Rocky Point Reunion (4 page)

“Oh, Zack, apologies should never be made because they ought to be. They have to be sincere.”

“I am sincere. I did it all wrong and hurt you and I'm forever sorry for that. It wasn't my intent.”

“So what was your intent? We discussed marriage for months before deciding to do it. We knew we were young, but we thought we were ready. I thought we were ready. We planned the wedding all spring. Why not tell me you'd changed your mind?”

“I hadn't. Not exactly.”

“Then exactly what?”

“I wanted to marry you, you know that. We talked about the wedding and not much about the future. You wanted a cottage by the sea. To stay in Rocky Point.” He glanced away for a moment. “At first I thought I could be content working here, getting that house we talked about, settling down. Joe loved cars and I could have worked with him and done fine, I know.”

“Sure.” But he wouldn't have been happy. She knew that. His wildness was what had made him so irresistible. He had been restless, seeking a wider world than she had.

“Then, out of the blue, came a chance to drive on the race circuit. From Claude Moulet. I doubt you remember him, but he was someone my dad knew and had kept in touch after our folks died. Anyway, it was the chance of a lifetime. The only problem, I had to show up within two days to make the cut.”

“So, scratch the wedding, forget the girl who was planning to share your life and take off. I see.” As an explanation, it didn't help. She felt a rush of pain, remembering the heartbreak that had hit her so unexpectedly. That was the worst part—the lack of warning. She turned her face so he couldn't see the sadness she knew must be there. The remembered hurt was hard to hide.

He didn't reply for a moment. “I was eighteen.
You
were eighteen. We were kids. I got cold feet about getting married and was feeling stifled in Rocky Point. Our families have been here since the seventeen hundreds! I wanted to see something more than this spot of Maine. I was selfish and thoughtless and afraid I'd never get to see anything, do anything. And I knew I couldn't ask you to leave.”

“I guess I should have picked up on that,” she said slowly. Her heart hurt afresh with the thought of his getting cold feet, of regretting that he'd asked her to marry him. She had been so starry-eyed, thinking the world was perfect. Shame on her for not being more observant, more aware of his feelings. She blinked back tears. They had been kids, but as in love as she'd been, shouldn't she have seen what he was going through? She glanced at him; he was looking into the distance, regret clearly showing.

“I did all I could to squelch my fears. But they got bigger the closer to the wedding date we came. I didn't have a long-range career plan—what if we couldn't make it financially? What if there was nothing for me in Rocky Point, and you didn't want to leave? I knew that. I wanted to want what you wanted—that house near the sea, a white picket fence. How could I afford a house? What if we had kids? I didn't know anything about being a parent at eighteen. People were talking behind our backs about teenage marriages, the failure rate, the problems. The more I heard, the more I felt I couldn't make it. So when the offer came, it
opened up the entire world. If I could make the grade, I'd have money to afford that house, I'd have security to offer you. So I left before I could be talked out of it.” He drew in a deep breath and looked at her, shaking his head slowly. “I thought you could join me later. But by the time it was right, by the time I could afford it, I heard you'd bought the café and it sounded like you had things going your way. I knew you didn't want to leave Rocky Point. Buying the café anchored you even more. I did it all wrong,” he said slowly. “I'm sorry, Marcie.”

She stared at him for a long time, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Her heart ached at the loss of the love they'd shared, at the dreams shattered. But life wasn't always fair. It didn't always go as she planned. Memories flitted through her mind—the church as it had been decorated with flowers and candles, the reception hall, the condolences of her bridesmaids, the beautiful white dress she'd never wear again. He'd gotten what he wanted and she'd grown happy enough over the years. She had her café and friends and a strong faith. God had truly blessed her. It was God's plan she sought.

“Thanks for the explanation,” she said.

Silence grew. Marcie stared at the boats, began eating her sandwich. Zack studied her for a long moment.

“So what now?” he asked.

She looked at her sandwich, wishing she had made them smaller. “We go on, I guess. What else is there?”

“I hope one day we might be friends,” he said slowly. When she risked another glance, she could see the deep emotion in his eyes. She had not been the only one hurt by the past. Could she put it behind her? Could they one day be friends?

The pull of attraction she felt when around him suggested not. She'd forever yearn for more than friendship,
for the love they'd once shared. She glanced around the marina. Everywhere she looked she saw bits and pieces of the past. They'd gone sailing several times over the summers in high school. She'd loved skimming the water while he handled the sails.

She shook her head to dislodge her thoughts. She did not want to dwell in the past.

Tears threatened. She'd loved him so much at one time and now all he wanted was to be friends. Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Sure, friends.”

He reached out and took one of her hands in his.

She looked up into his dark eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment she wished she'd dare hold his hand and never let him go. Slowly she slipped her hand from his. “A lot's happened since then. I have a nice life and am content. You'll get tired of pokey old Rocky Point again and take off. You were right. I love it here and never wanted to live elsewhere. I have friends, my dad, a good business. I'm a homebody from the get-go.”

“It's a good place to live. To raise a family. Joe's done well. We worked on cars together when we were teenagers. I'm thinking of asking him to let me buy in as a partner. I have enough knowledge to pull my own weight.” He sat back a bit, as if deliberately placing distance between them.

“And how long before you miss the lights of Paris or the excitement of a race and you take off again?” she asked slowly. “This isn't your place anymore.”

“It's my place, as much as it ever was. I'm back, probably for good.” Now wasn't the time to go into his change of heart, his change of plans brought on by Jacques's death.

Marcie toyed with her sandwich, wondering how soon she could leave without looking like she was running away.

“How's your dad?” Zack asked.

“Fine. He's going fishing today.”

“He always loved that. You go often?”

She shook her head. “I haven't been in a while. Too busy. But he's cut back his work hours to four days a week so he and his cronies can go as often as the weather permits.”

“Did he ever get that boat he talked about?”

“No.” She didn't want to talk about mundane things. She wanted to be alone, to think about what he'd said, try to see things from his point of view.
Please, Lord, give me insight to his feelings, so I can find forgiveness in my heart.

 

Zack watched Marcie as she played with her food. She wasn't eating. The sandwiches were delicious, but he didn't have much appetite himself. He'd delayed speaking with her for the entire time he'd been back in town. Finally garnering courage to face her on Sunday and now today—and it seemed the wall she'd erected was stronger than ever. He wanted her forgiveness. He wanted her friendship. He wanted her laughter. Truth be told, he wanted her to love him again.

But her reaction to his apology had him fearing that would never happen. She hadn't said she understood his decision, that they had been kids but were older now and wiser. He felt wiser, with the experience of the last years. He was no longer the impetuous teenager longing for excitement and a lifestyle suited to only a few and panicking at the thought of being married. They could have had a baby that first year, which would have insured he could never leave. Things were different now. He was different. The thought of a baby, or two, did funny things inside. Would he be a good father? He'd do his best. If he could be half as good as his own father, it'd be okay.

“Have you heard from Joe and Gillian?” she asked politely.

He nodded, disappointed to think they were reduced to this—polite conversation about other people. Yet, what had he expected—that time would stand still until he chose to return? When, in fact, circumstances had dictated his return, not his choice.

“They finished sorting the things Gillian wants to bring here, cleaned the apartment and have started back. Gillian's driving her car, Joe the rented moving van. They expect to be home in a couple of weeks.”

“How is it watching Jenny?”

He smiled. “I'm constantly surprised by what she says. I can't believe I let seven years of her life go by before getting to know her. She's awesome.”

“She is. All the girls in her class are. I enjoy listening to them talk and am fascinated by how much they know and understand. I think as a kid I was a lot more oblivious to events going on around me. Of course, right now the main topic is the wedding. She's thrilled to be in it.”

“I guess that's something most girls love,” he said, daring a glance at her. He didn't want to talk about weddings, not so soon after explaining why he'd run from theirs.

Marcie looked at her watch. Did he see tears in her eyes? “I have to go.” She gathered her sandwich and paper and stuffed it back into the bag. “Finish your lunch. Thanks for mine.” She rose and headed back toward the café without a backward look.

I'm sorry, Marcie,
he wanted to call out.
Please stay.

Zack watched her leave knowing they were no closer at this moment than two days after he'd left her. But one thing was certain. After all this time, after all that had happened since he'd left, he still had strong feelings for Marcie
Winter. She was skeptical, unbelieving in his commitment to stay in Rocky Point. So be it. He had a long way to go to regain her trust. His plans weren't firm yet, but they definitely included settling down and reconnecting with his family and old friends. If he were a praying man, he'd ask for help.

Another thing that had gone by the wayside when he'd left. It wasn't as if God was only in Rocky Point, Maine. But Zack didn't think He would have viewed his taking off in a good light. Probably had washed His hands of Zack years ago.

Could he mend fences there, as well?

Z
ack finished the sandwich, trying to come up with an idea to prove to Marcie he could be trusted, that he knew his mind now and he was in it for the long haul. He hadn't a clue on how to convince her.

Seeing her again had planted the idea of the two of them together again. He wanted her back in his life and wanted to be a part of hers. He'd have to work at it, but one thing he knew for sure, she was worth it. She wasn't as receptive as he'd hoped. Yet perhaps that only showed him how much she'd once cared. Surely love that strong, a love they had thought would last their lifetime, wouldn't have faded completely away. Could he convince her to give him another chance?

“Zack,” Sheriff Tate Johnson said, stopping by the table.

“Tate. Take a seat. You on patrol?”

Tate Johnson and Zack had gone to school together. Tate's parents ran the hardware store in the center of town. They'd shared more than growing up together. Both had been anxious to leave Rocky Point. Tate had gone to college in Boston, studying criminology. Ended up on the Boston PD for a couple of years. After his wife died, when
his father had suffered a minor stroke, he'd returned to Rocky Point and was elected sheriff the next spring in a special election after old Sheriff Montgomery had died suddenly.

Maybe Zack should point out to Marcie that people did change their minds about Rocky Point. Tate was a perfect example.

“No patrol, just out walking around. In good weather it's the best way to keep in touch with everyone.” He put a leg over the bench and straddled it. “In bad weather it shows everyone how devoted I am.” He gave Zack a sardonic smile.

Zack laughed. “We all know you're devoted. Had to be to leave Boston to come here. This is not exactly the big city.”

“Hey, it's home. Boston was fine. Got good training there. But things changed, stuff happened. Now I'm settled in Rocky Point.”

“I don't suppose you are thinking of getting married again.”

“Nope. Did that. I think the Lord has a different plan for me.”

“Good luck,” Zack said.

“You don't think so?”

“You might have an inside track at that.” Zack did not want to talk about God or the plans He might have had once for Zack. “What do you know about a kid named Sean O'Connell?”

“Teenager. Gets in trouble sometimes, nothing major. Needs an outlet for some of that teenage energy. Why?”

Zack told him about meeting Sean at the picnic. “Any problem with driving too fast?”

“He doesn't have a car. Sometimes he borrows his
mother's, but not often. Never heard of excess speed. So, he wants to race. You going to help him?”

“Maybe. Anywhere around to drive fast?”

Tate shook his head. “There was talk a few years back about a track in Portland, but nothing ever came of it. Liability insurance was prohibitive, I think.”

“Any empty parking lots? Some of the driving techniques are more about controlling a car than speed. I could work with an obstacle course or something like that.”

“There's a factory outside of Monkesville, not too far. Don't know who's in charge since they closed it down. Want me to find out?”

“If you could.”

“You planning to stay around long?” Tate asked.

“Depends on a few things.”

His old friend studied him for a moment, then guessed: “Marcie?”

“For one. Joe, for another. I want to see if he wants to go partners. He might like a bit more time off now that he's going to have a new wife.”

“What about racing?”

Zack hesitated a moment, then said, “Racing's been every bit as exciting and fun as I thought it would be. Living in Europe, seeing different cities in different countries on a regular basis was thrilling in the beginning. Life seemed good….”

“But?” Tate narrowed his gaze as Zack trailed off.

“Five months ago my friend Jacques Burde was killed in a race. It was so unexpected. Jacques was daring but seemed to have a protective bubble around him. Until it popped. I've taken a long look at life since then. Touring Europe isn't as exciting as it once was. Between practice races and working with the mechanics to get the most out of the car, there isn't any time for sightseeing. I was on a
treadmill from hotel to race course and back, then on to the next track.”

“Sorry about your friend,” Tate said.

He was quiet for a moment. It was hard to accept that Jacques wouldn't be celebrating victories again. Would never stay up late into the night discussing their different philosophies of life. Talking about a nebulous future where everything went their way.

“I guess every job had its routine aspects. Still an exciting profession. And you're at the top,” Tate said.

“Being away from home wears on a person. The races are demanding. Every spare moment's needed to study the courses or work with the team for more performance from the car.” He liked the money, the prestige and glamour. But most of the job was hard work and constant competition. Not to mention the edge of fear each race engendered. He'd done well. Since Jacques's death, however, he knew no one necessarily got out of racing alive. Time to retire while at the top.

“So you're going to be satisfied in Rocky Point?” Tate asked.

“I will. I'm not leaving. I'm enjoying getting to know my niece. It's almost a crime I waited seven years to meet her.”

“Where does Sean fit in?”

“He asked for pointers. I'd like to see what's available. Maybe I could show a few others some aspects of racing. Emphasize the need for safety, the dangers of the sport. I wouldn't deny anyone the chance. Only, I'd advise more planning than I did. And to make sure the kid doesn't break someone's heart.”

“Marcie's made a place for herself here. Don't go messing with that, Zack,” Tate warned.

“My intentions are totally honorable.”

The sheriff studied him for a moment. “You're going to try to win her back.”

Zack nodded.

“An uphill battle. I don't envy you that task.”

“Maybe impossible, but I need to try. I've missed her too much over the years to quietly sit on the sidelines. If there's any possible chance for us, I want it. I'm willing to do anything I can to have her forgive me and open her mind to the possibility of us as a couple again.”

“Good luck.” Tate rose. “I'll check on that parking lot for you. In the meantime, no racing on Ocean Side Drive.”

Zack laughed. “None. My daring days are behind me.”

“Somehow that's hard to believe.” Tate touched the brim of his hat with a finger and resumed his walk.

At least his friend hadn't been outraged at his confession, nor too discouraging. Zack would have an uphill climb, but no matter what, he wanted Marcie in his life again.

Preferably as his wife.

 

Marcie walked into her office and shut the door. She sat at her desk, swiveled the chair around and gazed out the window at the back parking lot. Not the pretty view of Main Street the restaurant also afforded, but she wasn't seeing it anyway. A moment later she sighed softly and closed her eyes.
So, Lord, what's up with Zack? He wants forgiveness and I know I ought to give it. But it's hard. I was so hurt when he left. What should I do?
She waited several minutes and then opened her eyes as a knock sounded at the door. “I await your direction. Amen,” she murmured quickly and turned.

“Come on in.” Trying to look busy, she drew the schedule to the center of the desk.

“It's Trevor again,” Jessica said without waiting a second. “He's driving me nuts.”

“As in?” Marcie asked. She'd spoken to the teenager when Jessica first complained. She'd thought he understood.

“He thinks this is school and he can play hooky whenever he wants.” She walked to the desk and leaned over, resting her palms on the flat surface. “Now he wants time off to go sailing with friends. Honestly, Marcie, you suggested I rotate the staff, and I've tried, but this kid is getting the best of me. And he has no drive or any kind of work ethic I can see.”

“When does he want to go sailing?” Marcie asked, wondering if she made a mistake in hiring him. “Today!”

“Send him in and I'll talk to him again and make it clear, work first or he can get a job somewhere else.”

Jessica turned just as another waitress came to the door.

“Trevor took off,” Ruth said. “Told me he told you he was going sailing.”

Jessica turned back to look at Marcie.

“Okay, he's history. I'll call Marc and see if he can come in for the dinner shift. Can you two manage until then?”

Ruth looked at Jessica and nodded. “Piece of cake, boss,” she said.

“I'll give you a hand in the meantime. This can wait,” Marcie said, glancing at her desk. Physical activity would push out the niggling problem of Zack and his wanting them to be friends.

The afternoon passed swiftly, with business steady but not rushed. As the dinner hour approached, more and more
customers arrived. Even with Marc's help, Marcie continued bussing tables, chatting with longtime customers and helping out a time or two with delivering orders to the tables. She loved her restaurant and was pleased so many of the town's residents seemed to, as well.

It was early evening when she took a break and ate standing in the kitchen. She had to get someone to replace Trevor. Helping out once in a while was not a problem, but that was not her job. Hers was to run the café, not clear tables. She'd ask Tim, her night manager, if he had any suggestions.

As she savored the salmon that seemed to melt in her mouth, she considered who was around who might want a job. Only a couple of high school students had applied for summer work. She'd hired both. The young woman had quickly learned, kept to herself and had never given a hint of trouble. She showed up a few minutes early every day and never left on the dot of nine. Too bad Trevor couldn't have been more like Sarabeth.

She'd ask around at church on Sunday to see if anyone knew a teen needing a summer job.

Standing in the bustling kitchen she watched as the sisters prepared the meals, the waitresses came and went with hot dishes and Oral washed dishes with a steady hand. He'd been with her from the beginning. People said he had a learning disability, but he'd learned to clean her dishes and utensils and did the job perfectly every day. His relief was an older woman, Martha Evenrode, who was retired but liked to keep her hand in, as she said. She talked a mile a minute, but was just as efficient as Oral. Why couldn't she have found summer workers with the same work ethic?

Once Tim arrived, Marcie filled him in on the situation and headed for home. She had neglected the work that waited on her desk, but wanted to leave. She felt drained
from the day—starting with her meeting with Zack. What was she going to do about him? She needed to build immunity. Every time she'd seen him in the last few days, she'd felt confused, uncertain, giddy as a schoolgirl. That had to end. What they had was over years ago. He'd moved on, done what he wanted. And she had, too. She had all she needed, she thought as she let herself into her apartment.

Except a family of her own and grandchildren for her dad. Shaking off that thought, she rummaged in the fridge for the ice cream remaining from Jenny's visit. Time to indulge in chocolate! She'd take one day at a time, she vowed as she dished up the rich ice cream and drizzled chocolate on top. She wasn't sure if she was reading things as they were, or as she was beginning to wish they were. She had to decide—trust Zack or avoid him. Or was there a third option?

 

The next morning Marcie got to the café before seven. She wanted to get right to work and maybe have enough time later in the day to take a few hours off. She plunged in and it was two hours later before she noticed her morning waitresses giggling in the kitchen. She looked up and wondered what had them acting that way. Suzette straightened her pinafore and said something to April and then headed back to the dining room.

April stood at the door, peering after her.

Marcie's curiosity rose. “Is there a problem?” she asked, coming from her office.

April let the swinging door close and turned. “No problem, just the most gorgeous guy you ever saw. All summer visitors should look so good—we'd be even happier to serve them.”

Marcie went to the door and looked out through the
glass panel. In only a second she spotted Zack, with Suzette hovering over him.

“He's not a summer visitor. That's Joe Kincaid's brother.”

“Wow, the race car driver?” April nudged her away and gazed out the narrow pane. “Now I see the family resemblance to Joe. Is he back for good?”

“I really don't know,” Marcie said, walking away. That fluttery feeling was there again. Every time. She had to stop this. She poured herself a cup of coffee and considered things. Immunity wasn't coming easy. Maybe she needed to spend more time with him, have reality return. He was the same guy she'd once loved. On the phone last night with her best friend, Jody had said it was leftover feelings, nostalgia from the past. Was she right?

“I'll be out front,” Marcie said, stepping around April and carrying her cup directly to Zack's table.

“Did you get his order?” she asked Suzette.

“Right here.” She waved her order pad and smiled at Zack.

“You might want to give it to the cook.” Sliding onto the chair opposite him, Marcie put her cup down and looked at Zack. Once Suzette had left, she asked, “What are you doing here and where's Jenny?”

“Jenny's at Sally Anne's for the day. Her mother's taking them to some store to look for new bathing suits. I gave her enough money to buy one and thanked Kimberly profusely for doing that. Otherwise, Jenny'd have to wait until her dad got home. I know nothing about bathing suits for seven-year-olds.”