The Long Way Home (11 page)

“She did. Grant Wyler is the local vet and has an animal rescue operation. If you’re thinking about adding a dog or cat—”

“I’m not,” Ellie said hastily. “No dogs, no cats. Maybe if I was staying longer, but I don’t know where I’ll be moving to, once the house is sold.”

“Well, it’s just a thought. Nice to have some furry companionship, especially on long winter nights. Always so nice to have a cat or a dog snuggled up next to you when you’re reading in front of a nice fire. We always had pets growing up, but nowadays, it seems every other person has some allergy, so living at the inn, we just can’t have animals anymore.” Grace glanced at her watch. “Oh, dear, I need to hustle. Today’s the day the ads come in for the newspaper and I’m running late. Do join us some morning for coffee. Everyone would love to get to know you better.”

“That’s very nice, but you know, I’m not going to be here very long.”
And am so not interested in anyone knowing me better
.

“That makes no difference, dear. Friends are where you find them, and sometimes you find them when you least suspect, in the oddest places at the strangest times.” Grace patted Ellie on the arm. “Perhaps one of these days, we’ll sit down together, you and I, and do an interview for my paper.”

Not while I breathe
, Ellie thought. Aloud, she said, “I’m really not a very interesting person, Grace.”

“Everyone is interesting in their own way. Sometimes we just don’t recognize it in ourselves.” Grace opened the door, then stopped short. “Oh, for heaven’s
sake, I almost forgot. In St. Dennis, we celebrate First Families Day. It’s always the third Sunday in November, and it’s to honor those determined folks who first settled here and stayed long enough to start the town. I hope you’ll join us for the little celebration.”

“What exactly do you do?” Ellie asked, curious in spite of her determination to remain detached.

“Oh, we have the obligatory speeches on the square down on Old St. Mary’s Church Road, there’s always a reenactment of some sort—last year we chose the attempted shelling of the town by the British during the War of 1812—and then we have a dinner at the Grange Hall. Everyone in town attends, but over the past few years, we see more and more ‘summer people’ coming back for the weekend. Which of course is good news for the inn and the B and Bs. You should join us. I think you’d find it to be an interesting day.”

“Thank you for mentioning it. I’ll certainly think about it.”

“Do. It would be especially fitting to have you with us this year.”

When Ellie raised a questioning eyebrow, Grace added, “Because this house has a connection to our early history, and to some people we were so fond of. It’s up to you, of course, if you’re free. I’ll have a ticket put aside for you, just in case you decide to join us.”

Grace hurried down the steps and onto the path that led to her car, waving over her shoulder as she went. Ellie waited until Grace’s car backed out of the driveway and passed by before closing the door. She’d been about to ask Grace about the Ryders’ connection to the town history while at the same time trying
to think of a way to politely decline the ticket, but the woman was gone before Ellie could get her mouth open.

I should have asked about my mother. I’ll bet Grace knew her. She seems to know everyone in town. And I should have asked more about the pirates
. Ellie shook her head.
Pirates indeed. Sounds like something Grace made up to sell newspapers
.

She put Grace’s welcoming gifts in the kitchen then went back into the dining room and began to empty the sideboard, where she found some of what she assumed was Lilly Cavanaugh’s silver, though not the candelabras Grace had spoken of. Not surprisingly, every piece she uncovered needed a good polishing. Silver polish was one thing she hadn’t thought to pick up at the market, so she’d have to make a trip.

“Just as well,” she muttered. “I am getting a little stir-crazy here.”

She changed out of the sweatshirt she’d been cleaning in and slipped on a sweater that was a little more presentable and ran a brush through her hair. Her mother had always impressed upon her the importance of making a nice appearance.

“Even,” Lynley had told her, “when you don’t feel like it or you don’t think it will matter.”

Or
, Ellie thought,
even when you don’t know anyone who might possibly care what you look like
.

Of course, her mother had been a natural beauty and the chances of Lynley making anything but a great appearance were pretty slim. She thought about Cameron’s remark, about how Lynley was beautiful even when she was ill, and the thought warmed her.

She stopped at the market and bought silver polish
and a few other things she needed, then on her way back home, made an impulsive right turn onto Kelly’s Point Road and parked behind One Scoop or Two, the local ice-cream shop she’d heard so much about. A little change in routine would be nice, she told herself as she got out of the car. She’d get a cone and walk along the water, maybe go as far as the marina and look at the boats that were still in the water. It was a beautiful day with lots of sunshine and no breeze off the Bay, and who knew how many more such days there would be?

The shop appeared empty when she entered, but the ringing bell over the door brought a tall woman from the back. She wore a Baltimore Ravens cap over honey-blond hair and an old sweatshirt very similar to the one Ellie had changed out of.

“Hi,” the woman greeted Ellie. “What can I get for you?”

Ellie scanned the blackboard on which the day’s flavors were written.

“Gosh, I don’t know. There are so many choices.” Ellie read the list a second time. “You make all these yourself?”

The blonde nodded. “I do. All in my little back room here. Today’s new-flavor testing day.” She pulled at the front of her sweatshirt where a smear of chocolate and something red could be seen.

“I feel so silly.” Ellie laughed self-consciously. “I can’t make up my mind.”

“Want a taste of what I’m working on while you decide?” Without waiting for an answer, the woman disappeared into the back room, then came back
holding a cardboard cup and a spoon. “Here. Try this.”

She loaded up the spoon and passed it over the counter to Ellie, who obediently ate it.

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing.” Ellie’s eyes widened. “What’s in it?”

“It’s a white chocolate ice-cream base, with cranberries and chocolate chunks.”

“This is truly amazing. I’ll buy a cone of this, if you have enough.”

“Finish what you have there in the dish, but I don’t really have enough to sell yet. Right now it’s still in the testing stage.”

“It’s so good,” Ellie told her, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“A good endorsement, thanks. I wanted something really special for the holidays.”

“I think you’ve got it.” Ellie finished off the small dish then went back to the board. “If that’s a sample of your work, I have to say, I’ve never had better ice cream.”

“Thanks.” The shop owner blushed modestly. “It’s really a labor of love.”

“I’m going to try the apple cinnamon raisin, I think.”

“Excellent choice. That’s a big favorite. One of the first ice creams I ever made.”

“What made you decide to make ice cream, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ellie watched as the woman scooped the selected ice cream into a dish.

“I don’t mind at all. When I was little, one of my grandmother’s cousins used to make ice cream for us in one of those old crank things?” She smiled at the
memory. “He used to let me turn the crank. Then, as I got older, he let me add things, and it just went from there to me making up the flavors. It’s really all I ever wanted to do.” She handed Ellie the dish. “Oh, I should have asked you if you wanted a cone.”

“This is fine.” Ellie met her at the cash register and was counting out change when the bell over the door rang again.

“Oh, look who’s here!” The shopkeeper clapped her hands. “Aunt Steffie’s favorite baby girl and her mama.”

Ellie turned to see a pretty dark-haired woman struggling to get a stroller through the door. She left her dish and bag on the counter and went to help.

“Oh, thank you.” The baby’s mama flashed a smile. “The door doesn’t stay open long enough to get the stroller in.” She pulled the stroller over the threshold and parked it at the closest table, then turned it around.

Ellie looked down into the face of one of the prettiest babies she’d ever seen.

“With all that pink, I’m going out on a limb and guessing a girl,” Ellie said.

“I know, right?” The mother laughed good-naturedly. “Pink blanket, pink hat, pink clothes …”

“You’re such a girl, Vanessa.” The shop owner came around the counter and crouched in front of the stroller. “How’s Aunt Steffie’s doll baby today?”

“She’s teething.” The mother—Vanessa, apparently—settled into a chair. “She’s been a very unhappy girl for the past few days because of it.”

“Well, she certainly looks happy now. Because she loves her aunt Steffie best, isn’t that right, sweet pea?”
Steffie unstrapped the baby’s restraints and lifted her from the stroller.

“What’s your baby’s name?” Ellie heard herself asking. She was still at the counter, waiting to pay for her ice cream, a fact that the shop owner apparently forgot.

“Penelope Jane, but we call her Poppy.” The baby’s mother turned to address Ellie.

“That’s adorable, and so is she.”

“Thank you. We’re pretty sure we’re going to keep her.”

“Aunt Steffie will keep her if you decide to the contrary.” The shopkeeper held the baby up in the air, and the baby laughed. “Poppy can’t wait until she’s old enough for ice cream. And when she is, she’ll have a flavor named just for her. We’ll call it … Poppy Pink. Which reminds, me, Ness, I have a new flavor for you to try.” She handed the baby to her mother, then gestured to Ellie and said, “We’ve had one big thumbs-up here so far.”

“It’s excellent,” Ellie said.

“Of course it is. All of Steffie’s ice creams are amazing. But sure,” the dark-haired woman said. “I’m always up for a new flavor. What’s this one called?”

“I don’t have a name for it yet.”

Before the shop owner could disappear into the back, Ellie said, “Excuse me, but I haven’t paid for my ice cream.”

“In one second.” She continued on her way into the back room, then a moment later returned with a small dish and spoon like the ones she’d given Ellie, and handed it to her friend. “I’m sorry,” she apologized
to Ellie. “I totally lose my head when Vanessa brings Poppy to see me.”

“Totally understandable,” Ellie assured her.

The bell rang again, and a stack of white boxes appeared a second before Brooke did.

“Let me help you with those.” Vanessa was out of her seat in a flash to grab the top box before it toppled off the pile.

“Thanks, Ness. I wanted to drop off what I have available now because for the rest of the week, I’ll be baking nonstop for Sunday, and I’m not sure if I’ll …” Brooke turned to close the door behind her and at the same time, saw Ellie. “Oh, Hey! Ellie! Good to see you again.”

The two other women turned to look questioningly at Ellie.

“Hi, Brooke. Nice to see you, too.”

Brooke turned to the other two women. “Have you met Ellie?”

“Not officially.” The shopkeeper stepped around from the back of the counter and extended a hand in Ellie’s direction, which necessitated Ellie’s putting down the spoon and meeting the tall blonde halfway. “I’m Steffie MacGregor. The pretty mama of the world’s most adorable girl is Vanessa Shields.”

“Ellie, nice to meet you.” Vanessa put down the boxes. “Any friend of Brooke’s, and all that.”

“Ellie just moved to St. Dennis,” Brooke went on to explain. “She bought Lilly Cavanaugh’s house and is fixing it up.”

“I didn’t know it was for sale. I love that house.” Steffie’s eyes lit up. “You’re so lucky!”

“It is a great house,” Ellie admitted.

“Which house is that?” Vanessa placed the white box on the counter.

“You know. The one I told you about. The one where the light keeper used to live out on Bay View Road.”

“The house the pirates tried to burn?” Vanessa asked.

Ellie laughed. “That’s the second time today someone mentioned pirates.”

“Pirates were a real problem on the Chesapeake in the 1700s, definitely not a laughing matter back then,” Brooke told her. “Even Blackbeard sailed the Bay.”

“Are you going to tell me that Blackbeard tried to burn my house down?”

“No, it wasn’t Blackbeard. It was that other one …” Steffie frowned. “Brooke, what was her name?”

“Her?” Ellie’s eyebrows rose.

Brooke nodded. “A woman who dressed like a man. Anne—no one really knows what her real last name was, but she called herself André Bonfille. She’d drop anchor out there in the harbor and she and some of her men would row to shore in small boats, terrorize the town until they were run out. They rarely actually hurt anyone, but they’d round up a bunch of the townspeople and then ransom them back to their families. Every few years they’d be back. No one knew this pirate was a woman until she was hanged down in North Carolina. But you’ll hear all about it on Sunday.” Brooke placed the rest of the boxes on the counter next to the cash register. “First Families Day.”

“Grace mentioned it,” Ellie told her.

“Oh, if you’re new in town, you have to come,” Vanessa said. “It’s so fun. The first year I was here, my brother made me go, even though I was thinking what a bore it would all be. But it was fun and I learned a lot. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Vanessa’s brother is Gabriel Beck, the chief of police here in town,” Steffie told Ellie.

“Oh, Chief Beck.” Ellie recalled the polite officer who knocked on her door the second night she was there. “We’ve met.”

“I’ve gone every year for as long as I can remember,” Steffie was saying, “and I wouldn’t miss it, either.”

“Me, too,” Brooke said. “Even after I moved away, I came back every year for First Families Day. It’s a little hokey small-townish, but we love it anyway.”

“I’ll try to make it.”

“You need a ticket for the dinner,” Steffie told her. “I have extras. You’re welcome to one. More, if you have someone you’d like to bring.”