Shore Lights (26 page)

He settled for walking her home.

 
“IT'S ME, AUNT Rose. Is she back yet?”

Rose rolled her eyes until they almost fell out the back of her head. “Denise, don't you have a job? This is the fourth time you've called in the last hour.”

“I know but—”

“When Maddy gets home, I'll tell her to call you. Unless you want me to send out a search party, that's the best I can do.”

“You don't have to get huffy with me, Aunt Rose. I'm concerned, that's all.”

“You've been talking to your mother, haven't you? There's nothing to be concerned about. Maddy and Aidan are inspecting a teapot Maddy bought at an on-line auction. That's all.”

“You weren't there. You didn't see the way they were looking at each other.”

“Goodbye, Denise.” She hung up the phone.

Two seconds later it rang again.

“Denise, this is ridiculous. If you don't stop—”

“This is Jim Kennedy at WNJI, the Shore's Hottest Station. I'm trying to reach Madelyn Bainbridge. If it's a bad time, I'll—”

“No! No!” Rose struggled to recover her professional demeanor. “I thought you were one of my nieces.”

“Is this Ms. Bainbridge?” His voice was low and mellow, like melted chocolates. A perfect radio voice.

“This is Rose DiFalco. I'm her mother.” Her heart was pounding so fast she had to lean against the side of the counter for support.

“Rose DiFalco who owns the Candlelight?”

“The same.”

“I got your letter, Ms. DiFalco, and I have a proposition for you and your daughter that I think you're going to like . . .”

 
“OH, NO.” MADDY groaned as they neared the Candlelight. “Please don't tell me she's sweeping the porch in a snowstorm.”

Aidan shielded his eyes and peered into the swirling snow. “Your mother?”

“Who else. I swear she can hear a leaf hit the ground from a hundred yards away.”

“Don't knock it,” he said. “She must be doing something right. The Candlelight is the most successful B&B in all of South Jersey.”

Rose stood on the top step in her heavy dark green storm coat and waved excitedly as Maddy and Aidan approached. Priscilla, looking impossibly tiny and cute, barked wildly at her feet. Maddy had to stifle the urge to turn around and see who was behind her.

“Do you always get that kind of welcome?” Aidan asked.

“Not since I was three years old.” Had Rose finally inhaled too much furniture polish and gone around the bend?

Rose favored them with a wide smile, the kind that not only showed all of her very white teeth, but actually reached her eyes as well.

Maddy's heart started a slow, but cautious, melt.

“Good to see you, Aidan,” Rose said. “I missed you at last month's meeting.”

It was clear that wasn't the greeting Aidan had expected.

“I—uh—Tommy couldn't watch the bar and Claire was visiting her mother so I—”

“You don't have to explain,” Maddy snapped as the melt reversed itself.

Rose's cheeks reddened just enough for Maddy to notice.

“Of course you don't,” Rose said to Aidan, her manner easy and cordial. “I meant what I said. I missed your input at the meeting.”

Aidan's eyes lost the guarded quality they had assumed moments ago. “Those meetings can get a little rowdy.”

“They can,” Rose agreed, “but sometimes that's the only way you can get things done.”

Rose turned to Maddy, who was struggling to absorb the byplay between her mother and Aidan. “Maddy, there was a phone call for you. I left the message on the kitchen table. You might want to see to it now.”

“Hannah's okay?” She couldn't keep the note of apprehension from her voice.

“Hannah's fine.” Rose patted her arm. “I'm sorry. I should have said that up front.”

“Dad? Tom?”

“I'm sure they're both fine. Go inside,” Rose urged. “I said you would be back any minute. He's waiting for your call.”

“I'd better shove off,” Aidan said, looking uncomfortable. He handed the shopping bag with the samovar in it to Maddy. “Great breakfast.”

Maddy beamed at him. “It was. Next one's on me.”

Oh, damn. There she went again, spilling words all over the place without thinking first. The only reason they had had coffee together was so she could show him the samovar. When she found a Japanese tea service, maybe then she would give him a call.

“Sounds good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Julie's pancakes are the best in three states.”

So much for romance.

Rose watched them with a combination of interest and impatience.

“Maddy,” she said in a mild tone of voice. “The phone call—?”

Maddy nodded in her mother's direction, but her attention was on Aidan. “Why don't you wait a minute,” she said to him, “and I'll drive you back to your car.” The sidewalk was treacherously slippery, and the thought of him taking a header with no one around to help him didn't sit well with her. Not at all.

Rose looked like she was about to say something but wisely kept her own counsel.

“I'd better get moving,” he said. “Tommy's probably there setting up, and I need to—”

“Maddy's right,” Rose said to her daughter's profound shock. “Why don't you come in and have some coffee while Maddy makes her phone call. The sidewalk crews should be out any minute.”

It was clear Aidan was torn between wanting to get to O'Malley's and wanting to stay there at the Candlelight. He locked eyes with Maddy, then they both quickly looked away.

“Guess I could call Tommy and let him know I'm delayed.”

“Good idea,” Rose said, then turned to Maddy.

“Okay, okay.” Maddy threw her hands up in defeat. “I'll make the phone call.” She looked at Aidan. “Promise you won't leave.”

“I won't let him,” Rose said.

Welcome to the Twilight Zone
.

“YOU NEED SOMETHING, Irene?”

The nurse hovered over the bed like a bird of prey. These days Irene's imagery tended toward the vivid and frightening.

Irene cleared her throat. So dry . . . like parchment paper. Her hair, her skin, even her eyelids. So dry and thin that light passed through them like sun through an open window. The years take their toll. They demand their price.

“A picture,” Irene managed, wishing she could reach the tumbler of water on her nightstand. “The one my—” What was she? A granddaughter? Great-granddaughter? And what was her name? “I think it's on the wheelchair seat in the corner.”

The nurse rooted around here and there, then sighed. “I don't see anything.”

“The wheelchair,” Irene said. Once upon a time people had jumped at her commands. “In the corner.”

“Honey, there is no wheelchair in the corner.” The nurse leaned closer so Irene could see her face. “Jimmy took it for Mrs. Weber. Don't you remember?”

She didn't. She wasn't sure who Jimmy and Mrs. Weber were.

“I need that picture,” she said in her most imperious voice. “You must find it.”

The nurse patted her forearm with cool smooth fingers. “I'll do my best, Irene.” She straightened the covers, brushed a strand of hair from Irene's forehead, then turned to leave.

“Water,” Irene said. “I need some water.”

“Right there on your nightstand, honey.”

Irene wanted to cry with frustration. Of course it was right there. She
knew
that. Didn't they understand she couldn't reach through the metal rails on the bed in order to reach the glass? They set up situations where it was impossible for you to help yourself, and then they huffed and puffed when you called for assistance.

“Useless,” Irene muttered. “Every single last one of them.”

Her time was running out. Each morning when she awoke it was with the sense that her sunrises were limited. Thousands and thousands of sunrises had slipped by unnoticed, and now she wanted to slow down the spinning earth just long enough for her to set her private world to rights. She was a useless, pointless old woman whose life rolled on and on, sapping up time and space and money, while younger people died far too early. Her son. His wife. A granddaughter-in-law. A grandson. An endless chain of sorrow with roots buried deep inside her wicked heart.

Seeing those photos again had made up her mind. The Almighty was clearly sending her a message, and if age begat wisdom, then she was at long last wise enough to know this was a job only she could do, and it must be done now while she still had a few sunrises left.

She needed to see the photo again. She needed to see Michael's face, see the old O'Malley, touch that golden moment that had been hers for the blink of an eye. That nurse was wrong. The picture was there. She knew it was. She could see it in front of her, as clear as a bell. That Jimmy person probably tucked it under an extra blanket on the chest of drawers or maybe put it on the top shelf of the closet for safekeeping. Yes, that's what any intelligent person would do. Put it away for safekeeping.

She fumbled beneath her pillow for the proper button. No, no. Not the buzzer. The button that released the railing. Some things never changed. If you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself. . . .

 
AIDAN HADN'T BEEN inside the Candlelight since Rose's July Fourth Open House Clambake three years ago. The place had looked good then, but that was nothing compared to the way it looked now.

“You did a hell of a job,” he said, shaking his head in amazement. “No wonder you're booked a year in advance.”

Rose nodded in thanks. “It took a long time to get it to this point, but it was worth it.”

He ran his hand along a satiny expanse of wood that served as a hall table and whistled. “Antique?”

Rose laughed. “Yard sale up in Bricktown.”

She led him through the parlor, down a long hallway, to the kitchen in the rear of the house.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“If it's no trouble.”

“One thing we always have is coffee.” She poured the fragrant brew into a pure white cup. She placed the cup on a saucer and handed it to him. “Take a seat at the table. The cream and sugar are both there.”

She poured herself a cup, then sat down opposite him.

Suddenly he felt twelve years old and about to be grounded.

He leaned forward and reached for the cream. Maddy's supple voice floated toward them from somewhere nearby. He couldn't make out her words, but she sounded very happy.

“So,” said Rose, fixing him with the type of look she usually reserved for the last half hour of the Small Business Owners Association meetings, “how are things at O'Malley's?”

“We've been better,” he said. No point dodging the truth. There were few business secrets in Paradise Point.

“Still having trouble with your septic system?”

“No,” he said. “I called the plumber you recommended. Saved me a bundle. Thanks for putting me on to him.”

“That's the whole point of the Association,” she said, still looking at him with those knowing eyes. “If we share our resources, everyone benefits.”

“You really believe that?”

“For the most part, yes.”

The coffee was so good it could be a sacrament.

“Kona blend,” Rose said, reading his mind. “Incredible, isn't it?”

They looked at each other, coffee cups drawn and ready.

“So what is it, Rose?” he asked. “You don't have to entertain me while I wait for Maddy to finish up.”
I won't break any windows
.

For a moment he thought he saw her queen-of-the-world demeanor slip. She looked softer, younger, more like her daughter, and then he blinked and the resemblance was gone.

“I was going to phone you about this, but since you're here—”

“If it's about the resolution to add streetlamps near the proposed park site, I—”

“It's about Kelly.”

She had his attention.

“Since she is just seventeen, I feel she should have your permission.”

“Permission?” He polished off the rest of his coffee. “For what?”

“To work here.”

The kitchen fell into one of those uncomfortable silences.

“I take it she hasn't told you yet.”

“This is the first I've heard of it.”

Rose smoothed the sleeves of her soft gray sweater and adjusted the clasp on her smooth gold bracelet. “I ran a help wanted ad in the
Paradise Point Shopper
. Kelly came in Saturday to apply for the job and, to be honest, nobody else came close.” Her smile was warm and genuine. “She's a wonderful girl, Aidan. You must be very proud.”

“She works hard enough,” he said. “I don't think she can handle another job.”

“I asked her about her other commitments,” Rose said, “and she seemed positive she could handle it.”

“What exactly is her job?”

“Mainly table service,” Rose said. “Friday and Saturday evenings beginning in February.”

“Anything else?”

“Nothing defined,” Rose said with surprising candor, “but there might be some light housekeeping duties depending on how many guests I have and what my staffing needs are at the moment.”

“And Kelly thinks she can handle this?”

“She seemed quite sure.”

He nodded.