Is It Any Wonder (Nantucket Love Story #2) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,25
they get to know us, they’ll respect us. If they respect us, they’ll listen to us. They’ll die less.”
“Sounds like you should’ve hired a community events coordinator,” Cody said. “You know I wouldn’t have applied for that job.”
“I got a better idea,” Duncan said. “We marry the Coast Guard with the community. We work together on a few events to get our name out there, but we work with people in the community. I thought about putting someone else on this, but after yesterday, after the way people are responding to you saving that girl, I knew it had to be you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Cody said, though he was absolutely sure this was a terrible idea. What he needed was to be transferred off the island. Not to cozy up with the locals and weasel his way into their community. He preferred to keep people at a distance.
“I’m sure,” the master chief said. “Now, you can head out today and run a few drills with the guys.” He slid a light-blue business card across the desk. “Be here tomorrow at 0900. We’ll meet with them, and they’ll help us get a game plan.”
He picked up the card. The Good Life. “What is this?”
“Event planners. People who are better at this stuff than we are.”
“That could be anyone,” Cody said. “Because everyone is better at this than I am.”
“You’re going to be just fine,” Duncan said. “Do you need to talk to someone about what happened?”
Cody stilled. “Why?”
Duncan shrugged. “It’s important to process these things so they don’t pile up on you. Sometimes a guy needs to unload.”
“I’m fine,” Cody said. A lie if he’d ever told one, but Duncan didn’t need to know that. Cody didn’t want to talk to a therapist or Duncan or anyone else. He wanted to stop thinking about Louisa’s cold body, about the initials and hash marks tattooed on the inside of his arm. About the hovering memories that followed him wherever he went on this island.
Not thinking was the only way he’d survive being stationed here—but he wasn’t sure how to make that happen.
Louisa woke up with a bad headache and an achy body. She should probably stay in bed another day, but she was too restless. Two days at home with Maggie had been more than enough.
The old woman had returned with a coffee cake and now bustled around the house, pretending to be busy.
Louisa glanced at the clock. Ally had scheduled a meeting at nine thirty, and she needed to prepare. She didn’t even know who the client was.
“I could stay around and help out this morning,” Maggie said as Louisa not-so-subtly moved her toward the front door.
“I’ll be fine,” Louisa said.
“You shouldn’t be working so soon.” Maggie stopped at the front door—so close—and stood unmoving, like a boulder lodged down deep in a crack in the earth.
“You know I can’t afford to turn anything down right now.”
“Well, you can’t afford to die either,” Maggie said.
Louisa wasn’t so sure. If she died, she wouldn’t have to face all the feelings she’d been having the past couple days.
“Really, Mags,” Louisa said. “I’m fine. Now go. I have a meeting.”
She stared at Louisa in that pointed way she sometimes did when she wanted to make it clear she saw straight through her. “Are you okay, Lou?”
Louisa waved her off. “I told you. I’m fine.”
“You said that when Eric broke up with you too,” Maggie said. “And we both know that was a lie.”
Well, that hurt.
“I broke up with Eric,” she said lamely.
“Tomato, tom-ah-to. You’re not the greatest at dealing with your emotions,” Maggie continued, as if she had a personal mission to unravel Louisa’s sense of calm, which was barely intact in the first place.
“I’m fine,” Louisa repeated for the third time. “But I won’t be if you don’t leave.”
Maggie studied her, no doubt trying to decide whether she was going to cooperate. Finally she said, “Promise me you’ll take lots of breaks.”
“Go home, Mags.” Louisa pushed open the screen door.
Maggie started to walk out, then turned and faced her. “You’ll call if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
“That wasn’t a question, you’ll notice,” Maggie said.
“You go home and rest,” Louisa said. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”
Maggie waved her off. “I’m sturdy, and I’m already dying. You’ve got a few years left in you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that,” Louisa said.
Maggie laughed. “You don’t like the truth, do ya?”
“It’s not the truth,” Louisa said. “Don’t you believe in miracles?”