- -
- 100%
- +
He supposed that was the foundation of a good bamboozle—the element of surprise.
Gabe was still thinking about Lindy when Carys came into view. She looked adorable in her pink bathing suit and for a moment he let his guard down. It didn’t matter how she infuriated him, the love he felt for this kid was beyond comprehension. She’d been their miracle child, part of the reason she was an only child. Charlotte had struggled to get pregnant and they’d gone through several IVF cycles to finally conceive. They used to joke that Carys had been their million-dollar baby because when it was all said and done, the medical bills had been astronomical.
“She better be the next president,” he’d joked a few months after Carys had been born and another wave of bills had come through. Charlotte, her blond hair tucked in a messy knot at the back of her head, simply graced the sleeping baby in her arms with an adoring smile and he forgot all about the dollar amount it’d taken to get their bundle of joy. All that had mattered was the love they all felt for this tiny person who’d come into their lives on a cloud of hopes and dreams. He’d pressed a kiss to her downy head, inhaling the soft sweet scent at her crown. “She’s worth every penny,” he’d admitted to Charlotte. Charlotte’s eyes had watered and she’d lifted her mouth to his, sealing their lips with an
emotion-filled kiss.
“You’re an amazing husband...and an even more amazing father,” she’d murmured. “I love you.”
Gabe closed his eyes, wincing against the hurt that always followed when he thought of Charlotte. It’d been a year since she’d died. Sometimes it felt as though it were yesterday. He shook himself free of the pain wrapping itself like a band around his chest and forced a smile for Carys’s benefit. “Hitting the beach?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Carys answered, for once giving him a straight answer instead of one laced with sarcasm. He took that as a good sign. “Wanna come with me?”
Doubly pleased that she thought to include him without his prompting, he agreed quickly. “Let me just go get my BlackBerry and—”
“No phone,” she returned with a faint scowl. “Can’t you go two minutes without your emails and whatever?”
He hesitated but he could see she was waiting for him to choose her over his work. It was an easy choice if a choice was given but that was the thing...he was the boss. He had to know what was happening at all times. A lot of lives depended on him making all the right decisions for the company. He knew this was a concept an eleven-year-old girl couldn’t possibly understand, but someday he hoped she might and forgive him for being a workaholic. “It’s not that simple, honey,” he said finally, hating the disappointment in her face. “But I tell you what, tonight at dinner...no phone at all. It’ll just be me and you. I promise.”
Carys regarded him with a knowing expression that bordered on distrust and it cut him to the core. Finally, she shrugged and started walking. “Whatever,” she added over her shoulder and he swore under his breath. He should’ve just agreed to leave his phone behind. What was an hour or two incommunicado? But it was too late now and he was expecting an important phone call, besides. He sighed and walked to the bungalow, his heart heavy. Things had to change. But how was he supposed to make it change if he couldn’t even spend the afternoon with his daughter without it devolving into a fight? He didn’t have an answer.
That was the problem. Lately, when it came to Carys, he never had the answer.
He missed his wife—her smile, her easygoing nature, her way of smoothing over the rough spots—but most of all, he missed the way his daughter was when Charlotte was alive.
Just as he’d been unable to prevent Charlotte from dying, he felt incapable of stopping the downward slide in his relationship with Carys. Soon, she’d leave behind the preteens and head straight into the dreaded teenage years and everyone always said those were worse. He groaned softly. He couldn’t even imagine.
He grabbed his phone and saw a missed call from the very person he’d been waiting for. “Damn,” he muttered and quickly checked his voice mail.
This call couldn’t wait. There was a three-hour time difference between here and California, which was where his office was located. With one final glance toward the beach, where he saw Carys setting up her beach gear, he quickly dialed his associate. He’d make it a brief call. Ten minutes tops.
Forty-five minutes later, deep in a tricky contract negotiation, Gabe knew all hope for time at the beach with his daughter had evaporated.
And it made him sick to his stomach. He made a mental promise to make it up to her at dinner.
Somehow his guilt felt like Charlotte’s disapproval. He was a poor substitute for a mother.
CHAPTER SIX
LINDY AND LILAH headed down to the beach, chatting as they went. It felt good to reconnect with her twin; sometimes Lindy forgot how deeply she missed their unspoken connection until they were together again.
“So tell me about life in Hollywood,” Lilah said, smiling. “Your emails are always so short.”
Lindy made a face. “You know I hate writing. If you’d get a cell phone with text capability...”
Lilah grimaced with the same intensity. “That’s all I need. I hate the concept of being at anyone’s beck and call. The idea of a cyber tether makes me squirm.” However, she shrugged as if she might actually consider the idea. “But if it meant I could stay connected with you easier, maybe I’ll think about it some more.”
“That’s progress,” Lindy remarked with a smile and stopped to spread their beach blanket on the soft sand. “So what’s new, Li?” she asked as they both settled on the blanket. “It seems like something’s bothering you.”
“Why would you think that?” Lilah asked.
“Well, Pops mentioned something and I thought if something were bothering you, you might open up to me if you were inclined to open up to anyone.” Lilah nodded but remained silent. Lindy tried again, saying, “Of course, you don’t have to, but I hate the thought of you being in pain over something when I might be able to help.”
Lilah’s sad smile said it all. Lindy’s heart sank a little. She’d been hoping everyone else was just imagining things, but the proof that her hope had been misplaced was currently staring off into the distance, with a bleak light in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Lindy asked, concerned.
“It’s hard to describe in a way that you could understand,” Lilah answered.
“Try me.”
Lilah sighed. “Have you ever felt that you just don’t have a place in life? That no matter what you do, you’re still standing on the outside looking in?”
Lindy shook her head. “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” Lilah said with a short cynical smile. “You’re the kind of person who walks into a room and all eyes are drawn to you because you shine with a light that’s hard to ignore. When I walk into a room, no one notices.”
“That’s not true,” Lindy protested. How could Lilah see herself like that? How could Lilah not see that she shone with a different kind of light, one that was soft and gentle and kind? “You have an ability to see the good in people, for smoothing over the rough spots in a person’s personality... I mean, that’s a true gift.”
“Some gift,” Lilah muttered, clearly not impressed. “Hardly useful if you ask me.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. It’s difficult being sandwiched between Lora and me. We’re both in-your-face type of personalities but that doesn’t mean that you don’t stand out in your own way.”
“It’s not just that, Lindy,” Lilah admitted softly. “It’s that I don’t seem to have anything that I’m good at.” As Lindy started to protest, Lilah held up her hand with a gentle admonishment. “No, wait. Let me finish. It’s all part of that knowing-your-place-in-the-world feeling that I was describing earlier. You’re an actress. Lora is a businesswoman. What am I? The flighty sister who can’t be trusted to handle tough jobs, the one who breaks under pressure. Not exactly the most flattering picture of myself, you know?”
“You’re an amazing artist,” Lindy interjected firmly, not willing to buy into Lilah’s assessment. “Teachers always said you had an uncanny way of knowing how to bring emotional depth to your work, even without much formal training. If that’s not talent, I don’t know what is.”
“What teachers said in high school certainly doesn’t do much good now. I was adequately talented with art. And now that Heath isn’t able to fire the glass for his glass fusion pieces, I’ve been filling in, but I’m just following his template. Any monkey could do what I’m doing.”
“That’s not true. Lora can’t do it. Heath told me that he loved the woman but if she tried to fuse another glass piece it might ruin their relationship.”
At that Lilah smiled. “Okay, you’re right. Lora isn’t any good with artistic mediums but she’s such a sharp businesswoman, she doesn’t need another talent. I’d like to be good at something. Anything.”
Lindy didn’t know what to say. It hurt her heart to hear her twin so candidly admitting how lost she was and it hurt worse knowing that Lindy couldn’t fix Lilah’s feelings about herself. She bit her lip, almost unable to believe the words were going to leave her mouth given her low opinion of therapists, but she knew her sister needed someone to help her through this. “Maybe you ought to see, like, a counselor or something,” she said, wincing at the words. “Or I don’t know...maybe read a self-help book?” she suggested, floundering for ideas.
“I’m fine,” Lilah said, shaking her head. “It’s my problem and not a new one. I’ll get it figured out...eventually.”
They were the right words, but Lindy sensed not even Lilah believed what she was saying and it scared Lindy. What scared her worse was that bleak expression on her sister’s face, the way she seemed resigned to...what? Giving up? Fading away? Lindy didn’t like any of those choices. “Move to L.A. with me when I go back,” she said impulsively, almost desperately.
“You and I both know that’s a terrible idea. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to fit in there. I’d slowly die inside without my island.”
“It kinda looks like that’s what’s happening now,” Lindy risked murmuring, shooting Lilah an uncertain glance. “You’re not happy.”
“What’s happiness?”
Lindy rolled her eyes, mildly irritated. “Don’t go all philosophical on me. You’re deflecting because you don’t want to think about what’s happening.”
“That’s all I do is think about it. I’m tired of thinking about it,” Lilah returned a bit sharply. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap but you’re wrong. It’s not like one day I woke up feeling melancholy and lost. It’s a feeling I’ve had for a long time and it’s just gotten worse.”
“You sound depressed,” Lindy blurted out, panicked by the utterly calm face of her twin as they discussed her situation. Shouldn’t there be tears? Or anger, or something? Lindy had once read that suicide victims often knew weeks in advance of the day they were going to kill themselves and when they did finally do it, they were very peaceful about their decision. Lindy suppressed a shudder of dread as the horrid thought seized her mind. “Don’t walk into the ocean and just disappear!”
Lilah did a double take, with a strange look. “What are you talking about?”
“Well...you’re acting so...like the people who are about to kill themselves and I couldn’t take the thought of you doing that so I figured I ought to throw it out there so you know that I’m not okay with that plan. You know?”
Lilah chuckled and the laughter actually reached her eyes, for which Lindy was inordinately grateful. “I can promise you I’m not interested in killing myself. I’m sorry to have put that idea in your head. I’m just sad, okay? Not suicidal.”
Lindy let out a deep breath. “Oh, thank God,” she said, feeling a weight lift from her chest. “Sad I can handle. Suicidal tendencies I cannot.”
Lilah chuckled and as her gaze traveled farther down the beach, she frowned. “Isn’t that the little girl in Bungalow 2?”
Lindy followed Lilah’s gaze and indeed, saw Carys walking down the beach, her feet splashing in the surf in a sullen manner. Lindy sighed. “Yeah,” she said and stood up. “I better go see what’s going on.”
Lilah nodded and Lindy walked to Carys. “What’s up, kid? You trying to ditch your dad again?”
“No, he was supposed to meet me down here but he hasn’t come yet. I guess he changed his mind.”
Inside, Lindy winced at the forlorn tone couched within the thinly veiled sarcasm. This kid was hurting. Couldn’t Gabe see that? How could he be so blind? She propped her hands on her hips and made a split-second decision. “Come hang out with me and my sister Lilah. She’s cool—you’ll like her. I promise.”
Carys’s gaze lit up hopefully but she held back, unsure. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I didn’t say you did. I just thought you might like to hang out with the cool kids, you know? But if you’ve got something better to do...”
“No,” Carys said quickly, smiling. “That sounds fine with me.”
“Great,” Lindy said, returning the smile as they walked back to the blanket where Lilah was sunning herself. Lindy stole a glance at Carys, troubled by the fact that she cared more than she should for this kid. She wasn’t the kind of person who adopted people or causes. That was Lilah’s gig. Lindy preferred her relationships easy and superficial. But for some reason, she couldn’t turn a blind eye to Carys’s pain. So how could Carys’s father not see that his daughter was clearly losing the battle against her grief and sadness? Stop it, she ordered herself. Gabe was the kid’s father; he’d figure it out. But what if he didn’t? That same voice she was trying to silence was irritatingly persistent.
And Lindy didn’t know what to do about it.
* * *
CARYS DIDN’T WANT to admit it, but she was grateful Lindy had invited her to hang out with her. Even though Lindy had promised to be available if Carys needed her, Carys was a little shy about actually hitting her up on her promise. But Lindy and her sister Lilah had happily dragged her along as if it weren’t a huge inconvenience to have a kid hanging around and it made Carys feel good inside.
“Lindy said you guys lost your mom when you were young?” Carys prompted, sipping at the coconut-and-pineapple smoothie Celly had created for them as they sat on the Bells’ private terrace.
Lilah and Lindy shared a look and Lilah nodded. “Yeah, and then our Grams died when we were teenagers. But Pops doesn’t remember that, so we try not to remind him.”
Carys frowned. “Huh?”
“Pops is losing his memory and it’s easier on him to think that she’s still here,” Lindy explained, her expression dimming for just a moment. “So if he tries talking about Grams just try to pretend that he’s making sense.”
“That’s weird,” Carys said. “Can’t you take him to the doctor or something?”
Lindy sighed. “I wish it were that easy. You can’t fix dementia.” Then she glanced at Lilah quickly. “You can’t, right?”
Lilah shook her head. “No. The doctor said the damage to his brain is irreversible. All we can do is manage his care, and since all of us agree that we are not going to put him in a home, that means he’s here with us. We just have to do what we can to keep him safe.”
“Kinda like babysitting, but for old people,” Carys said.
Lindy laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. But I ain’t on diaper duty, that’s for sure. That job can go to Lora.”
Carys’s expression mirrored Lilah’s as they both said ewwww in unison.
“I can’t believe you went there,” Lilah said, fighting a laugh. “God, Lindy. You’re so gross.”
“Hey, you were thinking it, too. Don’t give me that,” Lindy said.
Carys grinned at the warmth between the two sisters, wanting to bask in that sensation for as long as possible. Grieving for her mom was hard, but the loneliness sucking at her insides felt worse. Being around Lindy and her quiet yet mysterious twin seemed to ease that awful feeling inside. “Do you miss your grams a lot?” she asked.
Lilah’s expression turned wistful. “Oh, yes. Sometimes it’s a weird comfort to pretend that she’s just around the corner or at the store or something like that so I don’t have to acknowledge the fact that she’s gone.”
Carys considered that for a minute and slowly came to understand. “Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend that my mom is in the other room, in the kitchen or something, making dinner or washing dishes. For a second it makes me feel better, but then I remember she’s gone and then I feel worse.”
“Well, imagine if you got locked in that feeling before you realized it was all in your imagination,” Lindy said. “That’s where Pops is at. He’s locked in that feel-good place, and when we remind him that she’s gone, it kicks him into the sad place but the sad place scares him because he doesn’t understand. Ultimately, it’s just better if we leave him to whatever he believes. It’s not hurting anyone and frankly, it seems a small concession to keep things running more or less smoothly.”
Carys nodded. Her dad would have a fit if she constantly wandered around having conversations with her dead mother. It might be the straw that broke the camel’s back, as her mom used to say. “What was your grams like?” she asked.
At that both Lindy and Lilah shared a smile, but it was Lindy who spoke first. “Well, she was a kick in the pants. Strong like Lora, feisty like me, talented like Lilah. I guess we all got a piece of her personality.” Lindy cast a speculative look Carys’s way. “She would’ve loved you. You have just the right amount of piss and vinegar that Grams found amusing.”
Carys grinned. “Really?”
Lindy nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Grams had a habit of gravitating toward extremes. She said love or hate them, they were never boring. I think the only thing Grams found more tedious than boring people was when others insisted she do things their way.”
“Yep. The quickest way to get Grams to do the exact opposite—”
“—was to insist she do it whatever way she didn’t agree with. She could be a little contrary,” Lindy said, adding with a slight lift of her brow, “I guess I come by it honestly.”
Lilah laughed. “Yes, well, you take it to another level. Even Grams agreed, you were just downright difficult by nature.”
Lindy pretended to take offense but Carys could tell they were just joking. She giggled at the sisters and wished for the umpteenth time she hadn’t been an only child. It probably would’ve sucked less if she’d been able to share her grief with a sister or brother, even. But she’d never know because her mom was dead and it wasn’t as if her dad was in a hurry to get married again—thank God.
“So what was your mom like?” Lindy asked, swinging the conversation back around to Carys. “Was she like you?”
Carys shook her head and grinned. “No. She was nice.”
Lindy cracked up and playfully slapped Carys on the arm. “Not bad, kid. There’s hope for you yet. So, seriously, tell us about your mom. We’ve got time to kill before dinner, right, Li?”
“Sure,” Lilah said, sipping at her smoothie. “I’d love to hear about your mom.”
Carys took a deep breath and cast a nervous look Lindy’s way. She’d never really talked about her mom to anyone before. It was something she kept locked away in a private place where no one else could judge, or touch. Oddly, she trusted Lindy and her sister Lilah. Somehow she knew they were genuine, unlike the dumb shrink her dad had hired right after Carys’s mom had died. Dr. Dippity-Do, as Carys had privately named him when she’d seen how stiff his hair was from all the product he’d gooped on, had been a complete and total idiot as far Carys was concerned. He’d always spoken to her in a low, monotone voice that she supposed he thought was soothing, but really it made Carys want to bounce a basketball off his head. So, yeah, that hadn’t ended well. The doc had diagnosed Carys with a personality disorder and had prescribed medication. Thankfully, her dad had agreed the doc was off his rocker and hadn’t insisted on any more shrinks.
“My mom was supersupportive of everything I wanted to do, even if it was stupid,” Carys admitted a bit shyly. “I mean, she never rained on my parade by saying something negative. I always knew I could tell her anything and I miss that.” She glanced at the sisters. “Was your mom like that?”
Lilah frowned and Lindy answered with a sigh, “Not really. Our mom was...I don’t know, timid. She was quiet and reserved, from what I remember. We were
really young when she died. Lora might remember something different about her, but for us she always seemed sad.”
“Why?”
“Well, our dad left and it was hard for her to take. It really threw her for a loop. I don’t think she ever recovered from it.”
“Oh,” Carys said. Her father would’ve never left her mom. At least, she didn’t think he would. He worked too much to spend time looking for anyone else, at the very least. “I’m sorry.”
“Ancient history, kiddo,” Lindy said brightly, though Carys heard the fake happiness in Lindy’s tone. Lilah must’ve caught it, too, for she sent her sister a quick look. But Lindy had moved on, saying, “It sounds like even though your time with your mom was cut short, at least you had some quality time with her, right? You have great memories to hold on to.”
Carys nodded but it was hard to be grateful when there was so much she still needed her mom to be around for. “She’ll never see me get married. Or go to college,” Carys said quietly. “I won’t have anyone to call when I need, you know, advice about stuff. I mean, it’s not like I can ask my dad about girl stuff. When I asked my dad if I could get a training bra he turned six different shades of red and then said I didn’t need one yet. How does he know? My friend Yasmine said if you don’t get a bra right when your boobs start growing, they’ll sag like an old lady’s. I don’t want old lady boobs!”
Lindy didn’t even try to hold back her laughter and let loose with a huge guffaw. “Old lady boobs! Ha! I remember thinking that, too.” After a few more chuckles, Lindy said, “Listen, hon, your boobs are going to be fine. But if you really want a training bra, I think I could take you out shopping for one, though it might give your dad a heart attack if he knew. But take it from me, bras are a pain. Which is why I rarely wear one.”
“And why your boobs are going to hang down to your knees by the time you’re thirty,” Lora said, surprising them all when she announced her presence behind them.
“They will not.” Lindy sniffed as if offended. “For those of us who weren’t cursed with porn star cans, we don’t have to worry about gravity as much, so there.”
“Lucky you,” Lora remarked drily. “Hey, while you ladies are out here enjoying the sunset, Celly’s been busy making dinner. If you’re hungry, dinner will be served in the formal dining room.”
“Ohh, the formal dining room,” Lindy said in a pseudo-British accent that made Carys giggle. “So fancy these days! In my apartment, I have a formal dining recliner that also serves as a guest bed for when friends crash for the night.”
Lora grimaced and rolled her eyes while Lilah laughed, too. “Sounds divine. Dinner is ready in five.”
“You hungry?” Lindy asked Carys. “Cuz there’s always room for one more in the Bell household.”
Carys nodded eagerly even though that smoothie had filled her up. She wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to hang with Lindy and her crazy family. It was far more interesting than anything happening back at her place, where her dad would spend all night on the phone or on his laptop doing whatever it was he did aside from pay attention to her. “I’m starved,” Carys said, grinning. And it didn’t even matter what was on the menu.
* * *
GABE SCRUBBED HIS face and tossed his phone, tired and frustrated by the turn of events. A simple phone call had turned into a major time-suck and now it was much too late to take Carys to the beach. Likely, she’d already returned and was now hiding out in her room, like an angry little chinchilla just waiting for the right opportunity to snap his fingers off.