A Glimpse of the Dream (14 page)

The sensation that I was seeing the house for the first time lingered as I gave Simon the tour, my education putting a whole new light on the place I had called home for so long. The wall sconces in the large foyer carried the theme of the arch, with beveled glass carved and trimmed ornately in bronze. Their dim ambient light spotlighted the artwork on the wood-paneled walls. The pieces were mostly oil paintings of turbulent seas. Kane and I used to make up stories about the ships in the paintings: One was a foreign princess coming to the New World to marry, but her ship was lost at sea; another was a pirate ship that had just made an impressive haul after raiding ships from the East India Company. Now, looking at the paintings, I recognized the artists—Ivan Aivazovsky, Thomas Moran, Frank Vining Smith, and Thomas Birch—and could appreciate that Mrs. Marks had a very impressive collection. Down the hall from the entrance, the walls were sponged in a muted gold with plaster relief depicting birds on delicate tree branches. The exquisite detail perfectly represented how Mrs. Marks thought of her home. Hopefully she would see it again.

Moving down the hall, we entered the library. As a child, this room had been my favorite, because this was where Kane and I often escaped to. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the perimeter on three sides, the huge stone fireplace taking up most of the fourth wall. The small sofa in the corner was the same one that Kane and I had slept on the first night I’d arrived, and in truth many, many nights after, and still it screamed for occupants to curl up with a book and get lost for a while.

“Amazing. I understand now why you have a love of all things old. This place is incredible. How long has this been in her family?”

“Five generations. Apparently her ancestor had done quite well for himself in the shipping business during the Gilded Age right along with Vanderbilt. He had the house built in the late 1800s.”

I answered him almost absently, because his comment about this house and my love of all things old was not one I had ever really thought about. He was right, though. This house, and my life here, had directly affected what I wanted to do and be when I grew up. “I guess I never realized how big an influence the house had on me.”

“More than the house, babe, but it definitely played a role.”

We toured the entire house, taking far longer than I thought we would, because Simon wanted to see everything—the wallpaper, the woodworking, the paintings, and furniture. We spent almost two hours in the library trying to guess how many books were shelved there. And remembering Kane admitting to doing the same when we were younger sent pain slicing through me. We ended the tour at the cliff. Simon looked down at the crashing surf, and I noticed the shiver that went through him.

“Interesting, see the way the rocks create a sort of wading pool? Would make for a nice place to swim. You ever swim there?”

That had been Kane’s and my favorite place. “Yeah, when I was younger.”

“With Kane.”

“Yes.”

His focus moved beyond us to the water that stretched out before us. “What a view.”

I wasn’t looking at the view, only at the little island where a house stood. It was concealed mostly by trees, but I knew it was there. Did Kane and his wife still live there? Did he have children now, had he then? The thought of seeing little Kanes walking around almost made me step off the edge. God, I needed to make sure Mrs. Marks was okay, and then I had to get back to what was safe and away from Kane Doyle.

“Let’s eat, I’m starved.” I really wasn’t, but I couldn’t look another second at Kane’s love shack.

We stepped into the large kitchen, the scents making my mouth water, just as two heads turned in our direction.

“Teagan!” I had never seen Mrs. T move so fast to pull me in for a hug. “We are so glad you’re home. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

My heart moved into my throat. I loved Mrs. T, but I couldn’t deny there was a part of me that was bitter that her grandniece was married to Kane, living in my house, living my dream. I suspected she felt that same awkwardness. When she studied me, so many emotions flew across her expression, but they were gone so quickly that I was having a hard time distinguishing them. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you.” And, despite my bitterness, I really had.

She stepped back but kept her hands on my arms. “You have grown into a beautiful woman.”

My cheeks burned.

Reaching for Simon’s hand, I drew him closer. “This is Simon Dale, my close friend and business partner.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Mrs. T said, and I noticed she stood just a little bit taller.

Simon took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. She almost swooned. “The pleasure is mine.”

What a ham.

“Are you hungry?” Mrs. T asked while walking back to the stove to check on what she was cooking, which smelled divine.

“You will never eat as well as you will while you’re here. This woman, we should steal her and bring her home with us.”

“Really? Well, I do love to eat. Seems like a match made in heaven,” Simon purred.

Mrs. T was actually blushing—I couldn’t believe it.

A half an hour later we were sitting at the large kitchen island eating rosemary encrusted lamb, roasted potatoes, and freshly picked string beans. Mr. Clancy had even selected a lovely Cabernet from the wine cellar.

“We missed seeing your smiling face. It’s so nice to have you home. It just hasn’t been the same without you,” Mrs. T said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come home earlier. I should have. I shouldn’t have turned my back on all of you, because you’re my family. That was wrong of me.” Truth was, with Mrs. Marks in the hospital, it kind of put everything in perspective. Despite my feelings for Kane, these people
were
my family and they deserved better from me.

“Don’t. Teagan, what you went through, how Kane behaved, we get it. He hurt you. That’s on him regardless of why.”

“What do you mean regardless of why?” As if there could be a reasonable explanation for why he’d hurt me.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say more, but she didn’t. Instead she turned her attention to Simon. “So tell me, Simon, how did you meet our Teagan?”

“It was a chocolate chip cookie, we both wanted it, and it was the last one.”

“Who got it?” Mrs. T asked.

“I did, but I shared it with her.” Simon winked at me, his hand finding mine under the table.

Later, Mr. Clancy stopped me from leaving the kitchen with a light touch on my arm. Simon, sensing we needed a moment, continued out of the kitchen to give us some privacy.

“You asked me once why we didn’t come with you to settle you in at school but went with Kane. There’s more to the story, Teagan. You didn’t hear it all. I must encourage you to seek that boy out while you are here and listen to what he has to say, and then you’ll understand why we all acted as we did.”

“What could he possibly have to say?”

“Please, Teagan. It’s his story to tell, but you really need to hear it.”

That night, Simon and I sat in my room. “I want to go pound the life out of him. Teagan, give me this. I kept my mouth shut for nine years, but fucking shit, I’m done with this asshole now.”

Simon and I were in my room, several bottles of wine later. We were both drunk. I didn’t want to feel—feelings sucked. I didn’t know what Kane could possibly have to say to me, but realizing I wouldn’t be leaving here without seeing him, alcohol was awesome.

“I watched you that first year, a shell of a person, a ghost walking among the living. You pulled yourself out of that, but not by much. He did that to you because he wanted a clean fucking break. I’ll give him a clean break when I snap the motherfucker’s neck. And now he has something to tell you. Really? I want to be there, so he can astound me with whatever the hell he has to say to you after all this time.”

Bending forward, I pressed my forehead into his chest. “God, it hurts. I’ve done so well at denying this, but being here, even five years later, I can’t believe how much it hurts.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m glad you’re here. It will all be a little bit easier with you here.” Exhaustion, probably from the nerves that were going crazy in my stomach—fucking feelings, damn them—slammed into me. “I’m tired. Stay here tonight?”

“I wasn’t going anywhere.” Climbing under the covers, Simon pulled me close. “Sleep. We’ll kill Kane tomorrow.”

“Painfully.”

“Very painfully.” He looked down at me. “You can’t avoid him. You are going to have to listen to what he has to say.”

“I know.”

“And after, I’ll kill him. Beheading has a nice ring to it.”

“Guillotine style or with a large broadsword?”

“Sword, but I don’t want to use one of the good ones from our shop. Maybe an old rusty one.”

“We could always cut him in several places and drop his body in the water for the fish.”

“And let them eat the evidence. Now you’re thinking. Love you, Teagan.”

The memory of Kane saying those same words to me, especially being back in my old room, stabbed me in my already aching heart, but I forced the words from my throat. “Love you too.”

I tried to sleep but I couldn’t. Being careful not to wake Simon, I climbed from bed and pulled on my robe. Stepping into my slippers, I headed to the kitchen. Mrs. T had flashlights in a drawer by the back door. Grabbing one, I started outside. With as many times as I’d made this walk, I could probably do it with my eyes closed. Reaching the edge, I noticed a fence had been added, a simple split rail that sat about twenty feet in from the edge. I wondered why it was there, not that it took away from the view, but it seemed unnecessary to me. Taking the path, I noticed another addition, a railing had been installed—wood with square rungs. It was safer, definitely, but again it seemed unnecessary.