Read The Chesapeake Diaries Series Online
Authors: Mariah Stewart
“That doesn’t necessarily mean she’s chasing after him.” Berry picked up a glass and tasted the tea. “Perfect.”
“Steffie seemed to think so.”
“But for all Steffie knows, Brooke could be there at Grant’s request.” Berry slipped her feet out of her sandals. “Perhaps it was Grant’s idea that Brooke study to become his assistant.” She made her way out back in her bare feet.
“Coming, dear?” Berry called over her shoulder.
“I think I’m going to work in the library.”
“Do listen for the doorbell,” Berry said over her shoulder.
Dallas went into the library, leaving the door open so she could hear the bell. She turned on her laptop and found the place where she’d been working earlier. She typed four or five words, then stopped. She wondered what Brooke looked like these days. Not that it mattered, but still, Dallas was curious. Twenty years ago, she’d been the acknowledged beauty queen in Grant’s class. Everyone said so back then. Was she still? Not that it mattered.
She resumed typing, then stopped.
It would make sense for Brooke to come back to St. Dennis after her husband’s death. Her family home was here. Hadn’t her mother mentioned that she and Brooke both had tried staying in—where had it been? Myrtle Beach?—after both their husbands passed away, but in time they needed to come back here.
Well, of course. It’s where their ties are. It all makes sense
.
Dallas typed another few sentences.
What a coincidence, though, that Brooke and Grant both returned to St. Dennis around the same time
.
It had been a coincidence, hadn’t it?
She supposed there was always the chance they’d been in touch. Maybe he’d heard about Brooke’s husband’s death and maybe called or sent a card of sympathy. Then maybe they’d corresponded for a while, maybe they even got together a time or two, before …
The ringing doorbell brought Dallas back to reality.
“Overactive imagination,” she grumbled as she went to answer the door.
Dallas would have known Brooke anywhere. She hadn’t changed a bit … from her Meg Ryan curly hair to her off-the-shoulder top and miniskirt, Brooke just screamed “Class of 1990.”
“Hi.” Dallas fixed her best smile on her face and opened the door. “Come on in.”
“Hi.” Brooke appeared to give Dallas the same once-over that Dallas had given her.
“The boys are out back.” Dallas started to lead the way through the house, then realized Brooke hadn’t moved. “We’ll go this way. It’s faster.”
“I heard you were back,” Brooke said.
“Well, yes. This is my family home,” Dallas said.
“I heard about your husband.”
“You and about three hundred million other people.” Dallas tried to force that smile again.
“It really sucks. I mean, to be able to turn on your computer and see your own husband screwing someone else.” Brooke’s eyes narrowed. “It must really suck.”
“Yeah, well, it happens.” Dallas shrugged and started to turn again.
“And then you have to see it everywhere,” Brooke continued. “Every magazine, every tabloid.”
It was then Dallas realized that Brooke held a rolled-up newspaper under her arm. She hadn’t seen a tabloid or a gossip magazine since she’d arrived in St. Dennis, but her instincts told her exactly what Brooke had in her hand.
“That’s not funny, Brooke,” Dallas said softly. “I came here to protect my son from seeing that sort of thing. I’ll ask you to put it in your handbag now.”
“I thought you’d want to see.” Brooke unfolded it. The headline read,
THE MANY WOMEN OF EMILIO BLAIR SPEAK OUT!
“I’ll get Logan. You can meet him out front.” Dallas opened the front door. Brooke simply walked through it without a word.
Her legs shaking, her knees weak with anger, Dallas composed herself enough to go out back and call the boys.
“Do you have your library book, Logan?” she asked with as much calm as she could muster.
Don’t take it out on him
, she told herself.
It isn’t his fault that his mother’s a bitch
.
“I left it in the kitchen,” he told her.
“Let’s go back through the house, then.” Dallas held the door open and the two boys and the now-ever-present dog all but fell through it. Logan picked up his book and the boys headed for the front door.
Dallas stayed in the kitchen, still trying to compose herself.
“Mom, aren’t you going to come outside with
Logan and say hi to his mom?” Cody called from the foyer.
“I already said hi to his mom.”
“But you said it’s rude to not go outside when your company is leaving,” he reminded her. “You said it was a rule.”
Dallas hesitated. She had made that rule. She had said it was rude. At that moment, she didn’t care.
But what she did care about was the possibility that Brooke might flash that headline where Cody could see it. Her anger barely under control, Dallas followed the boys onto the front porch and down the steps.
“Did you thank Mrs. Blair for having you?” Dallas heard Brooke say as Logan climbed into the backseat.
“It’s MacGregor,” Dallas said. “Ms. MacGregor.”
Logan’s look was one of confusion when he looked up into Dallas’s face.
“My mom’s name is MacGregor because she’s a movie star,” Cody explained, and Dallas guessed that was why he thought she’d kept her last name. “No one ever calls her Mrs. Blair. And besides, they’re divorced.”
Dallas leaned into the car and met Brooke’s eyes through the opening between the front seats, as if daring her to hold up the tabloid.
Brooke’s face went beet red.
“I’m sorry. Of course, it’s Ms. MacGregor.” Still looking at Dallas, she said, “Thank Ms. MacGregor for having you.”
“Thank you, Ms. MacGregor, for having me.” Logan was all sincerity. “And for taking me for ice cream and letting me play all day.”
“You’re very welcome, Logan. You’re welcome back anytime.” Dallas broke the stare-down and backed out of the car and closed the door.
“Yay!” Cody shouted. “You can come back anytime!”
“Say good-bye, Cody.” Dallas put a hand on her son’s shoulder and stepped back from the car.
“Bye, Logan. I’ll see you tomorrow …” Cody waved until the car rolled onto River Road.
“Cody, take Fleur inside and get her a drink of water. She might be hot from being out here in the heat for so long.”
“I’m hot from being out here in the heat, too. I think I need a drink of water, too.”
“Go on in, then.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“In a minute.”
“Okay.” Cody ran up the steps and disappeared into the house.
Dallas sat on the top step and wondered what the hell had just happened. Her mind still trying to make sense of it, she took the long way to the backyard, around the far side of the house, hoping to avoid conversation with Berry before she cooled off.
Dallas had been the object of gossip and mean-spirited remarks over the years, from one source or another, but she’d never experienced such out-and-out cruelty before.
What, she asked herself, would possess someone to do what Brooke had just done?
Diary ~
Whew! It’s been a hectic week! We had an unprecedented number of ads to run in the current issue of the
Gazette
, and so many activities and events to cover over the past week, I could barely keep up! Times like this I think perhaps it’s time to sell the paper, but then, what would I do with myself? Boss everyone around at the Inn, I suppose. The truth is, I need the paper as much as the tourists need it. I think of “retire” as a four-letter word
.
I ran into Dallas at Scoop several days ago—I really must remember to check my schedule and get back to her about a date and time for the interview she promised me. I did pry several bits of news from her, but nothing I can use in the paper. Except that she’s decided to make St. Dennis her summer home till Labor Day. I do know that Berry takes Cody to the library every day for the children’s story hour, which Berry says she enjoys as much as Cody does. I’m wondering if Dallas realizes how much she and the boy mean to her great-aunt. I hope she does. Berry has always been spry and lively, but I swear, having Dallas and Cody here has put a little extra zing in her step. I haven’t seen her this happy in years. Not since she and Archer … well, we all know how long ago that was. I wonder if she’s aware that he’s now a widower.…
Anyway. Dallas had her son and Brooke Madison’s boy with her at Scoop. They say that Brooke’s late husband was a fine young man, but I only met him at the wedding and only remember him as having been quite good-looking and head over heels over Brooke. And of course, he was a hero, having given his life to serve his country. Now, the word according to Steffie Wyler is that Brooke came back to St. Dennis because of Grant—Steffie says Brooke has had a crush on him for as long as Steffie can remember. She says that Brooke’s son, Logan, told her that his mother was going to school to learn to be a veterinary assistant so that she could work for Grant. Well, Steffie and I tried to warn Dallas without spelling it out, but perhaps we were a bit too subtle. However, I was not the only person who noticed that Dallas’s face turned pink at the very mention of his name. Steffie is of the opinion that Grant has never gotten over Dallas. So—we shall see!
Speaking of confidences: Dallas has sworn me to secrecy, but she’s working on a screenplay based on a book for which she’s trying to buy the film rights! How exciting! What a story—but alas, my lips have been sealed!
~ Grace ~
Chapter 13
The question continued to nag Dallas through a mostly sleepless night, and by morning, had morphed from
Why would Brooke have done such a thing?
to
Why is it bothering me so much?
She’d hesitated to bring it up to Berry, because Dallas thought it sounded too much like whining
(Brooke said a mean thing to me)
but in the end, she tossed it out there because she needed to talk about it and the only other person around was Cody.
Dallas recounted the story while she and Berry sat at the table on the back porch, drinking their morning coffee and watching a great blue heron swoop majestically around the river’s bend.
“Ahhhh, he’s back. I was starting to worry about him. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. I’ve missed him.” Berry pointed to the bird that was flying six feet above the surface of the water and dead-on down the middle of the river. “The wingspan is breathtaking, don’t you think?”
Dallas nodded and waited for Berry to comment on her encounter with Brooke.
“Yes, he’s lovely. But, Berry—back to yesterday afternoon,” Dallas prodded.
“Oh. Yes. Brooke. The tabloid. Did she say where she bought it?”
“I think she said the market but she didn’t specify which one.”
“Well, it wasn’t Jaime’s. I was there myself this week and certainly would have noticed. So that leaves the supermarket and that new convenience store out on the highway.”
“What difference does it make where she bought it?” Dallas asked.
“If any establishment that I patronize is carrying that rubbish, there will be words.”
Dallas smiled. Who but Berry could command such loyalty?
“But back to the incident. I think the real question is why you’re losing sleep over this.” Berry finished her coffee and looked with disappointment into the empty cup.
“What makes you think I’m losing sleep?”
“If you had those dark circles under your eyes yesterday, I failed to notice. So unlike me,” Berry said drily as she refilled her cup. “But not to worry. I have some wonderful restorative cream upstairs. Make sure you use some before you leave the house again. And make sure when you put it on, you use only a dab on your middle finger.” She leaned closer to Dallas to demonstrate her technique. “Dab under the eye, don’t rub, and I guarantee—”
“But why make a point of waving that paper in my face? ‘Emilio Blair’s Women Speak Out!’ Or whatever nonsense. As if there are so many of them lined up
just dying to talk.” Dallas paused to consider what she’d just said, then sighed. “Oh, of course they are, what am I saying? Doesn’t everyone want those fifteen minutes they feel they’re entitled to?”
“Well, at least Brooke made you aware of the story,” Berry pointed out.
“That makes me feel so much better toward her.”
“It might come in handy when Norma goes to court. A little more fuel for the fire.”
“That fire is very well fueled, thank you. And you sound as if you’re okay with what Brooke did.”
“Not at all. I’m merely pointing out that you can use this if you need it.” Berry rested her head against the back of the chair. “That it was Brooke and not someone else, that’s what’s bothering you, and you know the answer to the question as well as I do. Brooke has never forgiven you for being the girl who showed up every June and took away the boy she wanted for the entire summer.”
“So what is this, junior year all over again?”
“Of course I could be wrong and there could be some other motive.”
“What more could there be?” Dallas frowned.
“I suppose you should ask Brooke, dear.”
“I’m hoping not to see her again for the rest of the summer.”
“That won’t be possible. Unless, of course, you’re not going to permit Cody to play with Logan again.”
“I couldn’t do that. I’d never do that.” Dallas shook her head adamantly. “Logan is the closest thing to a best friend Cody’s ever had. I’ve never seen him have so much fun with another kid his age, never seen him laugh so much.”
“They do appear to be BFFs.” Berry glanced at Dallas and added, “That’s ‘best friends forever,’ dear, in case you’re a little behind on your pop culture.”
“Thanks. I got it.” Dallas took a sip of her now-cold coffee and made a face. “Logan is welcome here anytime. I’m just hoping that Cody isn’t invited to play at Logan’s anytime soon. I don’t trust Brooke not to leave that paper around for Cody to find.”
“Well then, you’re going to have to make that point very clear to Brooke, or insist that the boys play here all the time, which I don’t mind, but it doesn’t seem fair to the boys.”