“Good point.” Sophie descended the steps and walked around to the back of the building. More windows, another door, all boarded up.
“Seen enough?” Jesse joined.
“Almost. Any idea where the property lines are?”
“Well, you’ve got the river down there, so it could go all the way down to the river through the woods.”
She could see through the labyrinth of shrubs and bare-limbed trees all the way down to the riverbank. When summer came and the trees leafed out, that view would be obscured. The dense leafless overgrowth continued as far as the gravel driveway that belonged to the boat rental place a stone’s throw down the road to the left.
“And I’d guess that the end of the parking lot out front is the right-side line,” Jesse said, pointing toward the macadam lot.
“That cyclone fence your first clue?” She frowned at the ugly fence that ran the length of the property on the right side. “I wonder who owns that hot mess.”
Jesse shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”
“That fence has to go.”
“Good luck with that.”
Sophie stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the tangle of vines and brush that surrounded the building, mentally removing it. Except for a few of the large trees that could give shade to outside diners, most of what grew there was haphazard and unsightly.
“What are you thinking?” Jesse asked.
“I’m thinking how cool this place could be if it was all cleaned up.” She turned and pointed toward the jungle that grew around them. “Clear away all that stuff and you have a great space here. You could see all the way down to the river. A patio would be perfect out here for alfresco dining. And if that fence was replaced with something that was less of an eyesore, over there I could …”
“Don’t.” Jesse covered his face with his hands and begged, “Don’t go there, Soph.”
“Why not?”
“Because this place is a mess on the outside and it’s probably even worse inside. Because you’d have to spend a fortune to make it look like anything.” He paused. “Do you have a fortune I don’t know about?”
“I have some savings and some equity in my condo, but nope. No fortune.”
“There you go, then. Look, it’s okay to dream, but some dreams shouldn’t be acted on. This is one of them. It wouldn’t be practical, sis. You know nothing about running a restaurant. And your experience cooking on the grill at Shelby’s aside, you’re really not a cook, and let’s face it, that alone isn’t enough to run a restaurant. If you want a change in your professional life, come to work with me.” He took her arm and guided her through the brush to the front of the building. “I need another attorney in the office now that Uncle Mike has retired for good. I’d actually thought about calling you, but I was under the impression that you were happy where you were, doing what you were doing. If you’re serious about making a big-time change in your life, why not move down here and help me out?”
“Jess, you couldn’t possibly have enough work for both of us.”
“Are you kidding? There’s more than enough. Ask Brooke how many nights and weekends I’ve had to work these past few months just to keep up with my own cases while I’m taking over Uncle Mike’s.”
“I don’t know, Jess …”
“Just think it over.” He glanced at his watch again. “Right now, I have to pick up Logan. He has basketball today and I’m one of the coaches.”
“Can I tag along? I’d love to see my soon-to-be nephew.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, too. And you know the boy loves an audience.”
Sophie got into Jesse’s car and snapped on her seat belt with some reluctance. She’d have loved to explore the property a little more, would have loved to test the lock on that back door to see if she could get a look inside. She was only half listening to Jesse as he pulled away from the building and headed to Brooke’s family farm, where she and Logan lived in a house on the property. Sophie’s imagination went into overdrive. If all that ground to the left of the front of the building was part of that parcel, she could have a garden. Flowers for the tables and herbs and vegetables for the dishes she could serve. Contrary to her brother’s opinion, she was an accomplished cook. Granted, she’d never cooked full-time for a living, but her summers at Shelby’s had taught her a thing or two.
She shook her head in an attempt to dispel the picture of that square stone building dressed up with window boxes spilling over with petunias and verbena, and fresh paint on the door, on both sides of which she’d plant hollyhocks and Shasta daisies and Knock Out roses.
She must be mad to even consider it.
Well, she’d be mad to consider it with the limited knowledge she had about the property, but she knew where to go to get the information she needed. Jesse wouldn’t like it, but really, would it hurt to ask?
After a cheery reunion with her soon-to-be nephew and two long periods watching seven- and eight-year-olds play their version of hoops, Sophie wandered over to the bench where Jesse and the three other coaches were trying to send the team’s next group of players onto the court.
“Jess,” she said, waving to him. “When you get a minute …”
“What’s up?”
“I think I’m going to walk over to see how Pop’s doing.” It had been a month since Sophie had seen their grandfather, and while he always appeared to be in good health, he was well into his eighties.
“Great idea.” Jesse reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Here, take my car. I’ll get a ride with Jason.” He gestured over his shoulder in the direction of the bench. “You remember Jason Bowers, right?”
Sophie glanced at the tall guy leaning over to speak with one of the boys.
“Eric’s brother. Logan’s uncle.” The guy she’d mentally nicknamed Uncle Hottie. “Sure. We met at Pop’s birthday party.”
Jesse nodded. “Right. I’m sure he won’t mind dropping me off.”
“Thanks, but I think I’d like to walk. I spent so much time sitting on my butt already today, it’ll feel great to move around. The weather is mild and sunny, much nicer than what we’ve had in Ohio this winter. I’m pretty sure I remember how to get to Pop’s. Across the field to the dirt road, to Charles Street, then left on Charles until I get to Old St. Mary’s Church Road, then straight on down to the end?”
Jesse nodded, his eyes on the player who was just coming up to the foul line. “Take your time, Brandon,” he called. “Don’t rush the shot.”
“I’ll see you back at your place later on.” Sophie tapped Logan on the back to say goodbye, then headed toward the exit. Once outside, she walked across the baseball field onto the dirt road leading to St. Dennis’s main street.
It was a great day, and it felt good to stretch her legs and breathe in the cool, fresh air tinged with the scent of salt. St. Dennis was a pretty town, with a picturesque marina and a row of shops that sold everything from souvenirs to antiques. Sophie passed a flower shop where pansies spilled over the sides of pots lining the front window, a reminder to passersby that spring was coming. Next door was Cuppachino, where the locals met for coffee and gossip, and across the street was Sips, where hot or cold drinks to go could be purchased along with the local newspaper, the St. Dennis Gazette. Sophie crossed at the light and stepped inside, where she bought a bottle of water and picked up a calendar of events that the St. Dennis Chamber of Commerce made available in the local shops. She stuck the calendar into her bag to look at later, then took a long drink from the bottle before tucking it into her bag with the calendar.
Next to Sips, the windows of the shop appropriately named Bling were filled with trendy fashions that caught her eye. On her last trip to St. Dennis, Sophie had dropped a bundle there on several sweaters, a bag, and some costume jewelry. She momentarily toyed with the idea of stopping now. She’d met the owner, Vanessa Keaton Shields, and was tempted to pop in and say hi. On the other hand, she was on a mission. Reluctantly, she wa
lked past Bling—slowly enough to take in the lovely displays—and reminded herself to fit in a visit to the shop before the week was over. After Bling there was a bookstore, an antiques dealer, and a food market. Foot traffic in the center of town was light, but Sophie knew that once the tourist season began in the spring, the sidewalks would be crowded.
Had it been only a month or so ago that she’d fantasized about bringing Chris here to meet her grandfather? She banished the memory as quickly as it came. It was a beautiful day and she was here to put that unfaithful S.O.B. as far from her mind as she could. That so far she’d been unable to do that—that the pain beneath her ribs was still as sharp—was no reason to stop trying.
Sophie hesitated outside Brooke’s bakery with its pink-and-white striped awning and the hand-painted sign announcing the shop’s name—Cupcake—which hung in the window. Courtesy dictated that she stop and say hi to her brother’s fiancée, but the day was passing quickly. Besides, she’d most likely see Brooke at dinner. She walked the few remaining blocks to Old St. Mary’s Church Road and turned right onto one of the town’s original streets.
Sophie reached the block where the old town square began. The magnolias and azaleas, which were yet to bloom, lined the brick walkways leading to the square’s center. From her grandfather, she’d learned that the townspeople had gathered here for centuries to discuss whatever currently concerned them, from preparing a strategy against the British to escape destruction during the War of 1812 to hearing the local candidates for town council square off.
Across the street from the square, a modest sign identified the handsome red brick building on the corner as the offices of Enright & Enright, Attorneys at Law. Sophie had heard but lost track of how many generations of her family had practiced law beneath the slate roof. If she were to take Jesse up on his offer, she’d be part of that chain that stretched back many years. She paused on the sidewalk out front, contemplating the possibility. She’d been dreaming of leaving her current situation, of a life that offered something new and different. Joining Jesse at the firm would be a compromise that she wasn’t sure she wanted to make. Was only half the dream worth pursuing?
Still, it would put distance between her and the source of her heartache, and that could only be a good thing, right?
The front door opened and an elderly woman stepped onto the porch. She held a grocery bag in one arm and her handbag in the other, and she appeared to be struggling with the door. Sophie hurried up the walk to offer a hand.
“Here, let me help with that.”
The woman turned sharply, a guarded expression on her face.
“Oh, Sophie!” she exclaimed, her expression softening. “You startled me.”
“I’m sorry, Violet. I should have called out to you. May I take that bag for you?” Sophie reached for the groceries.
“That’s very kind, dear.” Violet Finneran handed the bag over without protest. “I don’t know what possessed me to load up that bag the way I did. I left the car at home this morning because it was such a nice day—I just love a warm day in January, don’t you? I stopped here to bring in the mail and of course one thing led to another, and here it is, the afternoon passing …”
“It happens to the best of us.” Sophie waited while Violet successfully locked the door. “Did you say you left your car at home?”
“I did.” She hoisted her shoulder bag a little higher and reached for the bag of groceries.
“I have them,” Sophie told her. “I’ll walk with you. You’re just a few blocks down and one street over, is that right?”
“What an excellent memory you have!” Violet nodded. “But I don’t want to take you out of your way …”
Sophie shook her head and slowed her pace so that the older woman could keep up. “I’m going to visit my grandfather’s, so I’m going your way.”
“Well, then, I’d love for you to keep me company,” Violet said. “Are you in town for the weekend? Jesse hadn’t mentioned you were coming.”
“I just decided on the spur of the moment to come for the week. It’s been a while since I’ve had time to spend with Jesse, and with his wedding coming up, this might be my last opportunity to see him for a while.”
“It’s nice that you’re so close, dear. I’m sure he’s delighted to have you visit. Just don’t let him put you to work unless he puts you on the payroll. That poor boy is working his behind off, now that your uncle Mike has left the firm and turned over all his files. It’s too much for one person to handle.”
“Is there really that much work here?”
“Oh, yes. Enright and Enright handles legal matters for most of the people in town—has for years. Now that Curtis and Mike have retired, it’s all falling on Jesse. I keep telling him he should advertise for another lawyer, but he’s reluctant to do that.”
Sophie walked along in silence. Her brother wouldn’t bring in someone outside the family to the firm, because it would no longer be Enright & Enright. She was beginning to feel the weight of his offer with each step she took.
On a whim, she asked, “Violet, do you know who owns that boarded-up restaurant over on River Road?”
“Yes, of course. It belongs to Enid Walsh, poor soul.”
“Why ‘poor soul’?”
“Enid’s family owned that restaurant for more years than I can remember. It may not look like much now, but in its day, it was quite nice. They did a respectable business before the new highway was put in and directed traffic into the center of town. Her father died when Enid and her twin brother, Leon, were toddlers. They worked in that place alongside their mother from the time they were able to stand, till Ida—that’s the mother—passed about eight years ago. Then Enid and Leon ran the place—ran it into the ground, some might say, but I try not to judge. When Leon died a few years back, Enid boarded up the place and hasn’t set foot in it since.”
“How many years are ‘a few’?”
“Oh, let’s see now. Might have been five or six. I hear she’s had offers to sell it, but so far she hasn’t been inclined to let it go. Don’t know why she’s holding on to it. I saw her at church a couple of weeks ago and if you ask me, she isn’t long for this world.”
“Maybe she just hasn’t gotten the right offer.” What, Sophie wondered, might be the right offer?
“What are you thinking, child?” Violet slowed her already snail-like pace.
Sophie shrugged. “It just looks like a place that could be really special in the right hands, that’s all.”
They walked in silence for an entire block. When they arrived at Violet’s corner, they paused.
“I had an aunt and uncle who owned a restaurant up in Chestertown,” Violet said. “It’s terribly hard work.”
“It is a tough way to make a living,” Sophie agreed. “I spent seven summers working in a diner. It was hard, but I enjoyed it.”
Violet started down the street and Sophie fell in step until they reached their destination, the third house from the corner. It was a handsome American four-square that sat back a bit from the street, had a wide front porch, and was shaded by an enormous red oak in the middle of the front lawn.
“I should call Enid and see if she needs a ride to church in the morning,” Violet said somewhat absently as she searched in her bag for her house keys. “She hasn’t been getting around too well lately.”
“If you do see her, would you ask her if she’s interested in selling the place?” Sophie tried to sound nonchalant, but she could tell by the look on Violet’s face that she wasn’t fooling anyone.
“I’ll try to remember to do that.”
“I’d appreciate it. I’d even be happy if she just let me have a key to wander around inside a bit.”
“Oh, she doesn’t have the key anymore.” Violet pushed open her front door. “We have the key.”
“We? Who’s ‘we’?”
“We at the office. Curtis—your grandfather, that is—handled all the legal work for the Walsh family. Enid gave us a key
so that Mike could check it from time to time, you know. Keep an eye on the place. Said since her whole family was gone she couldn’t bear to go inside herself.”
“So Uncle Mike has the key?”
Violet shook her head. “No, no. Mike brought all the files back to the office. Jesse might have the key …”
Chapter 4
JESSE has the key?
Sophie’s stride lengthened and her pace picked up with every step. Jesse has the key?
Walking briskly, her feet keeping time with her growing annoyance, she dug out her phone from her bag and speed-dialed her brother. The call went to voice mail.
“Call me, bro. You’ve got some ’splaining to do.”
She dropped the phone into her pocket and kept up the pace all the way to her grandfather’s home. But once there, she slowed her step, stretching out the trip to the front door, the better to take in the beauty of the old structure. Built of brick in the 1850s, styled after a Carolina manor house, it had been purchased by Sophie’s great-great-grandfather after the Civil War, and for almost 150 years, Enrights had called it home. It was the largest and grandest house in St. Dennis, and its inclusion in the previous year’s Christmas House Tour had had the town buzzing for weeks. Curtis Enright, her grandfather, hadn’t entertained since his wife, Rose, died almost twenty years ago. People had lined up to buy tickets once it was announced that the Enright mansion, as the locals referred to it, would be on the tour.
It was an imposing sight, and it never failed to impress Sophie. Both the grounds and the house itself were beautifully maintained, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it might have been like to grow up here. She could, of course, ask her father. If she were speaking to him, which she was not. Having managed to screw up almost every area of his life, Craig Enright was reportedly now on his fourth wife. It had been years since he’d made any effort to contact any of his children from his previous marriages.
How could someone grow up with all this—not just the grand home, but the love and support, which from all accounts had always been there for Craig and his brother, Mike—and still have his life go so far off the rails? Sophie shook her head as she rang the doorbell.
At the River’s Edge Page 3
