Summer by the Tides

by Denise Hunter

“You never were the cannonball type, but this is getting a little ridiculous. So . . .” She gave him a saucy look. “About this woman I want you to meet . . .”

  “No offense, Lexie, but your friends are a little young for me.”

  “She’s several years older, actually—thirty-two, to be exact. She’s very kind, very attractive, and very personable.”

  “That’s a lot of verys.”

  “Stop being difficult.”

  “If she’s so wonderful, why’s she still single?”

  “So cynical. She was actually married until last year. She’s divorced now and ready to start dating again.”

  “Sounds like a lot of baggage.”

  “First of all, Mr. Judgey, she’s a very stable woman, and second of all, her husband was a jerk who cheated on her.”

  “And I’m sure there’s no baggage at all from that.”

  She scowled at him. “Connor, you’re thirty-five. Do you really think you’re going to find a single woman your age without a little baggage? You’re toting around at least a carry-on yourself. We all have issues, you know. That’s just life.”

  He stared out to the hazy horizon where the white triangle of a sail was barely visible. He inhaled the air, letting it stretch his lungs before he exhaled it out.

  He’d been with Annie so long. They’d been high school sweethearts, and he’d never even been with another woman. He’d never say such a corny thing out loud, but she’d been his soul mate. His everything.

  And then suddenly she was gone.

  He’d never find that again. But did he want to spend the rest of his life alone? He missed Annie’s friendship. He missed having a companion. And yes, he missed having a lover. The bar was so high, though, he feared no one else would truly satisfy him.

  For some reason, the image of Louise’s granddaughter, Maddy, formed in his mind. Shiny brown hair, moving easily around her shoulders. That long fringe of lashes, sweeping over her almond-shaped brown eyes. He imagined her generous lips stretching in a wide smile—something he had yet to see.

  “So what about it?” Lexie asked. “Are you willing to meet her after your restaurant crisis is over?”

  Connor shook the cobwebs from his head. “Who?”

  Lexie gave him a look. “My friend Johanna . . . the one with all the verys? Ringing any bells?”

  Connor set his mug on the table between them. He knew he had to start dating eventually. He’d admit, if only to himself, that he was tired of being alone. He craved some form of what he’d had before, even if it couldn’t be the same. And Lexie was right. Annie wouldn’t have wanted this lonely existence for him.

  He gave a put-upon sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  Lexie squealed, clapping her eager young hands.

  “But not until I find someone to fill Cheryl’s spot,” he said firmly. “And only this once.” He had to set some limits or his baby sister would run all over him.

  Undeterred, Lexie’s smile was as bright as the sunshine. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

  Connor scowled at his sister. He was definitely going to regret it.

  Chapter 9

  “Look at this,” Maddy said, holding up the tiny sundress. It was their third day in the hot, stuffy attic, and it had been slow going.

  Emma looked up from a dusty box. “Aw, that was yours, Maddy. I saw a picture of you wearing it in one of the boxes.”

  Nora was working quietly in a corner, black readers perched midway down her nose, sorting through a box of financial records.

  Maddy envied her the unemotional job. She’d set aside a few boxes of her dad’s things, not wanting to deal with them yet. There was a part of her that was very curious about her dad, since he’d died when she was still a child. She knew him only as a loving father. What kind of man had he been? What kind of worker? What were his dreams and aspirations?

  Gram would be able to fill in the blanks, but she always got such a sad look in her eyes when Daddy came up in conversation. And Maddy was reluctant to bring up the touchy topic with her mother. She had to admit he’d been her “favorite parent,” and she had a feeling that hadn’t gone unnoticed by her mother.

  Maddy tossed some old magazines into the recycle pile. They already had three large trash bags full of garbage and several full of Goodwill items. They’d set back a few things for themselves: photographs, seashells, pictures they’d drawn for Gram.

  Gram called almost daily, and they updated her on their progress. She sounded more concerned about their relational progress, but a tense truce seemed to be the best Nora and Emma could manage. Gram would have to be all right with that because Maddy couldn’t imagine either of them waving a white flag anytime soon.

  Nearby, Emma stretched her neck, then checked her watch. “It’s going on two. I’ll go put something together for lunch. Turkey sandwiches and soup all right?”

  Maddy’s stomach gave a growl. “Sounds good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you said that.”

  “I’ll text you when it’s ready.”

  After Emma left, Nora stood and stretched. “I never realized Gram was such a pack rat. She’s kept financial records dating back to the seventies.”

  “Well, I didn’t get that quality from her,” Maddy said. “I’m lucky to find all my year-end information at tax time.”

  Maddy pulled out a store flier, her eyes quickly scanning the bathing suit ad that must’ve been from the fifties. Her gaze honed in on one of the models.

  “Look at this,” Maddy said. “Is that Gram?” She pointed at one of the four young women who were standing at the surf’s edge, arm in arm. The one who looked like Gram in her younger years wore a yellow one-piece with a snug skirt.

  “Well, I’ll be. It sure looks like her.”

  “She never told us she modeled! She was gorgeous.”

  “Are there more?”

  Maddy dug through the box. “Here’s another.” In this one she wore a blue two-piece with a boy-shorts bottom. Her long legs seemed to go on forever.

  “Scandalous!” Nora said, laughing.

  There were several other advertisements in the box. Maddy couldn’t wait to quiz her grandma about her modeling days.

  * * *

  Connor shrugged into a clean shirt, struggling to pull it down over his still-damp stomach. One of his dockhands had a sprained wrist, so he’d spent most of the day gassing up boats. He couldn’t show up at the restaurant smelling like gasoline.

  He should put in a shower at the marina. He may as well live there at this point. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and decided to let it air dry. He grabbed his keys and wallet and left the house. When he was nearly back to his car, someone called out. He glanced up to see one of the granddaughters coming across the yard, flagging him down.

  He met her at the edge of his property. She was the middle one, a real beauty with a friendly smile. Emma, he remembered.

  “How are you doing, Emma?”

  “Just fine. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know anything about appliances?”

  “Sure, a little. What’s going on?”

  “I was making lunch, and the stove stopped working, both the oven and the cooktop. The thing’s ancient; it’s probably just finally bit the dust, but . . .”

  “I think I know what the problem is.”

  He followed her to the house, making small talk along the way. She was pleasant and friendly, with a smile that reminded him of Louise’s. Her younger sister could take lessons.

  Once inside the kitchen, he went straight to the wall outlet beside the stove and tried the can opener. As he suspected, it was dead.

  “It’s just a tripped breaker,” he said. “This happens to your grandmother sometimes when she forgets and uses too many things at once. If you’re using the stove and the microwave, you can’t use anything else on this wall.”

  “Oh, good to know. Do you know where the breaker box is?”

  “It’s in the living room closet, but I’ll get
it.”

  As he entered the living room, the other two women were coming down the steps.

  Maddy’s eyes tightened at the corners as they connected with his. “Hello.”

  “Maddy. Nora.” He nodded, then focused on the older sister. “Emma stopped me on my way out. She tripped a breaker in the kitchen.”

  He opened the closet and reached for the gray breaker box cover. It opened with a squawk. Locating the right switch, he flipped it, then closed the door again. “That should take care of it.”

  He trailed behind the sisters, heading back to the kitchen where he checked the oven.

  “It works!” Emma said with a joyful smile. “Thank you so much. I didn’t even think of checking the other outlets.”

  “Well, the stove probably is on its last legs,” he said.

  “Stay for lunch if you haven’t eaten yet,” Emma said. “It’s only soup and sandwiches, but there’s plenty to go around.”

  His stomach gave a hard twist. He hadn’t eaten since the protein bar he’d downed on his way to the marina this morning.

  “We insist,” Nora said. “It’s the least we can do. Right, Maddy?”

  Maddy gave a strained smile. “Of course.” She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea.

  He suddenly wanted to stay put, if only just to annoy her. The marina could do without him for another few minutes, and once supper hour rolled around he’d be too busy at the restaurant to eat.

  “I’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”

  Ten long minutes later they were seated at the table, Nora at the head, Emma and Maddy across from him. Pippy sat attentively nearby, clearly hoping for a scrap of food.

  After Nora said grace, Connor dipped his spoon into the hearty-looking chicken noodle soup. A taste of the savory stew proved him right. The tea was sweetened just the way he liked and adorned with a sliver of lemon.

  He made small talk with Emma, and Nora caught him up on their grandmother’s excursions. He was glad Louise was having a good time with friends. She spent too much time alone. He hoped her granddaughters planned to hang around until her return.

  They talked about their progress on the attic, and he offered his help once they got around to fixing the house itself. By then he’d have Cheryl’s position covered—he hoped. The résumés he’d gotten so far had been dead ends. He wouldn’t have trusted either applicant with a mop and a broom, much less a management role.

  All the good summer help had been lined up weeks ago. He was going to have to broaden his reach with an online ad. He’d do that tonight, even if he had to do it after closing.

  “So what is it that you do, Connor?” Maddy asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  The question itself was benign; it was her superior tone and the stubborn tilt of her chin that got under his skin. “I work at the marina, Maddy. Down at the end of Main Street.”

  Just the thought of the long night ahead made him yearn for his bed. He smothered a yawn.

  “You look like you need a nap worse than you need a meal,” Emma said.

  “What d’you expect?” Maddy mumbled.

  His eyes shot to hers. She watched her spoon dip into the bowl, come up with some silvery broth.

  “I’m sorry—what was that?”

  Her eyes flickered off his. “Well, when you stay out till all hours . . .”

  “Maddy . . .” Nora gave Maddy a look that clearly said, What is wrong with you?

  Connor studied Maddy for a long moment, watching her squirm and enjoying it a little too much. “And how would you know what hours I keep?”

  A flush had risen to her cheeks. “My bedroom window faces your way. Your headlights wake me up when you come home.”

  “Wait a minute . . .” Emma snapped her fingers. “Sullivan’s Marina . . . I saw the sign a few days ago. You must be the new owner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Maddy’s lips thinned as she arched a delicate brow.

  He gave her a tight smile. She’d done nothing but judge him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

  “The food’s delicious, Emma.” He finished off the toasted turkey sandwich. It really was tasty, stacked with meat and tomato and slathered with a mayo-based spread.

  “Thank you,” Emma said. “I love to cook, and unfortunately I like to eat what I cook.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. If I cooked like you, I’d enjoy it too.”

  Emma’s brown eyes lit up. “So, Sullivan’s Landing . . . the new restaurant on the docks—do you own it too?”

  “Oh, I noticed that the other day.” Nora scooped up her last spoonful of soup.

  His gaze toggled to Maddy long enough to see her haughty expression waver. “Technically it’s not new. It used to be the Crab Shack. But yes, I own it now.”

  * * *

  Heat prickled the back of Maddy’s neck, and she resisted the urge to unfasten the top button of her blouse. Was the air-conditioning broken? What was the temperature in here anyway?

  “Maddy was just saying we should stop there and try it out sometime,” Emma said.

  “You should definitely do that.” He gave Maddy a forced smile. “Let me know the night, and I’ll save you a good table. We have a nice menu and reasonable prices.”

  “Maddy manages a restaurant in Charlotte,” Emma said. “Pirouette. It’s very prestigious. It’s gotten reviews in some of the top epicurean magazines.”

  “Assistant manager,” Maddy said.

  “She’s up for a promotion, though,” Emma said.

  Maddy winced. She felt Connor’s gaze on her like a heat lamp but pretended avid interest in her sandwich.

  “That a fact?” he said.

  She heard something in his tone, like maybe disdain. As though he thought she was hiding something. Okay, she was hiding something, but still.

  “Our Maddy’s very well regarded in the local restaurant community,” Emma said.

  “She should be,” Nora said. “She’s devoted her entire life to the place.”

  Maddy squirmed as she finished the last bite of her sandwich. “All right, that’s quite enough. I think it’s time to get back to the attic—and let Connor get back to work.”

  Ten minutes later Maddy breathed a sigh of relief as they settled back into their sorting. She didn’t know what it was about that man. All right, so he wasn’t a beach bum. He still stayed out till all hours. Entertained women much too young for him. Had that ridiculous flop of hair.

  “Why are you so prickly with Connor?” Nora asked. “He seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “I’m not prickly.”

  Emma laughed. “You are too. If Nora and I agree on something, you know it must be true.”

  Nora bristled as if that thought alone was unbearable.

  “If I didn’t know better . . .” Emma let the thought drag on unfinished as she unwrapped a teacup, then wrapped it back up. She set the whole box aside and pulled another one from the dusty corner, sneezing hard.

  “If you didn’t know better . . . what?” Maddy asked.

  “I don’t know. It just feels like there’s a little sexual tension going on there is all.”

  Maddy gave her a look of disbelief. “Sexual tension? That’s ridiculous. I don’t even like him.”

  Emma laughed. “On the basis of what? He helps out Gram, he was concerned enough to call us—”

  “Or manipulative enough.”

  Emma spared Maddy a glance. “That again? Oh, come on. If he was a willing participant he only did it because he cares about Gram. You can’t fault him for that.”

  “Leave her alone,” Nora said. “You don’t get to decide who she likes.”

  Emma stiffened, the words hanging between them, lingering in the air.

  “No, you’re right, Nora.” Emma’s eyes hardened on her older sister. “I don’t get to decide who anyone likes.”

  Nora paged though a financial document, her nose twitching. “I’m not apologizing again, Emma. I was practically on my
knees begging—”

  “As well you should’ve been!”

  Maddy held up a hand. “Come on, girls. You made a truce.”

  “I was as sorry as I could’ve been,” Nora said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Sorry doesn’t change anything—and what’s that mean anyway? ‘I never meant to hurt you.’ You knew it was going to hurt me, but you did it anyway. You both did. That says everything right there.”

  Maddy pressed her lips together. They weren’t putting her in the middle of this again. She’d made a concerted effort to bring about a resolution when she was eighteen and had failed miserably. She’d even managed to get them in the same room twice. But Emma was still hurt and angry with Nora, and any efforts Maddy had made to defend her had only made Emma angry at Maddy too.

  Her efforts with Nora had been just as disappointing. Nora was finished apologizing to Emma, was tired of being the target of Emma’s anger. She just wanted to move on with her life.

  Feeling unaccountably tired, Maddy popped to her feet. “If you two want to go at it, fine. Tear each other apart. I’ll be in my room.”

  Chapter 10

  Three days later Connor pulled into his driveway, gravity weighting his body like a lead blanket. As he shut off the engine and extinguished his headlights, the distant sand dunes disappeared. Darkness pressed in from all sides. His eyes were gritty and dry, his lids heavy from lack of sleep.

  His new sous chef had quit last night, leaving the kitchen shorthanded. He feared their chef was going to go elsewhere if something didn’t change soon.

  Saturdays were the restaurant’s busiest night, and the food had been so slow coming out that customers left. The wait staff was weary of complaining customers, and Connor was just plain weary. He had to get this figured out.

  His head against the headrest, keys clutched in his hand, he couldn’t seem to make himself move. He closed his eyes, dreaming of bed just a short walk away. Then he thought of the long day ahead tomorrow and the one after that, stretching out, no end in sight.

  Even after posting the position online the résumés weren’t exactly flooding in. And those that were . . . He gave a heavy sigh and breathed yet another prayer for help.