Page 64 of Spindrift

“Yes.Which makes me smarter than you. Sleep with Emilia and forget about Kate.”

“Maybeyou should take your own advice.”

“Ican’t sleep with Emilia. She’s too tall. I’d never be able to reach anything.”

“Asshole.”

Chapter Ten

Emiliaturned in a slow circle, balancing her weight on Nell’s collar. The houselooked almost unrecognizable. Cream colored walls. Blue trim in the livingroom, raw beams in the kitchen, and all the shadows chased back beneath thesuddenly faded chairs and end tables. She’d taken up the rugs, too, and moppedand polished the hardwood floors until they gleamed in the morning sun. Herfather wouldn’t have recognized his own living room.

Thepaint job also highlighted the out-of-date kitchen and older appliances.Problems for the new owner, she decided. Her father hadn’t left her enoughmoney to fully update the house, but at least the potential was now visible,and she could turn her attention to the outside.

Shereached for her phone to text Morgan, as she had a hundred times since that dayat the boathouse a week and a half ago. As she had each time, however, her fingersfaltered. What the hell was she supposed to say? Leaving the decision to herhad been a dick move on Morgan’s part, and she’d spent several days stewingover Morgan’s words. Claiming a lack of agency was a cop-out, and an unfair oneat that.

Thenthere were her dreams. Try as she might to block her imagination from dwellingon Morgan Donovan during the day, at night her mind betrayed her. The result ofher frustration and confusion was this: a freshly painted house. Crossing thetask off her mental check list left the following list of things to resolvebefore she could get out of Seal Cove: put the house on the market, scatter herfather’s ashes, and figure out the rest of her life. It didn’t bring her thesense of closure she’d hoped. Paint met her nostrils instead of the lingeringwhiff of tobacco. The walls looked significantly less terrifying without theirtaxidermy occupants, but she almost missed their glassy stares.

“Whatdid we do, Nell?”

Thedog leaned against her leg in response.

Hadthis whole thing been a mistake? Not that she’d had much choice as executor ofher father’s estate, as well as the inheritor of said estate. The house hadneeded work. She could have paid someone, but that would have come with its ownanxieties.

“Mom?”she said when her mother answered her call.

“Hi,sweetie. Is everything okay?”

“No.I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Ohhoney. It’s hard. It’s so, so hard. Do you need me to come up?”

“Idon’t know.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “I finished painting, and nowI don’t know what to do.”

“Takeit easy for a few days. Take Nell to the beach and read a book, or see your newfriends. Then think about contacting a real estate agent to help you.”

Areal estate agent. Someone who would set a price on what was left of herfather’s life.

“DoI have to?” She sounded like a child.

“Youdon’t have to do anything, love. Your stepdad and I can take care of everythingif you want us to.”

“Ijust . . .” She took a deep breath. “I just can’t believe he’s really gone.”

“Iknow.”

“Ithought it was supposed to get easier.”

“Itdoes, and it will, but easier doesn’t mean easy.”

“Doyou ever miss him?”

Along pause echoed on the line.

“Partsof him. I miss the way he used to make me laugh. I miss listening to him playguitar. I miss how much he adored you.”

Emiliaheard the unspoken litany of the things she didn’t miss. The drinking. Theinfidelity. The unpredictability of his moods and his refusal to change. Ben,her stepfather, was a much better husband, and he’d been a more reliable father.

“TellBen I say hi.”

---