Read Online Treasure Me by Christine Nolfi - Free Book Online

and beauty. All the memories she’d held dear had collapsed into the black hole of her mother’s death.
    With a heavy heart, she went inside.
    The housekeeper, Reenie, rose stiffly from the bottom step of the wide, curving staircase. Her white hair was knotted at the base of her skull. As she approached, Meade spotted new lines arcing from the corners of her eyes and an increasing droop to her mouth.
    “Thank God you’ve arrived!” The housekeeper clasped Meade’s fingers. “I can’t find your father. I’ve looked everywhere. He must be somewhere on the grounds.”
    “Did he wear his coat?” He’d grown increasingly forgetful. Depression was like an acid eating through his mind as surely as his health. “Oh Reenie, he’s not wandering outside in his pajamas, is he?”
    “Good heavens, I hope not.”
    Meade smoothed the fear from her brow. There was no sense in upsetting Reenie further. Increasing the housekeeper’s anxiety over her stubborn and unpredictable employer wouldn’t solve anything.
    “Go back to bed, Reenie.” She strode across the foyer and stepped inside the closet. Coats were everywhere, hung haphazardly or dumped on the floor. She found a pair of hiking boots, the soles crusted with mud. She put them on. “Did you check the boathouse?”
    “I didn’t see any lights.”
    “Which means he’s sitting in the dark.” She ushered the housekeeper toward the staircase. “Go on. I’ll find him.”
    At the back of the house the tiered patio floated in a sea of shadow. An owl hooted from the woods, its voice lonely and strong. The sound of the lake, a low rumble of waves beating against rock, grew in intensity as she started down the path. She’d once loved the open expanse of blue-green water and the rush of wind in her face as her mother drove the powerboat in undulating circles too close to shore, or away from land at ferocious speed to open water. Her father never went on the lake. He preferred a life sequestered in the library surrounded by financial ledgers and dog-eared copies of The Wall Street Journal . A banker by training, his days were spent shepherding the assets he’d gained through marriage and growing the legacies of Cat’s illustrious friends. Meade, their only child, was pampered and spoiled. She’d tried to emulate her mother’s grace and had been awed by her father’s prodigious intellect.
    Now the sight of the lake stabbed her with regret.
    She paused on the path to rub the chill from her arms. The darkened boathouse, nestled beneath fir trees at the water’s edge, was moored in silence. The cream paint was so faded the wooden slats shone through. A shutter on one of the windows hung ajar like a black flag.
    She entered with her breath locked inside her lungs. The oblong table in the center of the room was heaped with fishing poles and tackle. The organic scents of marine life clung to the air, and a host of memories accosted her. She shielded herself from the blow and quickly scanned the murky dark.
    The moment her eyes adjusted to the darkness she spotted her father perched beneath a window.
    “Dad?” His silvered head turned. Moonlight caught the side of his face, turning his fierce blue eyes a smoky grey. “What are you doing out here?”
    “Thinking.” He stared at her for a long moment as if needing to reboot his brain. His expression clearing, he asked, “Why are you here? Did we have an appointment?”
    “You called several hours ago. You were upset. Don’t you remember? Reenie called later when she couldn’t find you.”
    “Reenie doesn’t need to look after me. Why isn’t she asleep?”
    Knowing how to proceed was difficult. Through the grime on the window, the lake shimmered like a galaxy of stars. Meade looked away from it, praying for strength. Her father’s hair was pungent and unwashed. His pants were spotted with grease or food; it was hard to tell which, and she didn’t have the courage to turn on a light. Dampness pooled beneath his