“Mine, too,” Joanie put in.
“And bluebirds,” said Josh.
Liz rumpled his hair and laughed. “Definitely. What a cutie you are.”
Right then, her pager sounded. She apologized for the interruption, excused herself and returned to her office. Then Joanie’s phone rang. Terra pushed off from the desk, waved goodbye and continued with Josh to the main dining room.
It was elegant, almost too much so for the morning meal, yet an appropriate way to start the first full day at a posh resort. As soon as they were seated, Terra started taking notes about the room—the decor, lighting, seating capacity, atmosphere, degree of formality and so forth.
Eventually, she would do the same for every one of the resort’s dining areas, including the banquet rooms. She planned to take snapshots of each area from various angles for the graphic designer who would need to adapt the menu to the physical design of the dining area.
Working as a menu specialist involved more than word-crafting the menu, although that aspect was highly important, even crucial. It was a vital part of Terra’s business to know that even the best wording couldn’t shine without a perfect format, which included the proper choice of paper, color, type style, binding.
There were decisions to make about whether the menu would be one page or many pages. How many vertical folds there would be, if any. Where each menu item would be placed on the format. How related items would be grouped.
Would the paper be lightweight, heavy, perhaps laminated? How would the prices be shown? Would the descriptions be flowery, lively or straightforward? Would everything be centered, or some items offcenter?
If she hadn’t had Aunt Claire as her mentor, Terra would have still been learning the fine points of her work. Thanks to Claire, though, and a natural affinity for words, she knew she had more going for her than the average menu specialist.
The best thing about it right now was that it kept Terra’s mind off Rafe. But that didn’t last long.
“Mommy, are you working?” Josh asked, watching her pencil skim over her notepad.
“You bet I am. Just like at home and in my own office.”
He glanced around at the other diners. “Is my daddy at work?”
“Maybe.” She quickly changed the subject. “Finished with your cereal? Great. Ready to explore the island a little?”
He gave an enthusiastic nod and she hustled him outside to get his mind off the daddy question. They found the cart at the front door, waiting for them. Shad Teach was there as well, his wily blue eyes seeming to spark with mischief, his golden earring glinting in the sunlight. He showed Terra the basics of operating the cart, then helped her into it with a courtly flourish.
Settling Josh in beside her, he asked, “Off to where, today?”
“Lalie’s house,” Josh replied, looking as thrilled as if the destination were Disneyland.
Terra corrected him, “No, that’s tomorrow, Monday. Today is Sunday.”
Josh’s mouth turned down and Shad chuckled. “Everybody loves Lalie Hanes,” he said. “A gift to the human community she is. Fine, fine woman.”
Terra recalled Columbia’s comment that Shad knew everyone and everything. He certainly knew how upstanding Lalie was. Did he know all about her? Terra wondered. Was it true that no one else knew of Rafe’s presence? Perhaps Shad? Maybe Liz? Possibly Columbia even, though Rafe had denied it?
She saw Shad’s eyes fixing on Josh’s features. Again, she tensed inside.
“That’s quite a pair of baby-blues you look at the world with, lad.”
Apparently in reaction to the word baby, Josh gave an indignant reply. “I’m four and a half.” He held up the correct number of fingers, including the half, to illustrate.
“Oh, yes, indeed,” Shad affirmed hastily, looking quite sheepish about offending Josh’s pride.
Eager to leave, Terra offered a quick thanks for his help and drove away. Any more tense moments and she’d be a nervous wreck.
AFTER LEISURELY EXPLORING the village and the island all day, Terra returned to the hotel late in the afternoon. While out and about she had relaxed somewhat, but the prospect of an evening with Miz Elizabeth and Judge Cameron tied her nerves in knots as the time approached.
“You must be a very good boy tonight,” Terra reminded Josh that evening when they got ready for dinner. “No slurping your soup. No milk mustaches. No forgetting the four magic words.”
Josh grimaced and recited them. “Please, thanks, ma’am, sir.”
“Excellent.”
Dressed in a crisp, white-and-navy sailor suit, he looked quite the little gentleman. Terra wasn’t keen on the naval style of the suit, but it was a gift to Josh from her parents, so she’d dutifully packed it along on the trip. Josh insisted on wearing it tonight.
Besides, Miz Elizabeth and Judge Bradshaw would probably be as charmed by Josh’s outfit as her parents were. Maybe it would distract them from the family traits Josh inherited. Or maybe their reaction to his features would be the same as Liz’s had been—a moment of intent scrutiny followed by a marveling shake of the head.
Terra powder-blushed her cheeks and ran a comb through her hair. In the mirror, she checked out the image she projected in her taupe silk dress. None of her discomposure showed; there was no outward evidence that she’d stumbled upon Rafe Jermain yesterday. Looking at her, no one would ever suspect that her life had turned wrong side up since she’d arrived in Bride’s Bay.
She searched for and found no visible sign of her gnawing fear that Rafe’s grandmother would set eyes on Josh and know at once that he was Rafe’s offspring.
“You look pretty, ma’am,” Josh offered impishly.
Terra curtsied and put on a confident smile for him. “Thank you, sir. Ready to go?”
Hand in hand they left their room and went to the far end of the west wing. Judge Bradshaw answered the door. Terra guessed that he was in his late seventies or early eighties. A portly, handsome gentleman, he had a wild shock of gray hair that topped a weathered, grandfatherly face. His voice, inflected by a slow Southern drawl, was quiet and kindly.
“Good evening, come in.” He shook hands with them both. “We’re very pleased that you could join us tonight.”
After seating them in a lovely parlor furnished with antiques from the Old South’s glory days, he advised, “Elizabeth is taking a tedious phone call from the security chief.” He clucked his tongue. “Security weighs heavily on everyone’s minds these days, I’m afraid. She’ll be with us shortly.”
He ambled around in a charming, absentminded fashion, getting a glass of wine for Terra and apple juice for Josh. Glancing around the room, Terra was startled to see a framed photo of Rafe amid several other pictures grouped on top of a console table. She hastily covered her reaction so the judge wouldn’t notice.
But he caught it, even though he was busy handing Josh the juice at that moment.
“Blood runs as thick as winter molasses in my wife’s family,” he remarked pointedly, sitting down across from her with his own drink. “Once a Jermain, always a Jermain.”
“Of course,” Terra politely agreed, as if notorious traitors were common features in everyone’s pictorial history.
“A sad chapter in the family history, though,” he went on. “As far as we’re concerned, Rafe is innocent. Your own opinion may differ, which is understandable, considering how much bad news there was about him.”
Terra acknowledged, “I followed the story at the time. I mean, the newspaper headlines and TV reports were hard to avoid.” She added, “Also, my parents are in the military, so it was a topic of discussion.”
His face creased in a benign smile. “Army officers, aren’t they?”
“Yes, chaplains, but how do you know that?”
“I’m not sure.” He looked puzzled at himself. “Picked it up somewhere, I suppose, from Columbia or some-one…” He trailed off and then waved a hand absently. “Elizabeth will remember for me.”
His b
lue-gray eyes lit as a willowy, silver-haired woman of his own age entered the room. She wore a simple but elegant knit dress of a vivid blue that matched her eyes. Her gracious smile, erect posture and quick, determined stride marked her unmistakably as the grande dame of the Jermain family.
Terra stood, heart in her throat, and tugged Josh to his feet. She shook the firm, slender hand Elizabeth Jermain offered to her.
“Forgive me,” Rafe’s grandmother implored, “for letting hotel business deprive me of greeting you properly.”
Terra made nothing of it. “As a business owner myself, I completely understand.”
“Me, too,” Josh piped up stoutly. “Ma’am.”
The older woman’s gaze settled on him with the same sudden absorption her granddaughter had shown earlier. “A cutie,” she observed, “just as Liz described you.”
She went silent for a long moment, studying him, then shook her shoulders lightly as if dismissing a thought and sat down next to Cameron.
“What long-winded tale was my husband enthralling you with in my absence?” She patted the judge’s hand lovingly.
“A mystery, my dear,” he said. “Can you remember where I picked up the idea that Ms. Camden’s family has a military background?”
“I’m afraid I can, and I regret to say it has more to do with strict security policy than I’d like.” She gave Terra an apologetic look. “No one comes here to work without a thorough background check being done on them by our Thomas Graves. Since I own the resort, he keeps us informed, and yours is the most recent brief we’ve had.”
“I’m not all that surprised, then,” Terra said, feeling doubly on edge, although it was no fault of theirs. “I understand that the resort often hosts sensitive political meetings and conferences.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, there’s a conference of diplomats coming up soon, in fact. Not a state secret by any means but still a security-intensive event. No doubt you’ve read rumors that the President and First Lady might vacation here next month.”
Terra confirmed that she’d heard about it.
“A presidential visit would be an honor for us,” Elizabeth said, “but no official word has gone out yet from the White House. He may be here, and also may not, as press rumors go.”
The judge sighed, obviously discomfited by his social blunder. “I am chagrined that I mentioned anything at all from your background file. Senility must be creeping up on my manners.”
Elizabeth patted his hand again and deftly turned the subject to a conversational advantage. “Terra, your work sounded so interesting that we wanted to know more about it from you, personally. And we were also delighted to learn you would bring Josh with you. So few children are guests here and they’re always a treat.”
Terra felt certain that the slurpy, gargly sounds Josh was making with his juice weren’t what Elizabeth was referring to, but the older couple didn’t act bothered by it. Of course, maybe that had more to do with Southern hospitality than indulgent indifference.
She nudged him with her elbow. “Josh. Manners, please.”
Instead of obeying, he gulped down a mouthful with a vibrating gunnggg sound.
Terra warned, “No dessert if this keeps up.”
He kept at it, as if misbehaving and mortifying his mother had suddenly become his life’s goal. Then, suddenly, he set down his glass, scooted off the couch and ran to the picture of Rafe.
Pointing at it, he announced, “That’s me when I get big.”
Terra was floored, nearly speechless. She sputtered a command for him to come back and sit down. But Miz Elizabeth stood and went to him.
“There is a certain similarity,” she murmured, moving Josh side by side with the portrait. “Don’t you think so, Cameron?”
The judge cocked his head, nodding somewhat uncertainly. “Perhaps.” He glanced at Terra. “What do you think?”
“Oddly enough,” she managed to reply. “Yes. I sort of see what Josh means.” She gave her son a motherly frown. “Take your seat again, please.”
“What I see most clearly,” the judge observed with an indulgent smile, “is that Josh needs more than grownup conversation to interest him.”
He stood and took charge of the boy. “Come with me to my study and let’s find ourselves a deck of cards. Excuse us, ladies.”
Terra murmured an apology to Elizabeth after they left. “He’s been so well-behaved until now.”
“Think nothing of it, Terra.” Elizabeth touched the portrait of Rafe. “My grandson here used to be the same way when he was that age. Strange they look rather alike.”
Terra groped for words and came up with a monumental lie. “Especially strange since there’s no relation on either side.”
“Of course not.” Elizabeth returned and sat down looking apologetic. “If I’ve offended you by comparing Joshua favorably to Raie, I’m sorry, Terra. Few people share my belief that my grandson was not what everyone thinks he was, rest his soul.”
Terra wished she could open her heart to Elizabeth and reveal that Rafe wasn’t dead. The poor lady had tears in her eyes—loving, mournful tears. What joy it would give her to know that her grandson had survived.
But all Terra could do was reassure her, “Oh, I’m not offended. I’m pretty much neutral on the issue, actually.”
“Well, then, let’s leave it behind.” Elizabeth blinked her tears away. “Tell me how you go about being a menu specialist.”
Relieved to be off the subject of Rafe, Terra surmised that Columbia had probably briefed Elizabeth to some extent already. And the security check must have filled in the rest. She had to accept that it probably revealed Josh’s birth record: father unknown.
What would Elizabeth say if she knew Rafe was Josh’s father? That Rafe was on Jermain’s Island, alive?
“It’s creative work for the most part,” Terra replied to Elizabeth’s request. “Often unusual, and usually a challenge.”
To illustrate, she described the rutabaga problem she and Macy had brainstormed for the Americana project.
Elizabeth laughed. “I must remember that the next time I’m served beets or parsnips. They’ll go down far more easily as Heritage Vegetables.”
They went on chatting about the hotel and restaurant business. It became clear that Elizabeth had no hobbies; her sole concern was the business of owning the resort.
“Liz,” she said, “is the only one of my grandchildren interested in Bride’s Bay Resort. Thank goodness for her, since it would break my heart to sell this place. So much family history here, you know, the roots run deep. Liz carries on and runs most everything in the family tradition, bless her.”
Cameron came back into the room with Josh. They seated themselves at a bridge table in the corner and proceeded to enjoy an exuberant game of slapjack.
Elizabeth cheered them on periodically while maintaining a cordial conversation with Terra about the importance of family values and traditions in a child’s life.
At just the right time, when the game score stood in Josh’s favor, a maid opened the double doors to the dining room and announced that dinner was ready.
They had boneless quail, Madeira gravy, herbed grits and squash blossom salad. Dessert was a butter torte, multilayered with grape preserves, which gave Terra a brainstorm the moment it was served.
She asked Elizabeth, “How does Scuppernong Jam Cake strike you as a menu name for this?”
“Brilliant! No wonder you’ve earned such high marks in your specialty.”
Terra grinned, not overly proud of herself, but very pleased to hear that she had earned an A + from Miz Elizabeth Jermain. That was the main reason she’d been invited, of course, to pass muster with the grande dame of Bride’s Bay Resort.
Scuppernong. Piece of cake. With that, she knew Camden Consulting had officially arrived in South Carolina. Columbia would love the cake name, too. So Southern, so traditional, just right.
Things didn’t continue so smoothly, however. Josh’s restless spirit reared
its head again and almost spilled his milk.
Terra saw that lingering over coffee would be courting trouble. “Would you mind very much if Josh and I call it a night?”
“Not at all,” said Elizabeth with warm understanding. “He did wonderfully well tonight. When I was Josh’s age, I couldn’t sit still more than two minutes.”
“Still can’t,” the judge teased her.
Terra left smiling, yet with deeply felt regrets that Josh couldn’t have a family relationship to them, and neither could she.
Walking down the hall, she swung his hand. “They’re nice people, aren’t they?”
“Yep. Like Grando and Granda.”
Terra felt so proud of him, and yet so terribly torn about his identity. For five years Josh’s father had been her deep, dark secret. Now he was that much more of one. And now she had one more secret: she was afraid that she was as infatuated with him as she’d been the first time.
6
AFTER BREAKFAST Monday morning, Terra took Josh to Lalie’s house for his first stay there. He bounded out of the golf cart and ran ahead of her to knock on the door.
Lalie came around the corner of the house. “There you are,” she said. “Right on time. Come in back with me and I’ll show you what you missed seeing on Saturday.”
They followed her to the garden plots and greenhouses where she grew specialty produce for Columbia’s kitchen and the resort.
“I’ve got baby romaine and Swift’s lettuce leafing out so nicely right now, and lots of herbs, bouquet flowers, orchids…”
She led them on an interesting, absorbing tour of the greenhouses and vegetable patches. The orchids, especially, were an earthly delight. Lalie explained that not all of the exotic plants were hers; she was orchidsitting many of them for estate owners who lived only part-time on the island.
At the end of the tour, she put Josh to work pulling weeds, then drew Terra aside for a private word.
“Rafe has to stay here with me today,” she said.
Terra gulped and glanced at the house. “Here? Why?”
“Because every Monday morning the house cleaners go in next door. The gardeners mow the lawn today, too. Terra, I’m not sure Rafe can stay hidden from Josh all day. I can’t keep an eye on everything every minute, you know?”
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