Coming Home (8 page)

“Oh. I …” the woman stammered. “I don’t think …”

“Do I have your size?” Vanessa came out from around the counter and walked toward the woman, who watched her with some curiosity. “You look as if you’re … what, a size ten?”

She flipped through the hangers with ease.

“You’re in luck. One size ten left. Here you go.” She handed the hanger to the woman and pointed off to the right. “The dressing room’s right through that door. If you love it, maybe I could take a little off the price, since it’s your first time in St. Dennis.”

“That would be really nice,” the woman replied, but made no move toward the dressing room.

“Did you want to look around a little more first?”

“Oh, no. No, I’ll just take this in …” The customer backed toward the dressing room.

“Take your time.”

Vanessa strolled over to a stack of khaki shorts and straightened out the pile, then refolded some cotton T-shirts.

“How are you doing?” she called to the dressing room.

“All right.”

“Does the dress fit?”

“Yes. It fits just right.” She hesitated before adding, “It sure is pretty.”

A few moments passed before the woman emerged from the dressing room with the dress on the hanger.

“What did you think?” Vanessa asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” the woman told her. “Maybe I’ll come back with my husband and see what he thinks.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Vanessa assured her. “Would you like me to put a hold on it for you? Just in case?”

“Oh, I don’t know …”

“It’s not a problem. There’s absolutely no obligation. But if you decided you wanted it, I’d hate to see you disappointed if you came back and found it had been sold. What’s your name? I can hold it as long as the weekend. We start to get real busy on Fridays now that the weather is getting warmer. But I’d be happy to hold it until then for you.” Vanessa took the hanger and hung the dress on a stand near the counter. “What’s your first name?”

“It’s Candy. Candice.”

“Candice, it is.” Vanessa wrote on a piece of paper, which she then attached to the hanger with a straight pin. “Hold till Friday for Candice,” she read the note aloud.

“Thank you,” the woman said softly.

“My pleasure.” Vanessa reached for the little porcelain dish near the cash register that held a stack of business cards. “Take one, in case you need to call.”

The woman picked up a card and appeared to study it.

“If you don’t call or stop in by noon on Friday, it’ll go back onto the floor. And if you decide you’d like it, I’ll take off twenty percent.”

“That’s real nice of you.”

She appeared about to say something else when the door opened and Steffie came in, grinning and looking like she had a tale to tell.

“It’ll be in the back room if you come back. If I’m not here, just tell whoever is that Vanessa put a dress in the back for you.”

“So you’re Vanessa,” the woman said softly.

“Yes. But anyone can get it for you if I’m not here.” Vanessa smiled as she walked toward the back room, the dress over her arm. “My brother’s getting married this weekend, so I’ll be in and out for the next few days.”

“Oh. Will the wedding be in St. Dennis?”

“Will it ever.” Steffie answered for Vanessa, who’d disappeared into the back of the store. “Ness’s brother is the chief of police and he knows everyone in town.”

“The police chief?” Candice repeated.

“Yeah, and the woman he’s marrying is a county criminal investigator, and all her brothers and cousins are FBI agents. God forbid anyone should think about committing a crime in St. Dennis over the weekend.”

“God forbid,” the woman agreed as Vanessa came back out to the shop floor. “Well, thank you for letting me try on the dress.”

“Of course. Come back anytime.” Vanessa walked her to the door and held it open for Candice to pass through. She waved good-bye from the door and closed it behind her.

“What a slow day,” Vanessa complained to Steffie. “That was it as far as customers go.”

Steffie glanced at her watch. “It’s early yet. It’s a nice, warm sunny morning. By two this afternoon, the sidewalks will be packed.”

“So what’s put that shit-eating grin on your face this morning?”

“Guess who I had coffee with while you were trying to make your first sale of the day?”

“I couldn’t even begin to guess.”

“Mountain Man.”

“Oh, Grady?” Vanessa tried to appear disinterested. “Where’d you run into him?”

“Across the street at Cuppachino. He was there with Beck and the other brother who’s going to be in the wedding and his wife.”

“Andy. Dorsey is his wife.”

“Right. And I’m here to tell you, the man is not all that dull.”

“Really? Couldn’t prove it by me.” Vanessa refolded a stack of T-shirts. “I met him at Hal’s party the other night. I wasn’t impressed.”

“You lie.”

“No, seriously. I wasn’t at all …”

Steffie started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Vanessa raised an indignant eyebrow.

“Did you know that when you try to tell a lie, your eyes shift to one side?”

“You’ve been watching too much TV,” Vanessa grumbled.

“Seriously, Ness.” Still grinning, Steffie rested her el bows on the counter. “How could you not be impressed? He’s good-looking, articulate, smart, interesting—”

“You got all that over one cup of coffee?”

“And a cheese Danish.”

“A Danish?” Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the water diet you were on a few days ago?”

“This was a special occasion.”

“Well, since you so obviously think this guy’s got it all, I say go for it.”

“Thanks, but he’s not my type.”

“Stef, you just finished telling me that he’s—”

“He’s all those things I said. He’s a really nice guy. But …” Steffie shrugged. “No spark. Know what I mean?”

Vanessa stared at Steffie. “I’m … speechless.”

“I know.” Steffie grinned. “I could hardly believe it myself. But you know how I always know the minute I meet a guy if there’s ever going to be something there or not?”

Intrigued, Vanessa nodded.

“Well … nothing.” Steffie held up both hands. “Nada. Zilch.”

“Wow. Who’d have guessed it?” Vanessa’s eyes began to twinkle. “The first really hot single guy to hit St. Dennis since I moved here, and Steffie isn’t feeling the love. I guess stranger things have happened. Perhaps not in my lifetime, but still …”

“There is an explanation.”

“Do tell.”

Steffie leaned over the counter. “I heard that Beck invited Wade MacGregor to the wedding and that he’s coming in on Friday. And that he isn’t bringing a date.”

“I saw the name on the guest list, but I don’t know who he is.”

“He’s a guy who used to pal around with my brother. He and Beck used to sail together.”

“Just a guy?”

“Just
the
guy. As in, the guy I wrote about in my diary. The guy I walked three blocks out of my way every day just to go by his house. The guy who broke my heart when he took Krista Blackwell to the prom junior year.”

“How about senior year?”

“I don’t remember who he took his senior year, but my senior year, I wanted to ask him but my mom wouldn’t let me.”

“Why not?”

“Because she thought he was too old for me.”

“How much older?”

“Like, four years.”

“That’s a lot when you’re in high school, Stef. He’d have been in college already.”

“He was. I invited him to my graduation party, and he came and brought me flowers.” Steffie’s eyes took on a dreamy look. “I made him kiss me out back near the grape arbor.”

“What happened next?”

“You mean after the kiss that set the standard for the entire rest of my life and has never been duplicated?” Stef made a face. “He was outta there so fast I barely even saw him leave. Left me brokenhearted. Never wrote, never called.”

“So you would want to see him again … why?”

“I guess just to see what I missed.”

“Uh-uh. Wrong answer.”

“There’s a right answer?” Steffie frowned.

“Yes. The correct response would have been, ‘So that he can see what
he
missed.’”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Steffie fluffed up her long blond hair.

“So where’s he been all these years?”

“I don’t know. No one ever really seems to talk about him. Everyone talks about his sister, of course. His sister is … wait for it now.” Steffie paused dramatically. “Dallas MacGregor.”

“Dallas MacGregor, the movie star?” Vanessa’s eyes widened. “I did hear that she was a local.”

“Not exactly. Her great-aunt is a local, lived here all her life. Still does, even though she’s like a million years old by now. Dallas used to visit a lot when she was a kid. Believe it or not, she and my brother had a thing going once upon a time. When their dad died, her mother and brother moved in with the great-aunt for a while so that Wade could go to school here. Dallas was older than Wade and she was already in college by then. She did come back in the summers, at least, until Wade finished high school and their mom moved away. You always see stuff in the magazines and newspapers about Dallas, but I never hear much of anything about Wade. I imagine someone in town knows what he’s been up to. Beck must hear from him.”

“I’m sure Beck knows. Want me to pump him?”

“No, thanks. He’ll know why you’re asking and he’ll tell Wade. I’d rather ambush him.” Steffie grinned.

“Well, then, have you gotten a dress yet?” Vanessa walked to the front of the shop. “Because if you haven’t …” She pulled a silk sheath in pastel water-colors from the rack. “This little number just happens to be your size.”

“Ohhh. Gorgeous! The colors …” Steffie reached out with both hands. “Gimme …”

Vanessa laughed and handed over the dress. “You know where the dressing room is.”

Minutes later, Steffie stepped out wearing the dress and pronounced, “I am an absolute goddess in this dress.”

“Oh, my. You certainly are.” Vanessa nodded. “It’s perfect on you.”

Stef looked at the tag and gulped. “Think I could get the same twenty percent off that you offered the woman who just left?”

“I can do better than that. Since it’s so perfect for you—and I admit I did think of you when I ordered it in—I’ll give it to you at cost.”

“Gasp.” Steffie held a hand to her heart.

“The offer comes with strings.”

“Anything. You name it. Lifetime unlimited ice cream—delivered to your door. A flavor named after you …”

“Loan me one of your girls to cover the shop for Saturday afternoon until closing. Nan is working for me on Thursday and most of Saturday, but her grandson is being christened on Sunday in Virginia and she needs to leave on Saturday by four. I’ve asked everyone I can think of. I just need someone until seven. All she’ll have to do is turn off the lights and lock the front door.”

“What about your cash receipts?”

“They can wait until Sunday morning.”

“Don’t you think that might be tempting fate? Oh, I know, there hasn’t been a robbery on Charles Street in years, but still.” Steffie went into the dressing room to change.

“Maybe I’ll stop in after the reception.”

“I’ll talk to Cathy about it. She’s my best counter girl. I’ve had her close for me several times.”

“That would be worthy of a deep discount,” Vanessa said. “But that raises the question of what you’ll do.”

“I’ve had several of the others close for me from time to time.” Steffie emerged from behind the curtain with the dress. “But even if I have to leave the reception for a bit to close up both our shops, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” She opened her bag and withdrew her wallet. “And I’d say we have a deal …”

    It was almost dark when Vanessa locked up and walked the three blocks to her house on Cherry Street. There had been a brief shower earlier in the afternoon, and the rain had washed some of the tree pollen from the sidewalks, leaving the air clean and fresh. She inhaled deeply as she strolled along, admiring the spring flowers her neighbors had planted. The entire front yard of the small brick Colonial on the corner of Cherry and Mavis was planted in yellow and red tulips that brightened the entire block. Three houses up, the owners had planted hundreds of mixed daffodils. And farther up, one house in from the next corner, sat Vanessa’s pride and joy. She never minded the walk, because she never grew tired of catching that first glimpse of her house as it came into view.

Off-white clapboard with a high slate roof, gables on each side of the second floor, and two deep porches—one front, one back—the house was a hodgepodge architecturally, but she’d fallen in love with it the minute she saw it.

“It’s a bit of a bastard child, architecturally,” Hamilton Forbes, the Realtor, had told her while he unlocked the front door that Saturday afternoon back in September. “I’d be hard-pressed to put a name tag on it. It’s not quite Colonial, not quite Victorian, though it does have features of each. The layout suggests a bungalow, but it was built before that style became popular. It’s in desperate need of updating and hasn’t been painted in God knows how many years, but it’s sturdy and the mechanicals are decent. The estate is leaving the contents, so you’ll have furniture. Some of it is pretty good, actually, and God only knows what’s in that attic. Everything has been covered since Miss Ridgeway’s death.”

Vanessa had barely heard a word once she’d stepped inside. There were hardwood floors and an oddly placed mantel on one of the dining room walls. White sheets covered every piece of furniture in the place. There were several bay windows and a kitchen with a real nook that overlooked the backyard. She’d all but sprinted past the Realtor to get to the second floor, where there were three good-size bedrooms and one tiny one, and one and a half baths. A door led to an attic that had thick wooden rafters and lots of dark corners in which boxes holding who knew what were stacked. She’d run back downstairs to the kitchen, and unlocked the back door. She stepped out onto the porch, her eyes sweeping across the backyard hungrily. She knew next to nothing about plants, but her mind’s eye filled in the empty beds with color and the dry fishpond with water, koi, and water lilies.