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Authors: Barbara McMahon

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“Uncle Zack,” Jenny called. “Come and help us.”

Marcie sighed softly. It seemed as if everything was against her today. She kept her gaze firmly on the girls from Jenny's class.

“What's going on?” Zack asked as he joined them.

“We want to go swimming, but the water's too cold,” Jenny said.

“Can you think up a way so we stay warm while swimming?” another little girl asked.

Marcie smiled and shook her head. “There is no way, sweetie. You'll all just need to wait a few more weeks and it'll be closer to swimming weather.”

“But we want to go today!”

Zack gave the girl a sympathetic smile. “Marcie's right. The water's too cold. How about you find something else
to do by the water, but not in it. Like, who can throw a stick the farthest,” he suggested, remembering back when he'd been their age and his father had coaxed Joe and him to try that, rather than risk hypothermia by going into the water.

“We don't have any sticks,” one girl said.

He looked up to the high-water line on the sand. “I bet you can find them. Tell you what, I'll judge the distance if you each bring five sticks.”

With a shout the girls dashed up the beach toward the high-water mark.

Marcie looked at him. “You handled that nicely.” With a smile she turned and walked toward the tables of food.

He started to follow when Jenny ran back, clutching an assortment of sticks.

Giving in to his niece, he knew he'd have to exercise more patience than he wanted, and waited for the other girls to return. In addition to making things right with Marcie, he wanted to know his niece better. He was practically a stranger to her. It was his own fault, but he was back to make amends.

As the afternoon wore on, Zack became more and more frustrated. Every time he approached Marcie, she'd find something to do or someone to talk to that excluded him. She and one woman seemed to spend a lot of time together. She looked familiar, probably a friend from high school. The name would come to him. In the meantime he talked to other old friends, listened to Pastor John's pitch about attending church again and played a couple of games of beach volleyball to expend some of the frustration that was building.

At one point he conceded that she had every right to make his penance harder by not cooperating. But he was determined. Sooner or later she'd have to talk with him.
And then he hoped he could make her understand why he'd acted liked a dumb kid.

Zack and Tom Daggle, the town's mayor, were reminiscing when he heard his name spoken.

“Zack Kincaid?”

He turned to the teenager who'd walked up to them. He'd seen the boy earlier, a loner standing on the periphery of the crowd, never fully involved. Yet watching everyone as if not to miss a thing. “That's right.”

“I'm Sean O'Connell.” The boy held out his hand, looking nervous. He glanced at the mayor and nodded.

Zack shook it and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Sean.”

“I heard you're a race car driver.”

“Right again.”

“Grand prix,” Tom said. “Bringing fame to Rocky Point.”

“Hardly,” Zack said, amused. He was well-known on the grand prix circuit, having been in the winner's circle more times than not over the past few years. But grand prix racing wasn't as popular or as well-known in the States as in Europe.

“Better channeled that way than killing yourself or someone out on Ocean Side Avenue. Remember how much you liked driving fast? It was a miracle you didn't have a drawer full of speeding tickets,” Tom said with a chuckle. “Do you remember you, me and Tate—?” The mayor looked at the teenager and changed his thought. “Not that we want anyone speeding around here these days.”

Zack nodded in understanding. Not the thing to talk up around others, but he remembered racing down those three miles of straight road with Marcie cheering from the side. She'd been so supportive of his need for speed. Would she have waited if he'd asked her to? Instead, he'd broken off entirely with her to follow his dream. Not thinking at the time he was also shattering hers.

“Hey, man, you never crashed. Still haven't, have you?” Tom asked.

“You want to drive grand prix?” Zack asked.

“NASCAR, but I bet the techniques are similar,” Sean said, with a wary look at the mayor.

“Probably. I could tell you a few things, I guess.”

Sean looked around. “Not here. I know this isn't the place. But I heard you were in town and thought if I didn't ask you now, I might never run into you.”

“I'm staying at Joe's place. His phone number's in the book. Give me a call,” Zack said.

“Thanks.” The teenager nodded again and walked away.

The two men watched him as he headed for the dunes and the parking lot.

“He's had a rough life,” Tom said. “His dad left his mother—she's Earline Russell, Earline O'Connell now. She came back home to be with her folks and then her dad died. So it's Earline and her mother raising the boy.”

“His father doesn't visit?”

“Disappeared. No one knows where he is. And he's not helping out financially. Watch Sean, though. He can be trouble.”

Zack shrugged. “Can't be any worse than we were back when we were kids.”

Tom laughed. “Good thing the fine folks in Rocky Point don't know all about that or I'd never have been elected mayor.”

Zack glanced around casually and didn't see Marcie. He excused himself from the mayor and went to the table that held the drinks. Taking another can of soda, he looked around again. She was not on the beach. She must have left when he'd been talking with Tom. He took a long drink of
the cold soda and realized all his interest in the picnic had fled.

They still needed to talk. Now the question was where and when. He wanted to convince her he was sorry.

And maybe see if there was anything left between them.

Chapter Two

M
arcie stepped out of the bank and paused on the sidewalk, taking a moment to enjoy the beautiful June morning. The receipts from the weekend had been safely deposited. The lunch rush would not start for a couple of hours and she was free until then. Glancing at the colorful flowers spilling from the pots hanging from the old-fashioned wrought-iron lampposts, she smiled, happy in the day. She loved spring and summer the most. Maine weather was usually gorgeous in these seasons and she spent as much time outside as she could. The town looked its best at the beginning of summer, when visitors flooded the town, taking in the beautiful scenery, the boating and walks along the coast. And boosting her earnings at the café.

As she turned to head toward the café, she noticed Zack Kincaid across the road, talking with the sheriff. He hadn't seen her and it gave her a few minutes to study him as she'd been afraid to do at the picnic. How often had she wished things had turned out differently? Maturity gave her insight she'd lacked as a nineteen-year-old. Zack would never have been satisfied living in Rocky Point. He'd always wanted to travel, to see the world. To race. While she'd wanted a
cottage by the sea with a white picket fence. How had they ever thought they'd have a chance at a long, happy marriage?

“Hello, Marcie, dear,” Caroline Evans said as Marcie took a step and almost ran into the older woman.

She stopped abruptly and smiled at her older neighbor. “Hello, Caroline. Lovely day, isn't it?” She deliberately kept her back to the men across the street, hoping this conversation would be short and she could escape before Zack took it into his head to try to talk to her. After thinking about him nonstop since the picnic, she didn't trust herself around him just yet. She needed to gain some perspective, and not wonder if he still laughed at the same things she did. If he still liked pork barbecue more than anything else. If he could still stir feelings and longings she so wanted to ignore. Really, he'd said all she needed to hear at the beach yesterday.

“You looked deep in thought,” Caroline commented. Glancing at the bank, she frowned. “Not money troubles, I hope.”

“What? Oh, no, I just deposited the money from the weekend. Things are going very well.” In that regard, at least.

“Hmm.” Just then Caroline looked across the street. “Oh, dear,” she murmured, looking back at Marcie with sympathy in her eyes.

“It's okay, it was a long time ago,” Marcie said gently, hoping to forestall any expression of sympathy. Obviously Mrs. Evans hadn't heard of their meeting at the picnic. Marcie had had enough gossip and speculation ten years ago. Maybe the rumor mill would be more merciful this time.

“I have to get back to work. Have a great day, Caroline.”

“You, too, dear. Don't let the past mar the present.”

Marcie smiled and nodded. Good advice. She'd grieved enough over that lost love. She'd cried half an ocean when he'd left. Then she'd mopped up her tears, decided God had a different plan for her and she'd given herself over to whatever He decreed. The past decade had proved a blessing. She owned and operated her own restaurant, had moved out of her dad's home to a place of her own and had developed a strong network of friends.

Father God, you know how hard I've worked. Please let any meeting between us go smoothly. Don't let him wreak havoc with me again. I so need Your peace and a little strengthening, Lord
, she prayed as she walked along the sidewalk.

Her office was just off the kitchen, where she could easily keep an eye on things, jump in to help if needed or close the door and be alone. The Cabot sisters were busy switching from late breakfast orders to early lunch requests as Marcie gave a wave and continued to her desk.

Another blessing. The two older women, renowned for their cooking, had joined her nine years ago as cooks, and the excellent offerings from the kitchen, like their famous blueberry pie, rich and chunky potpies and corn beef dinners, kept locals and tourists coming day after day.

She ought to keep track of all her blessings, so numerous they should have crowded out the pain of Zack's leaving.

“Boss, we've got a problem with scheduling,” Jessica said from the doorway.

Marcie turned from her computer and frowned as one of her longtime waitresses stepped into the office. Her uniform was an old-fashioned blue gingham dress with crisp white pinafore apron that added to the ambiance of the restaurant. Rocky Point had sent ships and sailors to the War
for Independence, and some of the older structures in town dated prior to 1776. Marcie knew how to sell what tourists liked, and the old-fashioned atmosphere of the place suited both her and all the customers she could handle.

“And that would be what?” she asked, hoping for a major crisis to get her mind off Zack Kincaid.

“That new kid. He doesn't want to work Saturdays. He has other things to do, he says.”

“I'll speak to him,” Marcie said. “Ask him to see me, would you?”

“Thanks. He, um, is also a bit slow in doing things.”

“Shirking?”

Jessica shrugged. She was not one to talk about other employees, so Marcie knew it was a bigger deal than Jessica was letting on if she'd seen fit to talk to her.

She needed something to get her mind off a certain man and back on track. Zack would be gone again soon and her peace would be restored.

The conversation didn't go as well as Marcie had hoped. He listened to her, but showed no emotion, and got up when she was finished and said he'd see what he could do. Not a ringing promise to do better in the future.

 

Midafternoon, Marcie was ready for a break. There was a lull in the customer traffic. One of the Cabot sisters had taken off and would return later. It was the perfect time to dash home and do a load of laundry.

“Auntie Marcie?” Jenny came rushing into her office, a big smile on her face.

“Hi, Jenny, what's up?” Marcie came from behind her desk to give the little girl a hug. Technically she was not Jenny's aunt. The marriage to her uncle Zack that would have cemented that relationship had not taken place. But Joe had insisted she be called aunt, as she was practically
a member of the family. She liked to think she'd stepped up when Pamela had died and done all a real aunt would have done with Jenny. They spent a lot of time together. Now seven, Jenny was allowed to visit the restaurant on her own, as long as her father was in town. Or for now, her uncle.

“Uncle Zack said I could get a sundae. I'd like a chocolate fudge one, but only if you eat with me. Wasn't the picnic fun?”

“It was fun. Tell you what, I'm about to head for home to do some chores. We'll take the fixings and make our own deluxe hot fudge sundaes.”

“I have my bike. I can ride to your place.”

“Or walk over with me,” Marcie suggested. “Check with your uncle to make sure that is all right. When we come back here later, your bike will be waiting.” That way, Jenny could meet Zack out in front of the café and Marcie wouldn't have to see him.

Jenny had blossomed the past few months. Her mother had died in a car crash in which Jenny had been badly injured. Fortunately she'd been too young to remember it. Joe had been a very protective father until his elderly next-door neighbor died and her great-granddaughter showed up. Gillian joining the family was going to be a very good thing for Jenny. God would be at the center of Joe and Gillian's marriage and Marcie knew that gave it the best shot possible.

“My dad and Gillian called last night. They've sorted through all of Gillian's things and packed the rental truck. Daddy said they're going to clean the apartment really good today so they get back the 'posit and then come home. Did you know it will take days and days to drive home? I want to look at dresses.”

Marcie smiled. “
Deposit,
Jenny. I did know it would
take days to drive back here. I think they want to see some of the sights along the way, as well. And we can look at dresses online while we eat our sundaes if you like,” Marcie said.

She'd clicked with Gillian as soon as the woman had come to town and couldn't wait for her new friend to return. She'd been asked to cater the wedding—and be a part of the bridal party. The big event would be the weekend after Labor Day, plenty of time for the plans to be finalized. She wanted the best for her new friend. In the meantime, Jenny had been given the task of picking out the bridesmaids' dresses. As a result she and Marcie had been poring over different ones on the internet. Jenny was thrilled to be the flower girl and loved to talk about the wedding.

“Why don't you call your uncle and make sure it's okay to go to my place,” Marcie said, proud of the steadiness of her voice when mentioning Zack. She could do this!

Ten minutes later Marcie unlocked the door to the small apartment over the bakery. She'd rented it five years ago when she'd decided twenty-four was too old to be living at home. Actually, she'd decided that long before that year, but it had taken all her money to get her restaurant going. Finally able to afford this small apartment, she'd moved in and spent the past five years fixing it up to suit her. She had a view of Main Street, the aroma of fresh baked goods to awaken her and plenty of privacy when she wanted it.

Jenny carried the carton of ice cream, nuts, fudge and cherries they'd acquired from Marcie's café directly to the small kitchen that opened to the living space. Marcie quickly scooped the ice cream while the fudge heated in the microwave. Then she and Jenny heaped the delicious chocolate on the ice cream and dusted it with nuts.

“I'll put the cherries on,” Jenny said, already dipping
her fingers in the jar to pull out several. They had long ago decided one cherry was not enough.

Taking their concoctions to the small dining table, they began to eat.

“School will be over in three more days,” Jenny said. “I wish they'd let us out before Memorial Day. We aren't learning anything anymore.”

“Hey, kiddo, you can learn something new every day. What are you doing all day if not learning?”

“We're playing games.” Jenny took a bite and let the ice cream slowly melt, then tilted her head. “But we have to use subtraction to solve some of the puzzles, or know the spelling of words to play Scrabble.”

“Sounds like your teacher is applying all you learned this year while you have fun with the games,” Marcie said.

Jenny's eyes grew wide.

“Are you winning games?” Marcie asked, smiling at Jenny's stunned realization.

“Yes. Sometimes. It's fun. But I still want school to be over. Then I can play with Sally Anne all day.”

“Don't forget Vacation Bible School. It'll be right after Independence Day,” Marcie said.

“I know, but that's different from regular school, more fun. And Sally Anne and I are in the same age group so we'll get to play together there. I hope Gillian's back by then. She's my teacher in Sunday school and said she wouldn't miss Vacation Bible School for anything.”

“Then she'll be back. It doesn't take that long to drive here from Nevada. VBS is a month away, after all.”

Jenny finished her ice cream, scraping the bowl until it was almost spotless. “And we'll have your snacks each day,” she said.

Marcie nodded. She rose and took the bowls to rinse in
the sink. “Healthful and nutritious.” Because her schedule was erratic, Marcie couldn't teach at VBS, but she had been working on the snacks portion for several years. She loved being creative with cookie shapes and other snacks for the children.

Jenny laughed as she jumped up from the table. “But it's always good. We don't notice the nutritious part. Can we look at dresses now?”

Marcie smiled. “Sure, come on.”

The next half hour passed quickly as they looked online at different gowns and dresses suitable for weddings. They were compiling a stack of printouts of dresses from different sites to review with Gillian when she returned. In the meantime, Marcie loved spending time with Jenny. Together they laughed at some dresses and grew seriously interested in a few.

When the knock sounded on the door, Marcie froze.

“That's Uncle Zack, I think,” Jenny said. “He said I could come here until he picked me up. We're going to eat in Portland tonight. He's not much of a cook. But we have to finish printing this dress.”

Marcie drew in a breath. The moment was at hand. She smiled at Jenny as she rose as if in a dream to go to the door. “You can wait until it finishes. I'll answer the door.”

Opening it, she braced herself for the impact of seeing Zack up close again. When she saw him, time seemed to stand still. His smile had always been special; now she could see the man the boy she'd known had grown into. It still had the power to knock her sideways.

“Hello, Marcie,” he said easily.

Surprisingly, a polite smile came without much effort. “Jenny's just about ready.” She clung to the door, hoping her pounding heart wasn't evident to the man standing on
the landing. She wished they were back in high school. She'd fly out to meet him. Instead, everything had changed. They were practically strangers now.

“I had to ask where you lived. No one was home at your parents' house.”

“I've lived here for five years now,” she said. Which he would have known if he'd kept up with her at all. It hurt to realize he had not. Surely his brother would have mentioned at some point what she was doing. Had Zack never asked after her? She had tried to resist when Joe spoke about him, but had gleaned information as the years had passed.

“Over the bakery? Doesn't it get noisy?”

“Sometimes in the early morning. But it suits me.” Though it was nothing like the clapboard house they'd talked about living in, complete with white picket fence. But then, nothing was as they'd talked about before.

“I'm ready, Uncle Zack,” Jenny said, coming to the door carrying a stack of pictures of dresses. “I'm going to be in Daddy's wedding and have to pick the dresses. Auntie Marcie is, too. We like these ones so I'm taking them to show Gillian when she gets back. Are you going to be in the wedding?”

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