Chapter 25

 

Derek and Jane had the kind of security you’d expect from a couple worth a few hundred million dollars. Ry was big on security too, but he didn’t relish the idea of living behind seven-foot walls and a big-ass metal gate.

After Jane buzzed him through, he strolled up the tree-shaded walk to the big stone house overlooking the bay. It was three days since he’d played the set with Claire at the Dory, and he was still thinking about her all the time. When Sam jumped in with her out-there comments, it had hit him the wrong way and hit him hard. It was like his sister had picked up on how things should be, not how they actually were. Like he and Claire should be together, and not just to play music once in while.

That was no excuse for taking his confusion out on Claire. He’d pretty much acted like a first-class asshat, and he needed to make things right with her.

Another bout of emptiness had crashed down on him yesterday after Sam left for Portland. He should have been riding a high after reconnecting with his sister, and yet he felt hollow inside. Even Stanley’s enthusiastic company hadn’t been enough to lift his dark mood.

Derek was waiting for him at the massive oak front door and ushered him inside. As Ry shook hands with his buddy, Jane hurried down the curved staircase.

“You are absolutely certifiable, Ryder Griffin,” Jane said, frowning. “Derek and I watched the video of that horrid crash in New Hampshire. One of the other bikes almost decapitated you, for heaven’s sake.” She hugged him carefully, as if he might break if she squeezed too hard. “That was a ridiculously close call, and don’t even try to deny it.”

“Close only counts in horseshoes,” Ry said. “I came out of it just fine, didn’t I?”

She gave him a little jab in the side. “Well, you survived anyway, tough guy. Poor Claire must have been frantic with worry. It was awful that she had to see you smash up like that.”

Ry barely managed to hold back a guilty wince.

He’d told Derek on the phone that Claire had gone with him to the race. But he hadn’t come over today to rehash the crash or his injuries. He just wanted to see his friends on their return from their honeymoon. Plus he wanted to show them the architect’s latest sketches and get their opinion.

“I’ve brought the sketches.” He held up the folder he’d brought with him.

Jane crossed her arms and gave him the look. “So, that’s how we’re going to play it, are we?”

“Ah, the sketches,” Derek said pointedly, taking them from Ry. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing them.”

Jane muttered something under her breath, but thankfully she capitulated. “Fine, but how about coffee first?”

“I won’t say no to that,” Ry said.

Jane led them back to their spectacular kitchen with its acres of granite and super high-end appliances. She quickly poured three cups from a brewing apparatus that looked more like a computer than a coffee pot. They sat down at the circular glass table in an alcove that afforded a view of the bay that was every bit as breathtaking as Ry’s. Derek laid out the sketches, and each of them grabbed hold of a different elevation.

“I think these modern lines are a nice contrast to the more traditional houses like ours,” Derek said. “How many square feet are we talking about here?”

“Ten thousand or so.” Ry glanced at the sketch Derek held, feeling little enthusiasm for it.

Jane seemed to be studying him, not the drawings. “Clearly, these are not ringing your bells, Ry.”

Derek gave a little snort. “Honey, Ry gets excited about fast bikes and big engines, not house plans.”

Ry forced a smile. “You guys think the PIHA would be okay with something like this?”

The board of the homeowners’ association had the power to reject the proposed design of any home or renovation on Promise Island.

“I would think so,” Derek said. “I can talk to Carling if there’s an issue.”

“That woman is probably ready to shoot me about now.”

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, I heard you pissed off a few folks the day the townies blocked the bridge.”

“I just did what I thought was right. Most of the locals here have bent over backward to accept us CFAs. Putting up a gate now would be a slap in the face to them.”

“I agree,” Jane said. “We’ve got enough walls around here already.”

“Sweetheart,” Derek said, “you know the paps and the tourists are getting to be a bigger pain in the ass every day.”

Jane scoffed. “Sure, but the paparazzi will get on the island no matter what we do, even if they have to rock-climb up the bluffs. The extra bit of security we’d get from a gate wouldn’t compensate for alienating all the great people in Brides Bay. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

Derek gave his wife a wry, loving smile. “I get the feeling I’m fighting a losing battle on this one.”

“Jane, could you talk to some of the other homeowners?” Ry asked. “If you can convince this guy, you can convince anybody.”

“Absolutely. I intend to do just that, and I hope you two will back me up.” She shot Derek a stern look.

“Count on it,” Ry said.

Derek held up his hands in surrender.

“Now, to get back to these sketches,” Jane said, “am I right in guessing that you’re no longer sure you even want to go ahead with this?”

Ry just shrugged. His head was telling him he needed to go ahead with the project, but his gut was sending a different message.

“I’m sure the architect can come up with plenty of other options,” Derek said.

Jane rolled her eyes. “What I meant, my dense darling husband, was that I don’t think Ry wants to build any new house.”

“Really? Is that right?” Derek gave Ry a look of incredulity. “Like I told you, with the right house on that prime piece of land, it’ll be worth a fortune in no time.”

“Derek, the right house doesn’t have to be some monster house,” Jane said.

Ry smiled. “Should I step outside while you two sort this out for me?”

“You know you need to do something major if you’re going to unlock the value on that property,” Derek said, ignoring Ry’s jest. “That’s what sold you on buying here on the island, remember? I told you it had the potential to make you a ton of money.”

“Yeah, I know. Your job is to give me that kind of advice,” Ry said. “And I always appreciate it.”

“I’m not just telling you that as a client, but as a good friend.”

“I know that, man, but I figure Jane’s right.”

“Right about what?”

“He’s having second thoughts about the house because of Claire,” Jane interjected.

Ry let out a sigh. “Does every woman in my life know what’s going on in my head these days?”

Jane patted his hand. “Don’t feel bad, sweetie. Generally speaking, women are just a lot smarter than men.”

“Okay, guys, hold up,” Derek said. “If Claire is putting pressure on you to keep that dump, she really needs to get a grip on reality.”

When Jane started to protest, Ry held up his hand. “She isn’t pressuring me. And the place isn’t a dump. It’s actually growing on me.”

“Like the mildew that’s growing in that ancient kitchen?” Derek said drily.

Jane balled up a napkin and threw it at him. “You can be such a jerk,” she said when her husband gave her an unrepentant grin.

“You obviously think it would be dumb, but would you be pissed off if I left the house more or less as it is?” Ry asked Derek. “I know it’s not great for your property value to have a place like mine next door. But the more I think about building some monster house…” He nodded at the sketches. “Hell, it just wouldn’t be me. I’m a just a regular guy from small town Minnesota. I don’t need anything too big and fancy. I don’t want it either.”

Derek looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Well, my advice is that you should think long and hard—”

“Of course, we wouldn’t be pissed off,” Jane said, cutting off her husband’s reply. “Absolutely not. It’s your home, and you should do whatever you want with it. And most of all, you should do what your heart tells you, not your pocketbook. That old house is full of character, and I’m sure you could do wonders with it through appropriate and creative renovations.”

“Yeah, but…” Derek sputtered.

“No buts, sweetheart,” Jane said. She stood up and moved behind her husband, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I can see I have a little more work to do to get my husband finally convinced that money isn’t everything.” She kissed the top of Derek’s head and then glanced at Ry, her eyes narrowing. “I ran into Claire at the supermarket yesterday. She didn’t say much, but I could tell she was still down about what happened that weekend at the races. Now, I don’t want to butt in—”

“Sure you do,” Derek said with a lopsided grin.

“As I was saying, I don’t want to butt in, but I could tell that you and Claire were going to be good for each other from the first moment you met. I know chemistry when I see it, and you two have it in spades, diamonds, clubs, and hearts. If keeping that old house can help smooth things over between you, then that’s exactly what you should do. I’m serious, dude. Claire is a keeper—surely you must know that by now.”

“Keeper? Honey, she’s a person, not a lobster,” Derek said playfully, referring to the term lobstermen use for a legal-sized crustacean.

“Oh, shush, funny man.” His wife smacked him on the shoulder. “And as for you, Ryder Griffin,” she said, pointing at him, “you’d better not mess this up or you’ll be sorry.”

“Uh, thanks.” Ry was still taken aback by her ballsy intervention.

He was used to Derek and Jane watching out for him, but they’d never seriously discussed his romantic life before. It was weird to see them arguing over how he should handle the situation with Claire. He just sat there listening, too embarrassed to say anything more.

It was kind of cool to have people who cared enough about you to argue over who had the best advice—not just for your house but, strangely enough, for your love life too.

* * *

Once a week, Claire made a special lunch for her mother. The main was usually something like vegetarian pasta, using the most exotic ingredients she could find in town. Mom reciprocated by putting on a big Sunday feast, much like she’d cooked all those years ago when their family had still been together. Some of the meals had been pretty lean back then, but her mother had always made everything with love. Claire was happy and proud that Brides Bay Concierges was now doing well enough that she could keep her mother’s freezer stocked with quality food.

Today’s lunch menu featured lobster that had been hauled by her pal Colton Pierce and delivered to her door fresh this morning. She’d opened a bottle of her mom’s favorite white wine, and they’d already had a glass as they puttered around in the tight kitchen area. While Claire hardly ever drank at lunch, she’d decided she deserved a treat. This week had been a total bear.

“Have you seen Ry lately?” her mother asked in her usual mom-nosy fashion. “I heard from Maisie that he showed up at the Dory the other night with a young blonde in tow. Obviously another CFA.”

“That was his sister, Mom. His stepsister, actually.”

Her mother broke into a relieved smile. “Oh well, then. It’s nice that she would visit him, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure he was thrilled.” Not with Claire though. That much had been clear.

“When do you think you might see him again?” Mom leaned back against the counter after she’d finished peeling a couple of zucchini for the salad. “At the very least you’ll be taking care of his place when he’s gone, right?”

Claire had been resisting her mom’s persistent questions about Ry ever since they got back from the New Hampshire race. That would end now though.  There was no way she was going to get through this meal without a grilling. All her mother knew so far was that the race weekend had not gone well on either the relationship or the racing front.

“He’s got another race next weekend, so I’ll be staying over and taking care of Stanley.”

And wasn’t that going to be a blast? She could mope about the loss of both her old house and her almost boyfriend.

Oh, get over yourself, Claire.

In fact, what she planned on doing was painting a couple of views of the house. That way she’d have some mementos after Ry knocked it down.

“Well, at least you didn’t blow up your working relationship with him,” her mother said. “That’s something, I suppose.”

Claire sighed as she dried her hands on her apron. “Gee, thanks for the support, Mom.”

Her mother reached across and gave her a one-armed hug. “Come on, you know I’ll always have your back. But this…this thing you’ve got…” She shook her head. “Claire, if you keep letting it stand in your way, you’re on the road to ending up a sad old lady like me.”

“You a sad old lady? Give me a break. You’re happy as a clam, and every man in town over forty thinks you’re a total hottie. Some of the younger ones do too, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Really, such an exaggeration. But even if that were true, it’s hardly the point, dear daughter.”

“I’m well aware of the point, dear mother. You’ve made it about two hundred times since I moved back home.”

“Yet apparently it still hasn’t sunk in.”

Claire felt brutally close to the breaking point. There was nothing Mom or anyone else could tell her that she hadn’t already told herself dozens of times. She didn’t want to snap at her mother, so she remained tight-lipped.

Both women stayed silent as Claire retrieved the pair of lobsters from the freezer and dunked them head first into the pot of boiling water. Then she arranged them on the bottom, covered the pot, and turned the heat down.

“I know it was the crash that did it,” her mom finally said. “That was such a shame. I was so happy when you found the courage to go to that race with Ry. I thought you cared enough about him to accept that what he was doing was a little risky. Or at least you were ready to give it an honest try.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly what I did.”

“But then the accident brought all those old memories about Julie and your father back—and in the most awful, vivid way. That’s so obvious, Claire.” Her mother’s eyes were full of sympathy. “Believe me, I understand what seeing that crash unfold must have done to you. To see the man you care about carted off in an ambulance—well, of course it was terrible.”

“Terrible? It was an absolute nightmare. I still can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You can’t stop thinking about him, you mean.”

Claire gave her weak smile. “Yep, I’m as bad as some sad sack, lovesick teenager obsessing about the boyfriend who dumped her.”

“Technically, you dumped him, but that’s beside the point. The question now is what are you going to do about it? And don’t tell me it’s too late. Because in my world, it’s never too late.”

Claire supposed that was true, since her mom had an active dating life that she clearly enjoyed, despite her comment about being a sad old lady.

“What am I going to do about it?” she said. “What more am I supposed to do? Just wish the problem away? You of all people know everything I’ve done—how hard I’ve tried. I’ve taken anti-anxiety meds. I’ve had expensive therapy. I even moved back to Brides Bay to get away from the city and the memories. But I still can’t handle the idea of…” She started to choke up.

“Of losing someone else you love,” her mother finished. “Because you love Ry Griffin, don’t you, sweetheart? You hate what he does, but you’re madly in love with the man. From the beginning, I saw how good you two were together. It was so obvious.”

Claire shrugged. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, is it? Things couldn’t possibly work out between Ry and me. For one thing, how could he live with someone who can’t accept him just the way he is?”

“Look, I’m not going to tell you I was just like you—you know that wasn’t the case. But I did worry about your father every time he went out in his boat. Every single time, Claire. I knew all too well what the risks were…the risks he was choosing to take. And yes, they scared me half to death. But I learned to live with them, because I loved Ben so much. Can’t you bend a bit for the man you love too?”

Her mother had somehow managed to control her fears. Claire wished she could find the same courage.

“Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to see your father off to his mooring every morning,” Mom went on when Claire, too wrapped up in her thoughts, didn’t respond. “In anything short of pea soup fog or a tropical gale, he’d be on the bay—and often far out in the ocean after the lobsters moved offshore. Even as a little girl I was all too aware of the dangers of lobster fishing. Your grandma thought I was touched in the head to even think about marrying a bug catcher like Ben Maddox.”

Claire had to chuckle. “I think that had more to do with Daddy being the town hellion than a lobster fisherman.”

“Yes, your father was a risk-taker in just about every way,” her mother said, her blue eyes soft with memories. “But he was also smart, handsome, and so much fun. It always seemed a miracle that he picked me, when he could have had just about any girl in Brides Bay. Even after we were married, I thought it was all incredibly exciting and wonderful. Every day was an adventure because of Ben. But then you girls came along, and we both realized it was time to grow up.”

“But Daddy never really changed that much,” Claire protested. “Not that I saw anyway.”

She had vivid memories of her dad tearing around the bay in his souped-up skiff. While her sister had loved to ride with him, Claire had refused to go again after he took her and a couple of her friends for a harrowing jaunt through waves that might have capsized the boat in the hands of a less skilled sailor. She’d never forget kneeling at the gunwale and tossing her cookies in the bay.

Her mom wagged a finger. “Your take on your father has always been colored by the tragic way he died. The truth is he changed a lot because of you and Katie. He gave up most of his bad habits, like drinking too much and driving too fast.”

“I know, but you could never stop him taking unnecessary risks out on the water. Nobody could.” When she hit her early teens, Claire had started to regularly plead with her dad to give up fishing. But he would simply pat her head and tell her he’d be fine. That he’d always be fine.

And he was, until the day he wasn’t.

With a mental jolt, Claire realized that all these years later she was still angry with her father for breaking those promises to her. It was a decidedly uncomfortable revelation. How could she remain so angry with the man she’d always adored?

Her mother shook her head, unaware of the mini-revolution going on inside her daughter’s head.

“No, he couldn’t change how he made his living,” Mom said. “Wouldn’t change. Ben only knew one way to fish lobster—flat out. There was nothing I could do about that, so what was I supposed to do? Leave him?” She gave a little snort. “Like that was ever going to happen. I’d have died first. So, when it came down to it, I just had to accept him the way he was and always would be.”

“He used to say he lived for fishing,” Claire said. “For a fast lobster boat and a good salt wind off a gentle sea.”

“That was what your father needed to be happy. It was who he was, and it made him the man I loved. The man I wanted to spend my life with and the man who would father my children.” Her smile held a lifetime of wisdom, sadness, and joy. “He went way too soon, my darling daughter, and that made life really hard for us for a very long time. But I don’t regret one single minute I spent with him.”

Claire thought about her mother’s words, trying hard to hear them without the filter of ramped up emotions.

“Ry’s like Dad in a lot of ways,” she finally said. “Hardheaded. Stubborn. A little arrogant.”

Her mom nodded. “I can see that. Your father was hardheaded, but he was also strong and exciting and brave. Life was never boring with him around. And I’m pretty sure life with your hockey star would be anything but boring too.”

“Yes, but I’d have preferred to have a boring father who was still with us than an exciting one who’s in his grave.”

The look at her mother’s face brought Claire up short. How could I have said something that awful?

“Oh God, I’m sorry, Mom. That was an awful thing to say.” She hugged her mother like she had when she was a little girl—fiercely, like she would never let her go.

Her mother returned the hug but then stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Claire, life is what it is. People can change, but sometimes not as much as you want them to. So you either have to accept them or walk away. And if you walk away, you have to take the consequences, including the walls that might go up around your heart. You know walls are never a good thing. You spent quite a bit of time trying to convince Ry of that, did you not?”

“Oh, well played, Mom,” Claire said wryly. “Yes, I did.”

Her mother chucked her under the chin, like she used to do when Claire was a child. “Thank you for being honest about that. Now, if you care as much about that man as I think you do, you’re going to have to decide if he’s worth taking some risks.”

“Just like you did.” Claire eased out of her mother’s grasp and went to the stove. A couple of more minutes and the lobsters would be ready. “I get it. I really do. The thing is, I just don’t know if I have as much courage in me as you did.” She grimaced. “You know I’m a wimp.”

“Stop that nonsense. You’re incredibly brave. Look at the way you put your life back together after the accident. You just have to want it bad enough. Do you want it bad enough, Claire?”

Of course she did. As much as she wanted Julie and her father alive and standing before her right now. That was impossible, of course, but Ry…well, he seemed very much possible.

If she had the courage to do something about it.

That’s a big if, sister.

“Well, yeah,” she said, trying to lighten things up. “Ry would be a spectacular catch, seeing as he’s rich and all.”

“As if you would care about that.” Then her mom smiled, looking a bit misty. “Wouldn’t you just love to have a wedding at the old house, in a big tent overlooking the bluffs? Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

Amazing was the word for it. And scary too, because she would have to be the one to change if she had any hope of finding that kind of happy ending. And she truly didn’t know if she had it in her.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Mom. That’s putting the cart so far in front of the horse that the poor animal would need binoculars to spot it.”

Her mother gave her a smug smile. “You’ll never get anywhere with negative thinking, sweetheart. Now, do you think Ry would like my roast beef? I do believe I’d like to ask him for Sunday dinner.”

Claire sighed, knowing her chances with Ry were slim to none unless she did something drastic. Too bad she didn’t yet have a clue as to what that something was.