Surfside Sisters(81)

Keely smiled and hugged him tightly. “I have been waiting all my life to hear you say that.”

“And what about you?”

    “What? Oh, Sebastian, you know I love you.”

“Still, it’s nice to hear.” He took her face in his hands. He kissed her slowly, firmly, for a long time.

“Okay,” Keely whispered. She felt in Sebastian’s body how he was struggling to control his breathing. She sensed his alarm, and she recognized how he calmed himself as he held on to her, not speaking, preserving his pride, not moving but lying pressed against her, making her his, making the two of them one. She held back her own tears. Oh, how she loved this man, and she respected his confession and his need. She would never betray him.





Keely returned home early in the morning. By noon, she’d written so much and so quickly her back ached and she had a twinge in her neck.

She stood up and stretched. At that moment, her phone buzzed.

Juan Polenski. Her editor.

“Keely, how are you?” he asked.

“I’m good. Well, pretty good. Life has gotten complicated here—”

“Sorry to hear that, but I don’t have much time. Listen, I’ve read your first three chapters, and I love them. How soon will you have the revised book finished?”

Keely laughed. “Wait, Juan, give me a moment. Wow, I’m so glad you like the book!”

“So how close are you to the end?”

“Um, I’ve still got a long way to go, Juan. I mean, I only started revising this spring. I’m working on it, but I can’t see finishing it before January.”

“How about November?”

“What?”

“If you get it in by November first, we can rush production through and have it ready for next summer.”

    “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can do that.”

“I know you can do it, Keely. Poor Girl comes out in July. We need Sun Music for next summer. Readers want more of your books.”

“Good to know! It makes me want to get back to work.”

“Great! Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

The moment they disconnected, Keely plunged back into her book.



* * *



—

She was lost in her fictional world when Sebastian called.

“Keely, could you come over now? And help me with Dad? Maybe sit and talk to him?” The urgency in his voice was compelling.

“Of course. I’ll come now.”

Keely found her bag, dropped the car keys in her pocket, told her mother where she was going, and hurried out to the car. She parked in front of the Maxwells’ house, not blocking any of the cars in the drive, and hurried up the slate walk. Sebastian opened the door before Keely could knock.

“Keely.” Sebastian pulled Keely into the house and hugged her tight. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad to help, Sebastian,” Keely said. And thought: Also, I hope I don’t meet your mother or your sister while I’m here.

He took Keely by the hand and led her along down the hall to the dining room. “All you have to do is sit by Dad’s bed and talk. Not fast. Be slow and not too loud. He’s not deaf. It’s like his brain is asleep and we have to wake it up but we can’t do it all at once.”

“Sebastian,” Keely said, stopping still before the door to the dining room. “Where are you going to be?”

“I’ll be around. Probably in the kitchen. I’ve got to talk to Mom. If you need me, just yell.”

Sebastian quietly escorted Keely into the dining room. A hospital bed sat majestically where the long dining room table had been. In the middle of the bed, Al Maxwell sat supported by a number of pillows, wearing striped pajamas, covered to the waist by a light blanket. Near the bed was a table littered with medicine bottles, tissues, a water pitcher, and a glass. Al Maxwell’s eyes were open, but unseeing.

    “It’s so dark in here,” Keely said.

“Dad can’t tolerate bright light yet. We’ve got the shades down and the curtains drawn. Things need to be muted for him.”

“Got it.”

“Dad, look who’s come to see you!” Sebastian spoke cheerfully, moving Keely in front of him. “It’s Keely. You remember her. She’s come to say hello.” Still with a light, cheerful tone, he continued. “Keely, why don’t you sit here in this chair. This is where we sit when we want to talk with Dad. Dad, I’m going to do some household chores, but I’ll be around. Keely wanted to have special time with you.”

“Hello, Mr. Maxwell,” Keely said.

Sebastian squeezed Keely’s hand and whispered, “I’ll be in my room.”

It took a moment for Keely to gather herself. It was bizarre to see the powerful Al Maxwell reduced to this silent, still, disconnected invalid.

She flashed on a day years ago when Mr. Maxwell, so strong and powerful, told Keely she should drop out of college to help her mother. He’d had no compassion for Keely then. And her heart burned with old anger…but it was tempered now, with sympathy.

She spoke quietly, as if everything were normal. “You might be surprised to see me, Mr. Maxwell. Usually I’m in New York. But this summer I’m living with my mother on the island while I write my new novel.”