The next morning, back on the plane for a quick trip to Paris, where we walked the Champs-Élysées, lunched at a favorite place of Robert and Susanna’s, touristed a bit, then dinner at a restaurant in the Eiffel Tower. A stay at the Ritz. Breakfast in the morning, a few hours of shopping (I am ready for family birthdays!), then it was back to the airport, onto the plane, and homeward bound! An amazing forty-eight hours—April in Paris, indeed! It was a trip I’ll never forget, and of course, a very happy birthday for my oldest and dearest friend.
We’re back at Robert’s home now, and settling in for the night. I’d planned on leaving first thing in the morning for St. Dennis, but I’m severely jet-lagged and Trula thinks I should plan to stay one more day, if for no other reason than to sleep! I just may do that. Lucy will be arriving on Thursday, and of course I want to be there for her, but since Susanna’s appointment at the inn is on Friday and she has offered to drive back with me, I just may take her up on the offer. It seems I’m really not as young as I used to be, but oh, my, I certainly did enjoy myself! It was a lovely trip and a lovely birthday for my dear friend, who declared this to be her best birthday ever. I was so happy to have been included in the family celebration and to have shared in this special time with them. Bless Robert for his thoughtfulness.
And now back to work, sorting through the ads for next week’s edition of the St. Dennis Gazette. I feel like Cinderella, the day after the ball …
~ Grace ~
Chapter 14
LUCY loved the view from the pinnacle of the Bay Bridge—officially the William Preston Lane Jr. Memorial Bridge, but few ever referred to it as such. Staring straight ahead, the Eastern Shore in her sights, she always knew she was as good as home once she hit this spot. A bit of chill still clung to the April air, but she could smell spring and the promise of warmer days, and the very thought of it made her smile. St. Dennis warmth wasn’t the same as L.A. warmth. It had a smell and a feel and a sound track all its own, and she’d missed it. She rolled down the windows in the rental car as she came off the bridge and inhaled.
Delicious.
She turned on the radio and found a station to match her mood, sang along with Heart’s “Alone” at the top of her lungs, and felt the stress and anxiety of the past few months melt away with every mile. She had survived three months of working nonstop, three months of weddings, anniversaries, sweet sixteen parties, fancy luncheons—even a tea for the duchess of something or other who hailed from some small European principality Lucy’d never heard of, one that had been gobbled up by some larger country years ago. The duchess had kept her titles, her jewels, and her contacts abroad and was known for her elaborate soirees. Last year, she’d entertained in Shanghai and D.C. This year it was L.A.’s turn, and it had been a coup for Shaefer & Sinclair to have landed the event.
But it was all behind her now. She’d left careful instructions for Ava and Corrine for those events they’d be handling in her absence—events for which they’d shadowed her since the beginning of February. She had her electronic files and carefully constructed lists and had left them both with timetables for reporting to her. She felt as comfortable as she was ever going to be in leaving work behind for others to do. Her focus was now—had to be—on the Magellan wedding and everything that needed to be done to pull off something spectacular in a short amount of time.
Of course, she had her endless lists of things to do here in St. Dennis, but she was taking one thing at a time. She’d be meeting with Susanna at the end of the week, and they’d walk the grounds at the inn along with Daniel, whom Lucy had already warned about Susanna’s wish to move the gazebo. She’d called Brooke’s former brother-in-law, Jason Bowers, to discuss some thoughts she had for the landscaping, and he agreed to meet with her and Daniel on Saturday to go over her ideas. She’d get together with Olivia about the flowers on Monday, and sit down with the inn’s chef on Tuesday. She still had to contact the owner of the golf course, find a tennis pro, and someone to give sailing lessons to the kids. There was no doubt in Lucy’s mind that she could accomplish everything in ten days.
Well, maybe twelve … but by the time she left St. Dennis, she’d have it all under control.
She changed the radio station, found a country station that her mother listened to all the time, and tried to remember the words to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.” Before she knew it, she was making the right onto the road that would take her into St. Dennis. She could smell the river that ran behind the trees, and a soft scent of new earth. She glanced at the Madison farm as she flew by and thought she saw Clay’s Jeep parked next to the house. Without thinking, she made a U-turn at the first opportunity and turned into the lane leading to the farm.
She’d promised herself that she’d make a point to carve out more time to spend with Clay this visit. She’d found herself looking forward to their daily emails and nightly chats, and realized she didn’t want to wait until later to see him.
She parked behind the Jeep, got out of the car and looked around, and took a deep breath. She started toward the back porch, planning to knock on the door, when she saw Clay on a tractor out in the field. She sat on the back steps and watched, and waited.
This farm, these steps, held so many memories for her. When they were kids, on hot summer days, they’d swim in the pond, then dry off on the grass. They’d wrap their wet towels around them and sit on the steps and Clay’s mother would bring Popsicles out for them. The memory was so strong that Lucy could almost taste the cold icy sweetness, feel the sugary liquid trickle down the wooden stick to her fingers, leaving a sticky path in its wake.
She heard the tractor’s engine cut, saw Clay park the tractor next to the barn. He jumped down and took a long pull on a plastic water bottle, then looked around. She knew the second he spotted her. He waved a hand and started toward the farmhouse. She watched him for a moment, watched his familiar amble pick up the pace as he drew nearer. She got off the steps when he was ten feet away and was in his arms before she realized what she was doing.
“Hey,” he said softly, after he’d given her a quick kiss on the mouth. “I’m a little sweaty …”
“You look fine sweaty.” She slowed him down for another kiss. “Farmers are supposed to be sweaty.”
“I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow.”
“I finished what I had to do out there, so I thought I’d take an earlier flight.”
“How long have you been here?”
Lucy looked at her watch. “About a half hour or so.”
“What were you doing all that time?”
“Reminiscing.” She sat back down on the step on which she’d been sitting.
“About anything in particular?” He sat down next to her.
“Popsicles, for one thing.”
“Those double ice jobs my mom used to give us?”
“You always took the grape and I always wanted the lime.”
“ ’Cause I didn’t care if my mouth turned purple, but you did. You always thought the green wasn’t as noticeable. I never had the heart to tell you that lime-green lips weren’t an especially good look.”
“Thanks for sparing me.”
“So what else besides Popsicles?” he asked.
“Chickens.”
“Chickens,” he repeated flatly.
“Remember there used to be that chicken house next to the barn?” She pointed out toward the field. “And you had that big rooster that used to chase me every time he got loose?”
“Big Red.” Clay nodded. “He used to chase everyone, even my dad and the dogs.”
“What happened to the chicken house?” she asked. “Where are the chickens?”
“A hurricane took down part of the house about ten years ago. We haven’t had chickens since.”
“You should build another chicken house.” She poked him in the ribs. “What kind of farm has no animals, not even a couple of Rhode Island Reds or a dog?”
“The dog is on the list. Brooke pr
omised Logan a dog once they moved and got settled, which they have, so it’s any day now for the dog. I figured I’d get one, too. And I’ll make a mental note to put chickens on the list of things to do. After I build a henhouse.”
She noticed lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth. “I guess you’ve been pretty busy.”
“Farming’s pretty much a full-time thing, especially this time of the year.”
“I’ve been getting that impression from your emails. Planting … how many kinds of barley? Three?”
“Well, it’s four now. Wade found seed for some heirloom variety he’s been stalking for the past couple of years.” He nodded in the direction of the field.
“That’s what I’m doing this week—getting it into the ground.”
“And then there were those hops roots …”
“Rhizomes,” he corrected her.
“Right. I lost track of how many different kinds of those you said you planted.” She looked up at him. “How many kinds of beer are you planning on making, anyway?”
“How ’bout if we talk about that over dinner?” he asked. “Or do you think Grace would be upset if you didn’t have dinner at home your first night here?”
“Mom won’t be back until tomorrow. She’s off celebrating Trula’s birthday. I called my brother from the airport, and he said she was staying an extra day because she was jet-lagged.” Lucy smiled. “Apparently Robert Magellan flew Trula and her entourage in his plane on a whirlwind trip to London and Paris as a surprise. Daniel said Mom was bubbling over like New Year’s champagne when she called to tell him.”
“Nice to have your own plane. Nice birthday present.”
“Well, you know, Trula and Robert’s cousin, Kevin, are the only family Robert has.”
“I thought Trula wasn’t related to Robert.”
“Not by blood, but she was his grandmother’s best friend from girlhood, and when his grandmother passed away, she made Robert and Kevin—who are really like brothers—promise to take care of Trula since she had no family at all. So she’s been like a great-aunt/grandmother to both Robert and Kevin—he’s a priest—and Robert has always made a place in his home for Trula.”
“Sounds like Magellan is a nice guy.”
“He seems to be.” She put her arm though his. “And speaking of nice guys, did I tell you how much I appreciated the pictures you emailed me from Vanessa and Grady’s wedding?”
“You did. I’m only sorry you weren’t here for it. Their house looked great, and Vanessa told everyone that you were the one who gave her all her ideas.”
“Aw, that was nice of her. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been here, too. I hope someone took a video that I could watch sometime.”
“Wade took one, since Steffie was in the wedding. I’m sure they’d be happy to show it to you while you’re here, if you have time.”
“I’ll try to make time for that.” And some other things, she’d promised herself. This visit, she would work her tail off for the June wedding, but the last time she was home, she’d had a taste of reconnecting with her St. Dennis roots, and the taste had left her wanting more.
“So was that a yes for dinner?”
Lucy nodded. “I would love to have dinner with you, but I want to go to the inn first and get settled.”
“Great. I’ll run in and take a shower and I’ll pick you up in an hour or so.”
“Make it two,” she said. “There are a few things I have to discuss with Daniel and we agreed to sit down when I got home today to work out some of the details for the wedding. I’m meeting with Jason Bowers on Saturday, and there are some issues I need to go over with Daniel.”
He walked her to the car and leaned in through the open window to kiss the side of her face. “I’m really happy to see you, LuLu. I’m really glad you’re home.”
“Me, too. See you in a while.” She smiled and made a U-turn in the wide lane, and waved when she passed him on the way to the road.
She’d been tempted to blow a kiss but didn’t because she knew it would be too corny, but the thought made her laugh out loud.
She drove through the center of town at a leisurely pace, waving to Gabriel Beck, the chief of police and Vanessa’s half brother, and to Barbara Noonan, who was closing up her shop, Book ’Em, for the day. She drove past Bling, and made a mental note to stop in first thing in the morning to tell Vanessa how much she enjoyed the pictures of her wedding that Clay had sent. Or maybe, she mused, I’ll just get up early and come down to Cuppachino for my coffee like the rest of the locals do.
She’d meant it when she vowed to make time for the St. Dennis native within her. She wanted to spend an afternoon with her nephew, D.J., and Diana, her niece. She wanted to take long walks around the town and reacquaint herself with its streets and its houses. There were people she wanted to get to know a little better, and people she wanted to meet. It was a lot to cram into two weeks, but if she stuck to her schedule, she just might be able to fit it all in.
The parking lot at the inn had two full rows of cars, so she had to leave her rental at the end of the second row.
“I didn’t realize you did such a business this time of the year.” She poked her head into the office, where her brother was reading an email.
“Thanks to the Chamber of Commerce for being so foresighted, St. Dennis has something going on every month that draws the tourists.” He looked up and smiled. “Good to see you, Lucy.”
“Likewise.” She took a seat in one of the wing chairs. “So what’s the attraction in April?”
“Here at the inn, we do an April showers special getaway weekend. Reduced rates. Spring garden tour. Later in the month there’s the wine festival.” He grinned. “There’s always something going on.”
“Great marketing of the community.”
“Like I said, thank the Chamber of Commerce for being so proactive.” He spun halfway around in his chair. “So we have you for a whole two weeks now, I understand.”
“I should be able to accomplish the bulk of what I need to do.” She opened her bag and took out her notebook. “There’s going to be so much to do for the Magellan wedding. I told you Susanna wants the gazebo moved—”
“I have no problem with that.” He held both hands palms up. “I said, whatever she wants, and I meant it. Whatever we have to do, I’m for it, if it makes her happy. For one thing, this wedding is great for business. For another, Mom wants Trula to be happy, which means Susanna and Robert have to be happy. The details are all in your hands.”
“I’m going to need some help here in St. Dennis. I was wondering if Madeline could give me a hand with some of those details.”
“Absolutely. As long as she can balance the affairs she’s running here with whatever you need her to do, I’m fine with it.”
“We might have to hire someone part-time just to work on this.”
“Do what you have to do.”
“I’ll also need some office space.”
“There’s the little annex right next door here. Mom uses it occasionally, but for the most part, it’s just sitting there.”
“I’ll take it. I’d like to keep the wedding details somewhat confidential, so I appreciate the privacy.”
“It’s all yours.”
“Terrific.” Dan dangled a pen from between his index and middle fingers. “So is that it, for now?”
“For right this moment.” Lucy nodded. “We will need to go over the garden plans with the landscaper, but I spelled that all out to you in that last email I sent.”
“Right. Plant tons of roses. Move the gazebo. Plant flower beds. Got it. I’m fine with all of that.”
“And I’m meeting with the chef early next week …” She paused. “Dan, your chef is really good, isn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t. No worries there, sis.”
“Good, because he’s going to be very, very busy that week.”
“What else?”
“There are some odds and en
ds to talk about, but right now I have to …” Lucy stood and took two steps toward the door.
“Now I get to tell you my news,” Daniel told her. “Sit back down, okay?”
“Sure. Is something wrong? You look so serious.…”
“This is serious.” He leaned forward on his desk. “Since it got out that Robert Magellan chose this inn for not only his wedding but for a weeklong stay for all his guests, we’ve been having trouble keeping up with all the calls.”
“How did it get out there, anyway?” Lucy frowned. Her office never broadcast who their clients were, and she hadn’t seen an article about Robert and Susanna in which the wedding was discussed.
“Mom and Trula were talking about it on their Facebook pages, and I guess—”
“Mom and Trula are on Facebook?” Lucy choked. “Our mom who can barely send an email has a Facebook page?”
“Diana set up the pages for them the last time Trula was here and showed them how to use it. Anyway, it’s been great for business. Almost too great.” He took a deep breath. “We have a shot at two very important affairs. One is the September wedding of Senator Francis’s daughter. The other is an anniversary weekend that sort of blows back to the Magellan thing.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“The family is one of those that’s been coming here for like fifty years. The old man remembers Dad, used to sail with him. They always book that last week in June and did not want to give it up. I had to bargain with them to get them to move their week.”
“What sort of deal did you have to make with them?”
“They agreed to move to the middle of July, but only if the anniversary party is held here.”
“So, you can accommodate that, right?”
“Yeah, but there’s a string.”
“What’s the string?”
“You have to do the party.”
She laughed. “Uh-uh. No way will I have time to—”
“Lucy, it’s that, or they don’t give up their rooms.”
Home for the Summer Page 18
