~ Grace ~
Chapter 9
THE lobby was lit only by the lights on the twelve-foot-tall Christmas tree that stood in one corner and the lamp on the reservation desk, though Lucy was pretty sure there’d be no late or unexpected arrivals that night. Other than the good-natured chatter of the kitchen’s cleanup crew—one of them loudly singing along to Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” on the radio—there didn’t seem to be much activity in the inn. Lucy paused at the foot of the steps that led to the second floor and the family’s quarters. She didn’t fancy another night lying in bed staring at the ceiling, fighting sleep for fear of the nightmares returning. If she went upstairs now, she’d be expected to join everyone who was still awake while they watched the news in their shared family room and surely she’d be subjected to interrogation by her mother about her date with Clay.
She wasn’t up to either—nightmares or interrogations—so she walked down the hall into the darkest part of the inn, to the library, where she’d always found peace. The white lights were still lit on the tree, though all of the candles were extinguished. Lucy took off her boots then curled up in the leather chair and tried to sort through the evening.
The good news was that she’d finally been able to voice a long-overdue apology to Clay for the way she’d treated him so many years ago, and that he hadn’t pushed for any further explanation than what she’d offered, which, in retrospect, had been none at all. Why, she wondered, had it taken her so long to have gotten even that much out? Whatever else might have happened, Clay was still her friend, quite possibly the best friend she’d ever had. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his friendship until she’d sat across the table from him that night and the years seemed to drift away. At his core, Clay hadn’t changed much at all: his humor and good-natured earnestness had always been part of his personality, and as always, his enthusiasm—for his farming, his prospective brewery—had made her smile. Clay was a man who loved life, embraced it, and she was smart enough to realize that her life had been richer when he’d been a part of it.
And then there was that kiss—a lifetime in the making if you didn’t count those practice kisses back in seventh grade. She smiled in the dark and wondered why that had taken so long, too. It had come as such a surprise that her normal defenses never had a chance. But that was okay. There’d been such an air of fate about the entire night—including the kiss—that she hadn’t felt the alarm she usually felt when someone got too close.
Now if she could only work up the courage to tell him the rest of the story, to speak the words she’d never said aloud to anyone, maybe some part of her might be free.
“I was raped, Clay,” she whispered to the empty room. “That summer? I was raped …”
Lucy carried a stepstool to the library to reach the star on the top of the tree and remove the top tier of ornaments. Her mother was there waiting for her, staring out the window, the boxes for the ornaments laid out on the table.
“You look as if you’re having deep thoughts.” Lucy set the stool next to the tree.
“I was just thinking about Vanessa,” Grace told her.
“What about Vanessa?”
“Well, you know that she and Grady are getting married in a few weeks,” Grace began.
“And …” Lucy leaned on the back of a nearby chair, certain that her mother was leading up to something.
“And, well … I was wondering if you could do a favor for me.”
“Does this have something to do with Vanessa’s wedding?”
Grace nodded. “Oh, I know you don’t have time to plan her wedding for her, but she’s at such loose ends, I was wondering if maybe you could stop at her shop while you’re here and just give her a few pointers. She’s really feeling overwhelmed, and she’s such a dear girl—”
“Where’s the wedding going to be?”
“At her house. I offered to let her use any of the public rooms that aren’t booked on her date, but she really would like to get married at the house.” Grace smiled. “I think she was afraid Alice would be offended and start acting up if she missed the wedding.”
“Alice? You mean Alice Ridgeway? The woman who used to own Vanessa’s house?”
When Grace nodded, Lucy said, “The same Alice Ridgeway who’s been dead for, what, three years now?”
“Thereabouts.” Grace smiled calmly. “Vanessa says she’s still about from time to time.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’ll stop by the shop and see what I can do to help.” She turned her attention back to the tree, but not before adding, “I don’t suppose Alice is in the wedding party.”
“Don’t be disrespectful, dear.”
Lucy laughed and repositioned the stool.
“Are you sure you can reach the top?” her mother asked. “We could wait for Dan.”
“I think I can get it.” Lucy struggled to open the old stepstool. “How long has it been since this was used, Mom?”
“Probably too long.” Clay entered the room, an old brown leather bomber jacket over a black crewneck sweater and jeans and a cardboard container of coffee in his hand. “How ’bout if I get that?”
He reached up and snagged the star from the top and handed it to Grace.
“You still want that stool opened up?” he asked as he set the coffee on the table.
Lucy nodded. “I want to take down those ornaments.”
“You have the box for them?” He glanced around the room, then picked up a box from the table and handed it to Grace. “This looks like the one I took them out of. Why don’t you hold it, Miz Grace, and I’ll just pluck them off the tree.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Lucy and Grace said at the same time.
“Really,” Lucy told him. “You don’t have to …”
“I found myself with some time this morning, so I thought I’d stop over to help out.” He began to take the ornaments down. One by one, he passed them off to Lucy, who put them into the box in her mother’s arms.
“That’s very nice of you, dear,” Grace told him, “but you’ve already done so much to help out …”
“We were always taught that the job wasn’t finished till the cleanup was done.” He grabbed a few more glass balls from the tree and handed them down to Lucy. “You know, like when you bake something, you clean up everything you used when you’re finished, right? Bowls, spoons …”
“I don’t bake,” Lucy heard herself say.
“Never?” Clay looked over his shoulder.
She shook her head.
“Not even brownies?”
“Nope.”
“Chocolate chip cookies?”
Lucy shook her head again. “None of the above.”
“Miz Grace, are you listening to this?” He turned to her mother.
“I don’t know where I went wrong,” Grace deadpanned. “I tried to raise her right, Clay.”
“Oh, stop it, you two.” Lucy laughed. “I don’t bake and I almost never cook because I’m never home when it’s time to eat.”
“Are you telling me you eat out three times a day?” he asked.
“I don’t usually eat very much in the morning and I’m usually too busy at lunchtime to stop. I generally stay at the office until seven or eight—”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to keep track of the time. I promised my granddaughter I’d take her to Scoop after lunch.” Grace glanced at her watch, then put the box down on the table. “Oh, my, it’s much later than I thought. I guess the two of you can finish up this one little room without me.”
“No problem, Miz Grace,” Clay told her.
“I don’t remember you and Diana talking about going to Scoop today.” Lucy frowned, fully aware of what her mother was attempting to do.
Ignoring Lucy, Grace went up on her tiptoes to give Clay a smooch on the cheek. “Thank you very much for all of your help. You can tell your mother that she raised a fine boy.”
“Will do.” Clay smiled and turned to Lucy. “You might w
ant to pick up that box your mother was holding.”
“She’s not fooling me one bit,” Lucy grumbled, and wrapped the ornaments she’d been holding in tissue and put them into the box with the others. “Transparent as new window glass.”
“What?” Clay asked.
“She’s just trying to throw the two of us together, that’s what.”
“Works for me,” he muttered. “Does it bother you that I’m here?”
“No, it doesn’t.” Lucy exhaled loudly. “It’s just that she’s so blatant about it.”
“I think she thought she was being subtle.”
“About as subtle as …” Lucy paused. “I’m glad you’re here, and I appreciate all your help. You could be somewhere else, doing something more interesting.”
“No place I’d rather be, LuLu.” He turned and held out an ornament. “Nothing else I’d rather be doing.”
Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice and in his eyes, or maybe it was just that he looked so damned good, but before she could talk herself out of it, Lucy put down the ornaments and took three steps toward the tree. Clay met her halfway and opened his arms to her, folded her inside. For just one moment, she felt safer than she had in years.
“Thank you, Clay.”
“For …?”
“For being you. For being here today. For being here …” She swallowed hard. “Just for being here.”
“I’ve always been here for you, LuLu,” he said softly.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know that now.”
“So anytime you need me …”
She nodded.
There was commotion in the hall outside the library, and Lucy turned as the door opened.
“Oops. Bad timing.” Her brother stood in the doorway. “I’m interrupting—”
“No, no, Dan,” Lucy broke from Clay’s embrace. “I was just thanking an old friend for helping us out.”
“Right.” Dan was obviously not buying that, but she let it ride. “We’re taking a bunch of trees over to the firehouse for recycling. I thought I’d take this one, but I see you’re still working on it.”
“We need about five more minutes,” Clay told him. “Just a few more ornaments and the lights, and she’ll be good to go.”
“Dan, how are you doing with dates for the Magellan wedding?” Lucy asked.
“I’m working on it,” he told her. “It’s not as easy as it sounds, getting people to agree to give up the week they’ve had for years. In some cases, twenty years or more. We have people who came here as kids who come back every year with their families. They want the same week, even the same rooms. We’ve offered comps for a different week, but for some people, it’s been a really hard sell.”
“I understand, but at the same time I need to get back to Susanna with a couple of dates before she gets antsy and decides to go elsewhere.”
“I definitely don’t want that to happen. I’ll just keep making phone calls.” Dan turned to Clay. “I’ll pull the pickup around to this door.” He pointed toward the front of the building. “You can bring the tree out when you’re ready.”
“Want me to go with you over to the firehouse, help you unload the trees?” Clay asked.
“That would be great. Thanks,” Dan replied.
“Okay, see you in five.” Clay passed a handful of ornaments to Lucy as if they hadn’t just been caught cuddling by her big brother.
She made a point of looking for the lid to the box they’d just filled. “I guess most of the houses that were on the tour have had their decorations taken down by now. One of these years, I’m going to make a point of being home the weekend of the tour so I can see the houses all dressed up. Mom said the old Enright mansion was on the tour this year.”
“The highlight of the tour,” Clay told her. “People are still talking about it.”
“Damn, and I missed it. I would love to have seen that place all fancied up.”
“That could be arranged.”
“Really?” She stopped what she was doing. “How?”
“I happen to have an in with the Enrights.”
“Do tell.” She fit the lid onto the box and turned back to face him.
“My sister’s hot and heavy with Jesse.”
“So?”
“So Curtis is out of town visiting a granddaughter in Pennsylvania and Jesse has the key to the house. I have it on very good authority that the decorations are still up.” Clay grinned. “All it would take is a phone call.”
“Make it.”
Still grinning, he took his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. Brooke didn’t answer but he left voice mail.
“How old is that phone?” Lucy asked when he’d closed it over.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and started to slip it into his pocket. “A couple of years, maybe.”
“Let me see that thing.” She held her hand out and he dropped the phone into her palm. “Clay, this phone is, like, from the Dark Ages. No Internet … no email …” She looked up at him.
He took the phone back and put it into his pocket. “I don’t want to read emails or use the Internet on my phone. I just want to make and receive phone calls. Maybe send a text once in a while, but that’s it.”
“Dark Ages,” she whispered, and he laughed.
“I have thought about getting something newer, but I don’t spend that much time on the phone. Besides, I like this one. It folds over.”
“I think some of the newer ones fold over,” she told him.
“Maybe I’ll look around next time I’m near the phone store.” The phone in his pocket began to ring. He glanced at the screen then answered it. “Hey, Brooke—we need a favor …”
After he explained what he wanted, he asked Lucy, “What are you doing this afternoon?”
She hesitated. “I need to stop in to see Vanessa Keaton. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Brooke, how ’bout tomorrow afternoon?” He glanced at Lucy and asked, “One o’clock?”
“Perfect. Thank you, Brooke!”
“Lucy says thank you. See you then.” He put the phone away.
“Thanks, Clay. I’m really excited about seeing this place. I used to walk past it on my way to Miss Harriet’s for piano lessons and I’d dream about what the inside looked like. I can’t wait to see.”
“Like I said. All it took was a phone call.”
“Hey, Clay, you about finished in there?” Dan called from the lobby.
“We’re good. I just need to get the tree out of the stand,” Clay called back to him. “Give me one minute.”
Clay turned the tree over and pulled off the stand.
“I’ll take that,” Lucy told him. “I’ll clean it up and put it back into the closet with the decorations. Thanks again for your help.”
“Don’t mention it.” Clay hoisted the tree onto his shoulder. “I’ll pick you up at twelve forty-five.”
“I can’t wait.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the side of his face. “I’m so excited. Thanks so much for making that phone call.”
“Whatever it takes, LuLu.” He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. “Whatever it takes …”
At three o’clock, Lucy opened Bling’s door and stepped into Vanessa Keaton’s shop, which, for all its upscale merchandise, still retained a cozy, inviting vibe. Vanessa was stacking sweaters, and when she saw Lucy, her face lit up with a smile.
“Lucy! I heard you were in St. Dennis this week.” Vanessa put down the pile of sweaters. “So good to see you.”
“I couldn’t resist a chance to come in and see what new goodies you got in since my last visit.” Lucy scanned the shop’s walls, where shelves held bags and sweaters and shoes. She made a beeline for a tan leather tote. “Oh, this is perfect.” She opened the bag and looked inside. “And yes! Interior pockets!”
She looked up at Vanessa. “It’s so annoying when you have to go to a meeting and you have to carry a tote with your files and you have to carry a handbag, too. You can�
��t put your handbag stuff into the tote because it all rolls around together on the bottom and you can’t find a thing. But these pockets organize quite nicely. There’s even a deep pocket for a wallet or e-reader.”
Still smiling, Vanessa leaned on the counter. “You’d make a fabulous salesperson, you know that?”
“It’s perfect.” Lucy held it up. “Does it come in black?”
“Absolutely.” Vanessa pointed to the wall behind Lucy. “Three short steps away …”
“I’ll take it.” Lucy plucked the bag from the wall shelf.
“Easiest sale I made all week,” Vanessa said. “Thanks, Lucy.”
“I love it. I’m so glad I stopped in today.”
“How long are you staying this time around?” Vanessa took the bag from Lucy and began to wrap it in tissue.
“Just till Sunday.” Lucy opened her wallet and handed over a credit card.
“I heard you’re planning a big wedding.” Vanessa ran the card through the machine and returned it along with the slip for Lucy to sign.
“Everyone in town has apparently heard about it.” Lucy made a face. “We’ll see. We’re still in the talking stages. But I hear there’s to be another wedding soon.”
“Isn’t it great?” Vanessa held up her left hand to show off her sparkly ring. “I can hardly believe it myself, but yes, Grady and I are getting married in a few weeks.”
Home for the Summer Page 11
