Second Chance (2 page)

Elle looked at her, eyebrows raised.

Mary reached for the baby. “There’s been a change in plans. Actually, there was a change two weeks ago.”

“A change?”

Mary nodded. “We cancelled the nanny position. We don’t need you any more.”

TWO

“Excuse me?” Elle wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly.

Gus reached for his mother’s ponytail and she dodged him, grabbing at his hand. “My husband was laid off.” Mary’s eyes pooled and she looked away. “Major game changer.”

“I don’t understand.” Elle’s fingers shook as she showed her the confirmation letter from Nice Nannies. “I just printed this last night. Before I left.”

Before I flew here, Elle wanted to add. Before I spent every last penny I had on a plane ticket to come and take a job that you’re now telling me doesn’t exist.

Mary studied the paper and then sighed and looked at the ceiling. Elle knew she wasn’t rolling her eyes. She was trying to keep from crying.

“Kevin was supposed to cancel,” she said. “He’d set it up and he said he’d take care of it. And…he didn’t. Typical male.”

“But
…” Elle’s voice trailed off. She stood there awkwardly and just stared at her. Because she had absolutely no idea what to do. “But I came here for the job. To the island. I just flew in today.”

“I can reimburse your airplane ticket,” Mary said quickly. “I mean, it wasn’t too expensive, right?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

She winced. “OK. I can swing that.”

She walked over to a corner table and grabbed a large, quilted purse. She rummaged inside with her free hand, finally unearthing a checkbook. Gus shrieked and tried to grab the pen from her hands. She settled him on her other hip, away from the pen, and started to write.

Elle watched her, frozen with shock. The job she’d planned on for the summer had just slipped through her fingers. She had no way to get home and no money for living expenses.

Mary had been right. It was a major game changer. For all of them.

She held out the check. “Here,” she said. “For your airfare. Just, um, maybe don’t cash it right away. We’re waiting for unemployment to kick in.”

Elle didn’t take it.

Mary held it closer.

“I don’t want it,” Elle said, folding her arms across her chest.

A flicker of relief crossed Mary’s face.

“I don’t want my airfare,” Elle clarified. “I want my job.”

A sleepy preschool-aged boy appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes. His white-blond hair was cut short and chunks of it stood up, like tufted horns. “Mama?”

Mary whirled around. “Hey, honey.”

He meandered down the stairs, clutching a ragged blue blanket. He focused his eyes on Elle, his gaze never leaving her as he made his way to his mom. He attached himself to her leg.

Sam, Elle thought. The other child I won’t be nannying this summer.

The front door banged open and a tall man wearing Ray Ban’s and a day’s worth of dark stubble walked through the door.

He lifted his sunglasses, sat them on his head and smiled at Elle. “Hi.” He turned to his wife, a questioning look on his face.

“Oh, would you like me to make introductions?” Mary asked, her eyes narrowed. “This is the nanny.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows in alarm.

“The nanny you were supposed to cancel.”

His mouth dropped open as his eyes bounced from woman to woman. “Uh…”

“According to this sheet of paper,” Elle said, the paper gripped tight in her fingers. “I still have a job.”

Kevin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m so sorry. So much has happened and things…have just gotten crazy. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Elle was sympathetic. He’d been laid off. He’d been scrambling. Probably worried about finding a job and insurance and the mortgage and everything else that came tumbling down with a job loss.

But the sympathy didn’t last long. Because she was in exactly the same spot now.

“I’m not sure what we should do here,” Kevin said, frowning at his wife. “Totally my fault. But there’s no way we can pay for a nanny this summer.”

“I think you need to call the nanny service,” Mary said to him. “Like, now.”

“Right, right,” he said. “Excuse me for a minute.”

He scurried out of the room.

“I’m so sorry,” Mary said, again. “It’s just been incredibly stressful and it seems like nothing has gone right.”

Elle nodded, but she was already in panic mode. Her summer was imploding by the minute. The relatively peaceful couple of months she’d envisioned had already vanished, replaced by a giant question mark.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Mary asked. “I suppose we could put you up until you find something.”

“I have a place to stay,” Elle said.

Mary’s face flooded with relief. “Oh, OK. Good. I’m so glad.”

Kevin came back and held out the phone to Elle. “They’d like to speak to you.”

Elle took the phone. Mary and Kevin stepped out of the room, ushering Sam in front of them.

“This is Elle,” she said.

“Hello, Elle,” a familiar voice said. “This is Connie Berkencamp. I hear there’s a bit of a problem.”

“More than a bit.”

“Yes, I gathered,” she said. “I apologize. The Staffords have explained their situation to you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Connie said. “Don’t panic. I’m going to begin looking for something else for you right this minute.”

“OK. But how likely is it that you can find something this late? I mean, summer has already started.”

“As soon as we hang up, I’ll start making calls,” Connie said, dodging the question. “And then as soon as I have something, I'll call you. Immediately.”

Elle sighed. “OK, I guess.”

“You do have accommodations, correct?” Connie said. “I believe we have you listed as staying at a family member’s home there on the island?”

Elle swallowed hard. “Yes. That’s right.”

“And I have your cell right here,” she said. “So I think we’re all set then.”

Elle stared out the window. Nothing was all set. Not a single thing. She felt like she was walking on a bridge and she couldn’t see the other side.

“Yeah,” she said, barely able to get the word out. “All set.”

THREE

The Staffords offered to drive her to the cottage, but Elle declined. She needed time to clear her head and to figure out just what the hell she was going to do.

The sun was still high in the sky, a few late afternoon clouds trying to fight their way into the picture. The air, thick and heavy, smelled like the ocean. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the waves crashing onto the sand.

She trudged down the sidewalk, hauling her suitcase behind her. The wheels thudded on the cracks in the concrete.

It’s not all bad, she tried to convince herself. It’s summer. I’m at the beach. It could be worse.

No, actually it couldn’t. The job had been the key to the entire summer. It gave her purpose, gave her a chance to find direction. And gave her an income. Without a job, she was screwed. No amount of sun or blue sky or sand or ocean could fix that. Those things couldn’t pay her.

Screwed.

She turned the corner, frustrated, angry and unsure of her next move. She just wanted to get back to the cottage. She’d pull the brass key from the zippered compartment in her purse and insert it into the rusted doorknob and push the door open and collapse on the floor and cry before she gave it any more thought.

But there was a problem.

Someone was on her doorstep.

Not just anyone.

Cash Brady.

She froze at the entrance of the arbor-framed sidewalk. Twelve years hadn’t changed him. Same sun-streaked brown hair. Same lean, muscular build. His eyes were hidden, shaded by black sunglasses, but she imagined those were the same, too, a subtle mix of blues that always made her think of the ocean.

He smiled at her, that slow, easy smile she remembered. That slow, easy smile that she never thought she’d see again.

“Hey,” he said, nodding his head in her direction. “I heard you were back in town.”

She stared at him. What was Cash Brady doing on her grandmother’s doorstep? After twelve long years
…what was he doing anywhere near her?

“Elle?” he said, raising his eyebrows so they rose above his sunglasses.

She shook her head, trying to snap out of it.

“From who?” she asked. She’d seen the taxi driver and the Staffords in the short time she’d been there and that was it.

He shrugged. “Just heard, that’s all.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. “Could ask you the same thing.”

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and took a step forward. The suitcase wheels caught on a crevice and pitched forward. She yanked it upright and sighed.

She didn’t want to have a conversation with Cash Brady. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to see him.

“I’m here for the summer,” she said, her voice curt. “Putting the house on the market.”

Cash nodded, like he’d already known. “Rumor had it that’s what you were doing.”

Rumor? People were already talking about her? She’d been on the island for less than an hour.

He stepped off the front stoop and, before she could stop him, grabbed the suitcase handle. “Let me get this.”

“I can get it,” she half-snapped. She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, wasn’t in the mood to rekindle old friendships. Or, rather, old relationships.

He ignored her and lifted the suitcase out of her hands. In three quick steps, he was back by the front door, waiting.

She sighed and, with no other choice, joined him on the stoop. She fished the key out of her purse and jiggled it in the stubborn lock, twisting the knob and pushing on the door. It groaned in protest before finally giving way.

The smell hit her first. Or, rather, the absence of it. Summers had smelled like herbal tea and lavender and wood polish; of fresh-baked scones and roses cut from the garden.

Elle stepped inside and there was nothing. No scent, no hint of the memories she’d made there. The furniture was pushed up along the sides of the rooms, covered in drop cloths and old sheets. The warped walnut floors, always polished and gleaming, were covered with dust and droppings. She shuddered at the thought of what might’ve left those. Mice, most likely. She hated mice.

“It’s seen better days,” Cash remarked.

She’d almost forgotten he was there.

“It’s been empty for years,” she said. “What did you expect?”

He set her suitcase along the wall. “Not judging. Just stating.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I was sorry to hear about your grandma,” he said, his voice soft. “It was so sudden.”

It was Elle’s turn to nod. “It was.”

She remembered the call like it was yesterday. It had been the spring of her senior year. She’d been at a friend’s house when her mother called. Told her matter-of-factly about her own mother’s death. A heart attack. Yes, it was sudden. Yes, she was already dead when paramedics arrived. No, she didn’t think she’d suffered. No, there would be no funeral.

And that had been it. No chance to say goodbye, no chance to relive memories or whisper one last I love you. She swallowed back the tears that always threatened when she thought about that day.

He lifted his sunglasses, setting them on top of his head. “You haven’t been back since, have you?”

“Nope.” She walked toward the kitchen, set her purse down on the counter. The wood floor gave way to linoleum that was beige with age, the corners peeling.

She knew she was being impolite. She should engage in small talk, smile and be nice. It wasn’t Cash’s fault that she’d just lost her job for the summer. It wasn’t his fault that her mother wanted to sell the house. And it wasn’t his fault that she’d had to leave that last summer she’d been there, just like always. But it was his fault that he’d stopped talking to her all those years ago.

He offered her another smile. “Well, welcome back.” 

“Thanks,” she managed.

“Anyway,” he said. “I just wanted to say hey. And to let you know that if you need any help, I’m around.”

“Help with what?” she asked. He was the last person she wanted to see on the island and the last person she’d ever ask for help.

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and produced a card. He handed it to her.

“I’m the only one on the island,” he told her. “Let me know when you’re ready to list.”

She glanced down at the card. Cash Brady. Keefer Realty

FOUR