Tangled Love on Pelican Point (Island County Series Book 3) (13 page)

My dad opened the door and grumbled something I couldn’t understand, but I assumed it had to do with going to bed for the night. Natalie and I walked down the hall and saw he’d already made it into his bedroom. I stood in the hall and glanced at the pictures of my brother and me dotting the beige wall. My mom had put them up, and my dad had never taken them down.

“Do you need any help, Dad?” I called out, not wanting him to think I didn’t believe he couldn’t get himself ready for the night.

No reply meant he was doing okay, and I began to relax as we walked back into the living room.

“You honestly don’t need to stay. I’m doing fine, and we’ll be fine.” I smiled, taking a seat on the couch.

“I’m already here and would rather sleep than drive.” She blew a kiss and turned around to head down the stairs before I had time to protest. I didn’t know what I’d do without her, and she was right. I needed sleep.

I opened up the leather ottoman to find several blankets, which I pulled out and arranged on the couch. I stole a few pillows from the suede armchair and made myself as comfortable as possible on a decades-old couch. Just as my eyes closed and I almost drifted to sleep, my phone buzzed.

Thinking it was Natalie texting good night, I grabbed my phone from the end table and glanced at the message. It was from Anthony.

It sounds like the talk didn’t go as planned. I’m here if you need an ear.

My brows furrowed in confusion, and I quickly texted back.

Why are you still up, and who told you?

He texted back.

I’m out with friends. Cole filled me in so I’d quit pestering him.

Even with the heaviness of the night, my belly flipped at the thought that Anthony gave me two thoughts once he touched down in LA. But my mind also zeroed in on the fact that it was Friday night, and Anthony was out with friends in the middle of the night while I was staying in, dealing with family issues.

Thanks for checking. Everything’s fine.

I saw Anthony writing back, and I waited somewhat impatiently.

Everything is not fine, and I want to help.

We were definitely from two different planets.

I appreciate your kindness, but there’s nothing you can do. And I’m not sure I can even handle your project any longer. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. Enjoy the rest of your evening.

He wrote back instantly, and I envisioned him sitting in the corner booth at some swanky nightclub while his friends laughed and joked around the table, and he kept his phone in one hand, staring at the screen.

You’d be surprised at what I can do, but don’t make any decisions until Monday. Hold onto your dreams. Don’t let one U-turn discourage you.

This was what he didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, because our lives were so opposite. My life didn’t hit a hiccup. It was full of wrong ways and U-turns.

While you’re enjoying bottle service and busy not writing your next album, I’m just trying to survive. So while I appreciate your sentiment, you could never understand where I’m coming from, and I would never ask you, or anyone, for that matter, for help. But thank you.

He wrote back a simple one-liner.

You’re wrong.

I rolled my eyes and placed my phone on the table. The Hill brothers always had it all, and that luck followed them into adulthood. Anthony had absolutely no idea what it meant to have a bowl of cereal for dinner because that was all that was in the cupboard and payday wasn’t for another two days. He had no idea what it was like to have a family split up and fracture into strangers, who couldn’t even bear to be in the same room.

And he certainly didn’t understand what it felt like to put dreams on hold indefinitely. So while he was busy living his dream, I needed to invent my new reality, one that didn’t borrow on blind hope and mistaken chance. I had a family to support and bills to pay, and with that last thought, I felt into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The doorbell chimed over my head, spinning me right off the couch with my heart pounding and my fists ready for a fight. The early morning light blazed through the living room window as I untangled myself from the pile of blankets and crawled to my knees. I glanced out the living room window, not seeing a soul.

Yawning, I wiped the sleep away from my eyes and trudged toward the door, peeking out the peephole of the front door.

Mary Stapleton stared back at me in a nurse’s uniform, holding a large bag and a clipboard. Her finger moved toward the doorbell again, but I flung open the door just in time.

“Hey, Mary. Can I help you with something?”

Her silver-flecked auburn hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her lavender headband securely plastered any flyaway strands to her head. The lack of makeup on her face only showed off her beautiful features even more.

“Mr. Hill sent me over.” She glanced inside the home and brought her gaze back to mine.

“Cole sent you over? He must want his fiancée back.” I laughed, leaning against the door.

“Not Cole. Anthony. Anthony Hill,” Mary said, pressing her lips together to hide a smile. There was something about Anthony that just made women swoon, no matter the age. I pushed the thought aside and stared at her.

“Anthony Hill instructed me to arrive at eight o’clock. He wanted me to give you this.” She wiggled an envelope free from her clipboard and handed it to me.

The morning temperature was frigid, and I realized I couldn’t let Mary freeze to death on the stoop while I tried to figure out what was going on. I quickly invited her in, and she gladly accepted the invitation to step inside.

Her eyes fell to the pile of blankets on the couch and floor.

“It’s not as comfortable as it looks,” I joked.

“Well, it doesn’t look particularly comfortable at all.” She smiled.

“Exactly.”

“Is your father up?” Mary asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“Shall we go over everything?” Her eyes fell to the envelope. “Or would you like a moment to read what’s inside? I’d like to do an evaluation and figure out the best care plan for his needs and yours.”

Her words banged around in my head. I couldn’t afford this kind of care. I needed to buy myself some time.

“I probably need a moment. Would you like some coffee? I’m about to make a pot.” I grabbed my phone.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Mary had always been extremely friendly, but she had her professional hat on and seemed far more reserved than normal.

I’d known Mary for as long as I’d been on the island. She’d worked off and on at the hospital while her kids grew up, and then her daughter, Eileen, became a CNA after Mary opened up a healthcare agency. Eileen was only a year or two younger than me, and we’d gotten to know each other over the years. I also knew Eileen was the caregiver who helped Anthony when he’d broken his foot several months back. She’d given me the inside scoop and confirmed many of my suspicions about his type.

I measured the ground beans and poured the water into the coffeepot, trying to put off opening the letter. I didn’t feel comfortable accepting help from Anthony, and I certainly couldn’t imagine a legitimate reason in the world for him to send Mary over to provide her services. As the coffee brewed, I took a deep breath in and slid my finger along the envelope, popping the flap open.

It was a letter to Mary from Anthony, informing her of our needs and directing his account to be charged for care. It was dated yesterday with an early-evening timestamp. He’d sent the email to Mary before I’d even arrived at my dad’s. This was before my stepmom surprised us all by taking off.

But would she return?

My hands trembled at the enormous generosity, but I was unable to accept this gift . . . or whatever he might call it. There had to be another way, and I was determined to figure out what it was. One thing in life had become abundantly clear, and that was that I didn’t want to owe anyone anything.

Mary wandered into the kitchen and stood next to me.

“He wanted me to tell you that he needs your help on his home, and the best way to ensure a job well done is to take care of any distractions that might creep up.” She reached for a coffee mug that hung from the stand and poured a cup of coffee, sliding it toward me. “So you had no idea he had this planned?”

I shook my head. “We barely know one another. I only agreed to help him decorate his house.”

“All island kids know one another.” She smiled and glanced around the kitchen. I was grateful that Natalie and I had managed to pick up a little last night. “We take care of each other on Fireweed.”

“I’m friends with his brother Cole, but beyond bumping into each other as kids, I honestly didn’t know him until a week ago. And this” —I waved the letter— “is too much.”

“You’ve obviously made an impression.”

I shook my head. “I think he got bored his last week on the island.”

“So how has your father’s care been going?” she asked, keeping the conversation on track.

“Cindy, my stepmom, was taking care of the day-to-day tasks, and I’d help whenever I could.”

“What about his speech and occupational therapy?”

“The insurance stopped covering that months ago, so we continued where they left off, and I found things online to help.”

She nodded. “Well, we can bring in our therapists and see how far we can get.”

I shook my head. “I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to waste your time, but I can’t accept your services. I have no way to repay him, and I never will.”

“Anthony’s already been charged for the day, so let’s see what we can get done and look at how we can organize your dad’s medical needs.”

I let out a deep sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get very far. Mary obviously had instructions.

“So your stepmom takes care of his daily needs.”

“Well . . .” I cleared my throat. “She did until last night. She just left my dad.”

Mary’s eyes widened and she looked out the window. “Oh, dear.”

“But she might be back.” I slumped into the chair as the reality from the night before slammed into me. “Anyway, I need to call Anthony and tell him there’s no—”

“You can’t trust the tabloids. It could’ve been an old photograph,” Natalie interrupted. I glanced behind me as she came into the kitchen.

“Huh?” I asked, completely mystified. “A photo? What are you talking about?”

Natalie—still in yesterday’s outfit, her brown hair tangled, and eyeliner halfway down her cheek—glanced at me and then over at Mary. “Hey, Mary. What’s going on? Did Sophie call you?”

“She didn’t. Anthony did.” Mary’s brows rose. “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. Can I see the ring?”

Natalie held up her fingers and wiggled them.

“Beautiful,” Mary gushed as my mind spun to Natalie’s words. There were a couple of things that stopped time for some women on Fireweed, and those were engagement rings and newborn babies. I didn’t fall into that group, because neither of those things did it for me.

“It is,” I agreed. “But can we get back to what you said on your way into the kitchen, Natty?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Natalie mumbled, lumbering toward the coffeepot.

“You said something about photographs,” Mary said. “And tabloids.”

“Oh, nothing. I thought I misunderstood what Sophie was talking about.”

I studied her and could tell she was lying, but now wasn’t the time.

“I was just telling Mary that I couldn’t accept Anthony’s help. We come from very different worlds, and I don’t feel comfortable with what he’s trying to do.”

“Your worlds aren’t that different,” Mary said, taking a seat at the table.

“Ha,” I erupted.

Natalie started to open her mouth but closed it quickly.

“He came from a wealthy family—a perfect family—and went on to travel the world and conquer the music industry. My family is about as screwed up as a family can be, and I’m about to move back in with my dad at the age of thirty.”

Mary took in a deep breath, and I noticed Natty bite her lip as she debated what to say.

“Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep and I’m all over the place,” I said half-apologetically.

Natalie’s eyes connected with mine, and a grimace surfaced along her pretty features.

“They didn’t have a perfect family,” Natalie said, taking a sip of her coffee. “Far from it.”

“How do you figure?” I asked, picking up my phone and sliding it on.

Without thinking, I glanced at Yahoo News and my breath caught.

Splashed across the front page of the screen was a photo of Anthony biting it on the sidewalk. He looked completely out of it, a leg up in the air and squinting at the cameras with a hand up as several women, dressed in tiny sparkly dresses, surrounded him. Mary’s and Natalie’s voices turned into a low hum as I clicked on the article.

Several more pictures of him popped up on the screen, and my heart literally stopped as I witnessed how he’d spent last night. He was dressed in the same clothes as when I’d met him at the library, even with the beanie still pulled over his head. My stomach started churning as I glanced up to see Natalie watching me.