Hidden Hills (28 page)

Head throbbing every step of the way, she strode briskly up the dock, hoping to never again lay eyes on the man responsible for her husband's death.

****

Pounding on the door woke Claire from a deep slumber. She covered her head with her pillow, but that wasn't enough to obliterate the sound. With a groan she rolled over and looked at her bedside clock. 8:45 a.m. Too early for someone to be visiting, in her opinion. She flipped onto her stomach and put the pillow over her head.

Two minutes later it was ripped out of her hands. “I know where you hide your key.”

“Go away, Kori. I'm not in the mood.”

“That's no way to talk to your best friend.”

Claire heard the sound of blinds being raised and sensed the room lightening. “Let any more light into this room and you'll lose the best friend title to Vivian.”

She heard a soft chuckle then more blinds rising. “I'm not worried.”

“Have some mercy.” But she knew her days of wallowing were over. This time. Kori was nothing if not persistent. Claire turned and sat up, her eyes squinting momentarily against the gray light.

Kori stood there, a ring on every finger as usual, but those fingers were curled into fists at her hips. “You avoided my calls all day yesterday, and you weren't at breakfast this morning.” Claire, Kori, and two other friends made up the “Breakfast Bettys” who met for breakfast every Thursday. It was rare that anyone missed. “What's wrong?”

Claire groaned. “It's a long story. I need coffee.”

Kori grabbed Claire's arm. “Fine. Let's go to the kitchen.”

“You don't have to pull me out of bed. I'm coming.”

When they got to the kitchen, Kori pointed to a stool at the counter. “I'll make coffee. You sit and spill.”

“Boy, you're demanding.” But she didn't mind, too much. She had been holed up too long. It was nice to have a friend come in and take charge. She watched as Kori got the beans from the refrigerator and loaded them into the grinder, her rings clinking together as she worked.

“Anytime, now.”

Claire sighed. “I'm just deciding what to tell first. How my publisher dropped me? The hundred thousand dollar advance they want back? The last-ditch effort to save my career in London? Or, how I humiliated myself in front of Adam Lambright?”

Kori finished prepping the coffee maker and flipped the “on” switch. “Girl, no wonder you've been holed up.” She settled on a stool next to Claire. “Just start at the beginning.”

A half hour and two cups of coffee later, Claire felt mildly better. They hadn't solved any of her problems, but Kori's optimism was contagious. She'd grasped onto the London trip as the perfect thing to get Claire out of her funk. “First of all, it sounds like you have no choice in the matter, so what's the point of fighting it? Second, maybe a change of scenery is just what you need to break through your writer's block.”

“Maybe.” It was the best she was willing to concede at the moment. But, maybe Kori had a point.

A knock sounded at the front door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Kori asked.

“No.” Claire padded to the front hallway, her slippers flapping on the bamboo floors. She froze when she got to the entry and saw who was standing on the other side of her glass-paned door. He was looking out over the front lawn, his back turned to her. She quickly retraced her steps back around the corner out of sight. “Oh, my goodness.”

“Who is it?”

She looked at Kori, eyes round. “It's Adam.”

Kori's eyebrows rose. “Well, aren't you going to answer it?”

“I don't know. What's he doing here?”

“Open the door and find out.”

“I don't want to see him.”

“So, you had a little breakdown in front of him. Who cares?”

“That's not why and you know it.”

“Claire… it was an accident.”

Claire clenched her jaw. She didn't want to talk about it. A different argument was needed. Looking down, she registered the ratty sweatshirt and pants she'd been wearing for two days. They smelled of old perfume and yesterday's burnt grilled cheese. “I'm not dressed.”

“You're fine. He won't care. Open the door.”

With a dramatic sigh, Claire stomped to the door, threw it open, and greeted Adam with a scowl.

“Hey.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Kori.”

“Hi, Adam. Nice to see you. Come on in.” Kori walked to the door, grabbed the handle from Claire, and opened it wider. Claire glowered at Kori, who responded with wide, innocent eyes.

Claire was left with two choices: invite Adam in or look like a jerk. “Yeah. Come on in.” The invitation was half-hearted, at best. Okay, so she looked like half a jerk.

“We were just having some coffee. I'll get you a cup,” Kori offered over her shoulder as she practically raced to the kitchen.

Claire closed the door behind Adam and turned to see him watching her. Their eyes locked for a moment in mutual suspicion. Well, it was suspicion on her part. What was he doing here anyway? He wasn't welcome in her home anymore.

She wasn't sure what she read in his eyes.

“Coffee's this way.” She broke eye contact and led him into the kitchen, suddenly conscious of how big her butt always looked in her favorite baggy sweats. As soon as she reached the kitchen, she tucked it out of sight by plopping onto a stool.

“Cream or sugar?” Kori set a steaming mug on the counter in front of Adam.

“Just black.” He picked up the mug and took a sip. “Thanks.”

He reached into his pocket and set a cell phone on the counter in front of Claire. “I found this on the boat last night.”

“Oh. Right.” So she had left her phone on the boat. That's what she'd figured when she couldn't find it, but she wasn't about to track him down and ask. She picked it up, checked the battery, and immediately rose to set it in its charger. “Um, thanks.”

She grabbed her mug and forced another sip of coffee. Adam did the same, aimlessly looking around her kitchen, the corners of his mouth drawn down. Claire suddenly remembered the last time he'd been in her home. The day he'd come to pick up his friend for a motorcycle ride. She shoved the thought away.

“So… is that all you wanted? To return my phone?”

“No.”

Puzzled, she raised an eyebrow.

He set his cup down. “I mean, yes. I should—”

“Don't leave,” Kori interrupted, gesturing to a vacant stool. “Finish your coffee and tell me what you've been up to. I haven't seen you in ages. How are the kids?”

He sat, but stayed on the edge of his seat as if he would bolt any moment.

“Scott's good. Taking a break from school and working the music scene in Seattle. He's actually gotten really good.” Claire recognized the parental pride in his face as he discussed his son.

“What's he play, again?” Kori asked. “Clarinet?”

“Sax. He's got his own jazz band and he sits in with a few other bands too.”

“Good for him. And what about Summer?”

“She's great. Working for an architect downtown. And…” Claire noticed a slight cringe, “…she just moved in with her boyfriend of two years.”

“And you don't like that?” Claire asked.

“I don't have much say in the matter. She's twenty-three, after all.”

“I forgot she's three years older than Anna.”

“Yep. Anna and Scott are the same age.”

“Right.” It felt like another life, back when the kids hung out together and their families were so close. Back when her husband and daughter were home and the house wasn't so lonely.

“Well, the kids all stay in touch. I see that whole group chatting on social media sometimes,” he said.

Adam shifted on his stool. He hadn't smiled the whole time he'd been there. Claire thought back to the times he and Mark used to spend together. Sure, they'd had their serious moments, but they were always laughing and thinking up some new adventure for the families. Back before Jen had gotten sick. And then Mark… Her memory of Adam was very different from the stiff man in front of her today. She sighed. He'd had his share of loss as well.

“Are you still flying? I didn't get to ask the other day.” A sudden image of herself blubbering all over his boat lit the fire in her cheeks again. If he noticed, he was tactful enough not to show it.

“Yeah, still flying. In fact, last night I got a call from an old Air Force buddy who wants me to take over his charter tours for the summer. That's kind of why I'm here. Well, that and your phone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He runs a tour out of London. His wife, who's English, works for an oil company. She's being sent to work in Dubai for several months, so I'm going to live in his flat this summer and run his business so he can go with her.”

“What's that got to do with me?”

He fiddled with his coffee mug and stared at the remaining contents. “The flat. It's in London. Your book tour.” He looked up. She stared at him, uncomprehending. “It's a two-room flat. You could stay there.” He buried his focus back in his coffee.

Holy cow. Was he actually offering for her to stay in London? With him? Ha! It would be a cold day down below before she'd—

“That's perfect!” Kori squealed, causing both her and Adam to jump. She swiveled Claire to face her and placed a hand on each shoulder as if she were explaining to a small child. “You need to go to London. You know you do. Your career depends on it. Adam is offering you a free place to stay…” At this she turned to look at Adam, who nodded his head in agreement. “…for as long as you need. And you could start writing again.”

Claire's head started shaking before Kori even finished. “But, Anna will be home this summer.”

“Anna's an adult. And you know Vivian and I will keep an eye on her.”

She wished Kori wouldn't be quite so enthusiastic, as if there were no question that this was the answer she needed. She didn't have the energy this morning to face so much conviction. Stealing a glance at Adam, she saw that even he looked hopeful. It was the most expression she'd seen on his face all morning. Did he really want to help her like this?

“What's in it for you?” she asked him.

“Claire!”

“Well, Kori, it's a valid question.” She turned to look Adam squarely in the face. “Why would you even offer this?”

He looked down at his hands, balled into fists, thumbs rubbing the knuckles. He stared at them a long time, probably figuring out how to make his reason sound good, whatever it was. There had to be something he got out of this — and he better not be thinking it was that! Surely even he wouldn't stoop that low. He'd have to be pretty desperate to sleep with his best friend's wife. Hmm. Maybe he needed someone to cook for him. But no, come to think of it, he and Mark had done most of the cooking for any dinner parties they'd had. House cleaning? Wouldn't it be easier to hire a maid?

He flexed his hands and met her eyes. “I just think Mark would've wanted me to look out for you.”

Shoot.

That one was harder to throw back in his face.

****

Adam grabbed a beer from the small refrigerator in his boat and brought it out to the deck, collapsing into a canvas chair. It was cold outside, but the chair was comfortable and it felt good to sit and do nothing after a long day flying and doing paperwork for his business, San Juan Air Charters. The lights from town reflected on the surface of the water, offering a cheeriness that hadn't been in evidence during the dreary daylight hours.

She hadn't called. It didn't surprise him. He was well aware of how Claire felt about him. How she blamed him. He couldn't fault her. After all, he blamed himself.

Which was why he'd had to offer.

He glanced through the window to the spot where she'd fallen apart. Man, her life seemed even more messed up than his, if that was possible. He may have become a loner, but at least his career was thriving. He'd thought hers was too, based on all the fan mail Mark used to brag about her getting. But what did Adam know about publishing? Squat. Maybe fans were fickle.

He did recognize grief when he saw it. He was surprised at how fresh hers still was. Mark had been gone longer than Jen. But then, he'd had time to prepare for Jen's death. He'd read somewhere that sudden death was trauma on top of loss. Maybe that made it harder to recover.

His thumb caressed the gold band on his left ring finger. Not that he'd recovered. Not by a long shot.

He downed the rest of his beer and went inside to grab another. Numbness sounded good tonight.

His phone rang just as he opened the fridge. He closed it, grabbed the phone, and glanced at the number. His heart constricted. That number hadn't shown up on his phone in a long time. He answered it. “Hey.”

“Adam… it's Claire.”

He heard the tension in her voice, could picture her pacing in those silly pink slippers she'd worn the other day.

“Hey.” Again. Real eloquent. But it was all he could manage.

“Is that room still available?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He was taking his best friend's widow to London.

What on earth was he thinking?

****

The Breakfast Bettys — Vivian, Julie, and Kori — threw Claire a lovely bon voyage party at the Barrel & Brig, the closest thing the island had to an English pub.

“I know you've been planning this for two months, but I still can't believe you're actually going to London with Adam.” Julie rested her chin in a freckled hand and looked wistfully at Claire.

Claire pushed her untouched burger away. “I still can't believe it either. What was I thinking?”

Vivian stabbed a bite of Caesar salad. “You were thinking, ‘Crap. I'm broke. I better save my career.'”

“I know he's changed,” Kori said, “but promise me you'll at least try to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Yeah, yeah. It's not going to be easy. He's such a…” Claire struggled to find the right word.

“Grouch?” Vivian offered.

“Stick-in-the-mud?” Kori suggested.

“Incredibly attractive man with a wounded heart?”

All three women looked at Julie.

“Sorry.” Julie didn't look the least bit sorry. “Did I say that?”

“I knew you had a soft spot for him,” Vivian said.

“Yeah, well, I have a soft spot for several men.” Since her divorce five years ago, Julie was always on the lookout for eligible men.

“So does Claire, according to Beatrice Atwell.” Vivian dabbed at her smug smile with a napkin.

“What?” Claire asked, shocked.

“Those rumors are your own fault, Claire.”

She turned to Kori. “You've heard rumors too?”

“Sure. Started by you. Don't you remember the coffee shop?”

Ah, yes. That day when she'd been ticked off enough to shock Bea with that comment about sleeping with the plumber. But, really! Who would honestly believe what she'd said? “Ugh. The gossip mill on this island drives me nuts. Give these people something better to do.”

“You do realize people will make assumptions about you and Adam?” Julie questioned.

"Yes, I know. I'm trying to just ignore that. Besides, when I get back — still single — in the fall, anyone who has made stupid assumptions will find out how wrong they were.” Claire picked up her glass of beer and took a sip.

“Or not,” Vivian teased.

Claire set down her glass and looked sternly at her friends. “Let's get one thing straight, girls. Nothing will ever go on with Adam and me. Furthermore, I am not going to London to find any sort of man, whatsoever. I'm going for work only. Got it?”

Kori placed her hand on Claire's. “We know. But you never know. Not with Adam, of course,” she hastened to add as Claire's eyes narrowed. “But someone else may enter the picture. Just don't close yourself off to love.”

“Aargh!” She shook off Kori's hand. “I'm not ‘closed off to love.'” She mimicked Kori's words using two fingers on each hand as quotation marks. “But, can I first just get to the point where I'm not longing for Mark every day?” She looked each of her friends in the eyes to drive the point home.

“We're sorry. We only want you to be happy.”

Claire knew they did. She sighed. “Trust me, I'd like to be happy too. I just don't see it in the cards anytime soon.”

A rare silence descended on the table.

“So, Adam's taking you to the airport tomorrow?” Julie was obviously trying to change the subject.

“No, Vivian is.”

“Why not Adam?”

Claire shook her head. Her friends didn't need to know everything, certainly not the argument she'd had with Adam last week. “It's just better this way.”

"Besides," Vivian said with a smile, "I'm also going to double-check her suitcases and make sure she didn't pack anything that will embarrass us.”

“Vivian!” Claire rolled her eyes.

“If I see one item of fleece in there, I'm throwing it out. I didn't lend you all my best city outfits for nothing. This is a fresh start for you.” Vivian regularly traveled to San Francisco, Chicago, and New York for work.

“I am looking forward to an excuse to dress up. I'm kind of tired of my Pacific Northwest staples.” Claire looked around at all the locals in the restaurant. Fleece or flannel could be seen on almost everyone.

Kori slapped the table. “I think it's time for presents.”

Three brightly-colored packages were placed before Claire. She took her time opening them, savoring the moment and the love she felt from these women, her dearest friends. Julie gave her a cheery umbrella that folded down into nothing so she'd “always be prepared” in London.

“It's perfect. Thank you, Julie.”

“Open mine next.” Vivian pointed to a small, square package. “I want you to be prepared, too.” Claire caught the wink she gave Julie and Kori.

She skeptically undid the wrapping to reveal a little silver box, the kind to hold a bracelet or pair of earrings. Lifting the lid, she found herself staring at a small pile of condoms.

“For Pete's sake, Vivian! You didn't!” Her face glowed red as Kori gasped and Julie burst out laughing.

“Just bring them along. I know you don't think you'll need them, but you never know. You'd want Anna to be prepared,” Vivian hastily added as Claire opened her mouth to protest. “And the last thing you need is to get pregnant when you're almost fifty. You still could, you know.”

“Forty-one is not almost fifty! And I will not need these.” She thrust the lid back on the box and shoved it away from her under a dirty napkin.

“Open my gift.” Kori slid a cheery gift bag over to Claire.

“As long as it's not more ‘protection.'”

Under layers of tissue paper lay a beautiful, embossed leather journal. Because this adventure is momentous enough to deserve its own journal, Kori had written on the inside cover. Your other journals represent the past. This one begins your future.

Claire's eyes filled with tears as she hugged her friend.