Page 51 of Drawing Home
“I’ve been calling you,” Angus said quietly.
“My phone died.” She turned back to Mark. “Can we talk outside?” she said.
Mark followed her out to the garden. The sun was getting high overhead so she moved to the shade of her poplar tree, swatting aside a yellow jacket.
“I see you’re keeping up with the flowers,” he said.
She was in no mood for small talk. “What are youdoinghere?”
He crossed his arms and smiled at her. “You look great, Emma. Really terrific.”
She hated to admit how good the compliment from him made her feel. Why did she even care what he thought? Thirteen years, and she still wasn’t over the sting of his abandonment. “Mark, I asked you a question.”
He sighed as if she were being a drag for not acting like they were old pals. “I had some business in East Hampton and I couldn’t leave without trying to see Penny.”
“So you just suddenly had the urge to see your daughter?”
“It wasn’t sudden. This was just the first practical opportunity.”
Emma raked her hand through her hair. “Why didn’t you call me? You can’t just show up like this after all this time, Mark. It’s not right. It’s going to confuse Penny.” It was confusingher.
“She’s a great kid. You’re doing a good job, Em.”
The flattery hit her right where she was most vulnerable, and it was as strong as a rush of dopamine. “Thank you. Look, I’m glad you want to see her. I’m sure she wants to see you too. But there’s a right way to go about things, Mark.”
“I know, I know. Sorry, I just got carried away. You know I’m not much of a planner.”
Yes, she did. He wasn’t much on follow-through either. “So how long are you here for?”
He glanced up at the sky and exhaled. “I’m going to play it by ear. There’s always a chance things will heat up on this project I’m working on and I’ll have to see people in East Hampton again. So I’m going to stay local for a week or two.”
A week or two? He hadn’t spent more than a night in town since the summer he’d left for good. Somewhere deep down, an alarm bell sounded. But it was silenced—or at least muffled—when he pulled a check out of the pocket of his cargo shorts and handed it to her.
“Sorry I’ve been behind. So what do you say I take our kid to the beach for the day?”
Our kid.Powerful, powerful words.
Emma opened her mouth to tell him that Penny had run off yesterday and was grounded, but then she decided that was more information than he needed to have.
“Let’s give this a day to settle,” she said instead. “Why don’t you let Penny go about her normal schedule today and you can pick her up tomorrow morning?”
He seemed about to protest, but then he stopped himself, smiled, and said, “You’re the boss.”
Yes, she was. So why did she suddenly not feel like it?
“Ma’am, we’re closing in twenty minutes. I’m going to need to return those documents to the archives room.”
Bea looked up in annoyance.Documents—as if she were perusing old housing records. “They’re not documents,” she muttered. Oh, Henry’s work did not belong stuffed away in the library. For the hundredth time, she wondered what he had been thinking.
She waited for the librarian to leave, then quickly snapped photos of the drawings. Knowing she had a copy of them in her phone made her feel a little bit better, but only for a moment. Returning them to the circulation desk felt like handing over her child. This was all so wrong!
Heart heavy, she walked outside. Day was turning to evening. She stood between two massive stone Doric columns and called Kyle. Mercifully, he actually answered. She heard the distinctive rumbling of a boat motor.
“Don’t tell me you’re at the marina again,” she said.
“Just spending some time with the locals,” he said. “You never know what that will turn up. In fact, I did overhear an interesting conversation that I want to loop you in on.”
“We can discuss it over dinner.”
