This wedding was getting worse by the minute. "I'll try," I said, with little enthusiasm, wondering when I had suddenly become so important that I needed to be part of everything. I'd spent most of my life being overlooked.
My older sister, Brooklyn, came up the stairs. Brooklyn was three years older than me and four years older than Kelsey, and she'd been trying to manage both our lives since we were born, although she'd given up on me a long time ago. She and Kelsey had much more in common, including the fact that they looked very much alike with their blonde hair and blue eyes, while I'd inherited my father's dark hair and brown eyes. Brooklyn gave us an irritated look.
"Kelsey, Willow, what are you doing up here?" she asked.
"Willow is seasick," Kelsey replied, making me her entire reason for being on deck, which wasn't true. But I sensed she didn't want me to say anything about Carter, which only made me more suspicious of what I'd witnessed between them.
Brooklyn's sharp gaze landed on me in an accusing fashion, as if I was conspiring to keep Kelsey away from her friends. "Didn't you take something, Willow?"
"I forgot."
She gave a long-suffering sigh. "Well, that figures. Anyway, I need you both downstairs. We want to do another toast and take photos."
"Sorry, but I'm going to stay up here until we dock," I said.
"It's not always about you, Willow."
I bit back a laugh at Brooklyn's comment. "Believe me, I know that."
"It's fine," Kelsey cut in. "There will be plenty more toasts and photos before the end of the week."
Brooklyn shot me a dark look, then went down the stairs. Kelsey gave me a tentative smile. "I know you're worried, but everything is going to be okay, Willow."
"I hope so, Kelsey. I want you to have the happiest day of your life."
"I really want that, too."
As Kelsey left, I turned back to the horizon, my gaze following a hawk as it circled over the island. I used to love watching the red-tailed hawks soar through the trees, with their wild warning screeches to the other animals to stay away from their nests, from their territory.
I'd followed the hawks all over the island. But after Melanie's disappearance, every time I saw the birds, I'd worried that they were leading me to a discovery that was both wanted and terrifying. It had been a relief to leave the island behind.
Now that worry had returned. But it had been ten years, I reminded myself. Nothing new would be discovered now. I was going back to the island for a wedding. I would replace the bad memories with good ones, and maybe it was time to do that. Maybe I needed to face the past, so I could finally let go of it.
Chapter Two
When the ferry docked, I was the first one off. It felt amazing to have solid ground beneath my feet. As I waited for the others to disembark, I glanced around the harbor. Almost all the slips were full. Apparently, the rough seas had kept most of the pleasure-seekers in port. But that didn't mean they were staying inside. Tourists crowded the long pier, shopping for souvenirs, grabbing a gelato, a coffee, visiting the arcade, or the photo booth where they could pose for funny shots with their friends and family.
I'd loved the pier since the day I first set foot on it. And I'd spent a lot of time at the harbor because Melanie's parents, Sylvie and Holt Maddox, owned the two-story building at the beginning of the pier with the big colorful pink sign for the Crab Pot.
Holt was an ex-Marine turned fisherman, who spent his early mornings catching the day's specials. Sylvie cooked those specials up with her own special blend of French and Portuguese spices. The restaurant was often the first stop for ferry-goers arriving on the island and the last stop before they headed back to wherever they'd come from.
I'd spent a lot of time in that restaurant, helping Melanie bus tables when it got busy. I'd never minded the work. I'd loved the loud, warm, friendly restaurant, and I didn't care that Sylvie paid me in crab cakes. I hadn't needed the money, but I had needed the love.
I could get lost in my family, but I always felt like there was a place for me at the Crab Pot. Sylvie was a nurturing woman with a big heart and a generous spirit. She treated every kid on the island like they were her own, and I'd savored the attention she'd given me. But while Sylvie had been welcoming, Holt, Melanie's dad, had been the opposite.
Holt was a rigid, cold man, who barely cracked a smile unless he was swapping stories with one of his fishing buddies. The rest of the time, he appeared unemotional and detached. Melanie had told me he suffered from PTSD, that little things could trigger him, make him think he was under attack. That's why he always had a tight grip on himself, and on his surroundings. She'd said it had been worse when the family lived in Seattle, when there was too much noise, too many sounds to trigger him. His condition had gotten much better when they'd moved to the island when Melanie was seven.
I'd felt sorry for Holt, but I'd never really warmed up to him. And that last summer, Melanie had been fighting him about every little thing she wanted to do. It was tragically ironic that the girl, who probably had the most overprotective father of all, had been the one to disappear.
I turned my head away from the restaurant as Rachel Connelly walked down the dock. A dark redhead with fair skin and a smattering of light freckles across her cheeks, Rachel was the epitome of beautiful sophistication. She wasn't a model like Kelsey, but she worked in marketing for a fashion house in New York, and her clothes were always cutting edge. Rachel's family also summered on the island, and our parents were close friends. But while Rachel had tolerated me as Kelsey and Brooklyn's sister, we'd never been close. I'd actually been surprised when she'd taken the time to check on me while we were on the ferry. Although, in retrospect, that had only happened because Brooklyn had sent her to get me.
"Are you feeling better?" Rachel asked.
"I'm better now that I'm off the boat."
"You still look pale. Or is that just because you're still anti-makeup?" Rachel asked with dry amusement.
"I'm not anti-makeup anymore, and if I look pale, it's not only because of the boat ride. I feel weird being back here. But I seem to be the only one."
Rachel waved a dismissive hand in the air. "I've been back many times before, so it's not weird to me. I suppose it will feel a little different this time with all of us in the same place. It makes me think about the past, about our summers together."
"I really don't want to think about the past, but I can't stop myself."
"Well, try to think about the happy times. It's important to make sure that Kelsey feels nothing but love and happiness this week."
Rachel's warning reminded me of another reason we'd never been good friends. Like Brooklyn, Rachel enjoyed giving unsolicited advice, and she could be extremely judgmental.
"What is taking so long?" Rachel complained, as she impatiently tapped her foot.
Despite her recent words to show nothing but happiness, she seemed out of sorts.
"Is something wrong, Rachel?"
"No, of course not."
"You're sure?"
She shrugged, giving me an annoyed look. "Fine. I'm concerned about James and Brooklyn being together again."