At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (28 page)

BOOK: At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries
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“Sophie, come out into the light,” Ellie called from the doorway. “These old photos are pretty dark, and you’re going to want to see them.”

Sophie stepped outside, the bright sunlight causing her to blink and squint.

Ellie laughed. “I did the same thing when I came into the light after being in there. I bet you’ll be happy once you have electricity.”

“That’s the first thing I want after closing next week. The second will be water.”

“Here’s a picture of my great-aunt, your grandmother, and Violet Finneran.” Ellie turned the picture over. “First Families Day, 1944. Do you love the hats? And the dresses?”

Ellie held out the photo and Sophie took it.

“Oh, God, yes. I love the dresses, and the hats … and look, they’re wearing white gloves. No one dresses like this anymore, I’m afraid.” She studied the photo for a moment, an idea forming in her mind. “Could I see the others?”

“Sure.” Ellie handed over the photos one by one,
along with a running commentary including the date and the place as nearly as she could tell for each one.

“Ellie, could I have a few of these to enlarge? I think a wall of photos of old St. Dennis would be just the thing.” She stepped back inside and pointed to the wall next to the kitchen door. “Can you see it? Right there …”

“That’s perfect. And of course, take whichever pictures you’d like.”

“I promise, I’ll get them back to you.” Sophie went through the stack again, pulling out several that she thought captured the spirit of the three girls. “What’s this, here, in the background?” She held up a photo.

“That’s the carriage house at Lilly’s. My house, now. That’s the building the historic society is restoring. The one Grace recruited you to work on?”

“Oh, right. Saturday morning.”

“Cam and I are stoked to see what’s inside, as is half the town.”

“You haven’t gone inside?”

“Can’t get the lock off. Grace said she didn’t think the chain had come off the door since my uncle Ted died. Hence the raffle to guess what’s inside. I understand they’ve already sold a lot of tickets.”

“Sounds like we’ll all be surprised when the lock and chain come off that door.” Sophie held up one of the pictures. “This is a great shot of the three girls. Croquet?”

Ellie nodded. “Apparently a favorite of Lilly’s. There are several photos of the girls—well, the ladies—playing.
Even a few of my mom playing with them when she was younger.”

“Your mother was from St. Dennis?”

“She stayed with my great-aunt a lot when she was younger, then from what I’ve heard, made trips back when she was ill, before she died.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Maybe we could use a few pictures of your mother, if you have any.”

Ellie laughed. “There are thousands of pictures of my mother. She was Lynley Sebastian.”

“The model? Like, one of the first-ever supermodels?”

“That was her.” Ellie nodded.

“We’ll definitely have to have some pictures of her on the wall, and maybe a recipe or two that she liked?”

“She didn’t really like to cook so much, and I don’t recall she had favorites, but I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“Great. Boy, you never know about these small towns. Lynley Sebastian. Dallas MacGregor. Berry Eberle.” Sophie handed back the photos she had not selected. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of them.”

“I bet your grandfather has some great shots of Rose,” Ellie noted. “I bet he’d love to have you use some of them.”

“First I have to tell him I bought this place.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. Well, you and Cam, and Jesse, but that’s about it.”
Tonight
, Sophie told herself.
I’m going to have to talk to Pop tonight
.

Cam came around the side of the building.

“Should I be sitting down?” Sophie said when she saw him.

“All in all, the building’s not in bad shape.” He leaned back against the fender of his truck. “I’ll have to go over my notes and figure out what it’s going to cost. I know that’s your concern.”

Sophie nodded.

“The wiring needs some updating. The electrical box in the kitchen notes that the last updates were in 1982, so while we’re not talking about knob and tube here, there are some new requirements that will have to be met to bring the system up to code. The plumbing looks good—no sign of old leaks that I could see—but we’ll need the water turned on to know for sure, so that’s a question mark for now. The fixtures in the two restrooms should be updated, by the way. Now, I found no evidence of roof leaks, so I’d leave it alone.”

“I’m not hearing anything that I didn’t expect,” Sophie said.

“Well, structurally, you’re okay, and that’s a good thing. But you will need an exterminator before you do anything in there. Insects and rodents—you probably already know that. And it looks like something … raccoon or squirrel … made a nest under the eaves at one time. You want to get rid of that mess. We’ll take care of that for you when we start working.”

“How did it get in, and is it out?”

“Looks like there was some loose clapboard at one time, but someone nailed it back down. So whatever was in there is gone, but it left a mess.”

“But nothing really bad so far,” Ellie noted. “That’s good, Sophie.”

“There’s a lot of cosmetic work that needs to be done, and you are going to have to find someone who can test and repair those old appliances should they need it,” Cam told her. “Once the place has been cleaned out, you’re going to have a lot of work on your hands. Some of it, I’m guessing, you’re going to want to do yourself.”

“The painting, yes. But the refinishing—the floors, the counter—and of course, the wiring and the plumbing, I’ll want you to do all that.”

“I’ll call my subs and get some prices worked up for you. I can get whatever permits you’re going to need, but you’re going to have to call the electric company, have the service put in your name, and tell them you’ll want service to begin on Tuesday. Someone from the water company is going to have to come out, locate the connection, and turn the water back on. You let me know when that’s scheduled and I’ll run the system and check the pipes the next day.”

“Okay.”

“As far as the apartment is concerned, same thing. We’ll check it out once you have water here and see if there’s any problem we need to address. Otherwise, you’ll probably want new fixtures in the bathroom and you’ll need appliances in the kitchen, and there’s a lot of peeling paper in the bedroom and the living area. That’s cosmetic, though, too. And we talked about needing the windows replaced. That goes for upstairs, too.”

“Could be worse,” she reminded herself.

“I’ll get back to you by the end of the week with
some prices on what we’ve talked about so far. I’ll stop back later with a ladder and take that sign down for you.” Cam walked around the cab to the driver’s side and opened the door. “In the meantime, if you think of anything else, give me a call.”

“I will. Thanks, Cam.” Sophie walked Ellie to the pickup. “And thanks, Ellie, for the photos and for the information. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“You’re welcome. I’m really intrigued now—can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with the place.”

Sophie stood in front of what would soon be her business and watched the pickup pull away, then went back inside. She stared at the big blank wall and tried to envision the photos, enlarged and framed, telling the story of friendships that had lasted for so many years, and still did, if you considered that Violet was still alive and still cherished Rose’s memory.

There were other stories in St. Dennis, she thought as she locked up. Maybe she could beg a few other photos for her walls. Grace Sinclair must have some early pictures of the inn, and wouldn’t photos of a young Berry Eberle—Beryl Townsend to movie buffs—be fabulous? Maybe pictures of Dallas as a teenager, and Lynley Sebastian as a schoolgirl.

She tucked the photos Ellie had given her into her bag and started the drive home, but somehow she found herself making the turn at Old St. Mary’s Church Road.
Time to talk to Pop
, she told herself.
Time to let him know what’s going on
.

She parked out front and rang the doorbell, then waited patiently for her grandfather to arrive at the door and open it.

“Hi, Pop. Can I come in?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course you can come in.” He held the door for her, then closed it behind her once she was inside. “Can we give you some dinner? Mrs. Anderson reheated some of the leftovers from Sunday before she left. There’s plenty of ham, and …”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late. I can stop back.”

“Don’t be silly.” He took her arm. “Come in and tell me what’s on your mind.”

He led her into the kitchen and, always the gentleman, held a chair out for her at the old square table.

“Let me fix you something.” He tottered to the cabinets and took down a plate.

“No, Pop, really. I’m not hungry.” The thought of putting food into her stomach made her feel even more queasy than she already was. “I just need to talk to you about something.”

He turned and looked at her for a long moment, then returned the plate to the cupboard.

“Some tea, then, perhaps. Or coffee. Jesse had Clay drop off some beer after the reception. You know, the bottles with Jesse and Brooke’s picture on them?”

“Nothing, Pop. Really. Just … I just want to talk.”

“All right, then.” He took the seat next to hers. “Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I know how happy you are that I’m here in St. Dennis, and that I’m going to be working with Jesse at the office,” she began. “I know how important it is to you that the firm remains in the family.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Of course, it’s important. Enright and Enright is a tradition in this town,
and in this family. It matters. And yes, I’m delighted that you’re part of it. Makes up for other disappointments I’ve had over the years, if you follow.”

She swallowed hard. “I’m just hoping that after you hear what I have to say, you won’t think of me as another disappointment.”

He turned to her with puzzled eyes that studied her face for a very long moment.

“What’s this all about, Sophie? Have you changed your mind about working with Jess?”

“No, no. Well, not completely.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, here it is: I bought a piece of property here in St. Dennis. The old Walsh restaurant out on River Road.”

He nodded. “I know the place, of course. Used to be one of the only places in town to get a decent crab cake. Your grandmother loved them. Nice investment, Sophie. You’ll turn a pretty profit on that land in another year or so when you sell it. I approve.”

“I don’t think you’ll approve of the rest,” she said. “I’m not buying it as an investment, and I’m not planning on selling it. I’m planning on fixing it up and reopening it as a restaurant.”

Silence followed. Lots and lots of silence. Finally, Curtis said, “Run that past me again. I couldn’t have heard you correctly.”

“You heard right, Pop. I want to reopen the restaurant.”

“What about your law career?” The frown deepened his brow. “What about the firm? Where did all this crazy nonsense come from, anyway?”

“I’ve wanted my own restaurant since I worked at one back when I was in school. Every summer for
years. I really loved it.” She forced her voice to remain calm. “And as far as the firm is concerned, I’ll still be working with Jesse, but only in the afternoons.”

“How can you possibly give your all to both?” He pushed away from the table. “How can you expect to run a restaurant and give your clients the time and attention they deserve?”

“I’ll work it out, Pop, even if I have to work until midnight every night. Mostly, I’ll be doing legwork, research, and writing briefs for Jesse’s cases. Those are things that I do very well and that he—well, he’s terrific in court, in front of a jury, but he hates the detail work, hates the research. He’ll still be the trial guy and I’ll do much of the work behind the scenes.”

“This is just crazy, Sophie.” Curtis stood unsteadily, one hand resting on the table.

“Pop, sit back down and let me talk to you.” When he didn’t move, she tugged at his hand. “Please. Let me tell you what I want to do there. Please hear me out.”

He sat back down, his face unreadable, then nodded to her to begin. She did.

Over the next hour, Sophie told him everything, about how she liked being a prosecutor but didn’t feel complete. How she’d dreamed of having her own restaurant since she first put on the apron at Shelby’s when she was sixteen. How when her mother went back to law school, she took over the cooking duties. How nothing had ever seemed as creative or as interesting or as much fun as cooking.

“Fun?” he said flatly. “It’s hard work.”

“Yes, it is. But so is law if you don’t love it. I like
being a lawyer, Pop, but I don’t love it.” Before he could comment, she told him about her plans for the new restaurant, how she wanted it to reflect the best of St. Dennis, past and present. How she wanted to honor her grandmother and her friends and others who had come before her in the community. “I want it to be a special place, a place that people will talk about when they visit the town, a place that the locals will embrace because it reflects so much of who they are.”

She told him everything she’d dreamed of doing there.

“Ellie told me that Gramma Rose was known for her pound cake,” she added. “She said her great-aunt wrote about it in a journal.”

He nodded slowly. “Pound cake with berries in early summer, with peaches in August. Some sweet apple and caramel sauce in the fall. Chocolate with cherries in the winter.” Unexpectedly, he smiled at the memory. “And sour cherry cobbler. We used to have sour cherry trees out back. They died out around the same time she left us.” He fell silent for a moment before adding, “Rose was quite the baker, back in the day. Yessir, she surely was.”

“I hope I do her memory justice, Pop.”

“No doubt you will,” he said softly. “When is all this going to happen?”

“I settle on the property on Tuesday.”

“And I’m just finding out about this now?” His eyes narrowed as his anger flashed.

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