“Time.”
A furrow appeared between Grace’s eyes as she frowned.
“I can’t help feeling that time is running out,” Barbara said, trying to explain the heavy sense of dread that had dogged every conscious thought since she’d awakened in the hospital. “This heart attack—”
“Barbara McCarthy, you aren’t going anywhere,” Grace said sharply. “You’re going to live to a ripe old age.”
“I’m already old.”
“You are not allowed to die yet,” Grace said, her puzzled frown turning into a glare. “I forbid it.”
Barbara rolled her eyes. “Like you have that kind of power.”
Grace took a deep breath, as concern replaced frustration. “What’s got you in such a state? Is it just the heart attack?”
“Like I said, it’s time. As if it’s running out. I don’t want to go before I have a chance to fix things. Layla is still hurting over her business, and now she has the added burden of worrying about my health and our finances. Wondering if we’re going to lose it all because of your mad scheme to buy The Paradise.”
“The way I see it, The Paradise is bringing us all together again,” Grace said. “And it’s brought Grayson into Layla’s life. You may have missed the way they were looking at each other in the hospital, but I didn’t.”
Barbara had seen it. Even weak as a day-old kitten she’d noticed the sparks. She didn’t know how close her granddaughter had gotten to the enigmatic director, but Barbara couldn’t deny something was building between those two.
“No, I didn’t miss it, but just because they make eyes at each other doesn’t mean they’re destined for a lifelong romance.”
“It’s a start,” Grace said, with a subtle pout. “Honestly, you’re determined to be negative. Maybe this could be the best thing that ever happened to Layla.”
“Or the worst.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder you ever got married.”
“Marriage was expected.”
A bark of laughter escaped. “Since when did you ever do what was expected?”
Barbara looked down at her hands. “Richard expected me to marry him, and I didn’t expect I would have any other offers.”
“Barbara, what a thing to say!”
“It’s the truth.”
“Why would you think that?” Grace asked, her tone gentler.
“Richard was the first man who ever wanted to marry me. I was already twenty-six, and no one had ever desired me.”
Grace smoothed a hand across her sister’s hand. “Instead they admired you.”
Barbara nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. An eighty-plus-year-old woman shouldn’t care about something as silly as boys who couldn’t get past a smart girl. “Or they resented me. I didn’t think that was ever likely to change, and I wanted a family. Richard was there, and he was willing to accept me for who I was.”
“Did you love him?”
“I did eventually.”
“And did he love you?” Grace asked, whisper soft.
“He was proud of me.”
“Pride isn’t the same thing as love.”
Certainly not in the dark of night, when your husband turned away from you in bed, Barbara thought. When he took satisfaction in the praise his wife garnered, not because he was proud of her, but because marrying a legend made him feel so much more important.
“There were other women,” Barbara said, squeezing her eyes shut so she couldn’t see Grace’s pity. But she couldn’t block out the memories of strange perfume on Richard’s clothes. Or a stray earring in his car that hadn’t belonged to her. Even all these years later, the knowledge that her husband had strayed still stung.
“Oh darling…” A soft hand brushed her cheek again, and Grace rained kisses atop Barbara’s head. “Men can be so stupid. How could he not have treasured you?”
“Because men treasure softness, and I was never soft. They wanted a woman like you.”
Grace laid her head on Barbara’s shoulder. “All my life I wanted to be admired and taken seriously.”
“Aren’t we a sorry pair?”
Grace sat up, spine stiffened. “No, we’re not. So what if life didn’t turn out exactly as we’d hoped? Your marriage wasn’t completely a disaster. At least you had a beautiful daughter.”
“Aren’t you forgetting how that turned out? Being stuck in bed has given me time to contemplate how horrendously I behaved.”
“When are you going to forgive yourself for being human?” Grace asked. “For not always knowing how to handle everything?”
“When my daughter comes home and I can beg her forgiveness,” she said, anger gushing forth like Old Faithful.
Grace drew back and looked out the window.
Barbara rubbed a hand across her face. “I’m sorry, Grace. I shouldn’t snap at you. Like I said, this heart attack has brought home the fact that I will not be on this earth much longer. I’ve done nothing but think about what I would give to see Elizabeth again, and my heart aches with it.
Grace squeezed Barbara’s thin shoulders. “Hush or you’ll work yourself up into another attack.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do. Don’t forget that Elizabeth lived with me while she was pregnant. I saw how much she was suffering, too. That poor child’s heart was broken.”
“Because I broke it.”
“Let’s say you broke each other’s hearts,” Grace said. “But maybe there’s a way all of us can finally heal.”
“How can I heal when I have no idea where Elizabeth is? She could be dead, and I wouldn’t know it. There is a hole in my heart, and I don’t know if it can ever be filled.”
Grace stared at the bedspread. “I know how to fill it.”
Barbara stopped and stared at her sister. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…I can help you,” she said, lifting her head again.
“How?”
“By breaking a promise.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gran was home and getting stronger, Aunt Grace was busy playing Florence Nightingale, and Layla was busy trying to deal with her mother. She’d managed to spend a whole afternoon in the car with Beth yesterday and survived the experience. Layla thought a medal was in order for that feat alone.
The next morning Layla went into town to run errands so she didn’t arrive at The Paradise until after eleven. A small part of her acknowledged that she’d invented a few extra errands in order to delay seeing Beth again.
When she pulled into the parking lot, Layla sat for a moment staring at the old building. The outside was still peeling. Weeds were still winning the war against the asphalt. The sign still listed to the side, and the parking lot remained riddled with potholes. But The Paradise was beautiful and solid and gave Layla another reason to get up in the morning.
She recalled her mother’s assertion that the theatre was becoming more important. That overseeing the renovations made Layla “glow”.
Which was the most ridiculous thing Layla had ever heard. The Paradise was nothing but a temporary port in the storm. A pit stop until she could get back to her real life.
With grim determination, she got out of the car. She paused inside the lobby, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness.
“Hey, Boss.”
Layla let out a shriek and whirled around as Noah emerged from the shadows. “Don’t ever do that again,” she said, hissing out a long, slow breath.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, with a slow grin.
“Where did you come from?”
He crooked a finger and gestured for her to follow him into the bathroom. A bathroom that now had a complete set of stall doors. She couldn’t contain a grin as she took in the results of their handiwork in the light of day.
“Amazing how something as simple as doors can make a place seem habitable again,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, with a matching smile. “We did a good job.”
“You did a good job. I sanded one whole corner.”
He grinned. “It’s a great corner, though.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks. So, how are things around here? Nothing’s caught fire? No more rodents taking up residence in the closets? No floods in the kitchen?”
“No, but there’s a new assistant skulking around the back hallways who looks suspiciously like you, minus a full head of hair and about twenty-five pounds,” he said, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms like a father waiting to see which child would admit to breaking the lamp. “Calls herself Bess Parker.”
“Yeah, that’s her name,” Layla said, looking anywhere but in his eyes. “Aunt Grace suggested I hire her.”
“So, we’re not acknowledging who she is?” he asked.
“Well, we’re not mentioning it to my grandmother.”
He chuckled and his head dropped to his chest. “Your aunt is diabolical.”
“I’m coming to realize that.”
He levered away from the wall and stepped closer, searching her face. “How’s that sleeping problem? Is it any easier now that you’re working with your “assistant”?
She muttered a curse under her breath.
“What was that?” he asked, leaning closer.
She lifted her chin. “I’m working on it, okay?” she said, exasperation coloring her voice. “Give me a break. I know you think I need to forgive her. I’m sure you’re right that it’s for my own good, but it’s not so easy.”
“It never is.”
She burst out in sudden laughter. “You’re like my own personal Jiminy Cricket.”
“When you wish upon a star,” he said, tilting an imaginary top hat.
“Well, my dream is to see The Paradise restored and full of people again,” she said. “My family needs this place to be a success. Maybe as much as we need cleansing from all the garbage in our lives.”
“We’ll get it done,” he said. “In fact your new assistant had a suggestion for the walls. She went out and bought some paint and—”
“You let her loose in my theatre?” Layla pushed past him and hurried into the dining room to find Beth hunkered down in a corner near the bar.
Every protective instinct rose up as she converged on Beth, but Noah grabbed her arm. “Don’t fire until you find out what she’s doing.”
“What?” Layla said in a near hiss, shaking off his touch.
“You look ready to blast her away.” He cocked his head toward Beth. “She’s only trying to help.”
“Fine.” Layla forced herself to take a deep, calming breath and slowed her steps as she approached.
Beth must have sensed the change in the atmosphere because she glanced over her shoulder. She bolted to her feet like she’d gotten a shock from a cattle prod.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “I had an inspiration about the walls so I wanted to try it out. It’s only this one corner so if you don’t like it I can paint right over it.”
“What did you do?” The question came out as an accusation.
The air stirred behind her as Noah leaned in. “At ease, soldier.”
Layla bared her teeth. “What’s your suggestion?”
Beth flicked an uncertain glance from Noah to Layla. “I was going to tell you about it, but then I thought it would be better to show you. And like I said, I can paint over it and—”
“Just show me,” Layla said.
Noah’s grumbling cough sounded by her ear.
“Please,” Layla said, with another teeth-baring smile.
This time a mischievous glint flared in Beth’s eyes as she looked between the two of them. Then she turned back to the wall. “I thought about this decorating technique I learned. You sponge on a slightly darker color in a pattern. It gives the wall an antique look. Like a Tuscan villa.”
Layla looked at the small patch Beth had started. The strokes did indeed create an old-world ambience.
Reluctant admiration rose up in her. “It’s nice,” she admitted, in spite of herself.
Beth’s eyes widened, and a flush of pleasure rose up in her cheeks. “Really? You like it?”
Her expression seemed so hopeful. That look, combined with Beth’s waifish appearance, made it impossible for Layla to remain unmoved.
“It’s perfect,” Layla said. “Could you show me how to do that?”
“Absolutely,” Beth said in a rush, as if she wanted to make sure Layla didn’t change her mind. “We can get started right now if you want.”
To refuse would be like kicking a puppy. “Sure. No time like the present.”
Noah cleared his throat again, and Layla whirled around to face him. “Aren’t I being nice enough, Jiminy?” she said, keeping her voice low enough so Beth wouldn’t hear.
He grinned and then winked at Beth. “I’ll leave you two ladies to your painting. I have work waiting for me in the shop. Call if you need any help.”
“What an interesting man,” Beth said, watching him go.
Layla let out a soft rumble. “He is that.”
“Are you involved with him?” Beth asked. “Romantically I mean?”
Layla’s eyes widened. “No.”
“Are you sure? He’s certainly handsome, not to mention a good man. You don’t come across too many like that these days.”
“We’re just friends,” Layla said. Then a horrifying thought occurred to her. “Are you interested in him?” Was Beth a cougar and into younger men now?
Beth burst into laughter.
“What?” Layla asked on a terse note.
“If you could see your face,” Beth said as more laughter immerged. “Would it be so awful if I became involved with a good-looking, caring man?”
“No, but he’s…he’s my age.”
“Hmm, there is that. I bet he has—” Her voice trailed off, grew huskier. “Stamina.”
Layla clapped her hands over her ears. “Eww!”
“I remember now that the quiet ones always surprised you with their finesse.”
Layla squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop that.”
“Sorry.” Beth pulled Layla’s hand down. “You’re so easy to tease.”
“Can we just paint now?” Layla asked, eager to switch topics to anything other than her mother’s love life.
“Absolutely.”
So saying, Beth picked up a sponge and showed Layla how to create the Tuscan effect. Layla picked it up pretty quickly, and soon they were lost in the work.
“How did you learn to do this?” Layla asked when the silence had stretched too long.
“I’ve been working as a decorator’s assistant for five years.”
“A decorator?” Layla asked in surprise. The vagabond party girl was an interior decorator?
“Only an assistant, but I’ve picked up most of the techniques.”
“How did you get into that business?”
“I got a job as a host at one of those model homes they set up to sell new developments. The woman who came to do the decorating was a talkative sort. I was fascinated by everything she did, so I didn’t mind. By the time the decorator was finished with the job we’d become friends, and she offered me a job.”
“You enjoy it?”
“I love it. I’d always been interested in decorating. Even when I lived in rat hole dumps, I tried to fix them up. Plus, it was my first real adult-type job.”
“Outside of bars and sleazy nightclubs, you mean?”
Beth took in a quick breath and looked down. Concentrated on her section of the wall. “I keep forgetting about your low opinion of me.”
Layla cursed her viper-like tongue and then cursed at herself for feeling bad. What did Beth expect anyway? And why should Layla feel guilty? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
Layla sighed. “I’m sorry. I am trying.”
One corner of Beth’s mouth turned up in a semblance of a smile. “I know. I can’t really blame you. I probably deserve every unkind word. It’s not the fi
rst time I’ve heard comments like that. I grew up hearing them from the good folks of Shellwater Key.”
Now Layla felt like even more of a monster. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
A resolute glint entered Beth’s eyes, and she stepped closer. “Honey, I spent way too much time letting other peoples’ opinions drive my actions, and it nearly destroyed me. I try not to let them affect me anymore. Even when they come from you.”
Beth returned to her work.
Layla stared at the bowed head. “Who else in Shellwater Key judged you?”
Beth released a watery chuckle. “The better question is…who didn’t judge me? My mother’s so-called friends were some of the worst. I ran into a couple of them when I first returned. Well, I hid from them in the grocery store. The minute I saw them, I remembered overhearing them talking about me. Talking about how I always chased after the boys and how I was nothing but trouble. Mostly, I remember them saying how sorry they felt for my mother. I was barely thirteen at the time, but they’d already labeled me a Lolita.”
“Who said those things?”
Beth hesitated and then shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter.”
How could it not matter? Gossipy old biddies destroying a fragile young girl?
Layla would have probed more, but a commotion rose up from the lobby. Startled by the raucous noise, Layla and Beth hurried to investigate. Layla stopped when she saw Grayson and Annaliese walking in together. All thoughts of Beth’s troubled past disappeared. Annaliese and Grayson were laughing like they’d just returned from a jaunt in the countryside. Annaliese had her arm linked through Grayson’s, and her head was tilted up to him as she giggled at what was undoubtedly the funniest joke ever.
The both froze when they saw Layla and Beth.
Annaliese made a show of peeling herself from Grayson’s side and stepped a few feet away. “Hello Layla,” she said, flashing a wide smile.
“Hi,” Layla returned. “Still visiting, I see.
The smile grew even wider if that was possible. “I am.”
Layla turned toward Grayson.
Left Turn at Paradise Page 15