Never Forgotten (Never Forgotten Series) (3 page)

Shaking my head at my own fancifulness, I rolled onto my side. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand told me it was only four, way too early to get up. But as I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, an image of a beautiful, barefoot man played in my mind and kept me awake.

Was it really David? And if so, was he here?

I woke to the smell of coffee, cinnamon, and vanilla. My stomach growled in anticipation. What time was it? The last thing I remembered was tossing and turning. I sat up and looked out the window. The sky was clear, and the view unobstructed. The ocean looked wild, blue, and inviting this morning, the rocky beach deserted.

Just a dream, I told myself again. I stretched slow and deep. The bed was extremely comfortable. Overall, I loved my new room. Yeah, it sucked that I had to leave my friends, but it could be worse, a lot worse.

I picked up my phone and checked the time—8:05am. While I had it in my hand, I sent a quick text to Kim, letting her know we arrived. I could tell her the details later.

Throwing on jeans, my favorite t-shirt, and sandals, I headed to the kitchen. My mom and Grandma Mary were talking softly. Mom was updating her on the latest round of tests. Although I knew I shouldn’t, I stopped out of sight a few feet away from the kitchen and listened. It didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t hearing anything I hadn’t heard before. Still, why did Mom talk so freely to Grandma Mary when it took me the last three weeks to wring the information out of her? The answer was obvious. My mom saw me as a child. Sighing, I walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Grandma Mary called cheerfully. She faced the hallway, leaning on the counter by the stove. She looked worried. Mom stopped talking.

“Please continue,” I said, sitting down next to my mom and gesturing to them both. “Don’t stop on account of me.”

“It’s all right,” Mom said. “I’ve pretty much caught her up on everything.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Grandma Mary asked as she rummaged in the refrigerator. She brought out bacon and orange juice. When I didn’t answer right away, she looked at me. I shrugged, and Mom gave me the look. I couldn’t tell them about my strange dream, so I came up with a non-answer that seemed to satisfy them both.

“The room is great,” I said. “I like the waves.”

“I’ve always liked that, too.” Grandma Mary pulled out a frying pan. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved,” Mom and I said at the same time. We looked at each other, said, “Jinx,” and then laughed. We had a habit of saying the same thing or finishing each other’s sentences. Grandma Mary watched us, shaking her head with an amused expression.

“You’re starved after that big dinner last night? Didn’t you girls eat on the way here?” Grandma Mary laughed as she placed six thick slices of bacon in the pan. The cinnamon and vanilla I smelled earlier came from the huge, steaming stack of French toast already sitting on the table. Grandma Mary saw me eyeing it up and said, “Help yourself, Meara, before they get cold. The bacon will be done in a minute.”

Mom slid the orange juice toward me, and I poured a tall glass.

“Sharon,” Grandma Mary said, flipping the bacon. “Did you know that Lydia’s oldest, Evan, is working with Jamie down at the docks this summer?” Her voice was nonchalant, but I smelled a setup. I raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored me. Mom winked at me when Grandma Mary’s back was turned, biting her cheek to keep from laughing. Very funny.

“Really?” My mom played along. “I had no idea. How old is Evan now?”

“Oh,” Grandma Mary stalled. “I think he’s only a year or two older than you, Meara.”

I was being set up by my grandmother. The best approach when adults muddled was disinterest, so I did the shoulder shrug thing again and filled my mouth with syrupy goodness.

Grandma Mary took one look at my stuffed face and laughed, loud and merry. “Oh, I like her,” she said to my mom, nodding at me. “She’s a girl after my own heart. Food first, conversation later.”

Mom smiled into her coffee and patted my knee. She knew all too well about my appetite. She picked at a piece of French toast and a slice of bacon. Grandma Mary watched her carefully. “I thought you were starving,” she remarked dryly.

Mom shrugged off her concern. “My stomach is jumpy, that’s all.”

“Well, at least drink a little juice,” Grandma Mary said, placing a glass of orange juice in front of her. I was about to ask her if she was going to sit and join us, when she grabbed a plate and loaded it up. We ate in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. I was more relaxed than I’d been since Mom told me her news. I wasn’t the only one looking out for my mom now. My grandparents would help. That knowledge lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. We could fight this together.

I finished my breakfast and took my plate to the sink. “Do you want me to clean up?”

“No,” my grandmother scoffed. “I’ve got it. Why don’t you and your mom go into town and check things out? I’m just going to clean up a bit in here, and then head out to the garden.”

“Are you sure?” Mom hesitated. She hated leaving a mess.

“Yes, you girls go on.” Grandma Mary practically pushed us out the door.

I was already dressed, so I followed Mom back to her room. Sitting on her bed, I talked to her while she got ready. “Where are we going?”

“I can tour you through town. You know, show you my old stomping grounds.”

“Okay,” I said. “Is there anywhere that we can wade in the ocean?”

Mom frowned. “I’m not sure. The Atlantic is cold and rough.”

“It’s almost July, Mom. Can we look into it anyway?”

“We’ll see,” Mom conceded. “Depends how much time is left after we’ve explored the town.”

“Okay.” I let it drop. The town held about fifty people. How long could the tour take? I figured we’d have plenty of time to play in the ocean.

“Are you ready to go?” Mom eyed my faded University of Wisconsin t-shirt. It used to be red, now it was a dusty pink. Didn’t matter to me, it was super comfy. I wasn’t dressed for a date, but who was I going to meet in this rinky-dink town?

“I’m ready,” I said. She looked polished as usual. Her polo shirt was wrinkle free, and her khakis pressed. She even put on a bit of blush, although that may have been to give her some color. She was so pale with dark shadows beneath her eyes.

“Mom, are you feeling okay?” I asked. “We can always go another day.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Meara…stop. I’m okay. Let’s go out and have some fun.”

Without another word, she grabbed her hat, sunglasses, and car keys, heading out the door. I had no choice but to follow.

***

Mom parked in front of a building. The engraved wood sign in front said it was The Cove Inn. The house was light blue with a brighter blue on the shutters. Pink flowers blossomed in white pots of various sizes scattered around the generous porch. A hanging swing made it look inviting, just the way a bed and breakfast should.

“Do you like it?” Mom asked.

“It’s great,” I said. “Is this the one your friend owns?”

“Lydia,” Mom said, looking pleased that I remembered.

“Did you go to school together?” If she was Mom’s best friend, why hadn’t I heard about her until a few days ago?

“Lydia was four years older than me. We didn’t see each other much at school. My mom worked for her mom, so we hung out on the weekends.”

A middle-aged blond woman came around the house, carrying a watering can. She wore round, dark sunglasses, a large, straw hat, and gardening gloves. Her pace was unrushed and relaxed. When she noticed our car, she shaded her eyes with her hand to get a better look. Seconds later, she let out a joyful squeal, dropped the watering can, tore off her gloves, and came running toward our car, stopping outside of the driver’s side window. “Sharon?” she shouted. “Is that you?”

Mom laughed and jumped out of the car. The two women hugged each other, hopping up and down like excited school girls before they pulled back to examine each other.

“Lydia,” Mom said. “You look fantastic!”

Lydia struck a model’s pose and grinned. “You know what they say about that fresh ocean air.” She bent, lowering her sunglasses to look at me. “And this must be Meara.”

“Yes,” Mom said. “Meara, come out and meet Lydia.”

I climbed out and went to stand by my mom. When Lydia extended her hand to me, I shook it, noticing that while she had fine wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, she was very pretty. Her eyes were a beautiful hazel, and she had a wide, full mouth.

“How is Darren?” Mom asked.

“After all these years, Darren’s the same.” Lydia laughed. I assumed Darren was her husband. “He’s away right now on a business trip, but he returns on Wednesday. He’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“And the kids?” Mom inquired.

“Evan starts at the university in the fall. Can you believe it? He’s working for your dad this summer, earning extra money for school.” Lydia shook her head and added. “Somehow, he managed to finagle the morning off.” Lydia turned her thoughtful gaze to me. “My daughter, Katie, is just a few months younger than you are. You’ll both be seniors at Halifax West in the fall.”

I nodded, mentally filing that away. It wouldn’t hurt to have a friend before I started at a new school in a new country. I was already freaked out about the transfer. I’d gone to school with the same kids since kindergarten.

Lydia motioned toward the backyard, saying, “Evan’s out back right now with his dogs if you want to say hi, Meara. I’m going to take your mother inside for a cup of coffee. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Mom and Lydia linked arms and walked up the front steps into the house, chatting away. I stood there, trying to decide if I should introduce myself to a stranger or follow my mom and her friend into the house, for what would probably be a boring conversation. I didn’t make new friends easily. I met Kim in Kindergarten, and my few other friends I’d known just as long. I looked down at my faded t-shirt with regret. Why hadn’t I worn something cuter today? On the other hand, what else was I going to do? Stand on the sidewalk and wait for my mom to return? Not only would that be pathetic, but also I had a feeling that she wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You only live once, I thought with a shrug, walking in the direction Lydia had come from. Two colorful flowerbeds bordered the path. I wasn’t a gardener, so I have no idea what kind of things were growing there, but they were pretty and smelled terrific. I wondered how well she knew my grandmother, who also loved gardening.

At the end of the path, I found a quaint, white picket gate. I opened it and walked into the backyard. It was larger than I imagined and overflowing with flowers and leafy ferns in large, glazed pots. A fountain gurgled happily in the corner, and several benches sat under shady trees. I was so busy taking in the landscaping that it took a moment before my eyes settled on Evan. When they did, I had to keep my mouth from dropping open. Wow. Hot. I patted my ponytail nervously and again regretted not taking a few more minutes to get ready. At least he was also wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes.

Evan didn’t see me, so I leaned against the gate and watched him play with his dogs—some type of spaniel. One dog was brown and white, and the other was black and white. Their tongues hung out, and they jumped excitedly at his feet, waiting for him to throw a Frisbee.

He was about six foot tall with wavy, black hair that curled over his ears. Tanned skin, lean muscles, and strong hands that ended in long, graceful fingers. The only thing I couldn’t see were his eyes, since he wore sunglasses.

Evan laughed as he threw one Frisbee after another. The dogs chased them down and brought them back. Each time they returned, he rewarded them with a vigorous ear scratching. After several rounds, the dogs begged for a bigger reward, flipping on their backs and presenting their bellies. Obligingly, he crouched down to pet them. Within minutes, the Frisbee throwing resumed.

“Ebb, come!” he commanded, and it was then that I noticed the black and white dog veering off toward one of his mother’s beloved gardens. Obediently, Ebb turned and headed back.

“Let me guess, the other one is ‘Flow’?” I called out, forgetting that I was trying to be invisible. He looked startled to see me. Then, that perfect mouth broke into a wide grin.

“Wow, great guess.” He walked over, the dogs trailing behind him. “Most people think I’m saying ‘Abe.’”

“Really?” I tilted my head. He stopped an arm’s length away. His smile was amazing. When he flipped up his sunglasses, I saw that his eyes were blue. Not bright blue like mine, they were a deep, endless blue like the depths of the ocean, fringed in thick, dark lashes. I fought the urge to sigh. I had better be careful, or I was going to say something stupid. “It’s the first thing that came to my mind.”