In the truck, sitting side by side, Zoey felt suddenly self-conscious. She had spent time with James at the diner and at Sophie’s house, but never alone like this. It’s just a date, Zoey. You’ve been on a zillion dates before. And he’s just a guy. So get over it and act like a human .
“We have plenty of time before the movie,” Zoey admitted as James pulled away from the house. “I just said that so my mother wouldn’t ask you any more questions. I’m sorry if it felt like she was interrogating you.”
“I didn’t mind. Your mom seems very nice. I can see her being a nurse,” he added.
“She really loves what she does. It’s perfect for her. She didn’t go to college after high school. She worked in the diner when C.J. and Jamie were young and went back to school about ten years ago. It took her a long time to get her nursing degree, but she finally did.”
“Good for her. I guess if you have a real commitment and don’t give up, you can do some amazing things in life.”
“That’s what she always tells me. Though I hope I don’t have to wait that long to get going in my career.”
“I don’t think you will,” James said. “You seem very clear on what you want and how to get there.”
Zoey was surprised at his observation. How could he know that about her already? They hardly knew each other. “How about you? You seem to be wandering a bit. But maybe you’re not lost . . . as the saying goes.”
He turned and met her gaze. She smiled at him, feeling her cheeks get a bit warm, and was glad for the darkness in the truck. “I read that in a book somewhere,” she added. “No, come to think of it, not a book. A note someone left for me.”
He laughed, his eyes back on the road. “One of my favorites. I even have a T-shirt with that saying. I guess I am wandering right now. But I don’t feel lost. I know what I want to do with my life—write books. And that’s a lot.”
“Yes, it is. It’s pretty major,” Zoey agreed. She wasn’t sure how they had gotten into such a serious conversation so quickly. She usually wasn’t like this at all on a first date. It felt more like . . . the tenth? James was so easy to talk to. She felt as if she had known him a long time. And that was rare, too.
Still, she felt like it was time for some lighter talk. She didn’t want to seem so super serious and freak him out. “I’m glad we’re going to a Hitchcock movie tonight. I took a great film study course on him last semester. We had to see all the movies, even the early ones.”
“I missed a few of those,” he admitted. “Rear Window is my favorite. I haven’t seen it in a long time.”
“That figures. It’s about a guy who’s always watching people. I guess you identify with Jimmy Stewart?”
James laughed. “Maybe a little. He’s stuck in a wheelchair. I don’t know what my excuse is.”
“It’s a great movie, definitely near the top of my list. But my favorite is Vertigo. Amazing psychology. The poor detective is totally manipulated. He believes exactly what he’s led to believe.”
“Poor Jimmy Stewart. Again,” James pointed out. “Since you’re a psych major, I had a feeling you would like that one best.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” Zoey shrugged. Maybe he did know her better than she thought.
The theater was crowded, and coming early turned out to be a good thing. She and James chatted more after they found their seats, but once the film started, he was totally focused on the screen. And so was she. She liked that about him. It bugged her when people talked during a movie or poked her at some funny or scary part. She liked to be totally immersed in the film, and, obviously, so did he.
Though, at one point, he slipped his arm around her shoulders. It was a scary moment, when the dog is digging in the garden, and Zoey didn’t mind at all.
After the film, they walked down the street to an Indian restaurant Zoey liked. She hoped James liked it, too, and also hoped it helped him see that the area was not as unsophisticated as he may have thought. The cafés in Newburyport offered all sorts of foods, from many cultures—though back in Cape Light one was hard-pressed to find anything more exotic than chowder, clam rolls, or burgers.
“Hmm. This is good.” James tasted a bit of the appetizer, a pastry stuffed with a spicy meat mixture. “You know, I was thinking today, I never met anyone with the name Zoey before. I mean, I’ve heard the name and read it in books. But I don’t think I ever had a friend named Zoey.”
A friend? Was that all he thought of her? Zoey brushed aside the worry. Maybe he just didn’t know what to call their relationship at this point. At least he thinks of you as a friend, she told herself.
She also wasn’t sure if she should tell him the truth about her name. Where it had really come from.
“It is unusual. That’s why I picked it,” she finally replied.
“So it’s not your real name?”
“It is my real name now,” she explained. “But yes, I picked it for myself, back in middle school. My mother named me Elizabeth. I never liked it. I never liked being called Liz or Liza, and definitely not Beth or Betsy.”
James smiled and sipped some water. “I can’t see you as any of those names, either. But maybe that’s because I know you as Zoey.”
“Maybe. I just wanted a name that was unusual. And . . . I guess I wanted to put some distance between who I was and my past. I can see that now that I’m older.”
He had stopped eating and put his fork down. “Did something happen to you when you were younger?”
Zoey nodded, still not sure how much she wanted to tell him. But now that she had started, it seemed impossible to tell only part of the story. She took a breath and sat back in her seat. “Lucy and Charlie are not my real father and mother. I mean, they feel real to me. But they adopted me about five years ago. That’s why I said my real name is Zoey now. It’s the name on my adoption certificate. Zoey Bates.”
James stared at her wide-eyed. “Wow. I had no idea. I mean, your family seems so close.”
So normal, she knew he meant. “We are close. Lucy and Charlie showed me what it’s like to be part of a real family, to have parents who care about you. I never knew my real father, and my mother was in and out of our lives. I have a younger brother, Kevin. He used to live around here, but he was adopted by a wonderful family, too, a few years ago. Last year, they moved to Minnesota.”
“I see. So you really have three brothers?”
Zoey nodded. “Kevin and I keep in touch over the phone and by Skype. But I’d love to visit him sometime. Anyway, that’s pretty much my story. I didn’t mean to go on and on,” she added, hoping she hadn’t bored him. Or worse yet, sounded like a character out of a soap opera.
“You weren’t going on and on. I’m really interested to know more, to know all about you,” he said. “How did you get connected with Lucy and Charlie? Were they trying to adopt another child?”
Zoey laughed. “No, not at all. I was running away from a foster home and ended up in the diner. My birth mother had died. I didn’t have any money or anywhere to go. And I was sick, real sick. I could hardly stand up. Lucy made me come home with her, and she took care of me. I started living there, and after a few bumps in the road, let’s say, Lucy and Charlie wanted to adopt me. And I wanted to stay with them and Jamie and C.J.”
“Wow, you’ve had it rough, Zoey.” James reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s hard for me to believe. You seem so strong and together. Not at all like someone who had such a tough time growing up.”
“I was pretty messed up for a while. Angry and all that. But Lucy and Charlie really helped me. I couldn’t love them more if they were my real parents. I owe them a lot,” she said quietly. “Most of all, they showed me that I could change. I didn’t have to be Elizabeth Dugan, in that dark, angry place. I could be Zoey Bates. I could be happy.”
“I’m glad you decided to be Zoey Bates. I like her a lot.
And I admire her. Greatly.” James smiled, and his compliment made her blush again. “Is that why you want to be an art therapist? To help kids who are going through similar things?”
Zoey nodded. “Exactly. I think I’d be good at it, too. At the center where I volunteer, I think I’ve helped a few kids make some progress. There’s an internship there, over the winter break. I have an interview for it on Monday. But I’m probably not going.”
She hadn’t meant to tell him that. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone. But all of her secrets seemed to pour out so easily when James looked at her in his soft, sweet way.
“You’re not? But why? You just said how much you love the work. It would be great experience for you.”
“I think so, too. It’s sort of a long story. I can’t work at the center over winter break because I have to work in the diner. Charlie needs a manager so he can run the town. He can’t do two jobs at once anymore.”
James looked upset by her explanation. “I guess it’s hard to run a business and be mayor, too. But that doesn’t seem very fair to you.”
“I know. But my family really needs my help right now. That’s the bottom line here,” she said, sorry now that she had brought up the topic. She didn’t want to have the same argument with James that she’d had with her parents—with James playing her part.
James sat back, taking a hint from her tone perhaps. “I know it’s not my business, but I really think you should go to the interview. Don’t cancel it.”
“But what’s the point? Even if they like me, I can’t take the job.”
“It will be a good experience for you, if nothing else. And maybe, if you make a good impression, they’ll remember you if they need someone later. And you never know, something might happen out of the blue, and you might be able to work there this winter, after all.”
Zoey shrugged, still not convinced.
He took her hand again and searched out her gaze with his own. “Just think about it, okay? I’m working at the diner Monday. I’ll help you slip out if that’s the problem.”
That was part of the problem, but now he was taking that excuse away from her, too.
“All right. I’ll think about it,” she finally agreed.
“Good. That makes me very happy.” His tone was sincere. “You’re an awesome person, Zoey. I hate to see you hide your light under a bushel.”
Zoey grinned. “That sounds like something my dad would say. He’s got a lot of old-fashioned expressions.”
James laughed. “I don’t know where that came from. I’ve probably been hanging around my grandmother too long.”
They enjoyed the rest of their dinner in a lighter mood and decided to walk around the harbor afterward. The streets and shop windows were decorated for Christmas, and the cobblestone lanes and squares seemed magical. So did the feeling of his arm around her shoulders as she asked him more about his own past. He knew so much about her now, it only seemed fair.
James told her how his family had lived in Boston when he was very young and later moved to Connecticut. His parents divorced when he was eleven years old, and his mother now lived in New York. “It was hard for a while,” he admitted. “But there was no big drama. My parents made it as easy as possible for me and Miranda.”
They had reached the park at the harbor and strolled down the walkway. The water was dark blue, the sky above an even darker shade, dotted by tiny white stars. It looked so beautiful tonight. Zoey tried to memorize the sight so she could use it in her art someday.
“Did you always want to be a writer?” she asked James suddenly.
“I think so. Though I guess I went through the usual stages boys do, wanting to be a pro athlete.”
“I’d like to read more of your writing. The piece I read was so good, really interesting and clever.” So far, she had only read one of his blog posts, but his talent was clear to her. “Have you had time to write since you came here? You always seem so busy at Sophie’s house, and you’re working at the diner now, too.”
“I’ve been able to write a lot, usually early in the morning. My grandmother’s been telling me family history—about her parents and grandparents. It’s given me ideas for some stories that I’m working on now.”
Zoey studied the expression in his eyes. “It must be coming out great. You look very . . . inspired.” He did look inspired, his eyes bright and a wide smile lighting his face.
“I am inspired. But not by family history right now. I just think I want to kiss you.”
Before Zoey could reply, he moved close and surprised her with a kiss. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, holding tight to his broad shoulders. She wasn’t sure how long they stood together like that. She felt the world spinning around her. As if the stars in the blue-black sky had drifted down and were spinning inside her head. An absolutely wonderful feeling.
They suddenly heard voices. A big group of teenagers, coming their way. James stepped back, though he kept his arms around her in a loose embrace. “Guess we should head back to Bella now.”
Zoey nodded. “Yeah, I guess we should.”
“I had a wonderful time tonight. I hope you know that, Zoey. I feel as if . . . well, as if I’ve known you forever. It’s so strange. But in a good way,” he quickly added.
“I know what you mean. I feel the same about you,” she admitted. “And now you know my first name was Elizabeth. So you know all my secrets.”
James laughed and dropped a kiss on her head. “I’m honored. But I suspect there are a few more hidden up there.”
With their arms slung around each other, they walked back to the truck without talking at all. Zoey could rarely recall feeling happier.
* * *
Emily heard Jane and her friends hop down the stairs and take over the kitchen and family room again. Debate practice and pizza feast over, the girls were now in the baking-cupcakes phase of the sleepover. This would be followed by watching a movie and eating the cupcakes. Emily looked in on them as they poured batter into the tins. She trusted Jane in the kitchen more than she trusted herself and knew they didn’t need, or want, her supervision. But she still peeked in from time to time, just to make sure the party was going well.
But with all the giggling and chatting—and the loud movie, which seemed to be about gymnastics or cheerleading—Emily ended up putting in earplugs. The noise was so distracting.
She had to wade through pages of tedious, boring legal language in the village constitution and amendments, dating back to the 1800s. But finally, she found the bylaw she had recalled. She read it over to be sure they could use it to block the vote, then printed out copies of the page.
Emily wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there when she became aware of Dan standing in the doorway. She looked over at him, then pulled out the earplugs so she could hear what he was saying.
“I’m sorry. I had these things in my ears. The girls were getting a little noisy.”
“The girls went upstairs over an hour ago. I think they’re asleep.”
“Really? I thought they were still watching TV.” It felt as if Janie had brought her a cupcake just a few minutes ago. The crumpled wrapper was still on her desk, the candy-trimmed treat less than half-eaten. Emily felt a little guilty. She should have checked on them and made sure they had everything they needed before they went to bed. “Are they okay? Why didn’t you call me? I would have helped settle them down.”
“They’re fine. Considering the amount of junk food they ate, I was expecting at least one stomachache.”
Emily laughed. “Well, the night isn’t over yet.”
“We’re getting there. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Emily glanced at the time on her computer. At first she thought it said eleven fifteen, then realized a digit was missing. It was actually a few minutes past one. “Oh my gosh . . . how did it get so late?” She stared a
t him, honestly surprised.
“The way it usually does, Emily. Once you get hooked by some cause or issue, you zip up to your own planet. You definitely blasted off tonight, and please don’t deny it.”
“Yes . . . I know. I’m sorry. But I found the bylaw, Dan. Then I got caught up, checking to see if we could really use it and whether it’s airtight.”
His expression softened. “At least you found it. What is it all about exactly? You never really told me.”
“It’s very simple, actually. There’s a bylaw in the village charter that states if a large enough group of citizens opposes a change to a village law, they can appeal to the county, and the county can then freeze a vote on the change for two years.”
“And then what?”
“Well, that two-year freeze creates time for an independent review of the new zoning ideas. So now the open spacers need to give the county a solid reason for why the situation should be studied by an outside group. Impact on the wildlife and environment should be reason enough. But I want to find out if anyone has ever used this tactic before and what the possible pitfalls are.”
“That’s smart. But isn’t there anyone else that can take it from here? There must be a lawyer or someone with good research skills in that group.”
“I did think of passing this along. I’m just afraid some other volunteer won’t be able to get all the information together as quickly as I can. There’s hardly any time at all. I can also call some county officials and sound them out—people who know how these situations work and will talk to me off the record.”
When he didn’t reply, she said, “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m not leading the charge, but I can provide the ammunition. And I want to see it through. I think this strategy can block the effort to overbuild and ruin the town. At least for two years. That should be long enough for people to see reason.”
“Maybe,” Dan agreed. “Charlie’s term as mayor will be over by then.”
“Unless he gets reelected or the mayor coming in has the same dumb idea.” Emily paused and met her husband’s questioning gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. But I have no intention of running again—not in two years, not in twenty. No matter what my mother says.”
Thomas Kinkade's Cape Light Page 16
