A Home by the Sea (18 page)

Grace took a deep breath. She had such deep and fixed memories of this place and all the time she had spent working here with her grandfather. She knew that he had hoped she would follow in his footsteps one day and go to veterinary school, but Grace's dreams had carried her on a different path. Her grandfather had never argued with her about that choice, but she had always felt guilty that she couldn't be what he had hoped. At the least she
would see that his beloved animals were well tended until his return, whenever that might be.

For a moment she felt a lump at her throat. It had been a struggle for him to finish a sentence and impossible for him to stand up unassisted. He had so far to go.

But she pushed the dark thoughts out of her mind. He had improved steadily the past few days, and there was no reason that he wouldn't keep right on improving with good care.

Meanwhile, the animal shelter looked to be in excellent hands. Two more cars had pulled up. She saw a pair of high school students dumping trash in the back. A trio of teenage girls and their parents were cleaning out animal cages nearby, scrubbing them down with the long gloves and heavy brushes that Grace remembered from her own childhood chores. There were always chores here, always another cage to clean. It was time for her to get started.

 

I
NSIDE
,
EVERY ROOM
was full of volunteers tackling the hard jobs that came with caring for almost seventy animals. She recognized some of the faces, longtime residents of Summer Island. Others were not so familiar, probably children and relatives. Working together, they flew through the jobs that had usually taken her grandfather and his small staff many hours.

Grace watched in amazement, aware that everyone here had come because of her grandfather. It
was a gift of thanks to a man who had never asked for any.

As she walked down the hall to her grandfather's office, Grace waved to the tall college student who helped supervise the shelter. Andy Wilson was in his senior year of college, and after that he was bound for vet school. But right now, all his spare time went into helping Dr. Peter. When he saw Grace, he jumped up from behind his desk.

“Grace, it's great to see you! I just heard from a friend who works at the hospital that your grandfather is doing a whole lot better today. I can't tell you how worried I was.” He waved her to a seat and then crossed to pour her a cup of coffee, adding a healthy dose of cream, just the way she liked it. “Man, have you seen anything like this? When I got here around seven the parking lot already had ten cars and it's been growing every hour. Do you believe it? The word is out about your grandfather and people just began showing up to help.” He ran a hand through his long hair, then pointed to the local men unloading heavy feed bags from a storage area in the back of the shelter. “I didn't have to ask anyone, Grace. It's—well, amazing. Everyone here on Summer Island owes him. He's helped more people than I can count, but he never mentions it. That's just his way.”

Grace nodded, fighting tears. “I know. He never asks for help.”

“Sometimes he got mad if I offered to take over
for him.” The boy turned, blinking a little as he looked out the window. “He helped me so much.” He cleared his throat. “At the beginning of my sophomore year, my scholarship was cut. I was working two jobs, but it wasn't enough. Your grandfather insisted on loaning me enough to get me through the year. I argued, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Yeah, I owe him. Everyone here owes him. And by the time he's out of the hospital, this whole facility is going to shine from the baseboards to the ceiling,” he said fiercely. “I hate that he had to be hurt for this to happen, but he refused anything except the most necessary help before.”

“I understand only too well. And this will make him so happy. Anything for the animals. I'll be sure and tell him when I go back to the hospital.” Grace finished her coffee and stood up. “Isn't there anything I can do to help? The last time we talked on the phone, he told me there were all kinds of small repair jobs that needed to be done.”

“We're finally taking care of them now.” Andy followed Grace to the door. “But that water heater took us by surprise. I mean, we both knew it was ancient. It's been here as long as this building has been here, but it never looked unstable.”

He looked at Grace, frowning. “I should have kept a better eye on things. All I can figure is that the power went out in the storm. We had a small quake here the same night, pretty rare for Oregon. He must have gone down in the basement, looking for the
backup generator. Maybe he tripped or maybe one of the metal legs of the water heater collapsed and knocked the shelf unit over on him.” Andy made a flat sound of anger. “I still feel sick when I think of him down there in the cold all night, alone and bleeding.” His face looked strained. “He insisted on doing too much. If I had fought harder, none of this would have happened.”

He was clearly upset, Grace realized. She moved quickly, blocking his way. “It's not your fault, Andy. I know just how stubborn my grandfather can be. Thank heavens you found him the next morning and had Caro and Gage help get him to the hospital. Maybe we should all be thankful for this wake-up call. Now things are going to change and he'll have to accept more help, like it or not. Since I'm going to be here, I'll make sure that he doesn't overwork.”

Andy stared at her in surprise. “You? You're going to stay here on Summer Island? But I thought your writing—well, I know you travel a lot.”

“Not anymore. It's time I came home.” Grace waved at an old friend from high school and then squeezed the hand of a mother and daughter who lived down the street from her grandfather. Her eyes burned as the little girl held up one of the puppies, her hands gentle with love, saying she hoped that Dr. Peter would be back soon because she missed him.

Her grandfather would have been very proud.

Reluctantly, Grace looked down the hall at her
grandfather's office. “I want to go through his papers and records, Andy. Did he keep them in his desk?”

“I think so. He never let me help with that.”

“I think he was getting behind in some of his bills. I'll need to check on that. His truck may need maintenance, too.” Grace shot him a quick smile. “But before that, I expect you to give me a list of everything I can do to help you around here. It's been a long time since I've scrubbed out a cage, but I haven't forgotten how, believe me.”

G
RACE TURNED OFF
her car and yawned, eyeing her face in the car mirror.

Right now she looked as tired as she felt. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was shoved back in a rubber band, wisps escaping around her face. She could feel the welts on her hands, along with bruises from the leg of a table she had tried to pick up the night before. She hadn't done this kind of manual labor in years.

Meanwhile, her grandfather was making progress. Grace spent long hours at his side, encouraging and explaining, building his morale. Every day he recovered a little more strength. His memory was better, and he understood what had happened to him. Yet he hated being dependent on others, and his mood could change in an instant. He grumbled at having to use a wheelchair and he grumbled at having physical therapy. Then Andy, his young assistant at the clinic, had gotten permission to bring one of their favorite dogs for a brief visit in the hospital lobby. Grace's grandfather had been in high spirits for a week afterward.

But he still worried about her. She put on a touch of lipstick and added a few quick strokes of color to her face to hide her exhaustion, wondering what kind of mood he would be in today. She hadn't been in the room for thirty seconds when he zeroed in on the circles under her eyes.

“You look tired. Those people are working you too hard. Tell them your new book can wait. It's just not worth ruining your health.” His eyes narrowed. “But…where are you working now, honey? Is it in New York? No, not there. Someplace else. I can't seem to remember.”

Grace didn't tell him the truth, that it was her work here in Oregon that had put dark circles under her eyes. Instead, she managed a smile. “It was Washington, D.C., Granddad. You remember that I told you about visiting the Smithsonian. But I'm not working there now. I've moved back home.”

His frown deepened. “So you're staying in our house? You didn't tell me that.”

“No, I'm not staying there.” Grace had been very careful about what she told her grandfather. Since he still had bouts of confusion and panic, she had tried to avoid any subjects that might worry him. “But I've been by every day to check on things. I'm staying at the Harbor House with Jilly now.”

The old man's frown deepened. “That place is a wreck. There probably isn't any heat.”

“We're fine, Granddad. Caro's husband and the electrician are taking care of everything. I've even
got my own room on the third floor. You wouldn't believe the view of the harbor from my window.”

Peter sank back slowly. “Well, if that's really the way you want it. It is true, no place has a view like the old Harbor House.” His eyes rose to the window, looking west. Grace had the sense that he had drifted off.

“Granddad, do you need anything? I'll bring you your favorite ice cream tonight. But what about magazines? Books to read?”

He cracked one eye open. “Oh, no, I don't need anything, honey. I have my new veterinary journal here. I've been reading it when I can. At least, I've been trying to…but it's slow work.” He shook his head. “I don't know when things got so complicated in my profession.”

His profession hadn't changed since the accident. It was his own mental abilities that were different.

He yawned and closed his eyes. “Get some rest, honey.”

Grace leaned over and squeezed his hand. “You, too. You'll have plenty of time to catch up on your journals once you're home.”

“I'd like that. It's so noisy here. I know they try hard, but the food…I won't bother them. It's just food.” He yawned again.

Then he struggled back from sleep, staring at her. “Don't work so hard, Grace. You always were working on something exciting. We both need to slow down. You be sure and tell them that back in New
York—or in Boston. Wherever it was. They need to stop working you so hard.”

And then he drifted back into sleep.

Grace reached over and took his hand, feeling the cool skin that was still too frail. No, she wouldn't tell him the truth, that she was running herself ragged here in Oregon. She wouldn't mention that the plumbing had broken again at the animal clinic and she'd worked four hours with Andy, cleaning up a flooded storage area. There had been bills to pay, paperwork to file, and pet food to order. Then one of the younger dogs had escaped. She and Andy had stumbled around in the darkness, clutching flashlights, for almost twenty minutes before they'd cornered the frightened animal. Maybe she
should
go back to Washington, Grace thought. That would be a piece of cake compared to what she was doing now.

Except she was enjoying the sheer variety and spontaneity of work to be done every day. She had always enjoyed working with her hands, and now she savored her daily interaction with needy animals at the shelter. Often abused or cruelly abandoned, they flowered in response to a little human love. They knew Grace now. When she appeared, they responded with instant excitement, their keen eyes bright with love. Every day her heart melted all over again.

She understood exactly why her grandfather couldn't give up his long hours at the shelter.

“How is he doing?”

Grace turned to see Caro's grandmother peeking inside. Morgan McNeal's silver hair fell in stunning waves around her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless, as always, and she wore a set of handmade glass beads around her neck. “I couldn't stay away any longer.”

Grace stood up and moved quietly to the door, giving Morgan a hug. “Better. He has his ups and downs. He still forgets a lot of things, but the doctors assure me he's getting stronger every day.”

Morgan ran a hand across her eyes, and the look of tenderness she had for Grace's grandfather was so intense that Grace felt like an intruder. But there were things that had to be said.

She put a hand on Morgan's arm. “When are you two getting married, Morgan? This relationship of yours has been going on forever. Don't think you're fooling anyone because everyone on Summer Island knows that you two are involved.”

Morgan sighed. “I know they do. But it's your grandfather. Peter wants things done properly. He's always been afraid it would upset you if our relationship changed. He keeps saying we need to wait.”

“
Me?
My grandfather is insisting on this charade because he doesn't want to bother
me?
” Grace ran a hand through her hair. “That's ridiculous. I'd be delighted to see you two together officially. Everyone on Summer Island would. You've both been alone too long.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “That's what I keep telling him. But your grandfather is as stubborn as a rhino. Something always comes up, or he's worried about the clinic, apologizing because some new project is taking up all his time. I keep telling him that we don't have forever. We're not young things any longer.” She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “And it seems as if I was right. If I'd insisted on him marrying me, we would move in together, and I could keep a better watch on him. No more late-night trips to the clinic to check on a sick animal. And no more carrying bags of feed or heavy cages by himself. He's going to have to hire someone younger and let them do the running. He should be using that good brain of his to teach, too. I keep telling him all that, but he never listens.”

So it hadn't been Morgan's idea to wait, but her grandfather's.

“I think he is silly to wait, too. But as for feeling guilty, don't. If anyone is to blame here, it's
me.
I should have been keeping a better eye on him. I know exactly what he's like and how he refuses to ask for help. I've been too focused on my own career, caught up in my research and my traveling—”

Caro's grandmother cut her off. “You were doing exactly what your grandfather wanted you to do. Don't you sink into a guilt-fest. One of us is quite enough.”

“More than enough,” Grace said firmly. “I'm glad that we can agree on that. And for the record I think
you're the best medicine that my grandfather could have. He's been restless today, trying to catch up on his veterinary journals. The stubborn idiot.”

Morgan chuckled. “That he is. And it's part of the reason I love him so much. What would we do without him?” She sighed and squeezed Grace's hand. “You really don't mind? I mean, the two of us are as old as Methuselah. It seems ridiculous for us to upset both households to get married now, at our age.”

“Why? You deserve your happiness. You should be together, enjoying yourselves. You're both so busy. This way you'll be able to spend your free time together whenever you can. I intend to tell my grandfather that as soon as he is stronger.”

“I don't want him having another problem like this.” Morgan tilted her head, studying Grace's face. “Why are you working so hard? They should give you more time off between your projects.” Morgan's eyes narrowed. “By the way, your grandfather told me that you were just getting started on a big project. How is that coming?”

Grace ignored a pang at the lie she was about to tell. “Oh, my research has been going very well, right on schedule. But I may not be involved much longer.”

“Really? Well, don't let them push you around. You should get more rest. You can't burn the candle at both ends. It doesn't work.”

“I'll keep that in mind, Morgan.”

Caro's grandmother laughed a little sadly. “No
you won't. Young people never do. You think you have all the energy and all the time in the world. You think no one knows half as much as you do. Believe me, when I was your age I was just the same way. But things change.” She sighed. “Remember that.”

There was a noise inside the room. “Morgie, is that you? Why don't you come inside? Grace just left. She's going to bring me some of that ice cream I like. Or maybe she already brought me some. I'm getting confused. Morgie, are you out there?”

“Go on,” Grace said. “Otherwise he'll be fuming over his vet magazine again. I'm sure he'd much rather look at your face.”

“Thank you for your blessing.” Morgan gave a self-conscious laugh and then turned around, vanishing into the room.

Grace smiled when she heard her grandfather sitting up, followed by Morgan's giggle and what might have been an emphatic kiss.

 

W
ONDERFUL SMELLS CAME
from the kitchen.

As she sniffed the air, Grace put down her bag of groceries and went in search of Jilly. Her friend was on one knee, scraping a cabinet. She took one look at Grace and shook her head. “You look terrible. You're working too hard.”

Was everyone going to tell her she looked awful? “Not as hard as you.”

“Seriously, Grace. It's not your grandfather, is it? There's nothing wrong at the hospital?”

“No, Morgan was there when I left, and the two of them were like young kids. She will make certain that he's in good spirits. And I would seriously appreciate it if you and everyone else would stop telling me I look awful,” Grace muttered.

“Touchy, aren't we?” Jilly smiled wickedly. “Somebody isn't getting enough phone sex. Maybe I should go get your cell phone and call up that hunk. Noah, isn't that his name? Maybe I should tell him that—”

“If you touch my phone, I'll murder you.” Grace was already tugging off her jacket, searching for the old sweatshirt she wore to work in the kitchen. “And now if the jokes are over, maybe you'll tell me what's on the list for this afternoon. I finished cleaning the shelves last night. I scrubbed the floor, too.”

“I saw how much you did. That's why you're taking a break. Come into the kitchen and admire my new table. I have chocolate espresso brownies in the oven and your knitting bag is in the corner.”

Grace felt her exhaustion lift. “Chocolate brownies? The ones you make with the nuts and that amazing gooey center?” She trailed after Jilly toward the far door. “And whipped cream?”

“Bingo.”

Grace was afraid she might have drooled. “This could be good.”

“Better than good. There's a box of yarn over there with samples. Caro opened it and went into
some kind of trance. She fondled every one,” Jilly said. “Talked to the yarn for probably ten minutes.”

She put a hot plate of brownies on the table along with a canister of freshly whipped cream. “Your turn, Lindstrom. Go fondle the yarn.” Jilly raised an eyebrow. “I'll be over here fixing a shelf. Try not to drool, will you?”

 

I
T WAS HEAVEN
to sit and do nothing, heaven to savor Jilly's newest decadent dessert and feast on the glorious spring colors of the new yarn samples. Sated with brownies, Grace picked up her needles to finish a scarf for Jilly, who had no idea the gift was for her.

“So what's the update on the hunk?” Jilly stuck her head out of a cabinet. “When is he coming to visit?”

“No date yet. He's very busy.”

“What kind of job?”

Grace rubbed her neck. “Government work. He's on call and goes out on emergencies.”

Jilly sat back slowly. “What kind of emergencies?”

“Oh, this and that.”

Jilly studied her grimy hands, frowning. “You don't know what he does, do you? It's secret. Is he some kind of spy? Secret Service maybe?”

“I don't
know.
He told me what he could, but it wasn't much.”

“And that doesn't…bother you?”

Grace stood up, piling yarn neatly back into the
sample box. “Or course it bothers me. I
hate
wondering, not knowing where he is or if he's…hurt.” Grace rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache begin.

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a pain. I just want him to be good for you. You don't smile enough, do you know that?” Jilly rubbed Grace's shoulders. “Only when you talk to him on the phone.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “So get him out here. Call him again. Go make passionate love out at Lover's Point.” Jilly smiled a little wistfully. “Find out if he's the one.”