Rocky Point Reunion (13 page)

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Authors: Barbara McMahon

BOOK: Rocky Point Reunion
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“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Betty smiled and nodded. “I can hold the fort. It's slow this time of year.”

“When will he be back?”

“I'm not sure. He just said expect him when I see him.”

Marcie returned to the café, wondering what was going on with her father. Time she cornered him and found out.

Closing her door when she reached her office, she went to sit at her desk, letting the full emotion of disappointment wash through her. Zack was leaving. Granted, she never thought he'd stay forever. But she was still floored by the revelation. Once back in Europe with all the exhilaration of racing, he'd stay.

Not that it would change things for her that much. Life would go on.

Just maybe in the secret places in her heart she'd hoped he'd remain in Rocky Point. Hoped that maybe, if she could garner the courage, they would have a second shot at a future together.

“Father, please remove foolish dreams from my mind. Let me focus on what I have and the blessings You have bestowed on me and forget what I want. Thy will be done,”
she prayed softly. When it felt as if a burden had been lifted, she plunged back into the work awaiting. Still thinking about Zack.

 

Zack returned to the garage and frowned at his brother. “You didn't have to blurt that out to Marcie. I was going to tell her.”

“I didn't realize it was a secret. When were you going to tell her? I never knew you two were seeing each other again.”

“We're not. Exactly.”

“Well, then what, exactly?”

“She's a lot more cautious than she used to be,” Zack said slowly.

“Do you blame her? Man, you still don't know how mean that was, the way you took off? Women set a lot of
store with weddings and marriage. And you blew it off as if it were a fishing date.”

“I called her, told her. I thought I'd come back for her. We would have been together. Only by the time I could afford that, she had her café and you said she was happy.”

“She is. Leave her alone, Zack. You're not staying.”

“Why does everyone say that? I am. At least if we go partners and I can find a place to live. Otherwise, I'll have to look around Monkesville for a home. But I'm not leaving.”

“Except in a couple of weeks.”

“That's an exception.”

“How many times will you make an exception?” Joe asked.

Zack stared at his brother, wondering if he were right. When Thomas had called, he'd felt the instant thrill that went with racing. Would he always be torn—family and stability against excitement and thrills?

“Looks to me as if you're not certain. Maybe you should pray about that.”

Zack turned away. That was the answer he'd get from Marcie, too. If she'd speak to him again. He went to the car they'd been working on, but didn't really see the engine. He didn't know if God would help him out. He'd sort of turned his back on his creator in the past. But this wasn't the past. If people he loved and respected thought the Lord would help him, maybe he should give it a shot. Slowly he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

Lord, it's me, Zack. I'm sorry for so much. How I've handled my life. How I'm still stumbling through. If You're listening, I'd appreciate it if You would consider helping me out.
He waited a moment after the silent prayer, but nothing happened. Had God heard?

Or was he too late?

Please, help Marcie to understand and forgive,
he added.

 

Marcie called her father after she got home from work.

“Hi, cupcake, what's up?” he asked.

Okay, enough was enough. “I came by the office today to see you, but you were in Portland.”

“Business. Betty said you'd been by. Did you come to visit or was there something else?”

“Zack's leaving,” she said in a rush. Then closed her eyes. That was not what she'd wanted to say.

“We knew he wouldn't stay,” he said gently.

“He keeps saying he's going to, but now he's leaving in a couple of weeks for another race.”

“Stay away from him, cupcake. He's already proved he's not for you.”

“You'd think I'd learned my lesson by now,” she said. “Did he call you about insuring a driving scheme he came up with?”

“Betty relayed the message. I didn't call back.”

“He's still talking about it. Said he was going to find an insurance agent in Monkesville.”

“It's a free country. When I think about it, a driving school is a good idea. Give the kids hands-on experience before they take to the road. I bet lots of folks would like to learn techniques from a winner like he's been. But the draw would be his presence. If he's off racing in Europe, not much scope here, I'd think.”

“If he pursues it, Dad, sell him the policy. Don't turn away from business because of what he did when still a kid.”

“Sounds like you're standing up for him.”

“Not really. But I'm trying to see things as they are now, not as they were. We were so young.”

“You're happy now, aren't you?” her father asked.

“Yes.” Just longing to be part of a couple. Longing for kids for a grandpa to spoil. “I'm fine. You are, too, aren't you?”

“Of course, why wouldn't I be?”

Marcie hung up, not reassured. She sat by the phone for a minute, then picked up to dial Zack. He answered.

“I thought Joe might answer,” she said when she heard his voice.

“He and Jenny are over at Gillian's rearranging furniture, deciding on which room Jenny will have after the wedding, what color to paint the walls. What's wrong with white walls?”

Marcie laughed. “Nothing, they're just boring. I called my dad and he seemed to think you could do well opening a driving school, with your racing wins and all. But only if you stayed.”

“Which I plan to do. But you know what? I'm not saying that anymore. I've told you and Joe until I'm almost hoarse. In ten or twenty years, maybe you'll believe me. So does that mean your dad would be interested in insuring such a venture?”

“Maybe. Give him another try. He was in Portland again today.” Marcie had enough trust to believe he was staying. Why couldn't she just take him at his word? It was fear of believing him and then being hurt again if he took off.

“Doing?”

“I don't know and he won't say. I'm worried.”

“Ask him,” Zack suggested.

“I have, and he says everything is fine. But I don't think so.”

Zack was quiet for a moment, then said, “If you like, I
could try to follow him the next time he goes, see where he's headed. He could have found someone, you know. Are you ready for that?”

“You mean a love interest?” Marcie hadn't thought about that. Her mother had died when Marcie was little. Since she'd moved into her own place five years ago, her father had lived completely alone. He was probably lonely. How
did
she feel about him getting married again?

“That's what I mean,” Zack said.

“I hadn't thought about it. I guess I'm okay with it, as long as the woman is as nice as my dad. He's probably been lonely since I moved out.” She hadn't thought about that before. Yet he usually seemed happy enough when she saw him.

“He's not all that old, either, mid-fifties,” Zack said.

“I know. I would be selfish if I stood in his way. I want him to be happy. But I don't know about your following him. First of all, I feel like that's spying. I shouldn't spy on my dad. Plus, if he sees you, he'll get that much more angry.”

“It was a suggestion, that's all.”

“Maybe this is just one of those life lessons about being patient. If nothing's wrong, I'm worried for nothing. And if there is something wrong, I'll have to be patient and wait for him to tell me.”

“Is he healthy?”

“I guess, why?'

“He looks thinner than I remember.”

“He's older now, too, Zack. You've been gone a long time,” she said gently.

“True.” He was silent for a few seconds, then asked, “Want to go for a walk?”

“Now?”

“It's not that late. We could walk up and down Main
Street and you can fill me in on what every shopkeeper's been doing since I was last here.”

Marcie thought about it for a moment. It was not even eight o'clock. And still warm from the day's heat. “Okay, sounds interesting.”

“I'll pick you up in about fifteen minutes.” He hung up and Marcie gently replaced the receiver.

She hurried to the bathroom to brush her hair and check her makeup. She should not be spending more time with Zack. Especially now that she knew he was leaving soon for the racing circuit again. Yet, maybe she should grab all the memories she could before he left. Would they have to last another ten years before she saw him?

Pausing in brushing her hair, she stared at herself in the mirror. Where would she be in another ten years? Would she meet someone to love, to marry and start a family with? Or would she still be running a café, catering memorial events and being lonely in the evenings?

Never alone, though, Lord, am I? Let me enjoy my blessings and not constantly long for other things. Show me the path You have for me and let me follow it joyfully.

Marcie picked up a light jacket and was ready when Zack knocked. Slinging it on, she went to open the door.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at her in that lazy, heart-stopping way he had.

“Hi.” She felt as flustered as she would on a first date. This was Zack. And this was not a date.

They went down the stairs and around to the front of the building, situated about midway down Main Street. The bakery was closed, of course, but the windows illuminated displays of breakfast rolls and luscious desserts.

“Martins still own the bakery,” she said.

“Did Sam go into business with his folks?” Zack asked.

“Nope, he's a vet in Portland. But his cousin Damon came a few years back and loves baking. He'll probably take over when the older Martins are ready to retire. He's nice. His wife sings in the choir.”

They slowly walked along the sidewalk away from the sea. The bakery sat almost in the center of town. By going to the end on this side, they could cross over, stroll along the other side to the sea, and then return on the first side to Marcie's apartment. Main Street ran east to west with one end terminating at the sea. The warehouse where Joe had his auto shop had once served as storage for the whaling ships that had plied the seas in the eighteen hundreds. The block beyond Marcie's place held the Johnsons' hardware store.

“You'd think Tate would want to take this on,” he said. “Safer than police work.”

“He loves being a cop. And his folks are not any older than my dad, still plenty of time for him to consider taking it on when they retire. But I think he'll stick with police work,” Marcie said. “He gave up Boston to return home when his father was so sick. But he didn't leave when he got better, which is good for Rocky Point.”

“Hmm. So he can return, but you doubt me?”

She looked up at him. “It's totally different. Was this stationery store here before?”

“No, this shop used to be Hanson's Tobacco Store.”

“Oh, yes. He moved away about eight years ago. Sales were really poor as fewer and fewer people are smoking. I can't remember where he went, but Stella Lewis owns it now and carries a range from business forms to lovely stationery.”

They crossed the side street and continued to the block where the café was situated.

“Tell me about getting the café,” Zack said.

“I went to work for the previous owner, remember Oscar Wentworth? With only a high school degree, I didn't have a lot of marketable skills.”

“Grumpy old man,” Zack murmured.

“He was. And stingy to boot. But he freely shared information about all sorts of aspects of the business—as long as I asked. And I did. I must have pestered him to bits, asking about everything from suppliers, to sanitation, to how to guestimate how many people would be here, to know how much to cook. After a year or so, he gradually increased my responsibilities until one day, out of the blue, he asked if I wanted to buy him out. He was planning to go to Florida and spend the rest of his days in warmth. I think it was just after a really bad nor'easter.”

“So you did, buy him out, right?”

“With some help from the bank, of course. That's where living in a small town helped me. Mr. Jarvis was willing to take a risk on me. And I'm happy to say, I've paid back the loan in full.”

“You must be doing very well. I hear that restaurants especially have a high failure rate.”

“Not when one is practically the only place to eat in town,” she said with a grin.

“Except for the sea shack.”

“But eating at a bar or at tables outside gets old. And their menu is very limited.”

“Do you want to expand?” he asked, studying the café for a moment. “You could take some room from the parking lot.”

“No, I have the patio for nice weather dining and the rest is a perfect size for the locals year round.”

They crossed the street and continued down the other side, Marcie feeling like a love-struck teenager all over again.

 

“We should have an ice cream,” Zack said, looking down toward the sea. When they'd been dating in high school, he remembered summer evenings when they'd walk up and down the street, commenting on displays, and eating ice cream.

“McFersner's moved. It's across from the barbershop now.” If Marcie remembered their former walks, she wasn't bringing them up.

“But still offer those humongous banana splits?”

“Of course. Where else would high school boys ever get their fill of ice cream?”

Marcie continued updating Zack as they passed the cleaners, and the old hotel that so many tourists stayed in because of its charm. The only bar in town she passed swiftly, loud music and smoke drifting out from the half-open door.

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