The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(38)

“What kind of drum?”

“It’s a steel pan.”

He glances over her car seat at me for clarification.

“My sister lives on a sailboat in the Caribbean.” I tell him about Ben’s death and Anna’s subsequent sailing adventure, how she met Keane.

“Keane is like a pirate,” Maisie says. “But he doesn’t wear the black thingy on his eye.”

“Oh yeah?” Mason says carefully.

She nods. “One of his legs only has leg on the top part. The bottom’s not real.”

“He wears a prosthesis,” I explain.

“Okay, I follow that logic.”

Maisie launches into one of her monologues about her birthday party, and I clock Mason to make sure she’s not stressing him out, but he nods and makes appropriate noises in all the right places.

We stop for pizza in Sandusky, and when we finally reach Kelleys Island, it’s dark and Maisie is crashed out in her car seat, well past her bedtime. Mason grabs the suitcases as I carry her into the house.

When I switch on the kitchen light, I see it.

The frat house is gone.

Instead there’s a plush goldenrod-yellow micro-suede couch tossed with colorful throw pillows, an armless leather chair the color of whiskey, and a teal velvet armchair. There are end tables and lamps. Plants and artwork. A large area rug that ties together the colors of the furniture. A bookshelf with not enough books. And in the space between the kitchen island and the living room, there’s a wooden dining table with ladder-back chairs.

“What—” I stop abruptly, shocked speechless.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s—How could I not? It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ve been living on hold for the past year,” he says. “Like there was a chance Jess would come back and fill the place up again. But that’s never gonna happen. I’ve also been thinking that it’s selfish to expect you and Maisie to steer clear of me. You shouldn’t have to confine yourself upstairs because my head is a mess.”

“Are you sure?”

“After Jess left, I completely shut down,” he says. “Which is why the hotel isn’t finished, the beer didn’t get brewed, and the upstairs apartment never happened. Trust me, I know this arrangement is not normal, but we can’t keep living like it’s a temporary situation. If you don’t want to do this anymore, I can—”

“I want to stay.”

He nods. “Okay, then. Welcome home.”

I push away a tear with the heel of my hand. “Thank you.”

“You should probably get Maisie to bed.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, impressed at how far out onto an emotional limb he’s gone. I don’t press him to go further. “I’ll leave the suitcases for the morning. Good night, Mason.”

“Night.”



* * *



In the morning, the suitcases are in the hallway outside my bedroom door and there’s a warm cup of green tea on the counter. I sip slowly as I walk around the new living room. It feels like every detail was mined from my own brain, or—

I call Avery. “Did you have anything to do with this living room transformation?”

“I might have stalked your Pinterest account and offered suggestions that had absolutely nothing in common with your preferences.”

“You knew?”

“Mason asked for our help, which he hasn’t done in an awfully long time,” Avery says. “So I went on a wild spending spree with his credit card and the three of us did all the work. It was like being part of the behind-the-scenes crew on a home makeover show.”

“Why would he do this?”

“That’s what we’ve been wondering,” she says. “For the past year, Mason has walled himself off from almost everyone. Then you show up and blast a hole in the brickwork, and things start getting done. But when we asked, he just shrugged and said the house needed to be finished.”

I can’t tell her what Mason told me about living on hold and hoping Jess would come back. It’s not my story to share.

“He wasn’t wrong about that,” I say.

“I know,” Avery says. “But we’re still hoping you two are having some sort of secret affair.”

“We’re not. I swear. I’m just as surprised as you.”

“Well, it was nice to have the old Mason back for a little while.”

If this Mason—and the Mason who picked me up at the airport yesterday—is what he’s really like, I’m in bigger trouble than I thought.

“I know there aren’t a ton of kids on the island, but how do people handle day care after school lets out for the summer?” I ask, changing the subject. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with Maisie.”

“I’ll take her,” Avery says. “She and Leo get along so well, and it would be great for him to have someone to play with. And since my classes are in the evenings and on weekends, I’d be happy to have her.”

“How much?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?” I say. “Are you sure?”

“She’ll be doing me a favor,” Avery says. “I can only take part in so many LEGO spaceship battles before I lose my mind.”