Good for You: A Novel (74)

Even so, she had one more thing to do before she called it a day. “Roger,” she said to his voice mail, “it’s Aly Jackson. I just want to know what I’d need to do if I wanted to transfer the deed to my brother’s beach house to Wyatt Goldstein.”





THIRTY-NINE


Wyatt did not come home that night, and Aly tried not to think too much about where he was laying his head, or why he hadn’t called. Of course, she hadn’t called him, either. She wasn’t sure if he’d pick up if she did. But mostly, she wanted to talk to him face-to-face.

That wasn’t the only conversation that wasn’t meant for the phone. So after breakfast the following morning, Aly invited her mother over. Cindy sounded surprised to hear from her, and Aly almost didn’t expect her to come. But forty minutes later, she was at the door, holding a bouquet of wildflowers.

“How are you holding up?” she said, examining Aly much in the way Aly used to examine Cindy when she was trying to figure out how loaded she was.

“Better than expected,” said Aly. She hesitated, then leaned in to give her mother a hug. “Thank you again for the other day.”

“No need to thank me,” said Cindy, but she held on to Aly longer than she normally would have.

“Well, come in and make yourself comfortable,” said Aly, taking the flowers from her mother. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”

“Sure,” said Cindy, sitting on one of the stools at the island.

Aly put the flowers in a vase and filled it with water. Then she poured Cindy a mug of the dark roast she’d just made. “Here you go,” she said, passing it to her. “It’s not as good . . .” It occurred to her that she didn’t need to censor herself—not anymore. “It’s not as good as Wyatt’s,” she finished.

“If it’s hot, it’s good enough for me,” said Cindy, lifting the coffee to her lips. She took a sip, then said, “It’s perfect. Speaking of Wyatt, any word?”

“No,” said Aly, who couldn’t help but look through the double doors to see if a tall man with terrible posture happened to be roaming the beach. Alas. “There’s something I need to tell you, Mom,” she said, turning back to Cindy.

Cindy smoothed her T-shirt before meeting her daughter’s eyes. “I’m listening.”

After the truth bombs she’d dropped the day before, Aly hadn’t expected to have trouble telling her mother the whole story.

And yet.

“Luke didn’t just leave the house to me,” she said quietly. “He left it to Wyatt, too—that’s why we’ve been living together. We weren’t dating yet when you stopped by that day.”

“Not dating?” Cindy shook her finger playfully. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Aly blushed. “Yeah, well, it did turn into something.”

“I should think so! That is one good-looking man, and the sparks flying between you two—whoo boy!”

“Yeah,” said Aly, who had to smile. “It was really good until I messed it up.”

“Then you haven’t made up with him yet?”

She glanced out at the water. “No. But I might leave the house to Wyatt, Mom. He loves it here.”

“And you don’t?” said her mother, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve come to,” Aly admitted. She would miss walking on the beach in the morning, and the coffee shop downtown, and being able to see Mari.

“Then why are you leaving?” said her mother. “Summer’s the best time to be here. Though fall’s not so bad, either, and winter’s pretty idyllic with all that snow. But spring?” Cindy made a face. “Ack! I’m sure you remember how wet and gray it is in this part of Michigan. Everyone’s itching to get it over with and get back to the beach. So if you can leave in, oh, March, I’d say you’re golden.”

Aly laughed. “I didn’t know you were trying to sell me on staying.”

Cindy looked embarrassed as she glanced out the windows. “It’s just nice having you around is all. I know you have your job to get back to, but . . .”

“Actually, I quit.”

Cindy whipped around to look at her. “You? Left the magazine?”

Aly nodded. “Yeah. Being here has given me a chance to think about what I want. And . . . it’s not that anymore. Luke left me some money, so I’ll be okay. I might head to Chicago to be near Harry.”

Cindy stood and began to pace. “Aly Jackson, I just don’t think you should leave this place. Your brother left it to you, too. And didn’t you give me an earful about letting Billy move into my bungalow?”

Well, yes—she had. But this was different. “Is he still there?” she asked.

“You know that’s not what I’m getting at.”

“Sure, but did you tell him to leave?” asked Aly.

“Not yet.”

Cindy and Billy were both yellers, but Aly didn’t know him to be physically aggressive. That didn’t mean her mother felt comfortable kicking him out. “Well, I think it’s time, don’t you? I could help you. Or if you want, Luke’s lawyer is really good—I bet he’d know how to handle it. I’d be happy to give him a call.”