and rice. She’d probably run screaming from the room if she had to eat chicken and rice again after this.
She sighed. “Looks like another donation to our refrigerator.”
“Mm hmm,” Aunt Grace mumbled and jumped out of the car. “We don’t want to make anyone wait.”
Layla didn’t see anyone in the car and there wasn’t a casserole on the front step. “Did they take a walk around the block?”
Aunt Grace looked over her shoulder. “We have a visitor,” she said as she unlocked the door.
Layla’s shoulders tensed as she braced for Aunt Grace’s latest move. “What’s going on?” she asked, with almost weary resignation. Whatever it was, Layla had a feeling she wasn’t going to like it.
“I told you, we have a visitor. She’s waiting on the patio.”
Aunt Grace bustled down the hall. She had a habit of retreating before anyone could argue with her these days. Layla’s suspicions deepened and now she knew she wasn’t going to like whatever was waiting.
The certainty hardened when Layla stepped out onto the patio and saw Elizabeth McCarthy sitting on the glider. She wore black jeans and a purple, button-down shirt, which somehow complemented the enormous pink and yellow tulips that decorated the glider’s cushions. The oversized sunbonnet was gone, and her head was uncovered, revealing a dusting of tight, black curls.
For a moment the sight of Elizabeth’s scalp beneath the short growth transfixed Layla. Then she turned back to her great-aunt, her jaw clenching. “What’s she doing here?”
Grace crossed her arms. “She is your mother, and she’s here because I asked her to come so you two could talk.”
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