Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard Page 7

  “See.” Janice shrugged with an I-told-you-so look.

  He frowned. “But I can’t leave her home alone…or even with your mother. The point of bringing her out here was so we could spend time together.”

  “My theory is”—Janice lowered her voice and stepped away from the kitchen window—“leave her alone long enough and the next thing you know she’ll be begging for you to spend time with her.” She winked at him. “You know, reverse psychology. Isn’t that supposed to work on teens?”

  “She’s not a teen.”

  “Well, she’s acting like one. So maybe that’s how you should treat her.” Janice checked her watch. “Come on, Blake. My mother already started putting together a picnic basket for us.”

  Blake sighed. “Sorry, Janice, but I’m going to have to say no.”

  She made a pouty expression. “But it’s going to be a gorgeous day and—”

  “If Sicily doesn’t go, I don’t go,” he said, loudly enough that Sicily could easily hear him. “Sorry, Janice, but Sicily is my daughter, and I can’t keep leaving her behind all the time.”

  “Fine.” Janice nodded with a determined expression. “Then I’ll have to see if I can talk Sicily into coming too.”

  Just like that she turned and went into the house. Even though Blake knew Janice was simply trying to help, he felt aggravated by her boldness. It was starting to feel like Janice didn’t have many boundaries. As much as he liked the company of another adult—especially one who knew how to carry on an intelligent conversation—he was starting to resent Janice’s intrusion into his life. Even if Janice did manage to entice Sicily to come along today, Blake wasn’t certain he wanted to do this now. He was just thinking of a polite way to make this clear when Janice emerged from the house with a victorious grin.

  “Sicily decided she’d like to come,” she announced proudly.

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No. She’s getting her stuff ready as we speak.”

  Blake was flabbergasted. “So what did you do? Bribe her?”

  “Not exactly. But I did tell her about my mother and aunt’s new little business venture in town. Asked her if she’d been there yet.”

  “What was the business again?” He tried to remember what Vivian and Lou had told him about last week.

  “The video arcade,” Janice explained. “I promised her we’d stop by there on our way home from our picnic. And I promised her free tokens.”

  He let out a groan. “Why are you luring Sicily with something like that? Don’t you understand that she’s already addicted to video games as it is?”

  “I know that, but at least this gets her out of the house for a while.” Janice still looked quite pleased with herself. “That’s a step in the right direction, don’t you think?”

  He thought it was more like giving an alcoholic a gift certificate for a liquor store. Still, he didn’t know how to say no to her now. And Janice was right. It would get Sicily out of the house. So he decided to go along with this crazy plan. After all, it wasn’t like he’d been having any success at this parenting thing. Maybe Janice knew more about it than he did. Perhaps he really did need some help.

  Then, as they were gathering what they wanted to take to the beach, Blake pointed to the small black case that Sicily used to transport her video-game paraphernalia. “How about if you leave that thing at home today?” he suggested in a gentle tone.

  She scowled at him. “Why?”

  “Why not?” He smiled. “I mean, it’s a gorgeous day, sweetie. What if you want to go swimming, and it gets wet?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “It’s not like I’d take it into the water, Dad.”

  “Well, what if you get sand in there and ruin your games and everything?” That sounds like a good idea, he thought.

  “I won’t.” She tucked the video-game bag into her purple skull backpack, shoved a beach towel on top of it, then zipped it up and slung a strap over one shoulder.

  As usual, Janice insisted on taking her car. Although Blake didn’t really mind being a passenger again, he knew her pushiness would eventually get to him. Still, it was too late to do much about it today. Better to make the best of it. Figure it out later.

  “So I noticed you have an Oscar,” she said rather pointedly as soon as they were on the road.

  “Oh, yeah…that.” He glanced curiously at her. Had she actually gone into his bedroom?

  “I wasn’t snooping exactly,” she said. “Just looking around. But I’m surprised you don’t keep it on the mantel, Blake. That’s pretty cool. What’s it for anyway? I didn’t look closely, but I assume it’s not for acting.” She chuckled. “Not that you aren’t good-looking enough to be an actor.”

  Sicily made a snorting laugh from the backseat. It figured she was listening now. So much of the time she acted like she was ignoring him.

  “It’s for cinematography,” he explained, “from a little indie film that turned out to be bigger than we expected. I was very privileged to be in charge of that particular film crew.”

  Now Janice grew extremely interested in his career—asking him about the movies he’d been involved with over the years. But the more they talked, the more he realized that she was more interested in his celebrity connections than the actual work he’d done on films. When he told her about working on a Sandra Bullock flick a couple years ago, saying what a nice person Sandra was, he could literally see the stars in Janice’s eyes.

  “Do you think Sandy will ever come here?”

  “Here? To Martha’s Vineyard?”

  More backseat laughter.

  “Yes. A lot of celebs come here, you know.”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “But if she did come, and you heard about it, would you try to get together with her?”

  He frowned. “Get together with her?”

  “Yes. For drinks or laughs or whatever.”

  He laughed now. “Probably not. I’m fairly certain Sandra would appreciate me respecting her privacy. Do you know how hard it is for a star of her caliber to experience a normal life?”

  “That’s the price of celebrity.”

  “Maybe so. But in the film industry—if you want to keep working in it, that is—you learn early on how to maintain boundaries. Stars are no different from you or me, Janice. They need their space too.”

  He changed the subject to one that he knew would keep Janice occupied for a while—her political career, which sounded all-consuming. But he had to admire her enthusiasm, as well as her knowledge. And, unlike some politicians, Janice really did care about the issues.

  All in all, it was a nice day. With temps in the low eighties and a gentle sea breeze to cool it off, he couldn’t complain about the weather. And the food, as usual, was excellent. Louise really loved cooking and was thrilled to share her culinary skills whenever she got the chance. But from what Blake could tell, Janice didn’t share her mother’s passion for the kitchen. She’d said more than once that she’d chosen a career over domesticity. “I prefer hiring people who enjoy that sort of thing.” He couldn’t fault her for that since he was just learning to cook himself.

  Being at the beach almost seemed to remind Sicily that she was still a child. Although she refused to play Frisbee, saying that it was a stupid game, he did entice her to go for a dip into the ocean. And when he caught her smiling, he was beginning to think that maybe this was just the ticket. Maybe the beach would break the spell of the video-game dependency and bring this nine-year-old back to reality. But it wasn’t long before Sicily was dried off, sitting in the shade of her beach towel tented over her head, and hunkering down to play video games again.

  “You know,” he said as he peeked in under her beach towel, “I think if all you can do is play video games at the beach, you shouldn’t get to stop at the arcade afterward.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “But you promised, Dad.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t promise anything.”

  She p
ointed to Janice now. “Well, she promised.”

  Janice looked uncomfortable. “It’s true, Blake. I did promise.”

  “And I came to the beach with you,” Sicily pointed out.

  “But you’re playing video—”

  “You can’t start changing the rules now,” Sicily bitterly told him. “Just because you’re the grown-up, you can’t say one thing and do something else.”

  “She’s probably right,” Janice agreed.

  He held up his hands now. “Fine. Have it your way. Two to one. I give up.” Then he turned and ran back into the ocean’s edge, waded out, and then began swimming vigorously. He was tempted to swim far out, but then realized it might make them worry about him. So after a couple of minutes, he turned around and swam back. No need to act juvenile.

  Finally they packed it up and headed back toward Vineyard Haven, slowly working their way through the traffic.

  “I think we’d make better time on bicycles,” he pointed out as another pair of bikes moved past them.

  “You’ll have to find Sicily a bike,” Janice said as she inched forward.

  “I don’t want a bike,” Sicily said from the backseat. “Bikes are dumb.”

  Blake controlled himself from mentioning that video games were even dumber as Janice made her way into Vineyard Haven.

  “I’m going to run a couple of errands while you girls go to the video-game place,” he said as Janice finally managed to snag a parking place in town.

  “Does that mean I need to stay with Sicily?” Janice asked.

  “It was your idea to go play video games,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then it’s only fair that you go with her.” He flashed a sly grin at her. “But I’m sure you girls will have a great time. I’ve got a book to pick up at Bunch of Grapes and something from the hardware store.”

  “Meet you back here in an hour?” Janice asked hopefully.

  “Sounds good.” He couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug about how he’d gotten out of that. But, really, it was Janice’s fault that they were here. Then, as he crossed the street, he wondered if he could really trust her to keep a watchful eye on Sicily. After all, she wasn’t a mother. But she was an attorney. Surely she knew she would be held responsible if any harm came to his daughter.

  Even so, he hurried to pick up his book, then decided to skip the hardware store altogether. He wasn’t exactly paranoid when it came to his daughter, but town was so busy and, despite hearing that the island’s crime rate was extremely low, he was a bit skeptical. As it turned out, it was probably a good thing because, upon entering the noisy arcade, he noticed that Janice was distracted in a conversation with another woman. Meanwhile, Sicily, completely unsupervised, was getting into an argument with an older boy over whose turn it was to play a particular video game.

  “Is there a problem here?” Blake asked as the dark-haired boy looked like he was about to take a punch at his daughter.

  “Who are you?” the boy demanded.

  “I’m her father,” Blake said in a tone meant to intimidate.

  “Oh?” The boy stepped back.

  “It was my turn,” Sicily explained. “I was waiting. The other kid finished his game, and then this bully came up and pushed—”

  “Fine,” the boy snapped. “Take your stupid turn, tattletale baby.”

  Sicily looked hurt by his words.

  “Don’t pay attention to him,” Blake said soothingly. “Guys like that don’t deserve the time of day.” He patted her head. “Especially from a pretty girl like you.”

  “Oh, Dad.” She sounded exasperated, but he thought he saw a tiny twinkle of appreciation in her eyes. As pitiful as it was, like a starving man who was thankful for a breadcrumb, Blake felt relieved.

  “Oh, there you are,” Janice said as she joined them. “So what do you think of my mother and aunt’s new business?”

  Blake wanted to ask why any adult, in her right mind, would choose to purchase a place like this. But he didn’t want to insult Janice or her family, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead of complaining about video games in general, he attempted to show some interest in his daughter’s abilities to master this game. As he watched, he realized that it was slightly interesting. Although he’d been just old enough to avoid the video-game craze as a kid, he had to admit that graphics and special effects had come a long ways since the original Pong game he used to play at his neighbor’s house in middle school.

  All things considered, it was a fairly good day. But when Janice started talking about what they would do tomorrow, Blake knew he needed to make himself clear. “I have other plans,” he said as he and Sicily got out of her car. “But maybe by the end of the week, I’ll be available.”

  “Oh…right.” She nodded, but he could tell by the look in her eye that she saw right through him and his phony-sounding excuse.

  “Thanks for the picnic,” he said as he reached for the basket.

  “I can get that,” she assured him as she got to it first.

  “Well, thanks for everything,” he said as he stepped back.

  Sicily was already halfway home now, and he wished he was with her.

  “Thanks for coming,” Janice said crisply. “See you around.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, nodded. “See you.”

  Then, as he walked toward home, he felt uncomfortable. Not just from guilt either. Suddenly he wondered if he’d made a mistake to cut Janice off like that. Not that he’d meant to completely cut her off exactly…or maybe he did. But she did tend to overwhelm him a bit. Perhaps he needed to give her a hint that Blake Erickson was not a pushover. Maybe if she got this, and respected it, they could work it from there. If not…well, Blake didn’t know that he cared that much one way or the other.

  Chapter Eight

  Waverly had never been one to give up easily. Oh, sometimes she fought her battles quietly, privately, but she did fight back. After recovering from her initial shock—and after a good, hard cry—she had emerged out onto the back deck and taken in a deep breath of fresh sea air, as well as a good long look at the amazing seascape scene before her, which was no longer a blurry shade of blue. Just like that, she realized that she wasn’t going to surrender to self-pity. She wasn’t going to tuck her tail and run. Even if it was totally crazy to stick around, she was determined to give this strange business venture her best effort.

  “I want to apologize,” she had told her mother on the phone, “if I sounded less than enthusiastic about helping with your business. It’s just that I was caught off guard and—”

  “I’m so sorry that you thought we were opening an art gallery,” her mother had said back. “I never intended to mislead you, Waverly. After I got home, I could clearly see your point of view. You must’ve felt tricked.”

  “But I know it wasn’t intentional,” Waverly assured her. “And, like you said, I can almost see the humor in it now.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear that. To be perfectly honest, I questioned Lou’s sensibility when she insisted that The Gallery was a good investment. Really, what do a couple of old women know about such things? I’m aware the business needs some work. We’ll be lost when Rosie leaves. She’s been managing everything for us.”

  “So I should probably schedule some time with Rosie.” Waverly made a mental note to speak to the young woman tomorrow.

  “Yes. It was her family who owned the arcade,” Vivian explained. “Rosie’s been working there since she was a teenager. But she’ll be gone soon.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Waverly promised. “For starters, I’m scrubbing down this apartment.”

  “Do you want me to come help?” Vivian offered.

  Waverly remembered her mother’s dislike of housekeeping of any kind. “No, I can handle it.”

  “Lou left some cleaning stuff there.”

  “Yes, I’ve already begun putting it to use.” Waverly looked at the pile of dirt she’d already swept.

  “I’m s
o relieved you’re going to stay, darling. Most of all, I want to spend time with you. It’s been too long.”

  “Well, I expect I’ll stick around for the duration of the summer.” Waverly had no idea what she’d do beyond that. Even as she made this decision, she reassured herself that she was not making a lifetime commitment. She would simply do whatever she could to help organize the place, attempt to make it the successful enterprise that her mother and aunt needed to stay afloat. After that, she would surely move on.

  With this in mind, she continued to clean the studio apartment. Her plan was to simply carve out a space for herself up here—a place to sleep and hang her clothes—even if it was only a temporary one. With the floor swept clean, she went for the mop and bucket and started scrubbing the wood floors. To her surprise, the harder she scrubbed, the more the planks of wood began to come to life. She was so inspired by their natural wood beauty that she even started in on the windows that overlooked the water. But after a while, she realized it was getting dark. Washing windows at night was probably a waste of time and energy.

  She’d noticed that the noisy arcade had gotten quiet somewhere around eight o’clock, which she suspected meant it had closed for the night. As she continued putting her space together, she located a plastic bag of bedding in one of her aunt’s boxes. She put the grandma-style floral sheets and rose-colored blanket on the sofa bed, then slid the whole contraption closer to the windows, where she planned to enjoy the view. To make herself even more at home, she scooted a rickety side table next to the sofa bed and set a cracked porcelain lamp on it. Frumpy looking perhaps, but an improvement nonetheless. It would have to do until her own things arrived at the end of the week.

  Satisfied that, at least, she had a semi-decent place to sleep tonight, she decided to slip downstairs to survey the state of the video arcade. She’d been too shocked at first glance to even remember what the space really looked like—although the sounds of electronic noises were still buzzing and ringing inside her head. She wondered if there was a way to turn the volume down on the machines.