That Chesapeake Summer (Chesapeake Diaries Book 9)

by Mariah Stewart

  Chapter 6

  JAMIE had been shocked when she awoke and realized how long she’d been asleep. She’d been planning a trip to the dining room for dinner but opted for a shower and a room-service order of Caesar salad with shrimp. As she ate, she went over her notes from that day and mapped out tomorrow’s game plan. Finding out which of the girls from the yearbooks still lived in St. Dennis was critical to her search, but she had no idea how to go about doing that. She could look through the most recent directory at the library, but she knew that many of the girls would have married, and others might not have landlines. Still, it was one more step, and the only one that occurred to her at that moment. In the meantime, she’d curl up with a good book and enjoy her second evening in St. Dennis.

  And she had done exactly that after she’d checked in with her aunt.

  “So what’s it like there in St. Dennis?” Sis wanted to know.

  “The town itself is charming. There’s a real historical vibe here, and I like that. There are some beautiful old homes and pretty streets. The inn is right on the bay, so there are water views from just about everywhere on the grounds, at least the parts of the grounds I’ve seen. All in all, it’s a pretty cool place. I’d be happy to be here even if I wasn’t on a mission.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  “I’ve only been here two days, so I can’t say I’ve learned anything.” Jamie told her aunt about the previous day’s search at the library and the historical society.

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ve found anything useful.”

  “Maybe not immediately, but I’m looking at this as a big puzzle. I think I’ll have to gather a lot of pieces before any of them begin to make sense,” Jamie told her. “Besides, I’ve just started. I think if I find the right piece, I may actually solve it.”

  “You mean find that woman.”

  “I mean discover the identity of my birth mother.” Jamie decided it was best to ignore Sis’s negativity.

  “Same thing.”

  “Not necessarily. I may find out who she is and choose not to ‘find’ her. There may be other factors to consider. We’ll see what’s what as this thing progresses.”

  “Maybe you won’t figure out who she is, and this whole trip will have been for nothing.”

  “You’re right, Aunt Sis. There’s a very good chance that I will never learn her identity. I’m prepared for that. But at least I’ll know I gave it my best. And besides, I like it here. It’s a great place to kick back and relax. You’d really like it.”

  “You promised to let me know what happens,” Sis reminded her.

  “And I will. It may take a while, though.”

  It may take the entire month I’m here, Jamie reminded herself after she hung up. I could leave here no closer to the truth than I was when I arrived.

  She knew the odds and was okay with them. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained” were the words of the day.

  Jamie thought that her next step might be to figure out which of the women on her list of graduates would have been sixteen in 1979, when she was born, which would make her birth mother fifty-two today. Sometimes yearbooks gave birthdays next to the photos. Had Jamie overlooked something that important at the library? She thought she would have noticed, but there was always that chance. She’d return this morning to check.

  And was there some sort of record of births in the town? If so, where would she find such a thing? While she didn’t expect her own birth to have been announced, was there a chance that her mother’s might have been? Her mother’s and those of how many other girls born in 1963, which would have been the year of her birth.

  Jamie made a trip back to the library after breakfast and started again. But the yearbooks did not have birth dates under the photos of the graduates, and there didn’t seem to be any sort of record of births in St. Dennis from any year.

  She stopped back at the librarian’s desk. “Is there any sort of publication that would have announced things like births, deaths, marriages, that sort of thing?” Jamie asked.

  The librarian shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “Thanks.” Jamie turned to walk away.

  “Unless maybe the town’s newspaper.”

  “There’s a town newspaper?” Jamie brightened. “Like a local press?”

  “The St. Dennis Gazette, yes. It only reports on local happenings, no hard news.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m looking for. How long has the paper been in operation?”

  “Oh, forever,” the librarian told her. “I’d guess something like a hundred years or so.”

  “Perfect. And you have old copies available?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t think anyone thought it was important enough to archive the old issues.” The librarian paused. “Though I did hear that the owner was going to do that. I don’t know if she actually started, though.”

  “Who’s the owner?” Jamie’s mind went racing. If she could locate the owner, she could see how far back the archiving had gone. Maybe as far back as the sixties or the seventies.

  “Grace Sinclair.”

  “The same family that owns the inn?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes. Same family.”

  “Where is the paper’s office located?”

  “On Charles Street. It’s the building right next to the bakery, Cupcake. Or maybe it’s two buildings away . . .”

  “I’ll find it. Thanks for the information.” Jamie went back to her table and started to pack up her notebook, which she had opened on the table in anticipation of finding some new facts. She’d just picked up her bag when her phone alerted her to an incoming text. She opened the phone and read, Dress is in! Another customer asked for same size but will hold till 5 for you if you’re still interested. Vanessa/Bling

  Jamie texted back, On my way! Thanks!

  No way was she going to lose out on that dress. After she hit Bling, she could walk up to the newspaper building and ask about the availability of back issues. Her spirits lifted all the way around, Jamie headed for Charles Street.

  She found a parking spot across the street and crossed at the light. Vanessa was at the counter helping another customer, but when she saw Jamie, she grinned.

  “That was fast.” Vanessa laughed and pointed to a rack behind her. “It’s right here.”

  “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to try it on.” Jamie took the dress from the rack and headed for the dressing rooms.

  “Good luck. I hope it fits.”

  “So do I.”

  Jamie had just undressed when she heard someone enter the other dressing room. She slipped the sundress over her head and zipped the back as far as she could reach, then turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. Was it a little lower in the front than she liked? She stepped outside the dressing room and walked to the counter.

  “Oh, wow. Look at you,” Vanessa said. “That dress is perfect on you.”

  “You don’t think it’s too low in the front?” Jamie tugged at the V between her breasts.

  “Are you kidding? I’d kill for cleavage like yours.” Vanessa turned her around and finished zipping the dress. “And I have the perfect necklace to wear with this. Come over to the counter and I’ll show you.”

  Jamie followed Vanessa to the jewelry display, and it was then she noticed the man watching her from his seat on the upholstered chair near the door. He caught her eye at the same time she saw him. He nodded to Jamie as acknowledgment, but didn’t speak. She nodded back.

  Vanessa wasn’t oblivious to the cool exchange. “Oh, right. You’re staying at the inn,” she said to Jamie.

  Jamie nodded and tugged self-consciously at the top of her dress. What was he doing there, anyway? Not that she cared. She turned her attention to the jewelry counter.

  “So Dad.” She heard a girl’s voice coming from the dressi
ng room. “What do you think?”

  Jamie turned and saw the girl from the inn and the ice cream shop. She was wearing the pink dress again and twirled in front of the man, who Jamie realized was the girl’s father. Jamie should have figured that out from the way the girl had been rolling her eyes at him the first time she saw them together.

  Before the dad could respond, Vanessa stepped in and said, “Don’t you love it, Dan? It’s perfect on her.”

  “It’s too short,” the girl’s father replied.

  “It’s not too short,” Vanessa scoffed. “What century are you living in, anyway?”

  “She doesn’t need to show off her thighs.”

  “It’s barely above her knees, old man,” Vanessa chided.

  “She’s only fifteen,” he protested.

  “She’s almost sixteen, if I recall. Old enough to have a job,” Vanessa countered.

  “Can I say something, please?” The girl was close to tears.

  “Of course, sweetie.” Vanessa’s voice was soothing. Jamie marveled at the way she was trying to ease the situation in favor of the girl.

  “I love this dress, Dad. I love the way I look in it. It makes me feel pretty.”

  “Of course you’re pretty. You always look pretty.” He sounded exasperated. “Pretty is not the issue.”

  “Pretty is the issue,” both the girl and Vanessa said at the same time.

  “Really, Ness? Do you want to make a sale that badly?”

  “Really, Dan? You don’t know me better than that?” she snapped.

  “Sorry. Sorry. That was uncalled for.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Diana, let’s finish this conversation at home.”

  “Can I have the dress? Please?”

  “I think it’s a little old for you,” he said softly.

  “Old? It’s . . . it’s age-appropriate.” Diana had noticed Jamie standing at the counter. “Isn’t that what you said yesterday?”

  Jamie was reluctant to be drawn into a family argument, but she couldn’t resist the girl’s plea for backup, and she couldn’t deny having said what she’d said. Jamie nodded. “I did.”

  “And you said it was perfect on me, right?”

  “It is perfect on you. I love the color.”

  “See, Daddy? Everyone thinks it’s perfect. Please, Dad? I really love it, and Dallas’s party is going to be so fabulous, with all those beautiful Hollywood people. Don’t make me dress like a dorky twelve-year-old.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Please?”

  Her father was wise enough to recognize defeat when he saw it. “All right. We’ll take the dress, and you can try it on for your grandmother. If she thinks it’s okay . . .”

  “Thanks, Dad.” The girl threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Yay! I love my new dress!” She danced toward the dressing room.

  “I said we’ll see what your grandmother says,” he called after her.

  “Gram will love it.” She paused outside the dressing room door. “You know she always says you’re an old fuddy-duddy.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” he grumbled.

  “Fuddy-duddy.” Vanessa grinned. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Really, Dan, you need to ease up on her.”

  “And you need to mind your own business.” He paused, then muttered, “Like that’s going to happen, since it would be a first.”

  “Well, since we’re talking age-appropriate dressing,” Vanessa said, “what do you think about Jamie’s dress? Think that’s too short, too?”

  “What?” He blushed to the roots of every hair on his head. “No. I wasn’t looking. I didn’t notice.”

  But you did. Jamie stifled a grin. Ignoring his obvious discomfort, she turned to Vanessa and said, “I think I’m good with jewelry for now. I’ll just go change.” She returned to the dressing room, grateful to be out of the drama zone.

  She and Diana exited the dressing rooms at the same time, both carrying their dresses.

  “Thank you,” Diana whispered.

  “You’re welcome. And have a great time at the party. You’re going to knock ’em dead.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Absolutely,” Jamie assured her.

  As she approached the counter, she realized that Diana’s father was glaring at her. She met his gaze head-on, unapologetic, and then, choosing to ignore him, she handed her credit card to Vanessa.

  “I loved this on you,” Vanessa said as she slipped a dress bag over the hanger. “It’s fabulous with your figure.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Try it on with those sandals you bought yesterday and see what you think.” Vanessa swiped the card and handed it back to Jamie.

  “As soon as I get back to the inn,” Jamie told her.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re staying at the inn.” Vanessa’s smile was pure mischief. “Then you must know Dan.”

  “We met briefly.” Jamie put her card in her wallet and her wallet in her bag, then picked up the dress from the counter. “Thanks again for letting me know when the dress came in.”

  “Anytime. Come back and see me again.”

  “I definitely will do that.” Jamie turned and winked at Diana, then left the shop, making a mental note to avoid Diana’s father for the rest of her stay at the inn. The look he’d flashed at her as she left was far from friendly. Obviously he didn’t care for strangers tossing their two cents into a conversation between him and his daughter.

  Jamie made another stop at the bookstore, hoping to catch the owner, but she was out of luck once again. The same young woman was at the counter and had as much information as she’d had the day before.

  “Sorry, I’m not sure when she’ll be back. Do you want to leave a note?”

  “I’ll try another time,” Jamie told her. “By the way, do you know where the newspaper building is located?”

  “You mean the Gazette?”

  Jamie nodded.

  “It’s on the other side of Cupcake.”

  “Thanks.” Jamie left Book ’Em and passed the antique shop, the grocery store, and finally, the bakery. The building next door had a sign in a second-floor window that read THE ST. DENNIS GAZETTE. The door for the paper was on the side of the building, but when Jamie tried it, she found it locked. There was no Out to Lunch sign, nor anything to indicate the hours of operation. Strange way to run a business, a disappointed Jamie thought as she walked back to the corner. Maybe she should get a number for the paper and try to call.

  The light was green for crossing, and Jamie followed the crowd to the other side. She followed several into Cuppachino, where she stood in line to order an iced coffee. She sipped the drink as she walked back to her car. It was cool and refreshing, and she was sorry that she hadn’t ordered the larger size. The cup was empty by the time she got back to the inn, and she tossed it toward a trash can at the edge of the parking lot after she parked and locked the car. She missed the can by about a foot and was walking over to pick it up when she heard footsteps behind her.

  “Not only can she not mind her own business, she can’t shoot, either.” Dan reached the trash can before Jamie did and picked up the cup.

  “I was going to do that,” Jamie told him.

  “Of course you were.” He flipped the cup one-handed into the can and continued on his way, his long legs carrying him to the double doors, through which he disappeared.

  Jamie followed, cursing under her breath. He was starting to bring out the worst in her, and that wasn’t her nature.

  Determined to put him out of her mind, she went straight to her room and hung up her dress, then went to the balcony to read her email on her phone. An hour later, her stomach growling, she went downstairs for lunch in the dining room. After a walk around the grounds, she went back to her room and googled the St. Dennis Gazette. She was disappointed to find an Under Con
struction—Stop Back Again Soon! notice on the website. There was a phone number, but when she dialed it, she got voicemail. She hung up, then debated whether she should have left a message. She called back and left her name and number and hoped that someone would actually listen to it.

  She listened to her own voicemail and returned a call to her agent, who wanted to talk about foreign rights and to check in on the status of the book Jamie was supposed to be writing.

  “It’s coming along,” Jamie told her.

  “Great. If you want to send me a chunk, or if you want to talk about it . . .”

  “No, I’m good for now,” Jamie assured her.

  She hung up feeling guilty for having told a bald-faced lie. She had no clue what she was going to write. She’d always believed in what she wrote. An honest life was a life worth living, her parents had told her, and she had believed it. She believed in honesty in her relationships and had tried to put her words into action in her own life. And yet here she was, lying through her teeth to someone who was always on her side, someone who would help her if only she asked for it.

  Finding out that your entire life has been a lie puts a whole new spin on that whole honesty thing, she thought wryly.

  She turned on her laptop and opened the file where she’d made notes about a possible theme for the new book, and for the rest of the afternoon, she played around with a few of the ideas. By the end of the day, she’d deleted everything she’d written and was back where she’d begun, at a blank page. It was tough to write about honesty when you felt like a fraud. She turned off the computer and decided to go downstairs for dinner, then come back up and try again.

  She walked into the dining room, requested a table by a window overlooking the bay, and was shown to the perfect spot for watching the boats as they returned to the marina. She was scanning the evening’s menu when she looked up and saw a woman in a wheelchair approaching the table. The woman looked to be in her seventies and was tiny, almost birdlike, her white hair pulled back in a loose bun; her left leg was wrapped in a cast that probably weighed more than she did.