Lauren
Progress: to move forwards or onwards
towards a place or objective
The weeks passed in a blur of activity and while Lauren busied herself with clearing, sewing and painting, the island shook off the freezing cloak of winter and spring emerged. Forsythia bloomed, brightening the garden with a burst of gold, the streets grew busier and the air warmed.
On a sunny Wednesday in mid-April she was awake early and making cushions for one of the upstairs bedrooms when she heard the kitchen door open.
Jenna came in wearing shorts and running shoes. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Lauren put the fabric down and rolled her shoulders to ease the ache. Her head hurt and her fingers hurt. “I’m ready for strong coffee, a hot shower or maybe even wine.”
“At six in the morning?”
“Is that the time? The hours are merging.” And she was using every one of them, partly because it helped to bury her emotions under layers of hard work, but mostly because she was enjoying thinking about something other than her own problems. “Why are you dressed in running gear?”
“Because I’m ready for our run.” Jenna picked up the fabric. “I love this color. Very beachy.”
“It’s for the master bedroom. What run?”
“The one we’re about to go on. I need to run off my stress.” She fiddled with the fabric. “Is Mom in?”
“Upstairs. Still asleep I think. Be careful with that. There are pins in it. What’s up?” She knew her sister well enough to know when something was wrong.
“I haven’t been sleeping.” Jenna handed the fabric back. “I keep thinking about Dad and all those women.”
“Me, too.” Lauren threaded a needle. “I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”
“Do you think it would have made a difference if we’d told Mom what we saw?”
Lauren shook her head. “None.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” She stabbed the needle into the fabric. “Dad couldn’t help himself. Expecting him to ignore women would have been like putting an alcoholic in charge of a bar and asking him not to drink.”
“Did you know he had other affairs?”
Lauren focused on her sewing. “No. I didn’t know for sure. I suspected. I saw him at a couple of summer picnics, talking and laughing with women. He was a flirt.”
“I didn’t see that.”
“You were younger than me. You probably didn’t notice.”
“Has it changed the way you feel about him?”
Lauren snipped the thread. “Seeing him that night we were together changed the way I felt about him. When I wasn’t with him, I was always wary. Didn’t quite trust him. But when I was with him he always made sure we had so much fun I forgot that I didn’t trust him.”
“I was the same. And I feel guilty,” Jenna confessed. “I feel like I’m being disloyal to Mom by not hating him.”
“He was our dad. Little girls are allowed to love their dad even if he’s flawed. Mom wouldn’t want us to hate him.”
Jenna flopped down on the chair next to her. “You look exhausted. What time did you get up?”
“Five.” And she’d been upholstering a sofa until midnight. “Since when have you been a keen morning runner?”
“I will never be a keen runner at any time of the day, but that doesn’t mean I can’t run when I have to. I’ll run for cookies, I’ll run for ice cream and I’ll run for my sister.” Jenna waved her hand toward the door. “I’ll give you four minutes to get changed. I can’t be late for school.”
Lauren was touched. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I have a ton of things to do to get this place ready for the rental.”
“An hour out of your day isn’t going to make a difference. What’s all that?” Jenna frowned at the boxes stacked against the wall in the kitchen.
“That,” Lauren said, “is just some of the junk Mom cleared out yesterday.”
Jenna opened the box on top and peeped inside. “Dad’s trophies?”
“She’s taking them to the Goodwill store.”
“She opened up his man cave?”
“Not only did she open it up, she cleared it out.”
“And she didn’t seem upset?”
“She was energized. Once she started, there was no stopping her. I helped her. I think she found it cathartic.”
“A month ago, I never would have believed it possible.” Jenna closed the box back up. “So now we have a tenth bedroom.”
“I still need to clean it up and decorate, but yes. Eventually.” Would they get it all done in time? She’d been working nonstop since they’d agreed on their plan.
She’d thrown herself into the redecoration of The Captain’s House, relying more on creativity than cash. She spent her days trawling thrift stores and yard sales, and was consistently surprised by what people were prepared to throw away.
She bought wooden crates cheaply, painted them and used them as side tables in the children’s bunk room. She sewed pretty patchwork quilts for the beds in coastal colors, using scraps of fabric that had been discarded. She’d picked up an outgrown beach dress in bold blue-and-white stripe and used it to recover cushions in the garden room. She had to pay more than she’d planned for the perfect rug for the living room, but she’d found bargain lighting that had helped rebalance her books.
Every night at dinner she showed off her fabric finds to her mother and they discussed colors and textures. Her mother was painting the rooms, mostly in white to reflect the light and space. Lauren used the furnishings to add color.
She sewed late into the night and started again early in the morning. Their deadline hung over her. She knew she needed to get a few rooms finished so that they could photograph the house and advertise it, but she’d underestimated how long it would take to transform a house as big as this one. And they still had the Sail Loft to tackle.
“You’ve been busy,” Jenna said and Lauren nodded as she folded the quilt.
“It stops me thinking about Ed, and Scott. And takes my mind off worrying about Mack.”
Jenna grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table. “How is she?”
“Happier I think.” Which was a relief. Lauren wasn’t quite sure what had brought about the change and assumed it was school. She was too relieved to question it too closely. “We don’t talk much but she seems to have stopped treating me like the enemy.”
“That’s a start.” Jenna finished the apple. “Come on. It’s low tide. We can run along the beach.”
It had been years since she’d run along the beach.
Lauren was tempted. “A short one.”
They ran along the bike path that led between Edgartown and Oak Bluffs, and then dropped down to the beach.
The moment her feet hit the sand, Lauren found her rhythm. She wondered why she hadn’t done this before now. She’d forgotten it. Forgotten how much she loved it.
Her stride lengthened and her running shoes were virtually silent on the sand.
The fog that had shrouded her brain cleared. Her dark mood lifted.
Her mind focused on running and only running and it was a few minutes before she thought to glance over her shoulder, and realized she’d left her sister behind.
She turned and Jenna finally caught up with her.
“How can you be that fit when you’ve been sitting down for months?” She doubled over, panting. “I hate you.”
Lauren grinned. “I’ve done a lot of pacing.” She took a sip from her water bottle. “This was a great idea.”
“Glad you think so.” Jenna heaved air into her lungs. “I hate running. It’s boring.”
“Not when you run with someone.”
“Maybe not, but I wasn’t running ‘with’ you. I was in your slipstream.”
Lauren felt the wind feather her face and pull gently at her hair.
How was it almost May? It felt like yesterday that the police had knocked on the door, and yet it also felt like a lifetime ago. A different life.
The days had passed, hour by painful hour, and somehow while she’d been wrapped up in layers of wool and grief, the weather had become kinder. The wind had lost its bite and sunlight danced across the surface of the water. It was early spring, and the air was already filled with the promise of warmer months, of a lush hot summer, as if the Vineyard was stretching sleepily after a winter of hibernation.
Jenna stretched. “We should turn back or I’ll be late for school and my little monsters will be uncontrollable. I have to be ahead of the game.”
“You love it, don’t you?”
“Teaching? Yes. There’s nothing I’d rather do. Once I close that classroom door, everything in my world feels right.”
Lauren glanced along the beach in the direction she’d been running. Another twenty minutes and she’d be at the boathouse where Scott worked. “Would you hate going back without me?”
Jenna followed her gaze and smiled. “No. Go.”
“First tell me how you are.” She never knew whether to mention the baby or not. “How are things?”
“I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.” Jenna shrugged. “I need to get back.” She turned but Lauren grabbed her arm.
“Are things all right between you and Greg?”
“What do you mean?”
“The last few times you’ve come round to the house, you’ve come alone.”
Jenna shrugged her off and stooped to adjust her running shoes. “He’s busy, that’s all. And we’re working on the house, not socializing, so there didn’t seem much point in bringing him.”
“Right.” Was the whole baby issue creating a problem for them? Lauren made a note to pay closer attention to her sister. “Thank you for making me do this. I owe you.”
“This is just the beginning. Today a sedate run along the beach, tomorrow jumping off the Jaws Bridge.”
Lauren laughed. “It’s low tide, so no thanks. Let’s take it a step at a time.”
She watched her sister lope slowly back along the sand.
If she could have willed her to be pregnant, she would.
When she’d discovered she was expecting Mack, she’d felt nothing but terror. She’d felt desperately unready to be a mother.
Jenna was more than ready and she and Greg would make great parents.
As the sand grew softer and grainier, Lauren returned to the bike path and ran in the shade of the trees, her pace steady as she closed in on the marina.
By the time she arrived, she was out of breath herself.
And sweaty.
Great. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Scott was painting the underside of a boat, music playing in the background. The moment he saw her, he stopped what he was doing. The distance between them shrank to nothing until she could no longer hear the call of the seagulls or the background buzz of a drill. There was only the intense blue of his eyes, the insane pounding of her heart and the way he made her feel. It was as if some magnetic force connected them, able to pull them back together wherever they were.
He walked across to her, using the rag in his hands to wipe the oil from his fingers.
He was wearing faded Levi’s that molded to every muscle, and the sleeves of his shirt were pushed back to the elbows. She caught a glimpse of tanned throat and, thanks to a few open buttons, a hint of dark hair through the open neck. A sheen of sweat clung to his skin and the smudge of grease on his cheek made her think of war paint.
Sixteen years and he was still the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
Lauren felt a hot flush of guilt. She wasn’t supposed to find other men sexy, but it seemed her body hadn’t got that message. Sexual attraction was no respecter of social conventions.
Her mouth felt dry and her stomach dropped as if she’d missed her step.
How? How could there be anything left after so many years?
She didn’t understand it. She certainly didn’t want it.
He studied her for a long, lingering moment and then without shifting his gaze called to the teenager he had working alongside him. “Cal?”
“Yeah, boss.” The boy was there in an instant, eagerness and respect visible in his body language.
“Would you fetch us some coffee?”
Cal looked at him blankly. “Coffee?”
“Hot. Wet. Full of caffeine. You’ll know it when you see it.” Still holding the oily rag in one hand, Scott dug the other into his pocket and pulled out some notes. “Head to the Marina Café. It’s going to take you thirty minutes.”
Cal glanced at the office. “But there’s a kettle in the—”
“Marina Café. Thirty minutes.”
“Thirty—” Cal opened his mouth and closed it again. “Right, boss.” He took the notes from Scott and scampered off, leaving them alone.
Lauren felt ridiculously self-conscious. “You’ve taken on an apprentice?”
“He helps out from time to time.”
“Local boy?”
“Yes. Life hasn’t exactly gone his way lately.”
And he knew all about that of course. No one knew more about the challenges life could send than Scott. What she’d known about his past had broken her heart, and when she’d realized that his past was going to stop them having a future her heart had broken all over again.
“What happens when you move on again?”
“Who said I’m moving on?”
“It’s what you do.”
He rubbed at a stubborn stain on his fingers. “If that happens, then I guess he’ll have to find someone else to work alongside.”
“From the way he was looking at you, he thinks you’re a hero.”
His mouth curved. “We both know it won’t take him long to get over that.”
That smile still had the ability to cut her off at the knees. As a vulnerable eighteen-year-old his smile had made her feel special and it still did.
She shouldn’t have come. It was too hard, standing here in front of him as if he was no more than an acquaintance. As if there hadn’t once been a world of feelings between them.
They’d been good together. More than good.
Hope and possibilities had been spread like a feast in front of them, but instead of gorging themselves they’d walked away leaving all that potential untouched.
She’d tried hard to let him go and live the life she’d been given.
“The first time I saw you, you were running along the beach.”
She frowned. “The first time we saw each other was in the café. You came in that day and I was bussing tables.”
“I’d seen you before that,” he said. “I used to watch you run every morning. You were fast. And light on your feet. You ran like an athlete. This is the first time I’ve seen you run since you arrived home.”
“It felt good. I have Jenna to thank for it.” She saw him glance over her shoulder. “She turned back. She’s teaching. It’s a school day.”
He nodded. “How’s Mack?”
“Doing better, I think.” She wished she knew for sure, but she and Mack still hadn’t returned to their old relationship. Things were less tense, but Lauren had a feeling that was because Mack was spending most of her time at school or in her room.
“She’s smart. I’m glad she finally joined the Coding Club.”
“You know about that?”
“Yes. She said something about setting up a website for The Captain’s House so I suggested she join. It took her a while to find the courage. She was afraid of being teased.” He rubbed his fingers across his jaw. “She’s the only girl in the club, but she seems to be handling that.”
“You know a lot about what’s going on in her life.” The fact that Mack was telling him more than her own mother, hurt. “You’ve been seeing a lot of her?”
“Her cycle route home from school takes her past the boatyard. She calls in sometimes. You know that. After last time, I made sure she told you.”
“She said she was helping. I didn’t realize the two of you were having long, meaningful conversations.”
“Is that a problem?” He tucked the rag into the back pocket of his jeans while she struggled for a response.
“What do you want me to say? That it hurts my feelings that she’ll talk to you, when I’ve spent the last sixteen years caring for her and putting her first? Yes, it hurts. And I hate myself for that because I’m worried about her and as long as she is talking to someone that’s good.”
“But you’d rather it wasn’t me.”
“She recently lost someone she loved very much, even if she’s forgotten that right now.” She heard the edge in her own voice and hated herself for it. “What happens when she gets attached and then you move on again?”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
“I know you, Scott.”
He gave her a long look. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not today, but we both know you’ll move on at some point.”
“Maybe I won’t.”
There was no way she was going to allow herself to believe he might have changed. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“If that’s what you want.” His gaze held hers. “Now that the weather is warming up I thought I could take her sailing. Would you object to that?”
“No. If she wants to go on the boat, then you should take her.” She didn’t want to give Mack another reason to be angry with her, and it wasn’t as if she was worried about Mack’s safety. No one knew more about the sea than Scott.
“You could come, too.” Something in his tone made her heart rate pick up.
“No time. We’re working hard to get The Captain’s House ready for rental.” The moment she said it she felt like a coward.
They both knew her refusal wasn’t only because she was busy.
“How’s that going?”
“It’s a lot of work, but we’re getting there. We’re going to move in to the Sail Loft for the summer.”
“And you’re fine with that?”
She wasn’t fine with that. Every time she stepped onto that wretched path she imagined her father’s white, hairy buttocks pumping into some woman. It made her feel physically ill, but that wasn’t something she intended to tell her mother. There was a limit to how much sharing was appropriate.
She smiled, aware that it was a thin, unconvincing effort. “I’m fine with it.”
Scott didn’t return the smile. “Are you sure? Because you had quite a phobia about—”
“That was a long time ago. You cured me of that.” She interrupted him before Cal could arrive and the details of her sexual hang-ups could be broadcast around the island for everyone to chomp on. “And by the time I’ve finished with the place, it won’t look anything like it does now. Mom has cleared it out, but we haven’t started making it habitable. We need a new kitchen and a partition in the main bedroom.”
“I could build that kitchen for you.”
She’d rejected the idea when her sister had suggested it because she didn’t particularly want to be working in such close quarters with him, but now she realized that if he started work immediately he’d be finished before she was ready to begin work on the furnishings. “Would you have time?”
“I’d need to juggle a few things here but yes, I could do it.”
However mixed up she felt, she recognized the generosity in that gesture. “You’ve been kind to my mother. I haven’t thanked you for that.”
“I didn’t do it to earn your gratitude.”
“Why did you do it?” It was something she’d wondered about.
“She needed help.”
He had an affinity for people in trouble, she knew that. It was a trait that made it inconveniently hard to hate him.
She wondered why he hadn’t noticed she needed help when she found out she was pregnant.
“I’m glad you were there for her.” She paused. “There was so much I didn’t understand. So much I didn’t know. I wish she’d told us.”
“I guess most of us have things we prefer to keep to ourselves.”
She knew he kept plenty to himself. “I should go—”
“You’re looking better. You’ve put on a little weight since I saw you last.” His gaze shifted from her face to her body and she felt the atmosphere snap tight.
He hadn’t touched her, and yet her skin tingled with awareness.
“You’re telling me I’m fat?”
“No, but it’s good to know the wind isn’t going to blow you away. That first day at the ferry—I was worried about you.”
“I’d lost my husband, and my home.”
There was a long silence. “Was he good to you?” His tone was raw. “Did you love him?”
At eighteen she would have thought that question would have a yes or no answer. Now she knew differently.
There were so many different types of love. There was the love she felt for her child, so intense she knew she would die for her if necessary. Then there was the love she had for her sister, a bond so powerful that nothing would ever break it, and the love she had for her mother.
Her love for Scott had been something different again. Fiery, intense and all consuming, it had burned up everything else in its path. It was as if every feeling she was capable of had been channeled into that one relationship and when it blew apart she’d been empty.
She’d sleepwalked into marriage with Ed, grateful for the safety and security. She hadn’t loved him in the early stages because she hadn’t had a single emotion left to give beyond trust and friendship. Gradually she’d healed, and those feelings had deepened.
Her love for Ed had grown over time like a plant that had flourished when it was watered and tended. It wasn’t what she’d felt for Scott, but it had been what she needed. She’d had no wish to ever feel that depth and intensity of emotion again.
“I loved him.”
He pushed a strand of her hair back from her face, his fingers gentle. “You used to wear it loose.”
“I used to do a lot of things I don’t do now.” Like love you. “I have to go.”
“Why? What’s the hurry?” His gaze was steady. “What are you afraid of, Laurie?”
She almost laughed.
The answer to that could easily have been everything, and she realized she was tired of living with that feeling. She’d been afraid since the police had knocked on the door, since Mack had discovered who her father was, since she’d discovered there was no money. And maybe she’d even been afraid before that. Afraid that she wasn’t really living the life she could be living.
Either way, she was done with being afraid and that included being afraid to say the things she wanted to say. “At least I stand my ground when I’m scared. You walked away from fatherhood because you were afraid. Because your own childhood was so difficult, you were afraid you didn’t have the skills you needed. You were afraid you’d let her down. Screw her up. And I tried to understand that. I told myself you were being selfless, but over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that you weren’t being selfless, you were being selfish.” It felt good to say it. Good to stop making excuses for him, for pretending to accept something she’d never truly accepted.
She was aware of the beating of her heart and the soft lap of the water against the dock.
A seagull passed overheard with a shriek and a beating of wings.
It took Scott so long to respond she started to think he wasn’t going to and then finally he stirred.
“I came to that conclusion long before you did.”
It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “You were afraid to be a father, but I was scared, too, Scott. I was terrified, and you left me with it.”
Emotion flickered across his face.
He opened his mouth to say something and then his gaze shifted from her face to a point over her shoulder. “Cal is coming back.” There was frustration in his voice. “We need to take this conversation somewhere more private. My boat is on the water.”
“You’re inviting me sailing? Now?”
“Yes. There are things I need to say to you.”
For a moment she yearned for it. For being back on the water, feeling the roll of the boat as it skimmed the ocean, the wind in her hair, the freedom. And Scott, with his hat tugged down over his eyes and his legs braced against the roll of the boat. Sailing would mean being on the boat with him. Just the two of them.
That wasn’t going to happen. Being close to him made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, and nothing he said was going to change the past.
“We can’t turn the clock back, Scott. We can’t undo what was done.”
“No, but we can move forward. If it helps your decision making, I promise not to put my hands on you.”
She still remembered exactly how it had felt when he put his hands on her.
It made her legs weaken to think of it.
Her gaze met his and the tension in the air almost suffocated her.
Then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and Cal approached. She thought that this was not the conversation to be having when they were about to be interrupted, and then realized that what she should be thinking was that they shouldn’t be having this conversation at all.
What was she thinking?
“My husband died, Scott. And whether you believe it or not, I loved him.”
Before he could respond, Cal approached carrying two coffees.
“Er—here.” He handed them both to Scott, flashed a quick smile to Lauren and vanished back to the boat out of earshot.
Scott handed her one of the coffees. “If you change your mind about sailing, let me know.”
She felt temptation tug at her and settled her feet more firmly on the ground.
The tension in the atmosphere had lessened and she felt back in control.
“I won’t be changing my mind.”
“You never used to be afraid of your emotions.”
“We both know that my emotions only ever got me into trouble.” Still holding the coffee, she turned and walked back toward the beach.