Vicki's Gift: Rose Island Book 4 Read online

  “Seth,” a voice above me called. “Wake up.”

  I opened my eyes to see Vicki standing beside my bed, her brow furrowed. King’s whining had stopped, so I figured she must’ve let him out.

  “What time is it?” I shielded my eyes from the blinding sunlight streaming through the crack in the blinds.

  “A little after six. How long have you been sleeping?”

  I yawned and sat up as the room spun. My mouth was dry, and my head pounded. “Six in the morning?”

  “No. Six in the evening. You haven’t been sleeping all day, have you?”

  “I guess so.”

  She let out a slow breath. “I brought you dinner. Maybe you could take a shower and . . .” She glanced around the trailer, obviously disgusted by the mess. I didn’t blame her. I was disgusted as well. I hadn’t washed my dishes in days, and there was a funky smell coming from the bathroom.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” I said, not wanting her to see me or my place like this.

  “Why don’t you let me clean your kitchen while you take a shower, then we can go for a walk.”

  “No.” My words came out sharper than intended, but I didn’t need Vicki cleaning up my mess right now. I didn’t need her mothering me. I needed her to back off and give me room to breathe.

  “I’ll wait for you outside then.” She sounded wounded, and I hated myself for doing that to her, but I didn’t apologize. In fact, I didn’t say anything as she navigated her way out of my bedroom through the maze of trash, dirty clothes, pizza boxes, and beer bottles.

  I needed to stop drinking and smoking. I needed to straighten out my life and figure out what to do. But all that seemed impossible right now.

  The lump in my dry throat throbbed. I took a swig of the warm beer on my nightstand. What was I supposed to do with my life? How was I supposed to turn things around when I didn’t even want to get out of bed?

  I squeezed my eyes tight as my throat and nose clogged. The only thing that’d gotten me through my parents’ death was my brother. He’d been just a little kid, and I knew I had to take care of him. Now that he was gone, what reason did I have for doing anything?

  Help me, God. Please. Just help me.

  My legs wobbling, I stumbled to the shower. After washing my hair, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed, I swallowed three Advil and went outside.

  Vicki sat at the picnic table, talking to King as she rubbed his head. When she saw me, her concerned and injured expression ripped right through me. I couldn’t take her pity, and I definitely couldn’t take the fact that I’d become a big disappointment to her.

  On the table sat an aluminum wrapped plate that must’ve contained the dinner she’d brought me. She uncovered it, and despite my earlier queasiness, the food looked good—lasagna with the cheese melted just right, buttered French bread, and a spinach salad. She’d also brought me a cold bottle of water.

  I took a seat across from her and ate my meal in silence. When I finished, I drained the water and pushed the plate away. “That was good.”

  She nodded. “There’s a slice of Mississippi mud pie in your refrigerator for later. I put it on top of the six-pack.”

  “Okay.” I could tell she didn’t approve of the beer in the refrigerator, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of addressing it. Instead, I gazed out across the field. Most of the wildflowers had died off, and the grass had turned brown.

  “So, you’re smoking pot now?” she said, her disdain obvious.

  “What?”

  She gave me a look of disgust. “I saw the joint on your nightstand.”

  “Oh. It helps me sleep. I don’t smoke all the time, just . . .” I stopped myself from saying just once a day. I knew how that sounded. Plus, it wasn’t true. I easily smoked two to three times that much.

  “Are you addicted?”

  I scoffed at her question, and she glared at me. “Pot’s not addictive. People don’t get addicted to it. It just helps me feel better.”

  She gestured toward the paintball equipment strewn across the yard and the mess inside the trailer. “This is what feeling better looks like to you? I’ve never seen your place look like this. It reeks, and you look horrible. We spent so much time organizing the paintball equipment, and now it’s all over the place. You haven’t been returning my phone calls and—”

  “My brother died.”

  “I know, but you can’t use that as an excuse to just give up. You can’t just smoke and drink yourself to death.”

  “I’m not.”

  The way she practically rolled her eyes caused a surge of anger to shoot through me. How dare she judge me like this. She had no idea what I was dealing with. Her perfect life had never been affected by anything more tragic than a broken fingernail or a flat tire.

  A beat of angry silence passed between us. As though sensing the tension, King came to me and pressed his body against my leg. I felt so disgusted with myself I couldn’t look at him.

  “Seth, I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to see you like this. I know you’re hurting. I can’t even imagine how badly you’re hurting.”

  “No, you can’t. You have no idea how this feels.”

  She opened and closed her mouth as though she wanted to say something but changed her mind. After a while, she did finally speak. “I can’t change what happened, but I want to help. Why don’t you let me help you put everything back in order? Maybe once you clean up things you’ll feel better and will be able to make some decisions.”

  “Make some decisions?”

  “About your life. About what you’re going to do with the business.”

  My anger boiled over. “What do you mean make some decisions about what I’m going to do with the business?”

  She shifted and set her folded hands on the picnic table. “One of the reasons you started the paintball business was because of your brother. Have you thought about doing something different like going back to school? It might help you get out of your funk.”

  “My funk?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You know what I mean.”

  “My mom, my dad, and my brother died, Vicki. I’m probably going to be in this funk for a long time.”

  She gave a condescending sigh. “I know it’s going to take a while to heal, but all this drinking and smoking and moping around isn’t going to help. You’re depressed, and that’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot, but you don’t have to live like this. You can make something of your life. You can move on and eventually learn to be happy.”

  I stood, my whole body trembling with frustration. There’d been a time when I thought I could talk to her. But now . . . now there was no way I could confide in her.

  “This isn’t working,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and me.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. We were never going to last. We’re too different. We want different things. Now that Robbie’s gone . . .” I shook my head, determined to end things between us as quickly as possible. The sooner she left, the sooner I could breathe. “It’s time for you to leave, Vicki.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do.” I fought back the urge to take her in my arms and beg her forgiveness, but I was stopped by pride, anger, and something I couldn’t identify. Hopelessness? Despair?

  Slowly, she came to her feet. “I love you, Seth. I do. I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and gave a curt nod. Then, I turned and walked away, not wanting to see her climb into her car and leave me.

  PART 2

  Four years later

  Chapter 13

  Vicki

  Four years after walking away from Seth, I could honestly say that life was great. Better than great. It was fantastic actually.

  While I regretted how things ended between us, ultimately, it was for the best. Seth and I
had been too young and too different to make things last.

  I owned the bakery now, something I absolutely loved. While it’d been challenging at first, I had no regrets and had never been happier.

  Mrs. Delacroix had gotten her fairy-tale ending. After flying to Italy, she married Lorenzo in a private ceremony surrounded by family.

  Every time I talked to her on the phone, she seemed blissful. Her sister, who’d opposed the union at first, had journeyed across the Atlantic for the wedding. Then, in a twist of fate that showed truth was stranger than fiction, Mrs. Delacroix’s widowed sister fell in love with Lorenzo’s widowed brother. Seeing no reason to delay the inevitable, the two had married the following month.

  “So there’s no need to panic if Mr. Right doesn’t come along,” Mrs. Delacroix told me over the phone. “It’s never too late for love, Vicki. Never. God is such a show-off. Don’t forget that.”

  As for the rest of my family, everyone was doing well. Both my sisters were back on the island. Jillian worked as a nurse, and Bianca owned the hair salon next door to me called The Last Tangle. She and I lived in the apartments above our respective businesses and joked about being quasi-roommates.

  Baby Travis was now a healthy, adorable three-almost-four-year-old who did not like being called a baby. He was always saying the cutest things that cracked us up. My mom frequently asked when Marcus and Anna were going to give her another grandchild. They’d respond by laughing and telling her to be patient.

  And Seth . . . well, I hadn’t seen Seth since that horrible day we broke up. Through my brother, I learned that he moved to Temple, Texas, with his grandmother. Seth’s aunt lived there. Eventually, Seth attended the fire academy at A&M. After graduating, he’d been hired by the city of Harker Heights fire department and was doing well there.

  Although I knew our breakup had been inevitable, every spring a sense of longing overtook me as I remembered our short time together. To get over it, I’d force myself to go out with some guy I met through one of the online dating sites. I’d laugh and pretend to have fun, but the emptiness inside me persisted as I couldn’t help but compare every guy to Seth.

  During one of those melancholy days, I found myself driving out to the west end of the island. As I passed the yacht club and came to the place where the paved road ended, I questioned my sanity. What exactly did I expect to find out here? Seth? I didn’t even know if he still owned the property.

  As I drove down the bumpy road, I thought about the first time Seth brought me out to his place. He’d been so excited to show me the property and paintball courses. He’d made quiche for dinner and had kissed me in the barn.

  Since then, he’d thrived without me. Obviously, I’d been a hindrance to his healing and his success. Was there something I could’ve done differently? Had I been too pushy? Had I left him too easily?

  As the trees lining Seth’s driveway came into view, I smiled. That graduate student from the county extension office had been right. The evergreens Seth planted had flourished in the Rose Island sun and salty sea air.

  Seeing the rest of the property, however, filled me with incredible sadness. Everything—the Airstream, the paintball courses, the tires, junk cars, and spools—was gone. It was like none of it had ever existed. The barn still stood, but it looked old and abandoned, as if it might topple over any minute.

  My heart broke. Oh, Seth. I’m so sorry. Wherever you are, I hope you find peace. I hope you find joy, and I hope you find love.

  Tears burning my eyes, I drove away, only then noticing the sold sign near the road.

  Seth had sold his beloved property. I pressed a hand to my chest, physically feeling the heavy pain in my heart. My short time with Seth had been powerful, but it was over. He’d obviously moved on.

  It was time for me to do the same.

  *

  About a month after my visit to Seth’s property, we received news that both Marcus and Keith were deploying with the army. Keith had deployed several times, so Jillian knew what to expect, but this was my brother’s first overseas mission, and it scared us.

  While marriage and fatherhood had matured Marcus, he was still the baby of our family. In my opinion, he still seemed way too young to be responsible for a wife and a child, let alone the security of our nation.

  Shortly before the deployment, my mother insisted we help her sort the numerous boxes of family photos she’d collected over the years. To get us started, she signed us all up for a scrapbooking event offered at our church.

  I’d never scrapbooked before, so I had no idea what to expect. To my surprise, working at the folding tables in the community room with Anna, my mom, my sisters, and several other women turned out to be a lot of fun. In fact, I think everyone but my mom enjoyed the evening. Unfortunately, all the old photos made her sentimental and weepy.

  Of course, it didn’t help when Jillian began giving Anna advice about the upcoming deployment. “I know you’re worried about Marcus leaving,” Jillian said in her oldest-sister-knows-best voice, “but this is a short mission. Once they leave, they’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I hope so.” Anna’s voice held an ocean of uncertainty. I didn’t blame her. Sending Marcus into battle was terrifying.

  “Waiting for them to go is one of the hardest parts.” Jillian spread photo-safe glue on the back of a wedding photo and carefully placed it on her page. “Right now, tensions are high and there’s just a lot to take care of. Plus, you’re trying to spend all this quality family time, and nothing ruins quality family time like feeling forced to do it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Anna said, smiling. “We took Travis mini-golfing, thinking it’d be fun, but it was an absolute disaster. Marcus and I ended up fighting, and Travis broke down, crying over some ridiculous stuffed animal he didn’t win.”

  Jillian nodded. “That sounds very normal. Trust me. Once Marcus leaves, it’ll be better. The first deployment is the hardest. By the time he has to do this again, you’ll be a pro.”

  Anna’s face paled, but it was my mother who spoke. “Excuse me, girls.” Slowly, she came to her feet, looking as if she’d aged a hundred years. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to call it a night and go home to your father.”

  “Luella,” Anna said. “Please don’t leave.”

  My mother shook her head. “No, I’ll let you girls do this. I need to go.”

  “Mom,” Jillian protested.

  My mother lifted a defiant hand. “No, it’s fine. I’m proud of you for being able to handle everything so calmly, but sending a child into harm’s way is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. So please, just let me go home.”

  Jillian’s eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Shouldering her purse, my mom left us sitting there, stunned. I glanced at Jillian, who shook her head. “I honestly didn’t mean to ruin the night. I was just trying to help.”

  “You helped me,” Anna said sweetly. “Watching Marcus prepare to leave . . . watching him be excited about preparing for war has been gut-wrenching. Hearing you say that some of the things we’re experiencing are normal is really helpful.”

  Jillian sighed. “Well, at least I could help somebody.”

  *

  A few days later, Keith and Jillian hosted a barbecue at their adorable craftsman-style home on Blackberry Lane. The house and backyard were packed with friends, family, soldiers, dependents, and tons of kids.

  My parents had offered to host the event at the family ranch, but Jillian and Keith declined. I imagined they wanted to build happy memories in their own place before Keith left.

  Because my bakery was in charge of the desserts, I found myself scrounging through Jillian’s refrigerator, looking for the extra strawberry sauce I knew I’d brought. After much searching, I finally found it behind a case of Dr. Pepper.

  “Hey, Vicki.” The voice behind me was familiar.

  Seth.

  Heart in my throat, I turned to face him. Stan
ding just a few feet away, he looked even more handsome than I remembered. His shoulders had broadened, and his jaw had become more chiseled.

  “Hi.” My own voice squeaked.

  Seth offered a relaxed grin as though seeing me had absolutely no effect on him whatsoever. I suppose he had the advantage of knowing I’d be here while I was completely caught off guard by his presence.

  I set the strawberry sauce on the counter. “How’ve you been?” I debated whether I should hug him hello or just play it cool by keeping my distance. I decided on the latter and kept my arms glued to my sides.

  He grinned. “I’ve been good. Really good.”

  You look good, I thought but didn’t dare say. “I heard you’re working in Harker Heights as a firefighter.”

  “I am.” His dimples deepened with his smile. “As it turns out, you were right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “About going to school. That’s exactly what I needed to do. The fire academy allowed me to move forward by jolting me out of my funk.”

  My face warmed with shame. “Seth, that was a horrible thing for me to say. I’m so sorry—”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Vicki. Everything worked out like it was supposed to.”

  Did it?

  A beat of silence passed between us, then Seth said, “I drove by the bakery on my way into town. The name change and outdoor seating look good.”

  “Thanks.” I took the plastic wrap off the strawberry sauce and stirred it with a spoon.

  Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the counter behind him and studied me carefully. “Rumor has it you serve the best cappuccino on the island.”

  I laughed. “I do. Improving our coffee game was one of the first things I did when I took over the bakery. You’ll have to come in and get a cup. On the house, of course.”

  “Oh, well, thank you.” He glanced over his shoulder as if looking for someone. “I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be here, but I wanted to wish Marcus good luck.”