The Things We Knew (12 page)

L
ynette backed off and studied the piece she'd created just before dawn.

The scene still didn't make any sense.

The painting took her mind places she didn't want to go. Pushed questions toward her she could neither comprehend nor contemplate.

She reached for the bedsheet with a trembling hand and covered it up.

Trying to remember the past through her paintings wasn't doing any good. It was only giving her more nightmares, more to worry about.

She left the art studio and took the dogs for a walk. As she trudged along the beach, she thanked God the week was over. It had been a long one, dealing with Gray and Victoria, playing referee when Cecily was around. Gray's friend was hardly amenable, and Cecily had already voiced strong opinions about her being here.

Lynette picked her way around patches of brown seaweed, discarded rope, and the odd dead fish. The dogs raced ahead, chasing sea gulls and each other, stopping now and again when they picked up a scent. Off in the distance a long white coast guard ship made its way around the island. Their beach was private, tourist free, providing the peace she needed.

Peace that never lasted long.

She hoped the sea air would rid her mind of last night's dream.

It was like all the others, but more intense. And vivid. Her mother was trying to tell her something, but as usual, Lynette woke before she heard the words.

A shell poked out of the sand, and she wandered over to retrieve it. The top was green and slimy and covered in moss, but when she flipped it over, a kaleidoscope of pearly pink, blue, and gray shimmered in the sunshine and spoke of hope. But that feeling never lasted. Even now, dark clouds gathered along the horizon, threatening to put the sun back to bed.

“Good morning, Lynette.”

Lynette pocketed the shell and looked up. Anthony Cooper strode down the beach toward her. She stiffened, but waved a hand in greeting. “Hi, Mr. Cooper.”

The dogs circled her legs and began to growl. “Stop that.” She pushed them off, but they wouldn't budge. They stopped growling at least and sat at her feet.

“Doesn't look like we're going to see much of that sun today.” He took off his sunglasses, tipped his head toward the mass of dark clouds.

“I guess not.” A rainy day might afford more time for another painting. One she could actually sell this time. Lynette shrugged. “At least it's Saturday. Don't have to worry about going anywhere.” In summer she rarely left the house unless she had to.

“True.” His blue eyes were so like Nick's, but without the warmth. His smile seemed plastered on, no life behind it. And he looked thin, almost gaunt. “I thought I heard some noise last weekend over at your place. Cars coming and going, dogs barking? I hope there wasn't trouble.”

Nerves pelted the pit of her stomach but she managed to meet his inquiring gaze. “No trouble. Gray's home. We had some local press poking around.” Sudden fear seized her. “If they come to you . . .”

He gave a small smile. “Gray who?”

Lynette smiled back, but his expression made her uneasy.

Anthony fiddled with his watch, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I hear you're putting the house on the market. I think it's a sound decision, Lynette, under the circumstances.”

She watched the wind whip up the waves, white surf churning. Her stomach was starting to do the same. “Circumstances?”

“Financial of course. And then there's your father . . .”

His air of nonchalance rankled her. “My father will—” What? Be fine?

He drew thick brows together and stroked his chin. “I'm sorry. It must be difficult. Alzheimer's, is it?”

Defeat gained a little more ground. “We haven't made a decision about the house yet. My brother and sister arrive today.” Part of her wasn't ready to face Liz or David and all their questions.

Wasn't ready to accept the truth.

“I realize this must be overwhelming for you, dear, but I really think selling is—”

“I already talked to Nick. I know.” She almost wanted to apologize for her sharp reply. “My family and I will figure it out.”

“You know . . .” He turned to look at the ocean. “I happen to know some very influential people, investors. They've been looking at property in the area. If you want to—”

“Nick told me that too.” Lynette tried to keep her voice steady.

He glanced her way, stone-faced. “Don't take too much time. Tell David to come to see me, won't you? We can discuss things. I'd love to help.”

The lack of sincerity in his eyes scared her a little. The darkening sky threw down the first few drops of rain. “Thanks, Mr. Cooper.” She wasn't sure he deserved her thanks, but didn't know what else to say.

“Best find shelter before it gets any worse.” He gave her arm a squeeze, turned, and strode off toward his house. Lynette had to grab both dogs to prevent them from chasing after him. Her heart
thudded as she caught sight of Nick charging down the steps that led up to the Cooperage.

Their raised voices were captured by the wind and tossed into the stormy sea. Lynette turned and headed home. She didn't want to know what they argued over. She had enough trouble of her own.

“Lynette, wait!” Nick's voice caught up with her just before he did. The dogs changed direction and greeted him with excited barks, tails wagging. Lynette pressed on against the wind, blowing sand and rain.

Nick jogged beside her and grabbed her arm. “Hey, wait up.”

“Leave me alone, Nick.” She shook him off and kept walking, wet sand infiltrating the tops of her worn sneakers. He moved around her, and she had no choice but to come to a standstill as he put his hands around her wrists.

“What did he say to you?” The concern on his face and the intensity of his gaze rendered her motionless. But anger won out and she struggled free from his grip.

“Nothing you haven't already. Oh, and thanks for spreading the news. Who else have you told?”

Nick's eyes narrowed, tinged with confusion. “Told what?”

“That my father has Alzheimer's. He's forgetting his life, but he doesn't need everyone knowing it.” She pushed past him and stalked toward the set of rickety wooden stairs that led up to their house.

“Lynette!” Nick blocked her path again. “I never said anything to my dad about your father. Maybe he heard it somewhere else, but it wasn't from me.”

Lynette clutched her elbows and shivered. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning slashed through the sky. Fear pushed her toward the house. “I'm going inside.”

Nick put his hands on her shoulders. “Not until you say you believe me.”

“What does it matter?” Salt stung her eyes and cheeks as the wind slapped her hair around her face.

“It matters to me.”

His eyes pierced her and she couldn't look away.

“I'm on your side. I need you to believe that.”

“Nick . . .” She gave up the fight and let the tears come. “I don't know if I can do this. I don't think I can cope anymore.” The words choked her, bringing with them inexplicable sorrow and grief she'd never acknowledged.

Not out loud.

“Oh, Lynnie.” Nick moved closer and slid his hands around her face. The warmth of his touch penetrated her cold skin; she shivered. “What can I do?”

“I don't know,” she whispered. The thing she feared most stepped out of the shadows, looming bigger and darker than the clouds above them, daring her to pay it homage.

“You're shaking.” Nick rubbed her arms and pulled her closer.

“I don't like storms.” It was impossible to explain such an irrational fear so she didn't bother. Lynette met Nick's eyes and knew she had to trust him. There was no one else. “If I tell you something . . . will you just . . . don't think I'm crazy.”

“I don't think you're crazy.” He looked like he meant it, but he'd be taking back those words.

“I . . . have these dreams. Well, just one. It's always the same. About my mother. She's trying to tell me something. I think . . . about the day she died . . . because I can't remember.”

“What do you mean?” He stared at her as though trying to unlock all her secrets.

“I mean . . . I can't remember what happened that day. I wish I could.”

“You don't remember?” He gently brushed her wet hair off her face. “Anything?”

“Only bits and pieces, but they're so hazy it doesn't feel like they're really memories at all.”

He squeezed her hands, the corners of his mouth taking a
downward detour. “You were just a kid. They said her death was an accident, right?”

“What if it wasn't? What if there's more to it?”

His eyes widened and clouded over. “Like what?”

Silence stretched between them, broken by another rumble of thunder that made her pulse skip several beats.

“I don't know.” Tears stung as last night's vision played out in her mind. And the sound of her mother's scream still rang in her ears. “I'm scared, Nick.”

He folded her against him and held tight, like he could squeeze out all the pain. Like he could get rid of all the mysteries from the past, waiting to strike.

“It's okay, Lynnie.” Nick's words hummed in her ear. “You're not alone. I'm here. I want to help you.”

She pulled back and shook her head. “Why?”

Nick's smile hinted at things she didn't dare hope were real. “Because I always have.”

“Yes. You have.” Lynette felt a sweet sensation pool in the pit of her stomach.

She'd been in this place before, wrapped in his arms, wishing for the impossible. It had happened once, on that night so many years ago.

It wasn't likely to happen twice.

Something in his eyes—confusion, temptation, she didn't know what—stalled the moment. A sigh slipped from his lips. He ran the back of his hand down her cheek, cupped her chin, and brought his face inches from hers. And as insane as it was, Lynette swore he was about to kiss her.

Nick hesitated, as though he hadn't quite made up his mind. What was even more insane was that she wanted him to. Maybe even more than she had the first time it happened.

“Oh, please.” Her sister's voice sliced the air and pushed them apart.

Nick stepped back, looking a little stunned.

There was nothing she could do, no way to stop time and turn back the clock to see how the moment might have played out.

She moved away from Nick and looked upward.

Gray stood at the top of the steps, Liz and David behind him.

“You're early!” Lynette waved, tried to smile.

“We wanted to get here before the storm,” David called down, yanking the zip of his yellow Helly Hanson slicker. “They're stopping the ferries for a bit. Come on up here!”

“I'm coming!” Rain fell harder, accompanied by another round of thunder.

Nick put a hand on her shoulder. “I'll call you later. I should go.”

“Get your hands off my sister, Cooper.” Gray moved toward them, but David grabbed his arm.

“Grayson, not now.” He spoke in the same tone she'd heard Dad use a million times.

Gray shook free of David's grasp, his mouth twisted in a sneer. “What? Don't you want to protect your little sister from the likes of him? He'll use her and toss her out like yesterday's newspaper. Trust me, I—”

“All right, that's it.” Nick let out a muted curse and took the stairs two at a time.

“Nick, don't.” Lynette tried to stop him but he was too fast.

“Oh, here we go. Now we're cooking with gas.” Gray shuffled down two more steps, looking anything but menacing huddled under the old Patriots blanket that had covered his bed for decades. “Coming after me, Coop? Come on then.”

Another round of thunder boomed, closer this time, and the dogs ran for the house. Lynette wished she could go with them.

David sidestepped Gray and put out a hand. “Nick, stay where you are.” He looked back over his shoulder at Gray. “Knock it off. What's wrong with you?”

“He's asking for it, he—” The rest of whatever Gray said got drowned out by another shriek from Liz.

“Save it, you idiots. I'm getting soaked! Lynette, get your butt up here!”

Lynette pulled her hood over her head and ran past Nick. “Why are you all outside anyway?”

“Looking for you!” Liz shivered and pulled her jacket around her shoulders. “Dad's gone mental and locked us out of the house!”

“He what?” Lynette shouted above the storm as they all ran toward the back patio, racing around rocks and the squishy patches that formed on the lawn whenever it rained. They huddled together as she tried the sliding glass door outside the kitchen. Sure enough, it was locked. All the doors were. “Where is he? What happened?”

David sighed and shook his head, sending water everywhere. “We let ourselves in. He was in the living room. I guess we scared him. He shot out of his chair and started threatening us. He . . . uh . . .” His dark eyes grew misty and his voice got thick. “He didn't know who we were, Lynnie.”

“So why are
you
out here?” Lynette focused on Gray, who was still watching Nick, eyes filled with venom. A snake about to strike. Victoria had borrowed her car earlier to go into town; she had thought Gray was with her.

“I was having a smoke. I heard the ruckus, went around front, and there they were. Pops wouldn't listen to me either. You . . . don't think he saved any ammunition for those old guns he has, do you?”

“Oh wonderful.” Liz shook her head and tapped a pointy-toed boot. “Lynette, don't just stand there gaping, do something!”

“Stop yelling at me, Liz.” Typical. Home less than ten minutes and Lynette was already annoyed with her. “I'll go around and see if he's still in the front room.” And bash the door down if she had to.