Nantucket (5 page)

“So, let me get this straight—you want to escape civilization to get away from everyone . . . but you still want to have a whole bunch of kids?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What if you have a child who can't get along with his or her siblings?”

“That'll never happen. My kids are going to be great; I'll teach them to love nature and to build things with their hands.” He stopped abruptly and Cadie, who'd been following him on the narrow path, almost bumped into him.

“Here it is,” he said, pointing to a weathered three-quarter Cape with a long thicket of roses climbing over its roof.

“Oh, my,” she whispered softly.

Liam pushed open the rickety gate. “I'm going to buy this place someday.”

Cadie followed him up the overgrown path and Liam lifted the train of tiny pink roses that hung over the house and jiggled the wooden door open. They stepped into a room that was bare of furnishings but filled with light. Cadie looked around at the wide board flooring, covered with sand, and at the broken panes in the windows. “It sure needs work!”

“It does,” Liam agreed, surveying the little house as if he already owned it. “But it'll be beautiful when it's done. Just look at these fireplaces,” he said, motioning to the tremendous stone chimney dividing the main level into three rooms—each with its own hearth.

“I can definitely see its potential,” Cadie said as she followed him through the kitchen and out into the yard. The heady aroma of lilacs filled the air as she gazed at the overgrown gardens.

“There's an herb garden over here,” Liam said, kneeling down next to a small raised bed. He brushed off the faded wooden markers. “Basil, chives, thyme . . .”

“Do you know who owns it?” Cadie asked.

Liam shook his head. “It's been like this since I was a little kid and it just gets more overgrown every year.”

“Maybe the person's too old to take care of it.”

“Maybe.”

“I can picture a woman coming out here to snip herbs for her dinner or lilacs for her table.”

Liam nodded. “Whoever it is, I hope they don't put it on the market before I have enough money to buy it.”

They walked back through the house and Liam closed the doors.

“It's beautiful,” Cadie said as she followed him back along the path. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

When they got back to the beach, Liam pulled off his shirt. “Going in?”

Cadie watched him straighten out the corners of the blanket. “I
am,
” she said, “but I need some sunscreen on my back.” She held out a bottle of Coppertone and pulled her tank top over her head. “Would you mind?”

Mind?!
Liam shook the bottle, poured a generous puddle into the palm of his hand, smeared it across her shoulders and felt her shiver. “What's the matter?”

“It's chilly.”

“Oh, don't be a wimp,” he teased, rubbing the cream under the strings of her bikini. “Want help on the front too?”

“I think I can handle the front,” she said, taking the bottle back from him.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” he said with a grin as he rubbed the extra sunscreen on his nose.

Cadie watched him walk to the water. She'd never met anyone like Liam before. Most of the boys in her circle of friends were more concerned about the cars they drove and the girls they'd been with than they were with the state of the world; and even though Liam owned a boat that would be the envy of every boy she knew, he loved it for its beauty, not its value.

He turned back. “Coming?”

“Yup,” she said, stepping out of her shorts and following him.

L
iam was surprised to find a parking spot on Broad Street on a Saturday night. He backed into it and climbed out, glancing at his watch as he hurried across the street—he hadn't realized how late it had gotten after he'd towed John Alden's boat back to the boathouse. He ran his hand through his damp hair and looked up at the beautifully restored New England building. It wasn't his first time at The Brotherhood of the Thieves. In the off-season, he often stopped by the old whaling bar to have a beer with the old salts, but he avoided going out in the summer months, and he'd never been to the restaurant.

He stepped inside and was immediately greeted by a friendly hostess who showed him to the patio where the Regan party was already getting started. Tracey stood up as soon as she saw him. “Hey,” she said, giving him a warm hug. Liam smiled and kissed her lightly on the cheek; then he shook Jack's hand and nodded politely to their friends. “This is Chase Travis,” Jack said, motioning to a handsome, blond-haired man wearing round, tortoise shell glasses. “And this is Devon Travis,” he said, motioning to the slender Asian man sitting next to him. Both Chase and Devon stood to shake hands and Liam realized that, although they shared a last name, they couldn't possibly be brothers—unless one was adopted. He glanced at Jack for a sign, but his face was unrevealing. “Chase and Devon own The Painted Parrot.”

“I've heard of it,” Liam said, not missing a beat. He had an open mind—
to each his own,
he'd always believed. “Over on Old South Wharf. It's new . . .”

“Yes,” Chase said, sipping his martini. “We just opened this summer and it's been a huge success—bigger than we ever dreamed.” He looked over at his partner for confirmation and Devon nodded. “We're featuring an up-and-coming new artist in our next show,” Chase continued. “Levi Knox—his work is amazing. In fact, we've already sold a piece!”

“The opening is tomorrow,” Devon added.

Liam nodded. “I saw an ad in the paper.”

“I told you the newspaper was worth it,” Devon said, smiling victoriously.

Chase rolled his eyes. “We're still trying to figure out the best venues for ads—I think magazines, but Devon insists vacationers read the local paper too.”

“Well, I'm not a vacationer, but that's where I saw it,” Liam confirmed as their waitress came over to take his drink order. He quickly glanced at the list of beers and then eyed Jack's glass.

“Whale's Tale,” Jack said.

“I'll just have what he's having.”

The waitress nodded. “Are you ready to order dinner or should I come back?”

“Come back,” they all said, and Liam, who was still trying to catch up, opened his menu. He glanced down, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Tracey looking at him.

“What?” he asked with a boyish grin. She laughed and he felt his heart skip.
Yep, nothing's changed,
he thought. If there was any other girl on earth, besides Cadie, whom Liam felt he could've spent his life with, it was Tracey, and the funny thing was, the two weren't anything alike. Tracey had dark, wavy hair—which he now noticed had silver strands weaving through it—and jade green eyes, and because she was Greek and had olive oil running through her veins, she was perpetually tan. But the biggest difference between them was that Cadie had come from a wealthy family who vacationed on Nantucket, and Tracey—the youngest daughter of a lobsterman and a waitress—was a native islander who was well acquainted with hard times. Unfortunately, she was also the childhood sweetheart of his best friend.

Tracey looked up and smiled, her green eyes seeing right through him. “What what?” she said flirtatiously.

“You're lookin' as fine as ever, woman. Are you sure you're with the right man?”

Jack laughed. “Wow! You
do
have a line or two!”

Liam grinned at his old friend. “I'm
not
a virgin, ya know.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Jack said, “although thirty years of celibacy is nothing to cheer about.”

“Who said anything about celibacy?”

Tracey listened to their banter and laughed. She loved Liam—she always had. In fact, if Jack hadn't asked her out first, her life might've been very different.

“How're the kids?” Liam asked.

“Getting big!” Tracey said, reaching for her phone and showing him the most recent pictures of T. J., their ten-year-old son, and Olivia, his seven-year-old sister.

Liam leaned closer to get a better look, and Tracey murmured, “Mmm,
you
smell good!”

“I showered just for you,” he teased, admiring the pictures. “Man, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?” he said, eyeing Jack. “Look how blond they are!”

“What can I say?” Jack said with a shrug. “It's those stubborn Norwegian genes.”

“Stubborn is right,” Tracey said with a laugh, showing Chase and Devon the pictures too.

“How are your parents?” Liam asked.

“Fine. They're living in Florida now.”

“I know. Your dad didn't want to leave Nantucket.”

“He didn't—in fact, he still refuses to sell the house, so it just sits here empty. But they're getting older, and after his heart attack, they really needed to move closer to one of us. Vermont was definitely out of the question since they'd had enough of winter, so they're down in Palm Beach near Elisa—who's only five minutes away. It worked out . . . although I miss them.”

“Your dad's a character,” Liam said, his voice filled with obvious affection for Dimitri Elias.

She laughed. “He is indeed . . . and he thought the world of Coop,” she said, smiling sadly. “You must miss him.”

“I do. Thanks for the card, by the way. . . .”

“You're welcome. I wish we could've come.”

Liam nodded. “Your dad spoke at the funeral. . . .”

“I know.”

“The two of them always had such a good time when they were together,” Liam said, smiling. “Good ole Dimitri. I can remember watching them walk down the street”—he motioned in the direction of Broad Street—“holding each other up. Talk about a pair of drunken sailors! And your mom would always call me to see if I would go round them up.”

Tracey laughed. Just then, their waitress came back with Liam's beer. “Ready?” she asked, and they all smiled sheepishly and looked back at their menus. “Okay, I'll come back,” she said with a laugh.

“Just a couple more minutes,” Jack called after her. “Damn, she's a looker,” he murmured, and Liam looked up in surprise . . . and then realized Tracey had heard too.

After they finally ordered, the evening flew by, and Liam discovered that sharing his old friends with strangers wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Chase and Devon were both funny and cheerful . . .
and
they were obviously in love. Liam also learned that Tracey—an art history professor at UVM—had been Chase's advisor, which explained their lasting friendship.

“Are you still teaching?” Liam asked.

“No, I'm home with the kids. It was too hard to juggle teaching and being a mom—our schedules are different and Jack travels so much, plus both kids play sports, and then there's the inevitable sick day. It's just easier being home.”

Liam nodded and then noticed Jack eyeing the waitress again. “How's work for you?” he asked, trying to draw his attention back to the table.

Jack looked back, startled. “Me?! Oh, fine. Same old shit, ya know—lots of traveling, but the money's good and that's what matters, right, hon?” he asked, smiling at Tracey.

“If you say so,” she said in a resigned voice.

Liam frowned, sensing discord between them.

As the evening wound down and they stood to leave, Liam realized he'd had a little too much to drink, and as he steadied himself, Chase turned to shake hands and almost fell over. “You should come to the opening tomorrow,” he slurred.

“Yes, you
should
come!” Tracey chimed, wrapping him in a hug. “Then we'll see you again . . .
and
you can see the kids.”

“I was actually thinking of coming,” Liam said with a smile. Then he turned to shake Jack's hand. “Then you and I can have a talk. . . .”

Jack nodded and slapped him on the back. “We'll see . . .”

 

“I
can't believe you brought beer!” Cadie said as she wrapped a towel around her shivering body and sat on the blanket next to Liam. Her lips were blue and goose bumps covered her arms and legs. “I thought you were an innocent island boy. . . .” she chattered.

“What makes you think island boys are innocent?” he teased, handing her the frosty bottle.

“Oh, my goodness!” she said, holding it. “What I really need is a cup of hot cocoa.”

“You'll warm up,” he promised, rubbing her back through the towel. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”

“That's because my brain is frozen—what was it?”

“What makes you think island boys are innocent?”

“Oh!” she said with a laugh. “I don't know . . . you just have this sweet, innocent look about you. I would've never guessed you drank.”

“I don't know if I should take that as a compliment,” he mused, opening his beer. “Sometimes I drink. Not often. But I figured you did—being a rich kid with rich friends and all. That's why I brought 'em.”

“I don't know if I should take
that
as a compliment or not,” she teased.

“Don't take it the wrong way,” he said. “I just meant . . .”

“I know what you meant. You're quick to criticize—
and
assume—stuff about rich people, and then you assume those same people make assumptions about
you.
”

Liam shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “You're right,” he admitted sheepishly. “I guess I do have a little bit of a chip on my shoulder.” He paused. “It probably comes from living with Coop, but then again, I've never met anyone with money who acts like you.” He reached into the cooler. “Ham or turkey?”

“I can't believe you packed lunch too.”

“I always pack lunch. If I don't eat, I get crankery.”

“Is that a combination of hungry and cranky?”

“It
is
—my mom used to say it when I was little.”

Cadie smiled and peered into the cooler. “I'll have whatever you don't want.”

“It doesn't matter . . . you pick.”

“Turkey.”

“It has cheese on it—is that okay?”

“I don't mind—I'm just
so
impressed.”

“It's not a big deal,” Liam said, handing the turkey sandwich wrapped neatly in wax paper to her. “I've been packing my own lunch since I was seven.”

“That's kind of young to be making your own lunch.”

“Well, it was either that or be crankery.”

“Coop didn't make your lunch?”

“Sometimes he did, but sometimes he wasn't up yet,” Liam said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Cadie slowly unwrapped her sandwich. “How come you live with him?”

Liam swallowed the bite he'd taken and took a sip of his beer. “Because my parents died in a car accident.”

“Oh, no!” Cadie said. “I'm so sorry.” She put her hand on his arm and her touch went right through him.

“It's okay,” Liam said, looking over. “It was a long time ago.”

“How did it happen?”

“They were coming home from a Christmas party in a snowstorm and a tractor trailer lost control and hit them head-on.”

Cadie shook her head in horror. “That's awful.”

Liam nodded. “A state trooper came to our house, but Jess, my babysitter, and I were the only ones home. I was in bed, but I heard the knock on the door and then I heard Jess crying, so I went to see what was wrong. I saw the trooper standing by the door and I saw Jess on the phone. She pulled me into a hug, and I stood there listening to her as she told her mom what happened . . . and I thought she was talking about someone else. I had no idea she was talking about
my
parents.

“She still sends me Christmas cards. She used to send a regular card—you know, with just a Christmas scene, but the last few years, she's sent one of those photo cards of her family—she has kids of her own now.” He paused. “Sometimes I wish she'd just stop sending cards . . . it always reminds me of that night.”

“How old were you?”

“Six.”

“That must've been so hard.”

Liam looked out at the waves. “It was. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I'd never see them again—that they were just . . . gone.” He paused. “At their service, I heard people say it was good thing I was so young because I wouldn't remember them, but I remembered everything—I remembered how my mom's hair smelled and the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at me; how my dad always said she could give hugs with her eyes . . . and how soft-spoken and patient he was. One time, he was helping me with a Lego model of a plane and he just watched, waiting for me to figure it out. ‘You got this, Li,' he'd say. ‘You got this.'”

He turned and smiled at her. “And
you
said I wasn't talkative. Look how you've gotten me to do
all
the talking!”

Cadie smiled. “Well, thank you for telling me about it. I didn't know you had so much happen.” She paused. “Is Coop your mom's brother or your dad's?”

“My mom's.”

“Do you have other family?”

“I have a grandfather on my mom's side—Coop's father—but he and Coop don't get along, and my grandparents on my dad's side live in California. I only met them once—at my parents' service. At the time, there was a bit of a debate about who was going to get me, but my mom had left a note saying she wanted Coop to be my guardian . . . and that was that.”

Cadie nodded thoughtfully. “Have you liked living with him?”

Liam nodded. “For the most part—he's a veteran and he struggles with his memories of Vietnam, but he's a good guy.” He took a sip of his beer and looked over at her again. “Enough about me. What about you and your family? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

Cadie shook her head as she swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. “No, I'm an only child too.”

“Are your parents from New York?”

She nodded. “My parents are from Montauk. We have a house there too.”

Liam offered her a chocolate-chip cookie. “Is that in New York?”

She nodded and smiled as she reached for a cookie—the fact that Liam hadn't heard of one of the wealthiest towns in New York made him all the more perfect.

“Are you warming up?” he asked, sealing the ziplock bag.

“Yup, I'm ready to go back in.”

“You are not,” he said with a laugh; then he turned to her, searching her eyes. He gently touched her cheek, and then, to his own surprise, leaned over and kissed her. She kissed him back, tasting his sweet lips.

Liam's eyes grew solemn and his voice was husky as he spoke. “I've never felt this way before.”

“I haven't either,” she said softly.

Liam kissed her again and then pulled away. “I'm ready to go in again,” he said with a smile, and Cadie watched in surprise as he got up and trotted toward the water.

Liam plunged headfirst through the waves and swam underwater for as long as he could, the cold, clear water cooling his body and clearing his mind. He really
hadn't
felt this way before—his heart was pounding, his head was spinning, and the rest of his body, well . . . it was as if everything was suddenly spiraling out of control and he really needed it to slow down.

Moments later, he walked back toward the blanket and reached down for his towel.

“Feel better?” Cadie asked.

“Much,” he said with a grin; then he shook his head, sending beads of cold water in her direction.

“Hey!” she said, laughing and pulling her towel around her.