The Invisible Husband of Frick Island by Colleen Oakley (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📗

She cocked a sharp eyebrow, jerking her head back.

“No, that came out wrong. Of course I do. I’m so sorry, you have no idea. And I’m sorry that that’s what you thought this money was for,” Anders said, desperate for her to understand. But then he realized that he felt something else, too—something that felt a lot like anger. “You know what? I’m not sorry, actually! It’s ridiculous that anyone could be mad at someone for trying to help—to make your lives better. And it’s even more ridiculous how you all think you don’t need anyone. People want to help. Sometimes you just have to let them in.”

Piper growled one last time and then threw the check in Anders’s direction. He watched it flutter to the ground and then watched her turn on her heel and storm off, leaving Anders standing at his door. She turned the corner to the parking lot and he wondered if there was a cab waiting on her. If she was just going to take off and he’d never see her again. Defeated and simmering with anger, Anders bent down to pick up the check, before realizing that he’d rather be in the company of an angry Piper than no Piper at all. He ran up the walkway and turned, following her path, and then stopped short before he nearly ran into her, as she was stomping her way back to him.

“And another thing,” she said, sticking her index finger straight out from her hand, nearly poking Anders in the chest. Her nose flushed red with anger. “Tom did not kill himself. I don’t know who told you that. But it’s bullshit. He would never leave me on purpose. Never.”

Anders wasn’t sure what surprised him more—the fact that she’d cursed or that she had obviously listened to his podcast. He wanted to reach out and grab her hand, entwine it with his, pull her to him, but instead, he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I know,” he said.

“What?” Her finger remained between them, angrily pointing.

“I agree that no one would ever want to leave you.”

“Oh.” Her face softened and she curled her finger back into her fist and dropped her hand. “He said he’d never leave me. He swore it.” Her face crumpled and the tears came swiftly.

This time Anders followed his instinct to reach out for her. She fell into him and he just held her and let her cry, wetting the front of his down-filled coat with her sadness, and relief flowed through his veins at having her in his arms once again. Finally, when she started to calm down, she mumbled something, her face smushed against him, muting the words.

“What?”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” he repeated.

She extricated herself from Anders’s arms and the sudden emptiness left him bereft.

“The whole town is mad at you. Furious, really.”

“Everyone?”

Piper hedged. “BobDan. And Mrs. Olecki. Mostly Mrs. Olecki.”

Anders thought of her intimidating glares. “Well, she’s enough.”

Piper stared at the ground, kicking invisible pebbles. “People have been coming over to the island, you know. A lot of people, even though tourist season doesn’t start for another two months and nothing is open, including the bed-and-breakfast. They want to see the places you were talking about. The people.”

“I know it’s not the way you wanted, but this is a good thing. You guys can capitalize on it.”

Piper offered a half grin. “Mrs. Olecki already is. She’s charging people five dollars to get a picture with her. For ten dollars they get a frame.”

“See? And with this money, you could do so much more. Maybe get the ferry Jacob was talking about? Open a gift shop.”

“It’s not just up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you really want to give our town this money, you need to come ask them if they want it.”

Anders stared at her and swallowed. He’d never imagined giving away money would be quite so difficult.

—

BobDan crossed his arms and shifted his weight in the squeaky metal folding chair set up in the meeting room at the bottom of the church. Then he set his best glare on Anders, who was standing off to the side, waiting for Harold to call the meeting to order. He knew that boy was trouble from the moment he laid eyes on him. A reporter. He shook his head. Troublemaker more like it. And how! Even he couldn’t imagine the boy would have stooped so low. If Pearl hadn’t called Lady Judy, who told Shirlene, who told him all about Anders’s lies, he never would have believed it.

And he never would have brought the boy over on the boat this evening if it hadn’t been for Piper. She asked him, and against every bit of good sense in his brain, he begrudgingly agreed. He never had been able to say no to that girl. But he didn’t have to be happy about it. And he certainly didn’t have to talk to the boy. Or forgive him.

A scowl on his face, BobDan glanced around the room at the people lowering their heads together, murmuring back and forth, not a smile to be found. The mood hadn’t been this somber at a town meeting since they found Tom’s body. Nobody had even brought any cakes! Which was how he knew he wasn’t the only one who didn’t give a care what Anders had to say. The place was packed, though. Every single person in town had shown up for the same reason people slow down to look at a car accident. No one wanted to miss the gore, or worse, hear about it secondhand.

Harold finally knocked the gavel against the wooden podium. “This town hall meeting on Wednesday, March the third, is hereby called to begin. We only have one order of business on the table—”

“Two!”

“What?” Harold looked up at Lady Judy. “Oh, right. Lady Judy would like me to inform you that she has a new candle scent for the spring.”

“It’s called cucumber lemon mint. I brought