Brenda Novak - The Secrets She Kept

Maisey held her seat belt away from her body so she could turn around and pet him. “You were trying not to set him down until you got home?”

“I didn’t see any reason to let his bandage get dirty.”

“He’s too big to carry,” Maisey said with a chuckle.

Nancy refused to let her gaze shift back to that rearview mirror and what it revealed of Keith. She could smell his cologne, which was bad enough. “I do it all the time—pick him up and carry him over to the couch so he’ll sit with me, or to the tub out back for his bath. He’d never voluntarily get in the tub. But I’ve never tried to haul him several blocks. The distance makes a difference.”

“I’ll bet,” she agreed. “I’m glad we saw you.”

“So am I,” Nancy lied and turned her face toward the window so Keith wouldn’t be able to get a good look at her even if he tried.

“How’s business at the flower shop?” he asked.

She cleared her throat. “Better than ever.”

“Who’s working today?”

“Marlene Fillmore, a new girl. You wouldn’t know her. She moved to the island about a year ago. From Charleston.”

“Did you train her?”

“Didn’t need to—not really. She worked out of her house doing flowers for weddings, so she’s had plenty of experience.”

“That’s good.”

Why would he care? He’d left all of this behind...

“I’m sorry about your mother,” she said to finally get that out of the way. “I...” She wasn’t sure what else to add. She knew how he’d felt about Josephine. She also knew that some of his problems revolved around the fact that he couldn’t completely hate her, couldn’t completely turn away from the woman who’d raised him.

Or had he come to terms with cutting her off? Maybe that was why he was doing so well. “I was shocked and saddened,” she finished.

“Thank you.”

His response was polite, nothing that offered any clue as to how deeply he was hurting. But they’d arrived at her house. There was no need to make more conversation.

As soon as he came to a full stop, she reached for her dog, but he spoke before she could take Simba in her arms.

“Did my mom ever say anything to you that sounded like she might be contemplating suicide?”

“No. I got no indication whatsoever.”

“Would you say she was acting the same?”

Mrs. Lazarow had been as irritable and caustic as ever. But Nancy couldn’t say that. Keith and Maisey had to be mourning, no matter how they’d felt about their mother. “I got the impression she was in good spirits. So I’m as stunned as everyone else.”

Simba’s collar jingled as she lifted him into her lap.

“Nancy?”

Keith again. She waited while he turned to look directly at her.

So much for avoiding his gaze...

“Have you ever met Hugh Pointer?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Hugh Pointer. My mother was dating him. Did she ever bring him into the flower shop? Mention him to you?”

“She told me she was going to Australia to see someone she was dating. Maybe that was Hugh. She asked me to complete the work schedule at the shop for the next few weeks so she could leave feeling confident that I’d be able to get by without her—having someone to take over on my days off and so on. That’s it.”

She got the feeling that he would’ve liked to ask her more, but she didn’t give him the chance. She climbed out as gracefully as she could while cradling a sixty-five-pound dog.

“Thanks for the ride,” she called and managed to close the door with her hip.

Unfortunately, he got out, too—and hurried around the car. “Here, I’ll take Simba,” he said. “You go unlock the door.”

She wished Simba would growl or refuse to be touched, but he was the friendliest Chow on the planet. Even if he hadn’t remembered Keith, he wouldn’t have balked. He lowered his ears and wagged his tail in greeting while Keith took him from her.

Traitor. Cursing herself for ever going out of the house this morning, Nancy hurried up the walkway ahead of them—and nearly dropped her keys, she was in such a hurry to open the door.

Several seconds later, she managed to get the key in the lock. “Go ahead and set him inside,” she said as she swung the door wide.

As soon as Keith put Simba down, Simba limped off to curl up in his bed by the couch.

“Thanks again.” She thought that was it, that she’d soon be able to breathe a sigh of relief and congratulate herself on not melting at the sight of her former lover. However, Keith put a hand on the door.

“I can tell you’re not interested in hearing this, but...I’m sorry,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I was...I was a wrecking ball back then. I destroyed everything and everyone I came into contact with.”

He’d been trying to destroy himself more than anything, to escape the pain he was in. She understood. But it didn’t make things any easier that she’d wanted so much more from him than he’d ever wanted from her.

She pushed the wet hair out of her face. “You have nothing to worry about,” she said. “That was years ago. I don’t think about it anymore.”

“Really? Because I still owe you money.”

He withdrew his wallet, but she stopped him before he could open it. Maisey had already reimbursed her for what Keith had borrowed. Keith’s sister had made her take the money and asked her not to tell Keith she’d stepped in. They both knew he wouldn’t appreciate her getting involved in his business, especially since her actions revealed doubt that he’d ever take care of the debt himself.

The old Keith wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have been able to...

“Don’t worry about that, either,” she said. “I helped out a friend. No big deal.”

He blinked at her. “You won’t let me pay you back?”

Shit... Considering the situation, and the fact that he now had way more money than she did, pretending wasn’t believable, wasn’t even reasonable. The amount was too great. “To be honest, your sister paid me a long time ago, Keith. So, please, give the money to her.”

There went her promise but, short of accepting the money, which she didn’t want to do, she felt she had no other choice.

“Oh.” He frowned as he put away his wallet.

Eager for a shower so she could begin her day, Nancy nearly shut the door and let it go at that. She planned to forget she’d ever encountered him. But she did feel some sympathy for the loss he’d suffered. “I’m sincerely sorry about your mother. If there’s anything I can do to help out with the funeral, please let me know. I’m already doing the flowers—for free, of course.”

He studied her through the crack she’d left between the door and its frame. “You should get paid for that.”

“No. I’m happy to contribute. She was my employer for seven years. I learned a lot from her. I’m a much better designer thanks to...” her intense criticism “...her high standards.”

“Okay.”

“Enjoy your stay on the island.” No doubt she’d see him at the funeral, but she didn’t plan on speaking to him again. They’d both said all that needed to be said.

After she closed the door, she leaned against it and forced herself to stay put instead of hurrying over to the window so she could watch him return to his car. For five years she’d been telling herself she never wanted to see him again—and yet she craved a better look, a chance to study him without his looking back at her.

He’d changed as much as Maisey had said, she decided, picturing him in her mind instead. He’d filled out that tall, spare frame, packed a lot more muscle onto it, but he was still lean and wiry. He didn’t have a weight problem like she did. His face, once so exaggerated, so angular, had softened, as well. He no longer appeared gaunt, which suggested he was eating—something he didn’t do enough of when he was on drugs. His eyes were clearer and brighter, too, his whole bearing more confidence.