The Chesapeake Diaries Series (105 page)

Did all parents anguish over this stuff, or was it just Wade? And how did moms always seem to manage, anyway? Maybe he should talk to Dallas before he left on Monday. Then again, he had the feeling that any doubts he might express would likely raise her hopes that he’d changed his mind.

And then there was Steffie.

Nothing in his life had ever created as many conflicted feelings in him as Steffie. Deciding to claim
Austin as his own had been a piece of cake compared to figuring out where—if anywhere—he fit into Stef’s life, and where she fit into his. When it came to her, the only thing Wade knew for certain was that he didn’t have a clue. Oh, yeah, and that his body temperature rose and his ability to think clearly diminished in direct proportion to his proximity to her.

Bottom line: he’d been a fool to think he could stand that close to the fire and not feel its heat.

Like it or not, he was beginning to suspect that his concerns about the new job—the contract and about the move being too upsetting for Austin and the child care maybe not being what he wanted it to be—maybe it was all a smoke screen for the fact that more and more he was beginning to think that there was more for him in St. Dennis than he’d realized.

A shadow fell across his face, and he heard a soft clicking sound.

“You’d best put that camera away,” Wade said without opening his eyes. “I know guys who’ve tossed their sisters into the river for less than that.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. You and Austin look so peaceful sleeping there together.” When Wade looked up, Dallas was staring upriver. “It sounds as if someone’s cutting down trees.”

“Berry said the other day that one of the lots near the warehouses was sold. Maybe the new owner is going to be building there.” He eased up onto his elbows, trying not to awaken the still-sleeping child.

Dallas was frowning. “I hope it’s not the lot closest to the properties I just bought. One of the reasons I found those warehouses so perfect for a movie studio
was that they were naturally shielded from the public. Those woods are a big part of that shield.”

“Why don’t you give Hal a call, see if he knows anything about that?” Wade suggested.

“Good idea.” She turned toward the house.

“Did you come out here for any reason other than to disturb my sleep?” he asked.

“Oh. Yeah.” Dallas took a few steps back in his direction. “Berry wanted to know if you could move that trailer that you brought all your stuff in so the caterers can start putting up the tent tomorrow.”

“Where would she like me to put it?”

“Someplace other than in her yard.”

“Any suggestions?”

Dallas appeared to be thinking. “You could probably leave it in one of the warehouses. Or maybe you could leave it over at Grant’s, back by the shelter. Either way would work. And it’s only for a few days.”

“I’ll think it over.”

“Think fast. The tent’s going up in the morning.” She waved and answered her ringing phone as she returned to the house.

Wade carefully lifted the sleeping boy and held him against his chest and shoulder. The trailer held everything he and Austin owned other than the things they’d needed here in St. Dennis. All the photographs Wade had taken of Robin that he’d saved for Austin, all of Austin’s baby toys, including the things Robin bought for him before he was born, before the combination of cancer and pregnancy rendered her too weak to do much of anything except sleep. And Wade’s notebooks, where he’d jotted down the formulas
for some of the best beer he’d ever tasted. He hated the thought of leaving those precious items anyplace where he couldn’t see them.

He wondered if he’d have time to clean out enough of the carriage house to fit the trailer inside.

Austin stirred, then snuggled. Wade hesitated for a moment, then went up to the house. By the time he got there, Austin was awake and ready for his morning snack.

“Why, you’re just in time,” Berry declared. “I’m having some yogurt with fresh pineapple. Who’d like to join me?”

“Me would.” Without prompting, Austin climbed into his chair, and Berry took the chair next to him.

“You hold the bowls for me, and I’ll do the scooping,” she said.

“Scoop.” Austin laughed. “Steppie.”

“Ah, you clever child.” Berry beamed and turned to Wade, who stood in the doorway. “See how he quickly he made that connection?”

“He’s clever, all right,” Wade agreed. “Especially where ice cream is concerned.”

“Eem.” Austin’s word for ice cream.

“After your nap we’ll go for ice cream, ace,” Wade told him. “Right now, have a snack with Aunt Berry.” He turned to Berry. “Would you mind if I tried to make some room in the carriage house for the trailer? I hate to leave it anyplace off the property.”

“If you can do so by tomorrow, dear. The caterers—”

“Dallas told me they’d be here in the morning.” He frowned. “Why do we need tents for the party, anyway?
Why don’t we have the party in here, in the house?”

Berry burned him with The Look. “Seriously, Wade? Picture several hundred people—most of them strangers to me—running amok in this house.”

“I doubt if Dallas’s friends would be running a—”

“My house, my rules. No strangers in the house. Which is why I insisted on hiring security for the weekend.” She turned back to the task of preparing yogurt sundaes for herself and Austin.

“Security? As in guards?”

“Absolutely. You haven’t been in the business, dear, so I forgive your naïveté. With the guests will come the reporters—print and TV—and with them will come hordes of paparazzi and every form of gatecrasher you could possibly imagine. I won’t have those people trampsing all over my property.”

“Do you mean trampling?”

“No, I mean
trampsing
, as in ‘trampsing about.’ ”

Wade smiled. It must be a Berryism. “So how do you intend to keep the interlopers out?”

“Invitations must be shown at the door, and they will be scrutinized for authenticity and the names checked against the final list. No invitation? Name not on the list? No admittance.”

“How do you determine whether or not the invitations are authentic?”

Berry smiled. “Dallas personally numbered them in a most discreet manner. On the back of the invitations there’s an ink sketch of the Chesapeake with a boat heading toward the sunset. The side of the boat bears a number. That’s the number of the invitation.”

“What about the river?” he asked. “Have you
thought about people who might try to sneak in from that direction?”

“Yes, dear, but there will be security around the dock area.” Berry smiled. “Besides, if anyone tries to sneak in from the river, their wet clothes will give them away.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to just to have a party.” Wade got a fork and stabbed a piece of pineapple. “I’d never have a party if I had to go to all that trouble.”

“When you’re world famous for making your beer, and people are clamoring for your attention, we’ll have this discussion again.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” He ate the pineapple and went out to the carriage house.

Once inside, he started taking a mental inventory of its contents. Old tractors, once used for cutting the grass, he supposed, before Berry hired a lawn-care service. A couple of canoes, a rowboat, garden implements, old sleds, and several pairs of old ice skates—men’s and women’s—that hung upon one of the vertical beams. Old furniture—chairs, tables, Victorian-era settees that had been stripped of their cushions and upholstery—sat in stacks throughout the large space. It was a stunning array of accumulated stuff that no one had used in at least a quarter century if not more.

“I don’t know what she’s keeping all this stuff for,” Wade muttered as he maneuvered around.

Toward the back wall he found some empty space, enough to contain a lot of the items closer to the door. He debated whether it would be easier to simply move the front items to the back or move everything back by ten feet. In the end, given the amount of time
he had to work with, he’d carry the canoes and roll some of the wheelbarrows—really, Berry? Five of them?—and hopefully, he’d have enough room to back the trailer into the carriage house.

He’d stood one of the canoes up against the wall and was returning for a second when his shirt was snagged by a skate blade hanging from one of the posts. As he carefully disengaged the fabric from the blade, he noticed the carving on the post:
A B C
. Funny, he thought. Was someone practicing writing the alphabet or practicing their skill with a knife?

It took him most of the afternoon, but he succeeded in clearing the way with room to spare. He was in the process of detaching the trailer from the back of the Jeep when Berry showed up with Austin at her side.

“I hope you didn’t break anything,” she said as she peered inside the building. “Or bury things so that I can’t get to them if I need something.”

“Berry, when was the last time you needed something out of there?” he asked.

“Immaterial.” She dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “If I want something, I need to be able to get to it.”

“If you want something that you can’t get to, I’ll get it for you,” he promised.

“Easy for you to say, since you won’t be around.”

“When you need something from the carriage house that you can’t find, I’ll come back and find it for you.”

“Damn right you will.”

He was about to ask Berry if she’d learned her alphabet
by carving letters on the post, but Austin interrupted by reminding him of the promise of ice cream after his nap.

“Let me get cleaned up and I’ll take you,” Wade told him.

“I’ll come along, if you don’t mind,” Berry said. “I’d love to see what Steffie has this week. You know she’s making something special for Dallas’s party, and Grant says …”

Berry chatted all the way to the kitchen and all the way into town and while Wade parked the Jeep in the big lot behind Scoop. Something about all the upcoming social events must have loosened her tongue, Wade thought as they walked into the shop, because he couldn’t remember her ever talking so much.

“… and so I told Olivia that I thought the pumpkins were a lovely idea.” Berry tapped Wade on the arm. “Don’t you agree, dear?”

Wade nodded. “I do.”

“You fake. You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said since you locked up the carriage house.” Berry walked past him and went directly to the cooler. “Well, then, Austin, what shall it be today …?”

Wade held Austin up to the counter while trying to see into the back room when someone, abruptly, closed the door from the inside.

“What looks good to you, Ms. Townsend?” Tina asked.

“Everything looks good, Tina. It always does.” Berry scanned the contents of the case. “I think the young master here will have a small scoop of chocolate in a dish. I’ll have the maple pecan.” She turned to Wade. “And for you, dear?”

“I’ll go with the chocolate.”

After they’d been served and Wade was at the cash register, he asked, “Is Steffie around?”

“She’s tied up right now,” Tina replied without looking up from the register. “Did you need to speak with her?”

“Just wanted to say hi.”

“I’ll let her know.” Tina handed Wade his change with a smile.

“Thanks.”

Odd, he thought, when he stopped in the following afternoon, that she was still tied up. He made sure to include Olive Street on his nightly run, but there were no lights on in Stef’s house. Odder still, she was not available the following day when he took Cody and Austin for ice cream.

“Is Stef in?” he asked Claire.

“She’s in but she doesn’t want to be disturbed,” Claire told him.

“Could you just tell her that Wade was asking for her?”

“Sure.” Claire smiled.

She was busy again on Thursday when he called and left a message, and she wasn’t around Friday after dinner, either. Too busy to return a call? Too busy to stick her head out the door and just say hi? What the hell?

He almost caught up with her on Saturday. He was in the kitchen giving Austin lunch when he looked out the window and saw her talking to one of the caterers. He watched as several of the young guys on the crew helped her unload coolers from the back of her car and place them into one of the portable freezers
on two of their trucks. He wanted to run out to catch her before she left, but by the time Austin had finished eating, she was gone.

It wasn’t until he was getting dressed for the party that it occurred to him that she was avoiding him. He tried to dismiss the thought, but it wouldn’t leave. Why would she be annoyed with him? It wasn’t as if he …

He paused, thinking back to the previous Saturday night. Forgetting for a moment that he was acutely aware that he hadn’t seen Steffie since he’d closed the car door and watched her drive away that night, he went over the scene in the parking lot. The chitchat. The embrace. The kissing before his conscience got the best of him and reminded him not to start something he wasn’t going to be around to finish. What, he wondered as he looked out the window and saw the first of Dallas’s guests arrive, had been wrong with that?

Steffie could hear the band from the street, and it was really rocking. She wondered what the neighbors must be thinking. But of course most of the neighbors had known Dallas since she was a girl and were probably all partying just as she would be in another moment or two.