“Pretty much.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
He fell silent, and she thought he’d decided against sharing that part of himself, which was okay as far as she was concerned. When—if—he was ready, he’d talk about it.
“You know my parents died in a car accident,” he said long after she’d assumed he’d fallen asleep.
“I remember you said that, yes.”
“Did I mention that the accident was my fault?”
“You were driving?”
“No, my dad was.”
“Then how was it your fault?”
“I sneaked out one night after my parents were asleep, took my dad’s car, and picked up a few of my buddies and went joyriding. I’d just dropped off the last of the guys and was headed home, thinking how clever I was to have gotten away with it, when I got pulled over because one of the headlights was out. When the cop realized that I was under age and had no license, he took me into the station and called my parents to come pick me up. By this time it was almost five in the morning. They got Eric out of bed to drive them to get me.”
Sophie had a bad feeling that she knew where this was going, but she sat back and let him tell it in his own time.
“My mom came into the station for me, never said a word, just pointed to the door. My dad had gotten the car back and was waiting outside. Neither of them spoke on the drive home. It was obvious that they were really angry, super disappointed in me. I knew I was in for it when we got home. Two blocks from our house, a drunk driver wiped out on a deep curve and crossed into the opposing lane of traffic.”
“Your lane.”
“Yeah. Hit us head-on. My dad and my mom both died instantly. I walked away with only a few broken bones.”
“So you’re saying if you hadn’t taken the car that night that your parents would still be alive.”
“That’s what it came down to, yeah.”
“Jason, the person responsible for that accident was the guy who was driving drunk.”
“But if I hadn’t …”
“That wasn’t the cause of the accident.” She took his face in both her hands. “Believe me, as a prosecutor, I’ve seen more than my share of fatal accidents caused by drunk drivers. Drunk drivers cause accidents.”
He lay back against the pillow, and it was a long time before she heard his breathing relax and knew he’d finally fallen asleep.
Much to Sophie’s surprise, the next morning, Jason had a flatbed truck deliver a dozen pine trees, which he lined up along his side of the fence that separated his property from hers. Until he’d actually gotten inside the restaurant, he told her later, he hadn’t realized how noisy his trucks sounded inside those stone walls. On Wednesday, a crew of guys with chain saws began clearing the far side of his lot, cutting down the saplings and sending them through a wood chipper.
“The chips are pretty green, but they’ll age,” Jason told her. “Eventually, I’ll be able to sell them. In the meantime, they’re making way for a delivery of topsoil.”
“And mulch.” She grimaced.
“Usually people are looking for mulch when they’re putting in their gardens and their planting beds early in the season. That time is pretty much past now.”
“So, in other words, I don’t have to worry about the stench driving my customers away until next year?”
“Stench is such a harsh word.”
“Not if you’d smelled it from inside my place.”
“Well, that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about next week when you open.”
“Yeah, I just have to worry about a lot of empty tables.”
“I think that idea you had to invite people in the night before so they can sample the menu is terrific.”
“Let’s hope they’ll like what they see.”
“I like what I see.”
“I hope so.” She laughed and went into the kitchen, returning with a plate piled with slices of pound cake.
“Here. Take these over and pass them around to your guys—see what they think.”
“Those guys will eat anything. I don’t think they’re the critics you should be courting.”
“Go. Get out of my hair. I have a dozen more recipes to test today.”
“Great.” Jason took the plate and headed for the door. “I’ll be back for lunch …”
Every day for the following week, Sophie crossed something else off her list of must-dos. When she finally got around to the outside of the building, she asked Jason if he had a pair of snips she could borrow, and maybe a shovel.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“I want to get rid of the weeds that are growing around the building—you know, make it look tidier. And I want to cut out that viney stuff around the front door so I can plant some flowers out there.”
“What kind of flowers?”
“Lilies, roses, and violets.”
“Lilies we can do, and roses we can do. Violets are out of season right now.”
“Is there something I can plant that’s sort of violet-colored?”
“Let me take care of the outside. You go back to whatever you were doing.”
“I was thinking about working out here.”
“I’ve got it covered.”
True to his word, by the end of the week the grounds had been cleared of all the trash, trees, weeds, and vines, and at the door, newly planted red Knock Out roses, yellow daylilies, and purple salvia grew. Ellie had talked Sophie into letting her paint not only the sign that would hang over the door, but the front window as well. The small bouquet of the three flowers, loosely tied together with a trailing blue ribbon, was exactly what Sophie had in mind, and, as she told Ellie, much better than anything she might have drawn. The bouquet would be Blossoms’ logo and would appear on the menus and the sign out front, as well as all the ads she’d run in the local paper.
On Saturday, Jason and Sophie arrived early at Ellie’s to complete their contribution to the restoration of the carriage house, and on Sunday, she invited Jesse, Brooke, Curtis, and Violet to Blossoms to test a meal.
“I thought you were going to invite a lot of people the night before you open,” Jason said.
“I am. This is the test before the test.”
Curtis had been a bit cranky about the whole thing until he arrived and saw the name on the window.
“Blossoms,” he read softly, but he made no comment.
Once inside, however, he stood transfixed in front of the wall of photographs.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, where’d you get that picture of me in that rowboat?” he asked. At first, Sophie thought he was annoyed, until he turned and she could see the laughter in his eyes. “I must have been all of about eleven. Took on the big boys in the annual boat race.”
“You win?” Jason asked.
“Came in dead last.”
“And look, Pop, here’s Gramma Rose …,” Sophie began.
“… in her wedding dress.” His eyes misted over. “Never saw a more beautiful sight in all my life.”
“She was very beautiful.” Sophie slipped her hand through his arm. “See, here she is as a girl. With Lilly and Violet.”
“Let me see that.” Violet left her purse on a table and adjusted her glasses. “Oh, my word. Look at that. We were so young. Hard to believe we were ever that young.”
“Here’s a picture of Lilly and Lynley Sebastian,” Curtis pointed out. He turned to Jason and said, “Did you know one of the first supermodels grew up right here in St. Dennis?”
“No, I didn’t.” Jason stepped closer to take a look. “I remember her. All the guys had this poster of her on their bedroom walls.”
“Did you?” Sophie asked.
“Absolutely.”
“You know that’s Ellie’s mother, right?” Jesse walked over to inspect the wall.
“What? No.” Jason’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”
“That’s where Ellie gets her good looks,” Curtis told them. “
Not that scoundrel of a father of hers. Lost a bundle to that son of a bitch.”
“Okay, Pop, water over the dam.” Sophie steered him to a table, pleased that her photo wall was proving to be such a success.
She and Jason had pushed several tables together to make one long enough to accommodate everyone.
“Sit, please,” Sophie announced. “I want to start serving.”
“You’re cooking and serving?” Brooke frowned. “How’s that going to work?”
“I won’t have a waitress until Thursday, so Jason offered to fill in today.” Sophie went through the swinging door into the kitchen.
“Really?” Curtis turned to Violet and smiled. “Did you hear that, Vi? Jason is helping Sophie in the restaurant today.”
“Nice of him.” She smiled back.
“Indeed.” He mouthed the words thank you.
“You’re welcome,” she whispered.
Sophie came out of the kitchen with several small bowls on a tray.
“Okay, these are roasted chickpeas. I want to serve these to every table while people are looking at their menus.” She proceeded to place a bowl on the table in front of every other person.
“Chickpeas for breakfast?” Jesse made a face.
“On the lunch tables.” She smacked his arm lightly as she walked by.
“These are yummy,” Brooke told her. “It’s a great idea. Inexpensive yet innovative. I like it.”
“Thanks.” Sophie hustled into the kitchen for the next tray, which she gave to Jason to carry.
“Here’s a sampling of the lunch selections. If something doesn’t work, please say so now, or it goes on the menu that I take to the printer this week.”
Jason stood on her left as she reeled off the contents of the tray, from the BLTs to the chicken-avocado-bacon on a croissant. Everything was met with approval, so she went on to the desserts.
Again, Jason appeared with a tray.
“I was lucky to have been able to cull some recipes from several St. Dennis residents. Violet, here’s your mother’s lemon meringue pie. I hope it serves her memory well.” She pointed to another plate. “Here’s Gramma Rose’s pound cake, Pop. You’ll have to let me know if it lives up to hers. And Lilly Cavanaugh’s cherry tarts.” Jason passed out samples of each. “Some days I’ll have brownies, some days crème brûlée—Grace Sinclair gave me her recipe—and India Devlin emailed me her great-aunt Nola’s recipe for coconut cake, which she swears is the best on the planet. I haven’t tested that one yet, but it looks amazing.”
“My grandmother used to make an apple pie that kicked butt,” Brooke told her. “Maybe my mom would cough it up if you ask nicely.”
“Thanks. I’ll give her a call.”
When the meal was over, Sophie asked for suggestions, criticisms, and critiques.
“I can’t think of one thing,” Brooke told her. “Everything was awesome. If this is what you’re going to offer, Blossoms is going to be around for a long, long time.”
“God, I hope so.” Sophie sank into a nearby chair. “I’ve dreamed about a place just like this since I was seventeen. I can’t believe it’s really happening.”
“You should be very proud of yourself, Sophie.” She was at a loss to hear those words come from her grandfather’s lips. “You’ve worked very hard, and you’re earning all the success I know you’re going to have.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jesse conceded. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t think you’re going to fall on your face.” He raised his water glass. “Here’s to dreams coming true, little sister.”
“Thanks, Jess.” She fought back a lump in her throat.
“Now, you sit, and we’ll do the cleanup.” Brooke stood and began gathering up the plates. “Come on, Jess.”
“What?” Jesse turned to her in mock horror.
“You heard me. Up.” Brooke took him by the arm and he pretended to resist, but he cleared the table.
Sophie tried, but she couldn’t sit still. She ended up in the kitchen putting things away and reorganizing a cupboard in the process. By the time everyone had left, she was buoyed by their praise but dead on her feet. She slumped onto a counter stool, her face in her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Jason came up behind her and massaged her shoulders.
“I can’t believe it’s really going to happen,” she whispered. “What if …”
“Uh, no. No what-ifs. You’re going to knock ’em dead at your preview party and on opening day, this place is going to be packed. You’ll see.”
She reached back to touch one of his hands. “Thank you.”
“For …?”
“For helping me today. For encouraging me. For letting go of this place so that I could do this.”
“That whole week when we weren’t speaking, I was miserable.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I realized that I could give up part of my dream if it meant yours would come true.”
“Aww, Jason …” She turned around in the chair.
“I have a business that’s doing very well, and I have eighty-five percent of what I wanted. So I don’t have a shop. I’ll think of something when the time comes. I wasn’t ready for it this year, anyway.”
“Well, if we’re confessing, I have to admit that I was pretty miserable, too. All I could think about was how happy I am when I’m with you. I hadn’t been happy like that in … maybe forever.”
“Not even with BMW guy?”
“Not for a moment.”
“Come with me.” He lifted her off the chair.
“Where are we going?”
“Down to the river.”
She locked the front door, and they went out the back. Three steps out the door, he stopped and snapped his fingers. “Wait here. I forgot something.”
He was back in a minute with a brown paper bag in one hand and two juice glasses in the other. “Sorry. I don’t have champagne glasses.”
“You bought champagne?”
He nodded and took her hand. “I figured this would be a night to celebrate.”
They walked to the end of the old dock and sat, just as Sophie had the other day. This time was better, she thought. This time, she was with Jason.
“Nice evening,” he said.
“Beautiful,” she agreed, and it was. The sun had set over the water and touched the river with color. The first of the lightning bugs had come out and the air was tinged with fragrance.
Jason popped the cork and poured bubbly into each glass, then raised his.
“Here’s to new beginnings, to dreams.”
“To dreams coming true,” she added.
They clinked their glasses.
“I will never forget this night, Jason. I will always remember how special it was, having you with me when I could show off my dream to my family, to prove it could work.”
“My mom always said that life is made up of memories. That your memories are the story of your past.” He kissed the side of her face. “Someday this will be part of our past, too. A memory we made together.”
“I like the sound of that.” She took a sip of champagne and stood, pulling him up by his hand. “Since this is a night for making memories, let’s go back to my place and make a few more …”
Diary ~
So many pleasant surprises this summer—so many wonderful things to look forward to. The latest here in St. Dennis is the opening of a new restaurant out on River Road. I’m talking about the total remake of the old Walsh place. Sophie Enright purchased the building and has renovated it completely, and what a makeover she’s done! You’d never recognize it as the same place. And my goodness, the food she’s serving—breakfast and lunch only, don’t you know—delicious. Deliciously different, Brooke calls it. I personally love the way she’s allowed our town to take center stage. Aside from the fact that almost everything she serves is locally sourced—let’s hear it for keeping our farmers in the black!—she’s decorated the dining room to reflect the history of St. Dennis. How clever is that? She
has photos on the walls of people who lived here, past and present—especially her grandmother, Rose Enright, and Rose’s friends, Lilly Cavanaugh and Violet Finneran. Their photos are everywhere, delightful shots from years past. It’s most charming. I could spend hours in there, just looking at the pictures and reminiscing. There’s even a picture of my Dan and me in front of the inn, the year we were married. My, how the inn has changed since then! And here’s something fun that she’s done: she’s borrowed recipes from some of us old-timers and has specials on the menu made from those old recipes. I wish I’d thought of that for the inn, I don’t mind saying. I offered her my crème brûlée recipe, and she’s promised to let me know when she’s going to make it.
She’s a clever girl, that Sophie. She invited a group of people from town to a pre–grand opening taste test of her menu, and it had everyone buzzing for the past week. Everything she served was excellent, I must say, and I know I for one will be stopping in often for her lunch specials. Dallas MacGregor was especially pleased to have such a fine place right down the road from her new studio, which opens in three weeks. She tells me she’s almost fully staffed, and she’s preparing to start work on Pretty Maids, her first film. Sophie promised to make special box lunches for Dallas’s people. She is doing a very early breakfast for the watermen, but she tells me they apparently haven’t gotten the memo, because she isn’t doing the early morning business she expected. I told her to be patient—once word spreads, she’ll have people standing at the counter waiting for one of her delicious breakfast sandwiches, which, she said, were a late addition to the menu.
I love when our young people show such respect for our past, and love that she’s honored her grandmother in such a lovely way. Did I mention that she’s named her place Blossoms, after Rose, Lilly, and Violet?
As previously reported—you can’t take the news-woman out of the girl, you know—Sophie and Jason are becoming quite the item. Lucy says they’re fixing up the apartment over Blossoms, and that she wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to share it once it’s finished. I can’t help but wonder if somehow Vi’s sudden request for some very particular herbs didn’t have something to do with that.
And now, for the best news ever. EVER. Ford is coming home! Yes, my baby is coming home! I can hardly believe it myself. No, I don’t know the exact date, or the reason, only that he’s told his sister that he thought it was time (if he’d asked me, I’d have told him it was long past time). Frankly, I don’t care why. I just want him home and safe. It’s the answer to my every prayer for the past five or six years, and finally, I will be able to lay my head on my pillow at night and sleep peacefully through the night, knowing exactly where all my children are, and that they’re safe from harm. I bless that boy of mine for his selfless devotion to others, for his concern for his fellow man, but as his mother, most of all, I bless him for coming home.
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 Page 213
