The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) (7 page)

“So, who is this woman you met?” she asked between coos to his nephew, Max.

“I don’t
know
her, per se, but . . .” He let that trail off. He didn’t even know what he was talking about. He was thinking of Natalie, but he was just conjuring this up now. Natalie probably thought he was some deranged lunatic, abandoning dates on his patio or getting them drunk and letting them wander, naked, into the freezing Pacific.

A wave of mortification had gone through him when he’d realized that Natalie had doubted Alice’s safety. He’d seen her eyeing Alice warily when she’d first approached. But once that disturbing realization had passed, he’d taken a deep breath and admired the gesture. Most women—or even men, for that matter—would probably have let the whole scene slip right past them, assuming it was what it was: a date splashed with too much alcohol and going a bit awry. But, in truth, admiration swept over him that Natalie hadn’t been afraid to intervene and possibly come to the rescue of another woman. Which was why he’d let her come inside and analyze as much as she wanted.

“Well, what does she do?”

“I’m, uh . . . I’m not really sure.”

“Where does she live?”

“A few houses down, I think, on the beach?”

“How old is she?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my age?”

A deep sigh sounded. “Elliott, this sounds like someone you
saw
, not someone you
met
. Please, let’s just get through the next three dates. Trust me. These are good, caring women. I saved the best for last.”

“Nell, let me take care of my own dating life. I need to get back to work, and—”

“If you wait until you have a break in work, you’ll never meet anyone.
Please
, Elliott. Just these last three. I already set them up. After that, I promise I’ll back off.”

Elliott ran his hand through his hair. “Really?”

“I’m that confident.”

“Okay.”

Having Nell finally back out of his business would be a relief. Maybe then she’d just go to Italy with Jim and live the life they were meant to live. And he could stop feeling guilty for being such an albatross around their necks.

“Three then,” he said. “But I have to work until seven tomorrow.” Beautiful visions of quietude to study his slides danced before him.

“I’ll make you reservations at a restaurant so you don’t have to do the whole thing at your place. How about eight o’clock?”

“All right.”

That might be less stressful. He could pay the check when they were done and leave. The whole thing could be contained to just an hour or two.

“Good night, Elliott. Don’t stay up all night . . . Sunrises.”

He smiled.

“Sunrises” was what he and Nell used to say to each other when they were kids to get each other through the night. She’d told him to always picture the sunrise, to know it was coming, to conjure it behind his eyelids, and to watch as it came up over the ocean. It had worked. It had gotten him through two decades of nightmares.

“Sunrises, Nell.”

He clicked off the phone and turned to his notes, where he always felt safe.

CHAPTER 6

Natalie spent the next day trying to be a mini-Olivia. She waited with Lily in front of the red-tile-roofed first-grade classrooms until the first school bell rang, and chatted with the other moms; she arranged with another mother to drop Lily off for a playdate after school; she popped into a cute little craft store on Main Street to find foam letters for a Brownies project and met the woman who owned the shop. She picked up Olivia’s dry cleaning and chatted with Mr. Hale the dry cleaner, then stopped at Jon’s post-office box to pick up his mail, where Mrs. Conner, the post-office worker, asked all about Jon and Olivia.

The only kink in her day came when she had to take the midmorning ferry all the way to the mainland to look at phones again. After the two-hour trek, she stood at the kiosks, staring at possibilities.

“What can I help you with?” asked the phone technician. Young guy, kind of geeky like Dr. Nerd. Only he didn’t look at her intensely. Or with curiosity in his eyes. His empty gaze went straight to her breasts.

“I’m just looking for a replacement phone,” she said. “I’m trying to decide between these two.”

He pulled himself together and explained the features. His voice had a condescending note to it, as if she didn’t understand pixels or SIM cards.

“I’ll think these over,” she finally said. She needed one more day to weigh everything. Two-year contracts made her break into a sweat. But she had to do something.

As she rode the ferry back, she found herself breathing in the salt air along with a sigh of relief as she came upon the welcoming, palm-tree-lined roads of the island. Lavender Island did have a cozy, accepting feel about it. Natalie adjusted her earbuds, turned up the Jack Johnson tunes on her MP3 player, and leaned over the ferry railing.

Okay, here’s what she would do about the phone: She’d borrow
half
the money from Olivia. But she’d pay her back. They’d write up a contract and everything. It was a step in the right direction, at least. Or a half step . . .

She hustled off the ferry and over to the golf cart, then gunned it up the hilly, winding road out of the harbor. She was proud of herself for looking straight ahead, not even glancing at the road that led to the Friends of the Sea Lion center, not even letting Dr. Nerd enter her thoughts for more than ten seconds this time.

She spotted the entrance to the island’s only supermarket and pulled over sharply behind a large wooden wagon filled with fresh flowers. She’d pick up a few groceries before heading back to Olivia’s. First up were some Froot Loops.

As she wandered through the aisles, basket on her arm, she heard two women giggling. She turned the corner and ran almost basket-first into none other than Doris, who was standing with another woman, heads bent over a row of paperbacks.

“Have you read
this
one?” Doris was asking. “It’s not quite erotica, but I love it anyway. The hero is a cowboy, and he rides the heroine like—oh! Natalie!” She made room for Natalie in their semicircle. “Hello! It
is
Natalie, right?”

“Yes. Hi, Doris.”

“I was just telling Marie here about this hot, sexy novel. Marie, meet Natalie. She’s the beauty who came to see Dr. Sherman yesterday. Natalie, this is Marie. She volunteers at the center, too. Do you read Madame X?”

The last question was directed at Natalie.

“No, I—”

“I highly recommend these!” She threw a copy into Natalie’s basket, then turned to get another one and shoved it toward Marie. “Your boyfriends will thank me!”

The other woman—at least seventy, like Doris—nodded.

Books were not in Natalie’s budget when she was scraping pennies for a phone. She pulled it out of her basket.

“Doris, thanks for the recommendation, but I can’t afford this right now.”

“Oh, honey, are you coming upon hard times? Let me buy that for you.”

“No! No, I don’t need you to buy it for me, but I’m just trying to stay on a budget these days. I—”

“I understand! This economy is so hard on you young people. Are you looking for a job? I know of at least two openings.”

Natalie’s head snapped up. A
job
? That could give her the money she needed for the new phone without having to rely on Olivia. Maybe she could work extra hours while Lily was in school. And, coming from Doris, maybe this job was even at the center? She tried to ignore the little flutter in her chest.

“Is it at the center?” she asked, trying to hide the embarrassing lift in her voice.

“One of them is. But that job requires a yearlong commitment. Will you be staying here a year?”

Natalie felt as if she physically shrank an inch. A
yearlong
commitment? Who knew what she’d want to do in a year? In six months? In two months, even? And who could live on an island for a whole year? Well, besides Olivia and Jon, of course.

“What’s the other job?” she asked.

“The other is better paying,” Doris whispered behind her hand, as if it were a big secret there on aisle four. “It’s at the retirement apartments Casas del Sur, where Marie and I live.”

Marie’s coif bobbed in agreement. “Ooooh, she’d be perfect for that. Do you Zumba, dear?”

“I—I don’t think I’ve ever actually—”

“They’ll train you!” Doris interrupted. “They need a part-time activities assistant. But one of the activities is driving the volunteer golf cart to the Friends of the Sea Lion center, so it’s the best of both worlds.”

Natalie perked up at that. “I can drive a golf cart.”

“But the biggest part of the job is that they need someone to help us plan the big Senior Prom in three months. Like an event planner of sorts.”

“I’d be interested in that. My mom is an event planner, and I’ve learned a lot from her. You think they’d hire me without showing a portfolio?”

“I could get you hired.” Doris waved her hand.

Natalie frowned.

When Doris caught her puzzled expression, she shrugged. “I have some pull with the director. I taught him when he was a boy. If I recommend you, he’ll hire you.”

“Oh. Well, I would love that job. Right now, I’m watching my little niece every day, but she’s in school from eight until two, so I’m free then.”

“Perfect!” Doris scribbled a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Natalie. “Here’s his name and number. If you’re free right now, you should go down there and meet him. I’ll text him and tell him you’re coming.”

Doris whipped out an impressively new phone from her oversized leopard purse and texted with both thumbs like some kind of teenager. “Done!” She threw the phone back into the cavernous purse. “Now, let me buy you this book. Marie, I’ll buy you one, too.”

Doris whirled toward the counter and began marching forward with the two books tucked into the crook of her arm.

“Doris, really, that’s not necessary,” Natalie called.

“Nonsense! My treat. Now, you go do your shopping, and this book will be waiting for you up at the counter. Have a great day, dear.”

She and Marie left the aisle in a swirl of Shalimar and Jean Nate.

Natalie wandered up the sidewalk to the Casas del Sur, feeling as if she were heading into some kind of Hollywood movie gala. The luxury apartment building was high on a hill, at the very southeastern tip of Lavender Island, and boasted an incredible view of the ocean. A long red carpet led up a flagstone porte cochere, all ringed with palm trees. Inside was a three-story, metal-and-glass lobby.

Natalie approached the glass-fronted reception desk. “I’m looking for”—she glanced at the paper Doris had handed her—“Mr. Stegner,” she told the receptionist.

Once buzzed back, Natalie shook hands with Steve Stegner. He was middle-aged, rather plump, prematurely balding, with a host of gold-rimmed picture frames on his desk featuring a pretty wife and four blond, smiling, elementary-aged children.

“Doris said you’d be perfect for this role,” he said, sitting back at his desk. “She seems to think you’d be great for the rescue center tours. Or the marina. Or Zumba. Or any of our activities. We do a lot of picnics on the beach, tide-pool visits, that kind of thing. Do you have any experience?”

Having changed jobs at least three times a year for as long as she could remember, Natalie always knew the answer to this question.

“I’m a fast learner, and eager to expand my experience into new fields.”

Steve Stegner looked at her over the top of his glasses. Apparently, he could see a line of BS coming a mile away. “Well, Doris highly recommends you, so I’ll go with her gut. This is a part-time job, with mornings preferred. The seniors like doing their activities primarily before noon. What’s your availability?”

“I’m available from eight thirty, after I drop my niece off at school, until two, when she gets out.”

“Perfect.” He reached behind him and grabbed an application off his desk. “Fill this out, and we’ll get you started.”

By eight that night, Natalie had a second job, a month-to-month phone plan, a phone in her hand after an hour-long negotiation with the eyes-on-her-breasts kid back at the phone store, and a DVD for how to Zumba. She tucked her purchases back into her tote bag in the pleather-lined booth of the Shore Thing bar and lifted the laminated menu between her and Paige.

“You look like Donna Summer gone wrong,” Paige said.

“You look like Richard Simmons gone wrong,” Natalie said.

They both smiled through the dim lighting, casting giggling glances at each other over the tops of their menus. Paige wore a bright-yellow afro wig and Natalie’s was hot pink. The wigs were for 1970s Night, which Olivia had somehow talked Paige and Natalie into, right after she talked them into standing in for her and Jon on their dart league. Paige had capped her look off with blue-shaded John Lennon glasses sitting on the edge of her nose, and Natalie wore heart-shaped wire-rimmed ones with pink shades.

“Your ass looks amazing in those bell-bottoms, though,” Paige said. “You should walk around the bar more. Besides, Olivia wanted you to meet Tag.” Paige looked over her shoulder. “I hope he’s coming tonight.”

“I don’t want to be set up, Paige.”

“Not a setup. Just a meet.”

“No men. I’m just here to play darts. Let’s focus on the game.”

“I’m sorry, by the way, for teasing you about your mancation. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’ve just never known you to be without a guy. Maybe I’m just jealous.”

“Jealous?”
Natalie laughed. “You definitely don’t need to be jealous of me.”

“Well, we don’t need to do the bet.”

“No, I’m good for the bet.”

“It’s okay. It’s not right.”

“What’s not right?”

Paige suddenly seemed to find the menu unduly interesting.

A slow heat moved up Natalie’s face. “You’re thinking it’s not right that you take my three hundred and fifty dollars, aren’t you?”

“I know you don’t have much money right now.”

“I’m not going to lose!” Natalie sat back in the booth. Wow. Her sisters really had
no
faith in her.

“Of course. But we don’t have to—”

“Paige, stop! This is nonsense. I wouldn’t have made the bet if I didn’t think I would either win it or be good for it. The bet’s on. End of discussion.”

Paige shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Now let’s talk darts. Or you can help me with this phone. What is
this
thing?”

Paige took the phone out of Natalie’s hand to see what she was pointing at.

Although Paige could be critical of Natalie’s dating decisions, she never criticized her intelligence, which Natalie always appreciated. As smart as Paige was, she always made Natalie feel smart, too, and called her the “brains of the family.” They all seemed disappointed that she’d never extended her education like Paige and Olivia had. But Natalie had wanted to get on with her life—not spend another four long years learning about it.

“Here are your gimlets, extra lime,” the waitress said.

“Thanks, Cynthia,” Paige said. “Are Cody and Tom playing tonight?”

“No, I think they had business on the mainland they both had to attend to.”

“Cool.” Paige sipped her drink. “Olivia said they’re our toughest competition.” She grinned at Natalie over the rims of her blue-shaded glasses.