Rachel glanced at her dad. Lou smiled and nodded, but Jack didn’t say a word. Just stared at his soon-to-be father-in-law.
“I loved the book,” Rachel replied. “But Dad—he knows the literature. And if he says it’s good…then it is.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say,” said Sam Parker between chuckles. “Talk to my daughter-in-law. Laura has an agent who knows the publishing business inside and out. She, herself, narrates children’s books for one of the biggest houses in New York. But it was the agent who got her the audition.”
Jack hadn’t thought much about the future of his book. Writing it had been the important part. But Sam was right. “A book doesn’t do much just sitting in a drawer, does it?” he said. “Thanks, Sam. Tell Laura I’ll be calling.”
Sam waved and returned to his buddies just as David and Jennifer came over.
“Mom says I should call you Uncle Jack now,” said Jennifer.
David looked uncomfortable, however, as though he were sitting on a tack. “Yeah. She said it’s either that or Dr. Levine.”
“How about sticking with Jack, like you did last summer? Except in school.”
“Cool.” The kid gave him a high five. “When are you going to tell us the whole story? About what happened yesterday.”
“Yeah…” said Jennifer. “Tell us about your adventure in the storm.”
Rachel preempted his reply. “Kids, I don’t think Jack wants to—”
“We might as well tell it once and be done with it,” said Jack, giving Rachel a little squeeze. “I say ‘we’ because some of it is your story, too.”
The older set waved them to the couch. “You’re going to have to write the whole tale in the Sea View House Journal, anyway,” said Bart. “Just like Laura and Shelley wrote their stories. Think of this as a first draft.”
Silence filled the house as everyone settled into their seats. The room filled with a sense of expectation, everyone waiting for a story.
“This is the story of a man, a woman, a boat and a storm. A true tale of the sea.” He aimed the narration at David and Jennifer. He started from the time he left the Pilgrim Cove marina under cloudy skies, leaving out the argument or the reason he’d left the manuscript with Rachel. He described the storm, the darkness, the icy rain. The huge waves. The lightning. And then the loss of the motor and all the power.
“But your aunt knew what to do,” he finally said. “She turned on the big light at Sea View House. A light so big, I saw it through the rain and the darkness. It gave me hope.”
“Wasn’t it lucky that you were near us?” whispered Jennifer, leaning against Jack’s legs from her seat on the floor.
“Lucky?” repeated Jack. “It was a darn miracle!”
“No,” said Rachel. “It was a wonderful miracle.” She squeezed his arm so hard, he’d have a bruise.
“And very appropriate,” said Pearl.
Now the small audience turned to Pearl. “Hanukkah begins this evening,” she said. “The miracle of light. Isn’t it nice to know that miracles do still happen?”
THREE O’CLOCK COULDN’T come fast enough for Rachel on this last day before the winter holidays. So much to do at home, but so much to do before she left school for the day.
Footsteps sounded outside her door. Dr. Bennett walked in and extended his hand. “A promising semester, Rachel. It may have had some rocky moments, but the home stretch is looking great.”
Rachel stood up, more than pleased with Dr. Bennett’s compliment. More than pleased with the final result of the athletic department changes. Bob Franklin had requested an unpaid leave of absence rather than be forced to attend a certified coach-education program. He’d been indignant at the suggestion. Rachel suspected he wouldn’t be back.
Tom Sullivan had been promoted to athletic director, a position he was well qualified to handle. The entire faculty had cheered when the change was announced at a recent staff meeting.
“I couldn’t be happier myself, Dr. Bennett,” said Rachel.
“I think the whole town knows that.” The principal winked and waved. “Have a great vacation.”
She nodded. “I certainly intend to.” It would be a whirlwind week. Jack’s parents were driving down the next day and would stay at Sea View House with them. A dinner at the Lobster Pot was scheduled for tomorrow night with the entire family and whoever else showed up. She was pretty sure every ROMEO would just happen to be eating there, probably at surrounding tables! Ah, well. That was life in Pilgrim Cove.
“Hi, sweetie! Ready to go?”
And there was her life. Standing in the doorway, eyes shining with love for her. She closed her desk drawer, shut down her computer and got her purse. “No homework this week,” she said. “No tote bag.”
The look in his eyes turned warmer. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I love you, Rach.”
She leaned against him for a moment. “I know.”
“I’ve got some good news to share,” he whispered in her ear. “I found out about a half hour ago.”
She pulled away so she could see his face. Suppressed excitement. “Well, are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?”
Suddenly, all humor disappeared. A serious Jack stood in front of her. “Laura’s agent called,” he began. “Or should I say, my agent called.”
“Wow, fast work,” said Rachel. “You met him in Boston and signed a contract only about…what? Less than two weeks ago?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m so surprised.” He grasped her hands and squeezed. “Rach—three publishers are bidding on the manuscript for their young-adult lines. Three publishers want Kevin’s story.”
Suddenly, Jack blinked hard, and Rachel felt tears well in her own eyes. Her wonderful man didn’t even realize what he’d said. To Jack, this story would always be Kevin’s. No matter that he had lived it, too. No matter that he had written it.
“And sweetheart,” said Jack. “I hope you won’t object, but if people actually buy the book, I’d like to give half the royalties to Kevin’s mom.”
“No one has a more loving heart than you,” she whispered.
“I love you, Rachel Goodman, and now I’m going to show you how much.”
She expected kisses. Instead, he led her outside to his truck. He wouldn’t answer any questions.
Fifteen minutes later, she thought she understood when he pulled into the marina’s parking lot. “The Wanderer must be back! That’s great.” And she meant it. Jack had spent untold hours on the phone and in person supervising its repair. “But I hope you’re not counting on taking her out now, darling. It’s getting dark.”
“Shh. Don’t say anything yet.” He led her onto the dock and toward his slip. She would have walked right past the boat, however, if Jack hadn’t stopped walking himself.
“There she is,” he said. “What do you think?”
Rachel looked. Everything seemed exactly the same except… “Oh, my goodness. Jack! I don’t believe this.” The man was incredible. “Sweet Rachel? You renamed it for me?” If her voice was pitched any higher, she’d squeak.
Jack grinned, seemingly very pleased with himself and with her reaction. “I sure did. I think it’s a perfect name for a beautiful lady.”
“PILGRIM COVE AND THE Lobster Pot welcome you to town.” Bart Quinn, himself, greeted them at the door of the restaurant the following evening, taking extra time with Jack’s parents, Shirley and Arthur Levine. His eyes twinkled, his grin appeared often, and he was obviously having a good time. Rachel poked Jack. “He’s letting the leprechaun out.”
“And loving every minute,” Jack replied.
“But watch his eyes, his expression. Nothing gets past that man.”
“We’ve set up a special table for you tonight,” said Bart, leading the way inside the restaurant. “Right in the middle of the main dining room.”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Rachel. “A zillion people will be coming by.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” asked Pearl. �
�I love sharing happy news.”
“Your mother’s right, dear,” said Shirley. “We’re thrilled about you and Jack, and we want everyone to know it. Even if we don’t know a soul in Pilgrim Cove.”
“Within an hour, you’ll know dozens, Mom. Trust me.” Jack gently squeezed Rachel around her waist. “It’s that kind of town.”
Bart joined in again. “Your boy’s a quick learner, Shirley. He fit right in from the start. Said the town felt familiar.”
“Familiar? Then it must be the New England coast. He’s happy wherever there’s water.”
Jack glanced at Rachel. “Am I standing right here, or what?”
She giggled and pointed to the table. “We’ve arrived. And look around. Notice the Reserved signs on those three tables.”
Just then she glanced down the corridor and saw the Parker crew walking toward them. Sam led the pack. Matt and Laura followed with their sons, Casey and Brian. And Katie Sullivan, too.
“Hi, Papa Bart,” said the child, running up to her great-grandpa and hugging him. “I’m sleeping at Uncle Matt’s tonight. Mommy’s on a date with Sara’s daddy again.”
“I know that, little one. Don’t we all live together?”
Introductions were made all around until the Parker clan sat down at their table. Within the next five minutes, it seemed to Rachel that every person her parents knew found their way into the Lobster Pot. ROMEOs and wives. Mah-jongg players. Card players. Finally, everyone was seated. Rachel purposely sat next to Jack’s mom.
“It’s not usually quite like this,” she said.
“But close enough,” said Jack, from his seat on her other side. “You get used to it,” he added with a grin.
Just then, Maggie Sullivan and Thea Cavelli whirled toward them, arms outstretched, smiles on their faces. “Welcome, welcome. Congratulations to you all.” Maggie looked over at Bart. “I see Dad has everything under control.”
“Of course I do,” said Bart. “In fact, I was just going to give the Levines a tour of the walls.”
“The walls?” said Arthur.
“Oh, yes,” replied Thea. “We’ve always got a special art exhibition in the restaurant. Now, some pieces may be better than others, but…we try to have fun.”
“And tonight,” added Maggie, “we have a new work to add to the collection. In addition, champagne is on the house.” She paused. “Who knows? Weddings are in the air. You’re all going into Boston next week for Shelley and Daniel’s. And maybe, just maybe…there will be another one, closer to home.”
Rachel glanced at Bart, but Bart was staring at his daughter, his expression a mixture of pain and resignation. She only hoped that Sam Parker hadn’t heard Maggie’s remark from where he sat. Maggie Sullivan was banking on her daughter, Lila, finding happiness with the new veterinarian, Adam Fielding. She was banking on Lila forgetting about Jason Parker once and for all.
Who knew what the future held? Rachel pressed her hand to Jack’s and felt his answering squeeze. Life was good, and she’d enjoy it.
“Look over there, Shirley.” She pointed to a poster of Rodin’s The Thinker, except there was a huge fish in his lap. Beneath the pictorial was a caption that read, “Fishful thinking.”
In the next one over, two kids in a rowboat looked at the viewer and said, “Wouldn’t you rudder be fishing?”
“Cute and corny and adorable,” said Jack’s mom.
“Check out the one about the Chief and Dee.” Jack pointed to a caricature of Rick O’Brien wearing his cop’s hat and riding on a fish as though he were a cowboy, while Dee sat demurely on the dock. “He wanted to snapper up…because she lived inside his sole.”
“Now, that’s a good one,” said Shirley with enthusiasm.
Bart spoke up from behind their chairs. “Maggie draws them and Thea comes up with the words. Sometimes with a little help from whoever happens to be around. They’ve got a new one ready for tonight.”
Maggie and Thea approached, each holding one side of a large poster board. They tipped it right side up.
The caricature of Jack wore a sailor’s cap and stood on the deck of a white boat with hands on his hips. He had an overlarge chest and overdeveloped muscles. Rachel’s facsimile had a crop of dark hair, extra-long legs and a narrow waist. She was on the beach, a fishing rod in her hand, its line thrown into the water. The caption read:
Jack floundered around the seven seas,
’Til Rachel said, “He’s my Maine squeeze.”
General applause broke out at the table. “Perfect,” said Jack’s mother. His father smiled and nodded. “Good job, ladies.”
“Hang on a minute,” said Rachel, motioning the sisters to come closer. “The boat. It’s called Sweet Rachel! Now, how did they learn that so fast?”
A chorus of voices replied, “There are no secrets in Pilgrim Cove.”
Everyone laughed, and Rachel looked around the table at her family. Was it only last summer that she’d hesitated about coming home? Alex winked at her from across the table while Jennifer leaned against him as she chatted with David. Pearl and Lou’s hands were intertwined in full view of everyone. And Jack’s parents seemed relaxed and happy mingling with all of them.
Rachel leaned against the love of her life, and sighed a big contented sigh.
“I know what you mean,” Jack whispered. “It doesn’t get much better than this.”
“Amen.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-1145-2
RELUCTANT HOUSEMATES
Copyright © 2005 by Linda Barrett.
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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