After dinner, Warren insisted on walking her home. Blythe couldn’t refuse without being exceptionally rude, but the truth was she was terrified that they’d run into someone. She practically held her breath passing Bart and Thomas’s house, and by the time they reached Amelia’s front porch, she knew she was acting like a skittish house cat.
“Everything okay?” Warren asked.
“Yes—of course. It’s just that I didn’t tell my daughter I was going out tonight and…I know it’s silly.”
“No, not at all. I might feel the same way if my boys were here.”
“I had a lovely evening. Thank you so much. A night out like this—it was the last thing I expected.”
He smiled warmly and she smiled back, trying not to worry about whether or not he was going to kiss her. When he did lean toward her, it was clear he was only going in for the cheek.
“I had a great time with you, Blythe. I think at this stage of life, it serves us well to be open to the unexpected.”
Rachel took Luke’s outstretched hand and walked from rock to rock. They made their way slowly across the length of the jetty.
“This is far enough,” she said when they were about a quarter mile from land. She was feeling the wine and assumed Luke was in a similar state. It was dark, the water choppy. She was nervous.
“A little farther? We should make it to the end at least once this summer.”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. There had been a time when she would have followed Luke anywhere. Not now.
He didn’t push.
“So,” he said. “That’s your mom.”
“Yep.”
“Interesting woman.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Rachel said.
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
“You know, the crazy thing is I didn’t realize how angry I was until she showed up here. I see Marin and her mother, their closeness, and I’m jealous. I feel how nurturing Amelia is, and I realize how much I’ve been missing that all my life. I really don’t know why my mother even had me.”
“Well, the important thing is that she did have you. And considering the circumstances, it wasn’t an accident. She really wanted a kid. And she loves you even though maybe she’s not what you would have picked for a mother. But we don’t get to pick. Look, I love my dad. But there were times when I was really angry. He abandoned us. Eventually, I realized he did the best he could. It’s the same with your mom. And hey, she came out here to see you. She didn’t have to do that, right?”
Rachel nodded. He had a point. “Thanks for stepping in before that got even uglier tonight.”
“No problem.”
She sighed. “You know, I’m glad I said those things. I said it, I got it out.”
“Do you feel better?”
“I do.”
“The thing with parents is it’s a relationship, just like any other we have. It takes work. But it’s worth having. You don’t want to write her off.”
“No. I don’t. I think I was starting to, on some level. And then she showed up here and I felt like she was intruding. It was easier to push her aside than to admit how angry I’ve been.” She turned around. Dry land seemed very far away. “We should get back.”
He touched her arm, and she thought he was helping her keep her footing as she pivoted on the rocks. But when she looked up at him, he looped his arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.
What was happening? Her first instinct was to respond, her mouth opening to his. But then her mind kicked in and was like, Danger…danger! She’d finally accepted that he would never think of her that way and there he was…thinking of her that way. She pulled back and said—with a Marilyn Monroe breathlessness that sounded contrived but wasn’t—“I’m too young for you, remember?”
“Yeah. About that: I’ve been an idiot,” he said. And he kissed her again.
Chapter Forty-One
Marin woke up to pouring rain. She felt almost as depressed as she had the first morning at the house. She stared at the Portuguese good-luck rooster on her nightstand for a long while before forcing herself out of bed.
The Miller family showed up in the kitchen just a little after eight for their last breakfast at the inn, and Marin made coffee since Rachel was MIA. She pulled corn bread, hard-boiled eggs, raspberries, and orange juice out of the fridge and set it out on the round kitchen table, whose white paint was chipped just enough to be charming.
While Mr. Miller loaded up the car, and the kids looked around for outlets to give their devices a last-minute charge, Mrs. Miller told Marin how sorry she was that she’d barely gotten to see Amelia and Kelly.
“Please tell them we look forward to seeing them next summer. I’ll be e-mailing as soon as I get home to make my reservation.”
Molly jumped up, tail wagging with a thump against the table at the sound of someone coming down the back stairs. “Maybe that’s Amelia and you can tell her yourself,” she said.
But it wasn’t Amelia. It was Nadine, dressed in a black sundress and carrying a laptop. Molly barked and Nadine shushed her.
“You’re back,” Marin said.
“I am. And…who are you? Another long-lost relative?” she said to Mrs. Miller.
“What? No…we’re guests. We stay here every August.”
“I thought the inn was closed this summer,” Nadine said to Marin. Mrs. Miller looked at her in confusion.
“No. Obviously not,” Marin said quickly. “We’re up and running.”
“Closed? Don’t even say such a thing!” Mrs. Miller said with a small laugh. “I was just telling Marin, I’m already reserving our rooms for next summer.”
“Well, that might be a bit premature,” Nadine said.
Mr. Miller appeared in the doorway and announced that the car was packed and the kids were just doing one last bathroom run.
“I’ll see you out,” Marin said, glancing over her shoulder and shooting Nadine a look that she hoped read, loud and clear, Just keep your mouth shut.
After a quick good-bye on the porch, waving as the Millers drove away, she hurried back to the kitchen. Nadine was busy eating the last of the orange muffins.
“What was that about?” Marin said. Nadine poured herself coffee and shrugged.
“You tell me. My mother said she closed this place to guests this summer.”
“It’s a long story. You didn’t have to be so rude.”
“That wasn’t rude. That was honesty. This place won’t be taking guests next summer so that woman might as well hear it here first.”
“How do you know what Amelia will or won’t be doing next summer?”
Nadine glared at her. “You should just go back to New York. Pack it up like those other guests. I don’t know how long you think you can sponge off my mother, but I’ll tell you one thing, it’s going to be coming to an end fast. She’s selling this house.”