The Things I Do For You (30 page)

Authors: Mary Carter

BOOK: The Things I Do For You

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“I can’t wait to see the lighthouse tower,” Faye said. “That was our favorite Nancy Drew, remember, Ellie? Nancy and the lighthouse tower.”

“The light isn’t working,” Joyce said.

“What on earth?” Faye said.

“First it was the batteries, now they think it’s a wiring problem,” Bailey said. “The Coast Guard is working on it.”

“It’s because of the ghost,” Joyce said.

“Would you stop?” Meg said. “Faye, why don’t you take these two back to the Rotten Apple with you.”

“I’d put them to work,” Faye said. Bailey couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. She missed her work as an agent. It was one thing to put up with whiny clients when you stood to get a pile of money at the end of it; it was quite another when you were barely making ends meet and still had to clean their dirty sheets and dishes. Let’s face it, she was a cook and a maid.

“So,” Faye said when she was done inspecting her room. “Have you guzzled all the wine, or is there anything left for me?”

It was so nice to have her family around. Bailey noticed with affection that Thomas and her dad hung around Brad for the most part while the “girls” caught up. Jason tried joining the men at first, then gradually drifted over to the women and stayed. Despite her tendency to criticize, Faye was impressed with the lighthouse, and they all felt a little bit of awe as they stood on deck watching the ships pass below.

“They’re going to get this light fixed while you’re here,” Bailey said. “I can feel it.” She gave them the tour, pointing out all the technical terms she’d learned in the few short months she’d been here, something that seemed to impress all of them. They were set to have a barbecue that evening. Captain Jack even promised them some fresh fish caught by one of the locals. Bailey was taking anyone who wanted into town where they could have a few hours hitting the antique shop, bookstore, and ice cream parlor. She was happy to see that Brad was throwing a football by the water with Thomas and her dad, and several times when she looked over they were all laughing. Her family wasn’t perfect by any means, but surely Brad could see that for the most part, they brought joy. Once again she was reminded that he didn’t grow up with this—his frame of reference was much, much bleaker, and it had to be the reason he was afraid to have children of his own. Maybe a long weekend with her family was just what the doctor ordered.

By the time they had spent a few hours hitting the little shops in town, Bailey was starting to feel a sense of pride and excitement. The gang thought everything was so quaint, and even Jason was starting to ask how much property cost in the area.

“I couldn’t live here full-time, mind you,” he said. “But it is a charming spot to get away from it all.”

Faye pulled her aside after they hit the ice cream parlor, cornering her when she had her mouth full of Rocky Road. “You and your charming husband seem very happy.” Bailey glanced over at Brad, who was leaning against the counter listening to her father. Who knows what he was going on about, but Brad was in for a long one. Brad felt her watching him and met her eyes. He gave her a little eyebrow movement, then smiled.

“We have our moments,” Bailey said.

“And are any of these moments leading up to a little something in the oven?”

Bailey laughed. “I can’t believe you still use that expression.”

“I’m old,” Faye said. “If I can get over it, you can too.”

“We’ve got enough on our plates right now raising a lighthouse,” Bailey said.

“Your eggs don’t last forever, darling,” Faye said. “Take it from me.”

“You wanted to have children?”

“I still do,” Faye said.

“Right,” Jason said. “You changing diapers.”

“Oh, it’s not a reality anymore,” Faye said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want them. In theory.”

“In theory, they are perfect,” Jason whispered loudly to Bailey.

“If I were you, I’d carry on that man’s adorable genes right this instant,” Faye said.

“It’s not that easy,” Bailey said. She maneuvered away from Faye and managed to herd the group back outside. They only had an hour before they had to catch the ferry back to the house. Everyone was tired, and Brad suggested they head back to the ferry anyway and get Jack to take them home early. He wanted to go out on the rowboat with Thomas before it got dark, and her dad was eager to start the barbecue. As they approached the ferry, they noticed Jack speaking with a woman. Her back was to them, but from behind she was tall with a nice figure and long, dark hair. The rest of the group continued toward the pair, but Brad stopped in his tracks. His arm shot out and grabbed Bailey as she went by.

“What?” she said.

“You tell me,” Brad said. “What did you do?” She looked at Brad’s face. He was ten years old again. Just then, the woman with Captain Jack turned around. It was amazing how good she looked for a woman who had done years of hard drugs and alcohol. Elizabeth Jordan. What had she done indeed.

Chapter 29

H
e’d been so relaxed with her family, so happy. Every time she looked over at Brad, he was telling a joke, or patting Thomas on the back, or listening to her father with genuine interest. Every time she’d looked over at him, a strong feeling of love washed over her, and a physical sensation that was even stronger than touching him. When someone is yours, they are yours. Their smell, their smile, the way they glance at you over the heads of others, seeking out your head. You know you’ll be in bed with that man and get to snuggle up to him and talk about everything happening in your day. Now with the B&B they got to gossip about their guests, saving up little tidbits from the day to share with each other at night.

With one glance at his mother, it was all undone. His smile, his good posture, his dimple. How long had it been since he’d seen her? Definitely over five years. The enormity of what she’d done was just starting to hit Bailey. But she hadn’t meant for Elizabeth to just show up unannounced. She’d expected a phone call, a letter, a text, something. Any kind of warning at all. She wished she could turn back time, watch all of them walk backward so that she could do something to make Elizabeth Jordan disappear. Should she confess or pretend she had nothing to do with Brad’s mother showing up out of the blue?

“Bailey invited me,” Elizabeth called out. Everyone was just standing in a half circle several feet away from her, enrapt but keeping their distance like it was feeding time at the zoo. Bailey didn’t dare look at Brad, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“I sent your mom one of those postcards,” Bailey said. “I casually said I hoped she’d visit sometime. I actually didn’t know you were coming, Elizabeth.”

“You sent letters, you texted, you called,” Elizabeth repeated. “You practically stalked me.”

“It’s been a long time, Mom,” Brad said. Bailey let out her breath. At least he was talking. She’d seen Brad descend into periods of silence. He’d gone days in the past without speaking. Those had been some of the worst days of her life. He hadn’t done it since their worst day at the coffee shop when the beans were bitter, and the milk wouldn’t froth, and the inspector found a family of ants underneath a shelf of coffee mugs and fined them a thousand bucks. Bailey was the one who’d eaten the scone and forgotten to clean up the crumbs that attracted the ants.

And it had come at the worst time—a long line of customers that Brad was trying to impress and an espresso machine on the fritz, and even though she had sworn up and down that she had carefully checked the date on the milk, it was obvious that she had not. He didn’t stop speaking to her to be deliberately cruel, it was just a genuine depression that settled over him, leaving him mute, a man without words. As long as he was talking, even if it was angry talk, it was better than the wall of silence.

“Everybody on the ferry,” Bailey said. She was determined to muscle through this. Maybe it was a good thing her family was there; they could help distract Brad from the thing that was his mother. She was dressed as if going to a cocktail party: a tight green dress with sequins. Her hair was shiny and black as if just dipped in a well of ink. Her face was heavily made up, fake eyelashes, dark eyeliner, strong pink lipstick. She looked great for her age, but she looked a bit trashy too. But as far as Bailey could tell, she was sober, and that was saying something.

“You all go on ahead,” Brad said. “Bailey and I are going to row over.”

“What?”

“We have to get the boat back anyway,” Brad said. “You left it moored behind Island Supplies last time, remember?” Moored was a nice word for it. She’d actually kicked it a few times before hitching a ride with Captain Jack.

“Maybe Thomas would like to go with you,” Bailey said. Brad put his arm around Bailey and pulled her close. Then he whispered in her ear.

“Don’t even try,” he said.

“Brad and I will see you all over there.” Faye and Jason swept Elizabeth up in the boat. Surely they didn’t think she could afford one of their penthouses? And was it her imagination or was her father staring at Elizabeth? Her mom had a jealous streak, just like Bailey, so for her father’s sake she hoped he would stop soon. Maybe it was a good thing she was going in the rowboat after all. Maybe she and Brad could row off into the sunset and leave all of them behind. She still couldn’t tell how much trouble she was in; Brad was playing it close to his chest. They didn’t speak as they trudged from the ferry to the rowboat about thirty feet away.

Brad’s back muscles flexed as he pulled the boat from the grass embankment to the water. Bailey waited until they were both ass-in-rowboat to speak. “I didn’t think she was going to just show up like that, I swear,” she said. Brad pushed off, and the little boat glided out with a whoosh. Bailey had to grip the side to keep her balance. The new rowboat was better than the old one, but it too had sprung a leak. Even though Brad had patched it, water was still trickling in, getting Bailey’s shoes wet. She hated having wet feet, but she found she could only complain about so many things at one time. “Please don’t be mad. Not with my family here. I don’t think I’ll be able to get through the next few days if you’re mad at me.” It was true too. Bailey soaked up Brad’s moods like they were her own. It didn’t seem to work so much the other way around—many were the times that he’d been clueless that Bailey was upset. Especially when he was in workaholic mode. This would often make Bailey even more upset than the original event. How in the world could he miss the fact that she was upset? Many were the nights when the fight would end with Brad throwing up his arms and yelling, “You don’t even remember what you’re so upset about!”

“That’s not the point.”

“How can that not be the point? Why am I being punished for not noticing that you’re upset when you don’t even remember what you’re so upset about?” Often Bailey had no reply but to stomp away. Brad didn’t have that option. In this rowboat it was sink or swim.

As Brad pushed off in the rowboat, Bailey watched the ferry make its way across the Hudson River. He followed her gaze. “It’s just you and me,” he said. His words washed over her like the remnants of a familiar but long-forgotten song. He used to say that to her all the time. In front of their fireplace in their little café in Colorado, the one time they got it to work, just one glorious almost-hour before they were overtaken with smoke and found out it would cost three thousand dollars to clean the chimney and repair broken bricks and the flue, and Brad swore they would fix it as soon as they started to turn a profit and Bailey insisted they would start turning more of a profit if they had a roaring fire for people to sip their coffee by, and they never did fix it because they didn’t stay long enough to turn a profit because the fireplace may have been the first, but wasn’t the last item that needed fixing, so yes, they only got one fire, one hour, but oh, what a fire it was, what a magical hour.

Crackling orange heat sparking out at them like the tips of fat burning fingers, and Brad’s smiling mouth and dimples, and his beautiful eyes staring into hers. Then he took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers one by one, slowly working up to using his tongue on her palm, such a simple gesture but the sensation so erotic it led to her reaching for his belt buckle. They made love so much when they were in their twenties. When they hit thirty they vowed they would do it five times a week no matter what. In reality they averaged once or twice a week, and lately, not even that much.

“You’re not rowing,” Bailey said. They’d barely made any progress. The ferry had long reached the other side. They would be wanting dinner soon. “They’re going to kill each other,” Bailey said.

“You and me,” Brad said.

“And baby makes three.” Bailey said it before she could censor herself. It just flew out of her mouth. That was something else they used to say. Oh yes, there was a time when they did talk about it, actually when Brad talked about it. What were they, sixteen? He would say, “You and me,” she would repeat, “You and me,” and he would smile at her with that look of being up to no good and add, “And baby makes three.” It used to send a chill down her spine. He wanted to have babies with her back then. He teased her about it. What happened? Had she missed some tiny, precious window of time? Her biological clock was fine, but had her husband’s run out?

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Brad said.

“Are you going to push me overboard and pretend it was an accident?” Bailey said.

“No,” Brad said. “But I do have something to tell you.” They were thirty feet from where they pushed off, and a long, long way from the lighthouse.

“Push me off instead,” Bailey said. “Say it was an accident.” Nobody ever wanted to hear “I have something to tell you.” Did anything good ever follow those words? The last time Brad said that to her, he’d bought the lighthouse.

“Bailey, please.”

“Look. My mom and dad are here. And my sister. And my niece and nephew. Your mom is here.”

“Thank you for reciting the guest list, gorgeous, but I still got something I have to tell you.” He’d called her gorgeous. This couldn’t be too bad.

Or was it worse?

“Haven’t you ever heard of a time and a place?”

“Did you tell my mother that Aunt Olivia left us money? Is that why she’s here?” Bailey looked at the sky. Lazy strips of blue intersected fluffy white clouds. A tugboat honked downriver. She couldn’t lie to Brad. Lying in a marriage was a no-no. Especially if she could easily get caught. And of course Elizabeth would bring it up, why wouldn’t she? But if she admitted that the only reason Elizabeth was here was because she happened to mention that Olivia left them a fortune, then the chances of Brad reconciling with either of them could be slim.

“That’s one question answered,” Brad said. “You should have asked Olivia for a few poker-face tips.”

“Are you mad at me?” Bailey said. “I just wanted—”

“Me to get over my mommy issues so we could have a baby?”

“Wow,” Bailey said. She couldn’t believe how well he knew her. “That’s outrageous!” Bailey said. “I cannot believe you just said that to me.”

“I don’t care,” Brad said. “It’s okay.”

“So why did you row me mid-river?”

“I never get to talk to you alone anymore.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Why do you sound argumentative? I’m just trying to talk to you here.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I did want you to make up with your mother. Or kick her out of your life for good.”

“Because you think that’s why we don’t have a baby?” Bailey grabbed the oars and pulled, pulled, pulled. “You’re going the wrong way.” She glared at Brad, then, forgetting which direction they were going, she laid on the oars once again and pushed, pushed, pushed.

“I. Don’t. Know,” Bailey said as she exerted herself and the rowboat inched toward the lighthouse. “I’ve turned over every scenario.”

“Oh, you have, have you?”

“Yes,” Bailey said. “I have.” She should really let him do the rowing. It was killing her. And they were barely getting anywhere. And his arms were folded across his chest and he was leaning back in the little boat and he looked so freaking smug. He unfolded his arms, held them aloft.

“Let’s hear the scenarios.”

Bailey paused from her rowing and looked up at him. Her hair was starting to frizz to the sides. Sweat was pooling under her armpits. She wanted to dump him off the boat. She also needed him to start the grill. Life was a constant series of conflicting wants and needs.

“You don’t want me to list them right now.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“You’re impotent, you’re selfish, you’re scared, you think I’ll love our baby more than I love you, you’re lazy, you’re spoiled, you have mommy issues, you want to sleep with other women, you think I’ll get fat, you think we’ll stop having sex, you never grew up with a loving family so you don’t believe they exist, you think I’d be a terrible mother—”

“Bailey Rene Jordan!”

“You asked.”

“Scream it again. I don’t think the tugboat driver heard you over his whistle.” The boat bobbed in the water as they fell silent. Bailey trailed her hand in the cold river.

“You brought me out here so I couldn’t throw anything, didn’t you?” Bailey said. Brad smiled.

“It’s a bonus,” he admitted.

“So what did you want to tell me?”

“My mother is not a well woman.”

“That, my darling, is no secret.”

“If she thinks she can get a piece of what we have, she’ll say anything to get it.”

“Okay.”

“I mean anything.”

“I believe you.”

“So if she starts talking crazy this weekend, you have to promise me—promise me you won’t believe a word she says.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Bailey.”