At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (24 page)

BOOK: At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries
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The kiss was neither quick nor little, and it left
Sophie a little breathless and wishing she were somewhere other than a family wedding.

“To be continued.” She pulled away and taking him by the hand, started back along the path to the inn.

The music grew louder the closer they got to the building, but by the time they arrived at the ballroom, it had all but ceased.

“Crap, they’re cutting the cake already. Let’s just sort of drift into the room as if we’d never left.”

“Good idea,” he agreed.

Everyone at Sophie’s table was standing and facing the dance floor, where Brooke and Jesse were in the process of cutting their wedding cake.

“I hope he doesn’t do something dorky like smash that into her face,” Sophie said under her breath.

“Oh, there you are.” Sophie’s mother turned. “We’ve all been wondering where you were.”

“Oh, I’ve been around,” Sophie replied.

“Where are your shoes?” Olivia looked down at Sophie’s feet.

“My shoes?” Sophie followed her mother’s gaze. “Oh, damn, my shoes. They were bothering me and I took them off …”

“Ah, I think I saw them …” Jason pointed in the general direction of the lobby. “I’ll just go … I’ll find them.”

“ ‘Oh, Mother, I hardly know the man.’ ” Olivia whispered after Jason turned and headed for the door. “If that isn’t a direct quote, it’s damned close.”

“Close enough,” Sophie muttered.

Olivia laughed. “You’re such a poor actress, and
you’re all flushed. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think …”

“Don’t think, Mom.” Her mouth suddenly dry, Sophie reached for her water glass and took a long drink. “Spare us all, and don’t think.”

Olivia was still smiling when Jason returned with Sophie’s shoes. Sophie was grateful that her mother turned her back when he handed them to her.

“Here you go, Cinderella,” he said.

“Well, if I’m Cinderella, you must be Prince Charming.” She tucked the shoes under her chair and made a mental note to remember they were there.

“I’m no prince.” He stood with a hand on the back of her chair.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she told him. “Now pull over that chair and let’s see if we can carry on a conversation now that the music’s starting again.”

Talk was impossible when the band played a dance number and many of the guests took to the floor and sang along with the band.

“Now, do you …” Sophie pointed to the dance floor where bodies gyrated to “Moves Like Jagger.”

“Uh-uh.” Jason shook his head.

“Do you mind if I do? I see Mia and Steffie out there dancing with Brooke, and I could probably join them …”

“Go on. I’ll stay here and talk to your mom.”

She hesitated. Did she really want her mother talking to Jason after the way Olivia interrogated her?

“Go.” Jason laughed. “I think I can handle it.”

She went, and she danced three numbers back-to-back before nearing exhaustion. She made her way
back to the table, where—Lord help her—Olivia was in deep conversation with Jason.

“What are you two talking about?” She maneuvered her chair so that she was between them.

“Just … things,” Olivia told her with a wave of her hand.

“Oh.” Sophie debated whether or not to ask what things they’d been talking about, especially since her mother appeared somewhat smug. She lost her chance when Logan appeared and hung over Jason’s shoulder.

“What’s up, buddy?” Jason reached an arm out to keep his nephew from falling into his lap. “Tired?”

“Uh-huh.” Logan leaned but didn’t fall.

“Past your bedtime by about … oh, almost two hours,” Jason noted.

“Uh-huh.”

“Everything okay?” Jason asked.

“I don’t wanna stay at Gramma’s house tonight. Can’t I stay with you?” Before Jason could reply, Logan added, “It’s Saturday night, and that’s supposed to be guys’ night.”

“Why don’t you want to stay at your grandmother’s?”

Logan shrugged. “Just don’t.”

Jason’s eyes met Sophie’s, and she knew he’d been thinking the same thing she was. Their evening was ending too soon. If nothing else, she’d been hoping for another dance or two.

“Well …” Jason appeared momentarily torn. He stared down at Logan for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, as long as it’s okay with your mom and your grandmother.”

“Thanks, Uncle Jace. I’ll be right back.” Logan set off in search of his mother.

“Does he stay with you often?” Olivia turned to ask. “Your nephew?”

“Almost every Saturday night. ‘Guys’ night,’ ” he explained with a grin.

“I don’t know many men your age who’d give up their Saturday nights to spend them with an eight-year-old,” she continued.


Two
eight-year-olds,” Sophie interjected. “Doesn’t Logan’s friend stay with you as well?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of a package deal. I won’t be surprised if Logan’s roped Cody into coming along. It might do him good. I think the wedding—his mom remarrying—has rattled him a little, maybe more than any of us suspected. He and Jesse get along really well, and he knows Jesse cares about him, but even so, he might feel a little confused or insecure about the situation.”

“Then it’s good that he has you.” Olivia reached over and squeezed his arm before turning to chat with Delia and Zoey.

“Sorry,” he whispered to Sophie. “I was hoping we could spend a little more time together tonight. Maybe take a walk along the dock, take in a little moonlight.”

“So was I. But you’re right. Logan needs you in a way he doesn’t need his grandmother.” They both knew she meant that Logan’s connection to Eric these days existed mostly through Jason.

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Of course.” She could see Logan—and as expected, Cody—dashing through the crowd toward them. “Here come your charges. Both of them …”

The boys were overtired and restless, and obviously had had far too much soda and cake.

“Mrs. Enright, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he told Olivia.

“Please, it’s Olivia.” She extended her hand. “I enjoyed talking with you. Perhaps another time we’ll continue that conversation …”

“I’d like that.” Jason turned to Sophie, who’d risen from her seat. “So … well, I guess I’ll see you … sometime.”

“Yes, you will.” She smiled when his fingers brushed against hers for just a brief second. “Bet on it …”

Diary ~

Well, what a week we’ve had around here! First—Jesse and Brooke’s wedding was lovely. Such a beautiful couple. It was so nice to see their families gathered to celebrate their marriage—all present and accounted for except for the groom’s father, but two of his ex-wives were there. One, of course, was Jesse and Sophie’s mother—charming woman—and the other was—I still can barely believe this—my favorite author in the entire world, Delia Enright! Not only did I get to meet her—she was gracious enough to sign all of her books for me—but she stayed right here, in our inn. Well, I was beside myself, you can bet. Much to my delight, I found Delia—yes, we’re on first-name basis—to be so nice and down to earth. She said she loved her stay here and would be booking at least a week this coming summer so that she could come back
.

I’m just bubbling over with news tonight—I’ve learned that Sophie Enright has moved to St. Dennis to go into the family law firm. Curtis is simply beside himself—he’s very fond of both Jesse and Sophie, Violet tells me. Sophie’s already agreed to work on the carriage house restoration with us, so I’m pleased that she’s interested in becoming a part of our little community. I know someone else who’s happy that
she’s staying around. I noticed her walking into the reception on Saturday night, hand in hand with that nice Jason Bowers. Could there be another love story about to be written?

You know how I adore a good love story. I’m tempted to get out the Ouija and see what her grandmother thinks about this development. Rose always did love to gossip!

~ Grace ~
      

Chapter 16

“I
T
was a lovely brunch, Pop. Everyone had a great time. Too bad Jesse and Brooke had to miss it.”

Sophie and Curtis stood on the sidewalk in front of his house, waving goodbye to the rest of the family. The New Jersey group had made the trip together, in Nick’s Escalade, and Mike and his kids had all driven separately and were now on their way back to wherever they’d come from. Sophie still couldn’t keep her uncle Mike’s boys straight. They were close in age and looked a lot alike.

“Jesse and Brooke have their own agenda. They should be arriving in London right about now.” Curtis tucked Sophie’s arm through his. Together they walked along the path to the front door, which Curtis had left standing open.

“Let’s see how the caterer is doing with the cleanup,” Sophie said once they were inside.

“Now, they know what they’re doing,” he told her. “No need to check up on them, or on me, for that matter. You don’t have to hang around, Sophie. I can handle the caterer. This wasn’t my first party, you know.”

“I’m sure, but I’ll stay till they’re finished, all the same.”

“You have a big week ahead of you.” He ushered her into the living room. “You’re going to be Enright and Enright for the next seven days. You might want to rest up.”

“I’ll be fine. Jesse and I went over all the big cases, so I know what to expect. He has nothing on the docket for another ten days, so no court appearances will be necessary. Mostly I’ll be meeting with clients, conducting a few interviews, and becoming acquainted with the caseload. All in all, not such a tough week.”

“Did I mention how happy I am that you’re planning on taking the Maryland bar and joining your brother?”

“Once or twice.”

“Is that all?” He chuckled. “Somehow I lost count.”

Sophie watched him slowly lower into his favorite chair. “Pop, are you feeling okay?”

“Just a little tired. I’m not used to so much festivity in one weekend.” He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

Sophie watched from the sofa, her shoes off, her legs pulled up under her. She’d hoped to take this opportunity to talk to him about the restaurant and her plans, but now was clearly not the time. He was obviously exhausted. She’d stay until the caterers left and make sure he had dinner and headed up to bed early. She closed her own eyes, thinking about the upcoming weeks and all she would need to accomplish. She’d just finished planning her opening-day menu when the scent began to envelop her.

“Okay, how are you doing that?” She opened her eyes.

“Who are you talking to?” her grandfather asked.

“You. I’m talking to you. There’s no one else here.”

“Are you sure of that?” A small smile played across his lips.

“Come on, Pop. Fess up. If you’re somehow making that happen, just tell me, okay?”

“Do I look as if I’m doing anything except trying to take a nap in my favorite chair?” He raised his head a few inches off the back of the chair and opened his eyes.

“Somehow you rigged something …” Sophie got up. “I know. It’s one of those plug-in fragrance things. You found one that smells like gardenias, right?” She began to search for outlets in the room. When she failed to find what she was looking for, she went into the hallway.

“Okay, I give up.” She plopped back on the sofa.

“Please do. You’re upsetting your grandmother.” He closed his eyes again.

“Pop … oh, never mind.” He was never going to admit that he was behind the mysterious scent, and she was never going to accept his explanation. Why belabor the point? Besides, if it gave him comfort all these years to keep his beloved Rose close to him, what difference did it make where the scent came from? Hadn’t Jason said something like that?

Sophie had to admit, though, that it was odd that, search as she might, she could not find an apparent source. Odd, too, that it seemed to come and go. One would think that if something had been rigged up to release a perfume into the air, it would be constant.
There had been times when Sophie entered a room in this house where one minute there had been no scent at all, and the next minute, it seemed to surround her. How to explain that?

Earlier in the day, she’d been chatting with her cousin Elizabeth—called Bit by her brothers, Lizzie by everyone else—and had complimented her on her choice of perfume.

“Did you wear that for Gramma Rose?” Sophie had asked.

“Wear what?”

“The gardenia perfume.”

“I’m not wearing perfume,” Lizzie had told her. “That
is
Gramma Rose.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Lizzie had shrugged. “You explain it, then. I can’t. After all these years, I’ve given up trying.”

Obviously the old man had any number of people fooled.

Sophie watched her grandfather sleep, the scent fading as he began to snore softly. Her grandmother had been gone for close to twenty years, a long time to perpetuate a myth. Yet if it was in fact Rose’s presence, twenty years would be a long time to linger, a long time to wait. Could love really do that, she wondered—cross time and the barriers between life and death? Could you choose between moving on alone and remaining suspended between the two dimensions until your loved one joined you?

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