Before she could talk herself out of it, she slid her feet into slippers and donned the robe at the foot of her bed. She had a master key that would let her in, and she rummaged in her handbag for it, then headed to the door.
She paused at the sound of someone moving around in the next room. Her dad was up too? She pushed open the unlocked connecting door and poked her head into the living room. “Dad?”
Fully clothed, he sat on the sofa. “What are you doing up?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She told him about the run-in with her aunt.
“I’ll talk to her in the morning and tell her not to repeat it.”
“I doubt she’ll listen.” She took a step into the room. “You mentioned our old living quarters are unoccupied. I’m going to go see them.”
His blue eyes went wide. “For what purpose?”
“I want to remember Mom. I want to find some closure. Eighteen years is long enough.”
“Very well. I’ll go with you.”
Torie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. The thought of going in there made the air stall in her lungs.
Her dad didn’t give her a chance to refuse. He opened the door for her, and they stepped out into an empty hall. It was only when they were outside the door that she realized she should have gotten dressed in case her dad was successful in convincing Aunt Genevieve to keep quiet. It was too late now though. Security cameras would have captured her running the halls in her nightgown and robe with hotel owner Anton Bergstrom.
Her slippers sank into the thick hall carpet, and she slowed her steps as the big wood door to the apartment neared. This had been her idea, but now her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. There was no reason for her claustrophobia to be acting up. The hall was well lit, and she didn’t feel trapped. But her lungs labored, and she wanted to run.
She forced her lips to move. “I have a master key.”
Her dad stood back while she unlocked the door. When she didn’t move forward, he reached past her and flipped on the light switches. With the shadows gone, she moved into the space. The bright illumination pushed back the darkness, revealing a room where nothing had changed in eighteen years. The same white sofa stood in the same spot near the fireplace. The gold armchairs showed no signs of wear. Even the vases with artificial flowers were in their spots on the mantel.
“It’s like a time warp,” she whispered. “I can almost see Mom out on the balcony with a glass of wine. Why have you never updated it and rented it out?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to have her things thrown out like so much flotsam.” Her dad’s voice sounded strained and off. “I could have rented it for two thousand a night, but the thought of someone living where we’d had so much happiness was more than I could stand.” He wandered across the thick white carpet to the fireplace to pick up a silver framed photograph of Torie playing Monopoly with him and her mom.
She trailed after him and stared at the picture in his hand. They all looked impossibly happy. Her gap-toothed smile and innocent eyes had been a lifetime ago.
Her dad put it back on the mantel. “This was taken the week before your mom died.”
“I remember.”
Her dad stared at her. “How much do you remember of that night?”
“I was being a brat. I wanted her to take me swimming, and she had a headache. I stomped out into the hall.” She hadn’t talked about this in years. Those memories were too painful.
“I-I heard a scream and ran back in. I couldn’t find her, and I went out onto the balcony. People were yelling, and I looked over the side. I recognized her red dress on the concrete below, and I hid in a closet. I don’t remember which one.”
He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Torie.”
Her cheeks were wet, though she didn’t remember crying. She swiped her face. “Lisbeth always said if I’d talk about it, I could get over it.”
“The closet was in our room.”
Her dad started in that direction, and she had no choice but to follow even though she wasn’t ready. Her feet felt wooden as she forced herself to step into the bedroom. A blue silk bedspread still covered the king bed, at least what you could see beneath the mound of pillows. She’d forgotten that detail—her mom loved pillows. The more the better. Torie had often made forts with them and hid from her parents.
Her gaze went to the walk-in closet door, and she forced herself to step to it and turn the doorknob.
She gasped at the scent of her mother’s perfume. The blouse she touched was silk. “What was the perfume she loved? I remember the smell but not the name.”
“Clive Christian No. 1. She loved the jasmine and pineapple tones in it.”
She caught the note of suffering in his voice, but a picture began to form in her head. A little girl crouched on the right side of the closet near all her mother’s shoes. She’d tried to hide in the shoeboxes.
She tried to turn her attention back to her father, but it was a struggle. “I shouldn’t have let you come with me. This is hard for you.”
“Cathartic too. And I’ve wanted to tell you that I’ve finally met someone. A lovely woman I think you’ll like. When we get back to Scottsdale, I’ll introduce you.”
Her dad was finally moving on. Now if only Torie could.
Chapter 20
The scent of a storm in the air made Joe’s nose twitch, but the blue sky held only puffy clouds.
The storm forecast wasn’t until midafternoon. Long enough to get down to the reef and enjoy a two-tank dive. The rental boat banged along on the choppy waves, but Joe knew where he was going and made a beeline for the yellow buoy. Once they were down there, the choppiness wouldn’t be a problem. It would be smooth going.
He had to focus on the sea foam to avoid staring at Torie in her cute one-piece turquoise suit. Diving was his favorite pastime, and being able to share it with her was a dream come true. For just a moment last night when he was saying good-bye, he’d thought he saw a flash of longing in her eyes. Unless it was his imagination. He wouldn’t rule out that possibility.
He throttled back the engine, then turned it off. “We’re here.” His text message notification went off, and he picked up his phone. “Oh no, Danielle says Simon got out of his enclosure.”
“Do we need to go back?”
The sea lion had gotten out a few times before, but he always came back. He’d been born in an enclosure so it was home.
He shook his head. “He’ll come back on his own. I don’t want to miss our dive.”
She moved to toss over the anchor. “I haven’t been diving in a year. I can’t wait.”
“Need a refresher course?”
She shook her head. “I’ve gone a million times. Or something like that.”
Gosh, she was pretty with the sunlight gleaming on her dark-brown hair. She had her hair in a tighter braid than usual, which hung down her back. Her brown eyes glowed with anticipation. He’d like to think being with him had brought at least one little sparkle.
After she stuffed her hair in her cap, he held out her buoyancy compensation device and helped her put it on. He might have taken his time just so he could smell her light scent a little while longer, but he wouldn’t admit it if she asked.