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“I didn’t expect to hear from you again,” he said, his voice flat.
“Is that right? That cop who stopped us on the street gave me an earful. He said Tom Adams, Sandra’s former boyfriend, told him you were in love with Lisa. Is that true? She’s your sister, right?”
“I’m in love with Lisa,” he said. “But we met and started dating before I knew she was my sister. My mother recognized her name and confessed she’d had an affair with Jack Smith and that I was his son. I told Lisa we were half-siblings, and she broke up with me. That should make you happy.”
“Why on earth would it make me happy, Ryan? That’s a heartbreaking story. I’m so sorry for both you and Lisa. But I wish you’d told me before we got involved—or how about not getting involved? I fought any attraction for months, and you were hell bent on intruding. Why’d you let that happen?”
“Because I know it’s hopeless for Lisa and me. She’s moving on with her life, and I’m moving on with mine.”
“I wish you’d have kept going instead of taking a detour to my bed.”
“Sorry, but that’s one thing I don’t regret. We are perfect together in bed.”
“It wasn’t all that, Ryan.”
“Bullshit, Laura. You’re kinky. I didn’t expect that.”
I looked at the phone and wanted to echo my previous goodbye to him by telling him to fuck off, but it was just easier to hang up on the guy. What a creep.
My next call was to Pam.
“Do you regret not going with Randy?” she asked after saying hello.
“No way. Because I’m going to call a realtor about looking at that cottage. Do you want to go with me?”
“You mean the one here? The beach shack?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yes! I’d love to go,” Pam said. “Thank you so much for asking me.”
“I’ll call you after I speak to the real estate agent.”
We said goodbye. I dug through my bag, looking for the agent’s name and number I had written on a scrap of paper.
The agent answered on the first ring. I introduced myself and told her what I was interested in.
“I was just going to put my answering machine on and call it a night. What can I tell you about the cottage?”
“I have a few questions. What kind of structural condition is it in?”
“It’s considered a tear-down,” she said. “There are only a few of the original storybook cottages left on Sea View.”
“My family owns cottages,” I said, thinking of Pam and Lisa, and unbelievably, Sandra Benson. “You can only tell one of them is a cottage. The other two had dramatic alterations. I don’t want to do that.”
“Nowadays, it’s not easy to get a permit to do too much exterior alteration unless you know someone on the historic board.”
“I plan on leaving it exactly as is on the outside, if I’m lucky enough to get it.”
“I have another appointment in Babylon at one. How about if I meet you at the cottage at eleven?”
“Eleven’s great,” I said. “See you then.”
I called Pam back to tell her I’d be there at ten-thirty and we could walk down together.
“Why don’t you come tonight? We can have breakfast and then go see your cottage.”
“Ha! You’re already calling it my cottage. I guess that’s a good omen.”
