After All (Cape Harbor #1)(73)
Bowie ran his hand over the appliances. They were in pristine condition, and from what he could gather, recently replaced. Someone had done some work in here. The flooring was new, the walls painted, cabinets changed, and the old tile countertop was now granite. He tried not to let it bother him that he hadn’t been the one who made those changes. After all, he didn’t deserve to be here after the way he had treated Carly since Austin’s passing.
The door to the kitchen swung open, startling Bowie. He jumped and clutched his clipboard to his chest, as if to keep his rapidly beating heart securely in place. He’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and by the expression on Simone’s face, she knew it.
“Bowie,” she said sternly. Her tone gave everything away; she knew Carly hadn’t wanted him in the kitchen.
His posture relaxed, and he tugged on his hat, adjusting the way it was sitting. “I was trying to help, to make sure everything was in working order.”
Simone sighed. “Shortly after Austin died, Carly came in here with a sledgehammer. She destroyed everything. It’s taken me about ten years to fix it all. The appliances arrived about two months before she called you and Brooklyn to do the renovation,” she said as she ran her hand over the stove.
“You did all of this?”
Simone had a gleam in her eye. “When you spend most of your time cooped up, living with a recluse, you find yourself with a lot of time on your hands.”
“How?” he asked. He shook his head and rephrased his question. “What I mean is, it looks professionally done.”
“Do-it-yourself books and online videos. There isn’t anything you can’t learn from watching how-to videos.”
He was shocked and held out his hand to give her a high five. “If you’re ever looking for a job, call me.”
Simone smiled. “Anyway, Carly figured your feelings would be hurt and wanted to spare you the pain. Same with Brooklyn. She’s not allowed in here, either, although I suppose she’s been in here at night. I haven’t slept much lately and hear things.”
After what he had done to her, Carly was still trying to watch out for him. The thought warmed him, humbled him, and made him want to be a better man. If she could look past how he had treated her, he could look past the pain he associated with Brooklyn.
About midafternoon, Bowie received a text from Graham saying that he needed to talk to him. He was right. The outburst from Grady during Austin’s bonfire still left a bad taste in his mouth. Bowie didn’t want to assume Graham had broken his trust, but all signs pointed in that direction. Nothing Grady had said that night made sense. He shouldn’t be angry with Brooklyn because if he knew the real story of what went down—the truth—then Grady might not be so eager to lay blame on Brooklyn. Unless Austin had told Grady that night on the boat, but it was unlikely, judging by the way he had reacted to seeing Brooklyn on the beach. Bowie and Brooklyn had kept their secret buried, but he had a feeling it was about to open like Pandora’s box.
Bowie checked in on Brystol and told her he had to cancel his lunch break due to having to run a few errands but that he would be back. He asked her if she wanted him to take her to the hospital to visit her grandmother when he got back, to which she said that would be nice and that she would ask her mom. Again, Bowie wanted to be the one to reach out to Brooklyn, but not having her number was posing a problem for him, and he was growing desperate and was close to caving and asking Brystol for it.
The Whale Spout had a few patrons inside when Bowie arrived. A couple of guys from the docks were tossing darts, and there was a couple cozied up in the corner. He took a seat at the bar, farthest away from everyone. Words were going to be said, words that could hurt people in his life, and he didn’t want anyone picking up on them and spreading them like wildfire. What had happened was in the past.
“Beer?” Graham asked.
“Water.” Bowie fully intended to take Brystol to the hospital later and didn’t want to ruin his chances by having a beer or two at lunch.
Graham pushed the glass in front of him and set his hands on the edge of the bar. He wouldn’t look at Bowie, but he could see the torment in his eyes. Graham had betrayed Bowie’s trust. Bowie wished he had opted for a beer or something stronger. He was going to need booze to numb him and calm his thoughts.
“How’s Carly?”
“I left the hospital late last night after they finally put her in a room. Things aren’t good, man. She has stage four breast cancer. According to Simone, she’s refused treatment.”
Graham’s face paled. “How long?”
Bowie shook his head slowly. “Not long. Brooklyn’s with her now.”
They sat there for a moment, not speaking until Graham pushed off the bar and sighed heavily. “That shit with Grady . . . listen, you have to know I’ve never said anything to him about . . . ya know . . .”
“So how does he know?”
“That’s just it—I don’t know. He’s talking gibberish right now, not making much sense. Saying shit about taking the trawler out to look for Austin’s body.” Graham ran his hand through his hair and let out another large sigh.
“Grady needs help.”
“I know. But my parents . . .” He paused when the door opened. It was one of the local fishermen coming to join his friends. “They say he’s fine. They don’t want to believe that their son is the town drunk.”