Aunt Jan, but letting Shannon know has brought her back into my life. She’s the spot of happiness that I need.
*
“Have you talked to Merrick yet?” Mom asks. She’s either your biggest fan, or can sense that something is going on.
“Not yet.”
We’re lying in a row, me in the center of her and Jan, on massage tables on our stomachs covered in towels. The woman working the knots out of my shoulders has to be magic, because nothing has ever felt this good.
I take that back. Every time you touch me feels better than this, but as far as anyone else touching me—she’s magic.
“Well,” Mom continues, “be sure to call him after we’re done here and thank him.”
I glance over at Aunt Jan and roll my eyes. She makes a face. “I will, Mom.”
“My future son-in-law is such a gentleman.”
My eyes have to match Aunt Jan’s, which are the size of dinner plates. “Mom! Slow down. We’re not talking about marriage.”
Mom smiles at me while the woman working on her back karate chops her shoulder blades. “Honey, things are obviously headed that direction. You should’ve heard him when he called. He’s so concerned about your well-being, wanted to make sure you were relaxing and being pampered this week. It’s clear to me how much he loves you.”
Ugh. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I know you love me, but can we work things out? Can we talk to each other and find a way to get past this wall standing between us?
I can’t deny thinking about Ingrid in the past eighteen hours and going a little stir-crazy wanting to get back to the Weston Plantation to figure out how to get her to Turtle Tear.
I also can’t deny that being home in Cleveland and thinking about a ghost trying to get to an island seems crazy. Maybe I have cracked and the bricks were a delusion.
No.
It wasn’t all my imagination. Joan saw the writing on the window, and Joan’s the last person on Earth who would ever agree with me on anything. I saw how afraid she was. Ingrid’s really there.
I also can’t stop wondering how the last day of the anniversary party is going. The happy couple is staying for the week, but all of their relatives depart today. I’m so guilty for leaving everything to Maddie. But I’m not here by choice. You should be the one feeling guilty about me not being there to help.
“You have been working hard this year,” Aunt Jan says. “Renovating the hotel and now starting to host events. I’m sure it’s nice getting a break.”
“Whose side are you on?” I mutter.
“What?” she asks.
“This is a nice break.”
She gives me
the eye
. She’s on to me.
By two o’clock, I’ve been massaged to jelly, seaweed wrapped, and skin buffed to a pink shine, and I’m starving. Mom, Aunt Jan, and I just sit down to oversized grilled chicken salads, mine drowning in ranch dressing, when my phone rings with your ringtone.
I hesitate, but Mom and Aunt Jan are sitting right beside me, so I have to answer. “Hi,” I say. It sounds stiff and short, but it’s all I can get out.
“Hi. How was the spa?”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
I hate the silent pause that follows, like we don’t know what to say to each other.
“How are things there?” I ask.
“Good. The guests are at the pool for one last swim before we’re off for the mainland.”
I scoot out of the booth, smiling at Mom and Aunt Jan. I can’t sit there and have every word scrutinized. “Well, congratulations,” I say, weaving through tables toward the door. “Your event sounds like it was a success.” Even I can hear the sarcasm dripping from my words.
“Rachael. This wasn’t my event. You did this. You and Maddie. I—”
“—made me leave. You made me leave, so congrats. I’m glad it worked out well.”
“Jesus. I don’t want you mad at me. That’s not what this is about. I just want you back, like you were before. When you didn’t feel like you had to run away and make up excuses. When you told me things.
*
“Have you talked to Merrick yet?” Mom asks. She’s either your biggest fan, or can sense that something is going on.
“Not yet.”
We’re lying in a row, me in the center of her and Jan, on massage tables on our stomachs covered in towels. The woman working the knots out of my shoulders has to be magic, because nothing has ever felt this good.
I take that back. Every time you touch me feels better than this, but as far as anyone else touching me—she’s magic.
“Well,” Mom continues, “be sure to call him after we’re done here and thank him.”
I glance over at Aunt Jan and roll my eyes. She makes a face. “I will, Mom.”
“My future son-in-law is such a gentleman.”
My eyes have to match Aunt Jan’s, which are the size of dinner plates. “Mom! Slow down. We’re not talking about marriage.”
Mom smiles at me while the woman working on her back karate chops her shoulder blades. “Honey, things are obviously headed that direction. You should’ve heard him when he called. He’s so concerned about your well-being, wanted to make sure you were relaxing and being pampered this week. It’s clear to me how much he loves you.”
Ugh. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I know you love me, but can we work things out? Can we talk to each other and find a way to get past this wall standing between us?
I can’t deny thinking about Ingrid in the past eighteen hours and going a little stir-crazy wanting to get back to the Weston Plantation to figure out how to get her to Turtle Tear.
I also can’t deny that being home in Cleveland and thinking about a ghost trying to get to an island seems crazy. Maybe I have cracked and the bricks were a delusion.
No.
It wasn’t all my imagination. Joan saw the writing on the window, and Joan’s the last person on Earth who would ever agree with me on anything. I saw how afraid she was. Ingrid’s really there.
I also can’t stop wondering how the last day of the anniversary party is going. The happy couple is staying for the week, but all of their relatives depart today. I’m so guilty for leaving everything to Maddie. But I’m not here by choice. You should be the one feeling guilty about me not being there to help.
“You have been working hard this year,” Aunt Jan says. “Renovating the hotel and now starting to host events. I’m sure it’s nice getting a break.”
“Whose side are you on?” I mutter.
“What?” she asks.
“This is a nice break.”
She gives me
the eye
. She’s on to me.
By two o’clock, I’ve been massaged to jelly, seaweed wrapped, and skin buffed to a pink shine, and I’m starving. Mom, Aunt Jan, and I just sit down to oversized grilled chicken salads, mine drowning in ranch dressing, when my phone rings with your ringtone.
I hesitate, but Mom and Aunt Jan are sitting right beside me, so I have to answer. “Hi,” I say. It sounds stiff and short, but it’s all I can get out.
“Hi. How was the spa?”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
I hate the silent pause that follows, like we don’t know what to say to each other.
“How are things there?” I ask.
“Good. The guests are at the pool for one last swim before we’re off for the mainland.”
I scoot out of the booth, smiling at Mom and Aunt Jan. I can’t sit there and have every word scrutinized. “Well, congratulations,” I say, weaving through tables toward the door. “Your event sounds like it was a success.” Even I can hear the sarcasm dripping from my words.
“Rachael. This wasn’t my event. You did this. You and Maddie. I—”
“—made me leave. You made me leave, so congrats. I’m glad it worked out well.”
“Jesus. I don’t want you mad at me. That’s not what this is about. I just want you back, like you were before. When you didn’t feel like you had to run away and make up excuses. When you told me things.
Similar Books
