The Summer Seekers Read online

  “In my mother’s house.” Angie selected a jar of jam from the shelf. “My home, now. She died last year and I came over to sell it, but then decided to keep it. It’s small, but there’s room for Poppy to come and stay. Did you have more children?”

  “No. The twins kept me busy!”

  “I can imagine.” Angie gave Liza a hug. “It’s good to see you. Until tomorrow.”

  Liza felt Angie’s hair brush her cheek, breathed in her floral scent.

  She clung for a moment. She missed friendship. She missed intimacy.

  Having hauled her many purchases back to the car, she arrived back at Oakwood Cottage feeling a thousand times better than she had when she’d started that morning.

  She unpacked the food, put a selection onto a plate and the rest in the fridge.

  Feeling decadent, she opened a bottle of wine, poured herself a glass and took it out onto the patio.

  Popeye sat there, licking his fur. He paused long enough to throw her a look of disdain, and then carried on his grooming ritual.

  “Have you always been this emotionally distant, or have you learned it from my mother?” Liza sat down, feeling summery in her new shorts and T-shirt, her feet finally comfortable in pretty flip-flops.

  Her mother was right. She needed to try and capture this light, holiday feeling all year round, not only for a few weeks in August.

  The rest of the afternoon and evening stretched ahead.

  She should probably use the time cleaning her mother’s house, but she had no intention of doing that. The dust could stay where it was. She had better things to do.

  She noticed a missed call from her mother on her phone and felt a flicker of concern. Her mother rarely called her. Liza was the one who did the calling.

  She sat in a shady spot on the patio and sipped her wine while she waited for her mother to answer. When she did, her voice was faint and a little groggy.

  “Mum? Did I wake you?” Had she calculated the time difference incorrectly? “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is better than all right. I’m living the dream.”

  Something about her voice didn’t sound quite right. It was unsettling to realize she didn’t know her mother well enough to be able to read her. “Are you sure? You called me.” And that’s not like you.

  “I’m sure. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do Route 66? Martha is taking wonderful photographs.”

  “I’m enjoying them. Please thank her. Where are you exactly?”

  There was a pause and Liza heard muffled voices in the background before her mother came back on the line.

  “Martha tells me we’re staying somewhere outside Springfield, and today we’re driving through Kansas. How about you? Are you calling me from the car while you take the twins somewhere?”

  “I’m not in the car.” Liza stretched out her legs, admiring her new sandals. “I’m drinking wine on your patio, having enjoyed an excellent lunch from the deli in the village that you recommended.”

  “You’re in Oakwood?”

  “Why so surprised? You asked me to come here, remember?”

  “Yes, but I never thought—” Her mother’s voice tailed off. “You went to the deli? Try the mini goats’ cheese tartlets—they’re divine. And Sean would love the chocolate brownie.”

  “Sean isn’t here, but I’ll buy some for myself next time I’m there.”

  There was a pause. “You’re on your own?”

  “Yes. I came to check on Popeye, as I promised you I would.” She glanced at the cat but saw nothing even vaguely approaching gratitude in its feline features. “And yesterday I found a stranger in your kitchen.”

  “No! Another intruder?”

  “Not exactly, but I didn’t figure that part out until after I’d called the police. Why didn’t you tell me you knew Finn? And that you’d asked him to feed the cat?”

  “Ah.”

  “You also forgot to mention that the two of you meet up for coffee regularly and that you swim in his pool several times a week.”

  “I’m old, Liza. My memory isn’t what it was.”

  Liza raised her eyes to the sky. “Says the woman who is currently crossing America in a sports car.”

  “It’s every bit as wonderful as I thought it would be.”

  “Good. But why did you ask me to come to keep an eye on Popeye, when someone else was already doing it?”

  “It was a spontaneous thing. I thought you needed a rest and sea air. I knew you wouldn’t do it for yourself, but I knew you’d do it for me if I asked. Because that’s the kind of person you are. And now you’re going to tell me off for being a hypocrite and interfering even though I never allow the same interference from you.”

  Liza grinned. “Actually I was going to thank you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. For encouraging me to do something I wouldn’t have done without a nudge.” She watched as Popeye basked in the sunshine. She never made time in her life to do nothing. Why was it that a busy life was valued more highly than a quiet one? She’d spent so long sprinting between tasks that she’d forgotten how to stroll. A moment of inaction made her feel stressed and guilty.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d do it. Or at least I thought you’d take Sean.”

  Liza finished her wine. “It didn’t work out that way.” There was a long pause. “Mum? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. Liza—is everything all right?”

  It was so unlike her mother to ask that question, Liza almost spilled the wine. “Everything is fine. Why?”

  “Nothing. Ignore me.”

  Why did it feel as if she was missing something? “Are you okay, Mum? Did you call for a reason?”

  “I was worried about you, that’s all.”

  Liza had to stop herself checking the number on the phone. Was this really her mother? “You called to check on me? Why? You’re not usually a worrier.”

  “I worry about many things. I worry about leaving this earth before I’ve done everything I want to do. I worry about Popeye. I worry about whether I should have had that old apple tree pruned.”

  “Wrong time of year.” Liza glanced at its thick gnarly bark and spreading branches. “I’ll make a note to remind you in the winter.”

  “What did you think of Finn?”

  “He was—nice.” It was an inadequate word, but also a neutral description that wouldn’t invite further questioning. If she’d described him as charismatic, charming, or sexy—all of which would have applied—the conversation would have gone down a route she didn’t want.

  “He’s nothing like the rumors.”

  “I realize that. We had a good chat.”

  “What about?”

  Life. Her painting. Creativity. A hundred things she hadn’t talked about in ages.

  “Nothing in particular.” And as well as being charismatic, he was possibly the world’s best listener. “The house is spectacular.”

  “It’s the garden I love. And the pool, of course. And those beautiful dogs.”

  “I had no idea you knew him. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Kathleen laughed. “I thought you’d lecture me on having unsuitable friends.”

  Liza felt an uncomfortable pressure in her chest. Was she really that bad?

  “I’m sorry you feel you have to censor things you tell me. If I nag you, it’s because I love you.” She knew her mother didn’t feel comfortable with demonstrations of affection, but she felt the need to say it.

  “I know you do, dear.”

  Liza held her breath. Waited. Hoped. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  But she wasn’t going to say it back.

  Liza knew she should have accepted that by now. “How’s Martha? Where are you both now? It must be, what—” she checked h
er phone “—ten o’clock in the morning where you are?”

  “Nine. We’re about to eat breakfast before we hit the road.”

  Liza smiled at the description. “I’m pleased you’re having fun. By the way, that nice policewoman called. Given that your intruder was drunk, apologetic and apparently had no previous convictions, she thinks it’s unlikely that you’ll be called in this matter.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Seems like it.”

  “Well, good. Poor man. Now what are you doing this afternoon? Please don’t say you’ll be cleaning.”

  “No cleaning. I’m going to the beach with my sketchbook and paints.” She hadn’t felt the urge to paint in years, but she felt it now. She was excited at the prospect, and that excitement grew as she heard her mother’s murmur of approval.

  “Promise me something? Whatever that painting looks like, I want you to leave it for me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like another of my daughter’s paintings in the house.”

  “Another?”

  “To go with the others, although they were painted a long time ago of course. Too long. You’ve neglected that talent.”

  Her mother had kept her paintings? Liza felt a warm glow and then felt irritated with herself for being so needy.

  “I’ll leave you a painting.”

  She didn’t mention that Finn had asked if she took commissions, or that he was coming to dinner at the end of the week. “I wanted to ask you—you know those old DVDs of your shows? Where are they? Can I watch them?”

  “Why? You were never interested in the show. You always hated that part of my life.”

  Liza felt a twinge of guilt. She could hardly say that talking to Finn had piqued her desire to look back at the way her mother had been back then. “I was young. I missed my mother, that’s all.”

  There was a silence and she wondered what her mother was thinking.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yes! Sorry. I was distracted. The DVDs are in my study. On the shelf, I think, beneath the travel guides. The key to the study is in the drawer by my bed. But Liza—”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tidy. Don’t throw anything away.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” She heard clattering in the background. “What’s happening?”

  “Josh, the hero, has organized breakfast for us. It’s just arrived. Goodness, what a feast!”

  “Who is Josh?”

  “He’s someone we picked up yesterday. A delightful man, and adept at procuring breakfast it would seem.”

  Liza opened her mouth and closed it again. “You—picked up a stranger?”

  “Well, he’s no longer a stranger. In fact without him I’d—” Her mother stopped talking.

  “You’d what?”

  “Nothing. I must go. You know I can’t bear cold oatmeal. And Liza, about Finn—”

  “Yes?”

  “Some of the rumors about him are true. He is charming, and absurdly handsome of course, but a little on the dangerous side, especially when it comes to women. Be careful.”

  “I can’t believe you’re telling me to be careful. You picked up a hitchhiker!”

  “I know. It’s only because I don’t want you to do something impulsive that you regret.”

  Why would her mother say that? Liza had been with Sean since she was a teenager. She’d never been at all interested in another man. Had her mother somehow sensed how unsettled she was?

  With a final goodbye, Liza put the phone down. Regrets? Right now she had a feeling that she was more likely to regret things she hadn’t done than things she had. And she had no reason to feel guilty or uncomfortable. She’d invited Finn to dinner, that was all. It was the neighborly thing to do in the circumstances.

  There had been no reason at all to mention it to her mother.

  14

  MARTHA

  SPRINGFIELD~KANSAS~TULSA

  Martha put a loaded breakfast tray on the table and pulled it close to the bed while Josh poured coffee. She was grateful for his calm, steady presence. “Why didn’t you tell Liza the truth?”

  “Because then she would have worried and this is the first time in as long as I can remember that my daughter hasn’t seemed anxious. She’s staying in the cottage on her own. Taking her paints to the beach. I have no intention of saying anything that will draw a gray cloud over her blue-sky day.”

  Martha hoped it was the right decision. She still felt shaken up after the night before. The responsibility weighed on her. If she were Liza, she’d want to know. But she wasn’t family, so she had to respect Kathleen’s wishes. “All right, but you heard what the doctor said. You overdid it yesterday. Too much sun, not enough water. You were dehydrated. I’m blaming myself.”

  “Why? I’m old enough to decide whether I’m thirsty.”

  “Apparently not. And today I’m going to be nagging you to drink every half hour.”

  “Does gin count?”

  “No.” Martha piled fresh berries into a bowl, relieved that Kathleen appeared to be back to her usual outrageous self. “This breakfast looks delicious, Josh. Where did you find all this?”

  “I raided the kitchen. Friendly people.” He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, nursing a cup of strong coffee. “I agree with Martha. I don’t think you should rush to go anywhere this morning, Kathleen. Take it slowly and see how you feel later.”

  All the antipathy and suspicion Martha had felt had vanished. She had more than one reason to be thankful for the fact that they’d picked up Josh Ryder in Devil’s Elbow.

  Josh had been the one who caught Kathleen before she could hit the floor, and it had been Josh who had located a doctor in virtually the same time it had taken Martha to settle Kathleen on the bed.

  He seemed to have a way of making things happen, and for that Martha was grateful.

  She wouldn’t have wanted to be on her own with this. When Kathleen had collapsed onto Josh, Martha had felt terrified for her, vulnerable and a long way from home.

  What if something happened to Kathleen? It was something she’d considered, of course, but there was a big difference between contemplating the possibility of something and experiencing it.

  The doctor had proceeded to give Kathleen a thorough checkup, while Martha hovered in attendance.

  Reassured that there was nothing that fluids and rest wouldn’t cure, Martha had then insisted that Kathleen follow instructions and rest on her bed for the evening. She’d intended to stay with her and keep her company, but Kathleen had insisted she wanted to be left alone to sleep. Martha had reluctantly agreed to spend the evening in her own room, next door.

  She’d assumed Josh would do his own thing, but he’d insisted on keeping Martha company.

  At first she’d protested. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “If Kathleen gets worse, you can sit with her while I call the doctor.” He’d refused to discuss it, and she’d been relieved to have him there for moral support so she hadn’t argued too hard.

  The drama had broken the ice between them, removing the barriers she’d erected.

  Truthfully, he’d impressed her. He could have walked away, but he hadn’t.

  They’d passed the next few hours playing cards, and despite her anxiety he’d managed to distract her and make her laugh.

  Eventually he’d vanished to track down food and Martha had checked on Kathleen.

  She’d done the same a few times in the night, using the flashlight on her phone to leave and enter the room quietly.

  All the same, it had been a relief when sunlight had finally peeped through the curtains. Things seemed less scary and generally more manageable in daylight.

  “What did you two do last night when I was having my long rest?” Kathleen accepted the bowl of berrie
s Martha handed her. “Did you dress up and find a lovely restaurant?”

  Did she think it was date night?

  Martha didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated that a health fright didn’t seem to have dented Kathleen’s enthusiasm for matchmaking. “We split a pizza and played cards. Yogurt?” She handed one to Kathleen.

  “Thank you, dear. It’s all very healthy and delicious, although I do miss crispy bacon.”

  Josh finished his coffee. “I’m sure I can track down bacon.” He left the room and Kathleen put her bowl down and reached for Martha’s hand.

  “I apologize. You didn’t sign up to be a nurse. You’ve been very kind, but if you wish to resign, I understand.”

  “Resign? No way. Don’t you fret about anything. You need to drink.” Martha poured her another glass of ice water and watched while Kathleen sipped it.

  “I’ll be right as rain in a few minutes. Particularly if Josh tracks down bacon. Isn’t he a wonder?”

  “He’s been a big help.” Martha was careful not to be too effusive in case Kathleen’s next request was that they book a wedding venue. “Are you sure I can’t call Liza back? I think she’d want to know that you weren’t well.”

  “What would be the point? You’d give her something else to worry about and she already has more than enough. I can’t believe she’s actually in Oakwood by herself. You have no idea what a step forward that is, although I’m a little worried about what it means for her and Sean. I do hope the man comes to his senses. Do you think I should call him?”

  “I do not.” As someone who had been on the receiving end of Kathleen’s energetic attempts to meddle with relationships, Martha was swift with her response. “I think you should leave it to them. How are you feeling, really? And don’t put on a brave face.”

  “I’m better. You heard the doctor, it’s nothing serious.”

  “Doctors don’t know everything.” Martha poured Kathleen some juice. “You know what my diagnosis is? Too much meddling with my love life.” She was relieved to see Kathleen smile.

  “That part has been relaxing. And look how well I did. Isn’t he perfect? I chose him for his shoulders and his nice eyes, but it turns out the rest of him is equally magnificent.”