The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge

by Stewart, Mariah

  The other chair began to rock slowly. Curtis knew Rose meant business when the chair rocked.

  “She was afraid she was disappointing me the way Craig did, Rose. Can you imagine?” His voice softened. “I told her she isn’t anything like her father. Yes, of course I think about him.” He paused. “Too late for that, my love … I don’t see a reconciliation in this lifetime. It’s been too many years. I don’t know him anymore. I suspect Craig most likely feels the same way about me.”

  He rocked slowly.

  “His girl is a lot like you, yes. Yes, she is. And I do respect her for wanting to do her own thing. I just wish her doing her thing didn’t interfere with her doing my thing,” he grumbled.

  A few more minutes of rocking. “Why does everyone think they have to keep things from me? I wish Sophie had told me sooner. I wish she’d come to me instead of Violet. And I wish that Violet hadn’t gone behind my back. And yes, I wish Jesse had told me when he found out. Seems like everyone I love best is hiding things from me, like they don’t trust me.”

  The rocker stopped abruptly.

  “Interfere? Why would they think I’d interfere?” He snorted. “When did I ever interfere in someone else’s business? Rose?”

  As the scent began to fade from the room, Curtis muttered, “Ah, nuts,” turned up the volume on the TV, and tried to lose himself in the day’s affairs.

  Chapter 18

  Some people turned to alcohol in times of stress. Sophie, however, required fat and sugar to bring her back down from the high level of anxiety she’d achieved.

  “Ice cream.” She drove past her house and made a right at Cherry Street. “A double.”

  She’d had no way to anticipate her grandfather’s reaction to her news, never having tangled with him before. He obviously had been displeased, but he hadn’t yelled or lectured, and he hadn’t disowned her, so as far as Sophie was concerned, it was all good. Still, the anxiety demanded to be assuaged.

  She parked in the municipal lot across from the police station, waved to Beck, the chief of police, who was backing out of his reserved spot in front of the building, and walked to One Scoop or Two.

  Ice cream and maybe some gossip, she was thinking as she walked past the open window. There appeared to be quite a crowd inside, not surprising as the temperatures had been steadily climbing over the past few days. The bell chimed when Sophie opened the door, and Steffie, the owner and ice-cream maker, glanced up from behind the counter where she was filling an order.

  “Hey, Sophie.” Steffie gave a wave with the hand that held the scoop right before dipping it into the case and coming out with a perfectly round ball of something darkly chocolate. “Great wedding last weekend. What do you hear from Jesse and Brooke?”

  “Nothing,” Sophie called back and got in line behind a woman who had a toddler in each hand. “Which is as it should be, since they’re on their honeymoon. They’ll be back soon enough.”

  “True.” Steffie handed over the cone she’d been building and directed the customer to the cash register, where a girl with long, light-pink braids rang up the sale.

  Sophie studied that day’s selections, which were written on a chalkboard hanging behind the cash register. So many flavors, so little time …

  “What can I get you, Sophie?” Steffie asked.

  “I don’t know what I want. Everything sounds fabulous.”

  “Of course everything is fabulous.” Steffie grinned. “But you want the coconut pineapple mango medley.”

  “I do?”

  “You do. Just made it this morning and there’s only a little bit left. It’s divine, if I do say so myself.”

  “Sold. Two scoops on a sugar cone, please.”

  “Might only be enough for one generous scoop,” Steffie told her. “Does it have to be two?”

  Sophie nodded. “It’s been that kind of day.”

  “Well, in that case, we’ll put a scoop of chocolate ecstasy on the bottom—it has little bits of bitter chocolate and fresh coconut in an extra-dark chocolate base. We’ll put the fruity flavor on top.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  When she’d finished scooping and declared the cone a masterpiece, Steffie handed it over.

  “This looks like sin on a sugar cone.” Sophie sampled as she proceeded to the cash register.

  “Only if your idea of sin is eating an entire day’s worth of calories at dessert.” Steffie turned to the girl at the cash register. “Paige, this is my friend Sophie. She’s Jesse’s sister.” To Sophie, she said, “Paige is my niece, my brother Grant’s daughter. I make her work for me after school to keep her out of trouble.”

  The girl with the pink braids crossed her eyes and made a face at Steffie.

  “Darling girl.” Steffie smiled sweetly. “Dallas is her stepmama. She keeps threatening to put Paige in one of her movies. Of course, it would have to be a horror film …”

  Paige stuck her tongue out behind Steffie’s back, and Steffie laughed as if she’d known it was coming.

  Sophie paid for her ice cream, said goodbye to Steffie and her niece, and walked out into the warmth of an early evening in late spring. She strolled along the boardwalk that led to the marina. The long dock jutted into the Bay and boats bobbed up and down on the gentle waves. It was peaceful and helped restore her after the tension leading up to the conversation with her grandfather. All in all, that had not gone badly, and while she was grateful, she was still drained by the self-inflicted drama that preceded the conversation.

  There were benches every ten feet or so along the Bay, most of them empty at this time of day. She selected one near the end of the dock, sat, and nibbled at her ice cream. Seabirds landed and took off, some on the water, some on the wooden pilings. It was like a scene from a magazine, with the sun setting across the Bay and the birds swooping around, and she was happy to be part of it. Two young men in their early twenties hopped from the deck of a boat to the dock, carrying a large cooler between them. From the way they were struggling, she surmised that they must have made one heck of a catch. Crabs or fish, she wondered, and was about to ask when she heard someone calling her name.

  “I thought that was you.” Jason sauntered along the pier, a ball cap backward on his head, his dark glasses dangling from the neck of his shirt, and that bit of facial scruff she’d decided was adorable.

  “Where were you?” She scooted over on the bench to make room for him.

  “On my way to Walt’s for dinner. I’d ask you to join me, but it appears you’ve already moved on to dessert.”

  “It’s Dessert First Wednesday,” she told him. When he raised an eyebrow, she added, “I’ve had A Day, but it’s all good now.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  She thought it over: did she want to share all that drama with Jason? Maybe.

  “I had to tell my grandfather something I knew he wasn’t going to like. I was a bundle of nerves going in, but it worked out okay.” She shifted on the bench so that she could face him. “I wasn’t sure how he’d react. I’ve never been in a situation with him where I knew I was going to incur his disapproval, and I didn’t know what he’d do.”

  “I’ve always found your grandfather to be a pretty reasonable guy.”

  “Your relationship with him is different.”

  “I’m sure it is.” Jason settled against the back of the bench, one arm draped casually behind Sophie. “But I know him pretty well, and I know how much he cares about you, so I can’t imagine him being anything but supportive of you.”

  “I’m sure he loved my dad once, too, but look what happened there.” Sophie explained, “They haven’t spoken in years. For most of our lives—Jesse’s and mine—we never saw our grandparents. It’s just been the past couple of years that we’ve reconnected.”

  “What brought you back together with him?”

  “Jesse decided it was time. We knew that there was a family law firm in St. Dennis, and one day, Jesse just decided he wanted to be part of
it. So he came here and made an appointment with Pop …”

  “He had to make an appointment to see his own grandfather?”

  “Yes, and from what Jesse told me, that didn’t go so well at first. Somehow, he convinced Pop to give him a chance—to give him one year at the firm—and Pop agreed.” Sophie smiled. “My brother’s a very good lawyer, and he showed ’em just how good. He and Pop sort of worked their way into an understanding, and their relationship grew from there. Ours, too—mine and Pop’s. But it’s just another thing I’ll never really be able to forgive my dad for.”

  “For keeping you from your grandparents?”

  She nodded. “I wish I could have known my grandmother while she was still here.”

  “Hey, it’s never too late. According to Curtis, she never left.”

  “Don’t start that again.” Sophie laughed.

  “I’m glad to see you laugh. For a moment there, you almost looked like you were going to cry.”

  “For a moment, I almost did,” she admitted. “My grandfather means a lot to me, and knowing he wasn’t going to be happy with me upset me a lot.”

  “How’d you leave it with him?”

  “He’s okay. He’s not happy, but he didn’t slam the door in my face, either. I guess it’s one of those situations where he knows that he’s going to have to accept something he doesn’t like, and that probably isn’t easy for him.”

  “I don’t see him staying mad at you for too long.”

  “I hope he doesn’t.”

  “Would it be prying if I asked what you did?”

  “I told him I was going to buy a restaurant.”

  “You mentioned that the other day, but I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “Oh, I’m very serious. I bought a place …”

  “Already? Where?”

  “Here. In St. Dennis.”

  “Great. That means you’re definitely planning on staying around for more than just a little while. Good news for me.” Jason grinned. “So tell me about your restaurant. Would I know it? Have I been there?”

  “I doubt it. It’s not really a restaurant yet. It’ll be awhile before it’s up and running, but I’ll let you know when.”

  “Are you going to tell me where it is?”

  She paused. “I’d rather show you. And I will, on Tuesday. That’s when I go to settlement. After Tuesday, it’ll be all mine.”

  “It’s a date.” He tugged at a strand of her hair. “And speaking of dates, since you’re not interested in having dinner with me tonight, how ’bout Friday night?”

  “I’d love to. Sure.” She licked ice cream from her fingers. “What time?”

  “Seven work for you?”

  She nodded.

  “Want me to pick you up at the office?”

  “No. I’ll be sweaty and disgusting from moving boxes around. I’ll need to go home and shower and change.”

  “You’re staying in Jesse’s old place on Hudson Street, right?”

  “I am. Do you know the address?”

  “Sure. We played poker there a few times.”

  Sophie made a face. “Poker? At Jesse’s? I didn’t know he played.”

  “He shouldn’t.”

  “That bad, eh?”

  “I don’t remember him ever winning a hand.”

  “Slow learner.” She wiped her hands on the last of the clean napkins and balled them up in her hand. “I guess I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “I guess you will.”

  Jason stood and offered her a hand. As he pulled her up, her gaze lingered on his fingers. She hadn’t noticed until then how big his hands were. They were hands with character, not particularly smooth, given the nature of his work, but not rough, either. She had a momentary flash of those hands on her skin, and she averted her eyes.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked.

  “Just down there in the lot.”

  “Want me to walk you?”

  “No. Go eat your dinner. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Right.” He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on the side of her mouth, then started to walk away. He’d gone about ten feet, then stopped and called to her. “Hey, did you hear about the lawyer who witnessed a car accident?”

  “Yeah, yeah. He handed out business cards and said, ‘I saw the whole thing. I’ll take either side,’ ” she replied. “I told you, I’ve heard them all.”

  “How ’bout this one, then …”

  “Save it for Friday.” Sophie laughed and kept on walking. “And get some new material.”

  Friday started out rainy and cool, but by five o’clock the clouds had lifted and the sun was shining.

  “Lots of tourists coming into town this weekend. Place is going to be mobbed,” Violet grumbled as she straightened up the office kitchen, something she did every Friday before she left for the weekend. Sophie had offered to help, but Violet brushed her off. “I’ve been taking care of this office for sixty years. I think I can manage.”

  “Okay, then.” Sophie swung her bag over her shoulder. “So why will there be a lot of tourists this weekend?”

  “The nice weather brings them out like swarms of bees. Come Saturday noon, the sidewalks will be crowded and you’ll be hard-pressed to get so much as a cup of coffee at Cuppachino.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to get my coffee early,” Sophie said. “Violet, I’m taking off now, so I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Violet continued wiping down the counter. “Early for you, isn’t it? Big date tonight?”

  “Actually, I’m having dinner with Jason Bowers tonight.”

  “In my day, that would have counted as a date.”

  “It still does.” Sophie smiled.

  She flipped off the light in Jesse’s office as she passed by, paused to consider taking a file or two home, then decided against it. Jesse would be back tomorrow afternoon, and she suspected his first stop after his home would be the office. Sophie decided to leave things just as they were.

  The air smelled so fresh and clean when she stepped outside that she paused on her way to the car just to take a deep breath. She could smell the magnolias across the road and the tulips at the library on the opposite corner. Everything felt new and happy, and that suited her mood just fine. She drove off looking forward to dinner with Jason.

  It was her first real date in months, her first dinner date since the last time she and Christopher had gone to Ethan’s two nights before she discovered him in the backseat of his car with Anita the Skank, as Gwen still referred to the woman in texts, emails, and phone conversations. Anita was welcome to him. Eventually, he’d probably cheat on her, too.

  Thinking back over their relationship, it occurred to Sophie that Anita might not have been Chris’s first indiscretion. There’d been times when he’d broken dates at the last minute, begging off because of work. In retrospect, she knew there was a good chance he’d been “frying other fish,” as her mother once said about her father.

  Sophie sighed as she pulled into her driveway. What was the point in getting involved with anyone if you were just going to be disappointed? How do you know when to trust, and when to run? There should be something, some sign, she was thinking while she unlocked the front door, something you could rely on to know the good guys from the bad guys. She said as much to Gwen, who called forty minutes later, just as Sophie emerged from the shower.

  “What brought that on?” Gwen asked.

  “I have a date for dinner and I was thinking about how nice it would be if we knew right off the bat who was going to mess with our minds, as opposed to the guys you could trust.” She tucked the phone between her shoulder and the side of her face. “Think of how much time and aggravation that would save.”

  “You mean, like maybe a little red dot in the middle of the guy’s forehead that sort of pulses when he’s lying?”

  “I hadn’t thought of anything quite that specific, but I like it. That would work.”

  “So who’s the guy?”

>   “Jason Bowers.”

  “Jason, your grandfather’s landscaper? Friend of your brother’s? That Jason?”

  “That Jason.”

  “I doubt he’s a game player.”

  “Why would you say that? You’ve never met him.”

  “I don’t have to meet him. He’s Jesse’s friend. Most guys don’t mess around with their friends’ sisters. Unless, of course, they’re A-holes and just don’t care.”

  “Point well taken,” Sophie said thoughtfully. “He and Jesse are friends, but he’s even closer to my grandfather. He’d never do anything to jeopardize that relationship.”

  “There you go, then,” Gwen said cheerily. “He could be one of the good guys.”

  “He is a good guy.”

  “Just be careful. You haven’t gone out with anyone since he-who-shall-never-be-named-again. Rebound relationships are tough on everyone.” She paused. “On the other hand, rebound sex can be very good. Then again, of course, it can be very terrible.” She paused again. “Most of the time, it’s terrible.”

  “Who’s talking about rebound sex?”

  “No one. But you were thinking about it, right?”

  “Not in those terms,” Sophie said dryly. “At least, I wasn’t. Until now …”

  “You look great.” Jason stood in the doorway. “I’ll be the envy of every guy in Walt’s.”

  Sophie could feel his eyes from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She’d chosen her favorite dress, a long, lean gray knit, sleeveless with a deep cowl collar. She’d belted it with a wide swath of multicolored leather that hung loosely on her hips, stacked a row of bangles on her left wrist, and slipped into her favorite red heels. She wore round moonstone earrings set in silver and a wide silver band on the middle finger of her right hand. Aside from the wedding, it had been months since she’d been this dressed up—this decked out—and it put her in a happy frame of mind.

  “Thanks. So do you.” He did look good, she mused as she grabbed a cardigan to throw over her shoulders and a black clutch. Khakis and a lightweight brown sweater suited him.