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  Fade to Blue

  An Otter Bay Novel

  Julie Carobini

  Copyright © 2011 by Julie Carobini

  All rights reserved

  Originally published by B&H Publishing Group

  eBook edition by Dolphin Gate Books

  ISBN: 978-0-9990927-1-2

  Smashwords Edition

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Julie Carobini writes novels set by the sea. RT Book Reviews says, “Carobini has a talent for creating characters that come alive.” Julie lives in California with her family and loves all things coastal (except sharks). For a free ebook, sign up on her website: www.juliecarobini.com/free-book

  To everyone in need of a second chance,

  and to the Good Shepherd who provides them.

  In loving memory of Alice M. Carobine,

  beloved wife, mother, and grandmother.

  Thank you for leaving such a rich legacy of love.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Other Titles by Julie Carobini

  Discussion Questions

  Chapter One

  The fumes had overtaken me. There could be no other explanation. Of all the people I might have imagined seeing today through the windows of this graying warehouse, Seth Russo hadn’t made the top ten. Not even the top ten thousand.

  A ladder stretching two stories high cast a long shadow across the workstations, and over my heart. Memories of the life I once led and the one I longed for still—stable, nurturing, and uneventful—flashed onto the screen of my mind as sure as that man on the ladder resembled Seth. And yet I knew it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. If it was, how could I face him again after all the mistakes I’d made?

  “He’ll be done soon enough, Suzi-Q.” My mentor’s voice startled me, and I forced myself to refocus on the job before us. Fred’s round eyes peered over his wire rims, “All those northerly windows are a blessing to the artists, but when the sea winds kick up sand and dirt, they can be a curse too.”

  I nodded before flicking another glance toward those windows. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe the stranger only resembled my first love. Surely the aromatic swirl of oil paints and glossy finishes could have such an effect on a person. I drew in a shaky breath and tried again to focus on my boss at my side.

  With his cherry red cheeks, featherlike white hair, and round spectacles, Fred Abbott, art conservator and my new boss, reminded me of jolly old Saint Nick. Considering the array of raw materials spread all around us on every shelf and tabletop, this drab building could pass for a toy shop too. Without all the elves and hilarity, of course.

  “Now see these here?” He pointed to a tray of metal tools in varying degrees of size and sharpness. “Each one has a purpose all its own.” He placed a cold strip of metal in my hand. “Go ahead and roll it around in your palm.”

  I glanced at the object, trying to memorize its size and shape while also predicting the type of work I might use it for some time. “It’s heavy.”

  He nodded. “That it is. You’ll want to use that mainly for wood. If you try to wield it across anything lighter, you’ll be in danger of damaging the piece.”

  Heavy. Has its own purpose. Got it. There was something decidedly comforting in knowing and understanding one’s purpose. After what felt like a lifetime of anguish, I had determined mine and taken the steps necessary to see it through.

  I would not—could not—stop until I provided a safe, uncomplicated life for my son. And for myself.

  Outside, the ladder scraped across metal, sending out a high-pitched screech. It took all my willpower not to turn and gawk at the man again, the one who carried a bucket and wielded a squeegee. A turn in my stomach made me want to bolt, but I fought it off. If I didn’t turn soon, though, I might continue the notion that the man I left in haste all those years ago had found his way to Otter Bay. The idea was . . . well, it was crazy.

  My nose tickled. “Ah . . . achoo!”

  A whirling concoction of fuchsia-colored fabric and cinnamon-laced perfume lofted into the studio and landed next to me. Letty and I had met less than a week before, yet who could tell? She was blunt and honest, too much so to mess with surface pleasantries. She had given me the two-minute version of her life story—thirty-five, of Spanish descent, and devoted to her art—then assessed me in one long, flowing stroke.

  “You are a people pleaser. And you have stars in your eyes.” She reached over and thumbed through my portfolio, the one I’d pulled together in a valiant effort to acquire a job restoring art at the famed Hearst Castle. “Mercy, you can paint, though.”

  I let her believe what she wanted. No need to tell her the gritty details of my past. In the brief time we had known each other, Letty made biding my time here as a restoration artist apprentice much easier. Failure to move to the next level—which included permanent employment and the loss of the word apprentice behind my job title—was not an option.

  Now Letty stood close, her black hair wrapped in a chocolate-tinted scarf, the spiciness of her perfume tickling my nose. “You do sushi?”

  I sniffled. “I can honestly tell you I do not.”

  “Do not what?”

  “Do sushi.”

  “Well. It is a shame.”

  I owed her a snappy comeback, but my attention stood divided. How stupid. What was I thinking? That man could not be Seth. Seth’s hair had length and wave and, well, it was always rather moppish. A trademark look for him. But this man wore his hair short in soft spikes.

  To better highlight his eyes.

  I swallowed my own gasp and flashed Letty a stilted grin. “But I’m happy to give sushi a try. For you.”

  She puckered her nose and mouth. “Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

  “Come on, Letty. You angry with me?”

  She plunked herself into a chair and twirled the fringed edge of her scarf. “Me, mad? No, no. I just like to see you squirm.” She rested her chin on curled fingers. “You are such a Goody-Two-shoes. I will break you of this yet.”

  I laughed and slid a look at Fred, who only offered a brief shrug and no comment. “Oh, brother. Who says ‘Goody-Two-shoes’ anymore? And
what does that have to do with eating sushi anyway?”

  “Was that a spark of fire that crossed your face?” she asked, her voice nearly-taunting me. She turned to our boss. “I think I may have finally offended our Suz here.”

  Fred scratched his head, leaving a plume of feathery hair to stand aloft on his crown. “Doesn’t look offended to me. Did you want to offend my newest apprentice?”

  Letty leaned back and laughed into the rafters before jerking herself upright. “Okay, you and I are going to do some sushi. Tonight. I know the cheapest dive in town. The only place I can afford. Well, it is the only place I ever dine out.”

  Fred’s mouth quirked downward in defeat. “I think this would be a good time for a break, Suz. I’ll return in twenty minutes with a picture of the cabin, if you’re interested.” He shuffled off.

  Letty’s dark eyes narrowed. “Cabin?”

  “I’m hoping to move soon, and Fred mentioned that he and his wife own a cabin they rent out.”

  “The one in the woods?” Letty’s voice rose. “Isn’t that occupied?”

  “The renters are leaving soon. A job transfer, I think.”

  I set down the tool I’d been rolling over and over in my hand until every bit of its cold surface turned warm. Letty watched me in silence for once, her eyes piercing, as if wanting to know more about my desire for new digs. The reason was simple, but I wasn’t about to divulge it. Not now.

  “Tell you what. I promised Jeremiah I’d take him to the Red Abalone Grill tonight. Not so sure about sushi being on the menu, but everything’s good. Want to come?”

  She hesitated, her usually expressive face a mask. “Sure he won’t mind me butting in on your date?”

  “He’s four. He’ll get over it.”

  She sighed, the lines of her face softening. “The elbows on the table, the toothless grin, the eating with the mouth open . . . Hmm, it has been a long time since I have had dinner with a man.” She smoothed a hand across the surface of the workbench. “I will take it.”

  “Hey, thanks for all the compliments on my parenting skills.” Even as I said it, a slight twist tugged at my insides. “See you at six thirty?”

  A thump against the wall drew our attention to that expanse of windows. Seth’s look-alike stood at the base of the extended ladder and slid it sideways, his eyes drawn upward. Shadows played down the length of his arms exposed at the elbows by upturned sleeves, his muscles moving reflexively. I remembered the strength in Seth’s arms when he held me in his embrace. He was always a hugger, the kind of man who’d pull you close and hug like it meant something to him.

  A shiver of warmth traveled through me and I flinched. What am I thinking, letting my mind wander back like that? Those days lay buried—as they should.

  “My,” Letty said without answering my question. “I think I need to call a man about some windows.”

  “Really?” I almost didn’t recognize the breezy, distracted tone of my own voice. “Thought your landlady had the whole house done last weekend. Or did they miss your room?”

  Letty’s black eyes flashed. She pushed her chin forward. “I do not rent a room. It is a cabana, Suz. A cabana.”

  Letty felt embarrassed about her rooming situation. Check. At least she could say she paid her own way and didn’t have to rely on a generous older brother to provide shelter for her. And her child. “It was a joke. Sorry.”

  Letty batted a hand. “No apologies. Just consider yourself lucky. If I had not committed to dinner with you and that little one of yours, I might have turned to a handsome window washer instead.”

  “Well then, I must live right.” I stuffed down rising alarm over Letty’s interest in the man who reminded me of my past.

  She fixed her eyes on the windows again. “Then again . . .” Letty gaped at me. “Can you explain why that guy is ogling you?”

  Until now I had been toying with thoughts from the past the way a cat bats at a ball of string. I’d been musing about the man outside the window, wondering if he could be my old love yet unwilling to garner his attention, examine his face, and come to a conclusion. Were my wanderings brought on by a life not working according to plan, not to mention the finger-numbing hours spent in this stark warehouse? Or had Seth somehow managed to land in the same small town as I had just a few months ago?

  The man stopped his work and peered through the window, one strong arm still propped against the ladder, the other pressed against clean glass. And I knew . . . it was him.

  The diner bustled for a Tuesday night. As usual, Mimi wove in and around booths, swinging a coffeepot, but both Peg, the diner’s owner, and her niece Holly, who helped run the place, still hung around.

  Holly pulled up in front of us at the hostess stand, gathering menus. “The three of you tonight? Then follow me.” She whisked us to an open table along the side wall where windows offered a glimpse of the bubble and churn of the sea. Though fall had begun, the sun had yet to make its descent.

  “Hey there, Jeremiah. Bet you’d like some hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.”

  Jer looked at me for quick approval, and when he received it, he nodded vigorously at Holly.

  She laughed. “All right, and for you, ladies? Suz, you usually like chai about now, am I right?”

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  “I’ve seen your friend around town but never in here before.” She smacked her order pad on the table and reached out a hand. “I’m Holly. Welcome to my home away from home.”

  “Thank you. Letty. And I will have a cup of your strongest coffee. Black.”

  Holly nodded, then picked up her order pad again, drawing my attention to her unusual clothing. I was glad for the distraction. Since spotting Seth this afternoon, I’d thought of little else. “You’re not wearing your uniform tonight, Holly. Pretty dress. Going somewhere?”

  A blush crossed her face and she dropped in a minicurtsy. “Thanks for noticin’. Yeah, I’ve got a date.” She glanced over toward the kitchen. “Tryin’ to get out of here, but my aunt Peg’s got a bee up her bonnet tonight for some reason.”

  “Sorry to hear it.”

  “Eh. It’s less and less these days so you won’t hear me complainin’. I already went home once but she called me back. Anyway, I hope to get to the back office soon.” She patted her head. “Have to do somethin’ with this mess of hair.”

  Letty leaned forward, her face animated. “Tell me you are kidding! Don’t you know how much women pay to have hair like that? No, no, no, do not give in to the comb and brush. Just leave that tousled look as is.”

  Holly smiled. “You think?”

  “I do not think—I know.”

  “Well, then. Thank you. Considerin’ he’s pickin’ me up here any sec, I’m relieved to hear it.” Her smile brightened. “I’ll be back in a New York minute with all your drinks.”

  Letty glanced at me. “That was fun.”

  “She’s a character. With that bubbly personality of hers, Holly’s known for snagging all the eligible surfers in town, but she’s too precious to resent.” I tipped my head to the side. “Not like I’m into chasing surfers or anything.”

  Jer bounced on the vinyl booth. “She’s nice. She makes good pancakes—with whipped cream!”

  Letty’s eyes flashed wide. “Whipped cream? Maybe I will have to order that for my dinner.”

  Jer dropped his head in an avalanche of giggles. “You can’t have whipped cream for dinner.” He poked me with one tiny forefinger. “Tell her, Mama. Whipped cream is only for dessert.”

  “And breakfast?” Letty asked.

  Jer smacked himself in the face with his hands. “Oh yeah. For breakfast!”

  Holly appeared with three drinks on a tray. “Here we go. Jer, your chocolate is just the right temp’rature for you.” She served us our drinks. “I’ll be takin’ your orders now, and Mimi will be bringin’ them to you. But don’t you worry, you’ll be in good hands.”

  After scribbling down our orders, she took off in a hurr
y. I played with the handle of my mug but didn’t take a sip. Jeremiah ate two marshmallows off the top of his drink.

  Letty stared. “You want to talk about the window washer with the sizzling eyes?” She leaned into the table, zeroing in on me. “The one who ran off like a wounded buck after taking one long look at you?”

  Jer slurped his chocolate. “What’s a buck?”

  Letty patted his hand. “A wild animal. Drink your chocolate, honey.”

  I took a sip, allowing myself time to answer, but I knew she wouldn’t let up. “He’s . . . he was an old friend.” I sighed. “We didn’t part on very good terms, though.”

  “But I thought you weren’t from around here.”

  “I’m not.”

  A coy smile raised the corner of her mouth. “So, perhaps he followed you.”

  I shook my head. “Not possible. He didn’t know I was here. It’s all just a . . . a fluke.”

  Jer had already emptied half his mug of chocolate, much of it on his upper lip. “What’s a fluke?”

  Letty thrust out her chin. “There is no such thing, young Jeremiah. Everything is part of the plan with a capital P. The man upstairs—he knows what he’s doing.”

  Jer scrunched up his face. “What man’s upstairs?”

  “I meant God, Jeremiah.”

  My son furrowed his baby soft brow. Fluke or chance, it was a deep concept to explain to a four-year-old. “She means that God is in complete control of our lives and that we shouldn’t worry about things that happen.” The words fell off my tongue like a rote prayer, making me wonder if I believed it. I looked to her. “Isn’t that right, Letty?”

  “Yes. Amen. Make sure you always believe that.” Letty watched me. “So. Will you be talking to him?”

  “You mean like make amends?”

  “That is one way to break the ice, I guess. I would stick an olive branch in my teeth if it meant I would be invited up close and personal to a handsome one like that.”

  I allowed myself a brief smile but shook my head. “It’s been too many years. We were kids who fell in love before our time, and that look you saw on his face told me all I needed to know.”