Coming Home (13 page)

Vanessa had wanted to make a toast of her own, but after listening to Hal, she found she was incapable. Every thought she had stuck in her throat. How to put into words, in a room full of near strangers, what his acceptance of her had meant to a young woman who had felt so lost, so unsure of herself, so totally alone? How the welcome she’d been given by Beck and Hal both had given her direction and the sense of place, the sense of herself, that she’d needed?

Well, maybe tomorrow at the wedding I won’t feel so weepy
, she told herself.
Or maybe not. Either way, it’ll be all right. Beck and Mia know how much I love them, how I want so much for them to be happy. And that’s the important thing, right?

She cleared her throat and blotted under her eyes with her fingers. When she felt Grady’s eyes on her, she turned to him and said, “Sorry. I usually don’t cry in public.”

“Me, either,” he said, and they both laughed.

He leaned closer and whispered, “You may not have noticed, but there’s hardly a dry eye in the place. Like Andy said in his toast, Mia was the only girl in the family, and she’s had a rough couple of years lately. To see her this happy … well, let’s just say we’re all happy for her, and we’ll leave it at that.”

“Were you all overbearing big brothers when she was growing up?”

“We were merciless,” Grady admitted. “We all kept an eye on her. Made her life a living hell when she started getting interested in boys. Any guy who looked at her twice got worked over. You know how it is.”

“Actually, I don’t. But I wish I had. I might have made some better choices.” She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them. To change the subject, she told him, “Hal said he was thinking about taking the boat out again tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. You might want to go. I’m sure he’d be happy for the company.”

“Are you going?” He repositioned his leg under the table, and for a moment, it rested against her bare thigh, so that the soft fabric of his khakis brushed her leg. The old Vanessa—the one who’d been so needy for attention—would have taken that casual bumping of knees as an invitation. The new Vanessa—the one who’d learned a lot about herself since she moved to St. Dennis—kept her shoes on her feet and her feet to herself.

“I wish I could, but I need to work,” Vanessa explained. “I’ve been out of my shop so much already this week, and I’ll be out all day Saturday. I have someone really good filling in for me, but you know that no one takes care of your own business as well as you do.”

“True enough.” He moved slightly to the right while the waiter refilled his wineglass.

Vanessa put her hand over the top of hers to indicate she didn’t care for a refill. She smiled at the waiter and he moved on to the other side of the table.

The staff served an excellent meal, and soon the chatter inside the room was almost deafening. It was fun, though, Vanessa thought, to be part of a group like that, even if it was for just a little while. It was almost like being part of a big family. She studied the easy way the Shields cousins teased each other, the playful way they traded insults, the stories they told about each other, the shared history that bonded them and kept them close. She listened wistfully, wishing she’d had that growing up. Much of the time, Maggie wasn’t around when she got home from school or in from play. Most days, there was no one to tell that she’d fallen in the school yard and hurt her leg, that she’d been laughed at when she didn’t know how to properly pronounce a word, that she’d gotten the highest grade on her history test, or that the teacher had hung her artwork on the bulletin board outside their classroom. Her childhood was not one she cared to look back on very often. She’d been lonely and neglected, and many times, she’d been afraid. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment to squeeze away the images that haunted her.

“Are you all right?” Grady leaned over to ask.

“I’m fine.” Vanessa flashed a smile.

“You look like you’re a thousand miles away,” he said.

“Close enough,” she murmured.

The pretty cake she’d ordered from Sweet Somethings was served with coffee, and before long, it was clear that the evening was winding to a close.

“Are you coming back into the bar with us?” Grady asked. “Andy’s challenged me to a game of darts.”

“It’s tempting, but actually, I was just thinking that I should be getting home. I have an early day tomorrow.” She pushed her chair back and stood.

His hand was on her wrist as if to hold her there.

“You sure?”

She nodded. “I have a lot of catching up to do since I was out all day today.”

“Well, thanks for letting me join in the fun today. And thanks for saving me for the crab dip. You were right. It was the best.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for your help today. If you hadn’t come by, I’d still be in the kitchen, rolling out endless little hearts.” She was tempted to grab onto the hand that encircled her wrist and just hold on for a moment, but she resisted. “By the way, how did the samples measure up?”

“There’s not a crumb left. That should tell you something.”

“Good. Then I suppose they’ll do.”

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He let go of her wrist, then pushed back his seat and caught Andy’s eye. “What time is dinner tomorrow night?”

“Seven,” Andy replied as he held the chair for his wife. “Hey, Grady, do you have a minute? There’s something I want to run past you …”

“Sure.” He turned back to Vanessa. “Let me know if you need any help icing those cookies.”

“I know where to find you.”

She kissed Hal and Beck and Mia, waved good night to everyone else. She went back through the bar and the main dining room, and was almost to the door when she felt it again: that feeling of being watched. It was so strong that for a moment she thought of going back and asking someone to follow her home.

Silly
, she told herself.
Shake it off
.

She left by way of the side door that opened directly into the parking lot. She walked across the macadam and opened her car with the remote when she was almost upon it. She’d read somewhere that if you used the remote to unlock your car while you were still a distance away, anyone following you would know which vehicle was yours, and that it was open, and that could put you in danger. The parking lot was still full. Who knew who or what could be lurking there?

She shook her head as if to shake out the uneasy feeling and drove home with one eye on the rearview mirror. There were no cars behind her as she made her way from Walt’s at the far end of the pier to Kelly’s Point Road past the municipal building where the police department had its offices, and past the long parking lot that, at the height of the tourist season, would be filled even at this hour. No car followed her onto Charles Street, and she drove up Cherry alone.

She pulled into her driveway, and noted for the first time how dark it was between her garage and her house, how the trees along her neighbor’s side of the drive made it seem even darker. She really should have a light installed outside, she thought, one that would illuminate not only the garage, but the entire yard and drive. Maybe one of those motion-sensor things that lit up when someone came within so many feet of the house or the garage.

She was glad she’d had the presence of mind to leave some lights on in the house, and once she was inside, the door closed securely behind her, the feeling that unseen eyes were following her lifted. She even felt a little silly for letting her imagination get the best of her. Still, first thing tomorrow she’d call Stan Wescott, and have him get right on those outside lights. Tonight, she’d lock her doors, check her windows, and try not to spook herself any more than she already had.

    Grady’s participation in the impromptu darts tournament had been short-lived. Beck had knocked him out in the second round, and he’d spent the rest of the evening spectating and cheering on his brother, who lost to Hal in the finals. The losers paid up in beers at the bar, and soon they were all sitting around a table trading dart stories. Then they talked cars, followed by fish tales of questionable veracity. Finally, the topic of conversation turned to law enforcement, and everyone had a story or two to share.

“The worst crime scene I ever saw …”

“The dumbest guy I ever arrested …”

“There was this time I was sent to Maine to work on a serial-killer case …”

“I was in Arizona on a child abduction …”

Grady tuned it all out. He’d been a damned good agent in his day, but he left the Bureau because he found he could no longer separate the good memories from the bad. He’d found peace in his mountains, but even that was proving to have run its course. He’d told Mia that he’d made a life for himself there, and it was a good one. But if nothing else, being back with his family this week, seeing his old friends again, reminded him that the life he’d left behind hadn’t been so bad, after all. The thing was, he liked what he was doing, really enjoyed being a wilderness guide. He loved hiking, camping, and he’d found it easy enough to support himself doing just that. Of course, his expenses were minimal in Montana. He owned the house outright, and his car had long been paid for. His biggest expenses were food and enough wood to keep the woodstoves going in the winter when the oil truck couldn’t get through.

It both amused and annoyed him that his sister seemed to think that he spent his days sitting in a corner, sucking his thumb and watching game shows. Amused, because it was so far from the truth, and annoyed because, well, because it was so far from the truth that he couldn’t believe that she honestly believed it. He’d have to set her straight one of these days.

The entire wedding-week extravaganza amused him, as well. There’d been many weddings in their large family over the past few years, but none of them had taken a week to build up to. His own wedding to Melissa had been spur of the moment. They’d eloped, an act he’d later regretted when he realized how it had hurt his family to have been shut out. He’d never make that mistake again. Not that he was looking to get married again anytime soon, but still, these few days with his family reminded him why sharing the moments of your life with people you love who love you back was important. Sometimes you just needed a little tap on the shoulder.

He was enjoying spending some time with his brother and his wife, and was looking forward to the cousins all returning to St. Dennis over the weekend, a place he was enjoying as well. The town had a pace of its own, certainly different from Montana, and definitely different from any other place he’d lived in the past. He’d never lived near water before, but he was finding that he liked seeing the sun on the Bay every morning from the window of his room at the Inn. Yesterday, after his trip with Hal, he’d walked back down to the dock and watched the other fishing boats come in, and he’d lingered to listen to the banter of their occupants. There was an easy rhythm to life here in St. Dennis, one he found appealing.

He leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Mia’s, and watched her face as she looked up at Beck. There was such love in her eyes, and in the eyes of her future husband. He and Melissa must have looked at each other that way at one time, but he couldn’t remember. There were more and more days when it was harder to recall what her voice sounded like, or what her skin felt like against his. It wasn’t that he was trying to forget her, it was just that life moved forward, not backward.

Someone put money in the old jukebox at the far side of the room, and music began to play. Tables were pushed aside, and several couples—two middle-aged and a pair in their twenties—moved onto the makeshift dance floor and swayed to a song he didn’t recognize. Moments later, an older couple joined them. They appeared to be in their eighties, the woman spry, the man not so much. He moved slowly, his feet shuffling side to side, but he held the woman in his arms and held her gaze lovingly in his. They continued to sway together, the woman looking up at her partner as if he were the only man in the world.

Well
, Grady thought,
I suppose for her, he is
.

The man leaned down and placed a kiss on his wife’s cheek, and Grady looked away. The moment had held such bright intimacy and love, it was almost blinding, like looking into the sun.

That’s what he wanted for Mia, he thought: The kind of love that lasted through all the years and all the changes and all the stages of life.

And for himself? He didn’t think the cards held a great love for him. He’d been more aware of his aloneness tonight than he’d been in a long time. He didn’t feel especially lonely, most times, but just, well,
alone
. He watched the other dancers on the floor for a few more minutes, his mind drifting along with the music. Another song began to play, this one soft and sensual, and it took his mind to other places. Like back to the dinner table, where his leg had been pressed up to Vanessa’s, and she hadn’t moved it away. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about her, but three truths came to mind, now that she was in his head. One was that he hadn’t felt so alone yesterday, at her house, when they’d shared cookie duty. The second was that he’d been very much attracted to her from the minute he first saw her. Pretending that he hadn’t been hadn’t made it so.

And the third was, if Vanessa had stayed, he’d have asked her to dance.

Chapter 8

WHEN Vanessa strolled into Cuppachino a little before eight on Friday morning, she found a few of the Charles Street merchants already at the table they favored near the front of the room. She waved to them on her way to the counter to order her usual—half decaf, half regular, whole milk, half an artificial sweetener—and joined them after Carlo, the owner, served her in her personal mug. It was brown and had BLING! in pink in the same feminine script as on the sign that hung over the shop’s door and on the shopping bags in which her customers carted home their purchases. Carlo’s wife was a potter, and every merchant in St. Dennis who frequented their shop had their own mug decorated with the name of their business. He kept the mugs lined up on a shelf behind the coffee bar, in order of their geographic location on Charles Street.