The Lakeside Inn, Leeanna Morgan [rosie project TXT] 📗

“Mabel’s keeping everyone up to date with what’s happening on the community Facebook page. She even added a picture of the dresser.”

Ethan had warned him that Mabel knew everything that was happening in Sapphire Bay. The community Facebook page had become her primary way of sharing information with the rest of the town. He had no problem with her telling everyone about her own family. But, from what he’d seen, she sometimes went a little far when she shared information about other people.

“Don’t be so worried,” Ethan assured him. “She’s doing it for the right reasons. Mabel’s hoping someone will read the posts and know something about her grandfather.”

The chance of that happening was fairly low, but he knew how much it meant to Penny and her family to solve the mystery of their ancestor’s disappearance. “We were hoping there would be something in the dresser that would tell us what happened to him.”

“Judging by the comments at the bottom of the post, so was half of Sapphire Bay. Don’t be surprised if Mabel shows up today. She wants to do a post about the murals.”

Wyatt took two cans of paint off the truck. “We’d better get started, then. How many volunteers are here?”

“Fifteen. They’re hanging the stencils on the wall as we speak.”

A few days ago, Wyatt had met with a group of volunteers and explained the next stage of the painting process. The teams had already decided on the design of the murals and made draft images. With the help of the volunteers, he’d transferred their ideas to stencils, and they were now ready to be hung this morning. After that, it was only a matter of filling in the gaps.

“You should know that Jack and Richard aren’t here.”

That surprised Wyatt. “When I saw them last week, they were excited about the project. What’s happened?” He left the first two cans of paint in the shade of a tree and returned to the truck for more.

“Richard isn’t doing too well. The new pain medication his doctor prescribed is causing other issues. He’s had to stop taking it.”

“Is there something else he can have?”

“That’s what his doctor is looking into now. But, in the meantime, he’s using his wheelchair a lot more. That’s causing other issues that aren’t pain-related.”

Ethan didn’t need to explain what he meant. Wyatt had already seen the difference it made to Richard when he was standing upright. He had more confidence and a more balanced view of the world. When he was sitting in the wheelchair, it seemed to dominate his personality and make him feel less than who he was.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Once everyone knows what they’re doing, I could supervise the teams while you talk to him. Jack doesn’t understand what’s happening to his dad and that makes the situation even worse.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“I’d appreciate it. How’s the portrait coming along?”

“Slowly. I’m concentrating on my other paintings at the moment. Don’t tell me Mabel’s updating everyone about that, as well?”

“Nope. On that matter, her lips are sealed.”

Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’ll have to tell everyone who you are sooner or later.”

The paintbrushes landed on the ground beside the paint. “I’d rather it be later.”

“Does Penny know who you are?”

“She knows I paint using the name W.J. Johnson, and she knows about Anya.”

“Everything about her?”

Wyatt refused to look at his friend. If he did, Ethan would know he hadn’t told Penny the entire truth.

Ethan stood beside him with his hands on his hips. “We talked about this.”

“No. You talked about my inability to deal with Anya’s death. It’s not easy telling someone you care about that you killed your wife.”

“You didn’t kill her. It was a tragic accident.”

“An accident that was my fault. If I’d paid more attention to the road, she wouldn’t be dead.”

“Would it have made you feel better if you’d been left with serious injuries?”

Wyatt glared at his friend. “If you’d asked me that three years ago, I would have said yes. But I doubt even death could have made me feel less guilty for what I did.”

“And now?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not my psychiatrist.”

“Maybe I should have been.”

Wyatt strode back to the truck and handed Ethan two more cans of paint. “What if Penny thinks I’m the jerk I used to be?”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Do you know how much I hate it when you answer a question with another question?”

“Sometimes it’s the only way to make you question what you’re saying.” Ethan frowned. “From what I’ve seen and what you’ve told me, Penny likes you. Maybe you should give her the benefit of the doubt and trust that she knows you better than you think she does.”

“What if she doesn’t know me?”

“Then you need to show her who you are.”

Wyatt’s heart sank. That would mean letting her into the deepest, darkest part of who he was. And that person scared him more than pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

An hour later, Wyatt knocked on the door to Richard and Jack’s tiny home.

When Jack opened the door, his little face was so sad that Wyatt wanted to give him a hug.

“We can’t help you today. Dad’s leg is sore.”

“That’s okay. We’re only outlining the design. There’ll be plenty of time for you to paint the mural. I came to see how you are.”

Richard wheeled himself to the door. “I thought I heard your voice. I’m sorry about today. It’s not a good time.”

“That’s okay. How are you feeling?”

Richard frowned. “I’m okay.”

“Ethan said if you want Jack to help with the art project, he’ll look after him and bring him home after we’ve finished.”

The hopeful expression on Jack’s face was heartbreaking. “Please, Dad. I’d really like to go.”

Richard looked at his son. “Ethan will be busy doing other things.”

“It’s okay,” Wyatt assured him. “There’s plenty of staff from The Welcome Center helping.”

Jack’s hand tightened on the arm of his dad’s wheelchair. “Please, Dad. I’ll be good.”

Reluctantly, Richard nodded. “All right, but you need to come