My grandfather stopped and stared at the bay. The moon’s reflection swam on the water. “Jake was a better person when your mother was around. But he couldn’t stop the drugs. He grew marijuana right here on my land. Every summer I’d take out the gas torch and destroy any I found. I was a cop, for heaven’s sake. What was he thinking?”

He turned and trekked back toward the house. I stayed beside him, careful of my footing in the near-darkness.

He finally spoke. “Then news got around that she was pregnant. I told him to marry her, but Jake had been in trouble with his ring boss. Got the headlights on his new truck smashed out. They’d even threatened Beth. She’d had enough. She was going to run on account of the baby. But I convinced her to stay. Bribed is more like it. But I didn’t care. You came along and soon Candice was in my life. It was heaven on earth. But Jake couldn’t keep clean. I cut a deal with his associates, my own brother one of them, to get Jake out of the loop. It cost me my job when the captain found out.”

We walked silent before he started up again.

“Jake was out of the ring, but the higher-ups didn’t like him running loose. If he ever decided to talk, more than one neck would hang. Next thing you know—”

“Tish. Hello? Are you going to stand there daydreaming or are you going to get in on our jam session?” Samantha’s voice pierced the cloud around my brain.

“Jam session? I’m not hungry.”

Sam laughed like I’d just told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “You crack me up. Come on. We’re meeting at the altar.”

She dragged me down the aisle like a reluctant bride.

I looked around at the group huddled on the riser. A couple of guitars, a stand-up bass, a piano player, some fiddles . . . I looked down at my hands. And a pair of maracas.

I shook my rattles to the beat, hoping if I put on a good enough show they’d let me go home.

They were singing some song I’d never heard of. In my mind, I snuck back down to the beach with my grandfather.

We cut across the lawn toward the house. A few windows glowed with lights. What had Puppa been saying? Oh, yeah.

“Jake was out of the ring,” Puppa explained, “but the higher-ups didn’t like him running loose. If he ever decided to talk, more than one neck would hang. Next thing you know, my brother Sid and Candice’s husband Paul are stinking up the sky in that big fire. They’d been the ones covering for Jake all those years. When she heard about their deaths, Beth panicked that the goon squad would be after Jake next. He’d been keeping a low profile. But they’d been keeping an eye on Beth, figuring sooner or later, she’d lead them to Jacob. I was the one stupid enough to tell her where he was.”

“Gosh, that was fun.” Samantha’s voice broke into the dead-of-night drama playing out in my head.

The maracas left my hands and I stumbled clueless after Sam. We got back in the VW and were at the cider mill before I even realized we’d left the church.

“Yeah. That was a good time,” I said.

“Tish, are you okay? I said how fun it was back at the church, and I feel like you’re just now responding.”

I looked at her. Her brow was scrunched with concern.

“Wow. I’m sorry. My brain is definitely somewhere else.”

“I can tell. You’ve been a zombie all morning. Anything you want to talk about?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I’ve just got a lot of thinking to do.”

“The offer’s always open,” she said.

Back at the lodge, Joel had fixed lunch. We took turkey sandwiches and lemonade out to the lakeshore. When we finished eating, Hannah splashed around in the cool water of Valentine’s Bay. Next to her, Melissa dipped Andrew’s toes under the surface, earning screams of laughter.

Watching them, my smile broadened. The frolicking children and happy adults were just what I had in mind when I bought this place.

I only wished I didn’t have to sell it, even more so after Olivia’s guilt trip about the property belonging to her father, my great-great-grandpa, and a Belmont, no less.

There would only be a drop of money left over after I fixed this place up, especially after the new heating system consumed its share. But if I got a job at the Grille with Samantha, I should be able to cover the taxes, mortgage, and bills. I’d have to shop at Goodwill for the rest of my life, but who cared? I’d be close to what was left of my family. And besides, Sam seemed to love her job. I was sure I would too.

As I made my plans, a nervous spasm shot across my chest. But inside my heart, I felt at peace.

28

Wednesday morning around ten, I headed down to Port Silvan. I figured I might as well get my job thing going. I could always keep working on renovations in my free time. I parked in front of the Silvan Bay Grille. Log siding disguised the building’s 1960’s cement block origins. A covered porch, like a Cracker Barrel wannabe, framed the entry. I walked in, nervous. I hadn’t held a job since the Foodliner in Walled Lake, unless I counted three years of forced labor in prison.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. A bar stretched the length of one wall. Opposite me, a bank of windows overlooked Silvan Bay, glistening white in the morning sun. Tables for four scattered the center of the room with booths tucked under the windows. Several patrons occupied the dining room. From the swinging doors on my left came clanging dishes and voices. I stood at the entry, unsure of my course. The Nancy person I should talk to was probably in the kitchen. My hands sweated. I turned toward the double doors and paused, rehearsing my lines. Just as I was about to push them open, Samantha came bustling through, a tray of food balanced gracefully on one hand.

“Tish!” she gushed. “How cool to see you! Give me a minute and I’ll get you a seat by the window.”

I waited, slightly annoyed, for Sam to come back my way. I shouldn’t have to explain my reason for being here. It was none of Sam’s business.

A moment later, a woman in a green Silvan Bay Grille apron stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a white cloth.

“Hi. Is someone helping you?” she asked.

“Well, Samantha—”

“Oh, Sam will take good care of you. She’s the best waitress I’ve had in years.” The woman pivoted and stepped behind the bar where she disappeared from sight, the tinkling of glassware the only indication of her locale.

“Uh, are you Nancy?” I stretched my body across the top of the bar to see the woman’s crouched form.

“That’s me.” She looked up and smiled, then kept on with her task.

“I’m Patricia Amble and—”

Her head shot up in my direction. “So you’re Patricia, huh? Olivia told me all about you.” From the tone of her voice, she didn’t sound impressed. Now standing, she plopped her cloth on the bar and rooted her hands on her hips.

I stammered for a minute, thrown off by the attitude. “I’m new to the area and I’m looking for work. Do you have anything here at the Grille?”

Her taut lips arced in a frown. “Olivia said you’re not much for working.”

I shook my head, dumbfounded. “That’s a misunderstanding. I’m a very hard worker.”

She stared at me, as if debating. “This summer I’ll need an extra hand. If you want, you can train with Samantha. Then come June I might be able to put you on the schedule.”

Sam approached from the dining room. “Sorry that took so long. I’ve got a spot all cleared for you.” She smiled and squeezed my arm.

Nancy picked up her cloth. “Looks like Patricia is going to help us out here at the Grille, Sam. Why don’t you show her the ropes so she’ll have her head on straight when the summer crowds pull in?”

I gave Samantha a big smile, expecting to see one in return. Instead I got crossed arms and pursed lips. Nancy took off into the kitchen. Sam grabbed my arm and led me to the booth by the window. The surface was still wet from her dishcloth.

“What’s going on?” Her voice was low and raspy as she slid opposite me into the booth. “I thought you were too busy with renovations to take a job?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking and I’d like to stay in the area. My family’s here and the lodge is part of my legacy. I decided I don’t want to sell it. I’m going to take a job and fix up the house as I go. Like normal people.”

She tapped her fingers on the Formica tabletop. “Tish, I understand where you’re coming from, but what about, you know, the rest of the people in your life?”

My lip rose in confusion. “Like who?”

She leaned close. “Like my brother. Remember him?” Her cheeks took on a heated color.

I looked at her like she was out of her mind. “Brad? He’s not exactly in my life.”

She set her jaw. “You took care of that, didn’t you? I thought there was more to you, Tish. But the longer I’m here, the more I realize you’re just a shallow, selfish human being who broke a guy’s heart and never gave it another thought.”

I sat dazed at her words. “Brad and me. We were just friends. Right?”

“He is so in love with you, and all he is to you is a passing friendship?”

The men at the center table turned in our direction. I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “Brad can’t be in love with me. You know, not love love. He’s got his life together and my life is such a”—I threw my hands up searching for the right term—“disaster. Guys like Brad don’t settle for girls like me. They go for the ones that have things like self-esteem, confidence, a good upbringing, a real career. You know, normal.”

“All I know is”—she smashed a finger on the table for emphasis—“Brad hasn’t been the same since you up and left him without so much as a goodbye.”

“That’s not true. I said goodbye.”

“Brad is not the kind of guy who gives his heart to just anybody. He’s kept it on reserve for the right woman, the perfect one for him. That was you, Tish. He gave you his heart and you flattened it the day you drove off in that gas guzzler of yours.”

I crossed my arms in self-defense. “Hey, he’s got a gas guzzler too.”

“I’m not saying he’s perfect. Just that you were perfect for him. And if you’re going to stay up here in that log tower of yours, how are you two ever going to get together? His life is in Rawlings. Can’t you just fix up your lodge, sell it, and go back downstate?” She bobbled her head, her big eyes glued to mine.

I wasn’t about to succumb to faulty logic. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a life too. And it’s here in Port Silvan. If Brad wanted to be with me so bad, he’d find a job up north. Why should I be the one to compromise?”

She tapped her fingernails like she had all the answers. “Maybe because he’s the one with the steady income?”

“Come June, I’ll have a steady income of my own.”

“Not enough to support both of you.”

I humphed. “Who’s supporting who? I’ve worked my entire life. I don’t expect to kick back and sponge off a man. And I wouldn’t appreciate it if a man tried sponging off me.”

“I’m just saying, look down the road. If there are kids, Brad can afford to support a family. I don’t think you’re in the same position.”

I leaned back against the vinyl cushion, overwhelmed with Sam’s fortune-telling abilities. “You’re skipping pretty far ahead. Last time we talked, Brad and I couldn’t even figure out who should jump in the car for a visit. Besides, Brad only thinks I’m perfect for him. But just wait ’til he really meets Miss Right. He’ll be relieved we never officially got together.”

Sam crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you. You’re so—”

“Excuse me, miss. Can I get a warm-up on the coffee, please?” one of the men at the center table asked in a booming lumberjack voice.

Sam jumped to her feet. “Absolutely. Of course. I’ll be right back.” She crossed to the kitchen and out of sight.

“So, you’re that Amble girl, eh?” the big guy asked.

I sized him up. His orangish hair was flecked with gray. The tatty black and red flannel shirt he wore seemed overkill for the warm spring day. The dab of ketchup and flake of toast stuck in his mustache cemented the fact that whatever opinion he was about to spout could hold no water with me.

I nodded in answer to his question, then looked out the window. I could see my grandfather’s house along the shore, tiny in the distance.

“Thought so,” the man said. “You look like your ma. Don’t she look like her ma?”

“Yep,” his lunch date said.

I looked. The other man was nearly as burly as his buddy and equally unkempt.