I was going to make her rich. She never cared about money, but she said she’d love to start a charity for kids or something someday, so she wrote me a check.”
“And you gambled it away?” Louisa couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice.
Her father didn’t look at her. “And then some.”
“So you went to Dad for help,” Cody said.
“He found out about it,” her father said. “He said he’d bail me out under two conditions—that I got help for my problem and turned Maggie’s accounts over to someone else.”
Louisa looked at Cody, her mind spinning back to the paperwork they’d found among Maggie’s things. Daniel had made sure the old woman was taken care of. He’d even made sure that Louisa’s family was taken care of. Again, he’d made a huge sacrifice—one none of them deserved.
“You need to know, Daniel had a plan for recouping the investment,” her father continued. “He would’ve had one lean month—maybe two—and I had a plan to pay him back.”
“But you didn’t pay him back,” Marissa said. “And we had to start over from scratch.”
Louisa watched as her father slowly shook his head. “When he died, I did turn my life around. But it took some time. And by the time I had the money, I don’t know—I guess it was easier to pretend none of it ever happened.”
Marissa scoffed. “So were you relieved when my husband died?”
He took a step toward her. “Danny was my closest friend. He saved my life. He sacrificed to save me, and I owe him everything. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from his death. But I’ve been such a coward, Marissa.” He looked at Cody. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I hope you can forgive me. Someday.” He paused. “And of course, I’ll pay back every cent.”
Marissa methodically bent over and picked up her purse. She slung it over her shoulder, then walked right up to Louisa’s dad and smacked him across the face.
“You are a terrible man,” she said. “As long as I live, I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.”
Louisa’s heart dropped. This was not the way this was supposed to go.
“Marissa, please—” Louisa’s mom took a step toward them, but Marissa’s glare stopped her in her tracks.
“Did you know about this?”
“She didn’t know anything,” Louisa’s dad said. “Nobody did, except Daniel. I asked him to keep it from all of you. I was so ashamed.”
“So your secret died with him, and you let it,” Marissa snapped, obvious disgust on her face. She looked at Cody. “Let’s go.”
Cody stood still for several seconds, as if being held in place by a magnetic force. Louisa knew that once he left, that would be it—they would be over.
She looked at the fallout of her father’s confession. If they’d been broken before, they were shattered now. And Louisa could dream all she wanted to—but even she couldn’t put the pieces back together.
Maggie Fisher was buried on a Wednesday.
All of Nantucket came out to pay their respects, yet somehow Louisa had never felt more alone in her entire life.
CHAPTER FORTY
THE WEEK AFTER MAGGIE DIED, Louisa finally went to the old woman’s house. She assumed it was up to her to get the thing cleaned out and put on the market, though part of her wished she could keep the old cottage for herself. She could take up collecting the cottages of the people she loved.
The view of the water was unmatched, and she still felt Maggie inside these walls.
She hauled boxes down the stairs and tried not to think about Cody. Marissa and Marley had left the island the evening of the funeral, something Louisa only knew because she overheard someone sending them off at the funeral luncheon. Her own parents would also leave in just a few days, and while that was a blessing, without Maggie there, how would Louisa keep from feeling truly, utterly, and horribly alone?
The island itself used to feel like a friend, but with Cody still here and the wide divide between them, even it felt like a traitor.
That afternoon, Maggie’s lawyer, Henry Holbrook, would come by to read the will. As far as she knew, she would be the only person in attendance for the reading, but Louisa thought that was fitting. Until this summer, it had been her and Maggie for a long time. Sure, her own parents popped in and out every summer for a few weeks, sometimes a month or two, but their presence