The Handy Men Page 9

  Until Jack or Dean fixed the Keurig, she could use her coffee press, but she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about replacing the maid. Maybe she’d set her mom to work. The image of her scrubbing the toilet was almost too much to bear.

  Of course on her way back from the store, her bike tire went flat. She called Jack’s number, but there wasn’t an answer, so she tried Dean, who picked up at the very last second.

  “Hey, baby,” he said.

  Despite her really shitty day, just hearing his voice made her grin. “Can you grab my keys and come pick me up? I’ve got a flat and I don’t feel like walking the bike back with a gallon of milk slowly going bad in my basket. I’m on Main Street, but I think I’m going to duck into The Clam Shack for an early lunch. Want to join me? I couldn’t get a hold of Jack.”

  “The Clam Shack?” Dean sounded a little alarmed. “No, don’t go there. They had a bunch of bad clams. People got really sick. I’ll pick you up at Cinnamon.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I’m all for cake and coffee instead of dysentery. Okay, I’ll try to save you a slice of the blueberry buckle. But I’d hurry, just in case.”

  “Will do,” he said, with a sigh of relief.

  Pushing her bike along, she paused outside The Clam Shack. Too bad. Their clam strips and fries made life worth living. Putting down the kickstand, she hauled her gallon of milk with her as she decided to give Mr. Perkins, the owner, her condolences.

  The hostess wasn’t at the door and there was a Seat Yourself sign by the dining area. This place was going to be packed to the gills soon. There was a beautiful view of the ocean, and for happy hour they got a steel drum band so you could pretend you were in Jamaica instead of off the coast of Connecticut.

  A familiar laugh caught her attention and she swung her head to see Jack. He was eating lunch, clam strips by the look of it, with Stephanie.

  Oh shit.

  Ducking out before they could see her, she hurried back to her bike. Dean had lied to her and Jack hadn’t answered his phone because he’d been with Stephanie. That’s not what you did when your girlfriend called. That’s what you did when you didn’t want the woman you were sleeping with to know you were with another woman.

  She waited outside of Cinnamon for Dean. The thought of eating anything turned her stomach.

  “Did they run out of cake?” Dean asked as he secured her bike on the rack of the car.

  Paige shook her head, not bothering to trust her voice.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, touching her arm.

  “Just take me home, please. I need to get this in the fridge and make sure everything is all right for my parents.”

  “Sure,” Dean said sympathetically.

  She was sure he thought her mood was about her parents, and she was content to let him think that while she came to terms with a few things.

  “Do you need anything from Jack or me?”

  Paige shook her head, trying to see past the jealousy for a rational reason why Dean warned her off going to The Clam Shack, if everything was on the up and up. “Are you guys staying on the boat tonight or are you going home?”

  They hadn’t discussed it, but Paige now thought it was best if they weren’t staying with her while her parents were up.

  “I think we’re going to stay local, so if you need us we can be there.”

  Local, like the house near Stephanie? “I see.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She didn’t want to have a fight, but she couldn’t meet her parents or start her business off with this looming over her head. “Where’s Jack?”

  Dean’s eyes went back to the road and he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you lying to me?”

  His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Tell me why Jack is eating bad clams with Stephanie, then.”

  Dean winced. “We didn’t want to upset you. Today of all days.”

  “Lying to me is a pretty sure bet I’m going to be pissed off at you.”

  “Stephanie tracked us down on another job and wanted to know if we were still interested in her.”

  “And Jack said yes,” Paige said bitterly.

  “Jack never got closure with Stephanie. He always thought she would come back.”

  “And he was right.”

  Damn it. She was not going to cry. As soon as Dean stopped, she hopped out of the car and went straight to the kitchen.

  “She has a kid,” Dean said.

  And the hits just kept on coming.

  “So Caillie was right.” Paige put the milk in the fridge and refrained from slamming the door.

  “She was pregnant when she left us. But she’d also been with a few other guys while we were together. We agreed to do a paternity test.”

  Paige snorted. “Might want to do an STD test as well. So you guys weren’t exclusive?”

  Dean’s lips tightened. “I thought we were, but apparently Jack knew about the other guys and didn’t care. He thought I knew.”

  Paige felt the rage subside a little. “I’m sorry. That must have been a big shock for you.”

  “Not as much as Brendon, her two-year-old.”

  “I didn’t see him at the restaurant.”

  “He’s with his grandmother. Apparently, Stephanie had hoped that I’d marry her and the baby would have a father.”

  “What about the other guys?”

  “They were one-night stands. Guys she picked up at the tourist bars. She didn’t even know their names.”

  “Why didn’t she tell you she was pregnant before she left?”

  “Pride. She thought when I proposed to Jack, I’d made a choice that didn’t include her. She was afraid if the baby was one of ours, we’d feel obligated to have her in our lives, and she didn’t want that. And she was afraid if it turned out not to be ours, we’d be mad at her and reject her all over again.”

  Paige rubbed his arm in sympathy. “She didn’t trust you guys.”

  Dean closed his eyes. “It was all so fucked up. We were angry and hurt and we all made bad choices. If I could do things over again, knowing what I know now, maybe it would have gone down differently. If Brendon is Jack’s or mine, she kept him from us for two years. I don’t know if I can forgive her for that.”

  “She said she’s moving back here. If one of you guys is the father, you can see him every day and make up for lost time.” Paige folded her hands in front of her so they didn’t shake.

  “Would that be a problem for you?” He cocked his head at her.

  “Of course not. If he’s your son, you deserve a chance to be his father. That’s so much more important than my feelings.”

  “But that doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t important,” Dean said.

  “Why is Jack having lunch with her today, and why aren’t you there?”

  “I wanted to hang around in case you needed me. And Jack…” Dean sighed. “Brendon knocked him for a loop. He always wanted to have kids. We talked about adopting, but…” He shrugged. “It’s a lot of time and expense and heartache even when you’re not a gay couple. While I was pissed at Stephanie for keeping this secret from us, Jack was overjoyed. He really hopes Brendon is our son.”

  “So where does this leave me?”

  “Nothing has changed, Paige.”

  “Not yet. Aside from you lying to me.”

  “Can you honestly blame us for wanting to wait until after your parents left, or at least until after all of your guests arrived, to dump this on you?”

  Paige shook her head. It hurt. A lot. But she sort of understood. “I guess not. So I guess we’ll wait and see what the paternity tests say.”

  “Is this a deal breaker for you?”

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. “I don’t want to break up a family. She wants you back. If one of you is Brendon’s father, he’ll need his father around. Jack seems already on board with it.” She w
iped her eyes with her sleeve. “I can’t be the other woman. And I can’t be a foursome with the three of you.”

  Dean pulled her in for a hug. “Can we talk about this together with Jack? Can we wait until after your first week and maybe after your parents go home?”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’m going to go upstairs and rest until my parents get here.” She walked in the house and ran upstairs before anyone saw that she was crying.

  …

  Paige sat at her large dining room table and ate the chicken parmesan she’d made because it was her father’s favorite. She didn’t taste the homemade sauce or the freshly grated cheese. But that was all right; her father didn’t, either. He was on his laptop doing some Excel gymnastics to do projections of her first year in business.

  It reminded her of the dismal homework nights when he’d check her math during dinner.

  “More wine?” she asked her mother, who was on her second bottle.

  “No, dear, and you shouldn’t have any more, either.”

  Paige poured herself a bigger glass than she normally would and leaned back in her chair.

  Her mother frowned at her.

  “So, are you and Daddy going to help me check in people tomorrow?”

  “We thought we’d welcome them and give them some suggestions on places to visit.”

  “Ah,” Paige said after taking a large gulp. “You’re my concierge staff. I’ve got a folder for each room on all the local attractions.”

  “We have our own special places that we’d like to share with the guests.”

  That was fine with her. “What’s on the approved list?”

  “Well, there’s Caillie’s pottery shop, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Ester’s yarn shop, Douglas’s nautical museum.” Her mother ticked off places on her fingers. “Rick’s chocolate shop.”

  “Good choices. I think we can hand them the cards with the fishing and tour boats as well. Later on in the summer, I heard the Jeffersons will be offering parasailing.”

  Her mother shuddered. “Not for me.”

  Paige had to agree with her.

  “Everything looks in order,” her father grunted, and closed the laptop with a snap. He dug into his cold dinner with enthusiasm, waving her off when she offered to warm it up.

  “Don’t you get lonely in this big old house by yourself?” her mother asked, taking their plate into the kitchen.

  Paige followed her. “No, I love it here. I’ve got my friends to keep me company, and I’ve been keeping busy.”

  “Have you talked to Fred lately?”

  “No. He keeps sending me emails, though. I can’t be bothered to respond.”

  Her mother tsked. “Don’t burn any bridges. He’s very well connected. You could go far with any recommendations he sends your way.”

  “I’m not going to be beholden to him.” Paige crossed her arms and leaned a hip on her kitchen counter. Her mother washed their dishes by hand instead of stacking them into the dishwasher.

  “I think you’re taking a lot on yourself. You should hire a cook.”

  “Maybe next year. I want to settle my debts first.”

  Her mother gave her an arch look. “You don’t have to rush to pay us off.”

  Yeah, I do. “I want to make sure I’m self-sufficient.”

  “You will be. As long as you stay away from scandal.”

  Paige rolled her eyes so hard she nearly knocked herself out. “I was waiting for this conversation. So what’s the latest gossip that Caillie has poured in your ears?”

  “She says those men you’ve hired to work on your house have an illegitimate son.”

  “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but the paternity tests haven’t come back yet. Besides, it’s not illegal to have a child out of wedlock. Nor is it illegal to date two men at the same time.”

  “It is if they’re married,” her mother hissed.

  “No, it’s not.” Paige drained her wine in three large swallows.

  “It’s not right. The three of you doing such things. They’re married and you’re a divorcée.”

  “I don’t care what people think.”

  “It’s one thing if it’s done discreetly, but with the entire town talking about it, your guests are bound to feel uncomfortable.”

  “If the store owners are making tourists uncomfortable, that hurts all of us. They should keep their mouths shut and mind their own business.” The wine was making Paige a little more loud and blunt than she usually was.

  “Obviously this is your life and you’re going to do what you want anyway, but I don’t want it to affect the inn.”

  “It won’t. And if I think it is, I’ll get a lawyer and sue for defamation of character. Maybe even discrimination, depending on what people said.”

  Her mother almost dropped the dish she was drying. “You can’t do that. These people are our friends.”

  “Not if they’re talking shit about me, they’re not.”

  “You won’t win.”

  Paige shrugged. “Don’t have to. I just have to have it on record that I took their business to court for discrimination. How do you think that will affect their bottom line, if they have to pay all the legal fees just because they like to gossip? You tell your friends to keep their noses out of my personal life.”

  “People are only trying to help you.”

  “No, Mom. People are trying to control and manipulate me. Been there. Done that. Got the divorce papers to prove it.”

  Her mother literally threw in the towel as her dishrag hit Paige in the chest. “There’s no talking to you. I can see why Fred had an affair.”

  If Paige hadn’t had the wine, she might have stopped herself, but her mouth opened and it came out before she realized what she was going to say. “I can see why Dad had his.”

  Her mother reacted like she had slapped her and burst into tears.

  “What the hell is going on?” her father said.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Paige put a hand on her shoulder, but her mother shrugged it off and ran out of the house.

  “What the hell was that all about?” her father asked again.

  Paige drained her wine. What the hell? “Why did you cheat on Mom?”

  Her father blustered and turned red. “Where is this coming from?”

  “Mom told me that I should have stayed married to Fred, because she stayed married to you. Men cheat. Was she right, Dad?” Paige strode up to him and poked him in the chest. “Should I have let Fred break our marriage vows while I kept them? Should I have just looked the other way, like she did?”

  “This is none of your business.”

  “If you want to get into my personal life, I’m going to get into yours. I’ll get into the whole town’s ugly little secrets, if I have to. But I want to know. Do you think I should have stayed with Fred after he humiliated me?”

  Her father looked away. “No. No man wants his daughter to be treated like that.”

  “Then why did you treat Grandpa’s daughter like that?”

  Her father tossed his laptop into his bag. “You’re an ugly drunk, Paige. Lay off the wine.”

  “Lay off the floozies.” She waved at him.

  “I am still your father. You remember that when you speak to me.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you. You and Mom stay out of my sex life, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  He shook his head. “That must have been a hell of a conversation in the kitchen. Don’t forget, you could lose the inn if you don’t toe the line with us.”

  Paige didn’t have a wine-fueled come back for that one.

  Chapter Twelve

  Opening day was busy. Paige’s head throbbed with a pounding wine hangover and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Her parents came around noon and hung out in the front room to greet the guests and pass out the island information packets Paige had gathered from the local businesses. Her father hit it off with another man his
age, and they were making plans to go golfing tomorrow. Her mother pretended as if nothing had happened and had cut her off when she tried to apologize for being such a bitch last night.

  “I don’t want to discuss it any further,” her mother had said, and while things were still a little frosty, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.

  Things only got a little hairy when two guests arrived at once and the elevator jammed. Jack and Dean walked in the door five minutes after she called them. She didn’t want to think about where they had spent last night—it was probably in Stephanie’s bed, and she should just get used to it. She avoided Jack’s eyes but was grateful when he ran the luggage upstairs himself while Dean fixed the elevator. She set out pitchers of iced tea and carafes of coffee in the front room and was just taking out a tray of cookies from the oven when he came into the kitchen.

  “Hot stuff coming through,” he said, and grinned at her.

  She gave him a small smile and turned her back on him while she used a spatula to put the hot cookies on the cooling rack.

  “Dean said you were a little upset yesterday.”

  “Not now, Jack. My parents are here and I’ve got an inn full of guests.”

  He came up behind her and whispered in her ear. “I just want to tell you, I love you.” He kissed her on the cheek and then walked away.

  She closed her eyes and almost burned herself on the cookie tray when the heat seeped through the mitt she was wearing. Leave it to Jack to drop a bombshell like that and then leave. Paige hid in the kitchen until the cookies were cool enough to handle. After plating them up, she took them into the front room and checked on the cream and soymilk she had set out with the coffee. As he passed by, wiping his hands on a rag, Dean winked at her.

  She followed him outside to the porch, where Jack was telling one of her guests about the sunrise yoga on the beach. That sounded nice on paper, but really the only thing Paige wanted to do at dawn on the beach was sleep.

  “Thanks for coming when I called,” she said to Dean.

  “Always,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

  She walked down the path with him. “Great. It’s been great.”

  “Really?”

  Paige shook her head. “It’s been pretty stressful.”