“Water is fine.” He placed the sandwiches on the plates and took them to the table.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. “I have an ulterior motive for showing up here,” Rory said between bites.
“I’m listening.”
“I wondered if you might like to go out with me tomorrow night.”
“Another date?”
“Yeah. Thought we might take in a movie in Bangor, a little cheer-you-up adventure. Might even show you the house where I grew up.”
Peggy listened to Rory’s voice, a deeply sensual voice that made her feel excited and happy. After he’d left the other night, she wasn’t sure she’d hear from him again. She’d consoled herself with the idea that not seeing him was probably just as well, given her health concerns and his earlier attitude. “A movie in Bangor? Sounds nice.”
“You haven’t asked what’s playing,” he said, humor showing through his words.
“You have one in mind, I assume,” she countered.
“Do you like Woody Allen?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re off to the movies tomorrow. I haven’t been to a movie since I got back from Haiti. I’ve missed going into the theater, loading up on popcorn and a soft drink and settling in with nothing to do but stare straight ahead at a screen.”
“You don’t take in the story?” she asked.
“Of course I do. I just meant that it’s relaxing to have nothing else to focus on.”
“I get it.” She nodded. “You probably fall asleep somewhere near the middle of the movie.”
“Wait and see,” he said, pointing his finger at her playfully.
They made plans for him to pick her up around five the next afternoon. He left shortly after, having cleaned up the kitchen for her. As she watched him, she had to admit that although he had appeared to take her health concerns lightly the other night, he’d gone out of his way to take her mind off her worries.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY Rory had a client outside town, not far from where his mother had spent her summers on Cranberry Point. The road wound around the cliffs leading up from the ocean. The breeze was warm and filled with the scent of pine and saltwater.
The home he was going to belonged to Shelly Webster, a woman known around Eden Harbor as willing to give her money to good causes, who wintered in Palm Springs and spent her summers in Eden Harbor.
He spotted the stone pillars that marked her driveway, slowed down and drove up the long, tree-lined corridor to a large brick mansion covered with Engelman ivy reaching its leafy tentacles into the rough edges of the brick. He’d agreed to build a gazebo for her. When he pulled up into the garage area, Shelly appeared from the backyard. Rory hopped out of his truck and came around to greet her.
“I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been quite a long time making up my mind on what I wanted. But your lovely diagrams made the decision for me. The lumber you ordered arrived earlier and I had them place it where the gazebo is to go.”
She turned and walked into the back garden, chatting about the luncheon she attended that morning, her diamonds sparkling in the sunlight, her perfectly coiffured hair and expensive suit stating emphatically that money was no object.
Rory couldn’t help but contrast Shelly’s life with those of the women in Haiti he’d become friends with. The perfumed air of the garden floated around them as they walked along the path, past copper sundials and statuary that complemented the ambitious landscaping plan.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, her smile warm. “I had a landscaping company in Portsmouth do the design and installation.”
Her words made him wonder why she hired him. He didn’t have credentials other than the recommendation of a few locals, none in her financial league. “It’s extraordinary,” he said, searching his memory for a garden in Haiti even close to this one. The president’s palace may have had such gardens, but if so he hadn’t seen them.
Rory was pretty sure that the yearly upkeep of this place would go quite a way toward funding another orphanage in Haiti. “I’m wondering why you hired me to do this work when you have people you’ve dealt with before who would be guaranteed to do a good job.”
“Good question.” She turned to him. “I’ve decided to buy local wherever I can, and you were highly recommended by Ned Tompkins at the grocery store. You built a deck for him.”
“I did.” He watched her, wondering if he should approach her about the fund-raiser for Haiti he was hoping to organize here in Eden Harbor. The one for the fire station had gone so well, he wanted to give it a try. “I spent time in Haiti, helping out with reconstruction. I hope to go back there someday.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I plan to do a fund-raiser here, but I need local support. Would you be interested?”
She glanced at him, her expression guarded. “I thought Haiti had all the money it needed. Gracious, I remember the money pouring in from everywhere after the earthquake. Surely that’s enough.” She fingered the diamond pendant at her throat.
He tamped down his annoyance, realizing that the media coverage suggested that there was a lot of money going into Haiti. “No. The devastation is incredible. It’s almost unbelievable.”
“What’s involved?” Shelly asked.
“Well, I’d like to run a silent auction and a live auction like they did for the fire station. A dinner and dance would certainly attract people in the area.”
She eyed him.
He waited.
“Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, I want you to build me a beautiful gazebo. If you do, I’ll do everything I can to make your fund-raiser a success. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said, surprised. Grant Williams would be pleased to know that there would be more money for the plans he had for another orphanage.
“If you like, we can meet to discuss it while you’re building the gazebo. Does that work for you?”
“It sure does,” he said, adjusting his tool belt as he inspected the lumber. Getting her support had been much easier than he’d expected, making him pleased he’d acted so quickly.
* * *
THAT AFTERNOON PEGGY had just finished styling her hair and applying lipstick when Rory’s truck roared up the driveway. She smoothed her blue flowered top with the drawstring neck and the short blue skirt over her body one last time. She slipped on her navy blue sandals, grabbed her cream jacket and purse, locked the back door and went outside.
He jumped out of his truck, a wide grin on his face.
“Well, aren’t we eager to get to the movie...or maybe to see my handsome face,” he teased, reaching into the back of the truck and pulling out a large bag of carrots. “Just a week ago I was doing a little work for a lady who likes to garden. I told her about your horses.” He hefted a bag of fresh carrots over to the back step and put them down.
“No! Not there. Come with me,” she said, leading the way to the barn. “We can’t leave treats like that out where other creatures can find them.” She opened the barn door and pointed to a huge metal container near the horse stalls.
He placed the bag in the can, dusted off his hands before turning to her. “So now you owe me.”
“Owe you what?” She looked at him suspiciously.
“Thought that would get your interest. Truth is I’m being kind to your horses. Trying to win them over. But if you’d like, you can repay me someday.” He winked at her. “Or you could simply say thank you very much.”
She smiled. “Thank you. And oh, by the way, the next time you bring my horses something, I’ll give you a free riding lesson.”
“As much as I like new experiences, that’s not on the list. Horses and I don’t mix.”
“You mean great big you is afraid of horses as calm and caring as Zeus and Suzie?”
“Thanks for the compliment... I think. It is my duty to inform you that big doesn’t always mean fearless.”
She couldn’t help but laugh a
t him.
“You look so much better when you laugh,” he said, taking her chin in his hands and kissing her lightly on the lips. “You look a little like Claudette Colbert in The Egg and I.”
“Who’s she?”
“A legendary actress from the 1940s.”
“You’re that old?”
“Very funny,” he chided her, but there was laughter in his voice. He took her hand, the callouses on his fingers scratching her palm. “I love old movies. Those were the real days of movie greatness.”
“So tonight’s more modern movie will be a drag for you?” she asked, trying not to squirm under his direct gaze and the pressure of his fingers on hers.
“Tonight I’m going to a movie with a Claudette Colbert look-alike and devouring popcorn. That’s probably enough for one night.”
“Actually, we might already be late. Bangor is about an hour away. Want to take my car?”
“No offense, but your car is the perfect moose landing strip. You know, low to the ground, easy to fall onto the front and through the windshield?”
Peggy shuddered. “You’re kidding me.”
“No. There are moose on that highway, and they are big awkward animals who don’t find it easy to get out of the way of a vehicle. We’re much safer in my truck. It’s higher off the ground, more engine and chassis to protect us should we hit one—”
“Enough! You made your point.”
“By the way, who’s paying? I eat a lot of popcorn,” he said, a big grin on his face when she turned around.
“I’m paying?”
“Why not? This is, after all, an equal opportunity date. I drive. You pay.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said.
They drove to the theater, laughing and talking all the way. This was shaping up to be a great date. He was fun, cute and sexy and had a body that any red-blooded woman would want to explore.
“Who would have thought that I’d be going out with a man who loves old-timey movies?” she commented as she climbed out of the truck.
“Hey! Go easy on the old stuff. People might get the wrong impression about me,” he said, coming around the truck and offering her his arm.
“Meaning?” she asked, linking arms with him.
“That because I like old stuff I must be dull.”
She stopped. “You? Dull? Don’t think so. But I do have one small request.”
“Name it.”
She pointed at his pocket. “Turn off your cell phone.”
“Don’t we do that inside the theater?”
“Yes, some of us do.”
“You’re in the habit of going to the movies with text-aholics?”
“One text message, and the date is canceled. That’s my policy.”
“Mine, too,” he said, turning off his phone.
“We’d better hurry,” she said.
“Not until I tell you one of my policies.”
“That would be?”
“I never go into a movie theater with a beautiful woman unless I’m holding her hand.” He slid his hand into hers, his skin warming, inviting and somehow oddly protective. “Oh, yes, and my other thing. Rule, actually.” His eyes brimmed with laughter.
“And that would be?” she countered, loving his attention, his easy banter.
“You have a standing invitation to come to my apartment any day you like and watch any or all of my old-timey movies.”
“Very kind of you, I’m sure,” she said, wondering what his apartment looked like, whether it was festooned with take-out boxes and dirty laundry, or whether he was as neat about his home as he was about his appearance.
The movie had already started, but neither of them seemed to care. Rory paid for the tickets, making her smile. The movie was wonderful. Paris on screen was romantic and beautiful. But all of it paled against the excitement Peggy felt sitting so close to Rory. She couldn’t stop watching him, the way his hands held the bag of popcorn, how his lips curled around the straw. Everyday things took on a life of their own as she watched him.
His eyes met hers in the darkened theater. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I can go out and get you something.”
“We’re having dinner later, aren’t we?”
“Yep. I’ve already picked out the spot.” He placed his popcorn and drink on the floor beside his seat. Leaning back, he put his arm around her, and she snuggled against him.
“Then I’ll wait to see where we’re going. Don’t want to ruin my appetite.” As she sat so close to him, she found it difficult to concentrate on the movie or the characters.
* * *
RORY DROVE CAREFULLY along the narrow road leading down to the beach at Murphy’s Cove. He didn’t want to make Peggy’s ride uncomfortable. He had no idea whether or not she’d experienced any pain or discomfort since he’d picked her up at her house. The moon bathed the inside of the truck cab with soft white light, illuminating Peggy’s heart-shaped face. “I had a good time this evening.”
“So did I,” she said, leaning back in the seat, a smile on her face. He loved it when she smiled. He loved it even more when he was the one who made her smile.
He executed the final turn along the road that opened out onto a long stretch of beach shimmering in the moonlight. He heard her sudden intake of breath and turned to look at her. “What do you think?”
“It’s unbelievable. How have I lived along this coast for two years and not been to this place?”
“Don’t know. I do know you’re in for a treat. Sharkey’s Fish and Chips are the best in Maine.”
He pulled the truck into the only parking spot left along the front of the weathered building nestled against the rock face that ringed the beach. They walked in together, and he loved the feeling of strolling along beside one of the prettiest women in the place. The top she wore showcased the swell of her breasts. The short blue skirt she wore covered only the most cursory upper parts of her legs that led down to a pair of high-heeled sandals. The one part of a woman’s wardrobe he loved more than sexy underwear was high heels. He tried not to fixate on the shapely curve of her ankle, noting that this was the third pair she’d worn in the short time he’d known her.
They took a booth looking out over the water, the moon cutting an elongated sliver of light into the dark ocean water.
The waiter arrived, placed plastic menus in front of them. “What would you like to drink?”
“Nothing alcoholic for me. I’m driving. But you have whatever you like, especially since I’m paying,” he said, picking up the menu as he waited for her response.
“How kind,” she replied, her gaze sparkling in fun. “And I’ll take your advice, mostly because I’m starving.” She checked out the menu then closed it. “I’ll have your fish and chips.”
“Large or super large?”
“Really?” she asked, thankful she hadn’t eaten anything at the movie.
“They only come in two sizes.” The waiter held his pen over his scrunched-up notepad.
“I’ll have the large and an iced tea.”
“Knew you were a city girl the minute you walked in here. We don’t serve iced tea. Ginger beer—great drink—no alcohol.”
“Better do as the man says,” Rory offered, hiding his grin behind his menu.
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll have the same,” Rory said.
In a matter of minutes their food arrived, the fish crispy and the chips homemade. “I found this place on the day I moved to Eden Harbor. I decided that I wanted to get down near the water and spotted their sign on the highway.” He took a huge bite of fish and smiled in pleasure.
Peggy picked up a chip and popped it in her mouth. A surprised smile lit her eyes. Her sigh of delight made him feel really good. He’d made the right choice. “Like them?”
“Love them,” she said, cutting off a piece of the fish and eating it quickly. “With fish this good, I may want them to adopt me.”
“It could be arranged, but I imagine y
ou’d have to know something about cooking fish, cleaning deep-fat fryers, mopping up the kitchen, hefting large bags of garbage into a Dumpster—”
“I get your point. So maybe we could settle for eating here a couple of times a month,” she said, smiling. Her mention of dates to come made him unreasonably happy.
He couldn’t believe that they were out on a date at his favorite restaurant on a moonlit night. He’d waited all his life for a woman like Peggy. He couldn’t describe his feelings where she was concerned, except that being with her felt like coming home. Tonight Haiti seemed so far away, so removed from his life.
They ate and laughed and talked. He didn’t want the evening to end. “Instead of dessert, I have something entirely different in mind.”
“If it’s a moonlight swim, I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” she warned.
She’d be one hot-looking lady in a swimsuit. “No. But come to think of it, that’s a great idea.”
“My objection still stands.”
“Okay. Let’s wait and do that another evening, one of those future evenings you mentioned earlier. But there’s still something we can do.”
“I’m not into feeding fishes,” she teased, wiping her lips with her paper napkin.
His gaze locked on hers. “Close, but not the right answer.”
“I’m waiting,” she said, holding his gaze.
“We can go for a walk in the moonlight, along the beach, listen to the water pounding the shore...” He reached for her hand. The sounds in the restaurant dimmed.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said, her voice so soft and light he wanted to pull her into his arms.
“I’ll pay the bill and meet you out on the deck. There’s stairs down to the beach from there.” He wanted to high-five someone, holler at the moon. He settled for the normal thing and paid the bill.
When he got out to the deck, she was nowhere in sight. He was about to go back inside when he spotted her crossing the restaurant and heading toward him.
“For a minute there I thought you’d found a handsome man driving a big BMW, and he’d offered to sweep you off your feet and land you in the Cayman Islands.”
“No such luck. Besides, I’m enjoying it right here,” she said, coming to stand in front of him, her hand sliding into his. “Thought using the little girls’ room a prudent move after the ginger beer. Never had it before, but it was good. Not nearly as good as the fish and chips.” She pretended to search the horizon. “Now about that beach.”
Sweet on Peggy Page 8
