At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (40 page)

BOOK: At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries
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Cameron was waiting for her at the restaurant the next morning, a checklist in his hand. “I heard about Curtis,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

“He’s good. How’d you hear about it so fast?” Sophie unlocked the front door.

“Ellie saw Brooke picking up take-out from the Thai place last night.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ll tell him that you were asking for him.” She turned on the lights. “Thanks for putting the bulbs in so we can see what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, it was pretty dim in here.” He handed her an envelope. “Copies of all your permits, estimates, and my contract are in there. Take some time to look everything over and sign it when you get a chance. Ask if you have any questions. You don’t have to do it right now. I can see you’re antsy to get to work.”

“I just want it all done. Jesse gave me the next two weeks off to try to get ready to open, but I don’t know if even that’s going to be enough time.”

“You won’t need more than that. My guys will be in tomorrow and out by Thursday. You’ll have new windows, nice shiny floors, new bathrooms, and new lighting fixtures and ceiling fans. What’s the story with the appliances?”

“The guy who inspected the cooler and the refrigerator said they both need new compressors, which he can install on Tuesday. Said other than dust on the
coils, things looked pretty good. The stove is okay, just needed some cleaning out of a mouse nest in the oven and a lot of spiders around the burners. The exterminator got rid of everything that had been living in here for the past six years, so right now, I’m the sole occupant.”

“What else do you have to do?”

“I need to order some dishes and some utensils, get my final menu worked out, order supplies, and oh, yes. I’ll need to hire some people. Two waitresses to start, a dishwasher, another cook. Someone to help prep.”

“That going to be enough?”

“We’ll see. I don’t know that business will be all that brisk at first.”

“You might be surprised. A lot of people are talking about it.”

“Let’s hope they do more than talk.”

Cameron left with the promise to return in the morning with a crew to tackle the bathrooms and the new windows. Sophie put a drop cloth on the floor next to the largest wall and opened a can of paint. By four in the afternoon, the entire dining room had been freshly painted and Sophie was envisioning how the enlarged photos in their black frames would look against the pale yellow walls. She washed her brushes off in the deep stainless-steel sink in the kitchen and set them on the counter to dry. Then she walked down to the dock behind the trees and sat on the edge, dangling her feet in the water and watching the swans on the other side. She leaned her head back to catch the sun, and when her hair got too hot, she stood up.

“Break’s over.”

She made a call to Grace Sinclair to place ads in the paper for the employees she thought she’d need to start, and to set up an interview for Wednesday. The preopening publicity would be good to generate interest that, according to Cam, was already starting to build. She made a shopping list of items she’d need for the kitchen and her first week’s food requirements. She called Clay Madison and discussed the amount of eggs and produce he could supply. Then she called three other farmers and sketched out her first week’s menu.

She had almost finished with the lunch specials when she heard activity next door. She went to the window and looked out across the fence. For the first time, she noticed that the smelly piles had gotten smaller. How much smaller might they be by next week, she wondered. If Cameron’s crews were as good as he claimed they were, she could target Friday of the following week as her opening day.

Of course, by then, Jason would probably have had another delivery. The thought of a new pile of stinking mushroom soil a stone’s throw from her side window made her want to cry.

She stepped outside and walked around her building, taking note of the work she still had to do out there. Weeds to pull, volunteer saplings to be cut down, flowers to plant. She walked to the front and was considering how she’d manage to have something growing and blooming by the front door in a week, when a car pulled in behind hers. She turned to look just as a man in dark glasses hopped out of a black BMW.

“Hey! Sophie!” he called merrily.

Christopher?
She blinked.

“Chris?”

“How are you?” He put his arms out as if to hug her, and she took a few steps back.

“What are you doing here?” She ignored both his question and his attempt to touch her.

The thought of him touching her made her cringe.

“I came to see you, to talk to you. I’ve missed you. I can’t stop thinking about you.” He looked around, first at her restaurant, then at the lot next door. “They told me at that coffee place in town that you’d probably be out here. What’s with this place, anyway?” He looked around, obviously unimpressed. “You giving up a legal career to open a café? Here?”

“It’s really none of your business.” She took another step back. “I’m sorry you made the trip, sorry you felt compelled to see me. I can’t imagine what would have possessed you to come all the way out here without even calling. If you had called, I would have saved you from making the drive. I don’t want to see you, I don’t miss you, and I don’t want you here. Please go.”

“Sophie, let’s talk this out. We were good together …”

“No. In retrospect, we weren’t. If we’d been all that good, you wouldn’t have been sleeping with Anita. So I don’t have anything more to say to you. Please leave.”

“At least show me around your new place.” He pointed to the restaurant with no real interest.

“No, Chris, I really, really want you to go.”

“Look, Sophie, just give me a chance …”

Sophie studied his face and the desperate sound of his voice. A gleeful expression spread across her face.

“She dumped you, didn’t she?”

“What? No. Of course not,” Christopher protested. “I just got to thinking …”

“Anita dumped you and you thought you could sweet-talk me into taking you back.”

“Look, Sophie, we had a good thing …”

“Which you screwed up by screwing around. But I don’t hold a grudge. Actually, I should thank you. This”—she pointed to the building behind her—“is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“So does that mean …?”

“It means I want you to leave. Now, Chris.”

“If we could just sit and talk for a few minutes, if you could let me apologize again. I’ll do anything …”

“Buddy, are you deaf, or are you just stupid?” Jason walked around the fence.

Chris frowned. “Who’s that?” he asked Sophie.

Jason put an arm around Sophie. “Want me to pick him up and toss him into the mulch, babe?”

“That would be nice.” She nodded calmly. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Chris looked from Sophie to Jason and back again.

“Seriously, Sophie? You and this … goon …?”

Sophie smiled. “He may be a goon, but he’s my goon.”

“You couldn’t seriously prefer …” Chris pointed to Jason as if he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Any day of the week, Chris,” Sophie assured him.

Chris looked momentarily stunned. “If that’s what you want …”

“It’s exactly what I want.”

Chris shook his head and backed toward his car as if afraid to turn his back on Jason. He got in, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot.

“Thanks,” Sophie said. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of him.”

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” Jason told her. “But I was right there on the other side of the fence, and it sounded like he was getting pushy, and not in a good way.”

“He was. I’m glad you stepped in.”

“Who
was
that guy?” Jason asked.

“My ex.”

“Pardon me for saying this, but he seemed like an asshole.”

“He is.”

There was silence for a long moment.

Later, Sophie tried to remember who laughed first. All she could recall was that one minute they were staring at each other, the next, laughing their heads off.

“Sorry about the goon thing.” She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t.

“I’ve been called worse.”

They watched the black sedan speed down River Road and blow the stop sign. Seconds later, they heard the
whoop-whoop-whoop
of the police siren.

“Oh, my God, that’s so perfect!” Sophie dissolved into new peals of laughter.

“Is gloating appropriate right about now?” Jason asked.

“Totally.” She laughed so hard she began to hiccough. “I hope Beck throws the book at him.”

“Speeding in a thirty-five-mile-an-hour zone plus ignoring a stop sign should equal a hefty fine,” Jason pointed out.

“Good. That’s what he gets for just showing up here out of the blue like that.” Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“You really had no clue? He hasn’t called?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since that night of Logan’s science fair.” She sobered. “He called to give me some bad news on a case he knew I cared a lot about, then used that as an opportunity to apologize for his extremely bad behavior.”

“Am I allowed to ask what he did?”

“Caught him doing the deed with a co-worker.” Sophie paused, then added, “In the backseat of that very car, by the way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I meant it when I told him that breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She watched his face and could tell he thought she was rationalizing. “If I’d stayed in Ohio, I’d never have gotten this.” She pointed to the building, then remembered his interest in it. “Sorry. You’re probably wishing I hadn’t …”

“I’m okay with it now.”

“Really?”

“I wanted to tell you that before you open here, I’ll have gone through all the mulch. Next delivery, I’ll have it dumped over on the other side of the lot and down closer to the river. I’m having some trees cleared off tomorrow to make room.” He added, “I skipped the mushroom soil this time around.”

“What about your shop? Your retail shop?”

“I’ll think of something else.”

She watched his eyes watching her, and she couldn’t resist. “Want to come in and see what we’re doing?”

“I’d love to.” He followed her inside and she closed the door. “I’ve never seen the inside.”

He looked around the dining room. “Not too big, not too small. Manageable, I’d think.”

“I hope so.”

“You still planning on working here and with Jess?”

She nodded. “He gave me two weeks off, though. At the insistence of our grandfather, but still.”

“Nice of him. What are you calling it, by the way?” His gesture encompassed the building.

“Blossoms.” Sophie smiled. “That’s what they used to call my grandmother Rose, Ellie’s great-aunt Lilly, and Violet.”

“Nice tribute. It suits.” He smiled. “I wish you all the luck, Sophie. I hope your place is a huge success.”

“Thanks. I hope you mean that.”

“I do.” He started toward the door. “Thanks, by the way, for the phone call last night. I appreciate that you thought to call me.”

“Of course.”

“And he’s all right? Curtis?”

“He seems to be. He is one tough old bird.”

“True enough. Well …” He was at the door, his hand on the knob.

She had the sudden feeling that if he left, he’d never be back, and the thought made her panic. If there was ever a chance for them, she had to make it happen now.

“What movie did you see?” She took a step in his direction.

“What?” He paused in the doorway.

“The movie you and Logan saw last night. What was it?” She took another step.

“Oh, some animated car thing. Logan’s into animation.”

“Sorry I missed it.” Another step closer.

“Maybe next time.”

“When?”

“When what?” He appeared momentarily puzzled.

“When’s the next time?”

“When would you like it to be?” He stepped forward to meet her halfway.

“Now. Right now.” She opened her arms and he pulled her close, nuzzled the side of her face, then kissed her hungrily.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured.

“Me, too,” she said between kisses. “I wanted to tell you that I was sorry that I got pissy, sorry that I yelled at your guy in the truck, sorry that I hadn’t told you sooner that this was the place …”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t a more gracious loser. Sorry that I tried to make you feel guilty about having bought this place. Sorry that I dumped mulch so close to your property.”

“I’m sorry that …”

He placed a finger over her lips.

“We’re done being sorry,” he told her. “Let’s let it go.”

“I was so afraid we were over.” She rested her head on his chest. “I didn’t want us to be over.”

“We’re not over,” he whispered. “We’re not over, Sophie …”

“Let’s lock up.” She pulled away from him.

“Your place or mine?”

“Your place this time.” She was smiling as she turned off the lights and grabbed her keys from the table where she’d tossed them earlier.

“We’re not over,” she repeated aloud while she drove to his house on Doyle Street. There was still a chance they could find the magic again, and maybe even make it last.

On Monday night, back at Sophie’s, just before she fell asleep, she heard Jason whisper, “Just want you to know that sometimes I have nightmares. They can be disconcerting, I would think, if you’re not aware that it happens.”

“Same nightmare?” She twisted slightly to look up into his face.

“Pretty much.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

He fell silent, and she thought he’d decided against sharing that part of himself, which was okay as far as she was concerned. When—if—he was ready, he’d talk about it.

“You know my parents died in a car accident,” he said long after she’d assumed he’d fallen asleep.

“I remember you said that, yes.”

“Did I mention that the accident was my fault?”

“You were driving?”

“No, my dad was.”

“Then how was it your fault?”

“I sneaked out one night after my parents were
asleep, took my dad’s car, and picked up a few of my buddies and went joyriding. I’d just dropped off the last of the guys and was headed home, thinking how clever I was to have gotten away with it, when I got pulled over because one of the headlights was out. When the cop realized that I was under age and had no license, he took me into the station and called my parents to come pick me up. By this time it was almost five in the morning. They got Eric out of bed to drive them to get me.”

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