Second Chance (18 page)

“I found some letters,” Elle said. “My grandmother loved your husband.”

Evelyn folded her arms across her chest and any conviviality she’d shown them was gone. She lowered herself primly on the living room couch, crossing her legs. “I’m aware.”

“I wasn’t,” Elle said. “I didn’t know.”

“Perhaps you were the only one,” she said icily.

“Perhaps. It doesn’t sound as if my grandmother told anyone.”

Evelyn couldn’t hide her disgust. “She didn’t need to. Everyone knew.”

“So, why do you want the cottage then?” Elle asked.

Evelyn toyed with the diamond tennis bracelet that circled her wrist. “Because it’s an excellent piece of real estate.”

Elle shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Elle?” Cash asked.

She knew what he was asking. Why was she here? She had the answers she needed. Why did she feel the need to come and confront Evelyn?

Elle stared at Evelyn for a long moment. “My grandmother and Robert Landemeer were a couple. Young. In love.” She paused. “Like me and Cash. But he decided on a military career and was called overseas during World War II. He left her here. She told him she’d wait for him to come back.” Her eyes softened. “But then she was worried he wouldn’t come home. She didn’t hear from him. Letters stopped coming. So she moved on. Without him. And married my grandfather.”

Evelyn stared ahead, stone-faced.

Elle swallowed hard, the room still feeling cold, and she continued. “When Robert came home, my grandmother was gone. To Wisconsin. He tracked her down. Wrote her letters. And she had to tell him that she was already married. And that she wouldn’t leave her husband because it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

Evelyn cleared her throat and Elle continued. “So that’s when he met you. And the two of you were married.”

“And he loved me,” Evelyn said, defiant.

Elle nodded. “He did, yes. Neither of them wanted to hurt their spouses. They cared about them. They remained faithful to their vows.” She paused. “But they still wrote letters.”

Evelyn looked like she wanted to spit.

“And then they agreed to stop,” Elle said, turning back to Cash. “Because you discovered the letters and threatened Robert with divorce. So he wrote to my grandmother and told her that they couldn’t continue writing. That was the last letter I read.”

“Figures she kept them,” Evelyn said.

“Here’s where I’m guessing,” Elle said. “According to my mother, my grandfather and Robert died around the same time. My grandmother moved back here to the island. And I think it was just to be near her memories.”

“Or, to remind me that I was second choice,” Evelyn said, the distaste for Elle’s grandmother palpable.

Elle shook her head. “I don’t think so. That wasn’t my grandmother. She wouldn’t have done that. I think she wanted to come back here and be close to the person she loved without stepping on his life. Otherwise, she would’ve returned before he passed.”

Evelyn didn’t say anything.

“She just wanted some closure,” Elle said.. “That was all. It wasn’t about you, Evelyn. It was about her.”

Evelyn shook her head, refusing to look at Elle.

“And you don’t want her cottage because of where it sits or how much it’s worth,” Elle said. “You want it so you can get rid of it. Raze it, probably. Erase the last bit of her so you don’t have to think about it anymore.” She paused. “But I’m not going to let that happen.”

The room was quiet. Elle had said everything she wanted to say.

“Are you done?” Evelyn asked. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and it looked as though she’d aged a decade in the time they’d been talking.

Elle hesitated. Before they’d headed over, she’d disappeared into her grandmother’s room. Withdrew the stack of envelopes. And, slowly, hesitatingly, withdrew the bottom one on the pile.

She walked over to Evelyn and sat down next to her on the couch. Evelyn shifted, trying to put some distance between them.

“He loved you, too,” Elle said. “If he hadn’t, he would’ve gone and found her. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t.” She pulled the letter from her pocket and thrust it at Evelyn. “He told my grandmother he loved you and that you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

Evelyn stared at the yellowed enveloped. She looked at Elle.

“Take it.”

Evelyn hesitated, then took it from her. Her hands trembled.

“He loved you, too,” Elle repeated.

There was nothing left to say. She stood and, after a minute’s hesitation, touched her hand to Evelyn’s arm. The elderly woman clutched the envelope tight.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice choked with unshed tears.

“There needs to be something good to come from all of this,” Elle told her. “No more secrets. No more lies.”

THIRTY-SIX

Elle breathed deeply. The ocean air filled her lungs and she dug her feet deeper into the sand. They’d left Evelyn’s house and, instead of heading back to her grandmother’s cottage, they’d gone the other direction, toward Cash’s place. He’d parked and led her to the beach. There was no public access to this part of the island and the beach was deserted.

“I’m glad we finally know,” he said.

She picked up a handful of sand and studied it. The sunlight glinted off the tiny particles. They looked like miniature crystals. “Me, too.”

“So, now what?” he asked. “You said you had a buyer for the house. As your agent, I would think this would be information you’d share with me.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He frowned. “Don’t have to share with me? Of course you do.”

“No, no,” she said. “I meant I don’t have a buyer. I just didn’t want her to think that the house was ever going to end up in her hands. Because it won’t.”

“So…” Cash’s voice trailed off. “What does that mean?”

“It means what it means,” she said. She dropped the handful of sand she was holding and scooped up another one. “Someone else will want it. I’ll spend the summer here like I planned. Fix it up.”

“You think your mom will still cut you a commission?” he asked. “After the phone call you just had?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think so. She might be underhanded and cruel, but she’s also fair. A deal is a deal with her.”

He nodded. “OK.” He shifted closer to her so that their legs were touching. “I think I might know someone who’s interested in buying it.”

Elle’s stomach dropped. She knew he’d mentioned that it would be going on the market—he’d told her he was going to, to create a buzz, he’d said—but it didn’t mean she was ready that minute to sell. She wanted to do exactly what she’d told him. Fix it up. And spend time on the island.

With him.

Because, once the house sold, she didn’t know where she’d end up. She’d already been cheated out of twelve years with him. She didn’t want to be cheated out of anything more.

“Oh?” she asked. “Who?”

“A guy I know,” he said. “He’s pretty big into buying investment properties. He wouldn’t move in. Just buy it and then rent it out.”

She thought about this. “Would it be like a long-term rental or a beach rental kind of thing?” she asked. “Or do you even know?”

Her hopes soared just a bit. If it were a beach rental, she could come back. Spend a little bit of time there each summer. Her heart swelled at the thought.

“I think he’d do whatever you thought was best,” he said softly.

She looked at him. “Why would he care what I thought?”

“Because,” he said, his eyes locked with hers. “Because the house is special. And because the woman who owns it is the only woman he’s ever really loved.”

She gaped at him. “You?” she managed. “You would buy it?”

He nodded.

“Why” she asked.

“Because you love that house,” he told her. He curved his arm around her, pulling her close. “And because this is something I can do for you.”

“I don’t know
…”

“Look,” Cash said. “I have the means. I want to do this. Let me.” His hand caressed her shoulder. “I’m actually a pretty lenient landlord. Might even let you stick around for free. You know, if you promise to keep up the place.”

“I don’t want charity,” Elle began, but he cut her off.

“It’s not charity,” he said firmly. “It’s my way of keeping you here. I lost you before. I’m not going to lose you again, Elle.”

She stared at him, looking for something in his expression that she was missing or misunderstanding. But it was just him. He meant it. He’d buy the cottage. He’d be with her. He’d love her.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she said.

He nodded slowly. “I think I believe you.”

She reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me, Cash. And it won’t be my home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want it?”

“No, I want it,” she said.

“So why won’t it be your home then?”

She leaned up, brushed her lips against his, pressed her fingers to his cheek.

“It’ll be our home,” she whispered, smiling at him. “Ours.”

THE END