At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (27 page)

“And you think it might need some work?”

“I know it does. It’s just a matter of how much and what it will cost. I was hoping you could help me out on both counts.”

“Absolutely. When can we get in to take a look?”

“At your earliest convenience. I have a key,” she explained.

“How about tomorrow afternoon around four?”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you there. You know where it is, right?”

“Sure. Everyone knows Walsh’s.”

Sophie tapped her pen on the blotter after they ended the call, thinking she’d have to come up with a name for the place, and soon. She couldn’t keep calling it “the old Walsh’s” or “the restaurant.”

At one, she ate the lunch she’d brought from home, changed her clothes, and resumed the task of sorting through files and putting closed cases in the new file
room. Violet left at five, and at five thirty, she started to glance out the front window every fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until seven that she admitted she’d been watching for Jason, and it took her another twenty minutes to own up to the fact that she’d been hoping he’d stop in. His help aside—if not for him, she’d probably be in traction from lugging all those heavy files from one end of the office to the other—she found that the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. She liked the fact that he was thoughtful of not only her, but her grandfather and his nephew as well. That family meant a lot to him. That he made her smile, made her laugh … and oh, yes, made her heart race and her knees weak. Made her want more when he kissed her.

Funny, she thought, as she prepared to close the office for the night, but when she broke up with Christopher, the last thing she wanted was another relationship. He’d burned her so badly, she’d thought it would be forever before she’d be able to trust anyone again—before she’d even
want
to trust another man again, before she’d want another man to touch her. And yet here she was, a mere three months later, watching the street and watching the time, disappointed that Jason hadn’t stopped in again tonight. Not that he was obligated to, of course, but still … it would have been nice to see him again tonight.

She gathered her things and went through the office, turning off the lights.
Maybe tomorrow night
, she thought as she locked the front door.

A girl could hope.

Jason stood at the take-out counter of the new Thai restaurant and scanned the menu for what seemed
like the fiftieth time. Thai Gardens was a new place, located on the highway just outside of town, but a woman he’d chatted with at Walt’s last Friday night mentioned that the food was really good there. At the time, he doubted she’d talked it up so that he could buy dinner for someone else, since she’d clearly been wrangling for a dinner date, but the obvious type had never interested him. Actually, Jason had no type. He’d dated women of different sizes and shapes and hair coloring, athletic women and couch potatoes, smart women and women who were … well, endowed in other ways.

There were times when he almost wished he did have a type: it might have made it easier to know what he was looking for. Up until recently, he hadn’t really been aware that he was looking. But it occurred to him that he was over thirty, a small business owner—and now a property owner—so he’d crossed a lot off his “to do” list, and maybe it just followed that meeting the right woman should be next.

But lately, it seemed he’d been interested in only one woman, and he wasn’t sure how to go about pursuing her. For one thing, she was his friend’s younger sister, and he’d learned back in high school that dating a friend’s little sister could have repercussions. For another, Jason and the grandfather of the lady in question had a relationship that he’d hate to see ruined if, for example, he was dating the granddaughter and things turned out badly. Still, there really wasn’t anyone else who’d caught his eye the way Sophie Enright had, and while he wasn’t much of a gambler, there was something about her that made him believe it was worth a try.

So here he stood, trying to decide between the Panang Curry, the Pad Thai, and the Kao Pad Saparod. The last sounded the most exotic—chicken with jasmine rice stir-fried with pineapple—but he didn’t know Sophie well enough to know if it would appeal to her. It sounded good, though, so he ordered it and the Pad Thai, which he’d had once before and liked. He took a seat and waited for the food to be prepared, and twenty-five minutes later, he walked out with a brown bag of aromatic goodies in the crook of his arm.

He drove into town and headed straight for the office on the corner of Old St. Mary’s Church Road. He came to a stop in front of the building, his heart sinking when he realized the office was dark. He got out of his car and checked around the side, just in case Sophie was working in her office toward the back, but there were no lights on. He could have kicked himself for having wasted so much time scrutinizing the menu and deliberating—his mother would have said “dillydallying”—over what to order. He walked back to his truck and thought about driving past Sophie’s house, but he wondered if that might seem too much like stalking.

Either way, he’d struck out. He got back into the cab of the pickup and drove home, hoping he liked what he bought, because it looked like he’d be eating Thai for the rest of the week.

Sophie could barely contain herself on Wednesday morning, knowing that she’d be meeting with Cam and Ellie to go through the restaurant that afternoon.
She tried to play down her excitement when she mentioned it to Violet, who was fixing her morning tea in the kitchen.

“Oh, by the way,” Sophie said with all the nonchalance she could muster, “Cameron is looking at the building this afternoon. You know, checking it out to see what repairs it needs.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Violet dunked a tea bag into a cup of steaming water.

“So I guess we should know pretty soon how much it’s going to cost to fix up.”

“He’d be the one to talk to about that.” Violet nodded. “Have you seen the box of stevia that I brought in last week? I thought I put it in this cabinet.”

“Next one over.” Sophie tried again to engage Violet, hoping she’d show some enthusiasm. “So I guess I’ll bring in Cam’s estimate as soon as I get it, so we can go over it together and you can decide what you want to invest.”

“You’ll make the decisions on what you need for the renovations and for your start-up costs, and that’s what I’ll invest. It’s as simple as that.” She looked up from her cup, glared at Sophie in the way only Violet could, and added, “Please keep in mind the silent part of ‘silent investor.’ ”

“Got it.” Sophie nodded and took her coffee into her office.

Sophie read the correspondence on the first file, then started reading through the case itself, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She was excited about the walk-through this afternoon and wished there were someone she could talk to who shared her enthusiasm.
That person obviously wasn’t Violet, who had felt inclined to remind her that any interest she might have was strictly financial. And, of course, silent.

Forcing herself to focus, Sophie somehow managed to put all thoughts of her new venture aside while she read, made notes, and fielded phone calls, but by two thirty, she’d had enough. She changed into work clothes and turned off her office lights.

“Violet, I’m going to head over to River Road and get the place opened up as much as I can for Cameron.”

“I’ll close up if you’re not back by five or so,” Violet told her without looking up from her computer screen.

Sophie was almost out the door when Violet called to her.

“Good luck. I know how much this means to you. I hope the damage isn’t too terribly bad.”

“Thanks, Violet. I hope so, too.”

Sophie’s stomach churned with anxiety all the way to River Road. What if there was real structural damage? Or a roof that was totally rotted underneath? Or termites? Or … well, something else that she couldn’t think of right at that moment that would be equally disastrous? Why hadn’t she asked Cameron to go over the place before things had gone this far? Settlement was now less than a week away. Was it still possible to back out if he uncovered insurmountable problems? And even if he did, would she want to?

Even the beauty of the afternoon didn’t brighten her mood. Between leaving the office and arriving at the property, she’d thought of everything that could possibly go wrong today. But once she’d parked her
car and opened the building, all the negativity had melted away. This was her place; she knew it. It was meant to be hers. When she heard Cam’s truck, she eagerly walked outside to greet him and Ellie.

“Cool building.” Ellie jumped out of the passenger side with a smile on her face. “I love that it’s stone. There aren’t too many stone buildings in St. Dennis, so this is unique. I like it.”

“Thanks. So do I.” Sophie held the door open. “Come on in and take a look at the inside.”

“The outside looks great.” Cameron stopped for a moment and studied the façade. With a penknife he took from his pocket, he poked at the wooden windowsills. “Solid, no rot. Nice. Needs paint, some new windows. These aren’t very efficient and the screens are pretty much destroyed, but the rest of the place looks solid.” He walked around the front. “The mortar between the stones looks pretty tight. That’s a real plus. There might be a few places that could use a little touch-up, but for the most part, it’s looking pretty good.”

Sophie let out a deep breath.

“Let’s see what you think of the inside.” Sophie ushered them in. “I hope you remembered flashlights.”

“Biggest ones I could find.” He held up two huge lights.

“That should do it.” Leaving the front door open, Sophie showed them around. “This is obviously the dining room …”

Without comment, Cameron began his inspection, shining the light over every inch of the room before disappearing into the kitchen.

“This is his thing,” Ellie told Sophie. “If there are problems, he’ll find them. But while he’s doing that, show me what you have in mind here …”

Sophie went over her plans for the interior and the furniture, but hesitated when it came to décor.

“I still don’t know for sure what I want it to look like in here. I want it to reflect St. Dennis, but I don’t want kitschy-beachy.” She mentioned her idea of borrowing recipes from old St. Dennis families to include on the menu. “I’m trying to get Violet to cough up her mother’s lemon meringue pie recipe.”

“Oh, I have lots of recipes from my great-aunt Lilly,” Ellie told her. “Maybe you’d like to look through them, see if there’s something that you could use in the restaurant.”

“I’d love to do that. And I did think of asking my grandfather if my grandmother was known for anything in particular—you know, a dish that she always served.”

“Pound cake,” Ellie told her.

“What about it?”

“Rose Enright was known for her pound cakes. She made several flavors. Lemon, poppy seed, coconut …”

“How would you know that?”

“Lilly wrote about it in one of her journals. She and Violet and Rose had tea together once a week on Friday afternoons, alternating houses. Rose always made pound cake and Violet made pie. Lilly made chicken salad and chocolate soufflé.”

“And you have the recipes?”

“Of course.” Ellie grinned. “Lilly made notes on just about everything. She had a little notebook where she kept recipes that she borrowed from her friends.
On the front page, she wrote ‘The Blossoms Cook.’ How cute is that?”

“The Blossoms Cook,” Sophie repeated thoughtfully.

“Oh, and I have some photographs, like I promised. I left them in my bag. Be right back.” Ellie took off for the truck.

Cam came into the dining room.

“How’s it look so far?” Sophie asked anxiously.

“Better than I thought in some areas, not so great in others,” he told her. “Is there a key for the second floor? I want to check something up there, and then I’ll need to look at the attic.”

“I have the key.” Sophie handed it over.

“Thanks.” He started for the door.

“Cam, do you know anyone who does signs?” she asked.

“You mean, for here?”

She nodded.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I like the sign that’s out there. I like the size and the shape, but of course, I’ll be changing the name.”

He stepped outside and looked up. “You could reuse it. Just repaint it. What did you have in mind?”

Sophie took a piece of paper from a notebook in her bag and wrote the name she’d just decided on and handed it over to Cam.

“That’s it? That’s what you’re calling your place?”

“Yes. It just came to me.”

“I like it. Very nice.” He handed the slip back to her.

“I can do the lettering myself, but I need to have someone take the sign down for me.”

“I’ll do that before I leave today. It should only take a minute. Meanwhile,” he said, “there’s another floor to look over before we talk about what it’s going to take to make this a working restaurant again.”

Sophie heard his footsteps on the stairs, then overhead as he went from room to room. She took a deep breath and hoped the second floor didn’t need much. She planned on moving in as soon as it was livable. If she was paying the mortgage here, she didn’t want to be paying rent somewhere else for any longer than necessary.