The Pirate's Legacy Read online

  “Hi, Penny.” Chloe lifted her bottle in salute.

  “Hi. You going to see the Muppets, too?”

  “I am. And it looks like we’ll pretty much have the whole theatre to ourselves. I think everyone must be at the beach because they’re not in here with us, are they?”

  Penny appeared to be a happy child, despite what had happened to her. She was clean and well-groomed, and did not look like she’d recently suffered a traumatic experience.

  “We should sit together, right?” Debra did not try to hide her eagerness. “Right?”

  “Right.” Chloe asked Penny, “Do you have a favorite side in a movie theatre? A place you like to sit?”

  “In the middle.” She skipped to the door leading into the auditorium. “Right in the middle—and never, ever behind a lady with big hair.”

  They followed the little one down the aisle. They let her choose their seats.

  In an undertone, Debra asked, “She’s sweet. A great kid, right?”

  “Yes, of course. She’s wonderful.”

  “So, you’ve given it some thought? You’re going to do this, right?”

  Penny had chosen a row near the front, where no one could block their view. She went to the seats directly in the center of the row. Looking back over a shoulder, she waited for them to join her. She was drinking the soda so quickly she was sure to need to go to the restroom before the previews were over.

  Chloe looked at the child. Her child. It was a gift she never thought to have, this connection with Penny. It was a huge complication in an already-complicated life but there was no way around that.

  She met Debra’s gaze. “I am.”

  Chapter 33

  It was early afternoon when the movie ended. She had made a strategy of sorts with Debra, all spoken in undertones during slow parts of the film. Chloe needed a day or so to make plans and rearrange her life a bit. The focus was on Penny’s well-being, so rushing headfirst into something without thinking it through was not an option.

  Debra did not mind keeping her for a while longer. She loved the child but admitted she was not the one to care for her properly. Besides, she wanted to respect her sister’s wishes, and return Penny to her natural mother.

  She nearly invited them to go to Quinn Beach with her, but it was clear by the whiny tone in the child’s voice that it was naptime. Debra promised to call later on, after putting the girl to bed. It was a hard goodbye, but maybe it was good that she had some time to herself.

  A child was a tricky situation, even when planned. An unplanned six-year-old was a major complication—and was entering into an already-tangled state of affairs.

  Well, it will just have to work out, she decided as she walked down Main Street. She’d changed into her bathing suit in the cinema restroom and planned to sit on her towel on the beach, all alone with her thoughts. Maybe the sun would shine ideas down on her. If not? She’d get a killer tan.

  Locals tended to be amused by vacationers who lugged so much to the beach they looked ready to go on safari rather than beachcombing. Mothers, canvas totes slung over each shoulder, leading children dragging boogie boards, kites and snorkels, followed by puffing, red-faced fathers bent beneath the burden of woven beach chairs, insulated coolers and, sometimes, small tents. It was all comical.

  Year-round Cove residents generally carried two things to Quinn Beach: a towel—any kind would do—and, if it were coming up on mealtime, something to eat. A sandwich, cheese and fruit, even a bag of Fritos worked.

  Chloe’s towel was threadbare, which meant it rolled without too much trouble into her backpack. She shook it out, placed the worn blue-and-white stripes on the sand, and dropped her backpack beside it.

  Kicking off the flip flops that were also part of her backpack essentials, she folded her legs and settled down onto the towel. The sea was calm, white caps in the distance breaking up the shades of blue with ribbons of foam.

  Teenagers frolicked close to the shore, just in from where a line of submerged rocks hid. They were hard to miss, being the noisiest group on the beach. Three couples, all laughing, splashing and swimming. Every few minutes, someone went under, victim to a playful dunking. They were fun to watch, so she observed them for a while.

  She had been that young once. That carefree. That innocent.

  It seemed a dream, almost, being so unencumbered by obligations.

  The ocean called, so she left her cares on the towel and walked to the edge. Skirting a toddler and what looked to be his grandmother, she put her feet in the water. The baby came close, waving a chubby fist her way. He wore only a diaper covered by clear plastic pants and his bare skin was sand-caked. He held up a seashell, babbling around four teeth.

  “He’s a honey.” She leaned down and smiled at the baby. “That’s a pretty seashell you’ve got there. Very pretty.”

  “He’s not big on conversation yet, but we’re getting there.” The older woman had varicose veins that stuck out so far from the legs not covered by her skirt that Chloe winced. Getting old didn’t look like a picnic.

  “How old is he?”

  “Jamie will be two next week. Time flies, you know. I remember when his father, my son, was this age. We brought him here to see the beach, too.” She met Chloe’s gaze with a wistful smile. “What can I say? We come all the way from Vermont—Benton, a small town—to Lobster Cove, just to give him the same experience we gave his father. My husband, Sol—may he rest in peace—he loved the beach. We came every summer.” She shook her head. “Now? It’s just me. A man who loved the ocean so much shouldn’t have passed on a farm, but what can you do?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The grandmother picked the toddler up, seashell and all. “Ah, what can you do? I’d better get him changed and put some clothes on him. His mother has such fair skin, and she’s passed it on. He’ll look like a lobster in fifteen minutes if I’m not careful.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. Enjoy your swim.”

  When she began to walk away, Chloe went further into the water. The woman’s voice stopped her.

  “Miss? You have any kids?”

  Water swirled around her knees. Seaweed brushed her calf, and the urge to dive in without responding was as powerful as the tug of ocean against her legs.

  “Kids?” She took a deep breath. “I do.”

  It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be, so she added, “A daughter.”

  It seemed to please the woman, because she nodded her approval before she made her way up the sand with the little boy.

  She dove into the ocean, let the water hold her weightless, and tried not to think too hard about how drastically her life was about to change.

  She swam for a long time, going out past the line of submerged rocks. They had been the cause of many shipwrecks over the centuries and she kept in mind that the space she enjoyed was above a watery grave.

  The Historical Society had many intriguing artifacts from some of the countless wrecks. An enormous mermaid from the bow of one ship hung suspended from a ceiling, piles of Spanish coin, pottery and utensils, ballast and even some clothing in moisture-controlled cases were among their best pieces.

  Sometime in the eighteenth century, the captain of one of the ships lost off the beach lived in Uncle Ted’s house. There was a mystery about the man, Sam Fisher, which had never been completely unraveled. Some said he was a pirate; others insisted he was a ship’s captain. It was, like so many tales told around lobster pots, pointless. What mattered is that he lived, and was still remembered.

  When her limbs grew weary, she headed for the shore. She walked the last yards, shaking her hair out as she went. When she looked up she saw her humble beach towel had been invaded.

  “This is cool, finding you here.” She dropped to the towel, rolled onto her stomach, and rested on her elbows.

  Uncle Ted’s beach chair sat in the circle of shade created by the umbrella. With his long, tanned legs stretched out before him, hands cr
ossed on his flat belly and a smile on his face, he looked like he hadn’t a care in the world. Beside him, Reva sat on a beach towel and held a big book on her lap.

  Reva met her gaze and smiled. She searched her eyes for a sign of anything amiss, but there was nothing to see.

  “Pretty cool finding you here. You’re the one who’s usually too busy to laze about the beach.”

  “Look who’s calling the kettle black, Ms. Bring a Book!”

  “Ladies, ladies—don’t make me separate you two.” Uncle Ted grinned. They all knew the teasing was pure fun. “Listen, I have a roll of Life Savers in my pocket. Anyone want one?”

  They both accepted the candy and sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes.

  Simple pleasures make life special, Chloe thought as she swirled the cherry flavor across her tongue.

  She checked Uncle Ted’s face. His eyes were open and when he saw her look over, he winked.

  “What’s up, my dear?”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  Reva smirked. “Like a pebble in the bottom of glass of water. I’d say that’s pretty transparent.”

  “We all know you and Neil had a scuffle last night, honey. And we saw his face this morning—damn, that man looked like he could have chewed his arm off, he was so pissed.” Uncle Ted looked over the top of his aviator sunglasses. “Why don’t you get it off your chest, whatever it is?”

  “It’s something good. I think it is, anyway.” She sat up, took a t-shirt from her backpack, and put it on. Something this momentous shouldn’t be blurted out when half naked. She opened her hands wide, palms to the cloudless blue sky. “I have a daughter.”

  The book hit the sand. The pages snapped closed with a leaden thump, but the almost-lawyer didn’t bat an eye. “A daughter?” Her gaze dropped to Chloe’s flat abdomen. “When are you due?”

  She looked at her uncle, who hadn’t said a word. “Six years ago. July 10, 1973, to be exact.”

  He broke into a grin. Slapping his hands together, he declared, “I’m a great-uncle—now that calls for a celebration!”

  Chloe laughed when Reva grabbed her and hugged her. Then, she went on the examination stand.

  “Is it Neil’s?”

  She nodded.

  “Now we know why he’s so angry. He didn’t know?”

  With a sigh, she shook her head. Wet tendrils stuck to her neck, so she pushed them away. “I gave her up for adoption. I didn’t tell him.”

  Reva pursed her lips. “On the birth certificate? Father’s name?”

  “I left it blank.”

  “Ah…so, he’s really pissed.”

  She looked at her uncle. “He wants me to marry him.”

  “He’s always wanted that. Tell me something I don’t already know.” He pulled the candy from his pocket and chose the top one for himself before handing her the roll. She took it but did not select another Life Saver.

  “I don’t want to marry him, Uncle Ted. I just don’t.”

  He straightened. “Motherhood must’ve clogged your ears, honey. I said, tell me something I don’t know. Neil is a nice guy—for someone else. He’s not the right man for you. Never has been, never will be.”

  “But Kyle…” Reva grinned. “Now that’s another story, isn’t it?”

  Yes, Kyle was in a class all his own. She’d given the relationship they were building a lot of thought last night, and again today. It was wonderful, and full of promise, but sadly it might fizzle before it took off.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty cool, but I don’t know how he’s going to feel about Penny.”

  “Penny. I like that.” Uncle Ted smiled so broadly she forgot about Neil and Kyle. The excitement radiating from her uncle’s eyes pushed every niggling doubt from her mind. “So when do I get to meet my great-niece? I’m so happy I could dance—”

  “No dancing!” Reva put a hand on his arm when he looked ready to push out of the chair. “Please, no dancing.”

  The truth will set you free—isn’t that what the great man had said? So many times, she had used those very same words with the women who came to the agency, assured them they would feel less bogged down by whatever life had hit them with if only they’d stand up and tell the truth. Help themselves, so others could help them, also.

  Time to tell her own truth. It was, again, not as easy as she’d believed when she was on the other side of things.

  “Tomorrow. I want her to meet everyone.”

  “And everyone wants to meet her, I’m sure.” Reva grinned. “Where does this little doll live? Nearby, I hope.”

  It was her turn to grin, so she let herself breathe and turned the shine on. “Yeah, nearby. Like, in a few days…with us.”

  Chapter 34

  When they returned home, they found Gabby and Julia in the back yard. It was still well before five o’clock, but both women held highball glasses. They sat around the fire pit with their chairs turned toward the house. When the trio walked across the grass, the pair raised their glasses.

  “What gives, girls? Tough morning at the Ponderosa?” Ted had brought his guitar, picking it up when he passed it in the house. Now, he sat in the Adirondack chair he favored and began to strum.

  Julia and Gabby exchanged looks.

  “You could say that.” Julia took a sip, then gave the glass a thoughtful swirl. Ice clinked softly. “Why don’t you guys get something to drink?”

  “You’re gonna need it. And make Chloe’s a double.” Gabby sighed, then drained her glass. “Forget it, I’ll make the drinks.”

  She rose and took Julia’s glass as well as her own into the house. They watched her sidestep the big lilac bush, swear as she caught her hair on a branch, then disappear inside.

  Uncle Ted strummed a bit of Janis Joplin’s Piece of My Heart. “I’ve got to trim that bush before it eats someone. Thing is older than Methuselah, though. Kind of hate to mess with something that old.”

  “We’ve got more on our plates than that old bush.” Julia pointed one finger to the sunroom roof. “Notice anything new about the place? Anything at all?”

  When she looked up, Chloe’s gut tightened. Seeing was one thing, but believing was something else entirely. The disaster was almost unfathomable.

  “No way.” Reva put a hand over her mouth.

  “Way.” Julia scraped paint off the chipping wooden chair arm with a cherry red fingernail. She did not look at any of them.

  She glanced at her uncle. He’d stopped plucking the guitar strings. He stared at his house, a hard line between his eyebrows.

  Yesterday, the roof’s progress was wonderfully evident. The rotten mess had been piled high beside the walkway, ready for removal. Sheets of new plywood, rolls of black roof paper and bundles of shingles stacked and ready for use. On the roof, Neil had installed a half dozen new beams, with sturdy plywood decking over top of them. They’d removed the plastic protecting the interior, because it was basically sealed up.

  Now, the sunroom was completely open to the elements. The fresh plywood had been butchered, cut in places and smashed in others. Whatever black paper had been attached to the wood was no longer nailed down. Most of it littered the ground beside the house. Some hung in spirals, into the sunroom and from the roof’s edges like crazy black streamers.

  “I-I…” There were no words in her mind. She’d known he was angry but never imagined he would be destructive. He’d made the roof worse than it was when she fell through it. “I-I just—”

  Gabby walked over, carrying a tray holding glasses. She stopped, balanced the tray with one hand and selected a glass. She pressed it into her hand. “Here. Don’t try to talk, just drink.”

  Chloe raised the glass to her lips. The liquid was cold, and slid down her throat in four gulps. She couldn’t pull her gaze from the horrendous mess. When ice crashed against her teeth, she put the empty on the tray. Her friend hadn’t moved, so she reached for a second highball glass. She paused, glanced over and was relieved when the other woman said, “Go on.
You deserve it.”

  Gabby went to the others, delivering drinks. Uncle Ted got a tall glass, which he preferred, with more tonic than gin in it.

  They looked at the mess for several long, silent moments. When her knees began to tremble, she sat in one of the webbed beach chairs scattered about the space. She closed her eyes, put her head back and tried to still her mind.

  Reva had chosen a spot beside Julia. Gabby sat nearer Uncle Ted, who looked less taken aback than any of the women.

  “You okay?” Reva’s voice was calm. Steady. She was a woman to inspire trust, and was going to make an incredible attorney.

  She opened her eyes. The oak branches seemed to hang lower with each passing season. The tree was so heavy and full of leaves that it blocked out the sky. Not a bit of blue showed past the layers of foliage.

  “No.” She rolled her head from side to side against the metal tubular chair frame. “I’m not okay. Not at all.” She sat up and pointed. “Do you see what that jerk did to our house? How the hell am I going to get that fixed? How am I going to bring my daughter home to this mess?”

  Gabby was crossing the lawn with another tray of glasses. She nearly dropped the tray when she heard the outburst. “Daughter? What daughter?”

  Uncle Ted chuckled. “My great-niece! I’m an uncle—again—isn’t that a blast?”

  Julia turned and grabbed Chloe’s arm. “A baby? What do you think you’re doing drinking like a fish? Give me that—”

  Gabby let out a screech. “I didn’t know you’re pregnant!”

  “No, it’s fine.” Reva’s was the voice of reason, so they paused. She stood and held up her hands in the air, above her head. Her glass was, luckily for her, only half full. “She is not pregnant. Penny is six, and she’s coming to live with us. Isn’t that the best news ever?”

  Gabby and Julia hugged Chloe so tightly she had to wiggle from their grasps. “You guys are going to choke me.” She laughed, gesturing everyone to their seats. “Yes, it’s true. I have a daughter and that’s the best thing in the world but really, has anyone seen that roof? What the hell was he thinking?”