The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge (151 page)

“And …”

“It isn’t an
and,
” she said, “it’s a
but
. As in, but Jesse somehow got around me. Before I knew it, I was asking him out. Funny, isn’t it?”

“Funny,” Clay agreed.

She remembered a comment she’d made to Jesse. “You and he didn’t have some kind of bet going, did you?”

“What kind of a bet would I have where my sister is concerned?” He turned off the car. “What kind of a guy do you think I am?”

“Well, you
have
become friends …”

“He’s a nice guy. But no, I swear there was no bet. But I am curious. It looks like the two of you are … well, getting involved. Are you?”

“You could say that.”

“You care about him?”

“More than I ever thought I’d care about anyone again.”

“What happened to the girl who didn’t want to fall
in love ever again because she couldn’t face the possibility of losing someone again?”

“I never thought I’d meet someone who’d be worth the risk.”

“And you think Jesse is?”

She nodded. “There’s no question in my mind that he’s worth it. But I don’t remember saying I was falling in love with him.”

“Are you?” Clay asked, his hand on the car door.

Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know …”

She was still asking herself the same question the next morning, when she rang Jesse’s doorbell, and again later after they’d made love. She was still wondering when they sat across from each other at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and rehashing the events of the night before.

“Your granddad was really happy to see everyone, wasn’t he?” she asked. “Especially his other grandchildren.”

“He was delighted. Surprised at first, but totally beside himself.” Jesse leaned back in his chair. “I really didn’t know what to expect from them. What if they were bitter toward Sophie and me for their dad walking out on them?”

“Were they?”

Jesse shook his head. “Georgia admitted that for a long time after they heard that Dad remarried, they assumed he’d left them and their mother for our mother. They couldn’t imagine there’d be any other reason a man would leave his family like that. But they said they talked to their mother again after the invitations arrived and she admitted that Dad’s leaving them had nothing to do with my mom. That it
was because of something that she’d—their mother—done long before she’d met their father.”

“That’s intriguing.” Brooke sat up. “Did they say what it was?”

Jesse shook his head. “Whatever it was, it’s between them and their mother. Who also admitted that she’d been responsible for them not seeing their grandparents. Nick said that her entire attitude has changed now that she’s a grandparent herself, that she’s apologized to all of them. She even wrote a letter to Pop that she had Nick deliver last night.”

“Did he read it?”

“He said he’d take a look at it later, that he didn’t want to get distracted from his grandkids. They apologized for just showing up, but by the time they’d all agreed to come, it was too late to RSVP.”

“So it was a great reunion.”

“And it’s still going on.” Jesse drained his cup and told her, “Drink up. We’re meeting them for brunch at one at that place on Charles Street that does the great brunches.”

“Let’s Do Brunch?” she asked.

“That’s the place. Come on.” He got up, took her by the hand, and pulled her from her chair.

“I can’t go like this.” Brooke frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m rumpled and I don’t have any makeup on and my hair’s a mess and I didn’t plan on going out, so I didn’t bring any clothes with me.”

“How long will it take you to go home, change, and whatever other stuff you said?”

“Maybe thirty minutes.” She calculated. “Includes drive time.”

“You have plenty of time. I’ll pick you up at twelve forty-five.”

“I can meet you there. It would save you time.”

“I’d like us to go together,” he told her. “Last night was a party for everyone. Today is meet-the-family day for you. I want to see what you think of everyone.”

“All right. I’ll go with you.” She walked into the foyer with him and picked up her bag that she’d dropped to the floor when he’d opened the door a few hours ago. “It should be interesting.”

And it had been that, Brooke later reflected. Interesting if not a bit overwhelming, with pictures of this child or that new baby being passed around. She lost track of whose baby was whose, who was the mother of Alexa and who was the mother of Summer, whose son was Charlie and whose was Cole. All in all, though, Brooke had had to admit that she was happy to have been included, happy to have met such interesting people. Jesse had been right. They were all very nice and fun and it was gratifying to see Curtis enjoying himself so much.

It seemed, Brooke thought, that having made the decision to be part of this family again, Jesse’s siblings had gone all out to blend. India, Nick’s wife, was also an assistant district attorney, so she and Sophie had lots to talk about and stories to trade. Matt, Georgia’s husband, shared a love for Sherlock Holmes with Jesse, and Brooke and Zoey bonded over food.

“Have you ever thought about putting together a cookbook of your cupcakes?” Zoey leaned behind her husband at the table to ask Brooke.

“No, never,” Brooke replied.

“You should do that. Really. We have food from everywhere come through the studio,” Zoey said, “but I swear I’ve never tasted cupcakes as good as yours. Maybe you could even make them for us. We sell a lot of food, and—”

“Whoa.” Brooke laughed. “I’m just getting around to baking for a local caterer. I can’t think of anything beyond filling those orders.”

“After the holidays, give it some thought.” Zoey took a business card from her bag and wrote on the back. “That’s my cell number and my email address. Call me in January and we’ll talk more.” She turned to Jesse. “Make sure she doesn’t forget, Jesse. This girl could go places with those cupcakes of hers …”

By the time brunch had ended, everyone had traded email addresses and cell numbers and had promised to be in touch over the holidays.

“Brooke,” India said as she buttoned up her coat, “Jesse tells me you have an eight-year-old son.”

“That’s right,” Brooke replied.

“We have an eight-year-old boy, too. Maybe we can get them together next year. Nick and I would love to have you and Jesse and your son come for a visit. We live on the Delaware Bay and there’s no end to the places they could explore.”

“Here, too,” Brooke said. “Lots of stuff going on in St. Dennis since the town was ‘discovered.’ ”

“And you can all stay at my place,” Curtis told them. “Anytime. All of you. The door will always be open.”

“We all know the way now. It really wasn’t so far.” Georgia stood on her tiptoes to kiss her grandfather’s
cheek, and it was obvious that the old man was moved.

Jesse had offered to drive Curtis home, since he’d arrived with Nick and India. When Jesse pulled up at the sidewalk in front of his grandfather’s home, Curtis said, “Thank you again for everything, son—for the party, for gathering my friends together for me, but most of all for bringing my family back together. That was the greatest gift anyone ever gave me, and I will never be able to thank you enough. I only wish your grandmother had lived to see this day.”

Jesse got out of the car to walk his grandfather to the door.

“It’s not necessary,” Curtis protested, but Jesse insisted.

Brooke sat in the car and watched the two of them—the tall handsome guy with the normally brisk step who’d slowed his pace so that the old white-haired gentleman could keep up—as they made their way up the long brick path, and felt her heart flip in her chest. For someone who’d been certain she’d never fall, she was dangerously close to tumbling headfirst.

Jesse dropped off Brooke so that she could get busy with the orders she had lined up for the following day, then made a detour on his way home to the stone jetty that jutted out into the Bay off Cannonball Island. He walked out onto the rocks and stood watching a sailboat being driven by the wind into a few sharp turns. He’d never sailed, though he’d thought about taking lessons last summer. He’d been tempted, but had decided against it because he figured it would be one more thing he’d be leaving behind if his grandfather decided not to keep him on.

The thought of having that happen—of having Curtis decide he’d rather close the firm that had represented so many local families for well over a hundred and fifty years than turn it over to Jesse—made Jesse physically ill. The humiliation of having an entire town know that your own flesh and blood thought you were unworthy to carry on the family name would have been too much, and Jesse had promised himself that if that happened, he’d just pack up and leave St. Dennis and forget that the entire place existed.
Curtis had given him one year, and he’d taken a one-year lease on the house on Hudson Street.

But then Jesse met Brooke, and he knew it would take more than professional embarrassment to make him leave and not look back. He’d spoken the truth when he told his grandfather that he didn’t think he’d ever been in love. There had been any number of women he’d liked and whose company he’d enjoyed throughout his life. Some he had definitely been in lust with. But love was something he hadn’t planned on, something he’d wanted none of. To Jesse, love was a stepping-stone that led to a lot of pain. His mother was living proof of that. She’d loved his father a great deal, and look where that had gotten her. The last thing Jesse ever wanted was to do to a woman what his father had done to his mother. Not that Jesse would set out to hurt someone, he’d certainly never plan on it, but how did he know he really wasn’t a chip off the old block?

But that was before Brooke.

There was no denying he’d fallen hard and fast for her, and he knew in his heart that he could never be what his father had been. He’d proven professionally that he was a good lawyer, good enough to carry on the family name here in this town where
Enright
meant so much.

That was important to him—there was no way around it, living up to Curtis’s high expectations meant the world to Jesse. Knowing that he’d made the grade had lifted an enormous burden from his shoulders.

Finding the siblings that had been lost to him over the years, finding that they had open hearts and open
arms, had lifted an old sorrow from his heart. He’d be forever grateful that they’d taken the chance, and after what had apparently been a long debate, had accepted his invitation.

But finding Brooke had filled him with a joy that he could never have anticipated. He’d played it just the way Clay had told him to, played it cool for as long as he could, but there was no way he could pretend that she wasn’t the center of his life. He was head over heels and didn’t think he could hide that from her much longer, if in fact he’d hidden it at all.

Did she know? He wasn’t sure.

The only thing he was sure of was how he felt, and that the days of playing it cool were past. As soon as the wedding was over and Brooke had more than a minute to focus on something other than her business, he was going to lay it all on the line. Staying in St. Dennis now meant more than staying at Enright and Enright. It meant staying with Brooke, and building a life with her and Logan right here in her hometown.

St. Dennis was now Jesse’s home, too, and he had no intention of leaving.

Curtis turned on the lights in the conservatory and proceeded to water his wife’s orchids and ferns. He’d made a point of tending her plants, those she’d cultivated and pampered, and it was a source of pride to him that over the years, he’d lost very few. He’d repotted and divided the way he’d seen her do, and as a result, had more orchids than he knew what to do with. But tending them had kept him close to her, and when he was here, doing what she would have done
herself, he knew she approved and silently applauded and appreciated his efforts.

The night before, when all of their grandchildren had gathered in the big formal living room, the scent of gardenia had been so strong that at one point, Zoey had asked if there was a plant nearby. Mike’s daughter, Elizabeth, had mentioned that she used a gardenia soap because their grandmother had been fond of it, and that had satisfied everyone. But Curtis knew it had been more than soap that had perfumed the air.

“Weren’t they lovely, the lot of them?” He spoke aloud as he watered the ferns. “Mike’s boys and Elizabeth were wonderful, made everyone feel at home. It did my heart good, I swear, to see them all together, talking and laughing like old friends.” He put the watering can down on the bench and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’d have given whatever years I may have left to have had you here for that, Rose.” He paused. “But of course, you were here, in your way, and I’m grateful for that.”

The only one who’d been missing had been Craig, and for all the chaos his son had caused in so many lives, some small part of Curtis wished he’d been there as well.

“Not the real Craig, though,” he told Rose. “The
should-have-been
Craig. The real Craig would have brought along too much pain to too many people.” He sighed deeply. It was terrible to want so badly to love your son, when your son insisted on being so unlovable. How, Curtis wondered, had such a man fathered five such wonderful children?

It was one of those mysteries he’d never solve.

Curtis walked to the glass wall that overlooked the gardens that he now had to pay someone else to care for. His days of weeding and planting—the things he’d taken up after she was gone—had ended. These days, it was all he could do to walk the entire length of the property in the back and pull out the occasional dried and dead plant.

Like I’ll be soon enough
, he thought. Not for the first time, he wondered if he and Rose would be able to come back and look in on their progeny, much as Rose looked in on him. Curtis had no fear of dying, no intention of praying for another day or a little more time. He felt he’d died a little every morning he’d had to wake without her by his side and was more than ready to be with her again in whatever form that next world allowed. But he would like to make a final decision on what to do with this place. There were eight grandchildren. How to decide? How to choose one over the other?