She tied up the boat, hung up the keys, and nodded. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. And if she could do that, she could do anything. Maybe even have a relationship without self-destructing it.
Chapter 18
“Always get the facts first.
You can distort them later.”
PHOEBE TRAEGER
Today would have been Mom’s birthday.”
Both Tara and Maddie stopped eating when Chloe said this casually over blueberry pancakes. “It’s true. She’d have been fifty-five today. She was looking forward to this one because it meant she could get a senior discount in some places. She always wanted to be able to get that damn discount.”
Tara looked at Maddie. “Did you know?”
Maddie shook her head. She hadn’t been able to think of anything but how Jax had looked walking away from her. “Whenever I asked her how old she was, she said she was ageless. She celebrated Jerry Garcia’s birthday as her own.”
Tara let out a reluctant smile. “That’s what she always told me, too.”
“Grandma showed me Mom’s birth certificate,” Chloe said. “That’s how I know.”
Maddie dropped her jaw. “You have her birth certificate? Where was she born?”
“Here.” Chloe smiled. “Well, in Seattle, which is close enough, right? She grew up in Lucky Harbor, from what I heard.”
Thinking about Phoebe going to school here and having a home made Maddie wistful. She was working hard on not resenting how little she’d known about her mother, or how her father hadn’t encouraged her to breach that emotional and physical distance. Instead she was trying to concentrate on the here and now that Phoebe had given her.
She’d told her sisters about yesterday’s bank rejection. Surprisingly enough, they’d been disappointed. Or at least they’d been kind enough to pretend. They’d agreed to find another lending institution, though Maddie was fairly certain neither Tara nor Chloe expected that to happen. In the meantime, they were going to stick out the month, finish up the bare-essential renovations, and then put the place on the market. Maddie hoped to open the inn and run it until it sold. Hell, who knew, maybe it’d do so well they would miraculously turn it around.
Worst-case scenario, she’d go back to LA and try to get a job through her dad’s connections, but she hoped it didn’t come to that. She was doing her damnedest not to think about it, not yet anyway. A picture of Jax flashed in her mind-the other thing she was trying not to think about-and her heart pinged, but she hoisted her glass of orange juice into the air. “To you, Mom.”
Tara and Chloe looked at her like she was nuts, but she gestured to their glasses, and they obediently picked them up. “I’d love to celebrate who you were,” Maddie said to the ceiling. “But I didn’t know you well enough. So instead, I think I’ll celebrate who we are because of you.”
“I like that,” Tara said. “Here’s to letting go of regrets and even resentments. Here’s to what might have been, and to what we will be.”
“Happy birthday, Mom,” Chloe said quietly, for once her eyes devoid of the mocking sarcasm.
“Happy birthday,” Tara and Maddie echoed.
“Oh, and happy birthday to Jerry, too,” Chloe added, and they all laughed. It was a rare moment of peace and solidarity as they clicked their glasses together.
Chloe knocked her orange juice back and set the glass on the table. “So, Tara, Maddie wants to tell you something-you snore.”
“Excuse me?” Tara’s eyes narrowed. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do. Like a buzz saw. Or a grizzly bear with sleep apnea. Tell her, Maddie.”
Maddie winced. “Okay, well-”
“You did not just compare my breathing to a grizzly bear,” Tara said to Chloe.
“And/or a buzz saw.”
Maddie sighed and reached for her knitting. Solidarity was officially over.
At dawn, Jax gave up on the pretense of sleep and got out of bed. It was ironic that he’d come back to Lucky Harbor to lead the lazy, kick-back life he’d always wanted, and yet it wasn’t in him to be lazy.
Unlike Izzy, who was sleeping like… well, a dog. “Time to get up.”
Izzy squeezed her eyes tight.
“We’re going for a run.”
Jax could have sworn that she shook her head. With a sigh, he got up and ran alone. When he got back, Izzy was waiting for him on the porch. “Did you cook breakfast?” he asked her.
She looked at him balefully, like Dude, no opposable thumbs, or I totally would have.
Jax showered and dressed, then headed into his office, where Jeanne handed him coffee and left him to himself. Three hours later, she reappeared.
“I’m all caught up. I’m going shopping for some lingerie.”
Jax winced. “And I want to know this why?”
“Because maybe you’d like me to pick up a present for somebody.”
“Like who?”
“Like the cute curly-haired Traeger sister. The one you’re in a fight with.”
“What?” He shook his head and stared at her. “How could you possibly know that?”
She smiled. “I didn’t, but you’re all broody and mopey-looking. What did ya do? Don’t tell me, it was something stupidly male, right? Should I get black and lacy, or white and sheer?”
Jesus. “You should mind your own damn business.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” She came close, gave him a sympathetic look, and kissed his cheek. “You could solve it the way Steve solves all of our fights.”
He sighed. “How does he do that?”
“Easy. Just admit you were wrong. His always being wrong really works for us.” She gently patted his arm and left him alone.
But it didn’t feel wrong to want Maddie to see him as more than an escape. It felt… weak and vulnerable, which he really hated.
But not wrong.
Stop thinking, you idiot. He moved through the office and out the back door. The morning was frosty, the cold biting into his skin, reminding him that winter had arrived. Instead of going into his wood shop, he loaded himself and Izzy into his Jeep and went for a drive.
And found himself at the inn.
It looked deserted. He let himself in, noting that it was colder inside than outside. The heater hadn’t been turned on today. He walked the ground floor, the sanded but not-yet-finished floors creaking beneath his boots as he took in the walls that still had to be painted, and the bathrooms waiting for their new vanities. He felt a surge of frustration.
It didn’t have to be like this.
When something thudded above him, he took the stairs two at a time but found the second floor empty. He hit pay dirt in the attic. The room ran the entire length of the inn. At the moment, it held most of the furniture from the other floors that had been moved to finish the floors. There were tarps everywhere and also stacks of boxes filled with God knew what, dating back to Maddie’s grandparents’ era.
It was the approximate temperature of the Arctic Circle up here, thanks to the icy air and the equally icy glance Maddie sent his way. She was sitting on the floor, holding her Blackberry as she went through the box in front of her.
“Hey,” he said, risking frostbite by moving farther into the room.
She didn’t answer.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what pieces of furniture are worth selling to cover this month’s bills.”
Ah, hell. “Maddie-”
“This is a no-talking zone.”
When he didn’t leave, she sighed, her expelled air coming out in a puffy mist, testament to just how cold it was. “Fine.” She jerked her head toward an unidentifiable pile in the far corner. “Can you peek under that tarp and tell me if you see an antique walnut hall bench? I know we had one. Someone’s selling a match to it on eBay for three hundred fifty dollars. If I could get half that, I’d be happy.”