The Long Way Home (42 page)

“Oh, come on …”

“Nope. I loved it.
Loved
it.”

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

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

“Where,” she asked, “is River Road?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually entertaining this idea.” Jesse grumbled when, fifteen minutes later, he was parking his car 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, rolled her eyes, and kept walking.

The building was perfectly square, the front door smack in the center, a big double window on either side, all of which were boarded up. Vines covered the stone to the second floor and there was an impressive growth of weeds around the entire front. A large sign hung crookedly from the side of the building. The name of the restaurant was painted in dark green letters on what had been a white background, but dirt and debris made the sign illegible.

“Can you read the name on the sign?” Sophie asked.

“Let me see.” He pretended to look from several angles. “Yeah. I think it’s D-I-V-E.”

Ignoring the 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 name of the family that 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.” Sophie started around the right corner of the building.

“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.”

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 had 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 the place is 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 to the riverbank. When summer came and the trees leafed out, that view would be obscured. The dense 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 pointed toward the macadam lot.

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 the outside diners, most of
what grew there was haphazard and unsightly and would have to go.

“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 even see the river. Wouldn’t a patio be perfect out here for al fresco dining? And over there …”

“Don’t.” Jesse covered his face with his hands. “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?”

“Nope.”

“There you go, then. Look, it’s okay to dream, but this one’s not 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. 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.”

“More than enough. Enright and Enright supported both our grandfather and our uncle for many, many years. And 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. It’s a generous offer, and I appreciate it.”

“So think it over.” He glanced at his watch again. “Right now, I have to get back and pick up Logan. He has softball today and I’m one of the coaches.” Logan Bowers, the son of Jesse’s fiancée, was eight years old and a budding slugger.

“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 the ballpark while her imagination went into overdrive. If all that ground to the left of the building was part of the 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 about restaurant cooking.

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 joyful reunion with her soon-to-be nephew and three long innings watching seven- and eight-year-olds play their version of softball, Sophie wandered over to the bench, where Jesse and the three other coaches were trying to get the team’s batting order straightened out.

“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 few months 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.

“Brooke’s late husband’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 for the offer, but I think I’d like to walk. I spent so much time sitting on my butt today it’ll feel great to walk. Besides, the weather is gorgeous. I’m pretty sure I remember how to get there. Out of the park 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 bat. “Take your time, Brandon,” he called.

“I’ll see you back at your place later on.” Sophie tapped Logan on the back to say goodbye, then set out across the field toward the dirt road that led to St. Dennis’s main street.

It
was
a gorgeous day, and it felt wonderful to stretch her legs and breathe in the fresh air that here, so close to the Bay, was tinged with the scent of salt. Set right on the Chesapeake, St. Dennis was a pretty town, with a picturesque marina and its row of shops that sold everything from souvenirs to antiques. Sophie passed a flower shop where pansies spilled over the sides of their pots and lined the sidewalk to tempt early spring gardeners. Next door was Cuppachino, the place where the locals met in the mornings for coffee and gossip, and across the street was Sips, where 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 purchased an iced tea 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 stepped outside, pausing to take a long refreshing drink through the ridiculously curly straw that the grinning teenager behind the counter had stuck into her iced tea.

She pushed the straw as far as it would go into the paper container. “Cute,” she muttered. “I feel like I’m at a five-year-old’s birthday party.”

The windows of the shop next to Sips, accurately named Bling, were filled with trendy spring fashions that caught her eye. The last time she’d visited 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. She knew the owner, Vanessa Keaton Shields, and would love 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 in the windows—and promised herself a visit to the shop sometime over the coming week. Next were a bookstore, an antiques dealer, and a food market. She hesitated outside Brooke’s cupcake bakery with its pink and white striped awning and the hand-painted sign that hung in the window announcing the shop’s name—Cupcake. Courtesy dictated that she stop and say hello to her brother’s fiancé, but it was already late in the afternoon. 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.

Sophie reached the block where the old town square began. Budding magnolias and newly bloomed azaleas hung over the brick walkways that led to the square’s center. From her grandfather, she’d heard how the townspeople had gathered here for centuries to discuss whatever issues currently concerned them, from preparing a strategy against the British to escaping destruction during the War of 1812 to hearing the local candidates for town council square off.

Across the street from the square, a modest sign identified the handsome redbrick building on the corner as the offices of Enright & Enright, Attorneys at Law. Sophie had heard but lost track of how many generations of her family had practiced law beneath the slate roof. If she were to take Jesse up on his offer, she’d be part of that chain that stretched back several hundred years. She paused on the sidewalk out front, contemplating the possibility. She dreamed of leaving her current situation, of a life that offered something new and different. Joining Jesse at the firm would be a compromise that she wasn’t sure she wanted to make. Was only half the dream worth pursuing?

The front door opened and an elderly woman stepped onto the porch. She held a grocery bag in one arm and
her handbag in the other, and she appeared to be struggling with the door. Sophie hurried up the walk to offer a hand.

“Here, let me help with that.”

The woman turned sharply, a guarded expression on her face.

“Oh, Sophie,” she exclaimed, her expression softening. “You startled me.”

“I’m sorry. I should have called out to you. Can I take that bag for you?” Sophie reached for the groceries.

“That’s very kind, dear.” Violet Finneran handed the bag over without protest. “I don’t know what possessed me to load up that bag the way I did. I left the car at home this morning because it was such a beautiful day—I just love these early spring days, don’t you?—and I stopped here to bring in the mail and of course one thing led to another and here it is, almost four in the afternoon …”

“It happens to the best of us.” Sophie waited while Violet successfully locked the door. “Did you say you left your car at home?”

“I did.” She hoisted the shoulder bag a little higher and reached for the bag of groceries.

“I have them,” Sophie told her. “I’ll walk with you. You’re just a few blocks down and one street over, is that right?”

“What an excellent memory you have.” Violet nodded. “But I don’t want to take you out of your way.…”

Sophie shook her head and slowed her pace so that the older woman could keep up. “I’m walking to my grandfather’s house, so I’m going your way.”