At the River’s Edge

by Mariah Stewart

  “Hey! Sophie!” he called merrily.

  Christopher? She blinked.

  “Chris?”

  “How are you?” He put his arms out as if to hug her, and she took a few steps back.

  “What are you doing here?” She ignored both his question and his attempt to touch her.

  The thought of him touching her made her cringe.

  “I came to see you, to talk to you. I’ve missed you. I can’t stop thinking about you.” He looked around, first at her restaurant, then at the lot next door. “They told me at that coffee place in town that you’d probably be out here. What’s with this place, anyway?” He looked around, obviously unimpressed. “You giving up a legal career to open a café? Here?”

  “It’s really none of your business.” She took another step back. “I’m sorry you made the trip, sorry you felt compelled to see me. I can’t imagine what would have possessed you to come all the way out here without even calling. If you had called, I would have saved you from making the drive. I don’t want to see you, I don’t miss you, and I don’t want you here. Please go.”

  “Sophie, let’s talk this out. We were good together …”

  “No. In retrospect, we weren’t. If we’d been all that good, you wouldn’t have been sleeping with Anita. So I don’t have anything more to say to you. Please leave.”

  “At least show me around your new place.” He pointed to the restaurant with no real interest.

  “No, Chris, I really, really want you to go.”

  “Look, Sophie, just give me a chance …”

  Sophie studied his face and the desperate sound of his voice. A gleeful expression spread across her face.

  “She dumped you, didn’t she?”

  “What? No. Of course not,” Christopher protested. “I just got to thinking …”

  “Anita dumped you and you thought you could sweet-talk me into taking you back.”

  “Look, Sophie, we had a good thing …”

  “Which you screwed up by screwing around. But I don’t hold a grudge. Actually, I should thank you. This”—she pointed to the building behind her—“is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “So does that mean …?”

  “It means I want you to leave. Now, Chris.”

  “If we could just sit and talk for a few minutes, if you could let me apologize again. I’ll do anything …”

  “Buddy, are you deaf, or are you just stupid?” Jason walked around the fence.

  Chris frowned. “Who’s that?” he asked Sophie.

  Jason put an arm around Sophie. “Want me to pick him up and toss him into the mulch, babe?”

  “That would be nice.” She nodded calmly. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

  Chris looked from Sophie to Jason and back again.

  “Seriously, Sophie? You and this … goon …?”

  Sophie smiled. “He may be a goon, but he’s my goon.”

  “You couldn’t seriously prefer …” Chris pointed to Jason as if he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  “Any day of the week, Chris,” Sophie assured him.

  Chris looked momentarily stunned. “If that’s what you want …”

  “It’s exactly what I want.”

  Chris shook his head and backed toward his car as if afraid to turn his back on Jason. He got in, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot.

  “Thanks,” Sophie said. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of him.”

  “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” Jason told her. “But I was right there on the other side of the fence, and it sounded like he was getting pushy, and not in a good way.”

  “He was. I’m glad you stepped in.”

  “Who was that guy?” Jason asked.

  “My ex.”

  “Pardon me for saying this, but he seemed like an asshole.”

  “He is.”

  There was silence for a long moment.

  Later, Sophie tried to remember who laughed first. All she could recall was that one minute they were staring at each other, the next, laughing their heads off.

  “Sorry about the goon thing.” She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t.

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  They watched the black sedan speed down River Road and blow the stop sign. Seconds later, they heard the whoop-whoop-whoop of the police siren.

  “Oh, my God, that’s so perfect!” Sophie dissolved into new peals of laughter.

  “Is gloating appropriate right about now?” Jason asked.

  “Totally.” She laughed so hard she began to hiccough. “I hope Beck throws the book at him.”

  “Speeding in a thirty-five-mile-an-hour zone plus ignoring a stop sign should equal a hefty fine,” Jason pointed out.

  “Good. That’s what he gets for just showing up here out of the blue like that.” Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know what he was thinking.”

  “You really had no clue? He hasn’t called?”

  “I haven’t spoken to him since that night of Logan’s science fair.” She sobered. “He called to give me some bad news on a case he knew I cared a lot about, then used that as an opportunity to apologize for his extremely bad behavior.”

  “Am I allowed to ask what he did?”

  “Caught him doing the deed with a co-worker.” Sophie paused, then added, “In the backseat of that very car, by the way.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I meant it when I told him that breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She watched his face and could tell he thought she was rationalizing. “If I’d stayed in Ohio, I’d never have gotten this.” She pointed to the building, then remembered his interest in it. “Sorry. You’re probably wishing I hadn’t …”

  “I’m okay with it now.”

  “Really?”

  “I wanted to tell you that before you open here, I’ll have gone through all the mulch. Next delivery, I’ll have it dumped over on the other side of the lot and down closer to the river. I’m having some trees cleared off tomorrow to make room.” He added, “I skipped the mushroom soil this time around.”

  “What about your shop? Your retail shop?”

  “I’ll think of something else.”

  She watched his eyes watching her, and she couldn’t resist. “Want to come in and see what we’re doing?”

  “I’d love to.” He followed her inside and she closed the door. “I’ve never seen the inside.”

  He looked around the dining room. “Not too big, not too small. Manageable, I’d think.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You still planning on working here and with Jess?”

  She nodded. “He gave me two weeks off, though. At the insistence of our grandfather, but still.”

  “Nice of him. What are you calling it, by the way?” His gesture encompassed the building.

  “Blossoms.” Sophie smiled. “That’s what they used to call my grandmother Rose, Ellie’s great-aunt Lilly, and Violet.”

  “Nice tribute. It suits.” He smiled. “I wish you all the luck, Sophie. I hope your place is a huge success.”

  “Thanks. I hope you mean that.”

  “I do.” He started toward the door. “Thanks, by the way, for the phone call last night. I appreciate that you thought to call me.”

  “Of course.”

  “And he’s all right? Curtis?”

  “He seems to be. He is one tough old bird.”

  “True enough. Well …” He was at the door, his hand on the knob.

  She had the sudden feeling that if he left, he’d never be back, and the thought made her panic. If there was ever a chance for them, she had to make it happen now.

  “What movie did you see?” She took a step in his direction.

  “What?” He paused in the doorway.

  “The movie you and Logan saw last night. What was it?” She took another step.

  “Oh, some animated car thing. Logan’
s into animation.”

  “Sorry I missed it.” Another step closer.

  “Maybe next time.”

  “When?”

  “When what?” He appeared momentarily puzzled.

  “When’s the next time?”

  “When would you like it to be?” He stepped forward to meet her halfway.

  “Now. Right now.” She opened her arms and he pulled her close, nuzzled the side of her face, then kissed her hungrily.

  “God, I missed you,” he murmured.

  “Me, too,” she said between kisses. “I wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I got pissy, sorry that I yelled at your guy in the truck, sorry that I hadn’t told you sooner that this was the place …”

  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t a more gracious loser. Sorry that I tried to make you feel guilty about having bought this place. Sorry that I dumped mulch so close to your property.”

  “I’m sorry that …”

  He placed a finger over her lips.

  “We’re done being sorry,” he told her. “Let’s let it go.”

  “I was so afraid we were over.” She rested her head on his chest. “I didn’t want us to be over.”

  “We’re not over,” he whispered. “We’re not over, Sophie …”

  “Let’s lock up.” She pulled away from him.

  “Your place or mine?”

  “Your place this time.” She was smiling as she turned off the lights and grabbed her keys from the table where she’d tossed them earlier.

  “We’re not over,” she repeated aloud while she drove to his house on Doyle Street. There was still a chance they could find the magic again, and maybe even make it last.

  On Monday night, back at Sophie’s, just before she fell asleep, she heard Jason whisper, “Just want you to know that sometimes I have nightmares. They can be disconcerting, I would think, if you’re not aware that it happens.”

  “Same nightmare?” She twisted slightly to look up into his face.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  He fell silent, and she thought he’d decided against sharing that part of himself, which was okay as far as she was concerned. When—if—he was ready, he’d talk about it.

  “You know my parents died in a car accident,” he said long after she’d assumed he’d fallen asleep.

  “I remember you said that, yes.”

  “Did I mention that the accident was my fault?”

  “You were driving?”

  “No, my dad was.”

  “Then how was it your fault?”

  “I sneaked out one night after my parents were asleep, took my dad’s car, and picked up a few of my buddies and went joyriding. I’d just dropped off the last of the guys and was headed home, thinking how clever I was to have gotten away with it, when I got pulled over because one of the headlights was out. When the cop realized that I was under age and had no license, he took me into the station and called my parents to come pick me up. By this time it was almost five in the morning. They got Eric out of bed to drive them to get me.”

  Sophie had a bad feeling that she knew where this was going, but she sat back and let him tell it in his own time.

  “My mom came into the station for me, never said a word, just pointed to the door. My dad had gotten the car back and was waiting outside. Neither of them spoke on the drive home. It was obvious that they were really angry, super disappointed in me. I knew I was in for it when we got home. Two blocks from our house, a drunk driver wiped out on a deep curve and crossed into the opposing lane of traffic.”

  “Your lane.”

  “Yeah. Hit us head-on. My dad and my mom both died instantly. I walked away with only a few broken bones.”

  “So you’re saying if you hadn’t taken the car that night that your parents would still be alive.”

  “That’s what it came down to, yeah.”

  “Jason, the person responsible for that accident was the guy who was driving drunk.”

  “But if I hadn’t …”

  “That wasn’t the cause of the accident.” She took his face in both her hands. “Believe me, as a prosecutor, I’ve seen more than my share of fatal accidents caused by drunk drivers. Drunk drivers cause accidents.”

  He lay back against the pillow, and it was a long time before she heard his breathing relax and knew he’d finally fallen asleep.

  Much to Sophie’s surprise, the next morning, Jason had a flatbed truck deliver a dozen pine trees, which he lined up along his side of the fence that separated his property from hers. Until he’d actually gotten inside the restaurant, he told her later, he hadn’t realized how noisy his trucks sounded inside those stone walls. On Wednesday, a crew of guys with chain saws began clearing the far side of his lot, cutting down the saplings and sending them through a wood chipper.

  “The chips are pretty green, but they’ll age,” Jason told her. “Eventually, I’ll be able to sell them. In the meantime, they’re making way for a delivery of topsoil.”

  “And mulch.” She grimaced.

  “Usually people are looking for mulch when they’re putting in their gardens and their planting beds early in the season. That time is pretty much past now.”

  “So, in other words, I don’t have to worry about the stench driving my customers away until next year?”

  “Stench is such a harsh word.”

  “Not if you’d smelled it from inside my place.”

  “Well, that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about next week when you open.”

  “Yeah, I just have to worry about a lot of empty tables.”

  “I think that idea you had to invite people in the night before so they can sample the menu is terrific.”

  “Let’s hope they’ll like what they see.”

  “I like what I see.”

  “I hope so.” She laughed and went into the kitchen, returning with a plate piled with slices of pound cake.

  “Here. Take these over and pass them around to your guys—see what they think.”

  “Those guys will eat anything. I don’t think they’re the critics you should be courting.”

  “Go. Get out of my hair. I have a dozen more recipes to test today.”

  “Great.” Jason took the plate and headed for the door. “I’ll be back for lunch …”

  Every day for the following week, Sophie crossed something else off her list of must-dos. When she finally got around to the outside of the building, she asked Jason if he had a pair of snips she could borrow, and maybe a shovel.

  “What do you have in mind?” he asked.

  “I want to get rid of the weeds that are growing around the building—you know, make it look tidier. And I want to cut out that viney stuff around the front door so I can plant some flowers out there.”

  “What kind of flowers?”

  “Lilies, roses, and violets.”

  “Lilies we can do, and roses we can do. Violets are out of season right now.”

  “Is there something I can plant that’s sort of violet-colored?”

  “Let me take care of the outside. You go back to whatever you were doing.”

  “I was thinking about working out here.”

  “I’ve got it covered.”

  True to his word, by the end of the week the grounds had been cleared of all the trash, trees, weeds, and vines, and at the door, newly planted red Knock Out roses, yellow daylilies, and purple salvia grew. Ellie had talked Sophie into letting her paint not only the sign that would hang over the door, but the front window as well. The small bouquet of the three flowers, loosely tied together with a trailing blue ribbon, was exactly what Sophie had in mind, and, as she told Ellie, much better than anything she might have drawn. The bouquet would be Blossoms’ logo and would appear on the menus and the sign out front, as well as all the ads she’d run in the local paper.

  On Saturday, Jason and Sophie arrived early at Ellie’s to complete their contribution to the restoration of the carriage house, and
on Sunday, she invited Jesse, Brooke, Curtis, and Violet to Blossoms to test a meal.

  “I thought you were going to invite a lot of people the night before you open,” Jason said.

  “I am. This is the test before the test.”

  Curtis had been a bit cranky about the whole thing until he arrived and saw the name on the window.

  “Blossoms,” he read softly, but he made no comment.

  Once inside, however, he stood transfixed in front of the wall of photographs.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, where’d you get that picture of me in that rowboat?” he asked. At first, Sophie thought he was annoyed, until he turned and she could see the laughter in his eyes. “I must have been all of about eleven. Took on the big boys in the annual boat race.”

  “You win?” Jason asked.

  “Came in dead last.”

  “And look, Pop, here’s Gramma Rose …,” Sophie began.

  “… in her wedding dress.” His eyes misted over. “Never saw a more beautiful sight in all my life.”

  “She was very beautiful.” Sophie slipped her hand through his arm. “See, here she is as a girl. With Lilly and Violet.”

  “Let me see that.” Violet left her purse on a table and adjusted her glasses. “Oh, my word. Look at that. We were so young. Hard to believe we were ever that young.”

  “Here’s a picture of Lilly and Lynley Sebastian,” Curtis pointed out. He turned to Jason and said, “Did you know one of the first supermodels grew up right here in St. Dennis?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Jason stepped closer to take a look. “I remember her. All the guys had this poster of her on their bedroom walls.”

  “Did you?” Sophie asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You know that’s Ellie’s mother, right?” Jesse walked over to inspect the wall.

  “What? No.” Jason’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

  “That’s where Ellie gets her good looks,” Curtis told them. “Not that scoundrel of a father of hers. Lost a bundle to that son of a bitch.”

  “Okay, Pop, water over the dam.” Sophie steered him to a table, pleased that her photo wall was proving to be such a success.