Driftwood Point (20 page)

“Well, then, let's hope Jansen's a magician. Maybe I'll pay him a call tomorrow, see what he's thinking.”

“You don't have to check up on it for me. He'll let me know when he knows.”

Owen stood. “I want to stop over at the boatyard anyway, pay my respects to Uncle Eb and the
Annie G
. Plus I owe him my thanks for looking after Gigi. Whether he ended up walking off with the boat for his troubles or not, it was good of him. Jansen always was a good guy. Sounds like he still is.”

“He and Gigi are really tight,” Lis told him.

“That speaks well of him, then. She isn't fooled easily.”

“She isn't fooled at all.”

Owen went out to his car and opened the back, took out a duffel bag, and closed the hatch.

“Your old room is still up there,” Lis told him as he walked back to the porch. “You'll probably have to put sheets on the bed, though. Look in the hall closet. Towels are there, too.”

Owen grinned broadly. “How many thirty-eight-year-old men can say their great-grandmother keeps a room ready for them?”

“My guess is that most grown men wouldn't admit to it.”

“Hey, I don't have a problem with it. Doesn't threaten my masculinity. Most guys don't have Gigi.” He stood on the ground and looked up at the store. “What do you think is going to happen to it when she's gone, Lis?”

“The store?” She shook her head. “I don't know.”

“And the rest of it? Poppa's old place, the point?”

“I'm hoping to stake a claim to at least a little piece of the point. Gigi seemed pleased that I wanted it.”

“It should stay intact, stay in the family. There's a lot of acreage there, but it should stay intact. Keep it together, Lis.”

“If I have any say in it, sure. But it's Gigi's to decide what to do with. As far as Poppa's place is concerned, I haven't even been over there. I forgot about it, to tell you the truth. I'd be surprised if it was still standing. Last time I was over that way, the old chapel next door was falling down and that little graveyard was overgrown. I said something to Gigi about it and she made a few calls and got some people out there to clean it up. She was threatening to go herself, but we—me and Hedy and Essie—were able to talk her out of it.”

“I'll take a look tomorrow. You coming in?”

“In a minute. You go on up. I'll see you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.” He opened the screen door and took a step inside.

“Owen?” She heard him pause in the doorway. “I'm glad you're here. When I'm here, I mean.”

“Yeah, kiddo. Me, too.” He closed the door softly behind him.

Lis sat on the porch step for a few more minutes, her head back, and watched the sky for shooting stars. She was in the mood to make wishes—there were a number of wishes on her list tonight—but stare as she might, there was no movement in the dark sky. Finally she went in, locked up the store, and went to bed.

ALEC HAD JUST
finished sanding the repaired hull in preparation for paint when he looked out the window and saw a tall man with dark hair and dark glasses approaching the warehouse. He put down the sander and went to the door and looked out through the glass. The man stood with his back to Alec's shop, his hands on his hips, and stared out at the bay. The visitor turned around just as Alec stepped outside.

“Hey, Alec,” the man called.

“Owen Parker, that you?”

“It is.” Owen offered a hand in greeting and Alec gave it a shake. Owen's grip was just a little bit tighter than Alec would have expected for someone he hadn't seen in a long time.

“How've you been?” Alec asked, waiting for the bones in his hand to recover. “Where've you been?”

“Here and there.”

“You planning on being around for a while?”

“A while.” Owen tilted his head in the direction of the warehouse. “Is that where you're hiding her?”

“Her?” Alec frowned.

“
Annie
.”

Alec smiled. “Ah, the lovely
Annie G
. Yes, she's safe and sound inside. Want to see her?”

Owen nodded. “Came to pay my respects.”

“Right this way.” Alec opened the door and gestured for Owen to go in. He followed and closed the door behind them.

“Just as pretty as ever. Showing her age, but still pretty.” Owen walked around the boat, a smile on his face. He patted the hull, took a long look at the hole in her side, and asked, “Dry rot?”

“Yeah. I'm replacing it, piece by piece.” Alec pointed to the stack of new wood. “I just finished sanding one that I'll be replacing on her soon.”

“Shame she sat out there for so long. I bet there's plenty of work before she's ready to get back on the bay. Assuming that's your plan.”

“That's the plan.” Before Owen could ask, Alec told him, “Not going to use her for fishing or oystering or crabbing. I'll just be taking her out for show, a couple of races in the summer. Otherwise, she'll be treated like a valuable racehorse put out to pasture.”

“A worthy future.” Owen slapped the side of the boat lightly. “Are you making a new mainsail yourself?”

“No. Too tricky. I'm going to have one made when the time comes.”

“Well, I'd have liked to have kept her in the family, to be honest, but all things considered, she's better off in your hands. There's no one who can do for her what you can.”

“Thanks, Owen. I'm glad to hear you say that.”

“That was a sweet deal you made with Ruby.”

Alec let out a sigh. “If you're going to imply that somehow I took advantage of an old lady, let me assure you, your sister already covered that base.”

“I think in terms of cold cash, Ruby got the best of the bargain. She told me about all you did for her.” Owen paused before adding, “I appreciate it. And I'm embarrassed that it didn't occur to me to come home to watch out for her.”

“I don't think she wanted that. She always talks about how good she thinks it is that you're seeing the world now while you're young, before you settle down.”

“Settle down?” Owen snorted. “I hope she's not counting on that anytime soon.”

“You should take that up with her.”

“So I hear you're going to help my sister fix up Ruby's old cottage down on the point.”

“I did look at it, but I'm not so sure that it can be salvaged. There's a lot of water and termite damage. I know Lis has her heart set on it, but I don't know that it's going to happen.” Alec added, “I hate to disappoint her. You should have seen her face when she was walking through it. It's obvious that place means a lot to her.”

“If there's anything I can do to help out, just let me know. My sister's had a rough year. I'd like to see her happy.”

“I'll do that. I think she's glad to be back on the island, and she has that big showing of her work tonight.”

“Yeah, it's a big night for her, all right. I'm looking forward to it myself.”

Owen walked around the boat one more time. “I have to admit the landscape on the island isn't quite the same without
Annie
standing guard in Ruby's backyard, but I guess it's time she moved on. And that new living space for Ruby—well, we should have done something about that a long time ago.”

“No harm, no foul, as they say.”

Owen moved toward the door and Alec fell in step with him.

“So are you planning on building any more boats here, or are you keeping busy enough with your home-remodeling business?”

“Keeping busy all the way around.” They'd reached the door, and Alec pushed it open. “Though eventually I would like to start where my uncle Cliff left off. Build a skip from scratch. Maybe a few other bay boats. We'll see.”

They stepped out into the sun. “So I guess I'll see you tonight at the gallery,” Alec said.

“Wouldn't miss it. My little sister, showing off her paintings to the hometown crowd.” Owen shook his head. “Who'd have figured that?”

“She'll draw a crowd, all right.” Alec slipped on his sunglasses. “So, you planning on being around for a while?”

“Not sure how long, but yeah, for a time. I met up with a guy I knew from school who's going to be doing a salvage operation in the bay. I'll be working with him.”

“I heard someone was going to try to pull up
some old boat from the War of 1812. That your friend?”

Owen nodded.

“Great. Good luck with that,” Alec told him. “Guess I'll see you tonight.”

“See you there.” Owen walked off down the sidewalk.

What, Alec wondered, was the point of that? Just to let me know that he's back and he's looking out for Ruby? Or is it Lis he's watching over?

Alec turned and went back into his shop. He had a few more hours before he had to quit and go back home to clean up for Lis's showing. He'd sensed that she might be a little nervous about tonight, and he wanted to be there for her. Besides, this was a date that had been seventeen years in the making, and he wanted to savor every minute they had.

Chapter Eleven

W
hat do you think?” Lis came down the steps and into the store, where Ruby and Owen waited. “Do I look okay?”

“Other than the fact that the dress is a little low in the front and a little short on the bottom, I guess you look okay,” Owen told her.

“You hush, you.” Ruby frowned at him. “She looks just right.”

“Thank you, Gigi.” Lis planted a cheek on the older woman's cheek.

“Just right” was one of Ruby's highest compliments and was exactly what Lis needed to hear. Knowing that she and her work would be on display for all the world to see that night was enough to make the butterflies in her stomach go wild, but it was her date after the showing with Alec that was making her nervous. What if it didn't go well? Once she got past her initial suspicion and realized he was really helping Ruby and not taking advantage of her, they'd gotten along just fine. Better than fine, considering that kiss
in the cottage the other day. But say the word “date,” and things have a way of changing, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.

“You be driving, Lis,” Ruby reminded her. “I can't—”

“We know. Climb into that beast I drive. I promise that my next car will be more Gigi friendly.” Owen took her arm and helped her down the steps while Lis locked the store and put the
CLOSED
sign face out on the window.

The drive took fewer than ten minutes, and by the time Lis, Ruby, and Owen were walking toward the door to the carriage house turned art gallery, Lis's heart was in her throat. What if everyone thought her work was ugly, or boring, or worst of all, silly? She tried reminding herself that other paintings of hers were at that very moment hanging in a respectable, well-known New York City art gallery, but having anonymous strangers looking at your work with a critical eye was entirely different from having people you know judge your talent. And that was exactly how Lis felt walking into the crowded gallery: that everyone was there to judge her.

She did remind herself that Carly had contacted her, had
invited
her to show her work here, so that should count for something. Then again, Carly had crazy-eyed cats painted on black velvet hanging in the very room where Lis's paintings would be displayed.

It seemed to Lis that everyone she'd ever met in St. Dennis—and many she hadn't—came through the receiving line. The biggest shock was the number of people from her class in school who came to see her,
many whose names she couldn't even recall because she'd never really known them. Hadn't been allowed to know them. Everyone was so friendly, so complimentary of her work, that by the end of the night, she'd promised herself that for as long as she was living on the island, she'd make more of an effort to involve herself in whatever way she could in whatever was happening in the town. Maybe she'd even make a friend or two.

“You're Vanessa, from the dress shop,” Lis said when she recognized the woman from Bling.

“And you're the pretty lady who bought my favorite dress.” Vanessa smiled and leaned a little closer. “And you do wear it well. It looks stunning on you. How do the shoes feel?”

“Terrific. Thank you. I was in a bit of a rush yesterday, but I'll be back in to see what else you have,” Lis told her.

“Good. And since you're our newest resident artist, you qualify for my friends-and-family discount.”

“Even better. I'll see you soon.”

Vanessa passed through the line to make way for the next person.

“The ice cream shop,” Lis said when she recalled where she'd seen the tall blond woman.

“Steffie MacGregor. I love your work. It's so moody. It's such a nice contrast to some of the other works here.” Steffie stepped aside and eased another woman forward. “Mom, this is Lis. She likes strawberry mousse with a chocolate thunder chaser.”

“I'm Shirley Wyler, and I apologize for the fact
that my daughter tends to identify people by their choice of ice cream flavors.” Shirley Wyler was a very stylish, well-preserved sixtyish woman, with the same tawny blond hair as her daughter. “I've been so excited to meet you. Your work is so . . .” She appeared momentarily lost for words, then added, “So full of energy.”

“Thank you. It's hard to paint New York without reflecting the pulse of the city,” Lis replied.

“Mom's an artist, too,” Steffie told Lis.

“Oh no. No, I'm . . .” Shirley protested. “Not like—”

“Don't listen to her,” Steffie said. “Ask Carly to show you some of her work. She paints as Shirley Hinson, her maiden name.”

“Oh, you . . .” Shirley was beet red. “Really, Miss Parker . . .”

“It's Lis, and I'd love to see your work. You have something displayed here tonight?”

“Oh, just a watercolor or two,” Shirley said. “But really, you don't have to . . .”

“I'd be delighted. Maybe when I'm finished here, you can show me,” Lis told her.

“I haven't had any formal training, and I—”

“Some of my favorite paintings were done by artists with no formal training. I'm sure if Carly has been displaying your work, it's better than you're giving yourself credit for.” Lis checked the size of the line. “There are only about twenty-five more people to greet, so I should be finished here soon. I'd really love to see what you've done.”

“All right. I'll catch up with you in about twenty
minutes or so.” Shirley took her daughter's arm and disappeared into the crowd.

“Having fun?” A voice whispered in Lis's ear. “Or are you ready to run screaming back to the island?”

Lis laughed and tried to pretend she hadn't felt the softness of Alec's breath on her neck or the shiver that ran through her when he touched her bare arm.

“Actually, I'm having more fun than I thought I'd have. But you wouldn't believe how many people from our class are here.”

“I believe. I've been talking to them since I got here. Everyone's so tickled that our class produced such a great artist.”

“I couldn't remember most of their names,” she told him. “It's embarrassing.”

“Well, put that thought aside for a while and enjoy yourself while you're here.” Alec stepped around her and embraced the small, white-haired woman next in line. “Hello, Aunt Grace. You look great. I love the way you coordinated your dress with your cane.”

Grace pretended to swipe at him with the cane even as she laughed. “Out of my way, young man. I'm here to see the artist.”

She leaned over and kissed Alec on the cheek before moving on to Lis. “What a wonderful crowd tonight. I think everyone in town is here. There's nothing we love more than a local success story.” She took Lis's hand. “You've done lovely work. You're every bit as talented as Ruby said. Now, where is my friend? Someone said she was here.”

“She's probably holding court in the next room.
Carly found a comfortable chair for her, so I doubt she's moved from the spot where I left her.”

Behind Grace, her entire family was lined up: daughter Lucy and her husband, Clay; her oldest son, Dan, and his fiancée, Jamie; and Ford, her youngest, Carly's husband. Alec stood and chatted with his cousins, and before long, the line had dwindled down to a few old friends of Lis's mother, and Emily Hart and one of her nieces, who'd served them dinner the night before. Lis accepted their compliments and promised to pass on their best wishes to Kathleen next time she spoke with her.

“Have you had anything to drink yet?” Alec asked her when the receiving line had broken up.

“No, but I'd kill for some water. My throat is so dry from talking so much. I swear, I talked more tonight than I have in the past three months,” she told him.

“Must have been a lonely three months,” he replied.

“Now that I think about it, I could use a champagne chaser with that water.” Lis forced a smile.

She hadn't realized just how lonely she'd been until she returned to her apartment on Thursday. The contrast between her life there and what her life was beginning to look like here was like night and day. Here she had family, and maybe even the makings of a friend or two.

And then there was Alec, and who knew where that might lead?

“Coming right up.” Alec headed toward the makeshift bar that Carly had set up for the occasion.

No sooner had he left than Shirley Wyler walked over. “Listen, I'm sure there are a lot of people who'd like to talk to you. I saw a reporter from the
Baltimore Sun
here, so I know your time is in demand. You can take a look at my paintings another time. It's really all right. I won't be offended.”

“Don't be silly. There's no time like the present.” Lis took Shirley's elbow. “Which way?”

“On the other side of the main partition,” Shirley told her.

Alec appeared with a glass of water in one hand and a champagne glass in the other. Lis grabbed the water and took a long drink.

“I'll be back in five minutes. Hold on to the wine,” she told him.

“I'll get you another one,” he said as he raised the glass to his lips. “I'll be around.”

“This is yours?” Lis asked after Shirley stopped in front of a large painting of a garden in early morning.

Shirley nodded.

“It's beautiful. You really have a way with color and design. You're very talented,” Lis told her sincerely.

“Thank you. You don't have to say that to be nice, but thank you anyway.” Shirley looked as if she could cry.

“I'm being honest. It's lovely. You can almost feel that tiny bit of breeze that is setting the flowers swaying just the slightest bit. Are you exhibiting anywhere other than here?”

Behind Shirley and halfway across the room, Lis saw Alec engaged in conversation with a pretty
blonde in a slinky black dress. She was wearing a lot of gold and mile-high heels.

“Not yet. I've had offers from other galleries, but I don't know what to do, or who to trust. I don't even know how to price my paintings. I don't know any other artists, so I haven't had anyone to ask.”

“Well, you do now. We can have coffee some morning. Ask me anything you want to know.” The blonde leaned closer to Alec and was whispering conspiratorially in his ear. He was smiling as if whatever she was saying was exactly what he wanted to hear. Who, Lis wondered, was she? Competition? Lis's heart dropped. Why should she be surprised if someone else was as interested in him as she was? Alec was pretty much what every woman was looking for.

“That would be great, thank you. I'd love to.”

“Great. I'll be in touch.”

Alec's smile had faded, and he was nodding slowly as the woman spoke.

“So you're staying in St. Dennis?” Shirley asked.

“On the island, yes. I'm not sure yet how long, but I'll be around.” Lis watched as Owen joined the party of two.

“Let me give you my number.” Shirley took a card from her bag, wrote on the back, and handed it to Lis. “Just whenever you have an hour to spare . . .”

“Thanks. I'll be sure to call you.” Lis moved in Alec's direction, but he'd already walked away from the blonde, who at that moment seemed to have captured all of Owen's attention.

Alec swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

“You're a huge hit tonight, you know.” He handed the glass to Lis. “Everyone loves your work.”

“Pinch me.” She took a sip. “This is beyond anything I expected. How did Carly get everyone to show up?”

“She just put a little item in the
St. Dennis Gazette
: who, what, when, and where. It's not such a big town that people forget you when you leave.” He pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “People remember you and Owen. And of course, everyone knows Ruby. From what I understand, she wasn't shy about telling people about it.”

“I'm sure the item in the paper let people know about the exhibit, but I wouldn't put it past Ruby to bug people until they agreed to show up.”

“Does it matter who got them in here? You're a hit. Everyone now knows how very talented you are. You should feel great.”

“I feel better than I did when I arrived tonight, that's for sure,” Lis admitted.

“Then things are looking up.”

“Alec, who's that woman talking to Owen?” she asked casually.

“Cass Logan.”

When he offered no further explanation, she said, “Is she from St. Dennis?”

“No. She's just visiting.” He looked at his watch. “Only about another twenty minutes or so before people start to leave. I made reservations for nine at Captain Walt's.”

“Oh great. I was just saying last night that I wanted to go there while I'm home. Owen suggested
we go last night but Gigi wanted to go to Emily Hart's.”

“I just saw her a few minutes ago. I can't believe she's still running her little operation over there on the island. She must be under the radar to have been operating all these years without someone from the board of health showing up.”