Morning Glory(90)

“She does?” I feel like Jell-O. This isn’t the conversation I anticipated having, and yet it’s the greatest, most unexpected gift.

“Yes,” she says. “And so do I. Alex told me about you, about what you’ve been through. Well, what I want you to know is that I welcome you into this crazy, dysfunctional family of ours. You make Alex happy, and that makes him a better daddy. A win-win.”

I grin. “I can’t believe I read the situation so wrong.”

Kellie smiles. “It’s OK. All that matters now is that you stay and give it a chance. Think you can do that?”

I nod.

“By the way,” she continues, “those cookies you made for Gracie were really good. Do you have the recipe to share?”

“No,” I say, “but I can get it for you.”

“Please,” she says. “I’m working on a cookie book in the fall, and I’d love to include it.”

“I have to admit,” I say, thinking of Penny, “the recipe isn’t mine. It’s from a woman who lived in this houseboat a long time ago.”

“Oooh, history,” she says. “Even better. Stories always enrich a recipe.” She looks at her watch. “I have to go,” she says, standing up. “My editor will be at Wild Ginger in a half hour.” She leans over and rubs the back of her right shoe. “Serves me right to have to walk three blocks downtown when I wear a new pair out. You don’t happen to have a Band-Aid handy?”

“Blister?”

“Yeah,” she says.

I run to the bathroom and return, handing her the bandage.

“Thanks,” she says.

“It took a lot of courage to come over to talk to me,” I say. “I don’t know that I could have done that.”

Kellie shakes her head knowingly. “Yes, you could have. You’re a mother to a little girl,” she says, pointing up to heaven. She lowers her voice. “Alex told me.”

I nod.

“We do anything for our children’s happiness; you know that.”

I blink back a tear. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” she says, smiling. “Go get your guy.”





Chapter 34





Jim returns from the police station at three in the afternoon, alone.

I’m sitting at the edge of the dock, where I’ve been since Kellie left, and I turn around when I hear the creak of his footsteps on the dock behind me. Boat Street is changing; I can feel it.

He slips his hat off and holds it to his chest. “Hi,” he says.

I stand, and my eyes sting with tears. “Where’s Gene, is he—?”

“They’re keeping him for questioning.”

“Jim, I’m so sorry,” I say. “Please, believe me, it wasn’t my intention to—”

He holds up his hand. “No,” he says, looking out to the lake through misty red eyes. “No, this needed to happen. You should have seen him at the station.” He turns back to me. “It’s like a burden was lifted off his shoulders.”

I think of what that might feel like—his secret, like a lead vest worn every day, peeled away—and I’m relieved for him, even if it means spending the rest of his life, however short it may be, behind bars.

“And will they make a case against him?” I ask. Penny deserves justice, but I can’t help but worry about Gene’s age, his health.

“The officer told me they’d look out for him,” Jim says, rubbing his brow. “They’d treat him kindly.”

We don’t say anything for the next few minutes, and I try to imagine what Jim must be thinking about this place he’s called home for so many years.

“What’s next,” I say, “for Boat Street? For you?”

He kicks a pebble into the lake and it makes a tiny splash. I think of Penny out there still. I think of Jimmy’s hazy childhood memories, his pain.

“I thought I’d take a trip,” he says, “on the Catalina. For Penny.”

“She’d like that,” I say, smiling. “Where will you go?”

Jim takes a deep breath. “Well, first Catalina Island, and then, well, I don’t know. Wherever the wind takes me, I guess.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Truth is,” he continues, “I probably should have made this voyage years ago. Guess I was worried about Mom and Dad, worried about . . .”

“Go,” I say. “If Gene should need anything, well, I’ll give the officers my contact information. And Alex and I will look after Naomi.”

Alex and I. I like the sound of it.

Jim thanks me and walks up the dock to his houseboat. When he’s gone, I study the planks beneath my feet, remembering how I felt when I first arrived, how I fell to my feet and wept until I hadn’t a single tear left. I think of my journey, and Penny’s, and this dock we both have called home. Home.