Page 43 of An Island Summer
Toby looked down at her. “I can always switch back…” He turned toward the man, but she stood and caught his arm.
“No! No, that’s fine,” she said, not wanting to cause any drama with the other man. The dance was probably only three minutes. She could handle this.
The DJ announced the final numbers for people who still hadn’t found their dance partner. When everyone had been paired up, a jazzy, slow song began to play and Toby held out a hand to her. She took it, his warm, gentle touch heightening her nerves, and he spun her outward. Her dress puffed out around her legs, the two of them like an old Hollywood couple with him in his summer suit and her in a vintage gown.
Allowing herself to forget the things that usually got in the way, Meghan let herself savor the moment, the feel of Toby’s hand at her back and his fingers intertwined with hers. It was a totally different feeling from the beach dances she’d had standing on Pappy’s feet, as he guided her through the steps. Toby’s understanding of the dance was clear, his lead easy to follow, his embrace more commanding than Pappy’s had been, and his woodsy, spicy scent intoxicating.
“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked, letting her guard slip more than she wanted it to.
“My mother made me take dance lessons as a boy. She said it would help me when I was older.” He gave Meghan a spin.
She looked up at him. “And did it?”
“It got me a date with Jeanine Simpson in the tenth grade when I asked her to dance at our school formal. Otherwise, its value has been questionable at best.” He offered a small smile, making her wish she could always see that little glimmer in his eye. She wondered if it had helped him at his wedding, but he hadn’t mentioned one. Was it fictional—something out of Rupert’s imagination—or just too painful to mention?
Toby’s phone went off, slicing through the moment, and for an instant he paused, but then he reached into his pocket, silenced it, and carried on dancing, the two of them swaying to the music.
“You can get that if you want to,” Meghan offered.
He gave her another twirl. “It’s a party. I’m trying to enjoy it.”
“What if it’s important?” she pressed, thinking of Rupert.
He took a step toward her, invading her personal space and causing her heart to patter, and then guided her backwards, at arm’s length. “They’ll call back.” He wound her up into his arms and dipped her, making her laugh despite herself. But when she saw the eyes of the other inn workers on her, she sobered.
“What if it’s Rupert having one of his meltdowns?”
There was an instant of hesitation as he thought it through. But then Toby said, “He has an entire staff devoted to his care. He’ll be fine for two more minutes.” He pulled her toward him and moved to the music.
His phone pinged with a message.
“Please check it,” Meghan urged him, letting go of his hand and standing still in the middle of the dance floor.
The gentle look on his face faded and then hardened. Toby reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, putting it to his ear while plugging the other. He listened for a beat before his face fell, that look of apprehension sliding back into place on his features.
“What is it?” she asked as he ended the call.
“You were right. The call was concerning my grandfather. He’s awake and they need him to take his medicine, but he’s unresponsive. They’re wondering if my presence will help.”
“Maybe I should go too.”
“I’d hate for you to leave the party,” he said, an incredible compassion in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, making her want to put her hands on his face and tell him it would all be okay.
“Rupert is more important than any party.” Meghan took Toby’s hand and, without another thought, the two of them rushed out of the inn, jumping into Toby’s vehicle and speeding off while Meghan texted Tess to let her know what was going on.
Meghan held her phone tightly as the Range Rover hugged the road around the curves, Toby staring straight ahead. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to do it—maybe it was their dance, or the way the worry on his face seemed deeper today—but she noticed his hand gripping the gearshift tightly and she placed hers on his. He glanced over, surprise registering, and then something else she couldn’t decipher, his knuckles releasing, his hand relaxing with her touch. She knew then that whatever they faced when they got there, they’d do it together.
SIXTEEN
“Rupert has taken a turn. Since last night, he has completely drawn into himself and isn’t responding to staff,” Dr. Hughes said from behind her office desk to Meghan and Toby. “There are a few reasons he may have done this. Being alone much of the time can make someone with Alzheimer’s withdraw. We’ve already seen how he’s turning inward, indulging in his fantasies.”
“I don’t know if heishaving fantasies,” Meghan said.
Dr. Hughes regarded her with interest.
Meghan explained about what she’d read in the journal and the information she’d gotten at the museum, and how they compared to what he’d said, Toby looking on with skeptical curiosity. “I think he actually knows Hester, and he’s reverting back to his younger years.”
“I’m still not entirely sure that’s the case. It doesn’t make any sense,” Toby replied. “His whole life, we’ve never heard anything about Hester Quinn. Given how much he’s talking about her now, wouldn’t he have mentioned the woman to me before the dementia had set in?”
