“Thanks for helping us out like this. And again, don’t panic about finding a new place. Take your time.”
A car pulled up at the curb behind Simon’s van. It was Keva dropping off the sandals.
“Hey there,” the cheery woman called out, dangling the strappy leather sandals from one hand. “I’m heading over to the pub tonight. Want to join me?”
Marley stepped off the porch to see Simon and Merlin off, but she motioned Keva to come in. “Want some iced tea?”
“No, I really have to run. I’ve got a million things to do before heading out tonight. I could meet you at The Shipwreck, though, say around eight-thirty. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Marley mumbled, beginning to lose her nerve about going anywhere. She took the sandals from Keva but didn’t mention her change of heart. “Thanks again for the shoes. They’re perfect.”
“No problem. I look forward to seeing the whole ensemble later.”
Marley waved her off but sunk down on the porch steps to watch her drive away.
Alone.
Again.
And wishing she could feel like her old self.
Eight
After tossing together a pasta dish for dinner, Marley pushed the food around her plate. Sampling a few bites, she realized she could barely taste the sauce.
She missed Merlin.
She put away the leftovers and cleaned up the dishes. It was only because she’d agreed to meet Keva at the bar that she changed out of her jeans and into the new dress. It hurt like hell to stretch far enough around back to get it zipped. But the effort paid off. Looking back at her reflection in the mirror, the dress really rocked.
She didn’t bother painting her toenails but slipped the taupe sandals on her feet anyway. It felt weird wearing someone else’s heels. For that reason, she changed out of them and into a pair of white canvas sneakers. If Keva said anything, she’d simply confess to not being able to comfortably walk in the five-inch pumps for what amounted to four blocks.
After fussing over her hair and putting on makeup, she grabbed her purse and a sweater. Gearing herself up to have fun, she was ready to venture out into the night,
And what an evening it was. Spring wasn’t like this back in Wisconsin. A light breeze fanned the blooming jasmine, layering the air with a host of fragrant scents. She passed lawns with blooming roses, trellises draped in honeysuckle, and delicate sweet alyssum cascading from window boxes and hanging baskets.
A sense of longing hit her. She wanted to belong here more than anything.
When she finally reached Ocean Street, though, she hesitated at the corner. She couldn’t make her feet move toward the pub. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t go inside to be around people. There would be questions, there were always questions, and she’d be forced to think up witty answers. Clever comebacks had never been her forte. Dread and panic warred inside her. She felt her heart race, the anxiety build. Apprehension won. Instead of a crowded bar, she opted to head out over the pier to watch the sun go down by herself.
The stars hadn’t fully popped out yet when Gideon spotted Marley sitting alone on the bench looking out to sea. He went over and dropped down next to her. “You look nice. Headed out somewhere?”
She glanced over at the hunky doctor now sporting a casual Friday look. It didn’t escape her notice that his toned upper body filled out the dark blue hoodie he had on. His snug pair of jeans showed off his ass. The wind had ruffled his hair and left it a messy tangle of brown curls.
She wondered if he even knew he oozed sexuality.
Which explained the pull of arousal in her belly. She stopped staring and finally found her voice. “I intended to go to the pub. But I chickened out at the last minute. I’ve decided I’m fine right here.”
“Nothing wrong with this spot. You can take in both sides of the bay from here, watch the boats come and go.” An idea formed. “Have you eaten?”
She thought of the pasta she’d barely touched. Her stomach growled. “Why?”
“What if I went to the pub and ordered us some burgers? Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”
She grinned and leaned toward him. “FYI, there aren’t that many vegetarians in Wisconsin.”
“Perfect. We could eat right here. Watch the sun go down behind that bank of clouds.”
“Sure, I like that idea.” She reached into her bag. “Here, let me give you some money for mine.”
“Nah, it’s on me. I’ll be right back. Sit tight, dinner in ten minutes or less.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Inside the bar, Gideon asked Geniece Darrow for two burgers with fries and two soft drinks.
“Two?” Geniece questioned, curiosity forming in her eyes as she jotted down the order on her pad. “Hmm. You gotta hot date tonight, Doc?”
“Maybe,” Gideon replied, glancing around the crowded bar.
“You haven’t ordered two of anything since New Year’s Eve.”
“And you do have an exceptional memory, Geniece.” Too good, Gideon mused. “Want me to lie and say it’s for a patient?”
“Nope. None of my business. I’ve learned that much from waitressing in an itty-bitty town. Besides, I start getting too nosy, and my tips go down.”
“There you go,” Gideon said, handing her a ten-dollar bill. “In advance for putting the order in ahead of the others.”
“Already done, Doc,” she said with a sly wink, sauntering off to the kitchen.
“You look like you’re off duty and could use this,” Durke noted, sliding a beer in front of the doctor while waiting for the food. “On the house.”
“Long day,” Gideon offered the owner, “Up at dawn. Surgery at seven. A string of patients in the ER.”
“Heard about Tahoe. Man, if I ever need to go under the knife, I want you cutting me open. You did for Tahoe what some other doc did for Mick Jagger. Didn’t he need a valve repaired, too?”
“I’m not sure,” Gideon returned, taking a sip of his red ale. “I’m not up on my rock stars. But you’re definitely packed tonight.”
Durke leaned over the bar. “I have to admit, Malachi does bring them in the door, better than Blue Skies even. And once the music starts, we get swamped. Best to order now else the kitchen will get slammed, too. You need anything else, Doc?”
“Nope. I’m good. Thanks, Durke.”
Durke eyed the customers lining up at the other end of the bar. “No problem. I got orders to fill, Doc. See ya later. You enjoy that burger.”
Geniece brought his order out, bagged and ready to go. “Since we started offering burgers to the menu, Decker can’t keep up.”
“The sous chef from Manhattan?” Gideon ventured.
“Yep. Decker even says he loves it here. Imagine loving Pelican Pointe better than New York City.” Geniece pushed the bag toward Gideon. “Whoever she is, here’s wishing you good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll probably need it.”
“A man looks like you? She must be crazy not to jump those bones right up front,” Geniece said with a wink.
“If only you were a few years older,” Gideon teased.
“What’s age got to do with dating anyway?” Geniece fired back. “I turned twenty-two last year.”
“Good for you. But you’re still too young for this old guy,” he explained as he grabbed the order and headed for the door. He walked out into the crisp air. The sun was a few minutes from disappearing. As he veered toward the pier, he heard the waves.
He was a little surprised to see Marley still sitting in the same spot. She hadn’t taken off like a spooked rabbit. “I’ve got greasy burgers here made by a fancy chef who gave up his life in the big city for small-town living.”
“Aren’t we lucky to be the benefactors of his culinary magic?” Marley noted.
He sat down next to her and dug in the sack. After handing off a wrapped burger, he added, “We could always eat these at my house and then afterward, take a nice stroll around the perimete
r.”
“That sounds…fine. I would like to see inside your house anyway. I’m intrigued by the idea of living in a former pub.”
“Then let’s hurry before the food gets cold.”
They dashed across the street. Gideon hadn’t even bothered to lock his door. He led the way into a large eating area. “I’ll give you a tour of the place after we eat. I ordered soft drinks, but maybe you’d prefer wine.”
Marley removed her sweater and took a seat at the table. “I’ll drink the pop for now and save the wine for later. No point in wasting good pop.” She shoved her straw down into the lid and sampled the liquid, wrinkling up her nose at the taste. “A little watery.”
“I’ll mention that to Durke next time,” Gideon promised.
“The juicy burger makes up for the watery pop.”
He got himself a beer from the fridge and removed a half bottle of chardonnay he’d opened earlier in the week.
Marley eyed the wine. “Do you drink alcohol when you’re off duty? I mean, what if there’s an accident and you’re called in at the hospital? Hint, hint. Like happened to me.”
“I don’t drink all that much. But I do allow myself an occasional glass of vino or this.” He held up the bottle of beer. “I found this handcrafted ale at Murphy’s. It hits the spot on a night like tonight. It’s brewed just down the road, too. Want a taste? It’s pretty good.”
“Sure.” She guzzled a sample from the bottle. “Wow. That is good. There’s so much about this area I don’t know, so much I have yet to explore.”
“We’ll have to fix that,” Gideon said, digging into his burger. “There’s lots to do here, a list of outdoor activities as long as your arm to keep you busy year-round.”
“Wally Pierce said he’d teach me to surf when I get the stitches out of my head and my ribs heal.”
“Really? Wally’s a good choice for a teacher. He grew up here, knows the water, the tides, the waves, like the back of his hand. You couldn’t ask for a better surfer.”
Eyeing his beer, she pushed the soft drink aside. “Could I switch out my pop for one of those brewskis?”
“Sure.” Gideon retrieved another beer out of the fridge and twisted off the top.
“I don’t wanna get schnockered or anything, but this beer almost reminds me of home.”
“By schnockered do you mean drunk?”
“Yeah. Schnockered, passed out, plowed. I wouldn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Is schnockered a Wisconsin thing? Like calling a soft drink pop?”
Picking up a fry, she tilted her head to study him. “Yeah, I guess it is. What do you call a soft drink in Chicago?”
“I actually grew up not far from St. Louis in a small town called Madison just across the Illinois border. Spent six years of my childhood there. We had this drug store downtown where we used to hang out, a throwback from the 1940s. This place served what the owner called an ice-cold fizzy. And in the heat of summer when the temps were hovering near a hundred degrees outside with no air conditioning in most of our homes, we guzzled down quite a few of those. That’s actually what I called soft drinks until I moved to Chicago. A fizzy.”
The grin on her face spread slow and uneven. “So basically, people think you’re from the big city. But you’re just like me. You grew up in a small-town atmosphere. That’s why you weren’t afraid to move here. You already knew what it would be like.”
“I had an idea. And Quentin had inundated me with emails about all the perks of living here, sweetening the pot as best he could. But every town is different. And so far, Pelican Pointe hasn’t disappointed me yet.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I promise I won’t make fun of you for calling pop a fizzy.”
Again, he lifted a shoulder. “Too late. I already got made fun of plenty of times as a kid for other reasons. Had you ever been out of Wisconsin before this trip or was this your first time away from the land of cheese?”
“Not the first time, no. Trips to Chicago were frequent. But in my senior trip in high school there, I got lost on a tour of the botanical gardens.”
Gideon laughed and took a sip of his beer. “How could you possibly get lost under a glass dome?”
“Hey, I got caught up taking pictures and didn’t realize the tour had gone another way. It happens.”
“My first time driving in Chicago I missed my exit on the Loop, ended up on Lakeshore Drive with no way to turn around and completely confused about how to get to where I was going.”
“See?”
“But I was in a car, not on some tour inside a glass dome. Where’d you go to school?”
“University of Wisconsin, Madison. Nine years. Undergraduate degree in psychology, Master’s in clinical psychology, eventually earning my Ph.D. at twenty-seven.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. Haven’t you heard? It’s all a bunch of bull. But getting back to your original question about leaving the state, I just never went anywhere exciting, well except for Milwaukee. When I did decide to leave, I headed straight to Minneapolis to spend the night in the best hotel I could afford, a gift to myself for finally being able to move on. But every state I went to after that, someone always asked me about my accent. They always guessed I was from Wisconsin. I don’t have an accent, do I?”
Before he could answer, he choked on his bite of burger and had to chug the beer down to clear his windpipe. “Well, yeah, you sorta do. But it’s more endearing than annoying. And it makes you seem so down to earth.”
“Down to earth? Is that a phrase that usually translates to corny?”
“Absolutely not. Besides, corny reminds me of my own roots.”
“Nice save.”
Marley ate half the burger and closed the lid on the Styrofoam box. She leaned back in the chair and patted her stomach. “I can’t eat anymore. I have to confess I actually fixed pasta for dinner tonight. But I didn’t eat much of it.”
“Let me guess you were nervous and started to have second thoughts about going out?”
She frowned and got up to discard her trash. Was she that transparent? “Maybe. But I think it was because I spent the day dog-sitting Gilly and Simon’s—this humongous thing they call a dog—and I loved having him around. I missed him after Simon picked him up. His name’s Merlin. Plus, I found out they sold the house, and I’ll have to find somewhere else to stay. I was more than a little bummed after that.”
“I didn’t realize…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll look around town and see what else I can find temporarily that I can afford. Thanks for feeding me. It was nice to have someone to talk to over a meal.” She watched him finish off his burger and fries. “You gonna show me around or what?”
He stood up, tossed his trash in the garbage. “I’m not sure where to start. I could take you down into the basement and show you where they used to hide the bootleg liquor. But I don’t want to freak you out.”
“And here I thought there were no surprises in store for me tonight. Lead on. I’ll decide if it’s freaking me out.”
He took out a flashlight from the kitchen drawer. “I didn’t believe it either. But there’s a hidden panel in what used to be the pantry,” he explained as he turned the corner of the kitchen and opened the door to a smaller room. He pushed on a section of the wall and stood back to watch Marley’s eyes when it gave way to the secret passageway.
“I won’t lie, that is freaking me out a little bit.”
“You don’t have to go down there. Once I found it, I took pictures.” He handed off his phone, so she could see for herself.
Marley swiped her way through all the photos. “It’s definitely cool artifacts from that period. But I think I’ll pass on seeing them for myself. How did you find all this anyway? Were you just tapping on the walls one night and this door popped open?”
“Good question. A…uh…friend…showed me it was here.”
“Do I get to see the rest of the house?”
“Sure.” He took her hand and led her to the back staircase off the kitchen, a narrow set of steep steps that led to a spacious landing.
“This is so cool. It reminds me of the house where I grew up. My brother and I used to scramble down the stairs on cold mornings after a snowfall and into the kitchen, eat breakfast, then huddle around the radio hoping the weather was bad enough to close the school. Do you have siblings?”
“No. It was just my aunt and me. My mom died when I was four, and I went to live with her older sister.”
Marley stopped at the landing and looked into his eyes. “How?”
“My mom? She died in childbirth on the Klamath Reservation. No doctors around for miles. No one that much cared, either.”
“And the baby?”
“He didn’t make it.”
“Your father?”
Gideon shook his head. “I don’t remember much about my dad. Although my aunt used to mention that he didn’t handle my mom’s death very well, totally lost it. Last I heard, he took off for Alaska. That was a very long time ago. No idea what happened to him after that.”
“I’m sorry,” Marley whispered. “That’s an awful thing to do to a four-year-old, shipping them off, halfway across the country to live somewhere else.”
“Well, in my case, it worked out. My aunt became my mother. I’ve always called her Lolly, even though her actual name is Lorelei, Lorelei Acoma. She adopted me when I was six, made it official, with my father’s approval. And I’m trying to talk her into moving here.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. The name’s cute, too. Lolly.”
He showed her the bedrooms down the hall first and then finished with the master, she stepped into the middle of the room and twirled around.
The bed was big, a comfortable-looking king in distressed wood and rustic tones. Plush bedding in baby blue and dark navy reminded her this was a man’s domain. Nothing frilly or lacy here. “Did you decorate this yourself?”
“Not here. This is pretty much the same stuff I had in Chicago.”
“You’re very neat and tidy.”
“Yeah. Habit. Always needed everything in its proper place.”
The Coast Road Home (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 13) Page 10