Second Chance (17 page)

Elle thought, considered what he’d said. It had to be linked to her relationship with Cash. But, as far as she knew, her grandparents had been happily married. She’d never seen anything otherwise.

But maybe that was because she hadn’t looked.

She stood up.

“What?” Cash asked.

She said nothing as she headed toward her grandmother’s room. Cash followed her, his footsteps solid as he crossed the hall to join her.

Elle stood in the middle of the room, thinking. She’d found the letter tucked away in her grandmother’s desk. The letter that had ultimately led her back to Cash.

Maybe there was something else in that desk. Something that would help her decipher exactly what her mother was talking about.

THIRTY-TWO

Elle was growing frustrated.

Both she and Cash were on the floor, the drawers of the desk pulled open, the contents scattered around them. She shifted, folding her legs Indian-style. She’d seen all of this already. The files and the postcards. The invitations and old photos.

“This is pointless.” She sighed in frustration. “We’re not going to find anything.”

“Yeah, we won’t.” When she shot him an angry glare he said, “If we give up now, I mean. Think about it, Elle. Whatever your mom’s referring to has stayed hidden from you for thirty years. It’s not like we’re going to find the answer all wrapped up like a present.”

She knew he had a point. She sifted through more piles, looking for something—anything—that might signal an alarm. It was agonizingly slow work. And, after a half hour, they both came up empty-handed. There was nothing.

“There’s nothing here.”

Even Cash looked ready to give up. “I guess not.”

Elle looked around the room. “Where else would she put things? Things that were important. Things that she wouldn’t want someone to find.”

Cash shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Elle sighed and picked up the empty top drawer. She shoved it back into the desk but it was off track and wouldn’t slide in. She shoved it in again.

Cash stopped her. “Don’t. You’re gonna break it.”

She moved away and he pulled the drawer gently, trying to align it. Satisfied, he pushed it into place. And it still didn’t line up.

He muttered something under his breath. “Here,” he said, handing her the drawer. He got down on his knees and looked inside the desk, trying to locate the problem.

“Think I know why it isn’t going in.”

“Why?”

He ducked his head back out and smiled. “Take a look.”

Elle frowned. She didn’t really care why the desk wasn’t cooperating. But she indulged him, anyway, dropping to all fours and peering up inside the desk.

“What is that?” she asked.

Cash reached his hand into the desk and fumbled with something. A small stack of envelopes tied together with a blue ribbon fell to the floor.

“What is that?” she repeated.

He reached for the envelopes. “Some kind of secret compartment.” He handed her the letters.

Elle turned them over, nervous excitement bubbling up inside of her. The envelopes were brittle, yellowed with age. She didn’t recognize the handwriting but the name on the front of each was familiar. They were all addressed to her grandmother. She flipped the envelopes over, searching for a return address. The same name was scrawled on the back.

Robert Landemeer
.

Landemeer.

She stared at the name.

Cash craned his neck to see. “Those are from Bob Landemeer? That’s…odd.”

Elle didn’t answer, just clutched the envelopes in her hand.

“Are you going to open them?”

Elle took a deep breath. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, didn’t want to think that the answer she was looking for was contained within, but she couldn’t help herself.

Carefully, she undid the ribbon and set it aside. She opened the first letter and read it silently to herself. Her hands trembled as she flipped the sheet of paper. Cash watched her.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, frozen on the ground, going through the letters one by one.

He watched her as she read through the remaining letters in the stack.

Finally, he spoke. “Elle?”

She held up a finger, her eyes glued to the letter in her hand.

He waited.

Finally, she folded up each of the letters and slipped them back into the envelopes, handling them as if they were fine china. She bundled and tied them back together with the light-blue ribbon.

“You’re crying,” Cash said, seeing the tears fall down her cheeks.

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s in the letters, Elle?” he asked.

She stood, still clutching the letters. She looked around the room. She missed her grandmother more than ever.

“The explanation,” she said.

THIRTY-THREE

“I’m not her, Mom,” Elle said.

“Not yet.” Her mother’s voice was like ice. “But you’ll end up just like her.”

Elle sat in the living room, perched on the edge of the couch. She clutched the phone to her ear. Cash stood nearby, his arms folded across his chest, a puzzled expression on his face. She’d told him nothing, just marched out of her grandmother’s bedroom and grabbed the phone. When her mother answered, all she’d said was, “I found the letters. From Bob Landemeer.”

It had been all her mother had needed to hear.

“How?” Elle demanded, anger coursing through her. “How the hell can you think that?”

“It’s that island.” Her mother spat the word as if it was something deadly.

Elle shook her head. “No. It isn’t. The island has nothing to do with it. It was love, Mom. Something that has been missing from your life for far too long.”
And mine
, she thought.

“A love that ruined her life.”

“How?” Elle asked. “Tell me how it ruined her life. Because I’m not seeing it.”

“She spent her entire life pining for that man.”

Elle shook her head. No, she hadn’t. Her grandmother had fallen in love with Bob Landemeer well before she’d married Elle’s grandfather. And, from what she’d read in the letters, she’d remained faithful to her husband for their entire marriage. And, after he’d died, to his memory.

She said as much to her mother.

Her mother’s laugh was anything but amused. “Her heart always belonged to that man. It’s why she went running back to the island within weeks after my dad died. So she could be near her precious love again.”

“To be with him?” Elle asked doubtfully. “You’re telling me she broke up Evelyn’s marriage?” Bob Landemeer had died when Elle was just a little girl. She had no memories of her grandmother with him. None.

Her mother hesitated. “No,” she finally said. “She never would’ve done anything to get in the way of anyone else’s marriage. But she wanted to be close to him. Needed to be close to him.”

Elle stood up and began to pace. Cash shot her a questioning look but she just shook her head.

“You know one thing I don’t get?” She didn’t wait for her mother to respond. “I don’t get what this has to do with me and Cash. Why you purposely kept his letters from me. Why you never told me about his phone calls.”

There was silence.

“You know,” Elle said, her voice even, controlled. “You owe me that. An explanation.”

“Don’t you see?” Her mother’s voice rose. “You were going to travel down that same path. Falling for an island boy. Losing your entire life to him. I’d lost my mother to that island. I wasn’t about to lose my daughter, too.”

“But what about what I wanted?” Elle cried. “What gave you the right to decide that?  It was my life. Not yours.”

“I gave you a good life,” her mother countered, but her voice wavered. “You went to a good school. You had a good job. Your life was fine.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Tears blinded Elle’s eyes and she brushed at them furiously. “There was always something missing. Something you took away from me.”

“You deserved better.”

“No.” Elle shook her head. “I deserved him.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Cash sat down at the kitchen table next to Elle. “I guess we have our answer.”

She nodded. “I guess.”

It had taken awhile, but Elle had pulled the details from her mother. After she hung up, she told Cash. How her mother had intercepted the letters he’d sent. Read them before destroying them. How she’d purposely equipped her with a cell phone, had erased the voice mail messages before Elle could retrieve them. The level of betrayal had stunned them both.

“One thing I don’t get,” Cash said slowly. “Is why your grandmother didn’t send the letter to you. That last one. It wasn’t like her to take her time with things, you know? I gave it to her a few days before she died.”

“Because she told my mother about it.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She nodded. “She told me.” She smiled but there was no mirth in her expression. “The one piece of information she actually volunteered.”

“What did she say?”

“I guess my grandmother called her.” Elle drummed her fingers on the table. “She knew how I felt about you, obviously. But I guess my mother had shared her concerns.” She tripped over the word. “Anyway, she let my mom know that she had it. That she would be sending it along. My mom asked her to hold on to it for a bit.”

Cash frowned. “Why? Why couldn’t she just intercept it like all the others?”

“Because it was spring break,” she said simply. “And I was home.”

He sighed. “Oh. Of course.”

They sat together, both of them silent, both of them lost in thought.

“All this time,” Elle said, her voice soft. “And all because of my mom.”

Cash covered her hand with his own, stilling her fingers. “It was a shitty thing to do.”

“Shitty doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

He nodded. “I know. But we can’t change the past.”

“I know.”

“There is something we can do, though.”

She looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“We can think about the future.” His hand tightened over hers. “Because that’s what I want, Elle. It’s what I’ve always wanted, from the first time I met you. I want a future with you.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“Why are we here?” Cash asked. “I thought you weren’t interested in her offer.”

Elle stood on the doorstep of Evelyn Landemeer’s house and waited. “You’ll see.”

“I don’t know that this is a good idea.”

She pushed the gold button mounted on the house’s white siding. “I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not,” she said. “I’m doing it.”

They waited. Footsteps approached, the sound of heels clicking along the floor.

The door opened and Evelyn Landemeer raised an eyebrow at her. “Elle?”

“Hello,” Elle said. “Do you have a moment?”

Evelyn hesitated, then looked past her toward Cash. “Hello, Cash.”

“Ma’am.” If seeing his former almost-mother-in-law was awkward, he hid it well.

She held the door open and motioned them inside. They both stepped into the living room, their footsteps echoing on the polished wood floor. The house looked exactly the same as Elle remembered it. Plush, Turkish carpets scattered across the floor. Mahogany furniture, sofas and lounge chairs covered in crushed velvet. Chandeliers dripping with crystals. Stiff, formal portraits adorning the walls. It looked like a museum, not a home. And Elle still hated it.

“I suppose I know why you’re here,” Evelyn said, letting the door close and unable to hide a smile.

“That right?” Elle asked.

She smiled smugly. “Well, you show up here unannounced with your real estate agent. I’m guessing you’ve decided to sell.”

“No,” Elle told her. “We already have a buyer.”

The smile disappeared. “You do?”

Cash echoed the question. “We do?”

She ignored Cash’s stare. She’d tell him her plan later.

“So, that’s not why we’re here,” Elle continued.

“Then why are you here, Elle?” Evelyn asked, frowning. “My offer was perfectly fair.”

Elle laughed. “No, it wasn’t. Don’t pretend.”

Evelyn flushed. “Tell me about the offer you received. I’m sure I can match it.”

“My grandmother loved your husband,” Elle said.

The room went quiet, as if someone had opened a door and sucked the air right out of it.

“Excuse me?” Evelyn asked. She stood perfectly still, her hand arrested in mid-air.