“No, no. Just for a second … but no. All I remember about that man was that he had dark hair and an athletic build, which pretty well describes at least fifty percent of the men who stay here.” She nodded in the direction of the man they were discussing. “He just happens to fit the description, but he’s too young.”
She watched the man as he maneuvered the wheelchair to the table. A little girl of five or six jumped from her seat and skipped to him, and he lifted her up and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“No,” she told Clay. “That’s not him.”
“You’re sure.”
“Positive. And to tell you the truth, I don’t know if I’d recognize him after all these years. People change.” She reached for Clay’s hand. “I’m going to be here a lot this summer. Neither of us can start looking at every guest as a suspect. We’re both going to have to accept the fact that he’s out there somewhere, maybe, but he’s not here. It’s more than likely that he never came back because he was afraid I’d recognize him and would call the police.”
“I hate the thought of him being out there.”
“So do I. But I’ve come to the conclusion that I can either spend the rest of my life looking back—in which case I won’t be looking ahead—or I can leave it in the past, where it belongs. And frankly, I’ve had enough of the past. I can’t change what happened. All I can do now is live in the present and look forward to the future.” She smiled and pulled him closer. “You’re my present, Clay. Let’s focus on now. Us. Tonight.…”
“And the future …?” he asked.
“Will take care of itself.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “We’ll have the summer, Clay. Let’s take it one day at a time, and see where it leads …”
Chapter 22
AT one in the afternoon on Sunday, a stretch limo made its way up the long drive from Charles Street to the inn and parked in the front of the building. If there’d been any hope of shielding Robert Magellan and his bride from the photographers that flanked the very edge of the property—having been warned by Gabriel Beck and his officers that trespassing would not be tolerated—it had been tossed aside as Robert, Susanna, Robert’s young son Ian, Trula, and Father Kevin Burch took their time getting out of the car. The photographers knew there’d be a big payday when Robert walked with his bride-to-be and his cousin down to the water’s edge and pointed out several sights across the Bay.
Lucy watched from the steps, and sighed. If Robert and Susanna weren’t concerned that by tomorrow the pictures would be all over the Internet, she shouldn’t be either.
Trula shepherded Ian directly to the inn, and they were followed by the limo driver, who carried her bags. She hugged Lucy and pointed the driver to the lobby.
“I’ll get some help for you,” Lucy told him. “Trula, Mom’s been watching for you. She was at the front desk, last time I saw her.”
“I’ll find her. Oh, there she is.” Trula beamed, obviously as happy as the wedding couple that this week had finally arrived. She guided the three-year-old into the inn, and Lucy heard her call, “Hello, Gracie! Ian needs the bathroom. This way, Ian … let’s go with Gracie.…”
Lucy flagged down two of the bellhops and asked them to assist the limo driver. In a matter of minutes, the flurry of activity had begun. A second limo carrying the wedding party arrived, and several women and two men got out. Soon the lobby was filled with laughter and chatter at the desk as everyone signed in, got their keys, and admired the inn.
This is going to be a very long week. Lucy sighed. She walked down to the water’s edge to greet the wedding couple, and to invite them to come inside for the welcome luncheon she’d had prepared for them.
“Lucy!” Susanna waved to her and opened her arms for a hug. “Isn’t the weather glorious?”
“It is.” Lucy returned the hug. “It’s supposed to be beautiful straight through until next week.”
Even the normally reserved Robert had a hug for Lucy before introducing her to Father Kevin.
“Lucy’s the person who’s making this all happen,” Robert told his cousin. “She took Susanna’s wish list—and it was a whopper—and made it all come true. Lucy, meet Father Kevin Burch.”
“It’s Kevin,” the priest said as he offered his hand. “And I’ve heard wonderful things about you. I’m looking forward to the week. I understand you’ve arranged golf and sailing. Where do I sign up?”
Throughout the afternoon, the parking lot continued to fill as more and more guests arrived. Either Lucy or Daniel was there to greet everyone as they signed in, and both made it a point to try to remember the names of each of the guests. By four in the afternoon, all of the Sunday arrivals had checked in, and were eagerly exploring the inn and the printed agenda of the week’s proposed activities that everyone received with their room keys and their welcome gift bags.
“I can’t believe you managed to pull this all together, Lucy.” Susanna held the list of daily things to do in her hand.
“I had excellent assistants,” Lucy admitted. “No one person could have arranged all this in six months. Unless, of course, they did nothing else. Madeline here at the inn was a godsend. She kept track of everything here in St. Dennis, and my staff out in Los Angeles helped keep track of things.”
“Well, whatever you did, it worked.” Susanna was glowing, the perfect picture of the happy bride-to-be. Lucy prayed that nothing would happen during the week to dim that joy.
And for the most part, nothing did. All the instructors Lucy had hired—for golf, sailing, tennis, and boating—had satisfied students. The golf course and tennis courts were filled morning through dusk, and the boats the inn had chartered for fishing went out every day with enthusiastic would-be fisherman. The older children learned how to sail, and the little ones looked forward to their pony rides and story hours. The ladies enjoyed afternoon tea every day—the first had been so well received that Gavin had suggested they offer it every day, much to Susanna’s delight. Gavin himself had been a huge hit, preparing every meal as if for royalty, and the guests had been impressed enough that some had already booked weeks toward the end of the summer to return.
The hit of the week, however, had been the shopping trips into town. Every one of Susanna’s women guests had made it to Charles Street, where they cashed in their tokens for discounts on clothes and food and books and antiques.
“Honestly, I can’t keep madras anything in the shop this week,” Vanessa had confided to Lucy. “Every pair of shorts, every little sundress … gone. Not that I’m complaining, but I’d have stocked in twice as much merchandise if I’d known ahead of time what a preppy crowd this was going to be.”
“I’m so happy to hear that you’re doing well,” Lucy’d replied.
“It’s not just me,” Vanessa told her. “Every merchant in town is saying the same thing. Brooke says by four in the afternoon, there’s not a cupcake left in her shop. And Stef has had to double the amount of ice cream that she’s been making. O Susanna has been a huge hit.”
“Susanna and Robert loved that idea.” Lucy grinned. “And it certainly didn’t hurt that the ice cream is delicious. We’re serving it at the wedding reception on Saturday.”
“I know. Stef is about dead on her feet trying to keep up. She said there’s been a steady stream of kids in the shop from lunchtime right through till dinner. She’s had to reorder from her suppliers three times this week.”
“But that’s all good, right?”
“Of course. Even Carlo at Cuppachino has had to bring in extra counter help this week. Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s been business bonanza here all week long.”
“Maybe we’ll do those discount tokens again,” Lucy said, thinking out loud.
“Just make sure everyone knows you’re doing it so we’re all well stocked. Barbara at the bookstore said she was sold out of bestselling hardcovers by Tuesday and had to put in rush orders to get in enough books to last the week.” Vanessa added, “But I can attest to the fact that everyon
e who’s participated in this token thing has gone home every night with a smile on their face. We all think you’re a genius for thinking of it.”
“I’d love to take the credit, but it was Susanna’s idea.”
“Then please tell Susanna we all think she’s brilliant,” Vanessa told her.
Lucy did just that, at her first opportunity.
“I’m glad it’s worked out so well.” Susanna had been all smiles. “My friends come back from shopping every day and tell me what fun things they’ve found. Of course, it helps that you have some terrific places to shop and to eat here in St. Dennis. I’m thrilled to know that this week has been so much fun for our family and friends.”
By Friday, Lucy’s head was about to explode. The tents had all been set up and the chairs and tables delivered. The new gazebo had been perfectly sited and the roses Jason had planted in April and had tended so carefully had burst into bloom as if on cue, and the beds he’d designed and planted had filled in nicely with colorful, fragrant flowers. The rehearsal and dinner afterward was casual and fun, and everyone was in high spirits.
“Everything’s going right on schedule,” Madeline whispered to Lucy. “I’m almost afraid to say the words out loud.”
“Then keep it to a whisper,” Lucy replied. “I can’t believe there hasn’t been at least one thing that went wrong.”
“Well, except for that pony taking off across the lawn with the four-year-old on its back yesterday,” Madeline reminded her.
“Amazing that kid held on, and to think he’d never been riding before.”
“No one’s called in sick all week and all of the deliveries have come on time. It’s almost as if the inn and everyone in it are under some sort of magic spell.”
Madeline’s comment reminded Lucy of something she’d been meaning to discuss with her mother. She had the chance later that night. Grace was in the family room with Trula, who was on her way to bed.
“Big day tomorrow,” Trula all but sang. “We’re all having such a good time, Lucy. Everyone is so enjoying being here this week. You’ve certainly gone above and beyond to make sure everyone has a good time.”
“Thanks, Trula. It has been unlike any wedding I’ve ever done before.” Lucy sat in a chair that faced her mother.
“Well, as I told your brother, you should certainly give some consideration to expanding your wedding business,” Trula said.
“Don’t be surprised to see a lot of what we did this week make its way into the premium wedding package offered here before too long,” Lucy told her.
“Madeline couldn’t possibly handle it, dear. She’s a darling girl and we all like her, but she doesn’t have your skill or your imagination.”
“She did a great job,” Lucy protested.
“After you told her what to do,” Grace reminded her.
“She’s very well organized,” Lucy insisted. “I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without her.”
“She’s a good first mate, dear, but she’s not a captain.” Grace got up to see Trula to the door. “I’ll see you at breakfast, dear.”
“Gracie, thank you for all your help. Seeing Rob so happy after all he went through … well, it does my heart good.” Trula gave Grace a quick hug. “Good night, Lucy. See you in the morning.”
Grace closed the door behind Trula.
“I think I’ll turn in now, as well,” Grace told Lucy. “As Trula said, tomorrow will be a very big day.”
“Mom, what did Trula mean when she thanked you for all your help?”
“Oh, I guess she meant over all the years that we’ve been friends.” Grace dismissed it.
“That isn’t how it sounded. It sounded as if somehow she was thanking you that Rob was happy.”
“Now, why would she do that, dear?”
“I don’t know.” Lucy turned in her chair. “Mom, where’s your Ouija board?”
“In my closet.” Grace stopped and turned to Lucy. “How did you know I had a Ouija board?”
“Someone might have mentioned it.”
“Someone like Stef and Vanessa?”
Lucy nodded. “They seem to think you have some kind of power over that board.”
Grace looked uncomfortable, as if she wished to flee. “Lucy, it’s getting late, and I think this is a discussion for—”
“Gramma, you said we could read on your Kindle.” Diana appeared in the doorway.
“Why, so I did, dear.” Grace smiled. “Sorry, Lucy. Perhaps another time …”
Grace put her arm around her granddaughter’s shoulders. “Now, which book tonight?”
“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” Diana replied happily.
“Didn’t we read that one last week?”
The voices of Lucy’s mother and her niece trailed down the hallway.
“Dodged a bullet there, Mom.”
Lucy chuckled as she grabbed her bag and left the inn for Clay’s. It was already late and she’d have to be back here at the very crack of dawn to oversee the rest of the setup for the wedding and to take care of every last-minute detail. She’d need her wits about her and she was already exhausted from a very full week, but she’d come to rely on the peace she felt when she was with him. She’d come to love the farm and the farmhouse, and, she realized, she was loving Clay. She wasn’t sure where it would lead, and right then, she wasn’t up to thinking about it. She had one very big, very high-profile wedding tomorrow, and she was determined that everything would be perfect. Right now the Magellan wedding was priority. Everything else would have to wait its turn.
Mention of the wedding of Robert Magellan and Susanna Jones would appear in all the major newspapers during the following week, and every tabloid and weekly celebrity magazine would run photos of the festivities that had been taken with high-powered lenses from various spots at the edge of the inn’s grounds. Fortunately, the gazebo had been situated in such a way that the structure itself blocked the view of anyone on the north side or the Bay side of the property, so the only photos taken of the actual ceremony were taken by the photographer that the wedding couple had hired.
Lucy arrived at the inn just as the sun was rising. She went into the kitchen and begged for a cup of coffee from the breakfast crew, then took it outside to oversee the setup of the chairs in such a way as to form an aisle. There was a light mist off the Bay, but the sun would soon burn it off, and if the weather forecast was correct, the temperature would not exceed eighty and the humidity would remain relatively low.
The chairs were placed as directed and the rose petals that would be strewn along the path to the gazebo were in a cooler to be tossed about a half hour before the ceremony. Lucy went into the tent and spoke with the member of the inn’s crew who was in charge of placing the furniture in one end of the tent to be used for cocktails.
“Sofas here and here.” Lucy pointed. “Love seat there, chairs there, there, and there. Questions?”
“None,” she was assured.
“Great. Now where’s the guy who’s supposed to be putting down the dance floor? He was supposed to have done that yesterday.…”
She checked to see that all the paper lanterns would be lit when the time came, then greeted Madeline, who arrived at seven thirty.
“Find the guy with the dance floor, please.” Lucy handed off the sheet with the specifications to Madeline and went inside to make sure all was ready for the champagne breakfast they would soon be serving on the veranda that looked out on the Bay.
The kitchen was ready, but the centerpieces for the outside tables had somehow been taken into the dining room instead.
“Crap,” she muttered, and began the task of moving the centerpieces.
“What can I do to help?” Clay came into the room as if she’d conjured him.
“Ordinarily, I’d say thanks, but I’ve got this under control.” Lucy stood with her hands on her hips. “Today, however, I’ll ask you to help me move the centerpieces.” She stopped to kiss him on the lips. “And thanks
for ignoring me when I said there wouldn’t be anything you’d have to do today. How did you know …?”
“I just figured you could always use another pair of hands.” Clay carried the flower arrangements, two at a time, back to their boxes in the lobby. “I never saw vases like these. They look like they’re made out of tree trunks.” He held one up to take a closer look.
“They are made from tree trunks. We had holes cut into them large enough for the glass vases to fit, see?” Lucy pulled one of the glass cylinders from the wood.
“Very cool.”
“They are, but they go on the veranda. The arrangements in the silver containers are for the reception, but those tables aren’t set up yet, so they have to stay in here for now.”
“I can handle this,” he told her. “You go ahead and do whatever else you have to do.”
“Thank you. You shall receive a suitable reward.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Lucy laughed and checked in with the kitchen, where preparations were in high gear. It seemed as if only minutes passed before guests started streaming in for breakfast. She checked the time and realized it was already nine.
The rest of the day went quickly. When she was satisfied that all was on schedule, Lucy ran upstairs and changed into the light silk sheath she’d brought home for the occasion. She pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and put on a little makeup, then went to the room they’d set aside for Susanna and her attendants for hair and makeup and to dress for the wedding. Lucy knocked on the door, then went in. Susanna had just arrived and was checking on her dress, which had been delivered earlier.
“I can’t believe the day is finally here.” She was all but singing.
“Believe it.” Mallory Russo, one of the investigators for the Mercy Street Foundation and, as Lucy figured out over the course of the week, Susanna’s closest friend, entered the room and went straight to the closet to hang up her dress. “Where’s the lady who’s doing hair?”
“She should be here any minute.” Lucy checked the time. The hairdresser was almost ten minutes late. She was just about to call the woman when she arrived with her assistants. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back as the last of the attendants, Emme Caldwell, came into the suite with her daughter, Chloe, the flower girl.
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