Sea of Love: A Bayberry Island Novel (27 page)

“I see.”

“I got a piece of paper if you want to look at it.”

“That would be helpful, thank you.”

Ash waited for a few moments, trying his best not to stare at his surroundings. It was incredibly depressing. Nobody should live like this, and he realized that in addition to Hubie’s obvious eccentric tendencies, a lack of money had to play a part in why this place hadn’t been cleaned and fixed up. He’d seen it often enough—when someone was focused on surviving day to day, anything that could be delayed would be. Those delays could go on for years or even decades, until the task became insurmountable.

Like with the Safe Haven.

“Here you are, young man.” Hubie set the single sheet of paper on the table, and Ash recognized all the names from the J-R documents. “Would you mind if I took a photograph?”

“Of what?”

“This piece of paper.”

“With a camera?”

“With my phone.”

“You have a camera in your phone?”

“I do. I can also access my e-mail from my phone.”

Hubie shrugged. “I don’t understand life anymore, but suit yourself.”

Ash took a few shots, then returned his phone to his pants pocket.

“What do you want my house for?” Hubie asked. “You want to live here?”

Ash took a moment to think about his response. He wanted to be honest with Hubie, but he didn’t want him to get his hopes up. At this juncture, his plan was still just wishful thinking. He had to convince James and the board before he could even begin negotiations on the land.

“Mr. Krank, if I had an idea for all the land on Haven Cove that would make everyone money, create a bit more tourist income, but not destroy the environment or the character of Bayberry Island, do you think the landowners would sell to someone other than the resort developer?”

Hubie’s head reared back. He blinked a few times, and at first Ash thought maybe he hadn’t heard him, despite his continued bellowing. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Of course I heard you! I’m not deaf!” He pushed himself up from the kitchen chair and slowly made his way to the sink. He filled up the teakettle, lit the gas burner, and got himself a tea bag and an old cup from the cabinet. Ash wasn’t certain where this was headed or if Hubie had forgotten he was there, so he cleared his throat.

Hubie turned around. Ash was startled to see tears in his eyes.

“Young man, if you could do that, it would be a miracle, and all of us would be forever grateful. How can I help?”

Ash stood. “You can call an emergency meeting of the landowners association for late Thursday afternoon. I’m taking some people on a tour of the island, and they’d like to meet with everyone afterward, everyone at once. But there’s one special request I have to make.”

Hubie’s doubtful scowl returned. “What?”

“You can’t tell anyone the reason for the meeting. Please. It’s important, because at this point I can’t promise anything, and I would hate to cause anyone more disappointment than they’ve already experienced.”

The old man nodded.

“So I can count on your discretion?”

The corner of Hubie’s mouth curled up. “Of course you can. I’ll call Sally, the head fairy. She’s the president of the landowner’s coalition. I’ll tell her someone other than the developer offered me money for my land.”

Ash had met Sally—it was her wing that had jabbed him in the eye during Island Day. “All right, but don’t tell her anything more.”

Hubie Krank smiled, revealing an off-kilter set of dentures. “If anyone asks me why there’s a meeting, I’ll pretend I can’t hear a damn thing they’re saying to me. Works like a charm.”

M
ona pulled out the business card she’d long ago tucked into the side pocket of her three-ring binder, picked up her cell phone, and dialed. Her heart was so loud that the pounding in her head dulled her hearing.

“Jessop-Riley Development Corporation. How may I direct your call?”

Mona asked to speak to the pushy woman named Kathryn Hilsom. She’d never liked her. Never trusted her. So the idea that she was voluntarily asking to speak with her made Mona feel sick to her stomach.

“May I ask what this is regarding?”

“Uh, a development. On Bayberry Island. For a casino and golf course.”

The woman sounded positively giddy. “Oh! Of course! The Mermaid Island Resort. I’ll put you through to Kathryn immediately. I’m sure she’d be happy to assist you. Just one moment, please.”

Mona was put on hold. The thirty seconds she spent in the company of a horrid Neil Diamond song seemed like an eternity. She paced her small living room, feeling herself break out in a sweat. She decided if this woman didn’t show herself in another ten seconds, it would be some kind of divine sign and she could just hang up.

“Hello. Kathryn Hilsom speaking.”

Mona froze. She made a pitiful sighing sound.

“Hello? Mrs. Flynn?”

Mona couldn’t find her voice.

“Is this regarding the Mermaid Island Resort? I assure you, I am here to do whatever I can to assist you.”

Mona
hated
that name. Every time she heard it, she couldn’t help but hear a hint of condescending humor in it, like they were poking fun at the island’s Great Mermaid and the legend. But if Mona were going to go through with this phone call, then she damn well better get used to hearing it, hadn’t she?

“Yes.”

“Wonderful. How is the family? Is everyone well?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Fine.” Mona realized she must sound brusque, but really, did this Kathryn woman expect her to act like they were best friends? “I want to discuss money.”

She heard Kathryn gasp. “All right. It would be my pleasure.”

“I’ve decided that we will sell.”

“Oh. Oh my God. That’s fabulous! You want to sell?”

“Yes. God help me.” Mona stared down at the twisted bones of her left hand. How she wished it hadn’t come to this.

“All right, Mrs. Flynn. This is excellent news. May I ask what caused you to change your mind?”

“No. You may not ask. It’s a private family matter. And you need to know this is the last chance for your company, lady. I’ve opened the door for you, and if you want to take advantage of this invitation, then do so. If not, don’t ever bother contacting me again.”

“Wait!”

Mona could hear this Kathryn woman’s rapid and shallow breathing. “I will personally come tomorrow to ensure your family and all the Haven Cove landowners are generously compensated on the spot. I will collect everyone’s signatures at that time.”

“Tomorrow?” Mona was shocked that she wanted to move so fast, but supposed she wanted to make sure Mona had no time to change her mind. “Tomorrow won’t work. I still have to speak to my family about this, and I won’t have an opportunity until tomorrow evening.”

“Thursday, then.”

“Well, all right, but I’ll need to call an emergency meeting of the Haven Cove Landowners Coalition, and we’re still in the middle of festival week. I’ll see if I can get a meeting room in the town hall, but I can’t make any promises.”

“Mrs. Flynn.” The woman’s voice sounded measured, almost as if she were about to explain a difficult concept to a simple-minded child. “I
can
make you a promise, and it is this: If you get them in the door, I promise that you and everyone else will walk out very, very rich people.”

Mona sighed heavily. “Whatever.” She rubbed her forehead, feeling on the verge of tears. What she was doing was unconscionable. She was selling out her beloved Bayberry Island to corporate scumbags. Mona forced herself to remember that she’d done it in exchange for her daughter’s freedom and to put an end to the ill will that had ruined lifelong friendships—and her marriage.

But that did nothing to lessen the guilt she felt for doing business with Satan’s handmaid.

“I will be there Thursday. Thank you, and have a wonderful day.”

The line went dead.

A
sh held the neck of a chilled bottle of pinot grigio in his left hand and Rowan’s small, warm fingers in his right. They walked together at a comfortable clip up Shoreline Road toward Mona’s house, the early-evening light of the Wednesday evening falling softly around them.

He knew there were countless details that had to settle into place in the days to come, but he wasn’t worried. For the first time in his life, he had a sense that everything would be the way it was supposed to be, regardless of his efforts. He knew that his usual pushing and shoving and creative use of the truth wouldn’t be necessary here.

The institute would be built on Bayberry Island. He could already see it.

The series of high-definition images in his mind revealed how it all would play out. If the Flynns were amenable, the Safe Haven could be restored to its original beauty and repurposed as staff housing and offices. There would be a residence hall for the hundreds of students who would rotate through the institute each summer, a low-impact research building, an education center with interactive exhibits open to the public, a conference site, plus a small marina for Oceanaire’s fleet of science vessels. Maybe even a small outdoor amphitheater. Eventually, a luxury inn and restaurant might be added to the scope of development, since the island’s additional visitors would need somewhere to stay.

Off in the distance, the early-evening ferry sounded its horn, announcing its arrival at the public dock. The familiar sound made Ash smile.

He’d been on Bayberry for only five days, yet his body’s rhythm was already synced with the island. He knew how the rain smelled here and how the sun slanted through the trees during the day. He recognized the difference in the waves at low and high tides. At night, he waited to hear the low-pitched cry of the snowy owl that lived near the carriage house. His heart had altered its rhythm, as well, and was now aligned with the pretty woman at his side. He missed Rowan when she was working. He counted the hours until he could be with her again. And though the sensation was completely new for him, at some level it felt as if it had always been this way and always would be.

All that in five days. It was the damnedest thing.

Rowan shot him a sideways glance. “What?”

Ash looked innocent. “What, what?”

“What are you thinking over there? You’re a little quiet.”

“Just thinking about you.”

Rowan laughed. “I think you’re wondering what goes on at these annual family cookouts.”

He squeezed her hand tighter. “It’s probably a lot like the Martin family cookouts I used to go to.”

She bumped her hip into the side of his leg. “Could the Martins drain a half barrel of beer in an evening? Were Brian’s parents either not speaking to each other or exchanging nasty one-liners? Did Brian’s mother dress up like a mermaid?”

Ash thought about that for a minute. “Uh, no. So . . . is everyone going to be in costume except you and me?”

Rowan laughed hard, draping her arm around his waist. “I was kidding about my mom. She won’t be in her mermaid ensemble tonight, believe it or not. But what is it with you and costumes? Were you traumatized by a birthday clown or something?”

He chuckled. “Not that I recall. I really hate drawing attention to myself like that. The idea makes me cringe. Plus I’m a stuffy guy. Boring. Inflexible. You know how we Bostonians can be.”

“Not hardly, Mr. Wallace.” Rowan gave him a flirtatious smile. “But maybe one day I’ll plan a special evening for us, you know, as a way to gently introduce you to the joys of costuming. We can read aloud from one of Annie’s books and play a game of sea captain and mermaid.”

That made Ash laugh in earnest, and one of his favorite lines of prose from the mermaid smut genre came to mind. With the breathiest voice he could muster, he said,
“
His sea-roughened hands clutched at her glistening mermaid flesh . . .”

Rowan stopped in midstride. “Wait. You’ve read her books?”

Oh shit
. Ash couldn’t lie—the idea of letting another falsehood escape his lips in Rowan’s company made him nauseated. It would be inexcusable. He knew that once tomorrow had come and gone and his plan had unfolded, she would know everything. Rowan would know of his original intentions and how she had changed his mind. She would hear of his alternate plan for property along the cove. He could tell her the depth of his feelings and even admit that he’d read every one of Annie’s mermaid erotica novels—for research purposes, of course.

“I confess.” Ash shrugged. “I told you I went to her shop, right?”

“Oh.” Rowan started walking again, her smile back in place. “For a minute there I thought you were holding out on me.”

“Ha.”

“So a costume night would not be out of the question, then?”

Ash looked at the playful expression in her eyes and knew that she truly enjoyed messing with him almost as much as he enjoyed messing with her. “Let’s work up to it, all right? Maybe we can start small, like with you wearing your parade getup. That was hot.”

“And you? What would you be wearing?”

“Not a fucking thing.”

Rowan laughed, tugging him closer for a moment before she released him with a sigh. “Well, this is Mona’s house. She’s been living here by herself since she and Dad separated.”

Rowan pointed toward a cute one-story cedar-shingle home surrounded by neatly trimmed boxwoods and an outrageous variety of roses. The front door was painted cherry red and featured an antique wrought-iron knocker. The effect was charming, and Ash bet that with a little elbow grease, Hubie Krank’s place could look just as pretty.

“In all seriousness, there is one thing you need to know about tonight, okay?” Rowan looked up at him from under her lashes, sadness suddenly in her expression. “Duncan not being here is probably going to make everyone a little bummed out. He’s missed only one cookout, and that was while he was in basic training. So I know we will all feel that something is missing. Ma’s probably going to be extremely upset that he’s not here, though she’ll try to cover it up.”

Ash had never heard Rowan use the word
Ma
. It had always been
my mother
or
Mona
. It revealed a tenderness he hadn’t seen before, and it touched him. He knew the two of them had long-standing issues that had nothing to do with his arrival on the island, but he worried that he’d contributed to their distance. Maybe tomorrow’s revelations would help mend the relationship.

Ash opened the wobbly front gate for Rowan and placed his free hand at the small of her back. It gave him a thrill he knew he’d never tire of.

Rowan looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Also, Dad won’t show up until Clancy’s here—they have an arrangement. My father can’t handle a family thing without male backup.”

“Gotcha.”

“This way, around the side.”

He followed Rowan, and up close like this he saw that the paint along the trim of the cottage was peeling, and storm shutter hinges were rusted through. Like most everything else on Bayberry Island, what appeared charming from a distance showed signs of neglect upon closer inspection. He hoped that within a couple years all that would be different.

They crossed beneath a weather-beaten wooden arbor heavy with roses and entered Mona’s backyard. They were the first to arrive. Ash noticed that the grass was neatly trimmed, which was probably Clancy’s doing, and under a large sycamore, Mona had set out a table fit for a
Martha Stewart Living
photo shoot. It was a long wooden table draped in a crisp white linen tablecloth and set with china and crystal. Ash counted seven places, and he made a quick calculation in his head—Mona, Frasier, Clancy, Annie, Nat, Rowan, and himself. In the middle of the table was a large centerpiece of wildflowers, cattails, and seashells. There wasn’t a mermaid tail in sight.

On one side of the yard was a large charcoal grill already heating up. Off to the other side, an assortment of mismatched wooden and plastic lawn chairs and small tables were arranged around a fire pit already set for a bonfire.

“Oh! Hello!” Mona looked up, her eyes immediately filled with happiness. “So glad you’re here!” She walked toward them, arms outstretched.

“Hi, Ma. It looks really pretty.” Rowan met her mother and gave her a hug. It wasn’t particularly warm, but at least she’d been willing to go there.

“You look lovely, honey.” Mona’s eyes scanned Rowan’s blue polka-dot sundress and smiled. “You always look lovely.”

She was right about that.

“Well, thanks.” Rowan turned toward Ash, and he knew it was his turn to greet Mona.

“Thank you so much for the invitation,” he said, giving her a hug as well. He embraced her an extra couple of seconds, so that she knew it was more than just for show. “Is there a cooler I can put this in? Or the refrigerator?”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you, Ashton!” She accepted the wine and smiled as she read the label. “This will go perfectly with the menu.”

“I’m glad.”

“I bet Boston Brahmins such as yourself know a thing or two about fine wine. Am I right?”

He realized Mona only wanted to make pleasant conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of that barb. Mona’s battle over the development had left her bitter about money, and Ash reminded himself that it had nothing to do with him. He prayed his news tomorrow would be a balm for all that bitterness.

Mona shook her head and closed her eyes for an instant. “I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to say. Please forgive me.”

“It’s okay.” Ash gave her a genuine smile and wagged his eyebrows. “I do know a lot about fine wine, actually.”

Mona laughed, then gave him another hug. “Well, you two make yourselves comfortable. Be right back.” They watched Mona go into the back door.

“Sorry.” Rowan crossed her arms under her breasts. “Sometimes it seems that it’s always one step forward and three back with her.”

“Sweetheart. It’s not a big deal.” He gathered her in his arms and counted in his head. One, two, three, four . . . until Rowan let her stiff arms relax and she leaned into him.

She lifted her eyes to his. “You have some kind of magical power over me, Ash.”

“Then we’re even.” He kissed her. It was true. Even in that gentle kiss, there was magic.

“Break it up!”

Ash pulled away to see Nat and Annie stroll arm in arm into the backyard. Nat looked pleased with his sense of humor. Annie looked beautiful and happy. Mona came out of the back door, and there were more hugs all around, while Nat handed over a dish that Mona immediately set on the table. Soon, everyone was seated with a glass of wine or beer.

“Is Clancy going to be late?”

Mona shrugged at Rowan’s question. “He hasn’t called. I really don’t know.”

Ash was facing away from the backyard entrance, so when he noticed Rowan bristle, he had no idea what the problem was. He turned to see Frasier strolling their way, without Clancy serving as buffer. There was something more devilish than usual in his expression.

“Jeesh,” Rowan whispered. “He’s getting brazen.”

Mona saw her husband and her spine went rigid.

Everyone stood up. Rowan decided to step in between her parents. “Is Clancy on his way, Dad?”

“Yep. Coming now.”

Mona turned away from Frasier and began fiddling with the table. Just then Ash heard the sound of what was probably Clancy’s police Jeep pull up to the front of the house. Within seconds, he’d popped around to the side yard.

“Hey, everybody.” Clancy stopped under the arbor and shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers. “Ma, I decided to bring someone. Is that okay?”

Mona didn’t bother turning around. “Of course, honey. Anyone is welcome.”

“Well, if you say so.” Clancy looked over his shoulder. “Come on! Hurry your ugly ass up!”

“Clancy!” Mona spun around. It was obvious she planned to chastise her son for his spectacularly bad manners. Instead, she let out a shriek of joy and slapped her hands over her face.

It was Duncan.

Rowan and Annie screamed, too. Mona began sobbing. Duncan made his way over to his mother and picked her up, hugging her tight. Then he draped his free arm around Rowan and kissed her cheek. Annie got the treatment next. Just then, Ash’s eyes met Nat’s, and Ravelle made his way over to stand next to Ash, giving everyone a chance to revel in their reunion.

“Damn,” Nat mumbled to Ash. “I could’ve been a Navy SEAL, but getting into film school seemed like more of a challenge.”

Ash laughed, noticing how Frasier hung back from everyone else, too, arms crossed over his chest as he smiled proudly. So that’s how it happened—Frasier and Clancy had probably picked up Duncan at the ferry and come straight to the house. The only question was how long they’d known he was coming.

Duncan stared at Ash over the top of Rowan’s head, his pale blue eyes flashing a warning. Obviously, Clancy and Frasier had filled him in about his budding relationship with Rowan on the ride over.
Great
, Ash thought. Another Flynn male to bash horns with. Duncan brought his overwhelmed mother with him, still tucked under his arm, as he moved toward Nat. He held out his hand.