After All (Cape Harbor #1)(70)
“I’m pregnant, Carly. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” What she had thought was the flu turned out to be anything but. She had stood for an hour in a pharmacy looking at the variety of pregnancy tests. She only needed to use one of the dozen she had bought to understand why she had been so sick.
Carly put her arm around Brooklyn and held her while they both cried. “Well, we’re going to raise this baby with all the love we can muster. Between your parents and me, this child will be rather spoiled, and you won’t be alone. You will never be alone. You know you can live with me, help me run the inn. I’ll take care of you, Brooklyn.”
“But I’m alone now, Carly. You’re leaving us,” she whispered. They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but Carly had never let her down, and she couldn’t imagine their lives without her. When Brooklyn’s career had taken off, Carly had begged her to let Brystol live in Seattle or Cape Harbor; however, like most mothers, Brooklyn hadn’t wanted to be without her daughter. The compromise was that every summer, Brystol would split time between the grandparents. Brooklyn needed time to heal and grow. She wanted to find love again and felt she couldn’t do that under Carly’s thumb.
Sometime after the sun had risen, Brooklyn felt fingers brushing through her hair. She smiled at the sensation. She loved having her hair played with. As she opened her eyes, the day and night before came rushing back. She popped her head up and saw that Carly was awake. She looked ashen and tired. “Hi,” she said.
Carly tried to smile, but her lips barely moved. “You know now?” she asked, clear as day.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would’ve forced me to get treatment, and that’s not what I want.”
“I would’ve respected your wishes, but yes, I would’ve encouraged it.” Brooklyn sat up and reached for Carly’s hand. She wanted to hold it for as long as possible. “We need to talk about your wishes, and what you want to do with the inn.”
Carly swallowed and spoke softly. “It’s Brystol’s. My will is in my desk, in my room. I’m leaving everything to her with you as the executor of my estate.” She inhaled deeply, gasping slightly for air. “I want my ashes spread where the accident happened. The coordinates are in a file. You, Bowie, and Brystol will do it. Simone gets seasick, so she won’t go.”
“Brystol and I can manage.”
Carly moved her head back and forth slowly. “I know, Brooklyn. I’ve known all along.”
“Known what?” Brooklyn asked her, confused by her statement.
“Brystol . . . she’s Bowie’s.”
Brooklyn let out a ghastly sound, something like a laugh and choking mixed together. “I think the meds are playing with your mind, Carly—I’m going to go get the doctor.” She stood, but Carly held on as tightly as she could to Brooklyn’s hand. She could’ve easily pulled away, but something held her there.
“No. Sit.”
She did as Carly requested.
“I know, and I’m telling you it’s okay.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brooklyn told her. “You’re worrying me. Please let me get the doctor.”
“I’m not crazy,” Carly said. “Bowie is Brystol’s father. I’ve known it all along. But I didn’t care. I know my granddaughter doesn’t belong to my son.”
Brooklyn shook her head as tears started to fall. Not only was Carly dying, but she was making outrageous accusations that had repercussions for everyone. “You’re wrong, Carly.” She ripped her hand away from hers and left the room.
TWENTY-SIX
Carly stood in the doorway of Brystol’s bedroom, watching the toddler sleep. On her bedside table, a framed picture of her parents sat, watching over their daughter while she slept, played, and sat in the rocker while her grandmother read to her. As far as Carly knew, it was the last photo of Austin and Brooklyn.
Every summer, the tot returned to Washington, but this was the first year she had come to Cape Harbor for an extended visit. For the first couple of years, Carly would travel to Seattle and stay in a hotel while Brystol visited. It wasn’t ideal but the only way to get to know her granddaughter. Each time she saw her, she looked for any sign her son was living in the little girl’s eyes. She had yet to see anything, and still she hoped. Maybe it would take time for Austin’s attributes to make their presence known, or maybe . . .
She sighed, made sure the night-light was flicked on, and checked that the baby gate was latched before she went downstairs. The last thing she wanted was for the toddler to take a tumble down the stairs if she got up in the middle of the night. So far, though, Brystol had been very good about yelling for her nonnie when she needed her. And each time Carly heard her sweet voice call for her, her heart broke.
Downstairs, Simone sat in one of the rocking chairs that faced the ocean. Carly joined her without saying a word. There were very few sailboats out on the water, and all the fishing boats had long come in. The ocean was calm, and any families that had been out had long gone back to their homes or hotels for the night.
“Took some calls today,” Simone said.
“We should disconnect the phone.”
“Or we should reopen the inn.”