She found Hank in the kitchen dressed smartly in Nantucket red chinos and a blue-and-white-checkered shirt. He checked his watch. “We’d better get going,” he said to no one in particular.
Beverly and Lindy descended the stairs as one flowy patterned unit. Piper noticed that her grandmother held her mother’s hand and Lindy kept the other firmly wrapped around her for support as they made their way slowly down. But despite her cautious progress, Beverly looked anything but frail.
“Grammy, you look gorgeous!”
Beverly fluttered her eyelashes. “This old thing?” For a woman who’d favored tailored clothes in subdued earth tones in her younger years, Beverly had embraced color and movement in what she referred to as her “wiser years.” She wore a white buttoned blouse over the turquoise maxi skirt. The effect was fluid and summery, giving her grandmother a watery, Mother Earth feel.
“Is that skirt from the Fisherman’s Daughter?”
Beverly reached the bottom and ran her hands down the soft folds of fabric. “Wren sent it over for me this morning. Isn’t it something?”
Hank could not take his eyes off of Lindy, who was wearing a vintage Pucci shirtdress that all three Bailey girls coveted. It was a hand-me-down from Beverly’s closet years ago that she only pulled out for very special summer occasions, and it was a not-so-funny family joke that they would fight each other for it when she tired of it or couldn’t fit into it, whichever happened first. So far neither had.
“Are we walking?”
Parking was always a problem downtown, so the location of the house was lucky—they could walk right up to Main. It had been a cooler day and there was a light breeze, making it a beautiful night to walk.
“We’re taking Grandma in a car. But you go ahead and we’ll meet you. Wren must be frantic with last-minute details.”
Crap. Lindy was right, Wren would be frantic and she should be there. Piper grabbed her handbag and took off. She turned left on to Main Street and trotted up the sidewalk, only to find that the rest of the way was bottlenecked. At day’s end, people streamed off of the beaches and into town. Downtown Chatham was not the place to be on foot when you were in a rush. “Excuse me,” she said, dodging a family coming toward her. She then got stuck behind a young woman with a double stroller who kept stopping to gaze at store windows Move over! A man coming toward her hopped off the sidewalk to let her pass. “Sorry! Thank you!” Wren’s shop was just up ahead across the way. Piper had just crossed the street, and was walking head down as she rummaged through her purse for a tube of lip gloss, when she smacked into a man standing outside a shop. Her bag fell to the ground, its contents scattering on the sidewalk. “Oh God. Sorry!” she cried. She popped down and began collecting her things.
The man bent to help her, as did his friend. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, it’s my own fault.” Her stuff was everywhere. Wallet. Pens. Pieces of paper and receipts. There was the damn lip gloss! She gathered it all up in her hands and stood. “Thank you so much.” He handed her bag back to her and it was then she finally looked up at him. Thirtysomething, dark hair, collared shirt. But it was his friend she could feel staring at her who almost made her drop her bag again.
“Piper.”
“Derek?”
The man glanced between the two. “You two know each other?”
Derek spoke first. “This is one of my students, Piper Bailey.” He looked both surprised and uncomfortable, and the introduction ended there.
“I’m Chad.”
“My brother-in-law,” Derek added quickly.
Piper shook his hand firmly, trying to keep her own from shaking. “Nice to meet you.” She snuck a look at Derek. He looked so handsome in a blue button-down shirt, his face already kissed with a day by the shore. “Enjoying your stay?” she asked.
He was staring at her, and she was relieved to be wearing her pretty white sundress. She stood up a little straighter.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, Chatham’s great.” He turned to Chad. “Right?”
“We spent the day at the beach,” Chad offered. “What was it . . . Ridgewood?”
“Ridgevale,” Piper said. “Best beach for little kids.” She looked at Derek as she said this.
“It was! The kids loved those tidal pools under the bridge. Tons of hermit crabs.”
“Piper lives here,” Derek said.
“Really? Lucky you. Say, where can we find a sandwich shop? Someone said it was down here somewhere?”
She pointed up the road. “Yeah, just ahead on your left. Jo Mamas.”
Chad was gazing down the street looking around, and Derek risked a smile at her. A sweet boyish smile. Piper felt that if she stayed on the sidewalk a second longer she might lose her composure. “Or try the Wicked Codder,” she said, turning back to Chad. “Was nice to meet you, but I’ve got to run. Late for a party!”
Derek sputtered back to life. “Okay. Yes! Take care.”
She didn’t dare look back, but somehow she knew if she turned around Derek would be watching her go.
The Fisherman’s Daughter’s front door was covered in plain brown wrapping paper. There were blue-and-green starfish drawn all over it in crayon: Lucy’s work, Piper was sure. On the sidewalk was a chalkboard sign covered in white lights: Grand Opening Party! 6:00 today! Seashells had been glued around the chalk lettering. It was rustic and festive and the stuff of mermaids. Wren had done it.
The door was locked so she knocked. Wren poked her head out. “Thank God! Where were you? I need you.”
“I’m here, I’m here!” Piper followed her in. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, bathing the shop in warm light. In the back, an old-fashioned drink cart was set up with a punch bowl. A wooden table was laden with their hard work from the day before. Piper snagged a potato scallop cake.
“Hey now,” Wren warned. But she was all smiles, dressed in a soft white tank and a green flowing skirt, much like the one Beverly wore. “You turned Grandma into a hot ticket,” Piper told her.
Wren’s face lit up. “Did she like it?”
“Like it? She may take over the shop when she gets here.” Piper glanced around “Where’s Luce?”
The dressing room curtain whipped aside. “Ta da!” Lucy popped out in the cutest blue-and-green smock dress. Her arms were covered in bracelets, from her tiny wrists right up to her elbows. “Baby, those are for sale. You need to put those back!” Wren told her.
Lucy twirled over to Piper, tipped her head against her in a quick hug, and twirled away to a display table where she extended one skinny arm and then the other dramatically. Clink, clink, clink went the bangle bracelets as they slid back into their silver tray.
Now was not the time to fill Wren in with news of her sidewalk run-in with Derek, but Piper’s heart was still pounding. That smile he’d laid on her.
“Shannon isn’t coming,” Wren said.
“What do you mean she’s not coming? This is your big night.”
Wren shook her head.
“She’d better be sick. Like bubonic plague sick.”
“It’s because of Dad.”
Piper couldn’t believe it. She knew Shannon was stubborn, but this. This was too much. “It’s because she’s an ass.”
“No, don’t,” Wren said. “I admit, I did feel that way yesterday when she called and told me. But this is heavy stuff for her.”
Piper looked at the closed front door. In thirty minutes they’d be opening it to the town and customers would be filing in. In thirty minutes their father would be one of them. He’d insisted on coming on his own, not wanting to take time away from anyone having to pick him up. “Do you want me take him home early? Then she can join for the party.”
“No, I’m going to let it go.” She glanced around the store and rolled her shoulders back. “This is what I have to focus on.”
Piper pulled her in for a hug. “Good girl.” Resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder she couldn’t help but laugh. “If you want me to drive over t
o Stage Harbor and smack her, I will.”
In spite of herself, Wren laughed, too. “Stop! You’re a horrible person.”
“We both are.”
Moments later there was another knock. Hank escorted Beverly in on his arm, Lindy following. “My my!” Beverly exclaimed. She opened her arms wide to the shop and to Lucy and Wren who hurried over to greet her. Lucy gave her great-grandmother the grand tour of “all the sparkly things,” as Hank held on to her arm. Lindy dipped into the punch and circled wagons with her daughters.
“Shannon’s a no-show,” Piper announced.
“What?”
“Piper, please. Let’s not get into it now,” Wren pleaded.
Piper glared at Lindy. “Can you believe her?”
Lindy seemed more concerned about how Wren felt about it. “What happened?”
Wren began fussing with plates of food, picking them up and rearranging them. “She doesn’t want to see Dad.”
There was no hiding the surprise on Lindy’s face. “Oh. I didn’t realize he was coming.”
Wren groaned. “Does that upset you?”
“No, no, sweetheart. You invite whomever you want. This is your night.”
Wren glanced around her shop, exapserated. “If only that were true.”
• • •
At five minutes to six, Wren unlocked the front door and they all stepped out onto the sidewalk, where to Piper’s surprise quite a few people waited. Ari gathered both ends of a giant Tiffany-blue ribbon that had been secured to either side of the doorway, and tied a neat bow in the middle. She handed Wren a pair of scissors. Already people had gathered on the sidewalk, some lining up for the opening, some stopping out of curiosity. Lindy appeared in the doorway carrying a tray of champagne-filled flutes and passed it over the ribbon to Ari before ducking under herself.
“What’s this?” Wren asked.
Lindy was already getting choked up as she passed around the flutes to those closest. “You didn’t think we’d let you open your doors without a proper toast, did you?”
Piper watched teary-eyed as Wren glanced around the growing crowd with a shy smile. Wren was strong in quiet ways. She was so proud of her big sister. What an amazing mother she was to Lucy, and what a huge accomplishment to envision and then open her own place. All on her own.
“Speech!” Hank shouted, raising a glass.
Reluctantly, Wren took her place in front of the door. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight. There have been more than a few nights that I passed here in the shop, redoing the floors and painting. Or working from my home. One hundred seventy-eight nights, to be exact.” Her voice cracked slightly, and Piper felt a lump grow in her own throat.
Beside her, the photographer from the Cape Cod Chronicle began snapping pictures. It was then Piper noticed Caleb standing a few heads behind him, among the crowd. “Dad,” she called, and he made his way to her. Piper pointed excitedly to him the second Wren looked over.
Wren cleared her throat. “Chatham is my hometown, and my goal was to bring to Main Street something unique and something we can all feel good about. All of the merchandise carried here is sourced from local artists and designers, and is eco-conscious. It’s about quality, and it’s about time.” Here she looked down at Lucy. “Lucy, I hope you know that Mommy did all of this with you in her heart. Will you help me open the store for all these lovely people?”
Lucy stepped out tentatively in front of the crowd, glancing over her shoulder at all the strange faces. With Wren’s hands on her own they held the scissors up to the bow and sliced in one clean sweep. The blue ribbon fell away and a burst of applause erupted on the sidewalk. “Welcome to the Fisherman’s Daughter!”
It turned out to be quite a party. The shop could barely contain all the visitors who streamed in and out. Jack Johnson played on the speakers and plates of food were passed. Customers sipped punch as they inspected the shelves of artwork, oohed and aahed over the jewelry, and waited in line to try on clothes in one of the two dressing areas. Ari stood sentinel at the cash register and Lindy sat alongside her, tucking purchases into the monogrammed recycled-paper bags with ocean-blue tissue paper. From time to time Beverly’s ebullient voice sailed over the crowd: “This shop belongs to my granddaughter!”
Piper tried to keep an eye on her father. She was wary of him bumping in to Beverly. Each knew the other was there, but in all the excitement and with his late arrival they had not, to her knowledge, crossed paths yet. Caleb stood protectively by the wave sculpture, which had been placed by the front window. He seemed to have memorized the sculptor’s information, and he shared it with anyone who came within earshot. She’d have to tell Wren about it later.
Wren was busy greeting customers as they came in the door. She answered questions about the designer who made the seaweed scarves and the jeweler who created the antique button necklaces. Already the racks of clothes were thinning out and there were a few bare spots on the wall where artwork had been taken down and purchased. With everyone focused on the front of the store, Piper had positioned herself by the dressing rooms, making suggestions and finding sizes for shoppers. Midway through the night a cute blonde woman emerged from the dressing room in a stretchy navy-and-white-striped dress that hit midthigh. She stood in front of the mirror, looking sheepishly at her reflection. “I don’t know. This is way more fitted than what I usually wear.” With her was a little girl with braids who was making silly faces in the mirror.
Piper came up to stand beside her. “Are you kidding? You look like a million bucks.” She meant it. The dress hugged her flat stomach and showed off her strong legs.
“Are you sure?”
Piper winked at her in the mirror. “If I looked like you do in that dress, I’d be wearing it right now. And to bed. And again tomorrow.”
The woman laughed. “You’re sweet.”
Her daughter tugged on the hem of the dress. “Mommy, can I go play with that girl?”
Piper followed her gaze to where Lucy was sitting behind the counter stacking a sleeve of plastic cups she must’ve snagged from the refreshment table. Piper knelt down beside her. “You know who that is? That’s my niece, Lucy. She’s six.”
The little girl smiled. She was missing both front teeth. “I’m six!”
“Six? Wow!” Piper said. “You can go say hi to her if you want. She’s really nice. Her mommy owns this store.”
“Is that all right?” the woman asked. “I hadn’t planned on bringing her in here with me, but when I walked by and saw the sign I had to come check it out.”
“Of course you did. It’s no trouble, I’ll keep an eye on them while you’re changing.”
“Thanks! This is the best customer service I’ve ever had. Usually people see me coming with the kids and beat it.” She returned to the dressing room with two more things. When she came out she looked pleased.
“Make a decision?” Piper asked.
“I’m getting this cute top.” She held up a white tunic. “And this skirt. But I’m going to think about the dress.” She called to her daughter who was busy with Lucy. The two had built quite the tower. “Thanks, again, for all your help!”
Piper grinned back at her. “It’s my job.” She was enjoying this retail thing. She loved clothes, even if Wren’s style was slightly more subdued than her own. And she loved talking to people.
• • •
By nine-thirty they were half an hour past closing time and still ferrying the last of the shoppers out the door. All the shops on Chatham closed early, and yet there were still people lingering among the display areas and straggling out the door. Ari counted the money in the till and whispered something to Wren.
When the last shopper left, Wren closed the front door and turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED. She flopped against the door. “I think I may collapse. But good news: we cleared one thousand and sixty-two dollars tonight.”
“And forty-three cents!” Ari called from behind the counter.
Beverly sta
rted clapping, and they followed suit. “Bravo.”
Wren looked exhausted, but in that drenched enduring way of a new mother who’s just given birth. “Now, it’s time to kick you all out,” she said, half-joking.
Piper, who hadn’t had a second to eat a thing, surveyed the food table. It had been ransacked, and only the crumbs of pita chips remained on a platter; a spoonful of red onion jam was left in its ramekin. She scooped it out and popped it in her mouth. “Any champagne left?”
Lindy shook her head. “Gone. Just like my stamina.”
Her family was spread out around the shop in various states of fatigue. Beverly had long ago been seated in a cushioned chair in the corner. Lindy was perched on a settee by the dressing room with Lucy, who was curled up fast asleep on her lap. Hank leaned against one of the mirrors, a dazed look on his face. Caleb came to stand by Piper, inspecting the table for scraps. “Looks like the buzzards got it all.”
“Yeah, and I’m starving.” She turned to look at him. “Did you eat anything tonight? You look a little pale.”
“Just tired.” He dabbed at his forehead, which she could see under the lantern had a few beads of perspiration. But it had been hot and stuffy in the store all night with the crowds, and she realized she, too, was feeling it.
“I do say, I think we’ll all sleep well tonight,” Beverly said. Everyone murmured consent, but no one stirred.
“I guess we should bring the car around for Mom,” Lindy said, looking to Hank.
Sailing Lessons Page 23
