Page 99 of Whisking It All

Baz gave a tight shake of his head. “He went out to cool off. Drove around town a few times. When he got home, she was gone.”

“Maybe she just did the same thing he was doing,” Gavin said. “Maybe she just needed some air and she’ll be back soon too.”

“She had to take all her stuff for that?” Baz asked, making it clear just what he thought of that idea.

“She’s not coming back,” Jamie said, the words burning his throat like acid.

“You don’t know that,” Gavin said.

“She asked me to run away with her and I said no,” Jamie said, dazed as he replayed that conversation in his mind. How had he missed it? How had he not understood that she was going to leave whether or not he went with her?

Baz swore under his breath.

“She’s running away.” Jamie slumped against the side of the building, the ground shifting beneath his feet as his stomach lurched. “Just like she did that first night.”

“Just like her mother,” Baz mumbled.

“Jamie, think,” Gavin said. “Where would she go?”

He thought of all the places she’d talked about visiting—Italy and Sri Lanka and the French countryside. He thought of all the places she’d lived before coming to Aster Bay—Vegas and Phoenix and South Carolina. He thought of her most recent stepfather in Colorado and her grandparents in Florida.

Fuck, she could be anywhere.

“I don’t know,” he said helplessly.

Chapter 32

Jamie: Where are you? What happened with Ethan?

Tessa stared at the message. What happened with Ethan? Not “are you okay?” or “why did you leave?” or “are you coming back?” No, the most important question Jamie could think of asking her was about her father.

She darkened the screen and slid the phone into her purse as the cab pulled up outside the modest one-story, stucco home with a red-tile roof. She paid the driver and gathered her bags from the trunk. As the cab disappeared down the palm tree-lined street, it occurred to her that she’d left one place where she was no longer welcome and come to another that might also not want her. After all, she hadn’t seen her grandparents in years. Would they even recognize her? What if Ethan already told them what happened? What if they were just as disgusted with her as he was?

The door to the house opened slowly, a petite woman with a reddish-brown bob and wire-frame glasses appearing in the doorway. She dried her hands on the edge of the ruffled, red gingham apron that she wore loosely tied around her neck and waist.

“Is it really you?” she asked.

Tessa swallowed, the sound of her grandmother’s voice washing over her like a wave, pulling her under, tempting her to drown in the rush of memories of being a little girl and hearing that voice call her in for dinner.

“Hi, Grama,” she said with a watery smile.

Her grandmother nearly ran down the front walk to meet her, sweeping her up in a hug far tighter than Tessa would have suspected a woman of her age was capable of. She pressed Tessa against her, clutching her head to her chest.

“It’s good to see you, baby girl,” she said, her voice thready with emotion.

Tessa sank into the hug, dropping her bag on the sidewalk and gripping the older woman back. “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” she choked out, tears gathering in her throat in a hot tangle.

Grama tutted. “You’re here now.” She pulled away, holding Tessa’s shoulders as her eyes swept over her face. Something softened in her gaze, like with that simple look she’d found the rough, broken edges behind Tessa’s tight smile, but if she had, she didn’t say anything. “Come in, come in. Gramps will be so glad to see you.”

“How’s he doing?” Tessa asked as she picked up her bag again and followed her grandmother up the walk.

“He’s still asking me for bacon every morning, so he can’t be doing too poorly,” she laughed.

“Lou, who was it?” her grandfather called from the living room as Grama closed the front door behind them.

They rounded the corner into the living room, Tessa’s shoes clacking against the tile floors. There, in an old orange and brown paisley easy chair, was her grandfather. His glasses were pulled down to the edge of his nose as he assessed the folded newspaper in his hand, a pencil poised to fill in the next clue in the crossword puzzle.

“Come and see for yourself,” Grama said, ushering Tessa further into the room.

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