Summer by the Tides Page 8

  “And how did you and Connor get on?”

  Maddy lifted a shoulder. “He hardly showed his face.”

  “So he was true to his word.”

  “He was.” Maddy would give him that. She took a sip of her coffee and watched a sea gull drift on a current. “And how about you and Nora? I didn’t see any blood on the floor when I came in last night.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “She’s so stubborn. I don’t know how she lives with herself. I mean, she’s the one who wronged me; you’d think she’d be at least a little remorseful.”

  Maddy tucked her hair behind her ear. Nora had been plenty remorseful back in the day. But Maddy wasn’t about to get in the middle of this again.

  “At least we got through a lot of boxes,” Emma continued. “We’re both eager to get this over and done with.”

  “And head on home?” Maddy studied her sister and thought she saw a flicker of something in her eyes.

  “Of course.”

  She wished Emma would confide in her about the pregnancy. It had to weigh heavily on her mind, and she sure wasn’t going to confide in Nora.

  “How’s Ethan holding up without you? He must be eager to have you back home.”

  “Sure. Of course. It’s hard to be away, but we have to put this house to rights.”

  Maybe Maddy should just admit to having found the test. But if Emma wanted to tell her she would. Maybe she wanted to tell Ethan first. She obviously wanted to keep it from them or she wouldn’t have buried the test in the trash.

  But as Maddy scanned the quiet strip of beach she suddenly realized she wanted to be closer to her sister. She remembered the days when she could tell Emma anything, when Emma had been like a second mother to her. Now they were both adults, and Maddy longed for the close relationship that Holly had with her sister, Noelle. Sisters were supposed to share secrets. Sisters spilled the beans about things like positive pregnancy tests.

  But she hadn’t exactly been close enough with either of her sisters to expect this kind of vulnerability from them. And if Maddy were honest with herself, she was reluctant to share her own secrets. The part of her that longed for intimacy knew that sharing things was a big part of that. But there was another part of her that knew secrets had the power to tear people apart.

  “We’re separated,” Emma murmured.

  “What?” Maddy’s eyes darted to her sister, unsure she’d heard right.

  Emma’s knitting needles clicked quietly. “For six months now.”

  “Emma . . . Why didn’t you say something?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to talk about it with Nora around.”

  “I mean a long time ago. We’ve talked on the phone. You didn’t say a word.” Maddy felt terrible that her sister had been suffering in silence. “I know we haven’t been very close in recent years, but I hope you know I’m here for you.”

  “I guess I just didn’t want to admit it.”

  She thought of the pregnancy test—it must be Nora’s after all. Good heavens, a pregnancy just when she’d finally reached the empty nest. They were all in the middle of life crises.

  Maddy touched Emma’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, sure. I suppose. He moved into an apartment across the city. I used to get so annoyed, coming home to all his noise. His mess. Now the place is so clean and empty I hate coming home at all. I stay at work until I’m ready to drop. I jumped at the chance to come here when I got the call about Gram. And George was all right with me leaving the bakery awhile—I’ve been such a mess.”

  Her heart hurt for Emma. “Is there . . . someone else?”

  Emma set down her knitting and lifted Pippy onto her lap. The dog curled up, snuggling against Emma’s stomach. “I don’t think so. He says there’s not, and I believe him. In some ways it would be easier if there were. But no. We just . . . grew apart, I guess. We keep different hours, with me working so early in the morning, and he’s been busy building a name for himself in real estate. We didn’t make time for each other, ran out of things to talk about, yada yada.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Pippy sat up in Emma’s lap, looking to her owner as if sensing her pain.

  Emma gave the dog a sad smile and stroked her neck, addressing the dog. “You’re a good girl. We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”

  “Are you trying to work things out? You’ve invested a lot of years in each other.”

  “Almost fifteen. Everything’s up in the air right now. He calls it a break.” Her fingers worked the needles nimbly. “It wasn’t my idea, this separation.”

  Maddy studied Emma’s face. “You still love him.”

  Emma paused her petting and looked at Maddy. Her eyes welled with tears as their gazes connected. “I do, Maddy. But you know what? I’ve only loved two men in my life—and they both left me. I don’t know if it’s worth the risk anymore.”

  Maddy’s heart ached for her sister. “I know what you mean, Emma. I really do.”

  Emma’s gaze sharpened on Maddy. “Are you and Nick having problems?”

  Maddy gave a rueful laugh. She supposed it was time to come clean. “Understatement of the century. Nick and I are over. He—betrayed my trust.”

  Emma gave her a sympathetic look. “Oh, Maddy. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks. Love just never came as easily to me as it does to you and Nora. And then something like this happens . . .”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Right before I came here. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was still reeling. And honestly, feeling like the only one of us who can’t seem to maintain a romantic relationship.”

  “Well, obviously that’s not the case.”

  “I guess things aren’t always what they appear,” Maddy said.

  She thought of divulging the part where she’d lost her job, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Her career had been the one thing in her life she was proud of—and now it was gone.

  “I guess not,” Emma said.

  * * *

  June twelfth was the hardest day of the year for Connor. When it rolled around he tried to stay busy, and so far he’d succeeded this year. He almost wished he were still working at the restaurant, because he wasn’t looking forward to going home to an empty house. But he didn’t exactly feel like company either.

  His sisters had been calling all day long. They’d offered to come over, offered to take him out. He’d turned them down, but that hadn’t stopped the calls. His best friend, Lamont, had also called, asking if he wanted to grab a pizza or shoot hoops. Connor finally turned off his phone.

  He tossed the rope line inside the speedboat and gave the departing couple a wave. “Have fun out there.”

  “Thanks, man.” The middle-aged guy expertly maneuvered the boat out of its slip and into the wake of a larger vessel.

  Connor gassed up a Crestliner and made small talk with the owner. He and his wife were from Florida, just retired, and enjoying their first summer off.

  He and Annie had been working toward that day. She was a planner, and though retirement was years away they’d talked about it often. She was a Florida girl, and Seahaven had never felt like home to her. It was too cool for her liking in the winter, and the water never got warm enough. She wanted to retire in the Keys where they could bathe in the sun until their skin wrinkled like raisins.

  And Connor wanted to please her so he worked crazy hours at the marina, saving money by hiring fewer hands. He became single-minded about planning for their future. It was good for the business and good for their bank account, but bad for their marriage. He’d only later realized his tunnel vision tendencies.

  His long hours made Annie feel neglected. They had many arguments about it, but he was so busy being right he dismissed her feelings. She was shortsighted, he told himself. He was looking out for the long term, couldn’t she see that?

  He swallowed hard against the knot forming in his throat. Why could he see
so clearly now what he’d been blind to then? She’d needed his time. She’d needed him.

  She’d also wanted a baby—and he’d failed to give her that too. It’s not that he was opposed to the idea of children. He just thought there was plenty of time for that, and he discounted her feelings. The reminder was a punch in the solar plexus.

  “You all right, boss?” one of his hands asked as Connor made his way up the pier.

  “Fine.” He managed a plastic smile and headed inside.

  The familiar smells of new carpet and robust coffee failed to comfort him. He ducked into his tiny office and walked over to the window, shelving his hands on his hips. His breath felt stuffed inside lungs too small to hold it.

  It didn’t seem possible he’d been without her for three years. He should be all right by now. Everyone thought so, even if they didn’t say it out loud. He knew he should be looking for another woman to fill the empty space in his heart, but he couldn’t even bring himself to date.

  It seemed as if he’d just been treading water since he’d lost her. Working. Marking time. If he could have her back he’d buy her that house in the Keys right now. He’d make her the mother she’d wanted to be instead of telling her to be patient. His eyes stung as guilt swamped him.

  * * *

  Connor had said to ring him if she needed anything, but Maddy couldn’t seem to get hold of him this afternoon. She left the Landing’s restroom, grateful for a breath of fresh air. She wasn’t above the dirty job of stopped-up toilets—they happened when you served the public—but this particular job went way beyond a plunger.

  She scoured her hands in the women’s restroom, then let Amber know she was headed out for a few minutes. She had to get this figured out before the dinner rush.

  As she walked toward the marina, the sun beat down from a clear blue sky, making sweat bead on the back of her neck. She didn’t see Connor, but when she asked an employee he sent her inside.

  The waft of cool air was welcome as she slipped through the door. The lobby was small, painted dove gray with white trim, and contained a few padded chairs and a high counter that featured an empty workstation and a dying geranium. Judging by the blisters on the stem and lack of blooms it was suffering from edema. She resisted the urge to move the plant to a sunny windowsill.

  To one side of the desk was a short hall with two bathrooms and a drinking fountain. To the other side was a door labeled Office. It was open by several inches. She moved that way and peeked inside.

  A desk took up most of the space. On top of it were numerous stacks of files and papers, a pencil holder, photos, boating magazines, and a laptop. Though the office appeared cluttered, it was organized chaos, and she suspected Connor could probably find anything at a moment’s notice.

  Her eyes drifted to Connor, who was facing the picture window that overlooked part of the marina. His head was bowed as if in prayer or distress, and she got the distinct feeling she was interrupting something.

  As she shifted, the floor squeaked under her feet.

  Connor turned.

  Silhouetted by the light from the window, she couldn’t see his expression. But the feeling that she’d come at a bad time persisted. “Sorry to bother you.”

  He cleared his throat and came around the desk. “No, come on in. Is everything okay at the restaurant?”

  “More or less. I do have an issue I could use some help with, though.” As he came closer she noted the vacant look in his eyes, the tightness around his mouth.

  He cleared his expression with a benign smile and perched on the edge of the desk. “What can I do for you, Maddy?”

  “I was wondering if you have a plumber you regularly use? The men’s restroom . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s a . . . situation.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I tried to plunge it, but it’s pretty hopeless. I’d like to have it in working order as soon as possible, obviously.”

  “Say no more.” He was already searching through his phone contacts. “I have a guy who’s pretty quick. Let me give him a call.”

  Maddy pulled out her phone. “If you give me the number I don’t mind doing it.”

  He spared her a smile as he tapped the phone and held it to his ear. “He’ll respond more quickly if I call . . . Hey, Darren, it’s Connor Sullivan. How you doing?”

  Maddy waited as he made small talk with a guy he’d apparently known awhile. When he got to the point she could tell from his end the plumber was coming right out.

  Connor ended the conversation and pocketed his phone, then confirmed it with her.

  “How’s everything else going? The staff treating you all right? Any other problems I can help with?”

  “The staff is great. A little younger than I’m accustomed to, but pretty competent nonetheless.” She caught him up on the changes she’d made—promoting the line chef to sous chef and making Amber a shift leader.

  “The cashier, huh? That didn’t even occur to me. She’s awfully young, isn’t she?”

  “She is, but she’s quite capable, and she’s a fast learner. She’s also been there for two years.”

  He made a face. “I should’ve known that.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, she’s not ready to step into a managerial position just yet, but as a leader in training, she’ll do just fine. The others like and respect her.”

  “Great. Glad to hear it. I, uh, have some time tonight if you need any help with the dinner shift.”

  She wondered if the brunette—or the blonde—had left him at loose ends. Then she remembered his defeated posture when she’d walked in, and was filled with mixed feelings. Who exactly was Connor Sullivan?

  “The shift’s covered, but thanks.”

  “Are you sure? I can bus a table with the best of them.”

  Maybe he just wanted to check up on her. See if she was running things to his liking. She couldn’t help bristling a bit. “I’m sure. We’re fully staffed tonight.”

  A shadow moved over his face, and something in his gray eyes pulled at her. “Great, great. So it’s working out all right? You think you’ll stick around a little while?”

  “I don’t see why not. You’re keeping your end of the deal. But you’ll continue to look for someone . . . ?”

  “Absolutely. The ad’s still posted. I really appreciate your stepping in last minute.”

  “No problem. I enjoy the work.” She moved toward the door. “Well, listen, I should get back.”

  “Darren will be there within the hour. He’ll get you fixed right up.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a parting smile that wasn’t as confident as it probably looked. Then she left the building and headed back up the boardwalk.

  She couldn’t figure out the man. As soon as she decided he was one way she saw something that made her question herself. Then again, after what had happened with Nick, was it any wonder she didn’t trust her instincts?

  She was thrown once again an hour later. She’d run back to the house to change her clothes before the dinner rush. As she was leaving the house someone was emerging from a white crossover in Connor’s driveway. The brunette from the dock. She bent her upper body into the back seat and emerged with a Crock-Pot.

  Maddy rolled her eyes. Apparently Connor had found something to do tonight after all.

  Chapter 13

  “Crab cakes on the fly!” Maddy called through the kitchen window.

  A server had dropped a platter, leaving table five unfed and waiting. Maddy went to the table, assured them their meals were on the house, and went out to the deck to help the busboy with the recently vacated tables.

  It was just into the dinner hour, and she was beginning to hit her stride. The staff was adjusting to her leadership, and she was feeling confident about the workings of the restaurant. She was beginning to enjoy the casual vibe with the country music and loud chatter.

  On this Wednesday evening it was only a half-full house, leaving her plenty of time to pitch in. She wiped down the neares
t wooden table, vaguely aware of two women who’d been seated at table seventeen. The server had been sent on break.

  Rather than pass the table to another server, she grabbed menus and approached the table. “Hi, welcome to the Landing.” Her eyes connected with one of the women and her smile faltered.

  It was the brunette she’d seen with Connor on the pier and again at his house yesterday with the Crock-Pot. Maddy’s eyes went to the other woman, who was also familiar. The blonde. Ms. Yoga Pants.

  At the same table. Together. Looking at her with curious eyes.

  Maddy shored up her smile. “Um . . . Can I get you something to drink?”

  “We’ll just have water,” Crock-Pot said.

  Maddy dashed off to fetch their drinks. What in the world? Why were they here together? She had to be missing something.

  A minute later Maddy delivered the water. “Have you decided what you’d like, or do you need a few more minutes?”

  “So you’re Maddy . . . ,” Yoga Pants said.

  Maddy eyed the woman. “Yes . . .”

  Crock-Pot tucked her short hair behind her ears. “We’re Connor’s sisters.” She began introductions.

  His sisters?

  One of them laughed, and Maddy realized she’d missed both their names.

  “We’ve caught her off guard. He told us you rescued him from certain death.”

  “He’s helpless when it comes to this place—I should know. I’m afraid it’s my fault he got stuck with it.”

  Crock-Pot nodded toward Yoga Pants. “Lexie talked him into buying the restaurant a couple years ago. Then she bailed on him.”

  “I decided to further my education!” Lexie defended herself, clearly not for the first time.

  “You seem to know your way around a kitchen,” Crock-Pot said.

  Maddy blinked. “I’m sorry, I missed your name.”

  “Tara. I’m the older of us girls.”

  Now that she was up close Maddy could see the resemblance to Connor. She had those brackets at the corners of her mouth when she smiled.

  Lexie shared Connor’s golden hair and gray eyes.

  “There’s a ten-year gap between Connor and me,” Tara said. “He was so much trouble—or so we tell him—our parents waited ten years to try again.”