Summer Shadows (21 page)

“Oh, I love him. No question. It’s just …”

Abby waited, but he said nothing more. Whatever the difficulties between Marsh and his father, apparently he wasn’t talking about them today.

“Your mother died several years ago, didn’t she?”

Marsh nodded. “I still miss her. She was a great lady.” He grinned. “She knew how to manage my father better than anyone I’ve ever seen, including all his political advisors. ‘Now, Marcus,’ she’d say, ‘you just listen to me.’ And she’d tell him how it ought to be done. She was usually right on the money.”

“How about your dad’s new wife? Is she as adept politically?

Marsh looked vague. “She’s not Mom.”

“Will she be coming with him on Tuesday?”

Marsh took her elbow to lead her over the soft sand to the house. “I hope not. It’ll be easier on all of us.”

Abby wondered what that comment was supposed to mean.

An hour later with her hair combed, teeth brushed, lipstick on, and red pantsuit ironed, Abby entered Seaside Chapel with her parents. The chapel was a building of weathered cedar topped with a white steeple. It looked very seashoreish, pleasing Abby’s sense of place.

Abby didn’t know about her parents, but she wasn’t in a very worshipful mood. Neither Mom nor Dad had mentioned her temper tantrum and unprecedented flight, so she hadn’t broached the subject either. Instead, it hung in the air between them like a drunk’s giant pink elephant, unseen by everyone else but very present to them.

Oh, God, I’m afraid to talk about it with them! I’ll say things I’ll regret forever with my emotions as raw as they are right now. Please, Lord, show me how to be both independent and loving. Please! I’m so afraid that for us they are mutually exclusive
.

They were barely inside the front door of the chapel when Jess ran to Abby and grabbed her hand.

“We saved you places,” she said as she pulled Abby toward the
door to the sanctuary. “Mommy didn’t want to wait in the lobby with Karlee.”

Smiling, Abby let herself be pulled along. Her parents followed. It wasn’t until they were seated that she saw Marsh and a friend seated in the row ahead. After their meeting Friday morning, she had been so disappointed that her landlord was such a bear. Then she’d learned that he wasn’t. He was funny and kind and—be honest, girl—sometimes grouchy. But she liked him. He was going to make a wonderful friend to enjoy in her new life.

Everyone stood to sing a worship chorus, which was followed by a time of greeting one another. Abby watched Marsh turn to her parents.

“Mr. MacDonald.” He grinned a wide welcome as he stuck out his hand. “Mrs. MacDonald. So nice to have you visiting with us this morning.”

Her father tried to smile back. Her mother didn’t even make the attempt.

“Thank you,” she said abruptly, turning to Marsh’s friend.

With a shrug Marsh turned to Jess and Karlee. “I see a pair of princesses right here in my church,” he said with mock astonishment. “Beautiful princesses.”

“Oh, Dr. Winslow, we’re not princesses,” Karlee said earnestly. “We’re just Jess and Karlee.”

Marsh blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Why so you are.” He leaned forward. “But the beautiful part is true.”

The little girls giggled, happy with the compliment.

When Marsh reached for Abby’s hand, she saw his eyes were twinkling. “Just who are you this morning, if I may ask? Not a princess, I don’t think. Lydia, the seller of purple cloth who hosted a church in her house? Or maybe Phoebe, the deaconess who cared for those in need? You seem to be feeding the whole world up in your apartment. I’m sure you’re not Sapphira, the liar.”

Abby folded her arms, trying to look threatening. “How about Jael who put a tent peg through her enemy’s head?”

Marsh laughed in appreciation as he took his seat, and Abby felt pleased with herself. She made believe she didn’t see her parents’ horrified looks. It was amazing, but in two days, she was more at ease with Marsh the Grump, who wasn’t all that grumpy most of the time, than she’d ever been with Sam.

A shaft of sorrow pierced her heart, not because she missed Sam but because she and Sam had had so little. She never would have bantered with him about Jael. He’d have been horrified.

“I love your quiet and gentle spirit,” Sam had said over and over.

She used to think he was complimenting her, but now she wondered if he hadn’t been programming her. She missed the first part of Pastor Paul Trevelyan’s message as she thought about this new idea. It seemed that the longer she was a widow, the more she realized how unequal their partnership had been. Sam had dominated completely, and she had let him.

But she was breaking free!

“Come home with us,” Abby pressed Celia after the service. She needed a buffer to get her through the afternoon with the parents. “Karlee can sleep at my house as well as yours, and Jess can play with Walker and Jordan.”

Jess wrinkled her nose. “Not those two!” But she was barely out of the car before the boys ran over, and she went running onto the sand with them.

“Stay away from the water,” Celia called after her.

Jess nodded and waved.

When the adults and Karlee reached Abby’s porch, they could see Jess and the two boys digging in the wet sand, building a castle. There weren’t many people on the beach, June not being a month in which Seaside bulged with tourists and guests. It would be easy to keep an eye on the kids.

“I thought I’d send Dad for some fresh flounder and make us flounder stuffed with crabmeat,” Mom said as she turned from waving to Jess.

Abby’s hands were fists before she even realized it. “No, Mom. You are my guest.” She forced her hands open. “I’m in charge of the meal.”

“Nonsense, dear.” Mom pulled the sliding door open. “Feeding people is what I do best. Len, go to the seafood place over on Bay. Get me some flounder and crabmeat.”

Dad nodded, pulling his car keys back out of his pocket.

“No, Mom.” Abby’s voice was part steel, part desperation. She couldn’t let them take over her home. She couldn’t. She’d never be free if she did. “I am making dinner. You may sit on the porch and
read the paper or take a walk on the beach—whatever you want—but you are not making dinner. I am.”

Mom looked poleaxed. Dad looked angry. “Abby, that’s no way to speak to your mother.”

Quaking inside, Abby looked him in the eye. “I’m making dinner, Dad.”

“I’ll just help then,” Mom said, heading for the kitchen.

“No.” Abby stepped in front of her mother. “Celia will help me. You go find something to do until dinner’s ready.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, but Abby stood tall and unyielding. Dad broke first.

“Come on, Hannah. Let’s go take a walk.”

“Len.” Entreaty laced Mom’s voice.

He gave a little shake of his head and led the way to the stairs.

I feel like Alvild, the Swedish princess who defied her parents and ran away to become a successful pirate
. Abby rubbed her forehead as she walked into her kitchen.
At least I didn’t get even by becoming a pirate. Just a children’s librarian. And all I want to do is cook my own dinner in my own house!

H
ANNAH MACDONALD
walked to the car with Len. It was time to go home, back to Scranton, but she had a plan, a plan that Len had agreed to. Her heart beat against her ribs like a wild bird against the bars of a cage as she thought of carrying it out, but she was certain she was doing the right thing.

Help it work, Lord. Help it work
.

Len turned to her. “You’re sure?”

Hannah nodded. “We have to do something before it’s too late.”

“She’s not going to appreciate it.”

“Maybe not today, but she will later.” Hannah spoke with confidence. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s Abby’s heart.”

“You’re a good woman, Hannah MacDonald,” Len said as he leaned in and kissed her. “I think I’ll keep you.”

Hannah wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his chest. “Like you could get rid of me.”

They stood quietly, holding each other, until a red sports car pulled into the parking area, surprising them as it screeched to a stop inches from Len’s bumper, blocking his car in the drive. Marsh climbed out of the driver’s seat, a huge smile creasing his face.

A boy and his toy
, Hannah thought.
A rude, crude
boy and a flashy, trashy toy. Oh, dear Father, protect Abby from him!

The passenger side opened, and a very handsome man climbed out, his hand over his heart. “Remind me never to let
you
drive again,” he called to Marsh.

Hannah stared at the newcomer in astonishment. “He looks just like Rick Mathis,” she whispered to Len. Same tousled dark hair, same wonderful brown eyes, same shoulders stretching from here to there and back, same aura of power and masculinity.

“Who?” Len whispered.

“Duke Beldon.
A Man against the West
. Can’t you just see him sitting in the saddle or waving his gun at the bad guys?”

Len nodded. “Oh, yeah. Loved that show. But what would someone like that be doing with someone like Marsh Winslow?” Len said Marsh’s name with a distaste that matched Hannah’s own.

“I love it, Rick.” Marsh bounced on his toes with pleasure. “There’s no way I’m not driving that baby again.”

Rick looked resigned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

The men gave one last fond look at the little car and started for the house. Marsh seemed to suddenly see Hannah and Len. He stopped beside them. “Rick, meet Mr. and Mrs. MacDonald. Their daughter Abby is my upstairs tenant.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Rick with a charming smile. “I’m Rick Yakabuski. Let me know when you’re leaving. I’ll move my car for you.”

“I think you’ll need to move it right away.” Hannah smiled in apology at the young man as she pointed to the duffel Len carried.

Rick nodded, held out his hand, and caught the car keys when Marsh lobbed them to him. He folded himself into the little car, gunned the engine, and backed onto Central. With a wave he disappeared around the corner.

Len looked at Marsh. “We didn’t mean for him to leave.”

“He’s not leaving. He just couldn’t resist driving around the block. Or two. Or ten. Rick has a thing for that car.”

“I take it it’s new.”

Marsh shook his head, paused, then nodded.

Well, is it new or not? Yes or no? Seems a simple question with a simple answer to me
.

“It’s a rental,” he explained. “So it’s new because he never drove it before, but it’s not like it’s his personal new car.”

A rental? Hannah stared after Rick. You could rent cars like that? For how many million dollars? She eyed Marsh as he stood relaxed in his drive, gray T-shirt stretched across shoulders that rivaled Rick’s, jeans riding low on his hips, feet stuffed sockless into Top-Siders, and golden hair gleaming in the setting sun. Too attractive by half. Put him and Rick together, and women of all ages and sensibilities would experience heart palpitations. Add little red cars and houses on the beach, and women would topple like sand castles before the encroaching tide.

Just where did they get the money for such outlandish and wasteful perks? Drugs? Industrial espionage? Computer fraud? Mob connections? Surely there was no way to earn that much by legal means.

She squared her shoulders, more confident than ever that her plan was wise.

The little red car roared up to the curb and Rick climbed out. As he walked past, Len couldn’t resist. “Did anyone ever tell you—?”

Rick nodded, all but rolling his eyes. “All the time, especially since we have the same first name.” He followed Marsh to his porch. “Nice to have met you,” he called over his shoulder. Marsh threw a negligent wave.

Len flung his duffel into his trunk. “Well, hon, it’s time.”

“Hey, you two,” Abby called from the top of her stairs. “Trying to sneak off without saying good-bye?”

“Drat,” said Hannah as she smiled and waved. “Let’s go. Quick.”

As Abby made her slow way down the stairs, Len climbed behind the wheel. Hannah leaned in and kissed him.

“Same time next week,” she said. “I’ll miss you.”

Len kissed her again and put the car in reverse. He waved and called, “See you next Friday evening, Abby.” Then he was gone.

Abby halted on the bottom step, disbelief written all over her face. “Dad left without you.”

This, Hannah knew, was the crucial time. She nodded and smiled. “He’ll be back.”

“Next Friday.” Abby stared at her mother. “He left and you stayed.”

Hannah shrugged as she walked toward Abby. “Dad and I talked, and we decided you shouldn’t be left alone.”

“You decided what?”

Hannah didn’t like that tone of voice. “You’re not used to being alone, dear. You’ve never been alone in your life.”

“What if I want to be alone? What if I
yearn
to be alone?”

“Shush, baby.” Hannah put her finger to her daughter’s lips to quiet Abby’s rising voice. The last thing she wanted was for Marsh and his friend to be privy to their family business. Or the strange deMarcos next door, for that matter. “We know you’re having trouble adjusting. We want to be here for you.”

“I’m not having trouble adjusting,” Abby snapped. “I’m doing just fine.”

Hannah ignored her and kept talking. Abby had always been easy to talk over, easy to wear down. The girl’s innate politeness and malleable spirit would take over. Abby ended up listening and agreeing. Hannah gave an encouraging smile. “You don’t know anybody here, and I worry about you, you know.”

“I do too know people. I know Marsh and Celia and the deMarcos and Sean Schofield. I’ll know my coworkers after tomorrow and will work in a public place where I can meet people all the time. What do you mean, I don’t know anybody? I think that for two days in town, I’ve done very well.”

Once again Hannah made believe she hadn’t been interrupted. “I don’t want to lose any beauty sleep fretting over you. At my age I can’t afford to, you know.” She smiled at her own little joke.

Abby seemed to find nothing funny in what she said. She just stood, staring belligerently. One day knowing Marsh Winslow hadn’t made the girl that rude, had it? “Dad has to go to work this week or he would have stayed too. When he comes back on Friday, he’ll be here with us for two weeks. Won’t that be fun?”