Cape Light

by Thomas Kinkade

  Then he turned away from her abruptly, unfolded the sheet and started covering the pieces again. She wondered if something she said had offended him. She certainly meant her question as a compliment.

  “Well, the furniture is beautiful,” she said. “I’m sure when you’re ready to market it, you’ll be overwhelmed with interest.”

  “We’ll see,” he said modestly. Still, she thought he was pleased by her compliment. Everything she said was sincere; she wasn’t trying to flatter him.

  Down in the kitchen again, he led her outside, through a back door. The yard behind the house was overgrown but full of flowering bushes and hardy perennials—floribunda roses, daisies, and clumps of tiger lilies that struggled through the weeds, surviving through years of neglect.

  “The pond is just down past those trees. There’s a path that goes all around if you want to try it. . . . Or I could take you back to town,” he added, glancing at her.

  Jessica checked her watch. She had lost all track of time. The day was passing, but she didn’t want to go home yet, back to her stuffy apartment and her endless calculations. . . .

  “I’d like to see the pond,” she said, falling into step beside him. “I haven’t been down here in ages. The last time, I think, was in the sixth grade, on some kind of nature walk with the science teacher, Mr. Ludlow.”

  “I remember him. I think he made all the classes do that. You had to get a jar of pond water and look at it under a microscope later.” Sam chuckled. “This kid in my class pushed me in.”

  Jessica laughed, picturing him at that age. “Did he get in trouble?”

  “I pulled him down after me, so we both ended up in the principal’s office,” he recalled. “I wasn’t the most serious student,” he admitted, glancing at her. “I don’t think I ever got to see those little bugs in the water.”

  Jessica smiled at him. “You didn’t miss much,” she said lightly.

  Now that she knew Sam better, how he’d done in school, or the fact that he probably hadn’t gone to college, didn’t seem that important to her. She wondered if he thought it did.

  When Sam met her eye, she could tell she had said the right thing.

  They came to the start of the path. It was thick and overgrown. Sam reached around her to pull a branch with sharp stickers out of the way, and his face came close to hers. She felt his warm breath on her cheek for a moment when he spoke.

  “Be careful. I haven’t had a chance to cut it back lately.”

  Jessica kept walking without a reply. The path was narrow and they walked side by side, his body occasionally brushing hers. Her pulse quickened at his nearness.

  Then to their left the foliage thinned out and the pond came into view. The water was deep blue, smooth and serene. Mallards and a graceful, long-legged heron nested nearby in the tall rushes.

  They walked on without saying much, but it was a comfortable silence between them. The path was mysterious and magical—and very beautiful, Jessica thought, with wildflowers and thick vines, and on the water, stretches of water lilies.

  She felt very far from the real world, from her apartment and the work waiting there. From her office at the bank, and even from Boston and her interrupted life. How could she really miss the city? she suddenly wondered. This place had so much to offer, beauty and tranquillity around every corner. These last five months living in Cape Light, she hadn’t really noticed, hadn’t opened her eyes and taken it in—taken it to heart.

  But now she thought she saw it clearly, maybe for the very first time in her adult life. She could understand why Sam had returned and why he wanted to stay. He wasn’t limited or timid, as she had first thought, but fortunate and sensible. He had found a place he loved and had the good sense to stay there. He would be happy here with his future family. He certainly deserved to be.

  They were more than halfway around, and the sun was still shining, when fat raindrops fell on Jessica’s skin and hair. She turned to Sam. “It’s raining again. We’d better run for it.”

  “It’s just a sun shower. It will stop in a minute,” he said, showing no inclination to dash off for the house. He looked down at her. “Haven’t you ever taken a walk in the rain, Jessica?”

  “Not on purpose, I haven’t,” she admitted.

  He tugged her hand, pulling her out from under the sheltering branches. “Come on, try it. It feels great.”

  “Sam—what are you doing?” A needless question. She knew what he was doing, making her get drenched.

  He opened his arms and lifted his face into the rain, which was coming down harder now. “This is great. Don’t you like it?”

  Jessica stood with her arms stiffly at her sides, her head bowed a bit. Then she finally relaxed, giving in to the sensation. She felt the cool rain seeping into her hair and clothes, soaking her skin. It felt wonderful. She wiped her face with her hand and opened her eyes to find Sam watching her. She smiled at him.

  “Okay, you win. . . I’m drenched,” she complained, but she was laughing at the same time.

  He smiled back. “I guess we are getting a little wet out here.”

  She touched her hand to her wet hair. It was plastered to her head. “I look awful, right?”

  “Not at all.” He brushed her wet hair off her face with both his hands. His palms lingered, cupping her face in his hands. “More like beautiful, I’d say.”

  Before she could answer, his head dipped lower, and their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. The touch of his mouth on hers was hesitant at first, testing, as if he half-expected her to pull away. But with her palm pressed against his soft cotton shirt, she felt his heart beating under her hand, and she kissed him back without thinking. His arm moved around her waist, and he pulled her closer. The pressure of his mouth grew more intense for one tantalizing moment, and then he stepped back and let her go.

  When she opened her eyes, he was looking down at her, a soft smile curving his wide mouth. “I think we can go back now.”

  Too overwhelmed to speak, she only nodded. Sam took her hand in his and led her through the tunnel of branches and vines, back to his house.

  Once inside, he found some dry clothes for them both. Jessica ended up in a sweatshirt several sizes too big. “I look ridiculous,” she said, working hard to roll up the sleeves, though they kept slipping down. “Don’t you have anything smaller?”

  Sam stood nearby changing into a dry T-shirt. She tried not to stare at his muscular chest and well-defined biceps as he pulled off one shirt and pulled on another.

  “Sorry, I don’t keep a lot of clothes out here,” he said, catching her eye. She could feel her cheeks grow red as she averted her gaze.

  “Besides,” he added as he tugged his shirt into place, “you look really good in yellow.”

  “Um . . . thanks,” she replied, hoping he hadn’t caught her staring.

  As they drove back to the village, Jessica glanced at Sam’s strong profile. She felt as if something had subtly shifted between them, but she couldn’t say exactly what or why.

  Of course, he had kissed her . . . and she had kissed him back. That changed everything. But it didn’t have to, she reminded herself. It didn’t have to mean a thing or create new expectations. You could kiss someone, and nothing more would ever come of it.

  But that wouldn’t be the case here. She was almost sure of that.

  Suddenly Jessica thought of Paul. When he kissed her, it was pleasant but . . . not memorable.

  Sam’s kiss was different, in another league altogether. For one thing, Sam seemed so sure of himself, not at all tentative or questioning. When he’d taken her in his arms, she felt not only his strength but his emotional intensity. And the way she responded to him had honestly shocked her. His kiss was sort of . . . overwhelming. For her, at least, she thought, glancing over at him.

  She was almost sure he’d ask her out again—and then what would she say? How could she refuse after kissing him back that way? Did she even want to refuse?

  She looked at
him again, and this time he turned his head and met her gaze. As if in answer to her rambling thoughts, he said, “Can I see you this weekend?”

  She couldn’t help asking, “What about the woman you were out with Saturday night?”

  Sam shrugged. “She’s a nice person, but we didn’t click. So what about this weekend?”

  “T-this weekend?” Jessica heard herself stammer. Why was she having so much trouble answering such a simple question? Then, without thinking, she said, “Um . . . I don’t have any plans.”

  His dark eyes glowed. Despite her misgivings, she felt undeniably warm inside to see Sam so happy at the mere thought of spending time with her.

  “How about Saturday? We could go out to dinner. Someplace special.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. He had turned down her street and was pulling up to her house.

  “Good, then I’ll call you and we can figure it out, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jessica nodded and opened her door. “Good-bye, Sam,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Thanks again for your help,” she added. She jumped down to the sidewalk and slammed the truck door.

  “You’re very welcome. I’ll see you soon. And I’ll come finish that repair tomorrow,” he said, then waved good-bye.

  As she watched his truck pull away, she wondered if she would regret going out with him. But somehow, she couldn’t say no. Paul would be out of the picture for weeks, maybe the entire summer. It wouldn’t hurt to go out with Sam one time, Jessica reasoned. Or even more than once. It wouldn’t mean anything.

  When she got back to the city in the fall, she would return to her real life again. If there was one thing she learned today, it was that this summer in Cape Light was definitely not her real life.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “MAYOR WARWICK, I’D LIKE A WORD WITH YOU.”

  Emily cringed as Charlie Bates charged toward her, practically vaulting over the counter the moment he spotted her at the diner.

  Sara stood by with a menu, about to seat Emily at a table. Emily waved her away. “Never put your hand between two snarling dogs, dear,” she advised quietly.

  Sara laughed, then stepped aside for Charlie, who stood inches from Emily’s face.

  “I have some news for you, Mayor,” he began. “It’s happening, just like I knew it would. I told all of you at the meeting, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  “What is that?” Emily asked blandly, though she knew Charlie’s news had to involve Dr. Elliot’s real-estate deal. Charlie had lasted an entire three days without drawing her into another public debate. A record for him, she thought.

  “Fran Tulley, Tucker’s wife, is working for Betty Bowman now. She told me Betty has a buyer for Elliot’s property, and it looks like they’re coming to terms.”

  “Hmmm, that was fast. Betty is quite a saleswoman, isn’t she?”

  “For pity’s sake—don’t you even want to know who the buyer is?” Charlie turned his head a moment, expelling a long breath of frustration.

  He had to calm down. He was going make himself sick at this rate, Emily thought. But it wasn’t her place to say anything of the sort to him, not now anyway.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Who is the buyer, Charlie?”

  “North Bay Development.” He grimaced as he said the name, as if the very sound were distasteful to him. “Ever hear of them?” Then, without waiting for her reply, he said, “Let me tell you about North Bay Development. Their specialty is putting up these big, ugly eyesore-type modern houses. Some of them look like an alien spaceship just landed on your neighbor’s lawn. They could probably pack a whole development of them onto Elliot’s land. Of course, he’ll have to tear down all the trees up to the road to do it. Maybe right up to that nice sign on the Beach Road that says ‘Welcome to Cape Light. A nice place to visit, a great place to live.’ You know that sign, don’t you, Mayor?” he taunted her.

  “Yes, Charlie. Of course I do.” It did sound bad. But Charlie was an alarmist and a highly unreliable source of information. “But I don’t know anything about this company. I really need some facts.”

  “I’m giving you the facts. Plain as the nose on my face,” Charlie insisted. “Haven’t you been listening to a word I just said?”

  The door opened, and as if on cue, Dr. Elliot entered. “Hello, Emily,” he greeted her. “Charlie,” he added with a curt nod.

  “Hello, Doctor,” Emily replied.

  “Coming in or out?” Dr. Elliot asked her.

  “In . . . I think,” she said, glancing at Charlie. Charlie’s mouth was set in a hard, grim line as he scowled at Dr. Elliot.

  The doctor didn’t seem to notice. “Join me, if you like,” he said to Emily. “I see an empty booth in the back. I think I’ll take it.”

  “Perfect timing, Mayor. Perfect!” Charlie murmured as the doctor started for the back of the diner. “Here’s your chance. Have a nice lunch with Dr. Elliot. On the house,” he added. “Talk a little sense into the old man. Not for me, not because I’m asking. I know how you feel about me.”

  “Charlie—” She shook her head, about to refute him.

  “Elliot respects you,” Charlie went on. “He’s a friend of your family’s. He’ll listen to you. Think of the village, what we’ve built here and tried to preserve, your grandfather and mine, too. Once we let something like those houses in, it’s the beginning of the end. It will change everything.”

  While Emily still believed it was not her place to interfere with Dr. Elliot’s deal, Charlie’s impassioned plea did persuade her to join the doctor for lunch. Maybe she could find out more about North Bay Development, if he wanted to share the information with her, she thought.

  “All right, I will have lunch with him,” she agreed with a smile, “and we’ll give you the bill, too.”

  Charlie laughed and grabbed two menus. “Specials are on the board,” he noted as he seated her at Dr. Elliot’s table. “Lobster roll is pretty good today. I’m not even sure if we have any left.”

  Dr. Elliot peered at Charlie over the edge of his wire-rimmed glasses. “Then why recommend it?”

  “The waitress will come round for your order in a minute.” Charlie shot Emily a meaningful glance as he left.

  “That man is close to insufferable,” Dr. Elliot murmured. “Unfortunately, his food is the best in town. Which presents a dilemma for an old bachelor like me.”

  Emily smiled. “I know what you mean. But I hear Charlie is starting a new delivery service. I, for one, will be using it frequently.”

  Sara Franklin came by and took their order. After she left, Dr. Elliot said, “I know Charlie’s still hot under the collar about my property. I probably shouldn’t even come in here at all. But I wanted some fried clams for lunch, blast it. And why should I be cowering in front of Charlie Bates?”

  “No reason at all,” Emily replied.

  “Exactly,” Ezra declared. “Betty thinks she’s found a buyer for the land. We’re dickering about the price, but I think it will all work out,” he added happily.

  “Yes, Charlie just told me, when I came in,” she admitted. “I heard it was a builder, North Bay Development.”

  The doctor gave a low whistle. “News travels fast in this town, doesn’t it? I bet Charlie already knows what I’m having for dessert. I ought to ask him,” Dr. Elliot said, peering around.

  “Charlie’s worried that this developer will put some unattractive houses on the land,” Emily said gently. “Big, modern monstrosities, he calls them.” She looked across at Dr. Elliot and held his gaze. “I told him I would speak to you about it.”

  “Go ahead,” the doctor said with a curt nod.

  “He’s afraid they’ll put up buildings that will ruin the town,” she related.

  “Are you afraid of that as well, Emily?”

  “I don’t know anything about North Bay Development. I trust that our zoning laws and permit process will hold the line against ‘big, modern monstrosities’—wherever and whenever they might storm our p
ristine shores.” She paused to return his small smile. “I do know that this is your call, Ezra. Yours and yours alone.”

  “I hear you, Mayor . . . and I thank you,” he replied with a slight nod of his head. He sniffed and pushed his spectacles up on the bridge of nose. “Now, where’s our food? My blood sugar is dropping down to my toes.”

  Sara soon appeared with their lunch orders, and they put real estate aside and talked over other matters. Dr. Elliot asked after Emily’s mother, and Emily asked him more about his retirement plans.

  Dr. Elliot admitted he didn’t have any clear plan in mind. “I just want to stop practicing medicine. See what that feels like for a change. Get up late, read the newspaper, stroll around town without a care in the world, like a man my age should. I want to live like a regular lazybones for a while. Think anyone will lead a protest in Village Hall about that?”

  Emily laughed. “I’ve learned that in this town, you can’t assume they won’t.”

  When they were done with their meal, they walked out together, only to find Charlie hovering near the door. He’s like income taxes, Emily thought with a sigh; he can’t be avoided.

  “Well, so long,” Dr. Elliot said, making a quick exit. Emily, however, could not run the gauntlet as quickly.

  “How was lunch?” Charlie asked pointedly.

  “The lobster roll was very good today. Thanks for the suggestion.”

  “Did you talk with him?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “But I don’t believe it will make any difference. This is his decision, Charlie. Can’t you see that?”

  Charlie’s expression instantly changed from expectant and hopeful to total exasperation. “I should have known. ‘Never send a woman to do a man’s job.’ ”

  “Really? I thought the punch line was, ‘There’s no such thing as a free lunch.’ ”

  Smiling, Emily slipped their table check into his shirt pocket and sailed past him through the doorway.

  WHEN GRACE HEARD THE MUSIC, SHE THOUGHT AT first she left the radio on upstairs. Then she realized the notes were too scattered and uneven to be coming from the radio. The source of the tinkling melody was closer, more distinct.