Fly Away with Me Page 5

  “I’m liking Lucy.”

  Eden rolled her eyes. “This was the mid- to late sixties. Hippie days, and Lucy was into that whole scene. A scene that Nana and Grandpa, who were quite religious, thought was sinful. Mom says she and Lucy’d been close when they were younger, but they grew apart, and she didn’t understand what was going on with Lucy.”

  “It’s pretty normal for teenagers to rebel.”

  “I never did. But sure, some do. Kids need to figure out who they are, as compared to who their parents want them to be. In my case, I realized I’m a lot like my parents. My baby sister is less so. She’s spontaneous rather than being a planner. But she’s still a decent person. Not someone who’d hurt her parents like Lucy did Nana and Grandpa.”

  “Maybe they hurt her by not trying to understand her. By imposing rules that made no sense to her.” No, wait. Just because his and Miranda’s grandparents had been crappy to them, that didn’t give him the right to judge Eden’s. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Looking thoughtful, she finished chewing her bread. “My dad’s parents died before I was born, then Grandpa passed away when I was five. My family spent a lot of time with Nana. She was set in her ways. Demanding and . . . well, she could be judgmental. Kelsey—my sister—and I used to say Nana must never have been a kid. She sure didn’t seem to remember what it was like.” Her forehead scrunched. “But all the same, we always knew she loved us and wanted what was best for us. And when we did win a word of praise, it meant a lot.”

  To him, the woman sounded manipulative. “She’s dead now?”

  “Last year. And that’s what started all this. Well, that and Mom’s cancer. Mom had a really awful year.” She took a breath, as if she was bracing herself.

  “I’m sorry. It must’ve been hard for you, too.”

  She nodded. “First, Nana died from a stroke, unexpectedly, and that was really rough on Mom. And then Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Dad and I handled the practical details surrounding Nana’s death, like selling her house and most of her furniture, and probating her will. Mom inherited everything, so at least that was straightforward. But she was in no shape—after a double mastectomy, and then starting chemo—to think about what she wanted to do with Nana’s belongings. Dad and I shoved everything into boxes and put them in the attic.”

  As she’d been talking, she’d sipped wine, and now her glass was almost empty. Aaron signaled Jonah to bring another as Eden went on.

  “Recently, Mom finished with radiation and had enough strength to start going through those boxes. Last week she found a letter. It was addressed to Nana and Grandpa, from Lucy.”

  She shook her head. “No, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. I didn’t finish telling you what happened when Lucy was seventeen, in twelfth grade. The push and pull between her and her parents got worse. They fought all the time. One night, Mom heard Lucy screaming that she hated them. They said she was grounded. Lucy said they couldn’t lock her in the house. They said if she went out, she shouldn’t come back because she no longer had a home with them.”

  He groaned. “I don’t know much about parenting but that doesn’t sound smart.”

  “No. They locked her in her room, not knowing she had an escape route out her window and down a huge old maple tree. The next day, when they unlocked the door, she was gone.”

  “What did they do?”

  “They figured it was just Lucy being Lucy and she’d be back in a couple of days. All she’d taken was her school backpack, a few clothes, and a couple of treasured possessions. But she never came back. And they didn’t call the police.”

  “Oh man. Never? I mean, not even after weeks?”

  “No. Mom’s positive about that. They stopped talking about her. After a few months, they converted her room into a sewing room for Nana, and threw out everything Lucy had owned, even every picture that had her in it.”

  He whistled. “That’s harsh.” Maybe his grandparents weren’t so awful after all. They’d been planning to retire to Florida when their estranged daughter, Corinne, OD’ed, and they were pissed off at having to delay their move. But they’d done it and taken in their grandkids, something they’d never been willing to do before, not when Corinne was alive and social services had put Aaron and Miranda in foster care for weeks, even months at a time. Anyhow, for whatever reason, this time they’d stepped up to the plate and provided a home, even if they made it clear they hated having to do it. They’d told Aaron and Miranda that they’d better learn useful skills in high school because they’d be on their own after that.

  “It was harsh,” Eden agreed. “I was stunned. I didn’t think Nana could be so unforgiving. Mom managed to hide away a few mementos, photos of her and Lucy. But if she ever mentioned Lucy, her parents shut her down, saying they had no daughter by that name.”

  Jonah slipped the second glass of wine in front of her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Your mom let it go?” Aaron asked.

  “They didn’t give her a choice. She was twelve; what could she do? She did ask Lucy’s friends if they knew anything, and they said no, just that she’d been madly in love with some new guy. Some secret, hippie boyfriend named Barry none of them had met. Later, once there was the Internet, Mom and Dad both hunted for Lucy. Dad has mad computer skills. They’d try every now and then but never found anything. Mom said that thinking about her missing sister hurt, so she mostly avoided doing it. That’s why she never told Kelsey and me about Lucy.”

  Jonah brought their meals, steaming hot and smelling so good that Aaron’s stomach growled. “Okay if I split this?” he asked Eden. At her nod, he proceeded to do an even split, though she protested that she’d never be able to eat that much.

  She tasted both dishes, pronounced them delicious, and for a few minutes they savored their meals in silence. Then she said, “Okay, to get back to the letter Mom found. Lucy sent her parents a letter in the fall of 1969, a few months after she ran away. She said she was on Destiny Island with her boyfriend and they’d joined a commune.”

  “Bet that went over well.”

  “Mom said, looking back, that must have been when Nana and Grandpa said they no longer had a daughter named Lucy.”

  At least Aaron’s mom’s parents hadn’t been that harsh. They’d accepted responsibility for their grandkids because there was no one else to do it. There’d never been another set of grandparents, not for him or his sister. His own father—a guy from the Musqueam First Nation his mom had been crazy about—had disappeared when she got pregnant. By the time she’d gotten pregnant with Miranda, she’d been turning tricks to pay for drug money and hadn’t had a clue which man had knocked her up.

  Aaron and Eden had both been eating in silence for a few minutes. He drew his mind back to her story. “So that letter gave your mom the first clue.”

  “Yes, and she has an urgent desire to find her sister. Cancer’s had a huge impact on Mom.” She swallowed and firmed her jaw. “She’s fighting the disease, and we keep telling her she’ll beat it and she needs to remain positive. But it’s thrown her. Badly.”

  Moisture sheened her amber eyes and Aaron reached across the table to touch her hand. “I’m sorry.” His own mom had been pretty much broken from way before he’d been old enough to realize his childhood wasn’t a normal one.

  “She was always so strong, physically and mentally. She’s a high school teacher, she coaches the debate team, and she’s made a difference in so many kids’ lives. To see her so shaken, so fragile and vulnerable—” She broke off and a tear slipped down her cheek. “So afraid,” she whispered.

  “Aw, Eden.” He knew she must be scared, too. Helpless, he watched as she used her free hand to swipe away the tear.

  She sniffed. “She’ll heal and regain her strength and confidence. I’m sure of it. And finding Lucy will help immeasurably.”

  Aaron vowed to himself that he’d do everything in his power to locate the missing aunt. And he wouldn’t mention the po
ssibility—which Eden and her mom had to be aware of—that the search might result in the discovery that Lucy was dead.

  Rachelle approached their table. “How are you two enjoying—” After a glance at Eden’s face, she stopped. “Sorry; I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Eden waved a hand and gave a wobbly smile. “No, it’s okay. Just a family thing that gets me a little emotional. On top of being run-down, stressed, and drinking too much wine. I’m so embarrassed.” Her voice had firmed as she spoke and she sounded rueful as she went on. “Believe me, the interruption is welcome. Rachelle, this restaurant is great and the food’s wonderful. My compliments to the chef. Aaron tells me she’s your wife.”

  “The first time Celia cooked for me, she won my heart.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet. And I can understand why.”

  “Say, Rachelle,” Aaron said, “you know pretty much everyone on Destiny. Can you think of a woman named Lucy, age sixty-five? Or a man named Barry?”

  She tilted her head, reflecting. “I’m pretty sure there’s no Barry on Destiny. Lucy Smolenski’s a lot younger than sixty-five and Lucinda Barrie is a teenager. I think they’re the only ones named Lucy. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m looking for a missing relative,” Eden said. “She came here in 1969, joined the commune, and, uh, the family never heard from her again.”

  “That’s too bad. There were lots of hippies on the island and some ended up staying. Maybe one of them will know what happened to her.”

  “When you’re not so busy,” Eden said, “would you mind giving me some names? And Aaron said it’s possible your parents might know something?”

  “Dad didn’t have much patience with the hippies. He says their idea of living off the land was expecting the land and sea to provide for them without them having to put in the hard work. Mom’s eight years younger than him, so I’m not sure she even had much contact with the commune folks. But I’ll ask them and let you know.”

  “I’d appreciate that. Could you ask them if they’d mind talking to their friends as well?”

  “You bet. The wider you spread the net, as Dad says. Now, you finish up your dinner so I can tempt you with dessert.” With a flick of her beaded braids, she moved on to the next table.

  And with any luck, after dinner Aaron would be able to tempt Eden into a shared kiss or two in the moonlight.

  Chapter Four

  What was Aaron thinking that brought a smile to his sensual lips? A smile with a hint of sexy wickedness. It made her remember something Rachelle had said earlier. “So, you and Rachelle were black sheep in high school. In what way?”

  He ate a bite of salmon before answering, and she sensed he was deciding what to say. “There were groups. Jocks, geeks, academics, do-gooders, party kids. Was your school like that?”

  “Aren’t they all? I guess I fit in with the do-gooders and academics. How about you?”

  “Neither Rachelle nor I fit into a group. And we didn’t want to.”

  “I guess you two didn’t date each other?”

  “No, she figured out she was gay pretty early on. We were . . . well, friends, I guess.”

  “High school can be complicated,” she sympathized. “What kind of black sheep stuff did you do?”

  He gazed out the window and she did too, enjoying how the boat and dock lights glittered against the darkening sky. This view was so different from the one of Ottawa’s city lights from her fifteenth-floor apartment. And the man across from her in the candlelight, with his dark-skinned, muscular body and his black Henley with the rolled-up sleeves, was so different from any other man in her life. The guys she knew in Ottawa, even when they wore jeans, somehow looked as if they were wearing a suit. Aaron’s natural physicality was so appealing, just like the magical ocean view.

  “I skipped class,” he said, “didn’t turn in assignments. You know.”

  “You sound like half the kids in my school.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” He paused. “That was the least of it.”

  “You’ve got me curious.” Not that she’d ever been attracted to the bad-boy type. She’d thought kids who broke the rules were stupid. It never did them any good in the end.

  “It was a long time ago. I’m not that guy now.”

  “Okay, I believe you. So why not tell me?”

  “I don’t talk much about those days.”

  She cocked her head. “You’re making a big deal out of this. If I ever do find out, it’s going to be an anticlimax.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to find out.”

  As her family and coworkers knew, once Eden got an idea in her head, she wasn’t about to let it go until she was satisfied. So she prompted, “I’m guessing typical teenage stuff like drinking, drugs. Street racing. Spraying graffiti.”

  He was gazing at her with a quizzical expression that gave nothing away.

  She continued. “Or there’s the ever-popular shoplifting.”

  Tiny muscles around his eyes flinched.

  Her own eyes widened. “Shoplifting? Really?”

  He shrugged. “Along with that other stuff you mentioned.”

  “What did you steal?”

  “Junk food from stores. Loose change from houses when people weren’t home.”

  “You broke into people’s houses?” That was more serious than pinching an occasional candy bar from a grocery store.

  “I was a messed-up kid.” His voice grated. “God knows where I’d have ended up if I hadn’t got caught.”

  At least he realized how stupid his behavior had been. Eden kept quiet as Jonah came to clear away their empty dinner plates. The young man with his mocha skin, close-cropped hair, and black shirt and pants was a great waiter, efficient and personable. He offered more wine, and Eden realized that somehow, without her noticing, she’d managed to empty two glasses. No wonder she’d gotten so embarrassingly emotional.

  She and Aaron both refused the offer, and Jonah left dessert menus on the table.

  When he’d gone, Eden said, “You were arrested?”

  Aaron shook his head. “I had the amazing luck to be caught stealing from a cabin in the woods that belonged to a guy named Lionel Williams. He called himself antiestablishment. Had no fondness for authority of any kind, much less the police.”

  “So he caught you but didn’t report you, and yet you turned your life around? I gather he played a part in that?”

  “Oh yeah. Lionel didn’t let me off easy.” Aaron sounded grateful, even affectionate. “He made me work for him. He said he’d turn me in if I didn’t, which I later realized might’ve been an empty threat. Anyhow, he had me doing all sorts of hard physical labor around his place. Chopping wood, fixing the roof, painting. I whined and cussed in the beginning.” He grinned wryly. “But a part of me liked it. I realized I had value. I could put in a hard day’s work. I came to respect Lionel and he turned me into a better person.”

  “Every kid should have a mentor like that.” Surely Lionel couldn’t have been the only person to make Aaron face up to the consequences of his actions, to make him feel valued when he worked hard. Cautiously, she asked, “Your parents didn’t push you that way? Or any of your teachers?” Her mom the teacher complained about parents who wanted to be their children’s best friend rather than to take on the parental responsibility of setting rules, disciplining their kids, and encouraging and rewarding them for acting maturely. According to her mom, too many teachers also shirked that responsibility. As a result, kids were immature, spoiled, and acted out—as, it seemed, Aaron had.

  He snorted. “Only Lionel. And after I’d worked for him a few weeks, he took me flying.” His face lit up.

  The picture was falling into place. “He was a pilot?”

  “That little Cessna 180 you saw? That used to be his, before I bought it off him when his arthritis got so bad he couldn’t fly any longer. He loved flying, and he used to take folks places they needed to go. Not as a business. He never set up anything formal, much less legal. He
flew people; they paid him in money or goods or services. Barter’s popular on the island. Don’t tell Canada Revenue, okay?”

  She didn’t approve, but it was none of her business, so she said, “Okay. So let me guess how the story goes. Lionel taught you to fly?”

  “He did, and created an addict.” A shadow crossed his face. He gave his head a shake and the shadow was gone. “But in a healthy way, because it kept me active, engaged, learning. He said if I wanted to work as a pilot, no one would ever hire me if I didn’t finish high school and get proper pilot training. So I did, graduating, then moving to Victoria and working at whatever jobs I could get as I paid for pilot training.”

  “Didn’t you need to get a university degree, too?”

  “If I’d wanted to be hired by one of the major airlines, but I didn’t. No, it’s not a requirement for licensing. Pilot training is intensive and you put in a lot of flying hours.”

  “That makes sense.” She considered his story. “Lionel sounds like a special guy. Does he have a wife and kids?” If so, she wondered how they’d felt about him taking a stranger, a thief, under his wing.

  Aaron shook his head. “He’s kind of a loner. Oh, he has cronies to hang out with and a special lady, though they don’t live together. He likes living on his own and so does Marlise. Not having to account to anyone or be responsible for anyone. Makes a lot of sense to me.”

  “Are you like that, too?” Aaron had said he wasn’t interested in anything long term with her. Was that his general approach to relationships? He was certainly attractive enough that he’d have no trouble finding dates.

  “Yeah, I am. I like most people, but I don’t want them to get too close. That’s asking for problems, seems to me.”

  Asking for problems? Well, sure. Problems like her mom’s cancer, her dad’s stressing out over her mom’s health, her grandmother’s death, and Kelsey’s apparent inability to commit to anything. But just being alive meant facing problems, and Eden’s love for her family and theirs for her was the foundation that gave her the strength and joy to face whatever came her way. “You don’t want to get married and have kids?”