Hometown Girl: The Chesapeake Diaries

by Mariah Stewart

  No one should follow the same routine for sixty years, she admonished herself. If she were wise, she’d follow her boss’s lead and retire this year.

  Old habits indeed died hard.

  That morning, when Curtis came through the front door, she had a déjà vu moment. For just a flash, she remembered how it used to be, and she got up from her desk apologizing for not having his coffee ready. Now she was trying to be honest with herself—had it been memory, or confusion, that had caused her to hurry into the kitchen and begin to fill the pot with water?

  Maybe it was time to retire. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Who in their right mind wanted to be working at her age?

  And since she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that the real reason—the only reason—she insisted on coming in was to keep an eye on Jesse Enright.

  When he arrived in St. Dennis that first time, she’d been convinced that he was up to no good. After all, hadn’t she known his father from the day he was born until the day he cut ties with his family? She knew the havoc he’d caused. Havoc and heartbreak, that was Craig. He’d been such a sweet little boy, she recalled. Up until he entered his teens, that is. She’d watched along with his family as a sort of restlessness had begun to take over the boy. What had caused it, she’d never known, and she suspected no one else did either. Maybe not even Craig.

  The real sin of it all, in Violet’s eyes, was Rose dying so suddenly before she had a chance to reconcile with her son. Oh, they’d tried to track Craig down, but hadn’t been able to locate him until his mother was already buried. By then, Curtis had nothing left to say to his firstborn, and he’d never forgiven him. All ties were severed, and had stayed severed, until Jesse showed up in St. Dennis that morning about ten months ago.

  Violet sighed at the memory. She’d assumed a lot of things about Jesse that had turned out to be so wrong. She’d thought he was a clever gold digger from the time he arrived until just that morning, when she’d seen the genuine affection and respect in Jesse’s eyes when he came into his office and found his grandfather waiting for him.

  And then there was this matter of a surprise party for Curtis. Jesse would have no way of knowing that his grandfather hated surprises.

  Which put Violet right in the middle. Jesse had confided his plans in her, but there was a real possibility that Curtis might not react the way Jesse thought he would. And then there was the question of Craig’s other children. What to do about them? It was one thing not knowing how Curtis would feel about being surprised, but where those three were concerned, might he not feel he’d been blindsided? On the other hand, perhaps he’d see this as an opportunity to become reacquainted while still allowing him to save face.

  “Well, there is only one way to deal with this,” she murmured. She grabbed her handbag, put on her coat, and turned out all but the hall light. It was time to pay a visit to the boss.

  There had been a time when she’d been a regular visitor at the big house at the end of Old St. Mary’s Church Road. Back in the day, she and her Allan and Rose and Curtis had been such close friends. It had been Rose who’d helped them to make the arrangements to bury their daughter, Amelia, who’d fallen off the bridge linking St. Dennis to Cannonball Island, and Rose who’d convinced her that Curtis needed assistance in the office, someone he could trust implicitly. It had taken Violet several years to figure out that offering the job was Rose’s way of helping Violet move on after Amelia’s death, but she’d never regretted one day she spent working for Enright and Enright.

  Ringing the doorbell brought back more than a few memories. Seeing an aged Curtis open the door brought her back to the present.

  “Violet.” He smiled. “Twice in one day after not seeing you in weeks. Come in, come in. It’s too cold for either of us to be standing in that wind.”

  He ushered her into the sitting room that looked exactly the way it had when Rose was alive, and gestured for her to have a seat.

  “Can I take your coat?”

  “No, I’m not going to be staying that long.”

  “What brings you by? Did I leave my glasses at the office again?” He patted his shirt pocket. “Nope, there they are.”

  “I just wanted to have a chat with you, Curtis. Something’s bothering me.” She took off her gloves and held them on her lap. “It’s about Jesse.”

  Violet watched the color drain from Curtis’s face as he slowly sat on the chair that faced hers.

  “What about Jesse?”

  “Oh, nothing like that,” she assured him when she realized he was expecting something really bad. “No, no, he’s a fine young man, Curtis. It’s something quite good, actually, but it’s something I feel I need to discuss with you.”

  Curtis visibly relaxed. “Go on, Vi.”

  “First you need to promise that you won’t tell him that we had this conversation.”

  “All right. I promise.” Curtis looked wary, so she decided to just throw it out there.

  “Jesse wants to throw a party for your birthday. A surprise party.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in.

  “Oh,” Curtis finally said. “That’s … that’s very … thoughtful of him.”

  “You can’t let on that you know, Curtis. You promised. And he took me into his confidence. He’s trusting me.” Violet paused. “You may not have noticed, but we—Jesse and I—haven’t always gotten along.”

  Curtis nodded. He’d noticed.

  “Well, it’s entirely my fault. I didn’t give him a chance. I’m not proud of that, but there it is. But he’s won me over.”

  “Good. I was hoping—”

  “—that I’d judge him on his own merits, not permit the sins of the father … oh, all that.”

  “I’d harbored a lot of the same prejudices, Violet. We all did. Even Mike has come around.”

  “So. The party. Jesse has asked me to help with the guest list. Which of course, I’m happy to do.”

  “No one better,” Curtis agreed. “You know everyone—friends, clients, family. The nieces and the nephews and the grandchildren.”

  “Yes, well, that’s part of the reason I’m here. It’s about inviting your grandchildren.”

  “Well, of course, Jesse will invite his sister. And there are Mike’s kids, you know how to get in touch with them.” Curtis stared at her for a moment. “What’s the problem, Violet? Out with it.”

  “It’s the other ones I’m not sure about.”

  “The other …” She was several feet away, but she heard the soft intake of his breath as he realized who “the other ones” were. “Delia’s children.”

  Interesting, Violet thought. Not Craig’s children with Delia, or Craig’s children with his first wife, but Delia’s children.

  “What about them?” he asked gruffly.

  “How would you feel about inviting them?”

  The silence was almost overwhelming.

  “They’re your grandchildren, just as much as the others, Curtis,” she reminded him.

  “I’m aware of that.”

  They stared at each other for a long time, until Violet began to think that this time she’d really overstepped. But finally, Curtis said, “I haven’t seen those children since they were … well, children. Delia’s choice, not ours, Violet. God knows that Rose and I tried, but Delia’s a stubborn cuss. She wanted nothing to do with us after Craig walked out on them.”

  He got up and began to pace back and forth across the room. Funny, she thought, how Jesse had the same habit when something was bothering him and he was searching for a solution.

  “I don’t know them, Vi.”

  “Then I suppose you’ll need to decide if you want to know them. If you do, now’s your chance.” She smiled. “And Jesse inviting them even lets you save face.”

  “What if Jesse invites them and they won’t come?”

  “Then you’re no worse off than you are right now.”

  Curtis rubbed his chin. “What if it just opens up a lot
of old wounds? For them, I mean, and for their mother.”

  “They’re adults, Curtis. I suspect they can deal with it, if they haven’t already.”

  “May I think it over?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she assured him. “It is your surprise party.”

  “Jesse is a thoughtful boy,” he said. “He’s smart and he’s a very good lawyer. I respect his judgment. I respect him as a man. I’ve grown very fond of him. He’s everything we’d hoped that …” He left the sentence unfinished, but Vi knew what he meant.

  Jesse was everything they’d hoped Craig would have been.

  “Well, maybe we’ll find out that Nicky has grown up to be a good man, too, Vi, and that his sisters take after their mother, not their father.”

  “That was my thinking, as well.”

  “I wish that one of them—Jesse or one of Mike’s kids—would settle down here in St. Dennis. Do you think that would ever happen?”

  “Oh, I’d bet on it.” Violet smiled.

  “Do you know something I don’t know?”

  “I know that Jesse and Brooke Madison … that would be, Brooke Bowers now … seem to have eyes for one another.”

  “Really?” Curtis smiled, too.

  “Just my observation, of course.”

  “You’re usually right about such things, Violet. I relied on that intuition of yours many times in the past, and I never regretted it.”

  “Thank you, Curtis.” Violet stood. Her work here was done.

  “You think we should invite Delia’s three, don’t you?”

  “I do, Curtis. I think it’s the right thing to do.” She added, “I think it’s what Rose would want you to do.”

  “You’re right, of course.” He nodded. “Tell Jesse that you thought it over and you think it might not be a bad idea to invite those half siblings of his. Who knows how many more birthdays any of us will have? It’s time we tried to put this family back together again.” He paused and looked at her from across the room. “Let’s hope it isn’t too late …”

  Diary ∼

  Had a lovely visit with Lucy, though all too short, as always. But she will be back soon—perhaps several times between now and the big wedding, which could be even more exciting and star-studded than Dallas’s birthday party, though I could be wrong about that. I only hope that dreamy Sidney Warren is invited back. I’ll even let him have my room at the inn if we’re sold out (down, Gracie!). Just kidding, of course.

  I just happened to be driving past Curtis Enright’s grand old house last night and who did I see marching up the front walk but Violet Finneran. Mustn’t read anything into that—they’ve been friends forever and a day. And of course, Violet was such a close friend of Rose’s. I remember my mother telling me once that when they were girls, they were known as the Three Blossoms. That would have been, of course, with Lilly Ryder as the third. Anyway, it took me back to the days when the Enrights had such parties in that house. There was a cook and for a time, Mother said, a real butler, if one could imagine such a thing in St. Dennis! Of course, thinking about the family reminded me that Mike and Andrea are having such a terrible time with her illness. I must not forget to keep them both in my nightly prayers. And young Jesse, too—what a dear boy he is. You’d never believe he’s Craig’s son. I swear I don’t see a trace of his father in him, which leads me to think that Jesse’s mother must be a lovely woman. I did hear that Craig divorced her some years ago. Anyway—I think the boy is going to work out just fine here. I also think I see something developing between him and Brooke, which would please everyone so much. She’s grown up to be a lovely girl, one who deserves another chance at happiness. I watched them dance at the Halloween ball—she was our unanimous choice for queen this year—I couldn’t have been the only one who thought they looked so right together.

  I’m wondering if I dare get out Alice’s books to see if I could help that along somewhat …

  No, no, of course not. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing. I have sworn off magic and have retired my book of spells. Besides, who knows if any of that was real? Sometimes, in retrospect, I think that it may have been just a way to pass the time for Alice, who was so lonely, and a bunch of young girls who were curious and easily influenced and who so much wanted to believe …

  ∼ Grace ∼

  Chapter 13

  BROOKE finished frosting the last of the chocolate ganache cupcakes and stepped back to assess their appearance. There was more than a little ganache left over. Would little truffles adorning the tops of the cupcakes be overkill?

  Maybe. But she decided to go with them anyway. If she made the truffles small enough, she might have enough ganache for all three batches. She rolled the ganache into little balls then rolled them in powdered cocoa. When she was finished, she packed them into their designated boxes: one for Scoop, one for Cuppachino, one for Lola’s.

  The remaining six cupcakes were to be packed into a box of their own. She was just placing them inside when her mother came into the kitchen, her bag over her shoulder. She was clearly headed out, but she stopped to inspect her daughter’s handiwork.

  “Those look delicious,” Hannah told Brooke. “Aren’t you late getting these out?”

  “Stef and Carlo both wanted to test the waters for afternoon and evening sales, since the morning batches are selling out by lunch. So I said I’d make an extra dozen and drop them off on my way to school.”

  Hannah glanced at the three marked boxes. “Who are these for?”

  “I made extra to take to Jesse’s office. I have an appointment later this afternoon to rewrite my will. We’re going to try to get it finished today.”

  “You’re paying him in cupcakes?” Hannah appeared amused. “I knew the firm would be accommodating since we’re clients from way back, but really …”

  “I’m taking them because the appointment will most likely run through the dinner hour and Jesse suggested we plan on eating there at the office. I thought I’d bring dessert.”

  “Oh?”

  “It seemed a good time to take care of this once and for all, since Clay will be bringing Logan home from soccer and they usually stop somewhere on the way home to eat. We almost never eat dinner with them on Thursday anyway.” Brooke cut a length of string from a nearby spool. “Does this leave you on your own? Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. I’d be just as happy to pick up soup or something light and go right over to the new house and start unpacking some of the boxes in the kitchen. Clay dropped some things off for me this morning after he finished making his apple deliveries.”

  “Oh, then it’s good timing all the way around.” Brooke wrapped the string around the box and tied it off.

  “That must be some will that could take several hours to write.” Hannah opened her bag and looked for her keys.

  “We’re rewriting the one that Eric and I had drawn up when we were first married,” Brooke explained. “A lot has changed since then.”

  Hannah rubbed Brooke’s back for a few seconds before swiping her finger through the leftover ganache in the bowl on her way to the back door.

  “Delicious.” She licked her finger clean. “I have an early appointment with the decorator at my house in about twenty minutes, so I guess I won’t see you until later this evening. Have fun at school and at … the lawyer’s office.” She smiled and added, “No one can say that my girl doesn’t know how to have a good time.”

  Brooke laughed and reached for the phone as it rang.

  “Hey, Dallas,” she said when she saw the caller ID. “What’s up?”

  “I was hoping to catch you at home so I could bring you up-to-date on the latest,” Dallas told her. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “Steffie and I met with Lucy yesterday and she’s agreed to do our weddings—both on the same date if we could work that out with the inn, which we’ve done. So December tenth it is.”

  “Terrific. So you’re all set.” Brooke quietly ran the water in the sink to r
inse out the ganache bowl. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. It will be crazy to get everything done that we both want, pull it all together so it all works, but Lucy said she loves a challenge. So I’m taking Stef to New York tomorrow to see about getting a gown for her and I thought you might want to come along, since we’ll be looking at the gowns for attendants at the same time. I did call ahead to the designer—I’m going with Teresa Kearney—who, after she finished having a heart attack, assured me that she could do anything we wanted and she promised to have it all done on time. She even agreed to come to St. Dennis personally with her seamstress to do the fittings.”

  “Of course she did.” Brooke snorted. “As if anyone would be nuts enough to turn you down. Anyone without your clout wouldn’t have been given the time of day.”

  “This is one of those times when I was glad to have a little clout. So what do you say? Can you come along?”

  “I would love to,” Brooke admitted. “I haven’t been to New York in so long, and I’ve never in my life been anywhere near the studio of a famous fashion designer like Teresa Kearney. But I have a paper due by eleven tomorrow morning and it isn’t finished. It’s the last one before the final, so it has to be good.”

  “I understand. And I realize it’s last-minute notice, but I was just this morning able to get through to Teresa to confirm that she could see us.” Dallas sighed. “All of a sudden there’s so much to do. I can’t wait to go over all the details with you. Lucy had some amazing ideas, but between you and me, if she can pull this off, she’s a genius. Just thinking about what it’s going to take to coordinate what Stef wants with what I want gives me a headache.”

  “So don’t think about it. Let Lucy worry. That’s what you hired her to do, right?”

  “Right. You’re right.” Dallas sounded relieved. “I wish you were coming with us tomorrow.”