A Small-Town Reunion

by Terry McLaughlin

  Just to see if Addie’s shop was open today.

  And why wouldn’t it be open on a Monday during the tourist season?

  Yep, she was there, he saw as he drove past her shop door. Lights on, sign in door window. Perfect chance to stop in and say hello.

  Again.

  What had he been thinking, coming here again so soon? It had only been a couple of days since his last surprise visit—what kind of progress could she possibly have made on Geneva’s windows in such a short amount of time? Just because his grandmother had handed him the perfect excuse to drop by, he couldn’t keep using checks on the repairs as the reasons for his visits. Addie would think he was making a pest of himself, and she’d be right.

  But he still needed to see her. To get her out of his head.

  He took a short trip around the block and aimed again for her shop. Slowing near an open spot at the curb, he flipped on his signal and angled close to the car ahead to begin the proper parallel parking procedure. And then he shifted back to Drive and pulled away, wondering if Addie had witnessed that knuckleheaded maneuver through one of her big shop windows.

  What in the hell would he have said to her after he’d walked in? After hello—then what? Nice day, isn’t it? How’s business so far today?

  Interested in striking up our old friendship while I’m in town this summer?

  Except they’d never been friends, not really. Not when he’d found her in Julia’s kitchen and they’d sat in silence, feasting on milk and cookies. Not in those moments they’d passed each other in the crowded school hallways and murmured quiet acknowledgements. Not even when he’d fixed her broken locker, or she’d painted a sign for his club’s homecoming booth.

  Had he imagined some connection that hadn’t been there at all?

  You need to pay more attention.

  No, he hadn’t imagined the flare of heat in her eyes that day she’d dropped her books near the school parking lot. And he hadn’t imagined the evidence of that same heat in her cheeks when he’d stopped by last week. He’d felt that same awareness. Felt that same yearning to…be with her.

  Might want to rethink your strategy, while you’re at it. Yeah, Jack had been right about that, too. He turned a corner and found himself making another pass down Cove Street. Even his subconscious was driving him to her door. Might as well go in.

  Or not.

  He stepped on the gas and accelerated past her shop. God. Had she seen him again? She’d think he was stalking her.

  Which might not be far from the truth.

  With a curse, he gripped on the wheel and made a sharp turn, bumping one wheel over the curb as he entered the tiny public lot a block away. He took the last available space, switched off the ignition and slumped in his seat. Staring out the windshield, he waited for the mortification to subside and for some rational thought process to take its place.

  Why Addie Sutton? Why had seeing her again after all these years unleashed the ghosts of high school past? She’d made it clear she didn’t want to see him, wasn’t comfortable around him. Hell, there was another guy in the picture, even though she’d denied it. So why did he keep setting himself up for rejection?

  Maybe because he had such a talent for it. His mother had left him behind, his father had virtually ignored him. He suspected most of his friends here in the Cove had tolerated him only because of his last name and the money he always had in his wallet.

  Break out the violins. Dev Chandler, healthy and wealthy—if none too wise—was indulging in a hell of a pity fest.

  Calling it quits so soon?

  Not quits. Not exactly. Just playing it safe. This was too important to bluff his way through.

  Tess would slap some sense back in him, he decided as he climbed from his car. He rammed his hands into his pockets and stalked around the corner, heading for her Main Street office. Tess had always been good at tossing advice like darts. She’d poked at him plenty of times during those vacation weeks she’d come to stay at Chandler house.

  He strode through the door of her architectural design business and then stopped short. Charlie Keene was sitting behind Tess’s desk, her muddy work boots propped on the rungs of a visitor’s chair. She’d been an irritating part of his life ever since he’d moved into Chandler House—the daughter of Geneva’s friend, the friend of the housekeeper’s daughter. The snotty little brother he’d never had. And though he’d never done anything to hurt her—that he could recall—it seemed the redheaded runt had always had it in for him.

  He’d never understood what sweet, gentle Addie had in common with her two prickly best friends.

  “Well,” Charlie said with a sneer, “look who came to pay a call.”

  “Can it, Keene.”

  “No problem. I’m not in the mood to make small talk with small people.”

  “And I’m not in the mood to listen to you two claw at each other,” Tess said as she stepped from a storage area, struggling to maneuver a large model on its oversize board past a brick wall. “Not this afternoon, anyway.”

  She set the model on the desk, in front of Charlie. “Tell me what you think.”

  “I think it looks expensive.”

  Dev stepped closer, studying the form. A series of steep shed roofs rose and fell in an intriguing saw-tooth pattern, providing plenty of spaces for high windows that would flood the interior area with light. Still more windows were set two-by-two in a complementary pattern of zigzagging corners. Strikingly clean lines, plenty of interesting angles and a clever way to maximize a view. “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s a new office building for Keene Concrete.” Tess turned the model to show a side view. “It’s time that business moved out of its rusting office trailer and started looking like it’s going to stick around awhile.”

  Charlie frowned and poked at one of the roof peaks. “Did Jack put you up to this?”

  “No.” Tess flicked away a stray bit of paper stuck to one corner of the board. “Maudie mentioned she wouldn’t mind a bigger office, and when—”

  “And when my mom just happened to mention she wanted more space, you thought you’d take the opportunity to drum up some business for yourself.”

  “No harm in planning ahead.” Tess shrugged. “And no foul if you don’t like this first plan—although I do hope you like the general look, since I think it’s a good one. If you like it enough, we can discuss an interior layout. And the materials,” she added, warming to her subject. “I’d love to work with as much rock as possible, although I think we should use local redwood, too.”

  “Our customers are going to think we’re charging them too much.” Charlie folded her arms on Tess’s desk and rested her chin on her hands, examining the front more closely. “But it sure is nice.”

  “Of course it’s nice,” Tess said. “It’s perfect. And extremely attractive, considering the site is essentially light industrial.” She pointed to the row of angled corner windows. “This is the section that will overlook the river. You’ll notice every office space has a two-directional view. And here,” she added, turning the model again, “are the main entry and the windows facing the plant.”

  “Has Jack seen this yet?” Charlie asked.

  “No.”

  “Good. Do me a favor and don’t show him until after the wedding.” Charlie stood and made her way to the office door, sparing Dev a slit-eyed look as she passed by. “I don’t want him nagging me about this on our honeymoon.”

  “She loves it.” Tess’s face lit up with a brilliant smile after Charlie had slammed the door behind her. “I knew she would.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “She didn’t have any complaints, did she?” Tess cleared a spot on one of her display cubes and carried the model to its new home. “And she said it was nice.”

  Dev stepped beside her, leaning down to study her handiwork. “This isn’t nice. This is amazing. It’s all amazing.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Every once in a while I drive by that little sho
pping center you did—the one in Palo Alto. It still looks as beautiful as the day it was finished.”

  “Thanks.” Tess stroked a hand down his arm. “A girl can never have enough admirers in her life.”

  “You’ve picked up a couple since I saw you last.”

  “Speaking of picking up,” she said, checking her watch, “I’ve got to collect Rosie from day camp in about twenty minutes.”

  Dev shook his head. “Never pictured you as the instant family type.”

  “Never pictured it myself.” Tess brushed her short bangs from her eyes. “Life—and love—doesn’t always turn out the way we planned it.”

  “I can’t picture Charlie and Jack Maguire together, either.”

  “They may seem like opposites on the surface, but they’ve actually got a lot in common, besides the business experience. And if you saw them together, you’d see how much they love each other. It’s beautiful.” Tess stepped back to admire her creation. “As beautiful as the new Keene Concrete office is going to be.”

  Dev stared at the model on a neighboring display cube. “Guess I’ll get a chance to see them together at Geneva’s Fourth of July party.”

  “Are you staying for that?”

  “I’m staying for the summer.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and wandered across Tess’s office to look at the plans she’d framed and hung on one of the brick walls. “You knew that. I remember telling you, the first night I arrived.”

  “Yes, but—” Tess laced her fingers together at her waist. “You never stay as long as you say you’re going to.”

  No, he’d never been able to tolerate Geneva’s stern looks or her dictatorial manner for more than a few days at a time. He’d suffered enough of her standards and rules during the years she’d been his surrogate mother; now that he was an adult with his own preferences and habits, he found it easier to slip away than to challenge her in her own home. “I don’t have your patience,” he told Tess.

  “With Mémère, you mean.” Tess sank into her desk chair and leaned back, crossing her long legs. “I wonder sometimes if I’m becoming too much like her.”

  “There’s a lot to admire there.”

  “And a lot to fear.”

  He settled into the visitor’s chair, stretching his legs over Tess’s glossy wood floor and crossing his ankles. “You’ll have a happier life than grandmother did,” he said, thinking of the tragedies that had plagued the Chandler clan—their grandfather’s alcoholism and early death, his father’s divorce and accident. Tess, too, had lost her father at an early age, and her mother—Geneva’s daughter—had inherited a weakness for drink. “Maybe that happiness will make a difference,” Dev said. “Mellow you out.”

  “Like you, you mean?”

  “Me?”

  “Mr. Mellow.” Tess nudged one of her sandals loose and dangled it over her brightly polished toes. “I’m surprised people don’t check for a pulse when you stop moving. Look at you now, all nestled into that chair and ready for a nap.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” He smiled and closed his eyes. “I didn’t have any plans for the rest of the afternoon. Except for getting some writing done.”

  “So why are you here?” She rustled some papers and closed a drawer with a quiet thunk. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed your company. And your compliments. But you’re not going to get any writing done here.”

  “Maybe I’m looking for inspiration.”

  “And maybe you thought you’d find it around the corner.”

  Cove Street. Addie’s place. His cousin always had been able to read him like a book. “I haven’t been there yet.”

  “But you’re thinking of going.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “And you came here looking for my blessing.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Do I need it?”

  She’d slipped her sandal back on and tucked both feet beneath her desk. She regarded him like a prim schoolmarm, her hands folded on her neatened work space. “I don’t like being caught in the middle, Dev.”

  He straightened and brought his elbows down on his knees, leaning forward. “What makes you think you are?”

  “Don’t be dense. I’m caught between you and Charlie, who’s convinced you’re the reason Addie broke up with Mick—who happens to be one of the nicest men she’s ever met.”

  “Wait a min—”

  “And between you and Addie,” Tess continued, “who always tries so hard to keep the peace and always seems to end up getting trampled and left with nothing. And between you and Quinn, who happens to like you a lot but is worried about your intentions toward Addie, whom he absolutely adores, as do we all.”

  Tess sighed and shoved a hand through her hair. “And I’ll probably end up getting stuck between you and Rosie, since she’s showing all the signs of developing a minor crush on you. And since I’d planned on asking you to help me out with supervising her this summer—if you actually stick around, that is. You name it, I’m stuck, right in the middle. And I don’t like it.” She slashed a hand through the air. “Not one bit.”

  “Wait a minute.” Dev stood to pace a tight circle. He’d missed most of Tess’s rant after that first blast: Addie broke up with Mick. The words had rammed through him like the iron ball on a wrecking crane.

  “First,” he said, “this so-called problem with Charlie is a nonstarter. She and I have never gotten along. And that has nothing to do with you.”

  “But everything to do with Addie.” Tess relaxed against her desk. “Have you ever wondered why Charlie’s always been so hard on you?”

  “I figured it was a personality clash. Although I like her just fine.” He gave Tess a quick grin. “Just don’t tell her that.”

  Tess shook her head. “She’s never liked the way you treat Addie.”

  “I was rotten to her—to them both, when we were kids, I know that. Teased them every chance I got. But that was a long time ago.”

  “And I always stuck up for you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. Stuck in the middle, even back then.”

  Tess glanced at her watch and rose from her seat. “You’re my cousin. I don’t exactly have a large supply of relatives. And you’re one that I actually like.”

  “That’s nice to hear.”

  “Dev.” She sighed again and moved to stand before him. “There’s a great deal to like about you. There always has been. I just wish you’d grow up and decide to like yourself, too.”

  He gazed over the top of her head and squinted at the wall, working his jaw to try to get the next words out. “I always thought you could see right through me. It would be nice to discover I’ve been right about that all these years.”

  She lifted a hand to his cheek. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’ll understand that what I’m about to say is going to hurt us both. A lot.”

  She lowered her hand and looked him straight in the eye. “I think you should stay away from Addie this summer. In spite of the fact that I think you’d make a very special couple if you’d—no,” Tess said, frowning. “Now I’m arguing with myself, and there’s not much middle ground there.”

  She stalked away, whirled back. “The thing is, I don’t want to see Addie get trampled—again—when you leave. Even if you didn’t mean to do it, you’d end up hurting her. And then I’d have to hurt you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ADDIE STOOD ON THE expansive back terrace at Chandler House on a beautiful Fourth of July afternoon, sipping Julia’s perfectly sweetened lemonade. She concentrated on the tickle of cool ocean breeze, the extravagant perfume of Geneva’s roses and the peaks of the white tent pitched over the lawn. The murmuring voices of the guests spoke of everything and anything but the darkly handsome man prowling the edges of the crowd at the bar.

  She noticed the expensively dressed women who occasionally stopped his restless pacing to engage him in conversation. Old friends, old
connections. Comfortable old habits in his comfortable old world.

  “Don’t you think?” Tess nudged Addie’s arm.

  “Hmm?”

  “See?” Charlie made a beeline for one of the stone benches set along the balustrade. “Addie’s getting tired of all this wedding talk, too.”

  “But this is the perfect chance to see how to arrange things for the wedding reception.” Tess pointed at the scene below. “I’m not sure I’d put the tent in the middle of the lawn. Making a space for a dance floor under the stars would be better, don’t you think?”

  “Who said anything about dancing?” Charlie sighed. “This whole thing is getting out of control.”

  Tess crossed her arms. “Only because you’re not keeping up with developments.”

  “Maybe she should have more of a say in her own wedding.” Addie squeezed in beside Charlie on the bench and dropped an arm over her shoulder. “Do you want to have dancing at your reception?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Addie sent Tess a brief warning look, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut. “Does Jack?”

  “Probably.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to dance with him on your wedding day?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.”

  “Knowing Jack, I bet he’d love it.” Addie smiled at both her friends. “And I think Tess’s idea of dancing under the stars is romantic. And fun. Your guests would love it, too.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tess leaned against the balustrade, beside Charlie. “I’m getting plans for your wedding mixed up with ideas for my own.”

  “Maybe you should consult more with Tess,” Addie suggested. “You wouldn’t want her to hog all the best ideas for herself.”

  Charlie narrowed her eyes at Addie. “You know, you may think you’ve got everyone fooled with your image as this sweet little do-gooder, but I can see through your act.”

  Addie donned her most useful wide-eyed, innocent expression. “I don’t think I’m fooling people.”