Home to Stay (5 page)

CHAPTER 5

B
y the time Will arrived at Opal’s for their regular Tuesday girls’ night, Sid and Beth were seated with their desserts, including Will’s rhubarb pie. Beth looked tired, but well enough to be out getting treats.

“I heard she’s pushy, but I guess you have to be in that line of work,” Beth was saying as Will took her seat. “Word is the photographer’s a real charmer.”

“He is,” Will said, dropping a napkin across her lap. “British. Long hair. Pretty eyes.”

“You met him already?” Sid asked around her bite of chocolate cupcake. Sid did love her chocolate. “How did that happen?”

“They stopped in at Dempsey’s on the way into town. I didn’t know who they were at first.” If only she’d known. “I thought they were tourists.”

“That explains it.” Beth wiped her mouth. “Yvonne says the first thing the woman asked Sam Edwards was if he knew you.”

“What?” Will nearly choked on her pie. “Why would she do that? Sam doesn’t even know me.”

“That’s what
he
said, according to Yvonne. This King woman commented that you had one of those familiar faces, then dropped the subject.”

What could a travel reporter possibly gain from asking about Will? It wasn’t as if anyone on Anchor Island knew her secret. No one knew her face had been front page news once upon a time. And she certainly wasn’t an important enough part of the island to garner this kind of attention.

“I don’t know what she expects people to tell her,” Will said, trying to play the whole thing off. “I’m not that interesting.”

“Maybe she likes you.” Sid raised a brow.

Will remembered how Rebecca King had looked at Randy as if he belonged in Opal’s display case. “Trust me. That’s not it.”

“I’m just saying. You’re kind of hot, in that lesbian sort of way.”

Will looked at Beth, who had spit a piece of carrot cake into her hand. “Where does she get this shit?”

Beth shook her head, coughing and waving a hand in front of her face. “I don’t know, but that one nearly killed me.”

Sid smacked Beth on the back. “Take a breath, Curly. If you die, Joe will kill me.”

“Why do we hang out with her?” Will asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Don’t look at me,” Beth said. “She’s your people.”

“No way in hell I’m claiming her.” Will noticed a day planner under Beth’s plate. “What are you hiding under there?”

“Oh.” Beth set down her fork and slid the notebook from under her plate. “This is my life at the moment. Everything for the wedding is in here.”

“I’m trying to get her to hand it over,” Sid said, slicing what was left of her cupcake into three large pieces. “The doc says no stress, and that means no more handling every single wedding detail on her own.”

“Lola tried to sneak this out of my bag, but I caught her.” Beth held the book with a death grip.

“You have to let us help you.” Will held out her hand. “I swear to you, on Sid’s life, that we’ll set everything up exactly how you want. If the slightest thing goes wrong, you can bury her at sea.”

“Who needs enemies when I have you two shits in my life?” Sid shook her head and returned her attention to her dessert. “She won’t give it to you.”

Beth handed Will the planner. “All the numbers and details are in the back.”

“What the fuck?” Sid said.

Ignoring her, Beth continued. “You’ll have to stay on the tent company to make sure they’re prepared to be here and set up at the slightest chance of rain. Opal is taking care of the cake, but make sure she knows the delivery time. The florist is over in Hatteras, so you need to make sure they schedule plenty of time in case there are ferry delays.”

Will felt the heavy weight of stress travel from Beth to herself. She’d figured everything would be done by now and she’d maybe have to arrive early to answer questions. This sounded like a full-time job, with more responsibility than she had running Dempsey’s.

And Sid’s life was on the line. Which was still a funny joke, but in all seriousness, Will had to make sure this was perfect for Beth.

“My dress arrives this Friday, so I’ll need you two to come with me for the fitting and try on your dresses.” Beth pointed a finger at Sid’s nose. “And do not argue with me. You’re wearing a dress. And heels. No boots.”

Her finger floated to Will. “That goes for both of you. I know you like the skirts-with-combat-boots look, but that’s not going to happen on my day.”

A moody, pregnant bridezilla had infiltrated Beth’s body. Will hoped the old Beth would return when the event of her life had gone off without a hitch.

Now, to make sure there were no hitches.

“We’ll be there and we’ll wear whatever you want.”

Sid opened her mouth, but Will silenced her. “We’ll wear whatever Beth wants us to wear, and we’ll like it. Right?”

“This is why I want to elope,” Sid muttered.

“If you rob me of the chance to put you in a real wedding dress,” Beth said, “I will hunt you down and beat you until you can’t get up.”

Sid blinked several times, then looked at Will. “Who is this woman?”

“I don’t know,” Will said, loading pie onto her fork. “But if this beatdown occurs, I’m selling tickets. We could make a killing.”

Beth finished her carrot cake, sat back, and yawned. “That was good. I think I might have another.” It was as if the temper she’d just displayed had dissipated into thin air. “I
am
eating for two, so the doctor said I could eat anything I want. Maybe I’ll try the cherry pie.”

Going from carrot cake to cherry pie sounded disgusting to Will, but then some people hated rhubarb pie and she loved it. There was simply no accounting for taste.

“Oh, one more thing,” Beth said, the cherry pie momentarily forgotten. “The tuxedos have been ordered, but Randy’s has to be specially altered. They don’t carry them in his size on the rack.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Will asked, not expecting an answer.

“You’ll have to go with him up to Kill Devil Hills to get fitted. That’s the closest place I could find.”

Wait. What? “Why do I have to go with him? He’s a grown man. He can go by himself.”

Beth held out her hand. “Fine. Give me the planner back.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“The only way to make sure he gets the right vest in the right color and the right fit is to make sure a woman goes with him. I planned to go.” Beth pointed at the little tan book in Will’s hands. “Now you’re taking over, so you have to go.”

What a load of…

“Sid can go with him.”

Green eyes narrowed as Beth leaned forward. Will leaned back.

“I’ll go with him. Geez. You’re scary when you’re like this.”

Beth sat back and smiled. “Time to get my pie.”

As their friend moved to the counter, Sid whispered to Will, “Are all pregnant women that schizo?”

“Think of it this way,” Will said. “At least we’re not Joe.”

“Amen to that.”

By the time Randy had returned home Tuesday evening, his face hurt from smiling and his entire body felt as if it had been hooked to a live wire for the last nine hours. Playing tour guide was bad enough, but Rebecca King asked more questions than any woman he’d ever met. He understood that went with the territory, considering she was writing an article about the place, but the woman never took a breath.

One day had tested his endurance. He might have to cry uncle by the end of the week.

First on the itinerary for Wednesday was Lola’s Island Arts & Crafts, where at least there would be other people to answer the questions. Rebecca had been silent on the short drive as she reviewed the information Sam had provided for the businesses they would visit that day. Jude had alternated between sipping his coffee and napping.

“Here we are,” Randy said as he pulled into the gravel lot in front of the art store. “Stop one for the day.”

“Wow,” Rebecca said. “It really is that blue.”

Randy glanced toward the small building. The color was a bit bright. Maybe he’d seen it so often, the boldness didn’t register. “The color matches the owner’s personality. Lola is a force of nature.”

“I’ll take some pics out here and meet you two inside,” Jude said, removing the camera from his bag. “This place has great character.”

Randy took his enthusiasm as a good sign. The more they found to appreciate about the village, the better the article would be.

A bell jingled overhead as Randy pulled the door open for Rebecca to pass through. She stopped inches inside the entrance, making it difficult for him to step in and shut the door without being pressed up against her.

Randy opted to remain in the doorway.

“It’s like an optical illusion,” Rebecca said, her eyes taking in the wide expanse of space. “You’d never know any of this was possible from outside.”

“We get that a lot.” Lola LeBlanc joined them at the entrance with a genuine smile. Her colorful dress floated around her as the breeze from the open door caught the material. “You must be Ms. King.”

“I am,” Rebecca said, clutching her notebook under one arm and extending a hand. “And you must be Ms. LeBlanc.”

“Please, call me Lola.” With a conspiratorial wink, she added, “We don’t go for much formality around here.”

“And so far that’s one of my favorite aspects of Anchor.” Finally stepping farther into the store, the reporter lifted a shimmering silver vase from a display. “This is beautiful. I can see I won’t be leaving empty-handed today.”

Lola laid a finger beside her nose. “I’d be disappointed if you did. Let me show you the rest of the place.” The two women moved farther into the gallery of eclectic art and pottery. “We don’t have many visitors this early in the season, but then that’s why you’re here. Oh, before we go too far, I want to introduce you to the woman I could not live without.”

Randy lingered in the front display area, letting the women pull ahead. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a statue of a woman a few feet to his right. From a distance it looked like black marble, but moving closer he picked up the dark purple hues. She was slender and elongated, her arms holding up long swirling tendrils of hair that looked more like black fire.

The body twisted and leaned back slightly as if standing against a strong wind. Around her feet danced dark flames, and her face looked graceful but strong. The figure exuded confidence and sensuality, while the body language made it clear no man deserved her. This woman knew who she was and the power she held. One name came to Randy’s mind.

Willow.

She could have been the model for this sculpture, if the artist hadn’t conjured this figure strictly from imagination. Either way, whoever created this piece had a great understanding and respect for the female gender. Which led him to assume the artist was likely also a woman.

After checking the price, he made a note to come back for the large piece. He even had the perfect place to display it. Randy shuffled on to find the women he’d abandoned when the bells over the door sounded again. Jude stepped in and repeated Rebecca’s frozen amazement.

“Bloody hell. It’s a freaking magic trick.” Catching Randy’s eye, he asked, “Is this place run by Mary Poppins, by chance?”

“Not exactly. But the owner does have a similar way about her.”

“This I’ve got to see.” Jude ambled through the front of the store, glancing right and left as he went. Stepping into the main gallery, he lifted his camera without hesitation and took some shots. “Who’d ever expect to find all this here?”

Assuming the question was rhetorical, Randy remained silent and followed behind. They found the women in the jewelry section and stepped into an ongoing conversation.

“Beth teaches jewelry-making classes for the tourists and does some craft classes for us islanders during the off-season.” Lola stood behind Beth’s right shoulder, beaming. “She also runs the place most of the time, allowing me to enjoy time off with my sweetie.”

“What does your sweetie do on the island?” Rebecca asked.

“Oh, Marcus does as little as possible if he can help it. Says he’s retired and plans to enjoy his golden years.” The blush was barely visible on Lola’s ashen cheeks. “But he does handle the island newsletter and enjoys some amateur photography.”

“Then I definitely want to meet this man,” Jude said, making his presence known. “Jude Sykes. I’m the picture taker of this crew.”

“And a right pretty picture taker at that,” Lola said, drawing a blush from the woman in the chair beside her. “Lola LeBlanc, owner of this establishment, and Beth Chandler, my right-hand woman.”

“I like you right off.” Jude winked at Lola. “This place oozes charm, Ms. LeBlanc. We’ll definitely want to use it in the spread. The colors are phenomenal.”

“The place is a direct reflection of its owner,” Beth said, speaking for the first time since Randy and Jude had joined them. “When I came to the island last year, this is the first place I visited thanks to her colorful flyer.”

“You arrived on Anchor Island a year ago?” Rebecca asked, taking the chair Lola offered. The men remained standing, with Jude wandering off to snap more pictures.

“Yes, ma’am. It’ll be exactly a year in a few weeks.”