Evening Stars

She’d smiled and thanked him, then had playfully asked, Are you going to hit on me now?

He’d shaken his head. No, but I will tell you that you shouldn’t use autofocus in this setting. It’s letting in too much light, and you’ll lose contrast in the scene.

An unusual response. She’d studied him more closely, taking in the gold flecks in his brown eyes and shape of his mouth. He’d lacked the deep tan of a surfer—no surprise there. Engineer, she thought. Or computer science major.

You do like girls, right? she’d asked.

He’d smiled at her, then. A slow, sexy smile that had made her toes curl in her Keds and caused the noise around them to fade into the background.

I’ll take the pictures, he’d said, reaching for the camera. You make your notes.

I’m writing an article for The Daily Bruin. She paused. That’s the paper at UCLA.

I know what it is.

You’re out of college?

Yup. Just got a job at a software company here in Mischief Bay. He’d slipped the strap around his neck and started making adjustments on the camera. I went to MIT.

Smart, great smile and he had a job. Things were looking up. I’m Averil, she’d said.

Kevin.

He hadn’t hit on her, but he had asked her out. It had been three dates before he’d kissed her and nearly four months before they’d had sex. The day after she’d graduated, he’d proposed. She’d said yes to him and a full-time job at California Girl magazine.

“About the pills,” she said, stepping into his office.

“You said you were ready. You said you wanted to have kids. Have you changed your mind?”

“No. It’s just...” She took a step forward. “There’s a lot going on.”

“What’s going on now that isn’t going on all the time? We’re settled in the house, we have money in the bank. You have your job and your novel. What are you waiting for?”

She wished he hadn’t mentioned the novel. The one she was supposed to be writing. The one that was little more than a few notes and a hundred and forty-seven false starts. Saying you were going to write a novel was easy. Actually writing it—not so much.

“I’m feeling pressured,” she said, hearing the defensiveness in her voice and not liking it. “It’s so soon.”

“Our fifth anniversary is in a few months. It wasn’t exactly a shotgun wedding.”

“No, but...”

He looked at her then, his brown eyes filled with what could only be betrayal. He looked as if she’d cut out his heart.

“Kevin, no,” she breathed as she started toward him. “I’m—”

He waited. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nina told you to wait, didn’t she?”

Averil had to hold back the overpowering need to stomp her foot. “You always bring up Nina. Why do you hate my sister?”

“You know I like Nina a lot. I bring her up because she’s always with us.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s a thousand miles away.”

“No, she’s not. She’s the voice in your head. You talk to her every day for weeks until you two have a fight, and then you complain about her every day until you two make up. She’s the opinion you care about most.” He returned his attention to his computer screen. “It’s never you and me making a decision. It’s always the three of us.”

She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but he wasn’t. Her and Nina’s last blowup had been about three weeks before, and they hadn’t spoken since. Funny—Averil couldn’t even remember what they’d been fighting about.

She looked at Kevin. She could feel his pain. He wanted more, and as much as she wanted to give it to him, she couldn’t. The problem with Kevin was that he saw her as more capable than she could ever be. But how was she supposed to tell the man in her life to expect less of her?

“I need more time,” she told him. “Please, stop pressuring me.”

She waited, expecting him to say that asking her to keep her word wasn’t exactly applying brute force, but he only nodded.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He looked at her then. “Sometimes I’m not so sure.”

* * *

The next morning, Nina woke without the alarm. One of the perks of a Saturday morning. She’d had a restless night. While she’d avoided the brownies calling her name, she’d given in to the wine. Worse, she’d dreamed of Dylan on and off. Probably the result of seeing him and then watching The Day After Tomorrow.

She would guess that most women remembering a breakup went for a more classic romantic comedy or a movie that would make them cry. She would have, as well, but it was right after seeing The Day After Tomorrow that Dylan had broken up with her. She’d been making a point on global warming, and he’d announced he wasn’t going to be coming back to the island on weekends anymore.

Now the shots of ice and snow were firmly linked in her brain with the pain of losing the only man she’d ever loved. In her pathos, she’d noticed that the sheer size of the storm had matched the vastness of the emptiness filling her heart. Dylan had filled so much of her world, and now he was going to be gone.

All this time later, he was back. Not that it was going to be an issue for her, she told herself as she sat up and stretched. It wasn’t as if he’d sought her out. Their meeting had been completely random. Even on an island this small, she was unlikely to run into him very much.

For the best, she thought, standing by the bed. She would simply—

“Crap. My car!”

She’d never called Mike about it. Never asked him to tow it to his shop and start work on it. All because she’d been distracted by a handsome man from her past. Dylan had a lot to answer for.

She glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly eight-thirty. Which meant Mike’s repair shop had been open for an hour. Saturdays were busy for him, and she was pretty sure someone else would have gotten the beat-up truck that was his loaner car.

She walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Mike’s business card was one of a dozen held to the refrigerator by a tacky magnet designed for the tourist trade. No surprise to anyone, Nina’s mother collected them.

Mike answered on the third ring. “What?”

“It’s Nina Wentworth.”

“Hey, listen, I’m good but I’m not that good. I’ll get to it later today. I’m guessing the fuel injector, but I mean it. That’s a guess.”

Nina blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

“Your car. That’s why you’re calling, right? You’re not going to try to sell me any damn magazine subscriptions, are you?”

“What? No.” She walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. “My car is there?”

“Sure. I got a call yesterday just before closing to go pick it up. I had Benny drop off the loaner last night. You telling me you don’t know about this?”

She stood and walked into the living room. As she looked out the front window, she saw a battered pickup in the driveway.

Dylan, she thought, unable to believe he would have bothered. But there wasn’t another explanation.

“I, ah... Thanks, Mike,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you. Let me know when it’s ready and I’ll be in.”

“Sure thing. Probably Monday. You can come on your lunch break.”

“Sounds great.”

She hung up, more than a little confused by what had happened. She checked the window again. Yup, there it was. The loaner.

She put down the phone and walked into her bedroom. She had a mile-long list of things to get done today, and none of them had involved mulling over an old boyfriend. Dylan had been nice. That spoke well of his character. The fact that she didn’t want him to be nice was her own issue.

* * *

By nine-thirty, Nina had arrived at Blackberry Preserves. As it was a Saturday, she changed the sign to read Open—not that she was expecting many customers. It was too early in the season for a lot of tourists, and locals tended not to browse on the weekends. She flipped on the light switch by the door, then walked through narrow pathways to the office in the back. After tucking her purse into a desk drawer, she turned up the heat and started a pot of coffee.

In theory, the shop’s inventory was supposed to be computerized. In reality, more than half the stock moved in and out without ever being accounted for. Bonnie’s buying trips were done with cash and accounted for with mostly handwritten receipts. Nina had known that one day she was going to have to tackle the problem, but she’d been putting it off as long as possible. And that was going to continue, she thought, returning to the front of the store.

To the left, old wooden shelves held an impressive collection of vintage lunch boxes. Everything from Hopalong Cassidy to early Batman to My Little Pony. Some were battered and worn, but others looked as if they’d never been used at all. A couple still contained their thermoses.

Bonnie loved lunch boxes because children were generally happy. That was her actual logic. She bought the lunch boxes to share her joy in that fact with others. The knowledge that they collected more than they sold didn’t seem to bother her.

Three large display cabinets held figurines of all kinds. Lladro and Hummel, along with those from more obscure artists. Even as a kid, Nina hadn’t liked the tiny statues. She’d always thought they were watching her with evil intent. The same with the antique dolls. But the vintage clothes were fun. They were dusty and smelled funny, but she and Averil had enjoyed playing dress-up.

She walked to a rack of ball gowns from the 1940s. She’d loved dancing around, a rusty tiara on her head.

You be the queen and I’ll be the princess, Averil had told her.

Nina had resisted, saying there could be two princesses. Even at nine, she’d understood that being the queen meant taking responsibility. All she wanted was to escape for a few minutes. But Averil had been stubborn.

You’re my queen, Neenie. You’ll always be the queen.

She touched another dress, remembering her sister claiming she could tell whether or not the wearer had been happy simply by the scent of the fabric. As everything smelled dusty to Nina, she couldn’t decide if her sister had been telling the truth. But Averil would only wear castoffs from happy people and carefully inspected all new inventory.

Nina supposed that everyone had strange memories from his or her childhood. Hers were about pockets of chaos followed by blissful periods of calm. Bonnie had been big on love, but not so much on structure. If there was no one to watch the girls, she thought nothing of taking them out of school for weeks at a time when she went on her buying trips.

When Nina turned twelve, she informed her mom that she was old enough to be left alone. She’d been armed with a list of reasons why she should be trusted by herself, but Bonnie had simply agreed with her. The following year, Bonnie had deposited Averil in her care, as well. She’d made sure the house was stocked with food before she headed off. There was money in the drawer and the checkbook. Nina had been faking her mom’s signature on checks for years, so paying the bills wasn’t a problem.

Nina paused by a desk lamp that Bonnie swore was genuine Tiffany and touched the smooth, colored glass. Memories lurked in this store, she thought. Hiding in corners like dust bunnies. As she couldn’t figure out how to get rid of them, she avoided them and this place. Which probably explained why Tanya had stolen. There was no one watching her.

The front door opened. Nina tensed, wondering if Dylan would be stopping by. She’d phoned to thank him for his help, but her call had gone directly to voice mail. She still wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.

But he wasn’t the one who walked in. Instead, it was a well-dressed woman with short, dark hair. She was about five-five, with dark blue eyes and a wide smile.

“Are you Nina?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Great. I’m Cindy Yoo. I’m here about the job. I saw it online last night, and I’m very interested.”

In reality, shutting down the store made the most sense. Unfortunately, that wasn’t Nina’s decision to make. She didn’t feel prepared for an interview, but they had to hire someone.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said. “There are application forms in the back.”

Cindy withdrew a folder from her large leather bag. “I brought a copy of my resume, along with several letters of recommendation.”

Nina took the papers. “That’s very professional of you,” she said slowly. As far as she knew, no applicant had ever come in with a resume before.

“I’ve got coffee going in the back,” she said, motioning to the open doorway. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

Cindy followed her into the office. Nina cleared a stack of invoices off the spare chair, then poured them each a cup.

“Black is fine,” Cindy told her, then reached for the mug.

Nina poured her own and settled behind the desk. “I didn’t know the ad had gone up already.”

“I was online checking when it popped up.” Cindy smiled at her. “I’ll just say it. I don’t have retail experience, but I’m open to learning.”

“It’s not a complicated business,” Nina murmured, studying the other woman. She didn’t know all that much about fashion, but she would guess Cindy’s clothes were expensive. Her bag seemed to be real leather, and her wedding band was a row of sparkling diamonds.

Cindy pointed to the folder. “I can get more recommendations if you need them. I’m very excited about this opportunity.”

Maybe a little too excited? Nina opened the folder and studied her resume.

Cindy had graduated with a degree in history from a university in the San Francisco area. From there she’d become a secretary in a law firm. Four years later, she had been a paralegal in the same firm. That had been followed by a move to Seattle, where she’d done more of the same.

Behind the resume were a half dozen letters of recommendation. All glowing. Each had a phone number and a vow that he or she would hire Cindy back in a second if she was interested.

“Impressive,” Nina said, then looked at her. “I’m looking for someone to run the store. It involves managing inventory and selling to customers. I can’t help but think you’re overqualified.”

Cindy clutched her mug in both hands. “To be completely honest, I really need this job. My husband is a few years older than me. I’m his second wife. Our children just left for college. One is at MIT, the other is at Stanford.”

So it was a money thing, Nina thought, able to relate to that.

“My husband is Korean. My mother-in-law, while a lovely woman, has a very traditional interest in the life of her only son. Apparently his first wife was also traditional. Perfect, according to my mother-in-law, chosen by the family. She died and he fell in love with me.” Cindy paused. “Have you heard about the Tiger Moms?”

Nina frowned. “I think I read a couple of articles. They’re focused on their children succeeding.”

“Multiply that by a thousand and you’ll understand what I’m dealing with. I’m never good enough, and while she doesn’t come out and say it, I’m certain her daily prayers include me being dead.” Cindy flashed a smile. “Or at the very least, having her son come to his senses and kick me out.”

“That could be uncomfortable.”

“Yes, it is, and she’s coming to live with us.” Cindy swallowed. “This week. He’s helping her pack right now. I want to be nice to her. But to keep myself sane, I need a job. A place where I can go and think about something else. A place to pour my energy. I swear, I’m highly motivated to learn everything I need to know.”

Nina felt her concerns melting away. “You don’t have a criminal record, do you?”

Cindy’s eyes widened. “I assume that’s not a prerequisite?”

“No. Our last employee stole from us. We wouldn’t have known except she went to a local pawn shop to fence our property.”

“The pawn shop on the island?”

“That’s the one.”

Cindy leaned back in her chair. “Seriously, that’s just dumb. But lucky for you. As to the question, no. I’ve had two speeding tickets and that’s it. I’m a good person. Ask anyone.”

Nina grinned. “Except your mother-in-law.”

“Right.”

Nina handed Cindy the application. “I’m going to check inventory while you fill this out.”

She left Cindy in the office. She would ask Sam at the sheriff’s office to run a background check on Cindy, then call a couple of references. If that worked out, she was going to hire the woman and consider herself lucky to have found her.

Chapter Four

AVERIL HAD GROWN UP in the Pacific Northwest where the ocean temperature rarely climbed past sixty and that was in the summer. California wasn’t all that different. Right on the beach the water warmed up a little in July and August, but only a few hundred yards from shore, the ocean floor plunged and the water was chilly. She’d visited a friend in Florida over a summer break from college and had been shocked by the shallow, warm gulf lapping at the sand. Somehow it just seemed wrong.

Now, as the wind picked up, she tightened the sail, then secured the line. The sun was high in the sky, the brilliant blue reflected in the endless ocean. Once they were on course again, she glanced at Kevin. His sunglasses hid his eyes, and if she couldn’t see them, she didn’t know what he was thinking.

He’d been quiet lately. If it were anyone but him, she would say pensive.

“Kevin,” she began. “Are you mad at me?”

He turned to her, his sunglasses hiding the direct line of his vision. “No. Not mad.”

“Then what?”

“Disappointed.”

The word was like a slap. She’d always been the object of desire in their relationship. The one who was chased and caught. She loved her husband and did her best to be good to him, but he was the one who came to her. Now she felt the foundation of her world shifting under her.

“About the baby?” she asked, her voice small.

“Some.”

The wind whipped her hair around her face. She’d pulled it back in a braid, but a few strands had worked loose. She pushed them out of her eyes and stared at him.

“Are you disappointed in me?”

“Yes.”

She felt the air rush out of her lungs—as if she’d been kicked in the gut. Panic seized her, making her want to say whatever was necessary for him to take the words back. She couldn’t stand for him to reject her.

“I know you’re not happy,” he continued. “I wonder if I’m the reason.”

Relief made it easier to breathe. This wasn’t her fault. Okay, she could deal. “You’re not,” she assured him. “I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

“Do you still love me?”

“Of course. Don’t be silly. We’re married.”

“What does being married have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. It just does. We’re together.”

He looked away, then, and the panic returned. This time joined by fear.

“I don’t know what you want,” he admitted.

“I don’t, either. It’s not about you, it’s about me being uncomfortable and...” She paused as the truth settled over her. A truth she’d been avoiding for a long time now.

“I want to go home.”

She said the words without thinking about how they would sound. How he would read them. His expression didn’t change, but his hand reached for the line, and seconds later the jib collapsed. He pulled in the large sail, keeping it from sinking into the ocean.

“Kevin, no,” she said, grabbing his free arm. “Don’t do this. I didn’t mean right this second.”

Because by “home” she’d meant Blackberry Island. They’d both understood that.

He secured the sail, then turned to her. “It’s always been home. I’ve known that. You need to see Nina. What I don’t get is you two can’t be in the same house for more than a day without fighting. It happens whether she comes to see us or you go to see her. Yet, you can’t seem to make a decision without her. Why?”

She didn’t have an answer. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, only he wasn’t. Nina was... She swallowed. He was right. Nina was the voice in her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not about an apology. I’ve given you all I have, Averil. All I am. If it’s not enough, I’ve got nothing left. Maybe I’m not supposed to make you happy. Maybe you’re supposed to figure that out on your own.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t know how. Didn’t understand what being happy meant. Contentment was relatively easy, but happy? Who could say that?

“I don’t want you mad at me,” she murmured.

“I’m not. I’ve loved you from the first day I met you, but I can’t live in this half life any longer. I need you to be in this with me, or I need you to leave.”

The fear returned, but she held on to it, enduring the sense of having her heart ripped into pieces.

“Go see your sister,” he continued. “Figure out what you want. I’ll wait.”

“For how long?”

He removed his sunglasses then. She gazed into his eyes, seeing a combination of sadness and determination. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I’m done wanting you to come home.”

Which was fair, but terrifying. What if she waited too long? What if...

And with the questions came the realization that she’d already made up her mind. That whatever the price, she needed to go back home, to find answers. She felt as if everyone else had grown up and moved on, while she’d been stuck.

“I’ll be back,” she promised. “Please, don’t give up on me.”

* * *

Nina confirmed the charts had been pulled for that day’s appointments while she waited for the coffee to fill her cup. She’d had a restless night, no doubt brought on by the phone call from her sister. Averil was coming home for a visit. By herself.

Nina placed the files back on the shelf, then walked toward the break room. Kevin was such a great guy. She could only hope her sister wasn’t being an idiot over something inconsequential. Averil could be flighty—a characteristic she had inherited from their mother. Or maybe their father, who had walked away shortly after Averil had been born.

At the time, Nina had been too young to know much more than he was gone. Later, she’d blamed her mother for driving him away. Now, as an adult, she wondered if he had somehow sensed that in her heart, Bonnie preferred to play for the other team. Not that the news excused him for abandoning his daughters.

“Wow—where did all that come from?” she asked aloud. Obviously she’d been spending too much time on her own, she thought, shaking her head.

She poured a cup of coffee and took a restorative sip. The door at the top of the stairs opened, and Andi appeared.

“Morning,” Nina called. “You’re looking like you feel better.”

“I do! I ate breakfast without having to throw up. I call that progress.” Andi reached the main floor and grabbed Nina’s mug. She inhaled deeply. “God, I miss coffee. More than wine. I would have thought the wine would be the hardest to give up, but it’s not.”

She returned the mug and glanced at the stack of files. “Looks like a busy day.”

“We had a fairly light schedule, but there were a few last-minute calls.”

“There always are on Monday.”

They talked about who had phoned for an emergency visit, then Andi led the way to the break room.

“Guess who we had dinner with last night?” Andi asked as she filled a mug with water, then set it in the microwave. Her green eyes danced with amusement.

Nina took a step back. “No way. I don’t want to know.”

“But I want to tell you and you have to listen.” She grinned. “Dr. and Mrs. Harrington and their son, Dylan.” Andi clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe I’ve been on the island nearly a year and this is the first time I’m meeting the infamous ‘my son, the doctor.’”

Nina groaned. “Seriously? They had you over?”

“Uh-huh. It was great. He’s handsome. I wasn’t expecting him to be so ruggedly good-looking.”

“He’s okay.”

Andi hesitated. “Is this hard for you? Should I not fill you in on the details and tease you?”

Nina wanted to say yes, but that was ridiculous. She squared her shoulders and instead said, “Of course it’s fine. Dylan and I were over years and years ago. I never think about him.” Or she hadn’t until this past weekend. Which was his fault. If he hadn’t stopped to help her, she would have been completely fine. And happy not to have him on the brain.