The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge (231 page)

BOOK: The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge
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“That sounds to me like a bunch of rationalized b.s.” Jesse was still frowning. “And why the rush? Why now?”

Sophie sighed. “When you get totally entrenched in something, it’s harder to move away from it. The longer you do it, the more difficult it is to give it up and try something else.” She averted her eyes. “I just feel that if I don’t do something now, I never will. I’ll be a lawyer forever.”

“And that would be bad because …?”

“Because maybe I’d be happier doing something else. Maybe law really isn’t the right thing for me.”

“Like I said, rationalized b.s.”

“Jess, I need a change.”

“This guy really did a number on you, didn’t he.”

“Yeah. He did. But the situation has also made me think about some things that I’ve been avoiding.”

Brother and sister stared at each other for a long moment.

“Look, the truth is, I went to law school because I thought that was what was expected of me. You, Dad, Mom … everyone in the family is a lawyer. Okay, Dad’s might not be the footsteps either of us wants to follow, what with the scandal and him having been disbarred and all, but there’s you and Mom. Not to mention our grandfather and uncle and several cousins. The law is like the family business, Jess. I never thought I’d have a choice.”

“Okay. I get that part.” Jesse nodded. “Sure. But what’s the alternative? What else would you do? You’ve never done anything else.”

“Not true.” Sophie smiled. “You’re forgetting about all those summers when I worked at Shelby’s. Every year, college right through law school.”

“The diner?” Jesse choked on his coffee. “You were a short-order cook.”

“I loved it,” she confessed. “That was the best job I ever had.”

“Oh, come on …”

“Nope. I loved it.
Loved
it.”

“Well, hey, there’s a little dive over on River Road that might be for sale. You could always give up law and live out your short-order fantasies right here in St. Dennis.”

She set her cup down on the table and met his eyes.

“Where,” she asked, “is River Road?”

Jesse groaned. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“No. Really. Where’s River Road?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into bringing you here,” Jesse grumbled when, fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of the old square stone building that sat in the middle of an untended lot.

“Humor me.” Sophie got out of the car the second it stopped.

“I’m trying to.” Jesse turned off the ignition. “Wait up. You don’t know what might be living around this place.”

“Like what?”

“Raccoons, rats …”

“Oooh, not raccoons! Anything but raccoons!” She feigned horror, rolling her eyes, and kept walking.

The building was perfectly square, the front door smack in the center, with big double windows on either side, both of which were boarded up. Dead vines clung to the stone as far as the second floor, and the entire front was flanked by an impressive growth of dead weeds that must have been formidable last summer. A large sign hung crookedly from the side of the building. The name of the restaurant was painted in faded green letters on what had been a white background, but dirt and debris made the sign illegible.

Sophie pointed to the sign and asked, “Can you read the name?”

“Let me see.” Jesse pretended to look from several angles. “Yeah. I think it says D.I.V.E.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Sophie took a few steps back and to the right, trying to get a different perspective.

“I think it says ‘Walsh’s.’ ”

“Maybe the people who owned the place.” Jesse appeared unimpressed.

“How long do you suppose it’s been boarded up?”

Jesse shrugged. “No idea. I only noticed the place the other day when I drove by on my way to drop off some papers at Dallas MacGregor’s office.”

“It still blows my mind that an A-list movie star like Dallas MacGregor lives in St. Dennis.”

“Not only lives here, but she’s got her own production company here now. She bought some old warehouses just down the road and is renovating them. She wants to make her own films here.”

“I heard about the studio.” Sophie stopped in mid-stride. “It’s going to be right down the road?”

“Yeah, about a half mile. Maybe a little less.”

“Hmmm …” She tucked away the information.

Her inspection took her around the right side of the building, where she found more boarded-up windows and a staircase that led to the second floor.

“I don’t know how stable those steps are,” Jesse cautioned when she started up the stairs.

“I just want to peek. I bet there’s an apartment up here.”

“If there is, it’s locked up, so you’re wasting your time.” Jesse looked at his watch. “And mine.”

At the top of the stairs, Sophie tried to peer through the windows, but the tissue she found in her bag was woefully inadequate to remove the amount of dirt that had built up on the glass. “I can’t see much,” she called down to Jesse, “but it looks like it’s totally empty. What do you suppose is the story on this place?”

“I don’t know. Violet might, though.”

“Violet who works in your office?”

“She’s lived in St. Dennis forever. If there’s a story, chances are she’d know it.”

“Good point.” Sophie descended the steps and walked around to the back of the building. More windows, another door, all boarded up.

“Seen enough?” Jesse joined.

“Almost. Any idea where the property lines are?”

“Well, you’ve got the river down there, so it could go all the way down to the river through the woods.”

She could see through the labyrinth of shrubs and bare-limbed trees all the way down to the riverbank. When summer came and the trees leafed out, that view would be obscured. The dense leafless overgrowth continued as far as the gravel driveway that belonged to the boat rental place a stone’s throw down the road to the left.

“And I’d guess that the end of the parking lot out front is the right-side line,” Jesse said, pointing toward the macadam lot.

“That cyclone fence your first clue?” She frowned at the ugly fence that ran the length of the property on the right side. “I wonder who owns that hot mess.”

Jesse shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

“That fence has to go.”

“Good luck with that.”

Sophie stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the tangle of vines and brush that surrounded the building, mentally removing it. Except for a few of the large trees that could give shade to outside diners, most of what grew there was haphazard and unsightly.

“What are you thinking?” Jesse asked.

“I’m thinking how cool this place could be if it was all cleaned up.” She turned and pointed toward the jungle that grew around them. “Clear away all that stuff and you have a great space here. You could see all the way down to the river. A patio would be perfect out here for alfresco dining. And if that fence was replaced with something that was less of an eyesore, over there I could …”

“Don’t.” Jesse covered his face with his hands and begged, “Don’t go there, Soph.”

“Why not?”

“Because this place is a mess on the outside and it’s probably even worse inside. Because you’d have to spend a fortune to make it look like anything.” He paused. “Do you have a fortune I don’t know about?”

“I have some savings and some equity in my condo, but nope. No fortune.”

“There you go, then. Look, it’s okay to dream, but some dreams shouldn’t be acted on. This is one of them. It wouldn’t be practical, sis. You know nothing about running a restaurant. And your experience cooking on the grill at Shelby’s aside, you’re really not a cook, and let’s face it, that alone isn’t enough to run a restaurant. If you want a change in your professional life, come to work with me.” He took her arm and guided her through the brush to the front of the building. “I need another attorney in the office now that Uncle Mike has retired for good. I’d actually thought about calling you, but I was under the impression that you were happy where you were, doing what you were doing. If you’re serious about making
a big-time change in your life, why not move down here and help me out?”

“Jess, you couldn’t possibly have enough work for both of us.”

“Are you kidding? There’s more than enough. Ask Brooke how many nights and weekends I’ve had to work these past few months just to keep up with my own cases while I’m taking over Uncle Mike’s.”

“I don’t know, Jess …”

“Just think it over.” He glanced at his watch again. “Right now, I have to pick up Logan. He has basketball today and I’m one of the coaches.”

“Can I tag along? I’d love to see my soon-to-be nephew.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, too. And you know the boy loves an audience.”

Sophie got into Jesse’s car and snapped on her seat belt with some reluctance. She’d have loved to explore the property a little more, would have loved to test the lock on that back door to see if she could get a look inside. She was only half listening to Jesse as he pulled away from the building and headed to Brooke’s family farm, where she and Logan lived in a house on the property. Sophie’s imagination went into overdrive. If all that ground to the left of the front of the building was part of that parcel, she could have a garden. Flowers for the tables and herbs and vegetables for the dishes she could serve. Contrary to her brother’s opinion, she
was
an accomplished cook. Granted, she’d never cooked full-time for a living, but her summers at Shelby’s had taught her a thing or two.

She shook her head in an attempt to dispel the picture
of that square stone building dressed up with window boxes spilling over with petunias and verbena, and fresh paint on the door, on both sides of which she’d plant hollyhocks and Shasta daisies and Knock Out roses.

She must be mad to even consider it.

Well, she’d be mad to consider it with the limited knowledge she had about the property, but she knew where to go to get the information she needed. Jesse wouldn’t like it, but really, would it hurt to ask?

After a cheery reunion with her soon-to-be nephew and two long periods watching seven- and eight-year-olds play their version of hoops, Sophie wandered over to the bench where Jesse and the three other coaches were trying to send the team’s next group of players onto the court.

“Jess,” she said, waving to him. “When you get a minute …”

“What’s up?”

“I think I’m going to walk over to see how Pop’s doing.” It had been a month since Sophie had seen their grandfather, and while he always appeared to be in good health, he was well into his eighties.

“Great idea.” Jesse reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Here, take my car. I’ll get a ride with Jason.” He gestured over his shoulder in the direction of the bench. “You remember Jason Bowers, right?”

Sophie glanced at the tall guy leaning over to speak with one of the boys.

“Eric’s brother. Logan’s uncle.” The guy she’d mentally
nicknamed
Uncle Hottie
. “Sure. We met at Pop’s birthday party.”

Jesse nodded. “Right. I’m sure he won’t mind dropping me off.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d like to walk. I spent so much time sitting on my butt already today, it’ll feel great to move around. The weather is mild and sunny, much nicer than what we’ve had in Ohio this winter. I’m pretty sure I remember how to get to Pop’s. Across the field to the dirt road, to Charles Street, then left on Charles until I get to Old St. Mary’s Church Road, then straight on down to the end?”

Jesse nodded, his eyes on the player who was just coming up to the foul line. “Take your time, Brandon,” he called. “Don’t rush the shot.”

“I’ll see you back at your place later on.” Sophie tapped Logan on the back to say goodbye, then headed toward the exit. Once outside, she walked across the baseball field onto the dirt road leading to St. Dennis’s main street.

It
was
a great day, and it felt good to stretch her legs and breathe in the cool, fresh air tinged with the scent of salt. St. Dennis was a pretty town, with a picturesque marina and a row of shops that sold everything from souvenirs to antiques. Sophie passed a flower shop where pansies spilled over the sides of pots lining the front window, a reminder to passersby that spring was coming. Next door was Cuppachino, where the locals met for coffee and gossip, and across the street was Sips, where hot or cold drinks to go could be purchased along with the local newspaper, the
St. Dennis Gazette
. Sophie crossed at the light and stepped inside, where she bought a bottle of water
and picked up a calendar of events that the St. Dennis Chamber of Commerce made available in the local shops. She stuck the calendar into her bag to look at later, then took a long drink from the bottle before tucking it into her bag with the calendar.

Next to Sips, the windows of the shop appropriately named Bling were filled with trendy fashions that caught her eye. On her last trip to St. Dennis, Sophie had dropped a bundle there on several sweaters, a bag, and some costume jewelry. She momentarily toyed with the idea of stopping now. She’d met the owner, Vanessa Keaton Shields, and was tempted to pop in and say hi. On the other hand, she was on a mission. Reluctantly, she walked past Bling—slowly enough to take in the lovely displays—and reminded herself to fit in a visit to the shop before the week was over. After Bling there was a bookstore, an antiques dealer, and a food market. Foot traffic in the center of town was light, but Sophie knew that once the tourist season began in the spring, the sidewalks would be crowded.

Had it been only a month or so ago that she’d fantasized about bringing Chris here to meet her grandfather? She banished the memory as quickly as it came. It was a beautiful day and she was here to put that unfaithful S.O.B. as far from her mind as she could. That so far she’d been unable to do that—that the pain beneath her ribs was still as sharp—was no reason to stop trying.

Sophie hesitated outside Brooke’s bakery with its pink-and-white striped awning and the hand-painted sign announcing the shop’s name—Cupcake—which hung in the window. Courtesy dictated that she stop and say hi to her brother’s fiancée, but the day was
passing quickly. Besides, she’d most likely see Brooke at dinner. She walked the few remaining blocks to Old St. Mary’s Church Road and turned right onto one of the town’s original streets.

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