More Than This Page 20

  Holly makes a pained face. “Uhhhhh,” she moans, “the casino. Don’t remind me.”

  “Is Coco still going full steam ahead on that?”

  “I think so. But honestly, I’ve been more occupied with the B&B and with Ray’s memorial this weekend.”

  “Speaking of Ray’s memorial, is there anything I can do to help?” Jake offers.

  “I think we’ve got it all set up. Ray and Millie’s kids will be down here. The service will be at the chapel, of course, and we’ll all meet back in the B&B’s dining room for a potluck after. It’s pretty straightforward.”

  “I still can’t believe this happened.” Jake stares at the wet ring that his beer mug leaves on the counter when he moves it.

  “I don’t want to be morbid,” Holly says, reaching out a hand and resting it on his forearm. “But this island isn’t getting any younger. You know how I feel about getting new people to move down here, and how important it is to look to the future if we’re going to keep moving forward.”

  “I’m sorry it happened when you weren’t here.”

  “Me, too.” Holly’s eyes mist over as she remembers all the times she’d laughed and talked with Ray, or the nights she’d spent at the HoHo, watching Ray lead his wife across the dance floor. The island won’t be the same without him. “But we’ll get through this, just like we get through everything else, right?” There’s no use hiding the tears that have filled her eyes, and Holly swipes at them as they spill over and run down her cheeks.

  “Yeah, we’ll get through this. And we’ll get through Coco’s nonsense—I’ve got your back, Hol. You know that.” Jake puts a hand on Holly’s cheek and wipes away a tear with the pad of his thumb. It’s a move that’s at once intimate and tender, and it reminds Holly of all the good things they’ve shared.

  “I know, Jake. You’ve got my back—just as long as I don’t show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night looking to cuddle.” Her joke breaks through the thick layer of sadness and they both laugh.

  “Exactly. Don’t show up at my place with those puppy dog eyes and a bottle of wine, or we’re both doomed.”

  “It’s a deal,” Holly says, offering him a hand. She isn’t totally sure, but Holly could swear that she sees the slightest flicker of heat in Jake’s eyes as he hesitates for just a fraction of a second before taking her hand in his and giving it a hearty shake.

  29

  Cap Duncan starts Ray’s memorial on Sunday afternoon by inviting everyone to take a seat.

  “Please turn to the person next to you and take their hand,” Cap says. He steps down from the small pulpit and stands between Maria Agnelli and Maggie Sutter, taking their hands in his as they all turn and face the rest of the islanders in the chapel. “Millie has asked that we do a non-traditional service for our wonderful friend Ray, and we’d like to honor her wishes by making this an afternoon of laughter mixed with tears, and of love intertwined with our loss.”

  Holly reaches out and takes Fiona’s hand in her left one, then turns to Vance Guy next to her and holds out her right hand for him to clasp. He wraps his big hand around hers and gives it a squeeze. Next to Vance is his wife Calista, and on her right are the twins, who are holding hands and shoving each other lightly from side to side.

  “Shhh,” Calista whispers to her boys, trying to get them to settle down.

  In the row ahead of them is Bonnie, and next to her is Wyatt Bender, who takes Bonnie’s plump hand in his weathered one and pulls her closer to him. It’s almost imperceptible, but Holly sees it and she smiles to herself. Across the row Jake holds hands with Katelynn Pillory, and on Katelynn’s left is Logan. Logan leans forward slightly and looks around his mom so that he can make eye contact with Holly. He smiles shyly at her and she smiles back.

  “I’d like to start by talking a little about what it means to move your whole life to Christmas Key,” Cap says. “Ray and Millie are the proud parents of three grown children—Adam, Renee, and Courtney—and seven grandchildren.” Cap nods in the direction of Millie and her loved ones in the front row. “When they decided to join this amazing community, they knew that in doing so, they were making a trade-off. The steep price we pay when we leave our families to move to Christmas Key is that we miss out on some of the big moments in their lives.” Cap makes eye contact with the people in the chapel, knowing that they understand fully what this trade-off means. “And the bigger consequence is that sometimes they miss out on the big moments in our lives.”

  Millie lets go of her son’s hand and puts a Kleenex to her eyes.

  “None of us ever knows when the last good-bye we’ll say to someone will actually be the last good-bye, but for those of us who choose to live so far away from our loved ones, we take a calculated risk. And even though Ray left us without getting the chance to hold his grandchildren one more time, and he never knew that the last phone call he made to his children would be the final time they heard his voice, I would wager that the years he and Millie have spent on Christmas Key have been amongst the best of their lives.”

  “That’s true,” Millie says, choking back a sob. “They have been.” Her younger daughter puts an arm around Millie’s shoulders and rests the side of her head against her mother’s.

  Cap pauses and lets his words sink in. “We’ll all miss Ray and his big, boisterous personality. We’ll miss him being first in line at Mistletoe Morning Brew—”

  “And first into the bathroom at the coffee shop with the newspaper under one arm!” Jimmy Cafferkey pipes up from the back. Iris whacks his arm with one hand, but everyone laughs at this, knowing that it’s true.

  “But who else would have helped his wife open up a much-needed beauty salon on the island so that we don’t have to look at each other’s ugly, un-groomed mugs anymore? And which man amongst us would have offered up his toes to his wife so that she could try out the nail polish colors she’d ordered for the salon?” More laughter fills the chapel.

  Joe Sacamano slips out of his pew and picks up his acoustic guitar from a chair in the corner of the chapel. He puts the strap over his shoulder and adjusts it so that the instrument is positioned correctly, then sits on the stool next to the pulpit and begins to strum gently.

  “Anyhow,” Cap says, winking at Joe. “All that Millie wanted today was for us to all be here together, and for Joe to play ‘In My Life’ by the Beatles while we all sing along.”

  A sigh runs through the crowd as Joe starts playing the familiar intro to the song, and within seconds, everyone is swaying slightly, the lyrics falling from their lips as tears run over their smiling cheeks. It’s the perfect way to remember Ray, and Holly looks around at her neighbors as they sing together from their hearts, wrapping their arms around the shoulders of the person next to them rather than just merely holding hands.

  The ceremony is brief and non-denominational, and Cap wraps things up by encouraging everyone to “love each other every day” after his reading of “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas.

  There are more tears and hugs outside in front of the chapel as Millie greets every person with open arms. Holly hasn’t stopped crying since Cap’s first words, and seeing Millie and her beautiful children and grandchildren standing together under the tall palm trees and scrub pine doesn’t help to stanch the flow.

  “Hey, honey,” Millie says, tucking her curly auburn hair behind her ears. Her gold hoops glint in the sunlight as they dangle from her earlobes. “Come here.” Millie pulls Holly in for a tight hug, and the women embrace in the humid afternoon. “Ray and I have sure loved watching you grow up,” she whispers in Holly’s ear. “And we both think that you’re the best damn mayor this island could ever ask for.” It isn’t lost on Holly that Millie uses the present tense, as if Ray is still around to offer an opinion. The sentiment is beautiful, but it also makes her a little sad.

  “Thank you, Millie,” she says, kissing her friend on the cheek as they part. “That means the world to me.”

  It’s a
n emotional caravan of golf carts that makes its way over to Main Street where most people park along the curb. Holly leads the way into the lot so that Millie and her family can park there and head into the B&B through the back door. Inside, the women who’ve been caring for Millie and helping her get through her days without Ray have set up an impressive feast on the tables, and within minutes, people are mingling and serving up plates of cold fried chicken, potato salad, and cornbread muffins.

  Buckhunter has invited people to wander down to Jack Frosty’s if they’d like something harder than the Arnold Palmers that Millie has requested for the potluck—they were always Ray’s favorite, and it’s those little touches that people have suggested for the event (like fried chicken, another of Ray’s favorites) that are keeping the weak smile on Millie’s face.

  “You holding up okay?” Jake walks up to Holly with two Arnold Palmers. He hands her one.

  “Yeah, that was nice. Understated.” She drinks the iced tea/lemonade combo and nods at Iris Cafferkey across the room.

  “Where’s your mom?” Jake looks around the room warily. His expression reminds Holly of a child who’s been frightened by a jack-in-the-box one too many times.

  “Oh, it can’t be that bad, can it?” Holly smiles at him. “I’m the one who should be scared by the thought of Coco popping up out of nowhere.” She sets her drink on the nearest table and picks up a cold chicken drumstick from her pile of food.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Jake says. He reaches over and plucks a cornbread muffin off of Holly’s plate. “You owe me this for the nachos you stole the other night.” He holds up the muffin and then takes a big bite.

  “So what did my mother do now?”

  “She got drunk and asked for a ride back to the B&B from the HoHo on Friday night.”

  Holly shrugs. “That seems like a responsible thing to do. I’m glad she didn’t try to drive the B&B golf cart home after too many martinis.” She takes a dainty bite of the drumstick, holding it between her fingers and leaning forward slightly.

  “And then when I pulled up to the curb she asked if I’d cuff and frisk her.”

  Holly starts choking. “What?” she sputters, coughing as Jake whacks her on the back.

  “You okay?” he laughs.

  “No! No—I am definitely not okay.” Holly reaches for her drink and downs a huge swig of her Arnold Palmer. “Jesus. You’re kidding, right?”

  “I would never kid about something like that. Trust me.”

  Holly spins around, searching the room for her mother. “I’ll kill her.”

  “Hey, slow down there, sunshine,” Jake says, grabbing Holly by the elbow. “She was drunk. And she told me all about how she and Alan were on different pages and how she needed to be down here so that she could clear her head—”

  “Which does not include getting cuffed and frisked by my ex,” Holly says hotly. The tips of her ears have gone red, and she’s tugging her arm to free it from Jake’s grip. “Between the casino and this, I’m seriously done with her. She’s out of here.”

  Holly yanks her arm out of Jake’s grasp and tosses the drumstick onto her plate, which she shoves into Jake’s hand. “I’m going to find her,” she fumes.

  “Holly,” Jake says, reaching out and catching her by the wrist. He tugs firmly, talking quietly through his clenched jaw. “This isn’t the time or the place to duke it out with Coco.” He tips his head in Millie’s direction. “I only said that because I thought you would laugh. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you’d go ballistic in the middle of Ray’s memorial.”

  Holly breathes in and out, her chest heaving with the exertion of keeping her cool. “You of all people should know how easy it is to send me into overdrive when it comes to my mother.” She narrows her eyes at Jake. “And if you’re refusing to sleep with me for the rest of our natural lives, then you’re sure as hell not sleeping with my mother.”

  They stare each other down for several seconds before the levity of the situation breaks wide open with their laughter. First it’s a surprised chuckle, but as Holly and Jake look into one another’s eyes and weigh the ridiculousness of the the situation, the real laughter bubbles up and takes over. Before they know what’s hit them, they’re doubled over right there in the middle of the B&B dining room, leaning into each other for support as they howl.

  “Sugar,” Bonnie says, approaching them with a worried look. “Are you two hysterical? Do I need to slap someone?”

  Holly shakes her head, putting her knuckles under her nose as she tries to mask the laughter that won’t stop. “Not unless you’re up for slapping Coco.” Jake’s shoulders start to shake all over again.

  “Slap your mother?” Bonnie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do I finally have permission?”

  “Let’s wait until after everyone leaves,” Holly says, wiping the tears that have sprung to her eyes again—only this time from laughing and not because of her sadness about Ray.

  “That’s a deal,” Bonnie says, folding her arms across her chest and cocking one eyebrow.

  Everyone lingers at the B&B until sunset. When Millie is finally ready to call it a night, people gather dishes and leftovers and head for their golf carts, lumbering across Main Street with full bellies and hearts.

  Holly stays behind, as she often does after a function at the B&B. Once everyone is gone, she kicks off her sandals and walks around the dining room, straightening chairs and pulling tablecloths from the round tables. She’ll start a load of linens before heading home, then come back first thing in the morning to keep the laundry moving through.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Holly’s head snaps around at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Where else would I be?”

  “I was upstairs and I thought if you were still here that we might have a chance to talk.” Coco walks all the way into the room, her slinky figure clad only in a pair of satiny navy blue shorts and a thin, striped tank top. Her feet are bare, and her toes are painted fire-engine red.

  Holly is leaning over a table, gathering the edges of the cloth that covers it so she can take the whole thing outside and shake off the crumbs before tossing it into the washing machine. She pauses and stares at her mother. “Oh, you want to talk?” She stands up straight and squares her shoulders. “Should we talk about how you tried to get Jake upstairs the other night? Or should we wait until Alan is around and share that little gem in front of him?”

  “Holly…” Coco trails off. She at least has the decency to look chagrined, which she does—momentarily. “I had a few drinks too many that night. I didn’t mean anything by it. And besides, he’s only about fifteen years younger than me. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal if it’d actually happened.”

  “It wouldn’t be a big deal? Are you kidding me? Jake and I almost got married, Mom!”

  Coco sits on the edge of one of the dining room chairs and crosses her tanned, toned legs. The muscles of her thighs are taut and defined. “Let’s not get carried away here,” Coco says, holding up one finger. “He asked, and you said no. In my mind, that means he’s on the market and that you’ve relinquished all right to have a say in who he spends his time with.”

  Holly is almost speechless. Almost. “But, but—how…I mean—” she stutters. “What were you even thinking? Number one, that’s disgusting. I dated him! And number two—possibly even more important than number one—you’re married. To Alan. Who is patiently waiting for you to get it together and come back to New Jersey.”

  “Oh, he is not,” Coco says, waving a hand at her daughter. “He’s as bored of me as I am of him. Let’s be honest.”

  “I talked to him the other day, and he didn’t sound bored at all. He sounded worried. He sounded like he wanted you to find what you were looking for.”

  “Wait—you talked to Alan?” Coco frowns at Holly. “Did he call here?”

  “No, I called him.”

  Coco stands up. “Who told you to do that, Holly? You have no right to get in m
y business.”

  The irony of this statement is like a punch in the gut to Holly. “Are you out of your mind?” She pulls the tablecloth off the table and drops it onto the pile she’s already gathered, forgetting altogether about the crumbs that need to be shaken off outside. “All you ever do is come down here and get in my business! You go after my business like it’s your full-time job. You’re so far up in my business that I feel like you know more about me than my gynecologist does.”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Holly.”

  “That’s not vulgar, Coco—that’s honest. But you wanna know what is vulgar? My mom trying to cheat on her husband with my ex-boyfriend. My own mother trying to sell the island that her parents built from scratch. You coming down here and bringing investors and trying to turn us into a floating casino while I’m away on vacation. All of that is vulgar.”

  “Let’s be fair, while we’re at it,” Coco interrupts. “I didn’t come down with Gator and the Killjoys because I knew you were on vacation. I was coming here to pitch this idea long before I knew about your European adventure.”

  “Ooooh,” Holly says sarcastically, holding up both hands and wiggling her fingers. “That makes it so much better.” She shakes her head and lets her hands fall to her sides. “I want you to stop coming here and trying to change everything, do you hear me? I want you to take your bored self back to your husband and forget all about moving showgirls and card dealers to Christmas Key. I’m not letting you wreck this place.”

  “You know what, Holly?” Coco says, stepping behind the chair to put something physical between her and the daughter who has suddenly turned into an angry, ranting businesswoman. She rests her hands on the back of the chair and leans one hip against it. “The truth is, you’re incredibly small minded, and I blame your grandparents for that. They taught you to say no to everything that didn’t suit your every whim, and because of it, you’re stuck. You can’t see what this place could be because you’ll never say yes to anything.”