Her mind wandered back to the day after Daniel Boggs drowned.
“This is your fault, Lou!” Cody had shouted at her, face red and splotchy from crying. “You’re the reason my dad is dead.”
Those words still haunted her sometimes. Not only because they stung, but because she believed them. She absolutely believed it was her fault, and she’d spent her whole life trying to make amends for that.
It’s why she had to repair what was broken. She had to bring their two families back together. She couldn’t bring Daniel back, but at least she could try to put the people he loved back together.
Or maybe Daniel wouldn’t want that. Maybe he’d want his wife and kids to walk away from the Chambers family and never speak to them again.
She’d never know.
“So how do we fix it?” Duncan asked. “We’d like your help improving our community relations, restoring our reputation. We want to do good on the island.”
“You do,” she said. “The haunted house at Halloween. The Valentine’s Day dance.”
“You’re right, we do, but I’d like to go above and beyond. Is there something more we can do to increase visibility, connect with people on a personal level?”
Louisa sometimes felt like an idea machine. While she didn’t always know how to go about implementing things, she never wanted for good ideas. She’d always considered that her one true talent.
“What if you did a fundraiser for the Wirth family?” she suggested.
“A fundraiser?” Duncan looked intrigued.
“Sure,” she said. “Someone organized a clambake for them when the accident first happened, but it’s been months of medical bills, and I’m sure they could use the extra support.”
“What kind of fundraiser?”
Louisa didn’t often organize fundraisers. Her business was more about arranging Nantucket dream vacations—fishing excursions and delightful accommodations—or finding the perfect chef to cater a party, those kinds of things. People hired The Good Life for any number of tasks—Alyssa coordinated many of the daily errands they were contracted to do. One client had hired them to arrange his move off the island to South Carolina. Another one hired them to oversee the design aspects of her home renovation.
“Let me give it some thought,” she said. “I’ll talk with my team—” the “team” consisted of her and Alyssa, but they didn’t need to know that—“and get back to you in the next day or so?”
Duncan nodded. “You can send your ideas to Cody. Or maybe you two could just get together again in a few days? I’ve put him in charge of this project, so he’ll be your contact.”
She glanced at Cody, who looked like he’d rather be having his wisdom teeth extracted. Handsome, friendly, jovial Master Chief Duncan McGreery had made crotchety, crusty Cody Boggs the face of the United States Coast Guard on Nantucket? Should she tell him it was a mistake?
Louisa and Ally prided themselves on being able to handle just about anything that came their way—and they dealt with a lot of difficult personalities. Still, she’d bet money that working alongside Cody would be her biggest challenge yet.
She considered turning the job down, but that was impractical. She desperately needed the work. She wasn’t at a point where she could be picky, especially not with a reason as lame as “I don’t want to have to deal with this man or the way I feel when I’m around him.” For pete’s sake, she was an adult, whether Eric believed it or not.
Cody would have to get over it. Why did he insist on being so crabby toward her anyway? Everybody liked Louisa. She was utterly likable. He was the one with a less-than-personable demeanor.
“It’ll be great press for the two of you to be working on this project together, given your history,” Duncan said.
Louisa frowned, while the crease in Cody’s forehead deepened. “Our history?” she asked.
Duncan looked confused. “You almost drowning, him saving your life.”
Her heart steadied, but only slightly. “Right,” she said.
“Okay, we’ll leave you to the brainstorming, unless you think you might benefit from our help?” Duncan shifted forward on his chair.
“No, that’s okay,” she said. What she meant was There’s no way I can think with Cody staring at me. “I do my best thinking when I’m alone.” She stood. “I can work a few ideas up and get them to you by Friday.”
She ignored the red flag waving at the back of her mind.
She had the Timmons anniversary party Friday night. She was overpromising. She might’ve even been overselling her abilities a little because she wanted to look good in front of the first boy she’d ever loved.
Great. She was officially a ninny. That’s what Maggie called girls who made senseless decisions because of boys. Ninnies. She’d never thought of herself as a ninny before, but here she was, acting like one.
Seconds later, she was walking both men toward the door. They said their goodbyes (she was very professional if she did say so herself), but as soon as they were gone, she dropped into the nearby armchair and buried her face in her hands.
This summer was turning out to be a disaster, and it wasn’t even June.
CHAPTER NINE
LATER THAT DAY, CODY STOOD IN THE KITCHEN of his small apartment, provided by the United States Coast Guard. He had unpacked his one duffel bag the day he arrived, but he’d yet to touch a single box or figure out a way to furnish the place. As it was, the only thing he’d had time to get was a bed, an armchair, and a small television.
It was quiet. Too quiet. And he hated it.
He called the base. Duncan answered. “Boggs, you’re off duty. Don’t you know how to relax?”
Cody didn’t say so, but no, he really didn’t.
“You live on an island. Go for a swim. Fish. Kayak. Go out with some of the guys. But you’re done working today.”
Cody couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like his master chief was still concerned about his well-being. As if he’d never rescued someone from the water before.
He was fine. Never mind that saving a life always reminded him of the ones he’d lost. He turned his arm over and studied the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—hash marks underneath two simple letters, D. B.—a painful but important reminder of why he chose this life in the first place.
Duncan hung up, and Cody plopped down in the lone armchair and sighed. He didn’t like sitting still. He needed to get out and do something. He changed into his running shorts and an old Nike T-shirt, tied his shoes, and headed out the door.
He’d run. That would clear his mind and give him a way to fill time for the next forty-five minutes or so. He’d figure out what to do with the rest of the day when he got back.
But ten minutes in, Cody realized running the streets of Nantucket didn’t clear his head; it clouded it. So many memories inched their way into his mind, and soon he found himself jogging toward their beach.
Not Brant Point, not the space where he and Louisa had made that ridiculous pact to meet on the day of their golden birthday, but their beach. His family’s beach. That’s what he’d called it after they moved into Seaside, because that’s how it had felt.