Lakeshore Candy: The McAdams Sisters (By The Lake Book 4) Page 8

  Mrs. C’s beige Chrysler Sebring was waiting across the road from the bakery in the slanted parking along the boardwalk. The beach spanned out with colorful umbrellas dug into the sand still packed like sardines with tourists.

  “You look very handsome, Riley,” Mrs. C said as he buckled up.

  “Thanks.”

  She’d left her white apron and hair net in the bakery in exchange for a matching pink floral pant set and with her grey curls loose.

  “You’re looking lovely Mrs. C. As per usual.”

  She waggled a finger at him, her cheeks flushing with color. “Dani always said you had charm of the tongue.”

  Dani?

  He tried to not to shift uncomfortably at the casual mention of the name. Instead, he sent a wink as she pulled out and headed in the opposite direction of the Cliff House, exactly as Riley had suspected. Riley didn’t know where she was taking him and didn’t ask. They silently drove out of town parking in Willow Valley’s cemetery and walking to Grace’s headstone.

  She carried the bouquet of gladiolas she’d retrieved from the back seat and laid the colorful bouquet on the ground beside another bunch of yellow gladiolas.

  Riley hadn’t been back here since Grace’s funeral where he’d felt drawn to Abby across the casket as the minister said a few words. That was the afternoon after they spent their first day together. The quietest day he’d ever spent with Abby.

  Now, he stood quietly with Mrs. C wondering why she was so secretive about coming here. Her next words answered his question.

  “It’s time for you to go back, Riley,” she said. The words seemed spontaneous but he knew it was planned before she’d extended the invitation.

  “I’m not going back.” He knew exactly where back was.

  “Riley I’m not one to pry into other people’s business. I’m the support that people need to get through hard times. If they need to talk, or cry, or if they want my opinion I will give it, but it’s only my opinion. I don’t expect them to abide to my every word. Everyone is different, and everyone deals with life differently. Just because I might deal with it one way doesn’t make it right compared to the way another person might deal with it.” She paused and Riley prepared himself for what was about to follow. “But for you, I know it’s time for you to stop hiding behind the curtain of my bakery. You need to hang up your apron and go home.” There it was and damned if it didn’t steal his breath away. “I know that deep down you can feel it too and I’m sure that scares the hell out of you.”

  Mrs. C had no idea the terror of returning home sent through his body. There was so much he had left and so much he feared to face.

  “You pulled yourself out of a deep dark hole when I found you,” she continued.

  “You pulled me out,” he clarified.

  “You let me.”

  When Mrs. C had set him up in her apartment, she hadn’t asked for an explanation, his past, nothing. She’d simply set her rules: no drinking, no drugs, and start working at the bakery to pay rent. The apartment was his as long as he needed it and he was free to leave when he was ready. He wasn’t ready.

  “There’s nothing there for me.”

  “Everything’s there for you Riley. Including your sister.”

  The mention of Cece brought that familiar gut wrenching feeling that took over his body. There was so much guilt in his past.

  “You’ve punished yourself long enough,” Mrs. C said.

  He didn’t want to talk about the prospect of leaving, knowing he was never going to follow through. At the same time he didn’t want to hurt the woman who had saved him when he didn’t deserve saving.

  “It wouldn’t be fair...”

  “It’s not fair that you are wasting your life sitting back and watching everyone else live their lives.”

  “Why?” It came out so much harsher than he’d planned, but his insides were suddenly full of emotion. “Why now after two years? Why you of all people are trying to force my hand? Do you really think I deserve to go back and live the life that was the most important thing to me? Enjoy it? Bask in it? Revel in what I have accomplished and go back to the same selfish arrogant prick I was?”

  “Yes!”

  “That doesn’t make any sense!”

  She turned and faced him head on with that strong Mrs. C stare that could make the most fearless man take a step back. Riley remained planted. He deserved whatever she was ready to dish out.

  “In the last two years you have never had a single emotion like the ones I witnessed this morning.”

  “Abby and I are friends. Whatever you saw between us...” What? It doesn’t exist? He couldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t lie to her. “It’s just lust. And trust me I have had enough lust to last me a lifetime. I don’t deserve...”

  “Oh, stop saying you don’t deserve.”

  “Stop telling me I do.”

  “No!”

  He stopped short at her declaration and suddenly guilt trapped him again and his anger fell. He was yelling at Mrs. C.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, sucking in a deep breath and pushing it out, feeling he didn’t deserve it either.

  Mrs. C touched his arm and squeezed. “I’m not talking about lust Riley. You two have been playing the lust game for a year and you two are only fooling yourselves.”

  What was she talking about then? Did he even want to actually know?

  “I’m talking about the fear, worry, and concern across your face for Abby when you burst into the bakery.”

  Damn it.

  “I’m also talking about the relief when you found her safe.”

  Double damn.

  “Before the guilt of having an emotion when you saw me. Guilt,” she repeated the word forcefully. “Guilt wakes you up in the morning to stare at the wall thinking you don’t deserve to wake up. Guilt drags you down to my bakery to go about the day making sure everything runs smoothly for me. Guilt keeps you at arm’s length with Abby because...why should you be happy? And guilt keeps you from yelling your true feelings at me. Am I right?”

  Right on target.

  She nodded, even without having to answer her. “Guilt is not an emotion that a selfish arrogant prick possesses.”

  She was saying he’d changed, but what would he be when he returned? Would he roll back into the life that had turned him into the selfish arrogant prick in the first place?

  “Riley?”

  He was staring so hard at the flowers she’d laid across the grave that it had all blurred into a mass of color. Or was there water in his eyes? There was no damn way it was tears. Why would he be tearing up? He wasn’t a little boy.

  “Riley?” she said softly, squeezing his arm and trying to get him to look at her. He didn’t want to. “Riley?” she repeated.

  Taking a deep breath, he found he wasn’t the only one tearing up.

  “I’m proud of you and at the same time I’m holding you back.”

  What was she talking about?

  “You have been too hard on yourself. You were not at fault that night.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she hushed him. They’d never talked about this before.

  “You two were the same, living on the edge and not prepared for the responsibilities of a relationship.”

  “That’s not a very good excuse.”

  “Riley you need to forgive yourself and let go of the guilt you carry. I forgive you Riley. I want to see you happy and living the life God put you on this earth to live. Stop holding yourself back and open up to the possibility that there could be happiness in your life.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  She took a deep breath and wrapped her arm around his, leaning against his side. “I know it isn’t. Trust me I know,” she breathed out. “But I think...no, I know...that you are ready to take the next step in your life. Maybe it’s not going back to Oakston yet, but a phone call to your sister, opening up to Abby...those might be your first steps. Take your first step. I am here to support
you all the way.”

  Riley felt overwhelmed with her words. Mrs. C forgave him. If she could forgive him, then shouldn’t he forgive himself? If she wanted him to move on with his life after that night, shouldn’t he allow himself to...if anything...consider the possibility of moving on?

  It was a confusing combination stampeding through his body. This morning Mrs. C had told him what he meant to her and now she forgave him and a rush slammed into his body. He wasn’t ready to face Oakston, but the protectiveness he’d always felt for his sister surfaced and he wanted to phone her. He wanted to talk to Abby about what was going on between them instead of hiding behind their friendship. All these prospects were only made possible by Mrs. C. She knew it and she’d given him the go ahead.

  He had a lot to think about.

  Chapter Twelve

  “YOU LOOK LIKE Grandpa.” Sitting on the floor, Abby yanked the edge of the army jacket Avery was wearing to straighten it. “I love it.”

  Avery admired himself in the mirror first sideways then the other way totally checking himself out.

  Abby laughed. She missed her brother.

  “I could totally pull this off,” he said.

  He could. The jacket was vintage, but modern reproductions lined the clothing stores and it fit his body perfect.

  “Take it.”

  Abby didn’t feel like she had claim over anything in the attic. Gran may have left her the house, but all her siblings were welcome to whatever they wanted.

  “The sisters are meeting us at the Cliff House for supper and drinks. Dad and Elaine are taking an all-inclusive trip to one of Marc’s resorts. Dad will be excited to see you when he gets back.”

  Avery sat cross-legged in front of Abby. “How is Dad?” She hated the way his face looked sad as he asked.

  Abby sent him an encouraging smile. “Dad is good. Dad is great!” She threw her hands in the air. Avery had lived with Kent during the years of his alcohol recovery. They had been the hardest years on both of them, and still the proudest. Avery had put his band on the back burner for many years as he stood by his father’s side. Now that he was starting to tour with his band, he worried about his father...all the time.

  Avery chuckled and she enjoyed the tense muscles relaxing his forehead. “You’re such a dork.”

  “Seriously though. Elaine has been amazing for Dad. After they were married, he moved in with her and kept the house. I don’t know if it’s for you in case your music career fails.”

  Avery threw a hat at her and she laughed.

  “I’m kidding, Avery. He believes in your success like I do.” Seeing the satisfied relief cross his face she changed her tune. That was enough sappy talk. “Did you hear about the laundry room?”

  He made a face. “Yes! Peyton texted me...very detailed. Gross! Like gross. I don’t want to hear it in person.”

  Abby laughed at the face he made recalling the details of this February when Peyton and Kate went home and they walked into their dad’s laundry room and found him and Elaine in the middle of making love on the dryer. No one had even known their dad was seeing Elaine.

  After a good amount of laughter passed between Abby and Avery, she asked what she’d been dying to since she saw her talented brother whose unique music would make it huge once they signed to a label.

  “Tell me about your tour.” She clasped her hands together in excited anticipation. He’d sent texts and phoned but it was nothing like first-hand detail.

  His face lit up. Avery loved his music. “Awesome. We blanketed the country. We started on one side and worked our way across and it was exhausting.” It was hard to get established for an indie band and Abby was so proud of him putting his music out there.

  “Did you write some new stuff while you were on the road?”

  Avery had a passion for writing.

  He shrugged. “Yeah.” His reluctance was new to her. He’d always pulled his guitar out at the mention of his lyrics and strummed away for her. He could strum away for hours, one song after another with a new idea to follow.

  “Can I hear it?” New music...her ears couldn’t wait. Then she drew her brows together.

  “Where’s your guitar?” She hadn’t seen it on him when he walked in or any time since.

  He shrugged. “In the van.”

  “You left it in the van?” Avery would never leave his guitar in a vehicle. It was strapped to his back or safely stashed inside.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Seriously?”

  He glared at her.

  “What are you glaring at me for?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Hmmm. A lot of that going around lately.

  “Is Drew at his dad’s place?”

  Another shrug...and was that anger in his expression? Something happened.

  “How is Drew?” she inquired, closely watching his expression deepen with anger.

  Drew and Avery had been best friends since public school. They’d started the band together adding Ems for vocals and the banjo and Sean on keyboard. They were all amazing friends, but almost nine months of touring across the country would bring out a person’s true colors.

  “Ask him,” Avery retorted, then went back to examining his good looks in the mirror.

  “I’m asking you.”

  Avery stood and walked across the attic then kicked a box sending it flying and Abby jumped out of her skin.

  She leapt to her feet. “Jesus Avery. What the hell?”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fine. You don’t have to go around breaking Gran’s stuff. This is all we have left of her.” She was sad for her brother, but furious at his actions.

  His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, Abby.”

  What had happened between the two of them? She didn’t dare press just yet.

  Abby couldn’t stay mad at her brother long especially when he looked...heartbroken? She crossed the attic wrapping her arms around his waist. He smelled like a gym bag and needed a shower.

  “You stink. Let’s stop in the soap store, catch up with the sisters, then go up to the Cliff House. Shower before we go.”

  He squeezed her. “I love you too.” He pulled away. “Now distract me and tell me what you’re really doing up here.”

  Distract him. It saddened her that her brother needed distracting whatever was bothering him. At the same time, this was not the topic she wanted to discuss with him.

  It was her turn to shrug. “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes you are. You’re hiking one brow up to your hairline. Come on, I’m your twin brother. Talk to me.”

  “Gran wants me to find something in the attic.” She held her breath waiting for his reaction, purposely leaving out her wicked dreams.

  He folded his arms, making the jacket pull across the width of his workout torso. Abby liked to run. Avery liked to pump weights.

  “Did she tell you this before or after she died?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not crazy.”

  “I didn’t say you were crazy.”

  She shouldn’t have brought it up. “I had a dream last night and woke up with this feeling in my guy that there was something up here she wanted me to find.”

  One dream. That was good. A feeling in your gut. Sounds reasonable. Don’t get into the night terrors spent at Riley’s apartment, then he would think she was crazy for sure.

  “Maybe it’s the jacket on your back,” she suggested.

  “Okay. I will leave you at it,” he said, backing toward the stairs. “I’m going to shower.” With that, he disappeared down the ladder and she took the opportunity to dig a little more.

  Finding a box of old letters, she started shuffling through them when Avery called her down. He had finished his shower and was ready to go. She’d lost track of time. She carried the box to the mattress on the far side of the attic. It would give her something to read tonight and may
be stop her from thinking about Riley’s kiss.

  In her bedroom, Abby quickly changed into something a little more nighttime fun: a black mini dress with spike heels. She fluffed her blonde hair and applied an extra thick coat of makeup.

  When she emerged Avery was waiting in the kitchen sending, what appeared from the pinched look on his face, hate texts through his phone.

  “Ready?” she asked, not daring to ask what had his smooth face twisted in a balloon shape animal.

  He looked up still a bit agitated. “Couldn’t you have gotten ready while I got ready then I wouldn’t be waiting a half hour for you?” Crank at her because he was having hate texts...

  “Oh pull the guitar out of your ass and let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  AFTER STOPPING BY the shop, the five siblings drove their separate cars to the Cliff House.

  The Cliff House was a fancy restaurant during the day and a busy nightspot, especially for tourists during the seasonal months. That was one of the reasons Abby and Izzy frequented the Cliff House, to meet new people instead of the same locals.

  Sydney was planning on disappearing once they walked through the oversized, double wooden doors. The Cliff House had originally been a small stone house before Jake’s dad built the three-story wood and glass bar and grill attached to the back. It was incredible architectural work and overlooking the cliff to the lake making it no surprise that it was a hot spot in Willow Valley.

  Her sister was on a search for her newlywed husband Jake, who she complained didn’t have his cell phone attached to his hip like Marc and Colt. They were more up-to-date with technology than Jake.

  Jake was the other reason Abby frequented the Cliff House. He was like family. So as Sydney was lightly complaining, walking across the brick parking lot, she wasn’t a regular complainer to start with, Abby threw in the comment, “Give the man a break. He’s got the cell phone thing all figured out. When you find him in his office after all day of not talking to each other there’s going to be animal office sex.”