Fortunate Harbor (40 page)

She spotted Bay, but it took a moment for him to see her. She’d expected to grab him as he ran past, pursued or in pursuit, and she hadn’t expected much of a welcome, considering the competition.

Instead he ran full tilt toward her, and when she held out her arms, he threw his compact body into them, hugged her hard and didn’t let go.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his sweaty hair. “Well, buddy, happy, happy birthday. I brought you a present. I’ll put it inside.”

“You’re going to stay?” He looked up, and his eyes shone like bright pennies. “You came to help my dad?”

She didn’t know what to say. Everything the kid was feeling was right there in his eyes. Hope, despair, understanding, anger. And what could she do about any of it?

She lifted her gaze to the porch and realized Marsh was standing there—instincts honed, she supposed, to protect his son from yet another untrustworthy, marauding female with no maternal instinct. His expression was veiled, but he gave the briefest of nods.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked Bay, turning her attention back to the birthday boy. “Because I know a couple of games you guys will love when everybody settles down.”

“Will you? Please?”

She ruffled his hair, longer than it had been at the beginning of summer. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Then she ruffled it again. “Darn right. That’s exactly why I came, kiddo.”

She took a minute to call Henrietta and give her regrets. Henrietta told her to come tomorrow, but the older woman promised there would be other parties if Tracy couldn’t make this one.

Tracy avoided Marsh, but definitely not Bay. She organized
an impromptu egg toss and a pillowcase sack race. After they’d eaten and calmed down a little, she taught the boys to play Killer, and watched them die in helpless, hysterical agony whenever the secret “killer” caught their eye and winked at them. She took her turn at Guitar Hero and wowed everybody but Bay, who was better than just about anybody in the world.

As the afternoon wound to a close, she cleaned up, removing plates and glasses, starting the dishwasher at one point, because, of course, no party at the Egan house would include anything as heinous as paper products. She helped serve gargantuan slices of cake and dished up mounds of ice cream.

The boys left one by one, full, happy, still talking about their rides in the Egan canoe. They’d spotted a garter snake, climbed one of the live oaks, jumped on a rental trampoline. Tracy knew that future parties would include girls, and the entertainment would be substantially different. She was glad she’d been around for this one.

When just a few boys were left, Marsh came into the kitchen, where she was unloading the dishwasher.

He deposited an armful of dessert plates in the sink. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“Really? I am
so
not going to, then.” Despite her words, she kept going.

“What’s this about anyway?”

“My best guess? A clean kitchen.”

“We didn’t expect you.”

“Duh. You didn’t invite me.”

“Don’t leave before we talk.” He sounded serious.

She had every intention of leaving the moment Bay, who had already told her he was going to Adam’s for the night, did.

She was alone in the kitchen again and had loaded the dish
washer again when Bay dashed into the room, his rubber-soled tennis shoes making horrifying screeching noises on the wood floor.

“I’m going!”

“You have a good birthday, buddy?” she asked.

He wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug. Then he was off again.

She sighed and took her impromptu apron—a terry cloth dish towel—out of the waistband of her capris. She’d just gotten her cue to head out.

“No you don’t,” Marsh said from behind her.

She didn’t turn. “I’m supposed to be at a house party in Palm Beach.”

“It’s too late for a drive like that.”

“I can do it.”

“Please stay.”

“You can’t do the rest of the cleanup alone?”

He rested his hands on her shoulders. She jumped, not expecting it.

“
Please
stay,” he repeated.

She sighed. “Maybe for a few minutes.”

After he left the room again she finished cleaning up, and when she heard the final toot as Adam and Bay drove away, she went to find Marsh. He was standing on the steps watching Adam’s parents’ car turn onto the road. The old house seemed to sigh in relief.

“It was quite some party,” she said.

“You made it better.”

“I really didn’t intend to stay.” She paused. “He wanted me to.”

“Of course he did. He adores you.” He paused, then said, “What kind of party was waiting in Palm Beach?”

“Nothing that couldn’t wait a little longer.”

“I have a good bottle of Syrah, and I don’t know about you, but I need a glass. Want to sit on the porch swing?” He gestured to the screened-in portion of the front porch.

She thought about other evenings in that swing, when they’d struggled to be mature and finish business before they gave in to temptation.

“Just one,” she said.

She sat and waited while he went to get it, swinging and listening to the first murmurs of evening. Marsh returned with a plate of cheese and fresh fruit, boiled shrimp and pâté.

“You mean the boys didn’t eat this?”

“I figured if I survived this party, I’d deserve a little treat.”

She waited to see where he would sit, but she wasn’t surprised when he joined her in the swing.

“So I guess you know Sylvia’s on her way to California.”

“Will she get the job?”

“It looks good. If she does, Bay’s old enough to fly out there by himself and visit her. She claims she’ll take time off so he can.”

“San Diego’s a lovely city.”

“You seem to know a lot.”

“I am a fountain of information.” She turned a little, reaching for a shrimp, as cover. “So, will you miss her?”

He lifted one brow. “What do you think?”

“I think you ought to answer a question before you ask one.”

“Let’s just say that I had to restrain myself from doing the happy dance when she told me she was finally heading out. Even though I feel badly for my son.”

She’d needed to hear that. She pictured a clamp on her heart that had just been released. Everything seemed to be
flowing again, just the way it was supposed to. “You weren’t falling back in love with her?”

“Tracy…” He shook his head. “That’s so far from the truth it’s almost funny.”

“It wasn’t funny to me.”

He removed the wineglass from her hand and linked his fingers with hers. “I know. I had no idea how to fix that. I wanted to. More than I can say. You don’t know how many nights I sat right here and tried to figure it out.”

“Is that why you sent me that note? The one that asked me not to give up on us. So it would fix things?”

He didn’t answer.

“I just found it today, Marsh. I never opened the booklet you left me until this morning.” But the note was home in her jewelry box now, a precious possession.

“Funny how things like that happen, isn’t it? Almost makes you think we’re in somebody’s crosshairs.”

“But there was Bay.”

“There was. He’s going to be all right, I think. He’ll always love his mother, but now he realizes who she is. It’s an important distinction.”

“We’re holding hands.”

“We are. So while I’m holding you prisoner, tell me about CJ.”

She did, leaving Dana and Pete out of the equation.

“And how did Dana fit in?” he asked when she’d finished, not one bit fooled.

“In a way I can never talk about.”

“So CJ’s gone for good. And you didn’t have even the slightest desire to reclaim that fancy life you had with him?”

“I want a life with CJ the way I want an abscessed tooth, Marsh.”

“I hear he’s a smooth guy. Charming. Sophisticated. All the things I’m not.”

She was surprised at the admission. He was a supremely confident man, but clearly he had his vulnerabilities. “You know, I’ve noticed that. I have this chart in my bedroom. You and CJ. Oh, and George Clooney. Check marks, the whole nine yards. You’ll have to come and see it.”

“In your bedroom?”

“Right above my bed.”

“I’ve never gotten that far into the inner sanctum.”

“You know who gets the biggest mark for charm?”

“Tell me.”

“This redneck environmentalist who lives down the road. Here’s what I find charming. He does what he has to, even when it’s not fun. And sometimes he gives up what he really wants, so he can help this crazy little boy. He’s not very good at explaining himself, which is a mark against him. But in the end, it’s all pretty clear.”

“Sounds like quite a guy.”

“I think so.”

“This house is going to seem awfully lonely tonight, what with Bay gone for the evening and Sylvia gone for good.”

“Is it now?” She rested her free hand on his shoulder. “It’s possible you might need company. You know, somebody to fill the gap.”

“It’s possible.”

“And if I stay, just to help, can we draw all the shades and bar the doors? Just in case somebody from the past comes prowling around again?”

“We can, but speaking for myself, from now on, I plan to be way too busy to notice anybody but you.”

She smiled, and she supposed that, against her better judgment, everything she felt was right there in her eyes. “You can speak for me, too.”

“I’d rather just quit speaking altogether.”

“You have the best ideas,” she said, just before she kissed him.

“Three whole months I been open.” Wanda looked around Wanda’s Wonderful Pies, which was closed for the evening, and shook her head slowly, as though she couldn’t believe it. “How many pies have gone through here, do you suppose?”

“You didn’t keep track?” Tracy asked.

“Dana did that for me. It’s here somewhere in the paperwork she left behind. Whoever takes her place can find it.”

Janya was slicing an apple-cranberry pie with brown sugar topping. “Have you finished the interviews?”

“I’ve got a couple good possibilities. I’ll have somebody helping me serve and bake by next week. I got to. You all can’t keep coming in and pretending you’re here to buy pie, when you’re really just keeping the place going.”

Tracy tried to look innocent and smile, but that was exactly what they had been doing in the weeks since Dana had driven away in Pete’s SUV. Stopping by on a regular rotation, washing dishes, pretending they had to practice making piecrusts,
chopping apples and peaches, squeezing an endless number of limes and lemons, and tasting and critiquing Wanda’s newest creations. Nobody had really expected to fool her.

“You’re doing a lot of that smiling thing these days, Ms. Deloche,” Wanda said. “The Cheshire cat has nothing on you.”

“Something finally went right this summer.” Tracy looked up from setting the tables they’d pulled side to side so they could all sit together. They had brought in pasta and salad from the Tuscan restaurant that had been CJ’s only useful legacy, and would top it off with pie. They were having their own private anniversary party to celebrate Wanda’s first successful quarter. Wanda’s Wonderful Pies was holding its own, and in the present economy, that meant she was a winner.

“You and Marsh really going away this weekend?”

“Just the two of us. Bay’s going to SeaWorld with Adam’s family.”

“Where are you going?” Janya asked.

“A romantic little hotel on the beach somewhere. Marsh said he’d surprise me. Which means a shack on stilts out in the water, with dolphins and sharks swimming right underneath us. Or alligators.”

Wanda shook her head in disbelief. “You and that tree hugger. I wasn’t sure you’d ever get it on, you being so different and all.”

Tracy really couldn’t stop smiling. Life
was
filled with surprises, and some of them were good ones.

Somebody tapped on the door, and Wanda went over to let in Alice and Olivia. “Well, lookie who’s here!”

Alice held up a bottle of champagne. “A celebration.”

“We got pop in the back for you, Olivia,” Wanda said, taking and admiring the bottle.

“I wish Lizzie was here,” Olivia said, shrugging out of her backpack.

“Don’t we all.”

Tracy knew Olivia was saddest that Lizzie and Dana were gone. One minute she’d had a best friend, the next, Lizzie had disappeared without so much as a real goodbye. But Olivia had too many other friends to be lonely for long. At the end of youth camp she had been voted Most Congenial Camper. Olivia, like Lizzie, was a survivor.

“I’ll just pop the cork,” Wanda said, taking the champagne into the kitchen.

“Quick,” Tracy said in a loud whisper to Olivia. “You have the present?”

Olivia’s eyes were shining. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in gold foil, with a copper-colored ribbon and bow.

“Ooh, pretty,” Tracy whispered. “Did you do this?”

Olivia nodded. “Janya helped.”

“You two are an artistic team.”

Olivia’s gaze darted to Janya. “She wasn’t feeling very good.”

Tracy turned hopefully to her friend. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Not what you are thinking.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need. We are young, and the doctor is optimistic. In the meantime, I am enjoying my time alone with Rishi, who comes home early every night.”

Wanda came out of the kitchen with the champagne and exclaimed at the gift. “Now, that’s something special, I bet.”

Alice held it out. “Go ahead and open it.”

Wanda handed Tracy the champagne. “I don’t have any fancy glasses here, but water tumblers will do.”

Olivia scurried behind the counter to get some, and Tracy poured as Wanda picked endlessly at the ribbon.

“For Pete’s sake, can’t you just slide it off?” Tracy asked.

“I don’t see any Pete in these parts. Not anymore.”

“I think it’s weird he left when Lizzie and Dana did,” Olivia said.

“An odd coincidence,” Tracy agreed.

Wanda finally managed to get the ribbon undone. She tore off the paper and lifted the top from the box. Inside was a pie server with an ornate Waterford crystal handle.
Wanda’s Wonderful Pies
was engraved on the blade in flowing script.

Wanda clutched it to her chest. “It’s fabulous. Like something out of Graceland.”

“
Ire
land,” Tracy said. “Close enough.”

“It’s too pretty to get chipped serving up pie all day.”

“Maybe here, but not at home when we come for dinner.”

“That’s where it’ll live, then.” Wanda looked genuinely pleased. “Thank you.”

Everybody hugged her in turn, and afterward Tracy passed around the champagne.

“Just one more thing,” Wanda said, “before we toast. I got something in the mail today that we can toast, too.”

She put her glass down, but Tracy noticed she didn’t relinquish the pie server. She went behind the counter and came back waving a postcard in the air.

“Who is it from?” Janya asked.

“First,
where
. From Seattle. This funny-looking thing on the front? That’s the Space Needle.”

“And—it—says!” Tracy demanded.

“Not a lot, as a matter of fact,” Wanda said. “But just enough. I’ll read it to you.” Wanda made a point of pulling her glasses lower on her nose and moving the postcard exactly the right distance away. Then she cleared her throat.

“
We’re
having fun. Wish you were here.”

Wanda looked up from the card. “Pete.”

A moment of silence followed as everybody processed that. Then Tracy lifted her glass. “To Wanda,” she said. “And many more pies in the future.”

“And to Pete, Dana and Lizzie,” Wanda added. “May they always be happy.”

Tracy silently added, “And safe.”

All the women lifted their glasses, even Olivia.

“So you think they left together? Do you think they’ll come back?” the girl asked after everybody had taken a sip. “If Dana and Lizzie are with Pete, maybe they’ll all come back and live here again.”

Tracy knew honesty was best. “I don’t think so, honey, but maybe someday Lizzie will write you.”

Wanda finally relinquished her new gift and set it carefully back in the box. “You know, that does bring up a good point, Ms. Deloche.”

“And that is?”

Wanda cocked a brow in question. “You got an empty house now. Just who are you going to rent to next?”