The Things We Knew (15 page)

“Maybe.” They were always hiring at Walmart. “Lynnie doesn't want to sell, does she?” Since he'd been back, his little sister seemed to be giving him a wide berth. He wasn't sure why, whether it had to do with everything he'd been through or his reaction to seeing Cooper. He suspected it was the latter.

Liz snorted and threw the pen down. It bounced off the desk and landed near his feet. “Lynette is thinking with her heart, not her head. She doesn't see the big picture, Gray. She has no concept of reality.”

“Must be nice.”

“Going through life wearing rose-colored glasses? I don't think so.”

A hollow laugh escaped. “Seems to work for her. I'm willing to give it a shot.” His eyes came to rest on the large family Bible in the bookcase. Passed down through generations, he wondered when any of them had last looked at it. “Lynnie's got more faith than the rest of us put together. Well, except maybe Ryan. Could be they're onto something with this Jesus thing, huh?”

Lately, in the early hours when he couldn't sleep, his thoughts drifted toward things he'd learned as a child. Faith. Mercy. Grace. Things he'd forgotten until recently. He wasn't entirely sure he was a candidate for forgiveness from the Almighty, but he'd been contemplating asking for it.

Liz's sigh scratched close to irritation. “Religion is a crutch, Gray.
Do you really believe there's some higher being up there controlling all this? Someone who actually cares what we do?”

“I hope so.” If God wasn't real, he didn't have a whole lot left to hold on to. “Lynnie sure believes it. Why are you so hard on her?”

His sister swiveled the leather wingback to face their mother's portrait. “I don't know. I suppose I feel responsible for her.”

“She's not a kid anymore, Liz. You need to lighten up.”

“I need to lighten up? You haven't exactly been Mr. Congeniality lately.”

Liz was right, as usual.

“I know. But I'm feeling better today.” Gray flexed his stiff shoulders. A two-hour massage would be heaven. He could just imagine Tori's face if he asked for one. “For the first time in a long while, I feel almost . . . normal.”

Liz laughed. She really was quite pretty when she wasn't scowling. “Should I alert the press?”

“Let's keep it between us for now.” He rubbed the ring on his thumb and pondered his next question. “Did you ever wonder . . . what really happened the day Mom died?”

She snapped her head up and stared. “We know what happened. Dad told us.”

Gray gnawed his bottom lip and shook his head. “He said they were arguing and she tripped and fell down the stairs. But what were they arguing about?”

“I don't know.” Her voice got a little squeaky. “Why don't you go ask Dad? I'm sure he'd love to chat about it.”

Gray had thought about it—thought about coming out here and confronting the old man—many times over the last few years. And now it was too late. “Does David know? He was home from college that weekend, right?”

“He had the flu. He was sound asleep at the other end of the third floor.”

“What about Lynnie?”

Liz sat forward and glared. “Lynnie was twelve years old. She doesn't know anything.”

“Didn't you think it was strange, though . . . I mean, she was so quiet after the funeral and everything. Didn't really speak for a long time. She—”

“She was in shock! We all were. Do I need to remind you what Dad was like? He was probably in one of his drunken rages and pushed Mom down the stairs for all we know.”

A shiver raced through him, made him a little dizzy. “Is that what you believe? You and David? Really?” He'd mulled over that scenario as well, but it didn't make sense. For all his faults, Pops never got physical with anyone, and he never would have done a thing to hurt their mother.

Liz pressed her fingers down on the desk. “Leave it alone, Gray. And don't you dare go asking Lynnie about it.”

“Yeah, okay.” He would leave it alone. For now. “Well, I guess we'll get on with things. Think I'll paint the shutters today.”

“Good. You and Davy knock yourselves out.” Liz fired up her laptop again and put on her business face. “If you want to be useful, Grayson, go make us a pot of coffee. Real coffee, please. Not that stuff your girlfriend was serving this morning.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

“No?” Liz raised a thin eyebrow. “That statement smacks of regret, baby brother.”

“Life's full of regrets, Liz.”

Liz smiled then. A real smile, the one she rarely used. At least when he was around.

“What?” He almost didn't want to know.

“Oh, nothing.” Her gaze returned to the screen. “You'll figure it all out, Gray. You're smarter than you look.”

A
fter that last altercation with his father on the weekend, Nick took Monday off and went to New York. It was time he confronted Mindy.

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and waited for the crosswalk light to change. The city hummed in the summer heat. Sweat slid down his neck, and he batted away a waft of cigarette smoke from the woman in front of him. A couple of guys on the corner passed out fliers advertising a concert, reggae music blasting from the speakers of their stereo. Horns blared in a tune of their own, impatient drivers stuck in slow-moving traffic. After spending so much time on Nantucket, the crowded streets, noise, and city smog bothered him.

He crossed the busy intersection and headed toward Broadway. A few blocks later he took the elevator up to the photographer's studio. Two girls standing near the door recognized him and nodded in greeting. The loft was a beehive of activity, lit with studio lights, loud music shaking the floor.

Nick stood against the wall and watched Miranda Vanguard strut her stuff.

She was beautiful, no denying that. Not too tall, but in possession of a body most women would kill for. And boy, did she know how to use it.

No denying that either.

Her long, dark hair spread around her shoulders like silk. Tanned skin glowed under the bright lights as she flashed the smile that was growing more expensive by the hour.

Nick waited for the feeling—the one he knew so well now—of being sucked in, pulled under, and captured so completely by her.

It didn't come.

Instead, he felt something closer to relief.

Once upon a time, he'd found her exotic beauty appealing. Been drawn to her mysterious smile and elusive nature. Fallen for her many times. Maybe even loved her a little.

Today she was just Mindy.

“Nick!” She waved a hand and struck another pose. The photographer swore and barked instructions that she happily ignored.

Nick tried not to laugh. The shimmering blue evening gown that hugged all the right curves probably cost more than a small car. At least she was decent this time. The last unexpected visit he'd paid her, he'd found her modeling negligees.

“Miranda, dah-ling, this way please . . .” The guy was built like a Mack Truck and spoke with a thick accent, German maybe. He glanced at Nick, irritated.

Nick took a couple steps forward and caught Mindy's eye. “Are you almost done? We need to talk.”

“Do you mind?” The photographer lowered his camera and glared. “We are working here.”

Mindy laughed. “Oh, Horst, don't be such a grump. We've been at this for hours.”

Nick pulled his gaze up in a hurry. This grandpa was the guy Mindy claimed to be in love with? No wonder she wanted to hide the relationship from her parents.

Mindy flounced across the floor toward them, her dress swishing behind her. The hulk practically melted as she placed a hand on his arm and stood on her toes to kiss him. “Can we call it a day, Horst? I'm exhausted.”

“All right, my sweet. We're still on for dinner?”

“Eight o'clock. Don't be late.” Mindy blew him a kiss and skipped over to Nick. “What are you doing in the city?” She put her arms around him and squeezed.

“Took a day off. Didn't know it was a crime to stop in and see my ‘girlfriend.' ” Nick shot her a wink and enjoyed the growl that came from the direction of the big guy. He had his back to them, packing up his gear.

Mindy rolled her eyes. “Stop it. Are you in a rush? It'll take me about ten minutes to get changed.”

“More like twenty.” Nick eyed a leather sofa in one corner of the long room. “I'll go take a nap. Unless Horse wants to buy me a drink.”

“I am busy.” Horst pushed a fistful of fingers through thick, almost yellow, hair as he strode over to them. He wasn't that ugly. Kind of rugged, in a Hulk Hogan sort of way. He tried on a tiny smile Nick figured was supposed to put him at ease. “You must be Nicholas.”

“We meet at last.” Nick took the beefy hand extended to him. “Go, Mind. Time's a ticking.”

“So rude, Nicky. Honestly.” She pranced off, leaving a whiff of heady perfume floating on the air.

Nick shoved his hands back in his pockets, checked out the girls on the far side of the room, and made sure nobody was in earshot. “You do realize how insane this is?” he asked the hulk.

“You don't have to tell me. But there's no reasoning with that one, as I am sure you know.”

“Yeah. I do know.” Nick exhaled. “But I'm gonna give it a shot.”

“Good luck.” Horst looked toward the door Mindy disappeared through. “Do you really think that her father would disown her?”

“Obviously Mindy does.” Nick tried to guess his age. He had at least fifteen years or more on them.

Horst glanced at his watch. “I must go. Nice to meet you,
Nicholas. Perhaps we talk longer next time.” He strode past him, stopped when he reached the door, and turned back, unsmiling. “And thanks.”

Mindy sipped her Cosmo and tried to play dumb.

Nick prayed for patience as he stared her down across the table in the crowded Manhattan restaurant. It was so loud he could hardly hear himself think. “Can you listen to me for once, please?”

“I am listening to you. But I'm still mad at you for blowing me off last weekend. You were supposed to be at that party. My parents were not impressed.” She gave him her best little girl pout.

Nick picked up the menu the waiter had forgotten on the table and wondered how much of a scene it would cause if he swatted her over the head with it. “I was sailing. I gave your mother my regrets. Look, I'm done playing games, Mind. I don't want to do this anymore.”

Her big eyes filled as her bottom lip began to quiver. A well-practiced ploy she played to the point of perfection. Old Maurice might still fall for the crocodile tears, but Nick's days of playing Mindy's games were over.

“Daddy will kill me.” She sniffed and took a huge gulp of her red drink. Coughed and took a moment to compose herself. “He hates Horst.”

“Well, the guy did cheat on you. Twice. It's possible your father has a point.”

Mindy's pout pulled into a scowl. “He's sorry. I wasn't exactly being faithful either, if you must know.”

Nick raised his eyes to the ceiling. “TMI, Mind.” He leaned closer. “This may come as a shock to you, but I actually do have a life. I'd like to start living it.” He downed the rest of his beer and
picked up the other half of his Philly steak. Mindy hadn't touched her salad. “Eat. Anorexia doesn't become you.”

“Shut up.” She picked up her fork and shoved a pile of green stuff in her mouth. “I don't know why we couldn't have gone for sushi,” she mumbled. “That”—she pointed her fork at his monstrosity of deliciousness—“is disgusting.”

Their waiter refilled their water glasses and smiled at Mindy like a love-sick sixth grader. Nick wondered how many restaurants Miranda Vanguard managed to take complete control over the minute she walked through the door.

She'd always possessed a power he found impossible to define.

Dressed in a simple T-shirt and skinny jeans, she looked more like a teenager than a top model. He'd known her since they were kids. Their families moved in the same circles and went on ski trips and cruises together. Mindy was a natural leader; their crowd went along with her suggestions, some of them outrageous. But her parents clung to the notion that she ranked right up there with the Virgin Mary. Amongst her many other questionable qualities, Miranda Vanguard had mastered the act of deception. The past few years, he'd gone along.

No more.

“What's up, Nick?” She sat back and folded her arms. “As much as I'd love to believe you came all the way here to take me to lunch, I'm not that stupid.”

“I want this to be over.” He'd actually said it. He'd thought about it, written it down a few times, but never voiced it. Until now. “I didn't mind providing your parents a distraction for a while, pretending we were dating, but it's getting out of hand. The parties, the dinners. Your mother actually said the
W
word the other night—did you hear that?”

Mindy giggled. “I thought you were going to choke on your clams.”

“I didn't sign up for this, Mind.”

“Nicky.” Mindy's full lips parted in a half smile and she put a hand on his arm. Long scarlet fingernails shimmered under the small glass light hanging above them. “What's her name?”

Nick gauged her expression. Maybe he should have been a little nicer to her the past couple of months. They were still friends, after all. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” She finished her drink and played with the rings on her fingers. “What am I supposed to tell Daddy?”

He sat forward, met her eyes, and saw fear in them. “Tell him the truth, Mind. You're almost twenty-five. You have your own money.”

Thin eyebrows shot skyward. “Do you have any idea how much a decent condo costs in this city? Who do you think owns that penthouse on Fifth? Not me. He'll be so angry with me. He'll cut me off.”

Did she really believe that? Maurice would step in front of an oncoming tractor trailer to avoid the slightest bit of harm coming to his beautiful daughter. Surely he wouldn't wash his hands of her for falling in love with the wrong guy.

Nick shrugged. “I think you're wrong. But so what if he does? Don't you want to live your own life for a change?”

“You're a fine one to talk.” Mindy dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. Real tears this time, it seemed. “You're stuck on that boring little island, pushing papers. Yes-sir-ing your father left, right, and center.”

“You know why I went back.” The sandwich sat heavy in his stomach and he pushed his plate to one side. A couple across the room caught his attention. They were deep in conversation, intently looking at each other.

Nick watched the way the man reached across the small table and tucked a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear. A simple movement, yet filled with such affection. Watched the way she returned his smile and said he was her world without words.

He'd never felt that way about anybody.

But he wanted to. Wanted it bad.

Nick blinked and turned back to Mindy. “I like Nantucket. It actually feels like home.”

“Oh boy.” She laughed and gave a knowing look. “I bet it's that girl who lives next door. What's her name, Gray's sister? She was always making googly eyes at you.”

“She was not.” He lowered his gaze and cursed the heat prickling his cheeks.

“Oh, I'm right! Linda? Lynn?”

“Lynette.” A smile spread before he could stop it. “Happy now?”

“You do look good, Nick. More at peace. Well, Miss Carlisle is one lucky woman. You're a first-class act, Mr. Cooper.”

“Thanks, Mind.” Nick allowed a little relief to settle in. “So let's figure this thing out.”

Lynette walked past The Longshoreman on Wednesday after work. Jed Hagerman was outside taping a notice to the window.

“Hey, Lynnie,” he said and she stopped walking. They'd gone to high school together, until he dropped out. He came by the day care to pick up his sister's little girl once in a while, and he'd asked her out enough times.

“Hi, Jed.” She scanned the notice as he stepped away from it. “Looking for help, huh?”

“Yeah. Had a gal quit on me last week.”

An idea pricked Lynette's mind. Art supplies were expensive. She had been putting the money she'd earned from her paintings right back into the house, skimming off the top of her salary to pay for her materials. She couldn't come out and ask David or Liz for extra cash. She wasn't ready for anyone to know about the paintings she was selling. Not yet.

She followed Jed into the dimly lit bar and waited for her eyes to adjust. The place was empty except for an old guy sitting at the counter. Jed rounded the counter and gave her the once-over.