That Chesapeake Summer (Chesapeake Diaries Book 9)

by Mariah Stewart

  “Your father had his special places and times for each of you,” Grace had told them. “It was his way of spending a little bit of individual time with you.”

  “Hmmmm . . .” Lucy had pondered. “I never got to go to Goat Island to crab, and Dad never took me down to the edge of the bay. But I do remember getting that pretty blue two-wheeler for my birthday when I was eight, and getting up early in the morning to bike-ride around town with Dad. We’d go as far as River Road, then turn around and come back before breakfast.”

  “Like I said.” Grace nodded. “Your father wanted special time with each of you.”

  Dan couldn’t deny he’d lucked out as far as his parents were concerned. He hoped that one day his own kids would feel the same way about him.

  He looked up now to see Jamie walking along the boardwalk. “Hey, Jamie.” He stood.

  “Dan.” She acknowledged him but kept walking.

  “Listen, could I, um, have a word with you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I owe you an apology.”

  “Yes, you do. Are you apologizing now?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m trying to.”

  “Apology accepted.” She resumed walking.

  “Wait. Jamie.”

  She stopped and turned halfway around.

  “Look, I was a colossal ass this morning.” He ran a hand through his hair, but it immediately flopped back onto his forehead.

  “You were,” she readily agreed.

  “I think . . . that is, I know . . . I wasn’t as angry with you as I was with myself for not realizing how much Mom missed getting together in the mornings with her friends.” He was almost surprised to hear the truth slip from his lips; he hadn’t been planning on that. “You taking her made me realize how little thought I’d given to her situation and what a rotten son I am. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m really sorry.”

  “I didn’t mind taking your mother out for coffee, and I seriously doubt that you’re a rotten son. I got to meet some of her friends, and she got to catch up on some gossip. I like your mother. A lot. She’s a terrific lady. I was glad to do something for her that made her happy. The fact that I did it and not you does not make you a rotten son. It doesn’t matter who took her where she wanted to go. What matters is that she went.”

  “Look, would you mind sitting for just a few? I’m waiting for my daughter and her friend. They have a sleepover at another friend’s house tonight, and I’m the designated parental driver.” He gestured for Jamie to sit first. This might be his chance to find out what she was looking for in those old yearbooks.

  She looked at him warily, then took a seat at the end of the bench.

  “And I suppose I should apologize for . . . you know, Diana. The dress. It’s tough being a single parent. Diana’s at the age when she needs her mother.” All true.

  “We always need our mothers,” Jamie said. “I lost mine in April, and I’m still coming to terms with the loss.”

  “Had she been ill?”

  “It came completely out of the blue. She had some heart issues that she hadn’t bothered to share with either me or my aunt. We were totally blindsided by her death.”

  “I’m really sorry.” He really was sorry. “I guess you and she were very close?”

  “I thought we were.” Her face turned away.

  “Your dad?”

  “Passed away about ten years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere near the way he’d planned.

  “Anyway, not to burden you with all that . . .” She looked uncomfortable now that she’d made the admission.

  “So you came to St. Dennis to . . . what? Just take a little time off? A breather?”

  “More or less, yes.”

  “Ever been here before?”

  “No.”

  “Why’d you decide on St. Dennis?”

  She turned and stared at him. Finally, she said, “I liked what I saw on the website. Why?”

  “Just wondering if maybe you had family here.”

  “No. It just looked like a place I’d like.”

  “Have you had time to sightsee at all since you arrived?”

  “Just a little this morning with your mother. We went for a little ride around town, and she pointed out some historic houses, that sort of thing.”

  “Did she tell you we have a historical society?”

  “No. I suppose in a town as old as St. Dennis, that’s a good thing.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t pass it.”

  “If we did, I didn’t notice.”

  The door to Scoop banged open, the bell clanging, and Diana and her friend Paige Wyler spilled out, laughing hysterically, their heads close together.

  “Oh my God, did you see . . . ?” Paige sputtered.

  “How cra’ was that?” Diana tripped over a small rock on the walkway, and the two laughed even harder.

  “Totally cra’.”

  “There they are.” Dan stood. “Over here, girls.”

  Still laughing, Diana and Paige drew closer. When Diana saw Jamie, her pace slowed. “Jamie?”

  “Hi, Diana.”

  “Hi.” Diana looked from Jamie to her father and back. “What are you guys doing?”

  “I was waiting for you, and Jamie happened to be passing by, so we’ve just been talking.”

  “About what?” Diana eyed her father suspiciously.

  “Nothing in particular.” Dan looked to Jamie, who nodded and confirmed, “Just chatting.”

  “Diana, introduce Jamie to Paige,” Dan told her.

  “Oh, we’ve met,” Paige said. “Sorta. At Scoop.”

  “That’s right, we did.” Jamie smiled. “So is Scoop closed now? I was hoping to pick up some more of that amazing ice cream I had the other day. I don’t remember what it was, but it was delicious.”

  “You had Cool Mint Jubilee,” Diana told her. “I remember. Steffie won’t close for at least another ten minutes. I think she’s all out of Cool Mint, though.”

  “Sounds like I have just enough time to get in and try to choose a flavor.” Jamie stood, then glanced over her shoulder at the bench as she began to walk to Scoop. “See you, Dan. Have fun tonight, girls.”

  “Let’s get you two over to Gabby’s before she’s calling your cell phones to find out where you are.”

  “She already called. I told her we’d be there in five minutes. What were you and Jamie talking about?”

  “Mostly about your grandmother. She’s been missing seeing her friends at Cuppachino in the mornings, so Jamie drove her there this morning.”

  “She did?” Diana paused for a moment midstep. “That was nice of her.”

  “It was. It made your grandma very happy.”

  “Jamie’s awesome,” Diana said as she climbed into the backseat of the Jeep after Paige. “I’m so glad she came to St. Dennis.”

  Dan turned the key in the Jeep’s ignition and watched Jamie disappear through the doorway into Scoop. He wasn’t psychic, but he was pretty sure she was hiding something. She definitely wasn’t telling the truth about the historical society. D.J. had seen her there, spoken with her. Why, when she had the opportunity, wasn’t she forthcoming about having been there? And what—or whom—had she been looking for in those old high school yearbooks?

  Yeah, she was hiding something, all right, and one way or another, Dan—never one to ignore a challenge—­was going to find out what it was.

  Diary ~

  I knew if I could be patient (always a stretch for me!) and focused, and paid attention to what was going on around me, I would be able to see more clearly what was afoot. I believe my patience has paid off. With dear Alice’s help, I’ve seen through that swirl and the vision was nothing like I’ve had before. While the confusi
on of what has been lifted, how to deal with this knowledge has kept me awake for the past two nights. Leave it to Alice to disappear without offering a solution!

  But here’s what I know for certain:

  That swirl of energy? Simply put, Jamie Valentine. I felt it the moment I first saw her in the lobby the night she arrived. She is both the force and the source of the unrest. The woman is on a search—it’s clear to me that it was no accident that she chose our inn to begin her quest.

  And—I know what she is searching for.

  My dilemma lies in whether or not to share what I know—after all, lives will be changed forever. I don’t often find myself in the position to make such a difference—okay, maybe that teensy little spell a few years ago that I put on . . . really, that wasn’t much of a spell—barely a muttering—­and the outcome would have been the same without it, or so I believe, but that’s not the point. That was a very small bit of meddling—but this, this thing, is life-changing. If I speak up—how to explain how I know what I know? And if I do nothing . . . the outcome could be a heartbreak that will last through all eternity and cause never-ending torment for all involved.

  Which matters most, the truth or the lie?

  All I know is that the heart of a dear friend has been in pain for a very long time, and I may have a way to help her start to heal. But is it my place to tilt fate one way or the other?

  If I do nothing, will the outcome result in a lifetime of loss?

  My instincts all tell me that I cannot ignore what I know. Perhaps the question really is, how to help Jamie see through that swirl of misting energy that surrounds her to find what she’s looking for without appearing to do so. Oh, sometimes it’s such a curse to feel, to sense, to know. And once knowing, choices must be made.

  I do not wish this “knowing” on anyone I love.

  Grace

  Chapter 9

  JAMIE!” Grace waved from across the lobby as Jamie came through the back doors from an afternoon walk around the inn’s grounds.

  “Hi, Grace.”

  “I was just going in for tea. Would you like to join me?”

  “I would, thank you.” Jamie walked next to Grace’s wheelchair.

  “We could go into the dining room or on the terrace, or . . .” Grace’s attention was drawn to the door, where Ford was wheeling a freight dolly loaded with banker’s boxes into the lobby. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I didn’t think they’d get here until tomorrow.” She tried to get her son’s attention but failed. “I’m sorry, Jamie, but I’m afraid I have to postpone our tea. I’ll have to unlock my office and make sure Ford puts all those boxes where I want them.”

  “What’s in them, if I may ask?”

  “Several years’ worth of back issues of the St. Dennis Gazette.”

  “Oh?” Jamie’s heart skipped a beat. “Which years?”

  “I have no idea. That’s the problem.” Grace started to roll her chair in the direction of her office, and Jamie followed. “I’ve been wanting to archive all the past issues, starting with the very first, put them in chronological order, you know. Right now they’re scattered here, there, and everywhere around the newspaper office. I started the project before I fell, and it’s been making me crazy that I haven’t been able to get to the Charles Street office. It’s on the second floor, and there’s no elevator. The other night it occurred to me that there was no reason why the papers couldn’t be brought to me. I can organize them here and send them back when I’m finished.”

  “Great idea.” Jamie moved ahead of the chair to open the office door and hold it while Grace wheeled herself inside.

  “So what have we here, son?” Grace asked.

  “You tell me. I just picked up ten of the boxes, as you requested, and delivered them, as you instructed.” Ford lifted the last box and set it on a table next to the others. “What else can I do for you, Mom?”

  “I think this should keep me busy for a while, dear. Thank you.” She reached up to pat her son’s cheek as she rolled past.

  “Let me know when you want me to pick up and bring over the next batch,” he said.

  “I will do that.” Grace was lifting the cardboard lids of the boxes so she could peek inside. “This is insane: 1943, 1968, 1972, all in the same box.” She shook her head. “This is going to take forever. I hope I live long enough to finish it.”

  “Maybe I could help,” Jamie offered.

  “Oh, no, dear. You have a book to write . . .”

  “The book is just not happening, Grace. I can’t even decide what to write about.”

  “Oh?” Grace tuned back in. “Want to talk about it? Bounce a few ideas off me?”

  “The truth is, I don’t have any ideas. At least right now I don’t. So it’s frustrating, you know, because I have the time now and really nothing to do. You plan on doing something, and then something happens that stops you in your tracks.” Jamie shrugged.

  “Tell me about it,” Grace said. “Still, I would never impose.”

  “It’s no imposition. You’d be doing me a favor, giving me something useful to do. And besides, who knows, maybe something in one of those back issues will inspire me.”

  “Well, if you’re sure . . .” Grace smiled.

  For a second, Jamie wondered if Grace knew her secret. The older woman’s smile was just this side of sly. Jamie dismissed the thought. How could Grace possibly know?

  “So. I say we have our tea brought to us, and we’ll do a preliminary check of these boxes, then maybe start in earnest tomorrow,” Grace suggested.

  Jamie nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Tea was requested and delivered, and while they sipped from mugs bearing the Discover St. Dennis slogan, Grace told Jamie how the newspaper had come down through her father’s family to her older brother, who’d flat-out rejected it.

  “Just wasn’t his cup of tea.” She held up her mug. “Pun intended. He wanted nothing to do with it. All he wanted was to join the navy, which is what he did. Retired after many years and went to Florida with his third wife. The paper came into my hands by default. But I’ve loved it all these years, and I still love it. Killed me to turn over so much of the day-to-day to Ford after my accident, but in the long run, it worked out just fine. Maybe the way it was supposed to.”

  “What do you mean?” Jamie asked.

  “If I hadn’t had to talk Ford into running the paper for me after I was injured, I doubt he would have stayed around St. Dennis. He wouldn’t have met Carly, and he wouldn’t have discovered that running a small-town newspaper is exactly what he was meant to do. So, win-win.”

  “Except for the fact that you’re still in the wheelchair.”

  “There is that.” Grace signed. “It was worth the trade-off.”

  “Almost sounds like magic.”

  “Almost, yes. Yes, it does.” Grace set her mug down on her desk and clapped her hands. “So. Shall we begin?”

  “Oh, wow. Check out the dates on these boxes. All the way back to the 1930s.” Jamie pointed to one of the boxes near the bottom of the pile.

  “My grandfather was still at the helm then.” Grace was clearly in heaven.

  The boxes were dusty, so Jamie dusted them off and set them side by side on the long table.

  “I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it,” Grace declared. “Jamie, go ahead and pull a box. Let’s see what we find in that first one there.” Jamie set a box on the end of the desk, unpacked the contents, and stacked the old newspapers in front of Grace.

  Grace scanned the front page above the fold. “Goodness, Pearl Harbor.” She shook her head. “This must have been one of my dad’s first assignments.”

  “So we’ll start a pile for 1941 issues.” Jamie waited patiently while Grace skimmed the issue and oohed and ahhed at everything from the social notes to the advertisements. When Grace was finished, Jamie put the De
cember issue on the corner of the desk. “Let’s see what’s next.”

  “This one is from . . .” Grace squinted. “April 1952.” She glanced up at Jamie. “Really. Where else can you skip ahead by eleven years?”

  They spent most of the afternoon sorting through boxes, with Grace reading snippets aloud, commenting on the local events that had appeared on the social page, and Jamie making piles by decade by year. She’d clearly underestimated the project. There must be thousands of newspapers to go through. She wondered if the clues she was looking for would be found hidden in one of the boxes, or if this would prove to be an exercise in futility. Maybe there was no reported social event that would tip her off, or maybe the issue that reported it was missing somehow. Even if that tidbit was sprinkled somewhere between the pages of an old paper, would she recognize it if she saw it?

  Still, Jamie scanned each paper carefully, hoping to find at least one issue from 1979, something that would tell her she was getting close.

  Jamie couldn’t help but feed off Grace’s enthusiasm. The woman was having such a great time, reliving so many memories, good and bad. The death of friends and family members brought a veil of sadness to her face, and the happy moments, the weddings, the graduations, the cheery reporting of remembered parties and holiday events, brought smiles. It wasn’t hard to get into the spirit of Grace’s discoveries.

  But by seven o’clock, Jamie felt as if her eyes were crossing and her mind was starting to spin, though Grace seemed to be totally unaffected. Jamie had stood and gone through the piles again to make sure she hadn’t misplaced anything when she felt she was being watched. She turned and found Dan in the doorway, a curious expression on his face.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey,” he returned the greeting.

  “Dan, you won’t believe what this wonderful girl is doing for me.” Grace all but chortled.

  “I heard all about it from Ford.” His eyes were on Jamie. “Nice of you to help Mom out. It’s something she’s been talking about for a long time. Must be boring as hell for you, though. All those old papers filled with stories about people you don’t know.” He picked up one from the pile, turned a few pages, then read, “ ‘Mrs. Alexander Finnegan had as a houseguest her sister, Miss Emily Jessen, from Trenton, New Jersey. Miss Jessen is pursuing her education as a high school Latin teacher.’ ” He put the paper back on the pile and, still looking at Jamie, said, “Fascinating.”