The Chesapeake Diaries Series (135 page)

He wandered over and took a paper cup of punch, more for something to do than anything else, and stood to one side as other residents—some in costume—arrived. He greeted those he knew and smiled at those he didn’t, though it occurred to him that he seemed to know almost everyone. He waved at Clay when he came in with the boys, and figured Brooke couldn’t be too far behind.

“Hey, Mr. Enright.” Logan waved his sword back and forth. A loose strip of foil fluttered from the handle. “Do you think me and Cody will win a prize? We think we’ll win a prize.”

“I think there’s a very good chance that you could.” Jesse nodded. “You were far and away the best pirates I saw all day.”

“I told you.” Cody gave Logan a whack on the arm with his sword, the blade of which had apparently given a few too many such whacks, as evidenced by the fact that hardly any foil remained to cover the cardboard. Neither boy appeared to notice.

“Cody, your mom and Grant just came in,” Clay told him. “Why don’t you go over and let them know that we’re here?”

The two boys took off across the room, dodging a few senior citizens who looked askance at their antics.

“Oh, to be eight again, and to be at the Halloween ball,” Clay said.

“Were the refreshments any better when you were a kid?” Jesse asked.

Clay shook his head. “Same punch recipe since the place was founded. I think there’s a clause in the contract that says it has to be served at every event held here. And the cookies all have to be burned on the bottom. Another tradition,” he explained.

“Looks like tradition’s safe for another year.”

“So Brooke tells me you’re writing a letter to Jason Bowers about that business Eric bankrolled.”

“Already sent it.”

“Jace reply yet?”

“Too soon,” Jesse told him. “It was only mailed on Thursday. You know him?”

Clay nodded. “Sure. He was Eric’s brother.”

“What’s he like?”

“Good guy. I’m surprised he hasn’t kept Brooke in the loop a little better, but I don’t think he’d cheat her or Logan out of anything.”

“That’s pretty much what she said. She told me he had broached the subject after her husband died and she brushed him off because it was something else she couldn’t deal with.”

“It was a bad time for everyone,” Clay said simply.

“Anyway, I kept the letter pretty light, more of a gentle inquiry.”

“That’s good. Glad you’re helping her. She needs to get all that straightened out for Logan’s sake.”

The two boys came racing back, swords in one hand, paper cups of punch in the other.

“Slow down,” Clay told them. “And watch so that the punch doesn’t spill.”

The boys immediately stopped running and took very small, slow steps.

“Do you have kids of your own?” Jesse asked.

Clay shook his head. “Logan’s the only kid I’ve ever been around all that much. I’m going to miss him like crazy when he and Brooke move.”

“They’re moving?” Jesse felt stunned. “Brooke is moving? Away from St. Dennis?”

“Relax,” Clay told him. “They’re moving into a small house on the farm.” He studied Jesse’s face for a moment, then said, “Don’t let her see that.”

“See what?”

“What I just saw in your face when you thought she might be leaving town.”

“It’s that obvious?”

Clay nodded. “Keep it under wraps, my friend.”

“Hello, boys.” Grace buzzed into the room and paused on her way to the stage, where, Jesse assumed, she might be looking for photos for her newspaper.

“Miss Grace, I heard a rumor that Lucy might be coming back in a few days,” Clay said.

“Yes, indeed, she is. She’ll be consulting with Dallas and Steffie about their big wedding plans. With any luck, they’ll convince her to come back to handle the entire day. Should keep her home for a while, anyway.” Grace smiled. “One can hope.”

“Did she say how long she’d be staying?” To Jesse’s eye, Clay appeared to be acting a little too nonchalant. “Would you tell her I said hi? And ask her to give me a call if she gets a few minutes?”

“I certainly will, dear. Now, I must hustle if I’m to get the photos I want. They’ve brought the queen in through the back door and they’re going to introduce her soon.”

“Who’s Lucy?” Jesse asked after Grace had scurried away.

“Grace’s daughter. We went all through school together, from kindergarten right through senior year of high school. We used to be best friends.”

“What happened?” Jesse thought back on Clay’s previous advice about Brooke. “Let me guess. You asked her out and the minute she thought you were interested she shut you out.”

Clay seemed oblivious to the reference. He shook his head and said, “Nah. I guess we just grew apart.”

“Maybe you’ll see her next week.”

“That would be awkward. We haven’t seen each other since the week after we graduated from high school. She went on some summer study thing to London, came back, and left for college in Colorado. Went into business in L.A. I heard she was home from time to time but never for more than a few days.”

“So maybe she’ll call when she’s here,” Jesse told him.

“To tell you the truth—”

The mayor walked across the stage, tested the microphone, and called for everyone’s attention. The crowd that had hugged the sides of the room all drifted forward and to the middle as introductions were made. The various committees were thanked, the merchants who had donated prizes and who had closed their shops for the morning to permit the festivities to close off the main street for three blocks were thanked, and it seemed to Jesse at one point that everyone had been thanked except Clay and him. And then Clay was thanked for donating the apples for the apple bobbing.

It was hard not to smile, Jesse was thinking, when you realized that some of those small-town clichés had become clichés for a reason.

Next, it was announced that Brooke had been crowned this year’s queen, and still wearing her jeans and sweatshirt—the chocolate stain seemed to have disappeared—Brooke joined the mayor on the stage to applause. A litany of all her volunteer work was read off, followed by a moment of silence to honor the service of her husband and all of the men and women from the Eastern Shore who had served their country.

“And now, for her first official duty, our Halloween queen will present the prizes for the best costumes and the best performances from this morning’s parade.” Mayor Christina Pratt handed the microphone to Brooke, who took it with one hand while balancing a handful of large index cards in the other. There was much laughter and applause as one after another winner was brought to the stage and presented with a small trophy, even when the queen’s son and his friend were announced. The two boys ran onto the stage, said polite thank-yous, then grabbed their trophies gleefully and ran back off.

“Uncle Clay! Look! We won!” Logan headed for Clay and Cody took off for his mother.

“I am not surprised. You two did a great job. Now go find your grandmother and show her your very cool trophy. She’s over there by the punch table with Mrs. Engle.”

Cody dashed off, his trophy held high.

“Hey, Clay.” A pretty dark-haired woman strolled by and slowed down to smile at Clay.

“Hi, Mary Ellen,” Clay replied.

“What’s this I’m hearing about you starting up a brewery? Are you finished with farming?” she asked.

“No, I’m doing both …”

Jesse drifted closer to the stage, his hands in his pants pockets. In spite of her initial reluctance, it appeared that Brooke had taken to her role and was performing her obligations with a smile.

“And now, for her second official duty, our queen will lead off the first dance.” Mayor Pratt turned to Brooke. “Who’s your partner, honey? You want to dance with your brother?”

“No, I think I want to dance with …” Brooke looked over the crowd, until her eyes met Jesse’s. “I think I want to dance with my lawyer tonight. Jesse Enright.”

“Jesse Enright it is … assuming he’s here.”

“Oh, he’s here.” Brooke smiled and came down off the stage, and Jesse met her halfway.

She slipped into his arms as the recorded music began to play a slowed-down version of “I Put a Spell on You.”

“I guess this is what passes for Halloween music in St. Dennis,” he said as he pulled her close.

“It was this or ‘Monster Mash.’ ” She shrugged. “Which you’ll hear later if you hang around long enough. I saw the playlist.”

Jesse chuckled. “That’s a tough tune to slow-dance to.”

“Which is why I asked for this one.” She sighed and leaned into him, her cheek resting comfortably against the side of his jaw.

“You know, I never danced with a queen before.”

“First time for everything.”

“So, what should I call you now?”

“Hmm. Good question.” Her head tilted back and she looked into his eyes. “I am now royalty, and you … well, you are not. So I’m thinking you should probably address me as … Brooke.”

Holding her had felt so right to him that he hadn’t realized the song had ended and was followed immediately by “Thriller.” She broke their hold and stepped away, but kept her hand on his arm.

“Sorry,” she said. “I cannot do that ‘Thriller’ dance.”

“So how are you feeling about all this now?” he asked to keep her close.

“I feel a lot better. Jesse, I can’t thank you enough for the pep talk you gave me. What you said stayed with me all afternoon. I looked for you at Scoop but there were so many people there.”

“I did follow the rest of the crowd down there but it was impossible to get near the place.”

“So what did you do?”

“I went home, watched the Alabama-Florida game and ate leftover spaghetti.”

“Warm or cold?”

“Cold,” he admitted.

“Then I owe you dinner.” She edged a little bit closer. “As a thank-you.”

Jesse’s heart began to race. Was she flirting with him?

“Hey, Brooke.” Clay appeared with Logan who held up his trophy for Jesse to admire. “I’m taking the kid home. He’s getting a little crazy now.”

Brooke looked up at the clock over the front door.
“I guess he is. It’s almost nine, past his bedtime.” She looked hesitant. “I think it’s too soon for me to go, though. I think I need to stay until ten.”

“You’re right. You’re still queen for another hour. But he”—Clay pointed to Logan, who was trying to balance his trophy on the top of his head—“isn’t going to last.”

“I can probably get a ride home with Mom,” she said.

Clay shook his head. “She’s going to Captain Walt’s for drinks with her girlfriends.”

Brooke grabbed the trophy as it was about to topple.

“I’ll drive you home,” Jesse offered casually, as if he hadn’t been waiting all day to be alone with her.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Brooke asked.

“Not at all,” he assured her.

“Well, then, come here, Logan, and give me a hug.” Brooke stepped around Jesse and opened her arms to her son. While she was giving him instructions—“Don’t give Uncle Clay a hard time. Brush your teeth super-long tonight because you ate a lot of sugary things today”—Clay leaned over and said from the corner of his mouth, “Be strong, buddy. From where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve got her on the ropes. I think she’s interested. But don’t give in yet. Let her make the first move. Stick to the plan, like I told you.”

“Clay, she’s your sister. I don’t think we should be discussing—”

“Trust me. You gotta turn the tables on her.”

“… and you can have popcorn if your uncle feels like making it.” Brooke kissed Logan on the top of his head and stood up. “It’s up to him.”

“Can we make popcorn when we get home?” Logan jumped up and down.

“Maybe.” Clay put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and steered him toward the door. “See you later. And thanks, Jesse, for offering to bring Brooke home.”

Jesse nodded and watched Clay make his way to the door.

The next hour passed in a blur. Brooke’s hand remained resting on his arm as they made their way around the room. Brooke introduced Jesse to some of her old classmates, most of whom seemed to bear no animosity to her. Well, there were a few women whose smiles hadn’t seemed totally genuine, and whose “We really need to get together’s” didn’t sound all that sincere. But for the most part, Jesse thought that Brooke’s earlier fears had been unwarranted, and she said as much on the way home.

“You were right, you know? About everything.” Brooke had curled up in the passenger seat and turned so that she was facing him. “For the most part, everyone was really, really nice.” She made a face. “Except for Angela Lampisi and Courtney Mason. Apparently neither of them has gotten over high school. And I say, if Dallas MacGregor can get over it, they should be able to, too.”

“Were you mean to Dallas when you were kids?”

“Every chance I got. We were both in love with Grant. He was in love with her, but she left at the end of the summer and the rest of us threw ourselves on him all through the school year. Then summer would come and Dallas would come back, and Grant—and
half of the guys in St. Dennis—would be deaf and blind to the rest of us girls.”

“You seem to be good friends now,” he observed.

“The best. We’ve made our peace,” she told him. “But Dallas grew up and some of the others don’t seem to have.”

“But all in all, it was a good day and night for you.”

“All in all, it was terrific.”

“I’m glad.”

He put on his right turn signal and pulled into the lane leading up to the Madison farmhouse.

“Clay mentioned that you were moving,” he said to keep the conversation going.

“Just to the tenant house back there by the orchard, and not until we get some work done. I think it’ll be perfect. The views are beautiful from every window. The orchard, the woods, the fields, the pond …”

“There’s a pond back there?” He parked near the side of the house.

Brooke nodded. “You can’t see it from the road and it’s not real big, but it’s there. I’ll take you back and show you sometime.”

He nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”

There was a moment of silence, which he had to fill. He didn’t want to think about what he wanted to be doing with her in the front seat of his little sports car.