Summer on Moonlight Bay

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Summer on Moonlight Bay Page 7

by Hope Ramsay


  “Yeah. At the end of the week.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Seems like you guys have a lot of packing to do. I mean, I haven’t seen anything but the mudroom and laundry but…”

  “Yeah, well, Momma’s being stubborn.” A wave of annoyance replaced the surge of sexual attraction. “Are you finished?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure. Just give me a minute to put on some clothes.”

  He stepped back out into the mudroom and started pacing. He truly disliked the idea of Momma and Lia getting friendly with each other. He didn’t want her nosing around his family, digging up his secrets and parsing through his issues.

  Plus there was something uncanny about her. She had organized the clinic the way a professional in clinic management might have, and yet she claimed to have no knowledge of veterinary care. She’d done a lot of little, unexpected things, like alphabetizing the standard medications in the pharmacy, and organizing the exam rooms so that each one had the usual cotton swabs and dog treats but also a spray bottle of disinfectant. And she’d set up the computer workstations in each exam room and joined them to the local area network.

  Finally, but not least of all, she’d left him a long list of intelligent questions about regulatory issues, such as the posting of hazmat warnings and OSHA information.

  He couldn’t have set up the place better himself. It was almost as if she’d read his mind.

  And the way she’d looked at him a minute ago…had turned him on.

  She emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, with her wet hair pulled back as it always was, but this time in a ponytail that left a wet stain on the back of her gray T-shirt. Did she have anything in her wardrobe other than gray T-shirts? He suddenly wanted to know.

  “Bathroom’s all yours,” Lia said. “Hey, do you mind if I hang out for a minute? I’d like to check the place out, you know, since it’s coming up for rent.”

  He didn’t really want her hanging around for some reason he couldn’t quite articulate.

  “Uh, this isn’t a good time,” he said.

  “Okay, I can see that. It’s getting close to dinnertime. But I have a couple of questions. So you said it has three bedrooms?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s the rent?”

  Noah gave her his best guesstimate. He had no idea what Momma was paying Josh Moore for the privilege of living in this craphole. Probably a lot more than the number he quoted because housing costs were ridiculous in Magnolia Harbor. Even so, her big brown eyes widened. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. It’s expensive living here.”

  “And you’re sure there wouldn’t be any restrictions on me renting out the rooms? I’m thinking maybe I could find the clinic a vet tech and offer him or her a room here.”

  “Really. You’re looking for staff at the clinic?”

  She shrugged. “It was just an idea, you know.”

  “They can’t find a vet.”

  “Well, you could solve that problem. You could take the summer off and—”

  “Then the house wouldn’t be available.”

  “True. That would be a problem.”

  “Look, I’m tired and dirty and—”

  “You know,” she said, “I got the feeling that your mom doesn’t want to leave. Why are you so hot to take her away from the home she loves? And where is Abby going to stay?”

  “Abby’s coming with me.”

  “Is she? She seems to really like her job, and—”

  “I thought you were excited that I’m taking my mother and sister back to the mainland? I thought you wanted to sublease this house?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, but not if someone loses the home they love.”

  “This is not the old home place. My mother is a renter, not a—”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s still her home.”

  A wellspring of frustration and guilt fountained up inside him. Why the hell was this woman, this stranger, suddenly on his mother’s side? It was more than merely annoying. It was as if she could see through him, after already inspecting him from head to toe to crotch. “Do you mind? I’d like to take my shower.”

  “No problem.” She headed toward the outside door, but before she crossed the threshold, she turned and looked over her shoulder. “Just so you know, I’m going to camp out at the clinic again tonight. So you don’t need to check on Prince.”

  “Great. Fine. I’m glad to hear it.”

  She met his annoyance with a big smile and warm brown eyes that made him feel like a total jerk. What was it about Lia DiPalma that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and other parts of his body too?

  “See ya,” she said right before she turned and breezed through the door.

  * * *

  At seven o’clock on the dot, the first member of the Piece Makers, the quilting club Ashley Scott’s grandmother had started in 1942, arrived at Howland House. Donna Cuthbert flew through the front door, her big blouse following her like a multi-colored contrail as she bustled down the hallway into Ashley Scott’s newly renovated kitchen.

  “You won’t believe what I have to tell y’all,” Donna said, then seemed to deflate when she realized she was the first to arrive. “Oh, it’s just you.”

  Ashley didn’t take offense. Clearly Donna was in possession of some juicy gossip and wanted a bigger audience for the reveal. The Piece Makers may have been making quilts for seventy-odd years, auctioning them off at the Christmas Bazaar every year and funding a variety of charitable causes supported by the Episcopalians and the Methodists, but the main reason they gathered weekly was to gossip. They loved juicy news, and they had an ironclad rule that what was said at a Piece Makers meeting remained there.

  “Have a slice of hummingbird cake,” Ashley said, handing Donna a cake plate.

  “Oh, my word, I love hummingbird cake. And no one makes it the way you do, honey. It’s exactly like your grandmother’s.”

  Ashley smiled. Not because she was privy to her late grandmother’s secret recipe for hummingbird cake, because she wasn’t. Grandmother hadn’t had any such thing. Grandmother used the recipe published in Southern Living forty years ago and still available online. But Ashley wasn’t about to tell anyone that. She pretended she had a stash of secret recipes, and no one had called her on it yet.

  Plus it seemed to make the Piece Makers happy to think she was carrying on some grand tradition. And she was. She did love Tuesday nights with her grandmother’s friends. And now that Jenna St. Pierre had been included, the group didn’t seem quite so geriatric.

  Donna took the plate and dug in while several additional members of the club arrived. First came the sisters Sandra Jernigan and Karen Tighe, who were also Ashley’s cousins. The sisters looked alike but couldn’t have been more different in temperament. They helped themselves to cake. Ashley expected Donna to explode with her news, but she remained silent. This must be something big, something Donna wanted to announce to the entire group.

  Barbara Blackwood showed up next. She was Donna’s younger sister, but for some reason, managed to look about ten years older. She was the sourpuss of the club.

  She took one look at the cake and turned up her nose. “You know I hate pineapple,” she said with a sniff. It was a wonder, really, how the Piece Makers expected Ashley to produce a scratch-made cake every week but never failed to express their disappointment if she made something someone didn’t like. Fortunately, hummingbird cake was everyone’s fave, except for Barbara. Knowing this, Ashley had also made a batch of brownies just for her.

  And the inn’s guests, of course.

  Nancy Jacobs came next. She was tall, almost six feet, had red hair that came right out of a bottle, and talked in a near whisper. You always had to lean forward just to hear what she had to say. Which was a shame, really, because Nancy had a lot of wisdom to impart.

  Jenna St. Pierre, Ashley’s friend and business partner, arrived next, followed in short order by Patsy Bauman. Always last, Patsy believed in making grand entrances. D
onna held her tongue until Ashley placed a cake plate in Patsy’s hand, and then Donna put her own empty plate down on the marble countertop and said, “Y’all will not believe what I have to tell you.”

  “What is it, Donna? You look like you’re ready to bust at the seams,” Patsy said, a twinkle in her gray eyes. Patsy pretended to be a fine-mannered southern gentlelady, but she lived for gossip. And when there wasn’t any good gossip, she was prone to making up stories about the guests who stayed at Howland House.

  She had missed her calling. Everyone agreed she should try to write one of those cozy mysteries she was always reading because Patsy could make up the most entertaining stories when she put her mind to it.

  “There’s a woman who just arrived in town,” Donna said in a conspiratorial tone. “Her name is Lia DiPalma, and she was in the navy with Reverend St. Pierre. But here’s the thing: I have a feeling she might be special to him, you know. Like a girlfriend.”

  The moment these words left Donna’s mouth, something unhitched inside Ashley. Why would she care so much about the preacher having a girlfriend? He was a neighbor, but that was all. True, Jackie, Ashley’s eight-year-old son, enjoyed spending time with him. But really, the preacher wasn’t a good influence on her son, seeing as he took far too much delight in being descended from pirates, and Jackie had a weird—some would say unhealthy—fascination with pirates. To the point where Jackie had an imaginary pirate friend named Captain Bill.

  His counselor believed Captain Bill was a stand-in for Jackie’s father, Adam, who had been killed in Afghanistan three years ago. Patsy Bauman and half the Piece Makers were convinced that Captain Bill was the ghost of the dread pirate William Teal, whose ship had broken up in the inlet two hundred years ago. Everyone, even Jenna, thought Ashley should advertise Howland House as a haunted B&B.

  Ashley was not about to do any such thing. Grandmother, who had lived in this house all her life, would be so disappointed if Ashley ever fell back on that kind of commercial exploitation of the family history.

  “I don’t think Micah has a girlfriend,” Jenna said, breaking into Ashley’s jumbled thoughts. “I mean, he’s never mentioned one to my husband.” Jenna’s husband was Micah’s younger brother. “Has he ever mentioned one to you?” Jenna turned in Ashley’s direction.

  Ashley shook her head. “No. I never got the feeling there was anyone special in his life.” Was that why she was so shocked by Donna’s news? Why her heart was suddenly tapping erratically on her ribs?

  “Well, y’all may think he’s some model of celibacy, but this woman went to the rectory last night expecting to spend the night. And Abby saw them together at Rafferty’s having lunch this afternoon. He was holding her hand.”

  “No, really?” Sandra asked.

  “Just because he was holding her hand doesn’t mean a thing,” Karen said. “I mean, he’s a preacher. He holds a lot of hands on a daily basis.”

  “Good point, Karen. Did that woman spend the night at the rectory?” Patsy asked.

  “No. He apparently turned her away. She slept at the clinic,” Donna said.

  Everyone looked at Donna as if she’d sprouted a second head. “So he’s celibate?” Patsy asked.

  But Jenna spoke at almost the exact same moment. “Why would she be sleeping at the clinic?”

  “She brought an injured dog to the clinic,” Donna said. “The poor thing had been hit by a car. She found it on the road into town. Anyway, it was hurt bad, and I convinced Noah to come save its life. Lia left the dog with us, but came back an hour or so later. Noah said she didn’t have a place to stay because she couldn’t stay at the rectory. He didn’t elaborate on the reason why. And since he needed someone to look after the dog, he let her sleep at the clinic on an air mattress.”

  “Wait, I’m confused. If Micah didn’t let her stay at the rectory, then what makes you think she’s his long-lost girlfriend?” Ashley asked.

  It was her time to be on the receiving end of the disbelieving stares. Everyone but Patsy Bauman gave her the look. Patsy, on the other hand, had a serene expression on her face, as if she knew something no one else knew. Which was probably right.

  “Well,” Karen said slowly, as if she was explaining something simple to a dunce, “if this woman was just a friend why wouldn’t he let her stay in the spare room? On the other hand, if he didn’t trust himself, then—”

  “What does she look like?” Patsy interrupted.

  “Oh, she’s cute as a button,” Donna said. “Big brown eyes, long dark hair that she wears in a bun, all nice and tidy. She’s got a nice shape, and she’s got her heart in the right place. After all, she rescued that dog. And to top it off she isn’t any kind of clothes horse. You know? Always in simple gray T-shirts, like a navy vet.”

  “Does Micah know that she’s sleeping on the clinic floor?” Patsy asked.

  “Well, you know how hard it is to find a place to stay in this town the week before July Fourth if you don’t have a reservation,” Donna said.

  “If this is the woman in the preacher’s life, we need to do something,” Nancy said, and for once her voice was loud enough to carry.

  “You could give her that room upstairs,” Patsy said.

  “I— No. That’s not a guest room,” Ashley said, suddenly aghast at the thought of housing the preacher’s girlfriend. “I mean, it doesn’t have an en suite bath, and it’s on the third floor in the private area of the house.”

  “I wasn’t talking about renting it. We should let her stay there if she’s our minister’s friend. Besides she’s a vet without a home. It’s possible that he wouldn’t let her sleep at the rectory precisely because he was worried about gossip,” Patsy said, giving the assembled women a knowing look and little half-smile. “We need to introduce ourselves to this woman. Check her out. And decide what to do about her.”

  “What on earth do you mean?” Ashley asked.

  “Well, if she’s really a close friend and she’s suitable, we should try to hasten things along.”

  “What things?”

  “Matrimony,” Karen said with emphasis.

  “You’re joking. You can’t do that.” Ashley’s voice went up a few notes in alarm.

  “What do you mean, dear? Of course we can. In fact, it’s our duty. He’s in his late thirties. He needs a wife. And, as it turns out, I happen to know something about this woman,” Patsy said, her smile growing wider. “Micah was in the navy with her. He was her commanding officer for a while, and I suspect the non-fraternization rules got in the way of their relationship. In any event, he’s asked the church board if he can hire her as his secretary. Apparently she is a whiz at organizing things. He told us that his nickname for her is Radar, like the character in the old TV show. Anyway, he called all the members of the church board this morning. The subject is now on the agenda for the next regular board meeting on July eighth.”

  “Well, I can attest to her organizational skills. She spent all day unpacking boxes at the clinic and setting everything up, just so. She even got Noah to give her a list of what to do,” Donna said.

  “Really?” Jenna asked. “You think we can talk him into staying for the summer?”

  Donna shook her head. “I don’t think so. But the good news is that Lia organized things down there.”

  “Well,” Patsy said, “at the very least, she might make a wonderful secretary for our church, and at the most, she might be someone special for our preacher. I’d say the first order of business is to get her off the clinic floor. We can’t have that. Even if she’s merely one of the preacher’s friends from his navy days.”

  Patsy turned on Ashley. Here it came, the request that was more like an order. Ashley was a member of the Heavenly Rest Altar Guild, and Patsy, the chair, was very good at pulling rank. “You’re the only person who has a room available, honey. And it’s not as if you’re going to rent it. We’re just going to make it available so the minister’s friend has a place to stay while she visits. Because, you know, it prob
ably wouldn’t be appropriate for her to stay at his house even if she’s just looking for a job at Heavenly Rest. But, on the other hand, I have it on good authority that the preacher often comes over for breakfast here. So that would be a perfect opportunity for you to make sure they sit together. You know?”

  Oh yes, she knew. And she didn’t bother to argue that the minister would probably spend his breakfast talking like a pirate to Jackie. Because that was a whole other can of beans she didn’t want to open for discussion.

  * * *

  Bright and early Wednesday morning, Lia rolled up her sleeping bag and started deflating the mattress. The air leaking out seemed like a metaphor for her current situation. Her hopes had gone a bit flat.

  How could she sublease Molly Cuthbert’s house, knowing that the woman didn’t want to leave town? She had the uncanny feeling that Dr. Cuthbert would be leaving town at the end of the week, but without his mother or sister. So she was still homeless.

  And without any prospects for a home.

  It struck her, as she stuffed her sleeping bag back into its sack, that homelessness was a familiar state for her. Every time a move didn’t work out in the first few weeks, Mom would pile Lia and her brother Justin into the car and move on to the next place. Until this moment, Lia hadn’t fully appreciated the difficulties Mom faced every time she started fresh. On the other hand, if Mom had stayed put, maybe…

  But Mom had been born under a wandering star.

  Lia had a strange urge to call her little brother, but it might take some time to figure out how to get in touch. She hadn’t called him in more than two years. Like her, he’d joined the military and found a home there. Last she’d heard, he was part of the US Forces Korea, stationed at Camp Humphreys in Pyeongtaek.

  What would Justin say about her current situation?

  Would he talk to her at all? They had been semi-estranged for years and years, ever since that time when Mom broke up with David Cooper. Justin had never forgiven Lia for her part in that disaster.

 

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