Promise Cove

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Sure, that’ll work. I see mother of the year in there for that.” She grabbed a rubber bone lying on the lawn and Quake immediately started playing tug of war.

  “When’s Lilly start to work?”

  “After Easter. That gives us three weeks, plenty of time to put the finishing touches on everything, get the rooms ready before the doors open. That should give us enough time, don’t you think?”

  When Nick merely nodded, Jordan went on, “You should see the way the woman draws and paints. And the portraits of her kids. They look professionally done. She might be able to make a living as an artist if she could get some sales under her belt and—oh, my God! Why didn’t I think of that earlier? What if she could do that during the upcoming street fair?”

  “Good idea. Portrait artists are fairly common at street fairs.”

  “They sure are.” Jordan got to her feet and started pacing. “She could earn some extra bucks, too. Do you suppose doing something like that might jeopardize her stipend from the county though?”

  “Wait. Think about it for a minute, Jordan. The fair’s only days away, I’m pretty sure it’s probably too late to get a booth. And even if she could, what makes you think the good people of Pelican Pointe, namely Sissy Carr, would allow Lilly to go any where near the street fair to pick up a little extra cash? Murphy mentioned Sissy acts like she’s the queen of this thing. And Bran Sullivan, the vet said something about her trying to run the show. She isn’t going to like it much if Lilly comes along at this late date and starts raking in money for her portraits. Then there’s the booth fee. Who pays for that?” He scratched his chin. “I’ll be happy to put up the money but something tells me good old Sissy is going to put up some resistance there.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right. Well, that’s a damn shame. These aren’t caricatures Nick, these are honest to goodness beautiful portraits.”

  “I believe you. You still want to go this Friday?”

  “I think it’d be fun. But I was thinking Saturday might work better.”

  “What and miss the parade?” He asked, grinning.

  “I recognize sarcasm when I hear it. Okay, you talked me into it. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a Pelican Pointe parade.”

  “I was thinking of taking Murphy up on his offer to go fishing. They’re taking Wade’s boat out Tuesday planning to spend the night on the water.”

  “Like I said before, you should go. Wade Hawkins is quite a character.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s a retired history professor, a staunch environmentalist, and considers himself something of a local expert in the paranormal.”

  His eyes widened. He cocked his head. “You mean ghosts?”

  Jordan laughed. “That’s exactly what I mean. The man’s got this wild head of white hair and when he starts talking about spirits and ghosts, his stories just pull you in. It’s really more like a hobby, I guess. But last winter he told me he planned to write a book about his experiences. He’s serious about pursuing ghosts though. You know, he’s been out here a couple of times with some electronic meter and gizmo, claims his sensors went crazy. Says he wouldn’t be surprised if we had a ghost or two living right here.”

  Nick thought of Scott. Hell, he’d been the one to bring his ghost here with him. Cautious, he tried for the right words. “Have you seen any signs of that in the two years you’ve lived here?” He searched her face for any sign she was thinking about Scott, but Jordan simply laughed. “No. But don’t think I haven’t thought about using every angle I could to get tourists in here. If guests want a ghost story, I’m not above making one up.”

  Nick’s breathing leveled off. So she hadn’t seen Scott’s ghost. Weird. Was he just haunting him, then? “Wild head of hair, huh? I think I might have seen Wade walking around town. Pelican Pointe seems to have its share of quirky residents.”

  “Yep. You know, I was thinking I might head to church Easter Sunday for services. I gave up going when Scott left, especially when I found the town wasn’t that friendly. But I’ve been thinking, I might give it another try. Want to go with us?”

  He shook his head. “I think I’ll pass. I’m not much of a churchgoer.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, I’d welcome the company. The last time Hutton and I went everyone gave us a wide berth.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Beats me. But I’m not going for them, I’m going for me. And besides, me showing up always gets a reaction of sorts.”

  He took a long look at her face; saw the teasing look in her eyes. “In that case, count me in.” For some reason, he didn’t want her walking in there alone.

  She smiled. “Good. We’ll show up together and give ’em more fodder for the rumor mill.”

  Over the next couple of days, Jordan worked on her idea, the idea certain to help Lilly out financially during the street fair. To make it happen, she placed a few calls to Carla Vargas and subsequently met with Murphy who promised he’d make it happen. She ended up bringing a cynical Lilly on board less than twenty-four hours before the street fair.

  By the time Friday morning rolled around, even Hutton sensed the excitement in the air as the three of them headed into town for the parade.

  Parking was a problem, but they finally found a spot two streets over in front of the animal clinic. Once they dragged out the stroller, got Hutton situated, they headed for Main Street carrying their own lawn chairs.

  As soon as they rounded the corner, they saw the crowd and smelled hamburgers cooking on a grill somewhere near the food court set up in City Park. The town was a veritable madhouse. With school closed for spring break, parents dealt with anxious children of various ages, who ran around dressed in costume either waiting to be part of the parade or waiting for it to begin. After walking down Main Street for a good ten minutes, Nick and Jordan finally found space enough to set two chairs together in the parking lot at Murphy’s Market. They positioned the stroller between them and waited.

  At a few minutes after ten, they heard the high school band strike up the sounds of an off-key rendition of It’s a Small World After All and watched as the band began the march down Main. What they lacked in musical talent they made up for in enthusiasm. As the band got closer, spectators jumped to their feet, applauding. Hutton began clapping her hands too. And Jordan smiled as she watched her daughter get caught up in the music and the movements of the other kids dressed in their snappy, red and white band uniforms as they strode past.

  Decorated in red, white and blue streamers, Murphy’s vintage 1954 Chevy pickup followed on the heels of the band as it rolled past while the mayor stood in the bed throwing out candy to the kids along the parade route.

  After that came one of the county patrol cars with at least six kids hanging out the windows as the car flashed its lights and intermittently hit the siren. That too, got Hutton’s attention, but the noise scared her. When she puckered up to cry, Jordan leaned over to console her and bumped heads with Nick who had thought to do the same thing. Jordan looked over at Nick to see him grin widely, and then watched as he reached down, as if he’d been doing it forever, and pluck the baby out of her stroller. In a soothing voice he reassured her, “Don’t cry, Blondie. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around. You can count on that.” In response, Hutton buried her head on Nick’s shoulder and grabbed a fistful of his shirt just to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Watching him gently pat her back and alternately bounce her, Jordan had no doubt he meant every word of it. She didn’t know when it had happened, but some time during the last week, he seemed to have shed his uneasiness around Hutton. And lately, she’d noticed how much more relaxed he was in general, more at ease with everything he did around the house as if he were finally settling in, leaving some of his stress behind.

  Soon Hutton lifted her head, smiled into Nick’s face and put both of her hands on the sides of his head, shaking it back and forth. Jordan saw him laugh, shake his head to and fro for
her pleasure, and watched as he bit playfully at her little fingers. The man had completely calmed her down. When he turned her attention back to the parade, he had her waving back to the other kids without any fear of the loud noise from the siren. In less than two minutes, Nick had completely dissolved Hutton’s scary moment.

  Jordan’s stomach fluttered. Her heart felt like it turned over in her chest. She had no doubt the man would make a good father. Unfortunately, he didn’t even know it.

  A Dually came into view, pulling a flatbed trailer where Ricky Odem’s bluegrass band perched precariously on the back, performing their song, Rain Mountain. The next thing she knew, Nick’s bouncing had become dancing and Hutton was clapping her hands to the music as Nick moved back and forth in time to the rhythm of the song.

  For the next twenty minutes, much to the delight of the crowd, various decorated cars and pickups filed slowly past while the participants dispensed candy and Mardi Gras-like beads to every adult and child alike who lined the street.

  At the tail end of the parade, a ragtag bunch of kids who’d decorated their own bikes and skateboards waved flags and signs at the crowd as they proudly marched to the sounds of one, lone fife player, a sixty-ish man with a mane of wild, white hair. Bringing up the rear, flute to his mouth, Wade Hawkins in a sign of protest to Sissy Carr, led these stragglers down the street to kick off spring to what was perhaps the loudest cheer of the day as people got to their feet, applauding either their children or Wade’s efforts, Jordan wasn’t sure which. She leaned over to Nick, explaining, “That’s Wade for you. He’s a rebel at heart.”

  Looking at the faces in the crowd, Jordan had forgotten how much fun this could be. Why couldn’t the townspeople come together like this everyday? Willing to forgive and forget how nasty they’d been to her over the past two years, Jordan smiled in relief that maybe there was hope for this town after all.

  Nick had never watched anything so amateurish. Or so much fun.

  “There’s something I have to do,” Jordan told him suddenly as she pulled him along through the crowd. He followed, carrying Hutton in his arms while she pushed an empty stroller toward a row of booths set up along Beach Street.

  As they passed the food court, Nick sniffed the air like a hunter on a scent. The smell of meat cooking over a grill was too tempting. “While we’re here, let’s get a burger. I’m starving.”

  “In a minute,” Jordan said absently as she hurried along at a fast clip. When they reached a white canopied tent at the very end of the row with the flap open, Jordan pulled the stroller to a stop and stepped inside still pulling Nick along with her. Sitting in a folding chair, with a sketch pad on her lap, Lilly looked up at them and smiled nervously. Kyra sat in the empty chair while Joey played within arm’s reach inside the mesh Pack ’N Play Jordan had provided. There was nothing else in the tent except a small pedestal table large enough to hold a glass tip jar.

  Nick smiled at Jordan. “Son of a gun, you did it.” He’d never been more proud of any one before in his life. Knowing what kind of a fix Lilly and her kids were in, the fact that Jordan had pulled this off for Lilly said more about Jordan Phillips than anything else could have. His heart swelled with some undefined emotion he’d never felt for another woman. He wanted to reach out and kiss her. But he held back.

  “Murphy pulled some strings. And Carla approved it as long as Lilly draws for tips and doesn’t actually charge anyone for the portraits. That way, she isn’t employed by anyone and she can keep all the money in the tip jar as a donation.”

  Jordan looked at Lilly. “Did the kids catch the parade?”

  “They did, we just slipped back inside.”

  “Have you been busy?”

  She pointed to the tip jar. It had a handful of bills in it. But it was still early, not even eleven o’clock yet. “Murphy and Carla came by, got their portraits done, and then a couple of tourists from San Francisco.”

  Jordan pushed Nick into a chair. “I want one of Nick and Hutton.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Jordan.”

  She insisted, “I want one of Nick and Hutton. You’re good, Lilly. I know exactly where I intend to hang them.” She didn’t have a clue. “When you’re finished with these two we’ll take the kids out for lunch. I bet they’re hungry by now.”

  “You don’t have to babysit or feed the kids for me, too.”

  “Nick’s hungry, aren’t you, Nick?”

  He smiled, getting into his role. “Starving. We ate breakfast early. And the smell of burgers is getting to me.”

  Lilly giggled. She often giggled around Nick. As she picked up her sketch pad to begin drawing Nick’s face, she glanced up to see Wally Pierce standing in the open entrance to the tent.

  “Hey, Lilly,” Wally said nervously.

  Jordan exchanged looks with Nick as if she’d just realized why Wally would show up inside Lilly’s tent. His service station might have been across the street, but somehow Jordan didn’t think Wally Pierce was here because he needed a drawing of himself.

  Easy going, Wally Pierce had taken over running his father’s service station two years earlier after his dad’s heart attack. As the only mechanic within fifty miles Wally could have pretty much gouged everyone who walked through his doors except that he happened to be an honest, hardworking guy who’d grown up a local. Wally knew everyone in town as well as their car’s engines. Even though his work kept him hopping six days a week, he made a point of going surfing every day after he locked up for the day. Since he lived in a tiny house, near the waterfront, he walked to work in spite of owning a classic SS Chevelle muscle car. The only vice the guy seemed to have was surfing. Winter or summer, if Wally wasn’t at his service station on Beach Street, he spent his time in the water. Tall and gangly, with hair down to his shoulders, he even looked the part of a surfer. Even though he had just celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday, Wally had no steady girlfriend, mostly because he worked and lived in a town with less than three thousand people, where there was a short supply of single women his age, especially pretty ones like Lilly Seybold. Wally knew she had two kids. They’d been right there with her when he’d put a retread on her car. But since that day, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head.

  “Murphy says you can draw.”

  “Some,” Lilly replied shyly.

  Nick glanced up at Wally and recognized male interest when he saw it. “She’s got talent. Show him what you’ve got, Lilly.”

  Ten minutes later Lilly tilted her sketch pad in Nick’s direction. He looked back at a perfect rendition of himself. Jordan had been right. This was no caricature, but rather a good likeness of his face. “Looks just like me.”

  Lilly tore off the sheet with Nick’s portrait and handed it to Jordan. She immediately began sketching a wriggling Hutton who wouldn’t sit still on Nick’s lap. Leaning over Nick’s shoulder, as if in a supervisory capacity, Jordan whispered in his ear, “Told you she had talent.”

  Another ten minutes of watching Lilly had Wally growing more and more fascinated. Even a mechanic who knew nothing about art recognized talent when he saw it. When she finished Hutton’s portrait, he took it out of her hand. “You are good. I’m next,” he said, as he took Nick’s place in the chair.

  Realizing Wally’s interest in Lilly, Jordan decided she’d have to keep an eye on him. But not now, she thought, as she gathered up Joey and took Kyra’s hand. “We’re off to get lunch.”

  As soon as she stepped outside the tent, she spied all the people waiting in line. She shot a grin in Lilly’s direction. “Girlfriend, you may have a cramp in that hand of yours before nightfall. You have a line out the door.” With that, Jordan and Nick headed off with the kids, leaving Lilly to renew her dream as an artist, even if briefly.

  The food court consisted of ten booths set up along the grounds of City Park. As they approached the commons area, they spotted booths offering burgers, ribs, BBQ, and tacos from smoke-filled grills manned by busy cooks. Other vendors push
ed their funnel cakes, homemade ice cream, and kettle corn. A slew of cardboard tables draped with vinyl checkered tablecloths lined the foot paths where the crowd competed for a place to sit and eat the food they’d bought.

  Nick stood in line behind ten other hungry souls at a booth called The Burger Hut which had a banner stretched behind the grill claiming to serve the thickest, juiciest burgers at the fair. While he ordered the food, Jordan took the kids and went in search of an available place to sit. Pushing Joey in the stroller and carrying Hutton while poor little Kyra was forced to follow and keep up as best she could, Jordan was on the second sweep around the commons when she spotted a group of people getting up to discard their trash. She laid claim to the table like a shopper at a shoe sale. Once Kyra got settled in, Jordan waved wildly until she caught sight of Nick carrying a red plastic tray laden with burgers, hotdogs, fries and soft drinks enough for five people.

  As soon as he sat down he began doling out the food. “I got hot dogs for the kids but just in case I bought an extra burger. There’s fries and lemonade instead of soda.”

  “Good job. Are you sure you’ve never been around kids before, Nick?” Jordan teased with a twinkle in her eye.

  Nick stopped in mid-handout, saw the mischief in her eyes, and then grinned. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember.”

  Without embarrassing him any further, she turned to the kids. “Kyra do you want a hamburger or a hotdog?”

  “Hotdog,” the little girl said, clapping her hands in anticipation.

  “Hotdog,” Joey echoed, clapping his hands like he’d seen his sister.

  “Dog,” Hutton added, making it unanimous.

  After getting the kids fed, they spent the next couple of hours walking up and down the rows of booths looking at displays of handmade jewelry, hand painted ceramics, a needlepoint exhibit, and homemade quilts. A few beach scenes caught their eye done by a few of the local artists that they agreed would look good decorating the guest rooms, but the art was way out of Jordan’s price range. Maybe she’d ask Lilly if she could paint something similar. After seeing her talent, Jordan had no doubt the woman could draw just about anything.