“Well, well. Look who’s here!” Curtis Enright opened the door, a huge smile on his face when he recognized his granddaughter. “I didn’t know you were in town, Sophie. Please, come in.”
“Hi, Pop.” She stepped into the cavernous front hall and his embrace at the same time. She hugged him once, then once more before closing the door behind her. Did he seem just slightly thinner, perhaps a little more fragile than she’d noticed when she was here in December? “How are you feeling these days?”
“Fine, fine. Never better. Here, now, let me take that jacket.”
She slid off her peacoat and handed it over, then followed him toward the living room off to the left.
“Now, what can I offer you? Coffee? Some tea, perhaps?” He paused in the doorway, her jacket still over his arm.
“Nothing, thank you.” She paused to look around, then smiled. “I like that nothing ever changes in this room.” She pointed to the wall of family portraits. “I like that they all seem to be watching out for you.”
Her grandfather laughed as he hung the jacket on the coatrack, then gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa. “As long as your grandmother is looking out for me, I don’t need the likes of them. They’re a nosy bunch. They keep an eye on everything, like they must know what’s happening at all times.”
“Think Gramma Rose is still hanging around?”
“Now what do you think?” Curtis’s smile was indulgent. It was obvious what he thought.
Sophie, not so much.
“Oh, Pop, you know I have a problem believing in things I can’t see.”
“You hear that, Rose? Sophie can’t see you, so she doesn’t think you’re here.” He took a seat next to her on the sofa and turned toward the windows as if addressing someone. “What do you have to say to that?”
Rose Enright had been gone for decades, but to hear Curtis tell it, his wife had never really left, her presence made manifest by the occasional whiff of gardenia that had been her favorite fragrance when she was alive. Sophie had never believed in ghosts, though she had to admit that from time to time, she did, in fact, catch a sudden floral scent when she was in the house.
Like now.
“How did you do that?” Sophie’s eyes narrowed and scanned the room, searching for a vase of flowers but finding none.
Curtis laughed. “You know it isn’t anything I’ve done. You just don’t want to accept what your senses are telling you.”
“I don’t know what my senses are telling me, Pop.” She dismissed what he considered the obvious.
“Well, let’s just say I know what I know, and we’ll leave it at that. Now, when did you arrive in St. Dennis and why didn’t I know you were coming?”
“It was pretty much spur of the moment. Jesse’s wedding is in a few months, and I got to thinking about how little I’ve seen him since he moved to St. Dennis, so I thought I’d take a week off and spend some time with him. I just arrived a few hours ago.”
“Nice that your boss let you take a whole week off with such short notice.”
“I have a lot of time accrued, and I was between trials,” she explained. “I wouldn’t have asked for the time if there was something going on next week.”
“Well, then.” Curtis leaned back into the sofa cushions. “Tell me about the most interesting case you tried in the past six months …”
An attorney who’d practiced for more than sixty years, Curtis had retired with some reluctance. He loved the law and made no effort to hide the fact that he missed his work terribly. Sophie was more than happy to share her courtroom experiences with him. For more than an hour, they discussed first one, then another case, him commenting from time to time (“Hmmm. Doesn’t seem the defendant was very well prepared for your cross. Good for you, keeping one step ahead of ’em.” Or, “Had a case like that one time …”) and her occasionally stopping to ask him what he’d have done with the same case and set of facts.
“I’m certainly proud of you and the way you’ve taken to the law, Sophie. It’s a shame you’re tied to the DA’s office back in Ohio. We could use you down here in St. Dennis.” He eyed her carefully. “Any chance you’d be willing to think about joining Jess at Enright and Enright?” Before she could respond, he noted, “You know, with your uncle Mike and I both retiring last year, the firm is really only Enright now.”
“I think Jesse can handle it on his own, Pop.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Jesse’s a good attorney.” Sophie was taken aback slightly. Was her grandfather implying that he didn’t think Jesse was up to his professional standards?
“Of course he is. He’s a fine lawyer. I wouldn’t have turned the firm over to him if I’d had any doubts about his ability. I couldn’t be more proud of the boy. But even the best of us can’t be in two places at the same time, nor do two things at once. Enright and Enright has always been the go-to law firm in St. Dennis. I need to be able to count on the next generation—your generation—to make sure it stays that way.”
“Pop, I’m sure Jesse is doing his best.”
“You’re missing my point. Since your uncle Mike retired and turned over his files to Jesse, the workload is more than one lawyer can realistically handle if he wants to have a life. I’m assuming Jess wants a life, since he’s getting married soon. I’d hate to see him start his marriage working an eighty-hour week.”
“What about Mike’s kids? Didn’t one of them graduate from law school?” Because her father and his brother had been estranged for many years, Sophie had met her cousins only twice. She tried to recall what they’d told her about their career plans.
Curtis dismissed the comment with a wave of the hand. “Lightweight.”
“Do you really think Jess is having a problem?” Jesse had mentioned a burgeoning caseload, but she assumed he was just throwing her a lifeline.
“If he isn’t now, he will be before too much longer. Give it some thought. That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right.” Scratch Pop as a potential advocate for my big career change.
“How are you feeling nowadays?”
“Fit as a fiddle. Just a bit of a lingering cough from time to time, but otherwise, couldn’t be better.” He cleared his throat.
“Pop, do you think you should be living here alone in this big house?”
“Now, you know I’m not alone,” he replied softly.
“I hope you’re not referring to Gram. Because if you fell in the middle of the night, I doubt she’d be calling 911.”
“If I need 911, I’m capable of calling them myself.”
“Not if you aren’t near a phone.”
“I have a cell phone, and believe it or not, I do know how to use it.”
“You take it to the bathroom with you if you get up at night? You have pockets in your pj’s or your robe?”
“Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”
“I worry about you. Jesse worries about you, too.”
“Well, thank you very much, but I don’t need anyone fussing after me.”
“But Pop … if you fell … if you got sick …”
“And what’s the worst thing that could happen if I do? I die?” He snorted. “You think I’m afraid of dying?”
“But …”
“Listen, missy, I’m more afraid of living another ten years than I am of dying before this one is over.” He reached over and patted her hand. “This will be hard for you to understand, because you’re so young, but I look forward to the day when my Rose and I are together again in the same dimension. Yes, she’s here with me—more and more all the time, so I’m thinking maybe my time is drawing closer—but we’re in two different spheres, she and I.”
“Pop, is there something you’re not telling me? Has your doctor …?”
“No, no, nothing like that. Not to worry.”
“Are you taking medication for anything?”
“I have a few prescriptions for some meds for my heart.”
“Are you
taking them?”
“When I remember.”
“Did your doctor tell you to take them every day?”
“I suppose.”
“And you wonder why I’m worried about you living by yourself, being alone all day?”
“I’m not alone all day every day. I have Mrs. Anderson—she’s the housekeeper, cook, Jill-of-all-trades. She comes in around eight thirty, makes my breakfast, runs errands some days, does the laundry, keeps the house clean, makes lunch, cleans a little more, makes dinner before she leaves.” He recited the list of chores as if from rote.
“She comes in all seven days?”
He nodded. “Most weeks.”
“Well, at least there’s someone who could help you up if you hit the floor.”
Curtis laughed heartily. “I’m steady as a rock, Sophie. I’m not worried about taking a fall. Besides, I do have visitors. Mike stops in, Violet Finneran stops in, Jesse’s over here every other day, old friends come by, though there are fewer of them around these days. Why, there’s any number of people who can help me up if I ‘hit the floor.’ ”
It would be impossible to miss the note of sarcasm in his voice.
“I’m hardly a recluse.” Curtis’s voice softened. “I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need for it. I’m well, but if the good Lord decided to call me home tonight, I’d be just fine with that. I’m just waiting to go, Sophie, and I’m not one bit afraid.”
“I really don’t want to think about that.” She thought about all the years she and Jesse had been estranged from their grandparents. “It seems like we’ve just found each other again.”
“In that case, we should be smart enough not to waste any of the time we might have together talking about foolish things.” Curtis slapped his hands on his thighs, then stood. “Want to see my latest project?”
“Your latest project?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Indeed.” He reached for her hand. “Let’s get our coats and take a walk.”
Sophie slipped back into her jacket while her grandfather retrieved his coat from the front hall closet. Then he led her into the wide hall toward the back of the house, through the kitchen, and into a glassed-in area he referred to as his conservatory. Off to one side was an arched doorway, through which she could see the greenhouse.
“Are you growing something new?” Sophie started toward the greenhouse door when he tugged on her hand.
“I left all that to your grandmother. It’s all I can do to keep her old favorites alive. Easier now, though, that I have help. You can wander through here later if you like.” He steered her to the door that opened onto the backyard. “My project is out here. I’m very excited about it.”
She followed her grandfather down three stairs to a path that looked new.
Sophie stood, hands on her hips, surveying the scene. “Well, it looks as if you’ve been busy.”
“Wait till you see it all when it’s done.” He walked in the direction of the carriage house. “It’s going to be restored to look just the way it did in the old photos we have. It’s taking a while, but it’s going to be worth it in the end.”
“That’s some project,” she agreed.
“Oh, this isn’t the project I was talking about.” He paused midway to the structure. “That’s over here.” He took her elbow. “Over where the lawn’s been dug up six ways to Sunday. It’s quite the mess now, but it’s going to be glorious when it’s finished.”
They followed the path to a spot where sections of the lawn were outlined with what appeared to be spray paint.
“What’s going on out here?” she asked.
“This,” he pointed beyond them, “is where the formal garden used to be. I’m having it restored.”
“From which era?”
“Good question. I wasn’t sure myself there for a while, but I’ve been working with a landscaper who has experience with this sort of thing. It’s been quite exciting, actually. Rose would have loved it.” His eyes were beginning to twinkle. “The most clearly defined garden we’ve been able to find is a layout consistent with gardens which would have been popular in the 1880s, and since we do have photos from that time period, that’s the one we’re going with.” He pointed to the far end of the proposed garden. “And there, we’re planning a rose garden.”
“For Gramma Rose.”
“Yes. She had a rose garden years ago, tended it like it was one of the kids. Unfortunately, most of the canes couldn’t survive the terrible neglect I inflicted on them after she passed, but a few managed to survive. We’ll be moving them so they’ll be part of a permanent garden.”
“That’s a lovely idea.”
“Whatever happens to me, I want to leave the house and the gardens in mint condition.”
“This renovation … I’m guessing it’s going to take a long time.”
“It won’t happen overnight,” he agreed.
“Good.” She hooked her arm through his. “That means you’re going to have to stick around until it’s finished. That could take years. You wouldn’t want to have half a garden out here.”
“I’m not a necessary part of the project at this point. My landscaper has his plans drawn up and the money has been set aside to complete the job. So regardless of what happens, the gardens will be completed. I don’t have to be around to see it through.”
His words had an ominous ring.
“Pop, are you sure there isn’t something wrong, something I should know about?”
“Not a thing. I just like to cover my bases.”
When she started to question him further, he squeezed her hand and made it clear he was finished with the conversation. “Now, how about we get your brother on the phone and see if we can arrange to meet him and Brooke for dinner tonight at Captain Walt’s. I have a craving for rockfish, and I hear they’re running this week …”
Chapter 5
“SO what’s with playing dumb about the restaurant on River Road?” Sophie was waiting for Jesse when he stepped through his front door. “Why didn’t you tell me you had the key all along?”
“What are you talking about?” He dropped his gym bag in the hall. “What makes you think I have a key to that old place? And if I did, why wouldn’t I have said so?”
“Because you think me running a restaurant is a stupid idea.”
“Whoa, girl. Back up. Who told you I had a key?”
“Violet. She said the owner is a client and there’s a key in the office.”
“Well, Violet would know. The owner could be one of Pop’s or Uncle Mike’s clients. I haven’t had time to go through all the old client files. I think I may have mentioned that fact.” He went past her into the kitchen and turned on the cold water faucet. “But do I think it would be stupid for you to quit your job and open a restaurant when you have no clue how to run one and no game plan? Let’s just say it probably wouldn’t be your finest moment, kiddo.”
He got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, then took a long drink.
“Well, what if I had a plan?” She knew she sounded pissy but couldn’t help herself.
“Do you?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But if I were serious about opening a restaurant, I most certainly would have a plan before I moved on it.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Sometimes you make me feel as if I’m ten again and you’re fourteen, and it makes me want to stick my tongue out at you.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel better …” He drained the glass and set it on the counter.
“What’s going to make me feel better is taking a peek inside that building.”
Jesse glanced at his watch.
“It’s getting late and I need to take a shower. Pop called about dinner, and you know he likes to eat early. Brooke will be here in about an hour, and we need to pick up Pop by six.”
“We could have time if we hurried.”
He shook his head. “We’d have to go to the office and look for the key, and
that could take hours.”
“Violet might know where it is,” she persisted.
“She probably does,” he agreed. “Why don’t you call her while I’m in the shower, and if she knows exactly where it is, and if there’s time before we have to pick up Pop, we’ll stop and get the key tonight. Otherwise, we’ll get it in the morning, which is a better idea anyway, since I’m sure the electricity has long been shut off in that old place and you won’t be able to see a damned thing anyway.” He took his phone from his pocket and handed it to his sister. “Violet’s number is programmed in. Go ahead and give her a call.”
Jesse started out of the room.
“And between now and the time she answers, you think about how you’re going to get approval from the owner for entering her property.”
Sophie frowned. “If she gave you a key, doesn’t that assume that she’s okay with you going in?”
“I don’t know the owner, therefore I do not know the circumstances of how we came by that key.”
His voice trailed off as he climbed the steps.
“Violet will know,” Sophie called back even as she heard his bedroom door close. “Violet knows everything.”
She searched through the directory on his phone until she found Violet’s number, then pushed call. Moments later, voice mail picked up, and a disappointed Sophie left a message for Violet to call back as soon as she could.
“Nuts,” she grumbled as she started up the steps to get ready to go out to dinner. Once in the guest room, she opted for a quick siesta, just a few moments with her eyes closed against the fatigue of the long drive from Ohio.
The next thing she knew, Brooke was standing over her.
“Sophie, wake up,” Brooke said softly. “Wake up.”
“What?” Sophie opened her eyes. “Brooke … oh, crap, what time is it?” She shot up.
“Time to get up and get ready if you’re going to dinner.”
“Damn, I just thought I’d rest for a minute …” Sophie sat up and shook off the dream she’d been lost in—one in which she and Chris were still together and happier than they’d ever been in real life. It had left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach and a pain behind her eyes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
At the River’s Edge Page 4
