The Things We Knew (25 page)

“No.” She put her book down and stood. “He's not in his room?”

“Nope. Nowhere upstairs.” Nick marched to the front door, flung it open, and confirmed his suspicions. “He took my Jeep.”

“Lord, have mercy.” Cecily stared out into the dark night. “How?”

“I left the keys in it.” Gray always ragged him about the bad habit. Tonight it had worked in his favor.

“Where would he have gone?”

“I have a pretty good idea.” He hoped he was wrong, but he probably wasn't.

“Not to see Victoria?” Cecily's eyes widened and she looked even more concerned.

“No. I don't think so. I think he went to see another friend.” Nick wished he could calm her down, but nothing he said would help. “Can I borrow your car?”

H
eads up, Lynnie.” Jed stuck his head around the kitchen door. “Your brother just walked in.”

“What?” Lynette whirled from her position at the grill, spatula in hand. “Which one?”

“Gray.”

“No.” Bacon sizzled on the wide griddle in front of her. She turned down the heat and stepped forward. Gray was here. In a bar.

Jed eyed her carefully, waiting. “You wanna go talk to him?”

“I can't.” She turned back to the burgers and flipped them one by one. Put the crispy strips of bacon onto a plate. Dumped a pile of chopped onions and mushrooms onto the blackened grill and watched them sizzle. “Don't serve him, Jed.”

His whispered curse floated around the noisy kitchen. “I don't have a reason not to, hon. Sorry. If you're that concerned, get on out there and send him home.”

Lynette bit her lip. Fumes from the onions stung her eyes, but they were watering anyway. “I don't want him to know I work here.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Please, Jed. Don't say anything.”

“You are one weird chick. You know that, right?”

“Hagerman, you in there? You want me to help myself or what?” Gray's bellow sailed through from the bar and Lynette jerked her head toward the door.

“Go. And keep your mouth shut!”

Lynette finished the burgers and slid them across the counter to Lila. She peeked through the opening of the window and tried to get a glimpse of her brother.

Jed's big head was in the way. Her heart started a slow rumba. If she went out there and confronted Gray, he'd make her quit. And the money she was making enabled her to keep up her stock of art supplies. Her paintings were selling. She couldn't quit now.

“Please don't drink,” she whispered. “Please, God, don't let him drink.”

Gray glared at the two drinks on the counter. The tall mug of beer was losing its froth. The whiskey chaser sat beside it, mocking, daring him to get it over with.

Jed's eyes were on him again, burning a hole through his conscience. He was using the old stare-at-'em-till-the-guilt-kicks-in technique. But if he didn't stop soon, Gray was going to ram a fist into his face.

A group of kids, high schoolers from the looks of it, sat at a nearby table. They were staring at him too. If the place hadn't been practically pitch-dark already, Gray would have put on his shades.

Soon, a couple of the girls hovered near his stool. “Excuse me?”

Gray sighed inwardly, found his signature smile, and swiveled to face them.

“Omigosh! It is!” They squealed, did a little jig, looked at each other through wide eyes, and then looked back at him. “It is you, right? Gray Carlisle?”

“In the flesh.”

Jed snorted and Gray pitched him a glare when the girls went fishing in their purses. Between the two of them, they came up with paper and a pen and managed to ask for his autograph between giggles.

“I just love your last song,” one of them gushed. “You know, the one that came out before you OD'd and went to rehab.”

Gray scribbled his name, handed back the paper, and felt his gut twist. “That OD thing was a rumor.”

“Oh.” They rolled their eyes simultaneously and he wondered if they'd practiced that. “Well. You should write a new song. They keep playing that old one, over and over and—”

“It's in the Top 40, stupid!” her friend chimed in.

Gray's spine tingled and he sat a little straighter. “Top 40?”

“Well, duh.” More eye rolling. “So, are you writing new stuff?”

Gray smiled again and watched them practically melt into pink little puddles of Juicy Couture. “Ladies, not only am I going to write a new song, I'm going to write a whole album. And I'm going to dedicate the first track to you. What are your names?”

“Omigosh! I'm Jessica.” Girl number one almost passed out. Her friend poked her in the ribs, clearly far more mature.

“And I'm Ashley.”

Gray's laughter caused another round of giggles. Then he put on the sternest expression he could manage and nodded toward Jed. “It was nice to meet you, girls. Now, if you and your friends over there are smart, you'll call it a night before Jed here decides to card you. He's got Nantucket PD on speed dial.”

After the doors slammed behind the group, Jed dissolved into side-splitting laughter.

“Dang, you're a piece of work, Carlisle.” Jed mopped down the top of the bar.

“That's what I hear.” Gray poked a finger into the vanishing foam in his beer and stuck it in his mouth. The taste was bitter on his tongue. He waited for the familiar desire to snake around him and force him into downing the whole thing.

It didn't come.

A small fire of excitement lit. Top 40. They were still playing his stuff. Which meant he wasn't quite floating facedown in the
water. Which meant he'd still be getting royalties. Which meant a chance to start over.

Maybe.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched a number. He couldn't wait to tell Tori. But then he remembered. His eyes smarted at his knee-jerk reaction, and he canceled the call.

The bar doors banged open, letting in a whistle of wind, a blast of salty air, and Nick.

“Oh, goody. The cavalry has arrived.” Gray tried out an eye roll of his own.

Nick hopped onto the stool next to his. He saw the evidence and set a steely gaze on Jed. “You served him?”

“Hey, man.” Jed held up both hands with a look of chagrin. “This is a bar, not a freakin' AA meeting. He's age of majority.”

“Not that it would have stopped you if I wasn't.” Gray ducked as Jed's dish towel snapped perilously close to his face.

Nick checked him out, squinting his eyes. “How much have you had?”

Gray sighed and wished he hadn't decided to quit smoking at this particular time in his life. “You don't look like my father.”

“Relax, Cooper, he's not drinking them,” Jed growled. “He's playing with them.”

“What?”

Coop looked so confused that Gray couldn't help laughing. He pushed the two offending objects toward Jed. “Toss 'em. I'll have a Coke, please.”

“Make it two,” Nick added.

“And I could use a burger. I skipped dinner.”

“I'll have some fries.” Nick jogged Gray's arm with his elbow. “You took my Jeep, you jerk.”

“Told you not to leave the keys in it. Serves you right.” Gray coughed and jumped off the stool. “How'd you get here?”

“Borrowed Cecily's car.” Nick took out his phone and called
the house to let her know he'd found Gray. Gray noted Nick didn't tell Cecily where.

They slid into a booth and gave Jed a hard time while he worked.

About ten minutes later a bell dinged from inside the kitchen and Jed returned with the food. Gray couldn't remember ever being served so quickly in here.

“Glad I found you.” Nick bit into a fry. “I sure didn't feel like driving to Jersey tonight.”

Gray rubbed his face and let out a breath. “That wasn't one of my options.” Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. And he wanted those drinks back.

“Eat something.” Nick pushed his plate back toward him. “You look like you just got sprung from Alcatraz.”

“Thanks. You're as cheerful as a Hallmark card.” But he bit into his burger anyway. Once the food hit his stomach, he started feeling a little better. “Hey, did you see those kids before you came in?”

“Those kids who shouldn't have been in here, yeah.” He glanced at Jed. “What about them?” Nick chugged his Coke and twirled a fry in a mound of ketchup.

“They said my stuff's playing on the radio.”

Nick chewed. “I heard you this morning. Twice. My secretary is nuts over you, by the way. If you ever feel like stopping into the bank and giving her a heart attack, I'd appreciate it.”

“You do have a way with the ladies, Coop.” Gray sat back, letting his stomach rest a moment. “I didn't know. I mean . . . I thought with rehab and all . . .”

Nick shrugged and continued to inhale his basket of fries. “You're still the hometown boy, Gray. So you screwed up. Happens all the time. People get over it.”

“You think I could have another chance at this gig?”

Nick sat back, seemed to mull the question over. “I think the only one around here who doesn't believe that is you.”

“Well, if it's true, if I start earning money again . . . Lynnie's idea might just be doable.” He grinned at the thought of telling her.

Nick rolled his eyes. “You're that good, huh?”

“I'm amazing.” Gray puffed out his chest, then dropped his smile. “You won't tell Lynnie you found me here, right?”

“Nah.” Nick sat in silence for a long moment that inched into awkward. “I think you should tell the family, you know, about Tori and . . . your daughter.”

He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. I know. I just . . . I don't know what to say. It's not like I'm ever going to be part of Tess's life.”

“Why not?”

Gray scowled, rolled up a sleeve, and displayed the history written on his arms. “Take a wild guess.” Nick blanched, but didn't look away.

“People change, Gray. You can get through this. You're already well on your way.”

“Yeah.” He held his thumb and forefinger together so they were almost touching. “Coming this close to smashing a whiskey chaser down my throat means I'm about ready to babysit.”

Nick shrugged. “You're going to have bad days. You might even take that drink one day, but that doesn't mean you're a failure. Or that you shouldn't keep trying. Aren't they worth that to you?”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Gray slammed his head against the wooden bench and flinched. “Even if I was ready, it's too late. Tori and I are done.”

“Don't bet on it.” Nick angled his head the way he did when his brain was working overtime. “She's put up with you this long. That tells me she's either completely certifiable or she's in love with you.”

“Can't be one without the other.” Gray picked sesame seeds off what was left of his bun. Warmth ignited that fire of hope again. Maybe one of these days he'd let it burn.

“What're you doing tomorrow?” Nick wore that look that usually meant trouble.

“Thought I'd go for a facial at the spa. Why?”

“Want you to come sailing. You look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Gray erupted into laughter. “Are you kidding me, Cooper? I haven't been on a boat in years.”

“Just like riding a bike, Gray.”

“You're actually not kidding.” Gray fished his straw out of his empty glass and aimed it at Nick's chest. “Well, I guess drowning might be better than OD'ing my way out of here. Okay. But hey, do something for me too.”

“What's that?”

Gray sat back and allowed a smile. “I'm going to work on a new album. And I want you to write it with me.”

N
ick and Gray had stayed for two hours, eating, talking, and being thoroughly annoying. What was worse, they were too far away for her to hear any of their conversation. Lynette had begged Jed to kick them out, but he took perverse pleasure in her torture. She'd tried to flee through the back door, but the lock was still jammed. Jed needed to fix that before the fire marshal's inspection. By the time they got up to leave, the kitchen was spotless.

Jed opened his mouth, but Lynette shut him down with one look. She picked up a tray and went to clear Gray and Nick's table. She saw the cell phone sitting on the table at the same time that Nick strode through the doors.

“Jed, I forgot my—” He stopped midstride and stared.

Lynette had nowhere to run. No story would explain why she stood there wearing a white apron, carrying a serving tray. She put down the tray and reached for the phone.

“Looking for this?”

“Yeah.” He blinked a couple times, ran a hand over his head, looked at her and Jed, but didn't move. “What's going on?”

“Closing time.” Jed was trying to help, but the annoyance simmering in Nick's eyes said that wasn't the answer he wanted.

She put his phone down on the table, picked up plates and
glasses, and set them on the tray. Shifted her hand under it, pushed up, and headed for the kitchen.

Then Nick moved. Like he'd suddenly remembered how to run track.

“Don't go anywhere, Lynette.” He pulled the tray from her hands and shook his head. “Are you seriously working here?”

“Don't know about seriously, but she's working here, yep.” Jed let out the belly laugh Lynette had grown surprisingly fond of, but tonight it didn't work its charm.

“Nick. Just take your phone and leave. And please don't tell Gray.”

“This is insane,” Nick muttered, looking like he'd been hit in the head with the boom. “Are you trying to put yourself back in the hospital?”

“An honest day's work never killed anybody.”

“In this place?” His voice jumped a couple of notches.

“It's fine. Quit yelling.” She tried to push past him but he wasn't budging.

“You can't work here. This is a—”

Jed's cough rumbled around them. “A very fine establishment that any law-abiding citizen should be honored to find employment in. Especially given the current economic conditions of the country.”

“Hagerman . . .”

“All right. I get it.” Jed headed in the direction of the kitchen. “Lynnie, may I just remind you that you are loved and appreciated. I'll up your salary by a dollar but that's as high as I can go.”

“Thanks, Jed.” She sent him a grin, then glared at Nick. “Are you done?”

“No, but you are.” He set the tray down on a nearby table. “
This
is your babysitting job? You've been lying to everyone so you can come work in a bar?” His eyes blazed under the flickering overhead light. “The money can't be that good.”

“No. I've been babysitting too. It all helps, Nick.” She pulled at
her ponytail and stared at a puddle on the floor. Hopefully it was just water. “And you're not in a position to talk about lying.”

“What?” He looked incredulous. Mortally wounded. “You're seriously going to throw that in my face?”

“Oh, stop overreacting.” She moved past him and returned to clearing the table. “Look, David's out of work. Liz gives all her money to that wacko boyfriend to invest for her, and Gray—”

“Gray is about to get severely ticked off.” Her brother stood in the doorway, mirroring the I-don't-believe-this look Nick wore a few minutes ago. “Please tell me I'm hallucinating.”

“Thought you were in the car,” Nick said.

Gray rubbed a hand over his face. “Lynette, what? What am I seeing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorted before she could stop herself.

Her brother flushed but crossed his arms. “I didn't have anything.”

“I know. Jed told me.”

Gray scowled. “So what are you doing in here, wearing that?”

“Working, obviously. And we're closed. So leave. Both of you.” She picked up the tray and tried to duck past them but was intercepted by two pairs of blue eyes shooting blazing arrows at her.

Gray took the tray from her and slammed it down on top of the bar. A glass rolled off and hit the floor and shattered. Jed yelled from somewhere in back.

“Gray! Seriously?” Lynette pulled at her apron, wound her hands together to keep them from making contact with his face. “Please. Could you both get out and leave me alone?”

“Nope. You don't need this job.” Gray took two steps around her and undid the top of her apron, pulled it off her, and tossed it to Nick. “Go get your stuff.”

Lynette stormed through the house and out to the garden with the dogs. She marched across the damp lawn, took deep breaths, prayed, and tried to quell her anger. Eventually she walked back up to the patio. Took a puff of Ventolin and waited for her breathing to slow. She was still too angry to sit. She paced up and down, stopping when Nick stepped outside.

“I don't want to talk to you.” She put her back to him and walked onto the lawn again. The dark sky was clear, about a million stars out. Normally she would have appreciated the beauty of the evening, but tonight her thoughts ran wild.

“Cecily says she'll see you tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“Why did you take that job?” Nick came up behind her. “You can't carry all this on your own. It's time you stopped trying.”

Lynette whirled to face him. “For once, Nicholas, mind your own business!” She stomped past him and went back up the stairs.

“Lynnie, wait.” He grabbed her wrist and made her look at him. “What's going on here? Talk to me.”

Lynette sat on the low wall of the patio. Finally she tried to put her jumbled thoughts into words. “You and Gray had no right to march in there and make demands like that! Thinking you can make me quit. Taking on that job was my decision. And when I quit, that will be my decision too. Not yours.”

Nick sat beside her, a safe enough distance away. He stayed quiet a minute, then scrubbed a hand down his face. “Can I say something?”

“I'm sure you can. And will.” She pulled her arms tight across her chest and refused to look at him. His low chuckle weakened her resolve to stay mad and she snuck a glance at him. Nick smiled and tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear.

“I'm sorry. We acted like idiots.”

“You think?”

“Look, I know you're worried about the house, about your dad, but I'm worried about you.” He moved a little closer until he sat right next to her. “We all are.”

“I'm fine.”

Nick sighed, placed two fingers beneath her chin, and forced her to meet his gaze. “Are you? When's the last time you got a full night's sleep?”

“I don't know.” Unwanted tears burned and she blinked them away. “Why is it so wrong for me to want to help?”

“It's not wrong.” His smile set her pulse racing again. “But you're doing too much. The money will be there for the renovations, Lynnie. You don't need that job. Didn't you hear anything Gray said? He told me he talked to you on the way home.”

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and ran her fingers through it. Maybe she would quit. Part of her would be glad to never smell a French fry again. “He doesn't know for sure if he'll get that money. And what if your investor friend decides they're not interested? What if we don't get the building permit? What if—”

Nick put an arm around her shoulders. “What if you stop thinking the worst and have a little faith? Isn't that what you keep telling the rest of us?”

She gave up and rested her head against him, her anger finally dissipating. Exhaustion hit hard. “I just get scared sometimes. The house, my dad . . . We're looking at long-term health care down the road. Where's money for that going to come from?”

“You guys took him to the doctor's today, right? How'd that go?”

Lynette sat up and pressed her palms against her knees. It was what they were all expecting, but it terrified her just the same. “It's definitely Alzheimer's.” The awful word prodded her and made the future more frightening.

“Oh, Lynnie.” Nick pulled her close again. “I'm sorry.”

Tears left trails on her cheeks. “I was still hoping he'd say it was just old age.”

“So what's the plan?”

“The others think we should carry on. See if we can do the B&B thing. We'll manage Dad here as long as we can, but—” She sighed and swiped at her cheeks. “He'll have to go into a nursing home eventually.”

Nick smoothed down her hair and rested his head against hers. “How are you really doing?”

“Trying not to fall apart, I guess.” She ran a finger over the strap of his watch “It's horrible, seeing him change. All those wonderful memories, everything he knew . . . just disappearing. I can't sleep thinking about it. And when I do sleep, those dreams won't leave me alone.”

Nick swiveled to look at her. “You're still having them?”

She stared at his earnest expression through the darkness. Nick was the only one she'd trust with this. Yet somehow the right words wouldn't come. “I don't know what to think. I kept hoping they'd go away. That they didn't mean anything.”

“What do you think they mean?”

She shrugged. It was silly really, believing her mother was trying to tell her something from beyond the grave. But God could be. “Sometimes I wonder if they're not dreams at all, but things I know. The things I can't remember.”

The wind moved across the patio and played a tune on the chimes. Crickets caught the rhythm and sent their song into the night. Lynette tried to enjoy the peaceful sounds of summer, but her mind would not still.

Nick rubbed her arm as she gave a shiver. “Maybe you should see someone, you know? Talk to a professional about what you're going through?”

“Like a shrink?” She laughed, pushing hair out of her eyes. “You think I'm nuts?” Not that she could blame him. Lately she'd been thinking the same.

“No. I didn't say that.” His eyes softened and he leaned back
again, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. “But sometimes it helps to talk things out.”

“Maybe.” She wound her fingers through his. “I thought if I could remember that day, things would make sense. But now, I'm not so sure I want to know. Does that sound weird?”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I won't say I know what you're going through, but I do know what it's like living with hard memories. Memories you can't shake, no matter how much you want to get rid of them.”

Something in his tone made her sit up. “What are you talking about?”

Nick stood and began to pace, hands thrust into his pockets. “There's something that happened . . . something I want you to know.” He positioned himself across from her, his serious expression shadowed by the soft glow of the hanging light above them. “When I was at Princeton, I was involved in an incident. It's haunted me for a long time.”

“Okay.” Lynette couldn't imagine what he was going to say, but the pain that marred his face almost made her wish he wouldn't tell her.

Nick took a breath. “It happened the year Gray and I fought, after the Christmas break. The swim team—we were all together at a party—some of the guys got pretty drunk.” He looked at his shoes. “I was looking for the bathroom, heard some noise in one of the bedrooms, some yelling, a girl screaming, so I went to see what was going on. There were about four guys, and they were forcing her . . . forcing themselves on her. She was trying to fight them off, but the party was pretty crazy . . . nobody would have heard. I didn't know what to do; I just stood there.” He let his breath out in a rush. “I don't think I really believed what I was seeing. I tried to stop it, but one of the guys lit into me, threw me back into the hall, and slammed the door. By the time I was able to call the police, it was too late.”

Lynette wrapped her arms around him. “That's awful. What happened?”

“She was in bad shape. The guys said I was involved, and it was my word against theirs. We were all brought up on charges. My father went ballistic. I swore to him I had nothing to do with it. Eventually the girl told the cops I had no part in it. My name was cleared, but my reputation was tied up with the rest of the scumbags. My dad convinced me to transfer to Oxford, spend some time over in England, start fresh. So I left. But the guilt of that night has stayed with me.”

Lynette drew back and shook her head. “It wasn't your fault, Nick. Don't carry that guilt anymore. It doesn't belong to you.”

“Lynnie.” Nick rested his forehead against hers and sighed. It was the saddest sound she'd ever heard. “I've tried to let it go. I know I had nothing to do with it, but I should have been able to stop it. In some ways I felt like I committed the crime myself. And my father . . . I don't know. I knew he never quite believed me.”