“Not fast enough,” Ginny muttered. Resigned, she pasted on her hostess face. She was pretty good at it considering she’d been raised without the benefit of a mother’s guiding hand.
After the first doorbell chime, she counted to five, then opened the front door. “Kaley, Sharon, how nice to see you. Please,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open wide, “come in.”
“Hi, Ms. Landry.” Kaley twirled around as she walked past Ginny, while eyeing her up and down. “Wow, you look hot. Big plans tonight?”
Ginny laughed. “Hot?”
“Oh, Kaley, mind your manners,” Sharon said, doing her share of sizing up Ginny’s lime-green sundress.
“It’s not like I dissed her.” Kaley rolled her eyes. “Mom, you’re so out of touch.”
Well, at least she hadn’t called her mom old.
Sharon ignored her daughter and, as expected, walked straight to the living room window. “I can’t get over this view. It’s simply breathtaking.”
“You say that every time,” Kaley muttered, shaking her head and looking at Ginny. “Okay if I go up to Tilda’s room?”
The words had barely left her mouth when Tilda shouted out. “Come here, Kaley! I need help deciding on a pair of jeans.”
Frowning, Ginny stopped her. “You guys are only going camping, right?”
Kaley nodded, walking backward to the staircase. “She’s just being lame.”
Ginny had rarely experienced any trouble with Tilda. She was a model child in so many ways. And her friends were all bright, sensible kids much like Tilda. So why the niggling suspicion that something was off?
Perhaps it had nothing to do with her daughter, Ginny thought as she dutifully walked into the living room. She’d been looking forward to this weekend for months. Yes, it would be sad without Meg attending the reunion. In preparation, Ginny had given herself pep talks all week so she wouldn’t shortchange the friends who would be there or cheat herself out of enjoying some adult company for a change. A little time away from the piano wouldn’t hurt either. She’d been practicing like a madwoman for the past seven months, ever since the Rhode Island Philharmonic had invited her to be a guest soloist.
Sharon turned away from the window to smile at Ginny. “You’re so lucky you work at home. I don’t think I could drag myself away from this view,” she said, sighing. “But, then, you lead such an exciting life.”
At first Ginny was speechless, then she burst out laughing. “You have me confused with someone else.”
“Well, isn’t being a member of the orchestra exciting enough for you?” Sharon laughed. “I’d be taking out an ad in the newspaper.”
“I’ve performed as a guest soloist twice,” she said carefully, not wishing to let anything slip or start a rumor. “But that’s all.”
Sharon frowned. “I heard you’re supposed to go on tour with them.”
Ginny hesitated. The director had spoken with her, but nothing was actually settled. “Where did you hear that?”
“I’m not sure. Oh, wait. It was Jane Winthrop.”
“Well, apparently Jane knows more than I do,” Ginny said, then realized she didn’t even know a Jane Winthrop.
It was tempting to ask about the woman and how she’d come about the information. Ginny decided it would be wiser to simply drop the subject. The last thing she wanted was to become fodder for gossip. She’d been there, done that after she’d dropped out of Juilliard all those years ago.
* * *
AFTER TURNING HIS rented Jeep over to the valet, Parker Nolan slipped off his aviator sunglasses. Seaside on the Bluff hadn’t existed the last time he’d been to Temptation Bay. The large showy resort had replaced a small, early-1900s’ hotel. But then, a lot had changed in fifteen years. Including him.
“Sir?”
Parker turned to the valet.
The young man—Rafael, according to his name tag—held up the black leather bag Parker had left on the floor of the passenger side. “Did you forget this? Or would you like for me to call a luggage attendant?”
“I don’t have a reservation.”
“Ah.”
Parker hadn’t expected to get a room at the last minute, and judging by all the cars and taxis crowding the porte cochere, he was right. “You know of any place that might have a vacancy?”
“We’ve got a big class reunion and a golf tournament this weekend,” Rafael said, shaking his head. “Between the two I doubt you’re going to find anything nearby.”
“What about that old turquoise motel on Highway 1. Is it still there?”
“Yeah, but the place—” He lowered his voice. “It’s kind of a dump.”
Well, that hadn’t changed. Parker dug into his pocket and gave the kid a five. “Thanks. I shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”
Parker headed toward the glass doors, rubbing the stubble along his jaw, wondering if he shouldn’t have found a room first. He could use a shower, and definitely a shave, after the long flight. Eighteen hours ago he’d been unloading the cargo he’d delivered to a backwoods town in northern Alaska when he’d received the call sending him on this fool’s errand.
He wasn’t going to find his sister. Not here in Temptation Bay, or anywhere else. It was obvious that Meg didn’t want to be found. She hadn’t surfaced in fifteen years, not even to attend their father’s funeral. And then a year ago the random Facebook communications had ceased altogether. Parker’s assumption that his mom had finally accepted that Meg was lost to them had shattered the moment he’d answered her phone call yesterday.
It was unclear how she’d learned of the reunion, but that wasn’t important. After he followed this last shred of hope, he was going to tell her he was done. Finished. Not that she asked him very often. But this time would be the last. There was no reason to keep opening the wound. No more chasing ghosts or shadows. He and his mom had come out of hiding over thirteen years ago. She was remarried to a nice man, a dentist from Idaho who kept regular hours and put her before his job. It was time she accepted that Meg was never coming back.
At least when he’d gone to ground, he hadn’t cut himself out of his mother’s life completely. Meg, for whatever reason, had vanished without a word. He hoped it was because it was her choice, even if he wished she could have been kinder about it.
The important thing was that his mother was finally happy. Now, if she could just let go of Meg. Not forget her, but accept that maybe Meg was just like their old man. She’d had plenty of opportunities to reach out, give their mom some peace of mind. Instead, Meg’s Facebook posts had dwindled to nothing. Keeping her secrets was clearly more important to her than her family.
The
