Driftwood Point

by Mariah Stewart

  “Alec, I have you down for nine o’clock. You’re a little late,” she told them.

  “Sorry, Rexanne. We were at the gallery opening.”

  “Lucky for you, so was everyone else.” The woman raised a finger to beckon a waiter. “We’re really busy right now, so I’m just going to have Craig show you to your table.”

  “I requested a table near the windows looking out onto the bay,” Alec told the young man who led them through the restaurant toward the back wall. “I hope one’s still available.”

  “How’s this?” The waiter stopped at a cozy table for two with a great view.

  “Perfect. Just the table I had in mind.”

  The waiter held out Lis’s chair while Alec seated himself, then handed them both menus. “We also have a shrimp special and tuna that came in this morning.”

  “Yum.” Lis had relaxed as soon as she was seated. There was something about the ambience of this restaurant that made her feel like she was home.

  They talked about the menu, and after they’d both ordered the tuna, Alec ordered wine for Lis and a beer for himself.

  “I don’t know if you like beer,” he told her, “but St. Dennis has a local brewery now, and the beer is not like anything I ever had anywhere else.”

  “I do like it occasionally.”

  “MadMac Brews. Clay Madison—who is married to my cousin Lucy—and Wade MacGregor started it about two or three years ago. Clay grows the hops organically at his farm, and they set up their brewery right there in an old barn on his property. It’s quite the operation.”

  The waiter appeared with their drinks.

  “MacGregor.” Lis thought for a moment. “Steffie who owns the ice cream place, her last name is MacGregor.”

  “Wade is her husband. He’s also Dallas MacGregor’s brother.”

  Her mouth hung open for just a moment. “Dallas MacGregor, the movie star?”

  Alec nodded. “She lives here, too. Married her old sweetheart, who just happens to be Steffie’s brother.”

  “She lives in St. Dennis?”

  “Girl, where have you been?” he teased. “She not only lives here, she bought some old warehouses on River Road and turned them into a studio. She has her own production company and they’re right here. They’re just starting work on their third film.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Don’t you read People magazine?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Watch Entertainment Tonight?”

  Another no.

  “How do you keep up with the beautiful people? Don’t you care how real celebrities live?”

  “Apparently not.” Lis laughed.

  “Me, either. The only reason I know about Dallas is because she lives here and our paths cross now and then.”

  “She’s one of the few Hollywood types I’d recognize, but only because her looks are so distinctive. I watched one of those award shows on TV about six months ago, and I swear, I didn’t know who anyone was.”

  “That’s because you don’t read culturally informative publications.”

  “More likely because I grew up in a house where, culturally speaking, it was still the 1800s.”

  “Ancient history,” he told her. “Time to move on.”

  “For the most part, I have, but then something happens, some little thing like seeing Jody McGovern at the gallery. We were always in the same English class, and I thought she was so smart and so funny, and I bet she was fun to be with. She was the one person I really wanted to be friends with back then. Tonight I had about three minutes to talk to her before I had to move the line, and I wish it had been more.”

  “You can see Jody anytime you want. She’s still around. She’s the assistant librarian.”

  “Maybe I’ll stop in and say hi one day. But it doesn’t make up for all the times I wished . . .” It was hard to put into words what she wished. “I missed a lot back then. When I got to college, it was hard for me to make friends because I never really had to. The kids I’d hung around with in school, I’d always known them. So I didn’t have to get to know them, if you follow me. I didn’t know how to make friends. I’ve always been awkward with new people.”

  “If you felt awkward tonight, you hid it really well.”

  “Really?”

  Alec nodded. “You looked relaxed and charming and gracious.”

  “Charming and gracious,” she mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever been described in those terms before.”

  “Maybe not to your face. You just don’t see yourself the way others do.”

  “That’s nice of you. I appreciate it. I think I will stop at the library one day next week and see if Jody is there. Maybe it’s not too late to be friends.”

  “It’s never too late, Lis.” He looked directly into her eyes. “It will never be too late.”

  Something told her he wasn’t talking just about friendship.

  The waiter brought their dinners and Lis tucked away the conversation for later.

  “Thanks for asking for a table near the bay. I never get tired of looking at the Chesapeake. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until last week. I love watching the lights on the boats at night when everything else is so dark. It’s like watching fairies dancing on the water.”

  The fish was perfectly cooked and she said so, adding, “Fish never tastes as good to me as it does here. Crabs—hands down, the best come out of the bay. Rockfish—no comparison. Maybe that’s why I eat so much of it when I’m here.”

  “My uncle Cliff used to take me crabbing. He had an old green rowboat that we’d take out, mostly in the river. I loved those times with him. He was such a good man.” Alec finished his meal and placed the knife and fork on his plate. “He took me in when my folks died, and treated me like a son from that day on. Everything he did, he did for me. He taught me to fish and crab and where to find oysters when it seemed like they’d all been taken by the professionals. He never missed a parent-teacher meeting or a lacrosse game or a basketball game. There was always a cake on my birthday and a party with my cousins at the inn. Christmases were the best. He always made the holidays worth the wait.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been sixteen years, and I miss him every day.”

  “He sounds like a great guy.” Lis thought back to the conversation she and Ruby had had just a few days ago. “We don’t stop loving people just because they’re gone.”

  “I had great parents. We were a really happy family. I’ll never understand why things had to be the way they were.”

  “If Ruby were here, she’d say something like, ‘Can’t change what was.’ She tells me things like that all the time.”

  Alec smiled. “I’ve heard that one, too. That, and, ‘It’s all in his hands, and he keeps his plans to himself, no reason to let me know ahead ’a time.’ ”

  “ ‘Times be changing. Keep up.’ ” She grinned.

  “How ’bout, ‘You go on about your business, now, and let me go on about mine.’ ”

  “And to whatever it was that she wants you to do, it’s, ‘Do you good.’ ”

  “She’s the best. I don’t mind saying that one of my best friends is a one-hundred-year-old woman.”

  “Funny. Owen said something sort of like that last night. That he didn’t mind living with his great-grandmother because she’s . . . well, because she’s Ruby.”

  “Loved and respected by all who know her.” Alec realized that Lis, too, had finished eating. “Dessert?”

  “Not another bite for me. But thanks.”

  Alec signaled to the waiter for the check. Ten minutes later, they were walking along the boards, hand in hand, looking out at the bay.

  “It’s such a pretty night,” Lis said.

  “Too pretty a night, and too early to take you home. Unless you’re worn out from being ‘on
’ tonight.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  One Scoop or Two was already dark, and the parking lot was mostly empty.

  “I hadn’t realized that St. Dennis had become such a tourist destination,” she told him as they walked to the car.

  “It’s been growing steadily over the past ten years or so. There are some Friday nights you can’t park in town and it takes half an hour to go from Sinclair’s Inn out to the highway. It’s been a boon to the shopkeepers, though.” He opened the passenger-side door and held it while she got in. “And I’ve lost track of the number of places that are now B and Bs. There’s at least one on every street.” He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat.

  “I guess if I were looking for a vacation place, I’d consider St. Dennis.”

  Alec turned the key in the ignition. “My cousin Dan has had a lot to do with the way the town has grown in popularity. I don’t think most people are aware of the contribution he’s made by all the changes he’s done to the inn. There’s a kids’ park there now, tennis courts, a restaurant with a phenomenal chef. The entire building has been updated and the grounds are beautiful. There are weddings there almost every weekend, thanks to Lucy, who was an event planner in California before she came home a few years ago.”

  “Lucy was so pretty, with all that long strawberry-blond hair straight down her back. She’s still pretty.” Lis fingered her own dark curls. “I always envied her hair. Mine never went straight like that.”

  Alec drove over the drawbridge, and Lis assumed he was taking her home. Instead, he pulled the car onto the grass at the point and parked in front of the cottage.

  “Have you figured out yet what’s what here?” she asked, wondering if he had bad news and had brought her here to break it.

  “I’m still waiting to hear from the termite inspector. He was supposed to be here this morning, but something came up and he had to put it off. He thought maybe he’d get to it by Monday or Tuesday.”

  “For a second, I was afraid you brought me here to give me bad news.”

  “Well, it might not be good in the end. I already told you there was water damage, but I don’t know how extensive. Let’s wait and see what the termite report tells us. The place may need some major rehab, but we don’t have enough information right now. You’ll have a decision to make soon enough. In the meantime . . . I see moonlight.”

  “Then let’s not waste it.” Lis kicked off her shoes. “Let’s walk out onto the pier.”

  “Remember there are a lot of loose and missing boards. We won’t be able to see them in the dark, and—”

  Lis was already out of the car and heading toward the water. She heard Alec’s car door slam and his footfalls behind her.

  “So let’s make a plan ahead of time in case one of us falls through the pier,” he said as he caught up with her.

  “Whoever doesn’t fall through pulls out the one who did.”

  “Good plan.” He took hold of her left hand. “Heck of a plan.”

  Lis laughed. “We’ll just go slowly and be careful where we put our feet.”

  “Very careful.” He glanced at her bare feet. “You know you’re inviting a mass of splinters.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  They reached the pier, and Lis stepped onto it, with Alec following behind, still holding her hand.

  “I wish we had a flashlight,” she said.

  “Hold up. There’s an app for that.” He let go of her hand and pulled out his phone. A moment later, a beam of light illuminated the pier.

  “That’s very cool.” She kept her eyes down and successfully avoided the missing boards all the way to the pier’s end.

  “I can show you how to get it on your phone, if you like,” he told her.

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  They stood at the end of the pier looking out on the dark water. What had been a hot, sunny day marked by clear blue skies had turned into a cloudy night where the moon played now you see me, now you don’t and the stars were mostly hidden. Still, it was beautiful there on the edge of the bay.

  “Well, there had been moonlight.” He sounded disappointed as clouds moved across the face of the moon, and poof! The light was gone.

  “And there will be again. Look”—she pointed overhead—“the clouds are moving.”

  Alec stood behind her and slid his arms around her waist. Lis melted back into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if they’d stood like this before a thousand times. She was mentally urging him to kiss her when he turned her around and did exactly that. This time, there was nothing tentative about the kiss. It was hot and urgent and full of promise and passion.

  This is what it’s like when you kiss someone who matters, a voice inside her head told her, and she wondered where the thought came from. This is how it feels when it’s right.

  And then he was whispering in her ear, “Next time I’m bringing a bottle of wine. We’ll sit on the end of the pier, and after we finish drinking it, we’ll take turns spinning it.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Lis nodded.

  With Alec’s arm over her shoulder, they walked back to the car. The radio was playing softly as they drove back to Ruby’s. Alec pulled up behind Lis’s car and turned off the headlights. He was just about to reach across the console for her when he noticed the back porch light was on and someone was sitting in one of the rocking chairs.

  “Looks like your brother waited up for you.” Alec nodded in the direction of the porch.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Lis got out of the car and went straight for the porch. “Owen Elliott Parker, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Just sitting here, enjoying the night.” Owen raised a hand and waved to Alec. “Hey, Alec. I meant to tell you earlier—real nice job you did on this porch. This is real quality work here.”

  “Thanks, Owen.”

  “You’re welcome. Can I offer you a beer? I picked up a six-pack of MadMac Brews’s Honey Ginger on my way home. It’s really good.”

  “You’re not going to go inside, are you?” Lis asked.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re being a jerk.”

  “Probably. But it’s amusing me, so I’m okay with it.”

  Lis rolled her eyes. “Alec, thanks for a great night. I really enjoyed dinner.”

  “We’ll do it again soon,” Alec told her, obviously more amused than she was.

  Lis stood on the top step and leaned over to kiss Alec lightly on the lips. “I hope so.”

  She smacked her brother on the head as she went into the house.

  “Sure I can’t get you a beer?” she heard Owen ask Alec.

  She didn’t wait to hear Alec’s reply. She went straight up to her room and closed the door. What was it with Owen, anyway? She was thirty-five, not fifteen—not that he’d ever pulled a stunt like that when she was younger.

  She tossed her bag onto the bed. It had been a long day, one filled with emotion on several levels, and she had to admit that as annoyed as she was with Owen, exhaustion trumped even that. From the porch below, she heard voices, and she opened the window and tried to hear what was being said. If she knew Owen, he was trying to pump Alec for information about the blonde. She smiled in spite of herself. All in all, it had been a great night, one she would never forget.

  She changed out of her dress and hung it in the closet next to the black backup number she’d brought with her from her apartment. It was hard not to compare the two. It was like looking at her old life alongside her new one, like before-and-after pictures. She pulled her nightshirt over her head, turned off the light, and got into bed.

  Outside, the conversation went on in murmurs and occasional laughter. She turned over and fell asleep listening to the sound of Alec’s voice.

  Chapter Twelve

 
So what did you think of my sister’s artwork?” Owen raised the bottle to his lips after Lis had disappeared into the house.

  “She’s obviously very talented,” Alec replied.

  “That was too easy, Jansen. Too politic. Of course she has talent. She’s always had talent. Her talent is not what I’m asking you.” Owen tapped the side of the bottle with his fingers. “What I’m asking is, what you thought of the paintings. As in, did you like them?”

  “Well . . .” Alec cleared his throat and lowered his voice as if he thought Lis were standing behind him. “The subject matter is . . . well, sort of foreign to me.”

  “You mean city streets. Skyscrapers. Three lanes of traffic jammed with cars. Crowds gathered on street corners waiting for the lights to change.”

  “Well, I did like that last one, the one with all those people on the corner, standing in the rain. And I liked the ones in Central Park.”

  “So what you’re saying is you can’t relate to most of the others.”

  Alec sighed. “More or less.”

  “Yeah. Me, either.” Owen took a long drink, finished the bottle, and set it on the porch next to his chair. “I know she’s made her name painting that other stuff, but I feel she could do better, you know?”

  “I guess.” Alec had no idea where this was going.

  “I mean, I don’t understand how a girl who was raised among all this”—his arms spread to include the entire island—“would want to paint eighty-or-more-story buildings. Makes no sense to me. All that glass and steel . . . I don’t get it.”

  “I’m sure she could paint whatever she wanted,” Alec said cautiously, still not sure why he and Owen were having this conversation.

  “It’s like she was trying to ignore the fact that she grew up on an unspoiled island.” Owen turned to face Alec. “You see what I’m saying, right? That what she paints is the exact opposite of where she came from?”