Secrets on Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  “There’s my cutie pie,” I said, leaning over to place a kiss on the baby’s head. “I swear she’s growing by the day, Grace.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I know. She’ll be seven months old already in a couple weeks. Not only did the one tooth come in, but she now has two.”

  “So she had plenty of reason for all that fussing.” As I glanced at Solange, I felt my heart turn over. Those baby years went way too fast for most mothers to appreciate and enjoy them. Maybe it was because we were so caught up with the actual care we didn’t take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments. It was difficult to remember when John and Jason were that age, and I realized that perhaps this was the reason women in my age-group were so enthralled about becoming grandmothers. They now had the time, and less responsibility was involved, allowing them to truly enjoy all the precious moments. I couldn’t help but wonder how long I’d have to wait before John or Jason made me a grandmother.

  “The usual?” I heard Suellen say.

  I looked up and smiled. “Yes, thanks. That would be great.”

  “So,” Grace said. “I hear you’re going to be on your way to Paris. I’m so excited for you. I think you know that France is my favorite place to be. Of course, being married to a Frenchman could account for part of that.”

  I laughed and nodded. “Hmm, you could be right. Yes, I’m hoping to get there, but you probably heard I’m having a problem trying to find a place to stay last minute.”

  “Yeah, but Lucas has jotted down the names of some hotels for you to contact. Oh,” she said, looking up, “here he is now.”

  “Hey, Lucas,” I said as he approached the table, placing a kiss on Grace’s lips first and then on Solange’s cheek. I noticed how the baby’s face lit up at the sight of her father, and for some strange reason I had a flashback to my boys’ faces doing the same thing. I was the one who spent all day with my sons, feeding them, cleaning up after them, playing with them, but when Andrew walked in the door each evening, they only had eyes for him. The flashback momentarily made me think of Fiona, and I pushed the thought aside.

  “Grace said you’re having trouble trying to locate a hotel over Thanksgiving. That can be a busy time in Paris, I’m afraid. My cousin owns an apartment there, so I gave him a call, but unfortunately it was rented months ago to a family from the States. So the best I can do is this list of names,” he said, passing me the paper.

  “Oh, Lucas, that was so nice of you to even call your cousin. I really appreciate that. And thanks for this list. I’ll get on the Internet over the weekend and see if they have availability.”

  “These hotels are on the Left Bank. I’m familiar with most of them, but they’re not anything fancy. Actually, some of the rooms might be quite small by American standards.”

  “Hey, that’s what I get for waiting till the last minute. And besides, I’m not planning to spend much time in my room. Too much to see and do.”

  Both Lucas and Grace laughed.

  “Very true,” she said. “Anything in particular you have in mind to see?”

  “Well, I saw all the touristy things the first time I went there after college. So maybe I’ll revisit a few, but mainly I just want to sit at the sidewalk cafés, watch the world go by, and soak up Paris.”

  “That’s the best way to really experience that city,” Lucas said. “Well, I have to get back to the bookshop. Let me know if I can help with anything else.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I stood up. “I’m going to get my latte and get back to the yarn shop,” I told Grace. “Take care and thanks again.”

  I walked into the shop to see Worth and my mother hunched over a large piece of paper on the counter, with Chloe looking on from the side.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Well, Marin, I think we have some good news for you,” my mother said.

  I was ready for good news and saw my mother nod at Worth. “The fellows came about the roof, and they’ll be able to begin work in three weeks. They have a few other jobs to finish up first, but they said it should only take a couple weeks to complete both the roof and the ceiling. After that I can get the rest of the work done. So . . . it’ll be tight, but you just might be able to open before Christmas.”

  “Really?” All of a sudden my compulsion to open before December 25 didn’t feel as strong. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t rush it. If it happens before Christmas, great. But I still have to order the stock, and it really won’t be the worst thing in the world if I can’t open till after the first of the year.”

  I saw Worth and my mother exchange a glance.

  “We have more news,” she said, pointing to the paper on the counter. “Since Worth will have a few weeks free from working on the needlepoint room, he said he can begin work on the outdoor area and the carriage house. Come on, we’ll show you.”

  I followed them through the small back room and outside.

  “Okay,” Worth said as he gestured with his hands. “This area here with the grass will be covered with cement, and the screening on the side will connect the carriage house and the yarn shop.”

  “This will be so perfect.” I heard the excitement in Chloe’s voice. “It’s a good size and will be ideal for the ladies to sit out here and knit.”

  Worth nodded. “Right. This area is approximately three hundred square feet, so you’ll be able to fit in tables and chairs and not feel cramped.”

  “Exactly,” my mother said, leading the way into the carriage house. “This is going to need new walls and new flooring, and I’m praying the roof on this structure is okay and you won’t find leaks when you do the ceiling in here.”

  “We’ll have the guys take a look at it when they come to do the other one.” He shined a flashlight upward. “But from what I can see, I think we’re going to be okay.”

  “Won’t it be great to have more room for our yarn?” Chloe said. “I can’t wait to get in here and start arranging everything.”

  I smiled. “I know the feeling,” I told her. “It all sounds great, and you think you’ll be able to get started on this part of the project soon?”

  “Absolutely,” he assured me. “Next week, in fact. I’ve gone as far as I can with the other room, so Monday morning Kyle and I will begin working out here.”

  I was able to see that things were slowly beginning to fall into place. Now if only I could decide what to do about Fiona and find a hotel room in Paris. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that those two things would make everything right in my little world—but they might go a long way toward helping.

  21

  I arrived at the Black Dog later that evening to find Worth standing on the sidewalk with Suzette’s leash in his hand.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But I’ve been gone so much lately, I hated leaving her alone again this evening.”

  I knew Worthington Slater was a good man, but I kept discovering more proof of this.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I said, bending down to ruffle the dog’s curly chest. “She’s adorable and quite well behaved, I might add. Suzette is very welcome to join us.”

  The huge smile on Worth’s face was my reward.

  I led the way up the stairs and to the outside deck, where we chose a table in the back. The sky was darkening quickly and I realized that this first weekend in November was when we’d be changing our clocks back one hour, which would mean it would be dark even earlier.

  We gave our order for wine and I caught the smile that Worth gave me across the table.

  “I was pleased to find the fellows to do the roof,” he said. “I don’t want you to get your hopes too high, but as I’d said earlier, you just might be able to open the shop before Christmas.”

  I nodded and realized that not only had I not told Chloe about my Paris plans, but I hadn’t shared them with Worth either.

  “That would be good, but . . . I began making some plans the other day that will keep me occupied until that happens.” I thanked the waitress when she p
laced a glass of Ecco Domani in front of me, and I saw the curiosity in Worth’s expression. “I’m taking a trip to Paris at the end of the month.”

  “Really? Well, good for you. From what you’ve said, it’s about time that you return there. Here’s to a great trip,” he said, lifting his glass to touch the rim of mine.

  “Thanks.” I took a sip and then shook my head. “Well, I’m not all that certain that it will even materialize. I booked my flight before I even thought about booking a hotel room, and now it seems . . . well, either there’s no availability or the prices are way out of my league.”

  “And you’ve tried some of the smaller, out-of-the-way hotels? If they’re not in the touristy areas, you might have better luck.”

  “I’ve tried quite a few of them, and Lucas gave me a list today that I plan to check out. Now that I’ve actually taken the first step with booking the flight, I’ve allowed myself to get excited about going. I think it might be good to get away for a couple of weeks. You know, clear my head, figure out what I’m going to do about Fiona, just . . . chill out. Alone.”

  “I think it’s a great idea, and I think you need to do it.” He took a sip of wine and seemed to be deep in thought. After a few moments, he said, “Listen, I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything . . . but I might have a solution to your problem.”

  “You do? What? Do you own a hotel in Paris?” I kidded him.

  “Ah, no. Not a hotel, but I do own an apartment. Three of them, actually.”

  I stared across the table at his face, trying to decipher if he was joking with me, but his expression was perfectly serious.

  “You do?” I replied as I wondered what other secrets this man might have. “How come you’ve never mentioned this?”

  He shrugged, which led me to think that owning three apartments in Paris wasn’t all that important to him, and he confirmed this when he said, “I guess I didn’t think it was a big deal. I bought them quite a few years ago, mainly as investments when the prices were good. Over the years I’ve been able to upgrade and refurbish two of them, and I have them listed with a management company as rentals. But the third one I use when I go over there on business and to visit my daughter, so it’s never rented out.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage to say.

  “It isn’t anything fancy, but it’s a great location in the Latin Quarter on rue des Lyonnais. A two-bedroom on the ground floor, and I have a small garden outside the living room, which is nice for sitting outside in good weather.”

  And so? Was he offering to rent me his apartment? Not quite—as I found out a moment later.

  “You said you’re flying over the end of the month?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I leave on November twenty-fifth and I’ll be there for two weeks, flying back on December ninth.”

  He took another sip of wine and then said, “Well, the solution to your problem would be that you take my apartment to stay in.”

  “Really?” I could feel my excitement building as Paris was becoming more of a reality. “You’d be willing to rent me your apartment? God, I’d be so grateful! Would it be about the same price as one of the smaller hotels?”

  Worth laughed. “No, no. I’m not going to rent you my apartment. I’d like you to just stay there.”

  Okay, so maybe he was the wealthiest guy in Marion County and didn’t need the money, but it didn’t seem right for me to take his place rent-free.

  When he saw my hesitation, he said, “Well . . . there is one minor problem.”

  My head jerked up and I saw a smile cross his face as I waited for his explanation.

  “I had already made plans a few months ago to fly over in early December. I do this every year to spend time with my daughter and grandchildren. We exchange our Christmas gifts then and have our holiday together. I’d prefer to be here in the States on the actual day, and Caroline and her husband usually take the kids skiing over the Christmas holidays, so this works out well for us.”

  I nodded and said, “That’s a nice arrangement,” still not understanding his meaning.

  His smile broadened. “Well, my plans have been made to fly over on December third for five nights.”

  Oh. Now I understood, and the first thing that came to my mind was, And that would be a problem, why? Spending quality, private, alone time with this handsome man was becoming more enticing each time I was with him. But what I said was, “Oh, then I couldn’t possibly come and be there at the same time you need your apartment.”

  Worth reached across the table and grasped my hand, creating a surge of heat in my body. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe too long.

  “On the contrary,” he said, staring into my eyes. “It is a two-bedroom, so you’d have your own space, and you certainly wouldn’t be intruding on mine. In fact, I’d welcome your company. Besides, it’s the least I can do after the setback with opening the needlepoint shop.”

  Needlepoint shop? At that moment that was the last thing on my mind. I wasn’t sure if it was the glass of wine that I’d just consumed or my vivid imagination, but I had visions of lovers strolling hand in hand along the Seine, couples clinking champagne glasses at sidewalk cafés, bouquets of flowers on the pavement in front of florist shops, everything about Paris enveloped in a romantic cocoon.

  I felt Worth squeeze my hand and heard him say, “Well? What do you think? Is it a deal?”

  I recalled my mother’s words about Andrew and my moving on: It doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy the company of another man—or even love—during your lifetime.

  I squeezed Worth’s hand in return and smiled. “It is a deal, and thank you for your offer. You’re helping to make one of my dreams come true.”

  “I hope so,” he said, and I detected huskiness in his tone that I hadn’t noticed before.

  We had another glass of wine as we discussed our schedule and instructions for me about the apartment before we left the Black Dog. When I returned home, I found that my mother had turned in early, so I prepared myself a mug of herbal tea and took it to my bedroom, where I changed into pajamas, removed my makeup, and then curled up in bed.

  I felt a smile spreading across my face. For the first time in a long time, I could say I was happy. Or at least beginning to feel happy. Here I was about to embark on a whole new adventure at age fifty-six. And if I was honest—here I was feeling attracted to a very handsome and nice man. And above all, here I was within a few weeks of returning to my beloved Paris. And that was when it hit me, and I let out a deep sigh. The hurt and betrayal that Andrew had inflicted on me returned full force and stabbed me again. I felt tears stinging my eyes. Damn you, Andrew. Damn you for what you did.

  I had tried to block Fiona and our conversation out of my mind, but I knew that eventually I was going to have to face it and deal with it. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe the best way to deal with it would be by going away for a while, taking a break, and allowing myself time.

  My inner voice kept telling me that Paris was precisely the place to do this, and—thanks to Worthington Slater—that was going to happen.

  22

  I pulled into the parking lot of the Flying Biscuit and glanced at Chloe.

  “So you think I was smart to accept Worth’s offer to stay at his apartment?”

  “Of course I do. You would have been silly not to, for a few reasons.”

  We got out of the car and walked toward the restaurant. “Like what?” I asked.

  Chloe waited till we got inside and were seated to answer me. “Well,” she said, picking up her menu and giving it a quick glance. “For one, at the rate you were going with accommodations, it wasn’t looking very promising.”

  I nodded. “Hmm, true.”

  “And for another, come on. I doubt that many women would find it a hardship staying with a handsome man like Worth in an apartment in Paris.”

  “God, you make it sound like a rendezvous. I had no idea he owned apartments in Paris, much less that he’d be there part of
the same time.”

  “Exactly,” she said, a grin on her face. “Consider that a bonus.” She looked up at the waitress who had approached our table. “The omelet for me, one of your famous biscuits, and coffee, please.”

  I glanced down at my menu and realized that even though I’d skipped breakfast before we left the island, I didn’t have much of an appetite for brunch, but I mumbled, “I’ll have the same.”

  When the waitress walked away, Chloe looked at me and shook her head. “Don’t look so uptight. This trip is supposed to decrease your stress, not increase it.”

  “I know, but God . . . I haven’t shared living arrangements with anybody since I married Andrew.”

  “Worth said the apartment has two bedrooms. You enjoy his company. He’s so familiar with Paris, I’m sure he’ll point out some of the out-of-the-way places that you might otherwise not see. Go with an open mind, Marin, and enjoy yourself.”

  I could have sworn I heard her say, “And with an open heart,” under her breath, but I let it go.

  After we finished eating we headed to the mall, which was the purpose of our drive to Gainesville. I hadn’t bought any new clothes in ages and thought perhaps a few new items for my upcoming trip might be in order. I invited Chloe along for company and moral support. I was never sure what looked good on me and what didn’t.

  Chloe suggested we hit Coldwater Creek first. “I love their clothes. For classy, mature women,” she said. “And not girls in their twenties.”

  I hoped that didn’t translate to dowdy. As soon as we walked into the shop, I discovered it didn’t.

  Two hours later I was certain that I’d tried on just about every item in the store, with Chloe running back and forth acting as my personal fitter. But it had been a very successful shopping spree, as my credit card could attest to.

  Driving back to the island, I began to have doubts about some of the items. “You don’t think that black dress might be a little too . . .”