Summer on Lovers' Island (11 page)

When she'd served both plates, her mom looked up with worried eyes. “Won't your dad be joining us? Where is he? Is he working late again?”

Lizzie's heart plummeted to her feet and she swallowed against the lump of futility in her throat. “It's just you and me today, Mom,” she said, forcing a smile and handing over a napkin. “Try the chicken.”

“Your father works too hard. He never comes to see me,” Rosemary complained, her voice taking on a plaintive quality that grated on Lizzie's nerves, making her feel even more guilty.

“Then let's just make this a girly day,” she suggested lightly. She got up and spread the napkin on her mother's lap. She would not cry or let her frustrations show. She would be patient, kind …

Sad.

No, she had to lock that away for later. So she poured lemonade into her mother's glass and handed it to her. “I know I'm not much of a cook, but I made the lemonade myself, just this morning. What do you think?”

She saw Rosemary's hand tremble a bit as she lifted the drink to her lips and sipped. “It's tart,” she replied, puckering her lips. “Just the way your father likes it. Will he be joining us today?”

More swallowing of tears. “Not today,” Lizzie replied. She forced herself to take a bite of chicken, trying to lead by example, but it didn't taste good anymore. She was desperate to change the subject. “What are you crocheting, Mom? The yarn looked so pretty, a really nice shade of pink.”

Finally Rosemary picked up her fork and started to eat. “Hats. For the neonatal unit.” She tasted her potato salad, then daintily cut a cucumber slice in fourths. “A few of the other ladies and I work on them and the nurses take them to the hospital.” She met Lizzie's gaze. “It makes me feel like I'm doing something important.”

“It
is
important,” Lizzie agreed. “I'm glad. Can I do something to help? Buy you some yarn? There's a craft shop in town that I think probably carries it.”

“Some yellow or light green would be nice.”

“I'll bring it next time I visit, how about that?”

“Thank you, dear.”

Lizzie noted with some pleasure that her mom had eaten a good portion of her meal, rather than picking at stuff as she often did. Encouraged, Lizzie reached down into the cooler for one final dish. “Mom, I brought dessert. Your favorite, coconut cream pie.” She put the container on the table and removed the lid.

Rosemary made a face and looked at the pie with disgust. “But I hate coconut. That's never been my favorite. Whatever made you think that?”

Oh, maybe just the fact that every special occasion since Lizzie could remember Rosemary had offered to make coconut cream pies. If they went out to eat it was her favorite thing to order for dessert, and years ago, before her memory had started to slip, she'd had a list of the best places to get it and the ones to avoid. Who made the best pastry and where the filling was the creamiest.

Lizzie felt like weeping for the umpteenth time. The only parent she had left, and her mother was slipping away by degrees. And today had been a good day. Now even the good days wore on Lizzie and she found it harder and harder to rejoice in the lucid moments.

“I'm sorry, Mom. My mistake.” She packed away the pie before Rosemary could get upset and smiled. “Maybe we can sneak some ice cream from the kitchen. What's your favorite flavor?”

“Vanilla,” Rosemary answered clearly. “But shouldn't we wait for your father? He'll be so sorry he missed lunch.”

Lizzie felt like banging her head on the table. It hurt to think of her dad at the best of times, but to be reminded this way by her mom was nearly unbearable. How many times could a person's heart break anyway?

“Let's sneak into the kitchen, then. See what's in the freezer.”

She packed the dirty dishes into the cooler and zipped the top, then walked with her mom back over the lawns, through the gardens and flower beds to the low building that housed the patients. It looked like a lovely, restful place … until you got to the front doors and recognized the security features in place to keep patients from wandering away.

Lizzie guided her mom to the kitchen, where they managed to sneak a scoop each of vanilla ice cream before Rosemary started to show signs of fatigue and Lizzie helped her back to her room. “Thanks for having lunch with me today, Mom.” She put her arms around her mother, closed her eyes, and realized once more that the woman before her was her mother and yet bore little resemblance to the woman she'd known all her life. Rosemary had lost weight over the last few years, and she didn't smell the same, like her preferred laundry soap mixed with Chanel perfume, a scent she'd always called “classic.”

What surprised Lizzie the most was that she wasn't only grieving for one parent. She was mourning two.

Gently, she helped her mom to her bed. “You're tired. Why don't you rest your eyes for a bit? It's time for me to go anyway, but I'll be back soon. Is there anything I can bring you?”

Rosemary sat on the edge of the bed, acquiescing to Lizzie's attentions, her body totally submissive. “I wish you could bring Russ back. I miss him so, Lizzie.”

Christ, what a moment for lucidity to return. Lizzie continued removing her mom's shoes, but the view of them was blurred by tears. “I miss him, too, Mom.”

“He was so proud of you. So am I.”

Lizzie sniffed, gathered herself together, and lifted her head with a smile. “Thanks. He was a really great inspiration, you know?”

Rosemary nodded sadly. “Yes. Better than I ever was.”

Lizzie sat beside her mom and took her hand. “You are the best mother I could ask for,” she whispered. “And don't you forget it.”

But Rosemary would. As she usually did. It never seemed to make sense, what she pulled from her memories. But Lizzie was highly doubtful her mother would remember today. Certainly not the things they'd said.

As if she could read Lizzie's thoughts, Rosemary squeezed her hand and looked at her with a tired but concerned expression. “Lizzie, did you remember to pay the bill for lunch?”

“It's taken care of, Mom. You rest.” She eased her mother down on the bed and covered her with a light blanket. Lizzie, who wasn't generally prone to emotional displays of affection, leaned over and kissed her mom's forehead in a way similar to how Rosemary had kissed hers when she was a little girl, being tucked in for a nap or bedtime. “Love you.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Rosemary sighed, a contented sound. “Maybe Russ will be by later. He promised.”

“Maybe,” Lizzie replied, feeling like she'd been through an emotional wringer, wondering exactly when she and her mother had made such a complete reversal of roles.

She left as Rosemary was drifting off to sleep, stopped to chat briefly with staff, and then hit the road, heading back to Jewell Cove. And wondered what it meant that she was relieved to be returning to the little cottage instead of her condo in Springfield. Somehow the little spot overlooking the inlet was exactly where she needed to be.

Not in the bustle of the city or the chaos of an emergency room.
Good God.
She might actually be losing her edge.

*   *   *

Honest to God, if Sarah tried to set him up one more time he was going to lose his cool and be very blunt in telling her to back off.

This time it was an impromptu family trip to Sally's Dairy Shack for banana splits. Josh shook his head as he stood in line, wondering why he hadn't seen it coming. Summer Arnold was behind the counter taking orders, her pink-striped hair pulled back into a weird twist and covered with a hairnet. Her diamond-stud nose ring was visible, and with her hair pulled back so was the row of earrings in each ear, including one ear cuff hooked by a chain to a dangling daisy earring.

She was so not his type. Not that she wasn't a nice girl. She was. He'd known her for years. Sarah and Jess thought a lot of her, which was why he'd tolerated a certain amount of interference. But really, they had to stop doing this. He wasn't interested. Full stop. And it was getting damned awkward.

Matthew and Suzie placed their orders, and then Mark and Sarah ordered splits for six—the two of them, plus Rick and Jess and Meggie and Josh. When Josh went to collect his, Summer gave him a sympathetic smile. “Extra pineapple on yours. I know you like it that way.”

He hoped he didn't blush. “Thanks, Summer.”

He started to take the plastic boat from her hands, but she held on just a second until he looked up at her. It surprised him to see she had understanding written all over her face. “Don't worry about it, Josh. Eventually they'll stop pushing.”

He didn't know what to say. Everyone was milling around and he really wanted to respond, but now wasn't the time or place. He should have realized that Summer had to feel the pressure to pair them up, too. It was fairly obvious. Before he could change his mind, he found himself asking her out.

“Listen, do you want to grab a bite or go for a walk or something … sometime?” Boy, he sounded like an idiot. “It'd probably be better to talk without an audience.”

She leaned a little bit forward. “That'd be nice,” she agreed. “And definitely better than dancing around the topic. I work at the caf
é
until seven tomorrow, but I'm free after that.”

“Sounds good. I'll pick you up there.” He stood back and raised his voice slightly. “Thanks, Summer.”

“Anytime.” She smiled and moved on to the next customer while Josh took his banana split and plastic spoon and headed toward the picnic table where the rest of the family was waiting. Had he seriously just asked her on a date? This could be the perfect way to get people to leave him alone. Or it could just backfire in a big way. God, women were complicated—and that included his sisters and mother.

The kids finished their sundaes in record time and decided to go look for jellyfish beside the wharf. The adults sat around the picnic table, chatting in the soft summer evening. The conversation all centered around Jess's progressing pregnancy, what Sarah's kids were doing over the summer, and Mark's “vacation” now that school was out for the year and he and Sarah could take the kids on day trips. Josh felt spectacularly left out, though he knew it was unintentional. These were their lives. He had his. If things had been different, he and Erin might have been here now, with a kid or two, talking about the same things. It certainly wasn't Jess's or Sarah's fault and Josh certainly didn't begrudge them a bit of their happiness.

The simple truth was that Erin hadn't wanted his babies and their marriage hadn't been a strong one to begin with. Everyone in Jewell Cove thought it was his grief over her death that kept him from exploring a new relationship, and he didn't bother to disabuse them of that notion.

He simply refused to enter into a relationship that didn't have a strong foundation. Things had to click from the get-go. They had to want the same things, have the same values and … well, whatever it was that made perfect couples mesh. That magical, special something that said someone was The One.

Erin hadn't been his One. He'd known it and ignored it and he would never, ever do that again. He wouldn't—couldn't—settle.

He wanted a partner. Someone as committed to him as he would be to her. There had to be love and desire and trust and a best friend. The kind of partners his sisters had found, he realized. His cousin, too. They'd been incredibly lucky, he realized. It was a lot to ask of one person.

“Josh, how's Dr. Howard making out?” Sarah was the first to pose the question, and he pushed his thoughts aside.

“Fine. More than fine, actually. She's very professional, efficient, and sharp.” He shrugged a little. “Truth be told, her talents are probably a little wasted here in Jewell Cove. But Charlie was right on. She's a great doctor.”

“Pretty, too,” Rick said, earning him an elbow from Jess. “What? I still have eyes, you know.” He sent his wife a soft smile. “Besides, no one is as pretty as my wife.”

Sarah made gagging noises that made everyone laugh.

“So what's she doing here, then? If she's such a hotshot?”

Josh considered what to say. Lizzie had confided in him a bit, but it wasn't his story to tell, not at all. Her reasons were private, so he merely responded, “Charlie's her best friend. And hell, it'd be silly to pass up the opportunity for a paid summer in Jewell Cove, wouldn't it?”

That seemed to appease them for the moment, but not for long. Sarah leaned against Mark's shoulder when her banana split was gone and studied Josh with an affectionate expression softening her face. “Josh honey, really, isn't it time you started dating again? You're a real catch, you know. Not that many handsome doctors around. And you can't be alone forever.”

Would the woman never let up? He chuckled, though it felt forced. “Seriously, Sarah, can't you focus on something more important than my love life?”

“Come on, Josh,” Jess teased. “When was the last time you got laid?”

“Jessica!” Meggie interrupted, but when Josh looked at his mother her lips were twisted as if she was trying not to laugh.

“I haven't forgotten how, if that's what you're worried about.”

“I'm not listening, na na na na.…” Meggie covered her ears, but her eyes twinkled.

“Leave the guy alone,” Rick stood up for Josh. “He'll get around to it. Sometime before he's eighty.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Josh remarked, sending Rick a sideways glare.
What the hell,
he thought. Maybe letting the cat out of the bag would get them off his case. “For your limited information, I'm meeting Summer after she's done work tomorrow night. So get off my back, all right?”

The teasing continued until even Josh had to laugh. Was he prepared or did he need to go to the drugstore, be home by midnight … it went on and on. He took it because he knew it all came from a place of love. They just wanted to see him happy.