Castaway Cove (20 page)

“Sedona called,
” Kim told Annie as soon as she returned to the store. “She said to call her back when you got a chance.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She was grateful the other woman hadn’t mentioned that she’d been gone an hour past that negotiated forty-five minutes.

Fortunately, business was brisk, which kept her from being able to think about Mac until closing. After saying good night to Kim and turning the
OPEN
sign to
CLOSED
,
she picked up the phone.

“I know we both had a big lunch, but what would you say to stopping by the Sea Mist for a drink on the patio before going home?”

“You’re on,” Sedona said. “After my lunch, I’m in serious need of alcohol.” She paused. “And you need to talk.”

“I think I’m in trouble.”

“I’ll call Maddy and Charity,” Sedona said. “Unfortunately, I don’t know if Kara could get a sitter at the last minute.”

Although Annie liked Kara Douchett, that was just as well. As confused as she was, she wasn’t sure she could take looking at the baby photos the proud new mother would be bound to show off.

“It’d take time to fill her in,” she said. “But since Maddy was there, too, it’d be good to get another opinion.”

“She’ll come,” Sedona said without hesitation. “See you there in fifteen minutes.”

And wasn’t that the kind of friendship she’d moved to Shelter Bay for? Annie asked herself as she drove the two blocks down to the harborfront restaurant, where Sedona, organized as always, had already reserved them a table on the water.

Sedona arrived right on the dot, Maddy and Charity Tiernan two minutes later.

“I hope I didn’t take you away from preparing for your dinner service,” Annie said to Maddy.

“Not at all. Although Kyle isn’t as good a sous chef as Phoebe, she’ll keep things running smoothly while I’m gone. It’s also a good test, because I don’t want to be working all the time, which is partly why I decided to stay here in Shelter Bay after things fell apart in New York.

“I’m thinking of moving Phoebe into a general manager position once she’s back full-time, which would allow Kyle to move into her slot.”

Kyle was another successful graduate of Haven House, having landed in town from Massachusetts, the same way Phoebe had, through an underground railroad of women who, in many cases, were willing to risk breaking the law to save women from abuse.

Having lived in abusive situations herself as a child, Annie also volunteered at the shelter, helping its residents create scrapbooks depicting their progress from victims to self-sufficient, confident women. Those same women paid it forward by creating greeting cards for various volunteer organizations like Operation Write Home, Cards for Soldiers, and Cards for Hospitalized Kids.

“If I had someone like your Lucas at home, I sure wouldn’t want to be at work all the time,” Annie said.

They chatted a bit about the upcoming Fourth of July festivities, including Charity’s plan to bring some adoptable cats and dogs from her shelter to her festival booth, and then, once their glasses of wine and appetizer had been delivered, Maddy, the most outspoken of the three, said, “Well?”

“I kissed him.”

“We already know about that,” Sedona said, waving away the admission as she plucked a clam strip from the tower in the center of the table. “It’s all over town that you were making out with him behind a paper display.”

“It was a pen display. And we weren’t making out. He merely kissed me. On a crazy dare.”

“You dared him to kiss you?” Charity asked, looking pleased at that idea.

“What can I say? He makes me crazy,” Annie muttered.

“Well, whatever. It’s old news,” Maddy said. “We’re here for the juicy parts.”

Annie leaned forward, lowering her voice in an attempt to keep any more of her personal life from becoming grist for the Shelter Bay gossip mill. “We went to the beach. To this private spot he knows.”

The other women burst out laughing, drawing some attention from the surrounding tables.

“You’ve been there,” Annie guessed.

“One of the advantages of being connected to the Douchetts,” Maddy said. “The summer after I graduated from high school, Lucas and I went there a lot.”

“And Gabe took me there for the Crab Shack’s butter-roasted Dungeness crab picnic package,” Charity said. “As good as it was, halfway through the meal, I just wanted to pour that melted butter all over him and lick it off.”

“I know the feeling,” Annie said. “But in my case, it was crème fraiche.”

“That works, too,” Maddy agreed. Her reminiscent smile was that of a cat who’d just finished a bowl of very rich cream.

“I don’t miss the roller-coaster emotions that come with a relationship, but I do miss sex,” Sedona said on a sigh.

“Me, too,” Annie admitted. “I hadn’t realized how much until Mac kissed me. I think if he’d decided to make a move, right then and there, I wouldn’t have been able to think of a single reason why not.”

“I
still
can’t think of a reason,” Sedona said.

“Maybe if it were just the two of us. But there’s his daughter to think about,” Annie said.

“Well, surely you’re not going to be going at it like sex-crazed monkeys on the couch while she’s watching
Dora the Explorer
,” Maddy said.

“Of course not.”

“It’s not as easy having sex with kids around,” Charity admitted. “But Gabe and I have three, and trust me, we certainly manage it.”

“Which is obvious. After all this time together, you two still have that newlywed glow,” Maddy said.

“So do you and Lucas,” Charity said.

The chef dimpled at that. “Well, we had a lot of years of catching up to do.”

“How’s that going?” Sedona asked.

The smile widened. “We’re still working on it.”

“You two are just making this worse,” Annie complained. “I’m trying to convince myself that sex is overrated.”

“Good luck with that,” Sedona said dryly as Annie took a long gulp of the crisp, dry Chardonnay. “I thought we’d agreed that we were going to jump back into the dating pond.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Annie threw Sedona’s own words back at her.

Sedona shrugged. “Not all that well, since instead of a prince, I definitely ended up with a frog today. But at least I hold out hope. If you decide you don’t want Midnight Mac, I might give the guy a shot.”

“That’s the trouble.” Annie sighed heavily and although she wasn’t really hungry, she was in need of something fried, and began chewing on a breaded clam strip. “I do want him.”

“Then go for it,” Maddy advised. “You know what they say . . . you snooze, you lose.”

“Ha.” Annie took another clam strip from the stack and dipped it into the accompanying tartar sauce. “You’re a fine one to be talking about making the moves. I’ve heard all about how Lucas got you to marry him. You weren’t exactly the one pushing for the relationship.”

“There’s a good reason for that,” Maddy argued. “Not only was I just coming off a public breakup, but Lucas and I had a history.”

“And a really big misunderstanding that the guy had to explain,” Charity said.

“Exactly.” Maddy pointed a clam strip toward Annie. “While you and Mac are starting out with a clean slate. You can make your relationship whatever you want it to be.”

“I don’t want a relationship.”

“Liar,” the other three women said together, echoing that voice inside Annie’s own head.

“What you want is not to want him,” Maddy said knowingly. “Been there, done that.” She waggled a gold-banded finger. “And look how that worked out.”

“It’s complicated,” Annie insisted, still not convinced that she could have sex without risking her heart.

“Life’s complicated,” Sedona said.

“Especially when it comes to men,” Maddy agreed. “Like Kara always says, if it’s got tires or a penis, it’s bound to cause you trouble.”

Despite the fact that she was still horribly conflicted, Annie couldn’t help laughing. “Amen to that.”

“
Well, you’re here early,” Analise Peterson said when Mac arrived at Still Waters the next morning. Today’s navy blue scrubs were covered with sailboats.

“I’ve got some news I wanted to tell him before anyone else did.” He didn’t mention that after getting home from the station, frustrated from having waited in vain for Annie to call, he hadn’t gotten any sleep. “How’s he doing?”

“So far, so good. He opted for the early-bird breakfast, then went out into the garden.”

So he wasn’t watching the morning TV news. That was a good thing. “He didn’t take the paper with him, did he?”

Charlie still liked reading the
Shelter Bay Beacon
, although Mac had been told that he frustrated some residents when he’d take part in the morning news group because he’d comment on a story, then three minutes later, comment on it again, and again, as if it were new. One newcomer to the group had finally yelled at him, but according to Analise, the others had stood up for his grandfather and later suggested the new guy was going to have to work on developing tolerance if he wanted to fit in.

“No. He’s just sitting out there, looking through his scrapbook.”

“Great.” Mac wasn’t looking forward to telling Charlie about Ollie, but better that than having him hit with the news without a careful buildup.

“Speaking of scrapbooking,” the nurse said with a teasing smile, “I hear you’ve taken it up.”

“Is nothing private?”

“Nope.” She folded her arms. “I like Annie Shepherd. She helped me choose the perfect paper and embellishments for my honeymoon photo album. You could do a lot worse.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah.” Analise laughed. “From what I heard you’re really
friendly
friends. And personally, not that you asked, I think it’s great.”

“That’s because now that you’re married, you want everyone else to be married, too.”

Although he would’ve thought it a mostly female thing, Mac had watched the same phenomenon with deployed guys. Once someone returned from leave with a wedding band on, he’d start preaching the marvels of marriage. Of course, usually those marvels revolved around daily sex and lots of it.

“Guilty,” she agreed with a grin. The desk phone rang, allowing Mac to escape any inquisition.

He entered the garden, which was surrounded by walls covered with climbing vines to keep residents from wandering off. It was early enough that although the sun was rising in a clear blue sky, dew still sparkled on the dark green leaves. Mac knew his grandmother had loved gardening as much as his own mother, which, he suspected, was why Charlie, who’d never shown any interest at all in flowers, spent so much time out here.

He was, as Analise had said, looking through the scrapbook Annie Shepherd had helped him make. It was open to a photo of Charlie and his Annie, which Mac knew to have been taken on their honeymoon at Rainbow Lake.

She was seated on a log, with the waterfall behind her, wearing a pair of jeans and a red-and-white-checked blouse tied beneath her breasts. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, she was laughing at the camera, and even in the faded black-and-white photo, anyone could see the love shining in her eyes.

“Morning, Pops.”

“Morning.” Charlie didn’t bother to glance up from the photo. “When I woke up this morning, Annie reminded me about when I rowed her across the lake from our rented cabin to the lodge on the other side,” he said.

Mac knew Charlie was referring to
his
Annie. Not Mac’s. Not that Annie Shepherd
was
actually his. As she’d made perfectly clear. And, he reluctantly kept telling himself, it was probably just as well.

“We were going to have breakfast,” Charlie said. “It was early morning and the lake was smooth as glass. The fog was coming off the water, but we still couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of the bow.”

“Sounds tricky.” Mac knew from experience that fallen trees lurked beneath that seemingly serene water, waiting to snag passing boats.

“What it was was nice.” Charlie’s eyes, which had brightened while talking about his deceased wife softened with the long-ago memory. “Being young, and having been away at sea for so long, we definitely set that boat to rocking.”

Mac laughed. “Good for you.”

“Being in a war taught me how short life can be. Which is why it’s important to seize the carp.”

Mac put aside the fact that he’d definitely failed on the carpe diem advice with Annie and instead decided, since his grandfather had brought up the subject of life and death, to tell him about Ollie.

He sat down on the bench beside Charlie and stretched out his legs. “I was talking with Sax Douchett yesterday,” he said.

“Always liked that young fellow. I knew he wasn’t near as bad as he liked people to think. He was just sowing his oats. Like a lot of us do while waiting for the right woman.”

Which Kara definitely was for Sax.

Mac was beginning to feel a bit like that song he’d played the other night. About wishing on someone else’s star because it sure as hell seemed like everyone else in town was all lovey-dovey, while he was just frustrated.

“He brought up the parade.”

“Always liked the Fourth of July parade.” Charlie frowned. “Guess this’ll be the first year since 1945 I’ve missed being part of it.”

“He was thinking you might like to take part again this time. On the float,” he said quickly, in case his grandfather might get confused and think he’d be expected to walk.

“I sat on the bench with Ollie Nelson last year. We’re the last two of our generation.”

“That’s another thing I need to tell you,” Mac said gently. “Ollie passed on.”

“He did? When?”

“Night before last.”

“Oh.” At first Mac was surprised when his grandfather seemed relieved. Then clarification came. “I was afraid he’d died some other time and I’d forgotten.” He shook his head. “I might forget what I ate for breakfast, but if we’d lost Ollie and I’d forgotten, well, hell, that’d just be wrong.”

Knowing the bond that war forges, Mac understood his pops’ reasoning perfectly.

“Is he going to have a funeral?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I need to go.”

Mac wasn’t about to ask if his grandfather felt up to it. Being battle buddies created an especially deep bond. “It’s at one. I can pick you up at noon to give us plenty of time to get there and settle in.”

“Make it eleven thirty,” Charlie said with surprising clarity and decisiveness. “I’ll need time to change into my uniform, which I’ll need you to get from the house.”

“Will do,” Mac said.

Last year, in the parade when Sax rode in that convertible, looking as uncomfortable as hell in his spiffy Navy whites, Mac’s grandfather had been proud to still fit into his uniform. He suspected that this year it would hang on him, but he also knew that Charlie would consider it a necessary sign of respect.

“You think any more about that nurse?” he asked. “Annie?”

“She’s not a nurse, Pops. She’s a volunteer.”

“Makes no difference. She’s pretty enough. And sweet as taffy. You could do a lot worse. You should ask her out to dinner. Wine and dine her. That always works.”

Mac laughed, deciding there was no way he was going to share the fact that they’d already had lunch. No point in encouraging the old man about something that wasn’t going to happen.

Though, he thought, as he waved good-bye to Analise, then drove away from Still Waters, it was strange how, along with always being able to remember his conversations with Emma, Charlie seemed locked onto the idea of fixing him up with Annie Shepherd.

Just proving that Alzheimer’s might be a roller coaster, but it wasn’t one where all the cars were connected and everyone was on the same ride. Although the end was certain, the one thing he’d learned over the past eight months was that everyone’s experience was as unique as the people suffering from it.

As Mac passed the tidy shops with their colorful wind socks blowing in the sea breeze, he saw Annie out in front of Memories on Main, rolling down her yellow and white awning.

He was tempted to stop, but the fact that she hadn’t called the show last night suggested that she really was putting a stop to any relationship they might have going. Besides, since this was his father’s day for working at the clinic, Mac needed to get home, having promised to take Emma to the park, then have a hot dog roast on the beach.

So he merely slowed down, and honked once. She turned around, saw his truck, and waved. Today’s dress was a stoplight red. When a sea breeze caught and flared the flirty skirt high on her thighs, he was tempted to pull over.

Although he hadn’t been in Spec Ops, or anything secretive like that, the military had taught Mac to keep information close to his chest.

Working for AFN had also required that he keep his emotions to himself, because when he was reporting that day’s casualties, or listening to some of the personal stuff people who called in to request songs would tell him, he could’ve spent a lot of his deployments too depressed to get up in the morning.

So, while he might seem all outgoing as Radio Guy, concealing his feelings had become second nature. Until that first night with Sandy from Shelter Bay, and again at lunch, when he’d found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t with anyone. Not even his father. Or Sax, whom he’d always been closest with, back in the day.

She was probably right about not getting involved. But just watching her lips curve in that smile had him remembering her taste.

Despite the nightmares, and the ghosts, he’d told himself that compared to most guys, he was doing okay. He’d learned to deal with stuff, and things he didn’t want to deal with got put in that lockbox in his mind.

Not much got to easy, breezy Midnight Mac.

But, as fucked up as this situation could turn out to be, Annie Shepherd had sure as hell gotten to him.