Sunrise on Cedar Key (5 page)

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Authors: Terri Dulong

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Sunrise on Cedar Key
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“Well, you certainly put me to shame,” I told him. “Cooking has never been one of my best attributes.”
“Ah, but I'm sure you have talents in other areas.”
Why did the way he said that have a sexy connotation to my ears?
“You're very right,” my aunt said. “Grace is an expert knitter. You should see some of the wonderful work she's done over the years.”
“That's an admirable talent, and maybe someday you'll show me some of your work.”
Hmm, did this constitute an almost-date?
“I'd love to,” I said, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “By the way, your coffee is superb, and I'd bet anything you brought it back from Paris, didn't you?”
He nodded. “Oh, yes, on my most recent trip over there. I seem to be unable to return to the States without French coffee and chocolate.”
I smiled. “Those are also the two items I always returned with.” Well, we had something in common.
It was close to midnight by the time my aunt and I left Lucas's house. I had thoroughly enjoyed the entire evening and especially Lucas's company. I had also thought that perhaps the hint of a bona fide date—minus my aunt—might be forthcoming. But it was not.
6
A
fter taking Annie for a walk through the downtown area, I had returned home and was enjoying my first cup of coffee on the front porch. The phone beside me rang, and I was happy to hear Suellen's voice.
“Okay,” she said. “Tell me all about Lucas Trudeau. Don't leave anything out. You know me. I love details. I'd popped by his bookshop here in town and got to meet him, so believe me, I know that man is hot! Tell me all about the dinner last night.”
I took a sip of coffee and then shook my head laughing. “Suellen, you're incorrigible.” I often wondered if she was the avid romantic she was because of her mother and the reason she named her daughter Suellen. Suellen's mom had been named Careen. Both had been named for the sisters of Scarlett O'Hara. Suellen's grandmother and her mother were devoted
Gone with the Wind
fans, something that had been passed on to my friend. She in turn named her one and only daughter, Ashley, based on another character from that novel. I often wondered why she hadn't just named her Scarlett. “I told you. I really don't know Lucas that well. I mean, I'm not even sure I could say we're friends yet.
Acquaintance—
that's a better word to describe our relationship.”
“Acquaintance? Oh, girlfriend, that is
so
boring. But not to worry, what with him relocating to Cedar Key, I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunity to notch up a level or two from
acquaintance.
”
I smiled. She actually said that word like it was distasteful in her mouth.
“Tell me how that brilliant, beautiful, and wonderful goddaughter of mine is doing.”
Suellen's voice morphed into a softness that the mere mention of her daughter always brought about.
“Oh, Gracie, she couldn't be doing better. I can hardly believe she's started her sophomore year at UGA. She loves the University of Georgia, and she's had a great summer working at a vet clinic in Athens.”
I recalled all the years that Ashley had brought home stray dogs and cats, cried over wounded birds, and once even begged to adopt a raccoon that had been hanging around their yard. So I wasn't surprised at all when I learned she planned to major in veterinary medicine.
“She's one great girl, Suellen, and you should be very proud. It's not easy raising a daughter on your own.”
“Oh, I don't know how much I had to do with the way she turned out. Sometimes parenthood is just a crap shoot. You do everything you can and still, the adult child can be a disappointment. And yet look at how many kids come from the most horrible childhoods ... and they grow up to be admirable and outstanding human beings. Go figure, I say.”
As Suellen's best friend, maybe I was a bit prejudiced, but I knew firsthand what she'd endured in her short marriage to Ashley's dad. Jack Daniels had always been his best friend, and it never failed to have a tendency to bring out the worst in him. Although it's probably the only thing she'd never confided in me, I have no doubt that Mason McSwain had been physically abusive to Suellen before she took her fifteen-month-old daughter and moved in with her mother. Mason had quickly left the area after that, and nobody had heard from him in almost twenty years. All for the better, I say.
I then went on to tell her about the new business and knitting retreats. “I'm really excited about all of it.”
“Oh, you should be, and it sounds like a lot of fun. Imagine ... women coming from all across the country to knit while they connect and bond. I love the idea, and I wish you both a huge success with this.”
“Thanks. I'm really looking forward to all of it—except for one small surprise that Aunt Maude sprung on me.”
“What's that?”
“Well, I'm afraid my sister is about to be divorced,” I said, and then explained Chloe's situation.
“Good God! You've got to be kidding! Parker did that to her? I mean, really, we all know what a bitch Chloe can be, but geez ...”
“My thoughts exactly. And so—looks like she'll be here this Friday to lick her wounds and try to recover her life.”
“Wow. Imagine though, she gives him all those good years and now—she's left completely alone. Sometimes life's a bitch, huh?”
“Isn't that the truth? Well, I need to get moving here. I have to get downtown to go through the pitiful rubble that was my house and former business.”
“Oh, sugar, I wish I could be there to help you. But I'll see you in two weeks. Call me soon.”
“Will do,” I said, hanging up and heading inside to the shower.
 
I spent a discouraging two hours sifting through what remained of my belongings. Following Jim back to the pavement, I mopped the sweat from my forehead and stared at the golf cart Ali had let me borrow. “It's pitiful that's all I have to show for ten years of my life,” I said, gesturing toward a few items of clothes, two books that had managed to avoid being charred, and wind chimes that had hung in my coffee shop. Everything else that I had possessed was either burnt or ruined with the odor of smoke. Like all of my knitting—skeins of brand-new yarn that weren't destroyed now carried a sickening smell.
“I just want to say again how sorry I am, Miss Gracie.”
“I know, and thank you. I'm really grateful that I left a lot of my personal belongings at my aunt's house when I moved here. Like photographs of my parents and things with memories. Well—I called the company you recommended, and they'll be here tomorrow morning to demolish what's left of the structure.”
“Okay. There's no need for you to be here. The fellow gave me a call and I told him I'd meet him at nine.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. This was bad enough, going through what little was left. I don't think I could stand here and watch it all come tumbling down.”
“I understand, and if you need anything at all, just give me a ring.”
“I will,” I said, getting in the golf cart and heading to Second Street.
As I approached the bookshop I saw Lucas out front touching up some paint around the door. He looked up, saw me, and waved.
“How're you?” he asked.
I pulled the golf cart to the curb and got out. “Not bad, considering I just rescued what little was worth rescuing from the coffee shop and my apartment.” I pointed to the few items.
“That was all you could get, huh? What a shame. None of the equipment in the coffee shop or any of your furniture?”
I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. “Nope. That's it.”
“I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like to join me? I was going to take a break.”
“Sounds good,” I said, following him inside as the wonderful fragrance of lavender hit my nostrils. “Ah, lavender potpourri from Provence?”
Lucas nodded as he filled two mugs. “It has the ability of providing a relaxing atmosphere, don't you think?”
“I do. I always had bowls of it around my apartment, and I normally have lavender incense burning when I read my cards.”
“Your cards?”
Damn. Why did I mention that? He'll probably think I'm a total fruitcake
. “Ah ... well ... yeah, I read my tarot cards. Are you familiar with those?”
“Are those the things with quite vivid pictures on them and people use them to tell their future?”
I nodded. “Yeah, all the women in my family have used the tarot, so guess I followed in their footsteps.” He didn't seem surprised.
“My grandmother always used to read her cards and those of people in the village. So do you do it just as a hobby or are you quite good at it?”
I laughed. “I'd say it's more than a
hobby
and I think I'm usually pretty good reading them. Did your grandmother read yours?”
Lucas took a sip of coffee before answering. “No. As a small child and teenager I always wanted her to—but she said I didn't need to know my future. I should just live it.”
I found this interesting, because many times if a reader senses something negative or disturbing from somebody's vibes or aura, rather than bring forth this information with the cards they might refrain from reading them. Is that why Lucas's grandmother had refused? I realized I knew very little about him.
“Well, I'd say you're doing just that—
living
it.” I knew he wasn't presently married but wondered if he had been when he lived in France.
“Yes, I try. Life is very fragile. We have to make the most of the moments we're given, don't you think?”
“I absolutely do.” His tone had become pensive, and I thought it best to change the subject. “Are you all set for your grand opening on Sunday?”
“Yes. I'm going into Gainesville Friday to pick up the wine and cheese.”
“My aunt and I are looking forward to coming. Oh, I almost forgot ... my sister, Chloe, is arriving on Friday. She'll be staying with my aunt. Unfortunately, her marriage has broken up and she's relocating here. Would it be okay if she comes with us on Sunday?”
Lucas's expression looked genuinely pained. “I'm very sorry to hear that, but how nice she can rely on you and your aunt to help her through this difficult time. And yes, by all means, bring her to the grand opening.”
“Thanks. By the way, is it a secret or can you share what you're thinking of doing with the other room?” I asked, looking at the archway.
Lucas laughed. “Oh, it's not a secret. Well, my first idea was to simply add more bookshelves and seating areas for patrons. And then I thought it might be nice to have a coffee café—you know, like the large bookstore chains have. But I didn't want to take away business from you.”
“That was really nice of you to consider that, but as you know—my coffee shop is now history. Actually, I think that's a great idea. I mean, gee, where will the locals go now to hang out and gossip?”
A killer smile crossed Lucas's face. “Really? You wouldn't mind?”
“Of course not. The island needs a place to gather. Besides, I've committed to being a partner with Aunt Maude in her new venture, so I'm sure that'll keep me busy.”
“Well, then—I think that settles it. But could I impose upon you to give me some guidance? Maybe in the design and ordering whatever equipment you think might be best? I promise not to bother you too much, but maybe when you're free we could do some—what do they call it?—
brainstorming
together.”
I couldn't remember the last time a suggestion had appealed to me quite as much. “I think it'll be fun, Lucas, and I'd love to.”
 
I returned home to find Aunt Maude sitting on her back deck at the patio table surrounded by notebooks and assorted papers.
Annie ran to greet me, and I picked her up to cuddle. “Were you a good girl while I was gone?”
“She's delightful. Did you do okay getting your things?”
I put Annie down and joined my aunt at the table. “Yeah, what little there was. What are you up to here?”
“Well, I'm getting organized. Making notes on things we need to do to remodel the carriage house. I've already called a contractor, and he'll be out tomorrow morning to give me an estimate. Something else I think we should consider is a cleaning girl. I always had one for my house in Brunswick and I'd like a girl here, and she could also do the carriage house for us. What do you think?”
“Great idea for your apartment and the carriage house, but I rather enjoy cleaning my own place. Gives me time to chill out and think.”
My aunt laughed. “Okay. I popped by the Bed and Breakfast, and Ali suggested somebody. She's new to the island and Ali wasn't able to give her any work, but it sounds like the girl could use more money.”
“Good. Hopefully she'll be interested. Have you contacted her?”
“Ali said she knew how to reach her. So I told her to find out if the girl—her name is Rachel Ellis, by the way—could stop by tomorrow morning so we could meet her.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Okay,” my aunt said, getting up. “Let's go take a look at the carriage house and see if we can come up with some ideas.”
I followed my aunt to the tabby structure. French doors ran the entire length, creating a pastoral atmosphere in the middle of the garden.
“I can see a few bottles of Windex are going to be needed to make all that glass shine,” I said, as my aunt unlocked the door.
We stepped inside to a large, bright, and airy room. The roof above me had two skylights, allowing the sun to stream in. Two large picture windows flanked each side of the room, and at the far end was a staircase leading upstairs to a loft overlooking the area where we stood.

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