Rachel leaned back against the seat, glancing at the man who was her father. “You are a very good person, Dad. You and your friends. Really trying to ‘repair the world.’ Taking ‘tikkun olam’ to heart.” She referred to the Hebrew phrase, one of the tenets she’d learned as a child.
She saw his face turn red at the compliment. He wasn’t used to them. At least not from her.
“We can’t fix the whole world, Rachel. Just one situation—one person—at a time.”
But he hadn’t fixed her when she’d needed him most. He hadn’t even tried to help during her awful teenage years. Never told her she was pretty. His own daughter! Even now, she winced.
She thought of her students. How the best results for troubled youngsters came from one-on-one attention. “You’re right, Dad. One at a time. But maybe it adds up to something.”
Lou nodded, pulled into the parking lot and into a spot. Rachel got out of the car, and the aroma of rich coffee assailed her. She looked toward the entrance of the diner, glad to see the familiar place looking good. The building was a white one-story affair with port-hole-type windows aligned high on the walls. Large picture windows were beneath them.
“And your sign’s still there!” Rachel pointed to the red-and-white wood carving above the entrance. “Home of the ROMEOs.”
Her father laughed. “Laura, whom I just mentioned, thought Romeo was the last name of the owners.”
“I bet she was surprised….”
They pushed the door open and automatically walked toward the back, where five men sat around a large table in the center of which was propped a Reserved sign. Rachel’s glance went immediately to Bart Quinn, who stood up and waved her over.
“A sight for my sore eyes, you are, my dear. Welcome home, and give me a hug.”
A chorus of welcomes echoed Bart’s and she greeted Sam Parker, Doc Rosen, Chief Rick O’Brien and Joe Cavelli.
“You all look wonderful,” said Rachel as she bestowed each with a kiss on the cheek. “I hear you’re all keeping busy, just like my dad.”
“Surely, we are,” Bart said.
“I’ve no doubt about you,” Rachel replied. “You’re still running the ‘largest and oldest’ real estate and property management company in the county. Or at least as much of it as Lila allows you to.”
“She is getting bossy, now that you mention it,” Bart replied with a grin. “But I don’t mind. And I get to see a lot of little Katie. A crackerjack, my great-granddaughter.”
Rachel nodded in acknowledgment. Lila’s seven-year-old daughter had personality to spare and made her presence felt. No doubt she was good medicine for the old man.
“And Joe, are you still working at the garage with Charlie?”
Joe Cavelli nodded. “A few hours a week, more when I’m needed, like right now. Summertime is busy. But at the end of the day, we go down to the Lobster Pot and get a pretty decent meal.” He winked at her, and Rachel laughed aloud at his understatement. The Lobster Pot was a first-rate seafood house owned and operated by Joe’s daughter-in-law, Thea, and her sister, Maggie. Both women were Bart’s daughters. Lots of family connections among these ROMEOs.
“I’ll have to treat myself to a meal there before I leave,” Rachel said. Then she turned to Doc Rosen, who immediately put up his hands.
“I’ll admit, I’m truly retired. Probably the only one who admits it around here!”
The other men protested vigorously. “He runs to whomever calls him,” said Lou.
“Remember when Shelley Anderson’s little girl almost drowned?” asked Rick. “Doc was first on the scene. Even got there before I did.”
“And when my son, Matt, needed medical information to understand Laura’s situation,” began Sam Parker, “who did he go to? Max Rosen—that’s who!” Sam banged the table for emphasis. “And now I have a brand-new daughter-in-law. My grandsons have a mother, and my son’s a happy man building a new house.”
Rachel reached for Sam’s hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad for you all. Well-deserved happiness for the Parkers.”
“One more dream left to be fulfilled,” said Sam, “and I’ll be content.”
“Amen,” said Bart, glancing at his friend.
Rachel’s eyes darted from one man to the other, knowing they shared the dream of Jason Parker returning home one day soon. Sam’s younger son and Bart’s granddaughter, Lila, had been inseparable until the night of their senior prom when Jason’s identical twin brother had been killed. Eight years was a long time for him to be on the run—not from the law—but from his own pain and from the people who loved him.
“Has anyone heard from Jason at all in recent times?” asked Rachel quietly as she finally sat down at the table, her dad next to her.
“Not directly,” said Chief O’Brien. “Two months ago, we thought we had a lead. A piano man fitting his description was seen by one of my buddies in a night club in New York City. Matt rushed down to investigate, but it wasn’t Jason at the keyboard.” Rick fiddled with his silverware. “Our Jason is smart. Really knows how to lay low. No paper trail. No salary stubs anywhere.”
Rachel pressed her lips together to bottle up her words. She’d known Jason Parker, of course. All Pilgrim Cove kids knew one another as they grew up. No one knew, however, that after she’d left town, she’d seen Jason. Only one time and by accident—on a Mississippi riverboat.
She’d been teaching in the Midwest for a short while and had joined a group of friends for a fun weekend. On the first night out, she thought she spotted a familiar profile across the boat’s casino as a young man dealt cards. But it wasn’t until she heard the piano in the lounge later that night and recognized the piece and the style, that a chill ran through her. She’d swiveled toward the instrument, and there sat twenty-year-old Jason Parker at the keyboard.
He’d paled when he saw her, but then looked her in the eye—and turned away—deliberately. She got the message and wasn’t insulted. They’d both left Pilgrim Cove to make their own way. Each had issues to resolve and neither one was ready to return home. Jason knew that Lila was waiting for him, but it wasn’t Rachel’s business to urge him to go home. She knew what her own reaction would have been if anyone had tried to push her.
Now she looked around the table at the diner. What would be the purpose of revealing her unexpected encounter with Jason at this late date?
“Your mother and I almost saw him a couple of months ago when we were on vacation in California,” Lou said. “When we got to Los Angeles, we found a flyer for a pianist named J.J. Parks at the hotel. And even though the picture was in shadow, I knew it was him.”
“But you didn’t see him?” asked Rachel.
Lou shook his head. “His engagement had ended the night before we got there. We tried to find out his itinerary, and we tried to find his manager or agent. We asked questions, but no one had answers.”
Jason would have made sure of that, thought Rachel.
“So who’s having what this morning?” A new voice joined in. It belonged to a petite blonde who’d raced to the table, kissed Rick quickly on the mouth, then escaped from his roving hand. Rachel noticed, however, that Rick’s face had turned ruddy.
“Hello, Dee. Or should I say, Mrs. O’Brien?” Rachel smiled at the woman. “How’s married life?”
“Rachel!” Dee embraced her tightly. “You look great. How was the interview? Think you’ll get the job?”
Whew! The sixty-year-old spitfire hadn’t lost an atom of energy.
“You know as much as I do,” Rachel said. “I gave it my best shot. Now we’ll have to wait and see.”
Dee’s foot was tapping, her expression thoughtful. “It’s August already. August 7.” She looked at Bart. “What do you have for her in case she’s back here in two weeks with no time for house hunting.”
“Good question,” Rachel said. “I grew up a block from the beach. I don’t suppose there’s anything available before Labor Day right on the ocean, is there?”
“But what about staying with…” Lou began.
Rachel sensed her dad’s unspoken words, but much as she didn’t want to hurt him, she was used to living on her own. She’d definitely need her own place.
“Wait, wait,” said Bart to his friend, “I have a better idea.”
Rachel could have kissed the agent. She gave him her full attention, but Bart was staring at Lou. “Think a minute, Lou. Sea View House has been lucky this year with people and events. And it could happen again—the way the house has been remodeled and all.” Her dad’s brows lifted. A tiny smile lurked. And a significant look passed between the two men before Bart turned to Rachel.
“Sea View House would be perfect. And your folks won’t be insulted. In fact, they’ll be pleased.”
Rachel didn’t care what the mystery was all about. Let the two ROMEOs have their secrets. She was familiar with the property Bart had mentioned, and he was right. Sea View House would be absolutely perfect for her. She’d get to live right on the beach.
If she was hired.
CHAPTER FOUR
BACK IN KANSAS A WEEK later, Rachel sat in front of her computer in the early morning trying to focus on her job search. She’d been home for two days, and was finding that memories of her Pilgrim Cove vacation often invaded her thoughts. Sometimes, she smiled. More often, she pondered about the slight shift in relationships she’d detected this time, mostly coming from her dad. He’d openly supported her. Had spoken up for her. It felt damn good—wonderful, in fact. But why now? What had made him change his ways? Normally, he was a laid-back type of man allowing Pearl to take the lead with Rachel as she was growing up. Not this time.
And her mom had calmed down. She’d always been the “pusher”: the one who pushed Rachel into activities. When Dr. Bennett had spoken about the USA Swimming organization, Pearl had been very enthusiastic. In the beginning, Pearl had pushed for good grades, too. But then she’d stopped. Now Rachel wondered why. Maybe someday, she’d find out.
And then there was Alex. He hadn’t changed much toward her, which was too bad, but…she shrugged… she’d deal with him if and when she had to. Fortunately, her niece and nephew didn’t seem to feel the undercurrents between their dad and his sister. Susan managed to calm the waters a lot, and Rachel was grateful to her sister-in-law. The relationship Rachel had with the youngsters was strong and loving. She wanted it to remain that way.
She’d purposely spent a lot of time with Jen. They’d swum together, with Rachel coaching and encouraging the girl in the water. They’d taken long walks on the beach. She’d listened to Jennifer practice for her bat mitzvah ceremony to be held in the spring when she’d turn thirteen. The child’s Hebrew reading was flawless already. Rachel wasn’t surprised since Jen was an excellent student—definitely her father’s daughter.
Rachel refocused on her computer screen. Every school district had its own posting, and she’d decided to start with a twenty-five-mile radius from Round Rock. She couldn’t afford to pass up any opportunity, and she couldn’t count on returning to Pilgrim Cove.
By three in the afternoon, her neck was stiff and her eyes were glazed. She turned her head from side to side, rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms overhead. The phone rang.
“Thank God,” she said, jumping to her feet. “An excuse to move!”
She picked up the receiver.
“So, are you ready to return to Pilgrim Cove?”
Dr. Edward Bennett’s voice. Immediately, goose bumps covered Rachel’s arms. She collapsed back into her chair.
“Do you always start off with a punch to the gut?” asked Rachel. “Wait, wait, don’t answer that. You do. I know you do.”
“Because it usually works, my dear, and it can save a lot of time in the end. But I guess not today. Today requires a full conversation.”
Rachel remembered confiding in this man when she could talk to no other adult. He’d cared about her when he could have ignored her. After all, he was the principal! Instead, he’d always taken the time to listen, ignoring his ringing phone when she searched him out in his office. All those reasons would have been enough for her to respect him. But after he’d recommended the USA Swim Club to her folks, Dr. Bennett could do no wrong in Rachel’s eyes. Swimming had changed her life. He’d believed in her when no one else did. Sure, her mom loved her, but in Rachel’s fifteen-year-old mind, Pearl didn’t count. Moms were supposed to love their kids.
“Uh…Dr. Bennett? At the risk of having you think I’m buying time…want to repeat the question?”
His laughter was his only answer for a moment. “We’re offering you the position, Rachel.” He outlined a competitive salary, reminded her of both the student and teacher roster numbers, the start date—which could be flexible if necessary.
“But think hard, Rachel,” he continued. “You’ll be living under a microscope because the position is new. And you’ll be living in the shadow of your past. Some of the people here on staff will remember you. There will be no quarter given. I want the job done well. Which is why I’m asking, as an old friend, if you’re ready to come back?”
She’d been more than ready when she’d left Pilgrim Cove last week. But the reality of the offer and hearing Dr. Bennett’s voice made her stomach flip-flop. He was right on two counts: the responsibility was enormous, and the whole community would be watching. Everyone had been disappointed in the school’s recent academic performance.
Rachel took a deep breath. “I can handle it, Dr. Bennett. The answer is yes. Yes, thank you. I want the job.”
“Excellent,” replied her new boss.
“And I won’t let you down.”
“Never thought you would.”
Tears burned her eyes as she hung up the phone. No matter what happened next, no matter how hard the job turned out to be, she’d never make him regret hiring her.
She stared at the phone. First, her folks. Then Bart Quinn. Then the important people in her life right here in Round Rock, Kansas.
She glanced around the apartment, then walked to the window and looked at the familiar park across the street. She thought about her friendly neighbors who’d welcomed her so warmly. She thought about her swim team and the girls who’d miss her as much as she’d miss them.
For the second time, her eyes filled. She was lone-some for them already! Sure, the door had been left open for her to come back, but deep inside, she knew this chapter of her life was over. Rachel Goodman was going home.
JACK LEVINE LOVED Sea View House. No question about that. He stood on his deck in the early evening as he’d done every day since moving in almost a week ago, noticing how the sun’s long fingers painted shadows in the sand, listening as the ocean whispered its never-ending lullaby.
Bart Quinn had done him a good turn. Everything about his apartment was exactly the way the agent had described it. The Crow’s Nest, on the second floor, had a very large kitchen with a deck running the width of the house right outside its door. The master bedroom contained an oversize desk, perfect for his computer and materials, as well as a dresser and a huge closet. The small bedroom held all his guy stuff—surfboard, football, fishing gear, boat stuff—and had a wall of bookcases that he’d almost filled. All in all, a neat setup for the coming year.
As soon as he’d returned from visiting his folks and old friends in Maine, he’d started exploring the coastline around the Pilgrim Cove peninsula. He had introduced himself to the harbormaster and staff, and had even taken a few water samples. Of course, when school began, his morning trips would be limited to weekends. His afternoons would be free, however, and he intended to meet up with lobstermen bringing their catches into port. Their observations about their catches would provide valuable clues to water quality, too.
Jack yawned and headed back inside to heat up a frozen dinner, take a shower and sack out. Maybe he’d read a little or organize some notes before closing his eyes. He really should sleep late one of these days, so he’d have the energy to hit some night spots in
this town—if there were any. A long winter loomed ahead. He’d definitely need some company. If Pilgrim Cove had nothing, he could always hook up with his buddies in Boston, just thirty minutes away.
He took the dinner from the freezer and stuck it in the microwave. Everything in his kitchen was in easy reach, and he was amazed at how quickly he felt at home. Even his pickup looked as if it belonged in the driveway.
Fortunately, Bart had been right about the availability of the house. Seemed Daniel Stone, the guy who’d rented before Jack, had left early to start house-hunting in Boston. And Shelley Anderson, the attractive lady downstairs, had taken her two kids and moved out yesterday—a whole week before Labor Day—to help Daniel house hunt. Since the two of them were getting married soon, her decision made sense. But if Jack had been one of Shelley’s kids, he would’ve raised holy hell about leaving Pilgrim Cove even a minute before summer was over.
Funny the way it had worked out for Daniel and Shelley. They’d each come for a quiet summer at the beach. And wound up with more excitement than anyone could have imagined. Bart Quinn had told Jack the whole story when he’d been in the real estate office signing the lease. Jack had chuckled and shaken his head. “Better him than me walking down that long, long aisle.”
“Your turn will come, boy-o.” The agent had looked at him with an expression Jack couldn’t quite read. Somewhere between compassion and humor. “And when it does, my friend, I want to be around to see it.”
“You sound like my mother,” Jack had replied with a grin. “I really hope the two of you live that long.”
He’d gotten up to leave, but the old man called him back. “Don’t forget that you’ll be getting a neighbor downstairs. Not for a week or so yet. A schoolteacher. Last-minute hire.”
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