Halfway down Route 1-A, when the road swung up onto a rocky stretch of cliffs overlooking the sea in Rye, the memory of a forgotten night snuck up on her. The summer she was sixteen, she and Judy had driven up to Jenness State Beach, just for somewhere different to lie on the sand and wallow in Dave Matthews’s voice.
Judy was already seventeen that summer, and had the keys to an ’82 Volvo that maxed out at 45 miles an hour. It wasn’t sexy, but it was a set of wheels. They’d loaded the trunk with Coke and Doritos, beach towels and baby oil. They’d camped out with a CD player boom box, a couple of old bedsheets, and no intention of getting in the water.
The boys who moved their Frisbee game over to get a better look were definitely older, and definitely prep-school boys.
When the disc landed near her feet, she looked up over her Cosmopolitan and did her best to seem worldly.
Behind his Oakleys, the emissary had playful chocolate eyes. “What are you two doing tonight?”
Someone’s parents were away; someone else’s brother was bringing kegs. The address was right on Ocean Boulevard, one of the mansions on the cliff.
They’d gone, walking to the address in their cutoffs and bikini tops, leaving Judy’s station wagon in the state beach parking lot. They’d never found the boys from the beach, but they had found the beer and the shots of cheap vodka. Judy’s older sister had come when they called her from a phone in the house. Hallie had sworn not to tell, but Sofia hadn’t counted on her father.
She’d practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment and fallen through the door.
“Where the hell have you been?” Her father’s eyes were closed, his head lolling on the back on the couch, but his voice was clear and his grip on the bottle was firm.
“A friend’s house.” She couldn’t disguise the slur of alcohol and exhaustion.
“Bullshit, Sofia.” He sucked in a ragged breath and she’d thought for one brilliant moment he was going to care that something might have happened to her. The desire for a good, old-fashioned grounding bloomed in her heart. He rolled his head and opened his eyes, narrowing his bleary gaze on her. “You have the early shift at the register tomorrow.”
She’d pulled herself up and done her best to walk a straight line past her father’s slumped form.
The memory carried her as far as the point where Ashworth Avenue split off from Ocean Boulevard, which was one-way going north along the boardwalk, but she drove the remaining blocks on autopilot. Swinging the car into the tiny parking lot she shared with her tenants, Sofia ducked into the snack bar to avoid passing the corner window of the Atlantis Market. It was time to get the Landing sold and behind her for good.
~~~
Silas wasn’t waiting for her, but it was hard to miss the European purr of Sofia’s car pulling into the narrow lot behind their buildings. When Sofia herself didn’t appear on her steps, he tuned back in to his sister’s monologue.
“I mean, I understand maybe you burned out at Stern & Lowe.” This was a variation on the same speech she’d been giving him since he’d escaped New York after New Year’s. “But Silas, you don’t need to prove a point to anyone. Dad says Larry Holbein would take you on as a junior partner, or maybe you could work as a public defender if you want to save the world?” She straightened one of the slats on the cheap plastic Venetian blinds. “I’m sure you could sell this … place, and come home. Theo says the store is doing well, I’m sure there’s a market for it.”
“Mal.” Silas couldn’t stop the warning from creeping into his tone.
“Or you could work on Senator Kingston’s campaign.” Her wheels were turning. “I could pull a few strings there.”
“Mallory.” He scooped Houdini up from his seat on the second hand coffee table. “Stop.”
“Stop what? Trying to bring my baby brother to his senses?” She straightened the sofa cushion.
“I like it here. I hated New York. End of discussion.”
She sat on the edge of the ratty sofa, crossing her legs and tapping her toe on the table. “What about when the money runs out?”
“It won’t.” He sat on the table opposite her, setting the gray cat down, and thanking the gods of Danish Modern furniture for their secondhand benevolence.
“How do you know?” Mallory leaned forward, searching for a chink in his armor.
“I’m going to be thirty this fall. I’m not your baby brother anymore.” The bell jingled in the shop below. “Do you hear that? That was income, and that bell jingles all day long. The guy who sold me the place had everything in pristine shape, he was just old and tired. He cashed my check and moved to Myrtle Beach. All I have to do for now is keep doing what works.”
“But what about after the summer?” She cast a woeful eye on the cheap replacement windows. “You aren’t thinking about staying here all winter?”
“Not everyone wants a four bedroom Tudor on a Short Hills cul-de-sac, sis.”
Mallory’s expression shuttered. “What do you want?”
Houdini chose that moment to hop into Mallory’s lap and start purring luxuriously. Silas thanked the little hairball for diffusing the situation. “I want to get a microchip for my escape artist cat. I want to breathe the air here for a while. I want to enjoy myself.”
His sister ran a manicured hand down the kitten’s spine. Houdini flexed his claws.
“I spent New Year’s Eve prepping for a case.” Silas got up and paced the small room. “I left the office at 1 a.m. I rode home in my Brooks Brothers suit and wool coat, on a train full of people celebrating. Kissing, drinking, fighting, laughing. Living, Mal. And I was working.” He stopped and willed her to understand. “I bought the Jeep from a listing in the Want-Ads. I didn’t even look at it first.”
He waited for Mallory to interrupt. When she didn’t, he went on.
“When I called you guys from Mystic, said I was taking some vacation time? I’d already found someone to sublet my apartment. A guy just like me. I hadn’t traveled in five years. My fat salary? Sitting in well-researched investment accounts, where it very likely would have stayed until I met a nice girl and we got married and moved to Westchester.”
Now Mallory’s cheeks colored. “There’s nothing wrong with that life.”
He kept going, afraid she might derail him, even though she was finally listening. “The first time I skipped my every-six-weeks haircut? I took myself out for a beer down the road. I was wearing jeans and a sweater, my hair was a shade too long, and I was happy. Some guys invited me to play darts with them. They didn’t even ask me my name. It was one of the best nights of my adult life.”
“Silas.” Mallory’s tone softened.
“I stopped here because something about the icy beach called to me. I found this place by accident. But it feels right.” He thought of Sofia. He could picture her all wrapped around him on the beach he loved. “And I think I met someone.”
The smug married woman on his sofa snapped to attention. “Someone here?”
“Not exactly. She’s from D.C.” He fought the urge to look out his window toward the Landing. “But she’s in town for a while.”
“I can see you in Washington,” Mallory said. Silas smiled. His sister was nothing if not determined.
“We’ll see.” He kept his voice light.
Mallory stood and wrapped him in a bear hug. She was twelve years older, and for his whole life she’d wanted to be a wife, a mother. She’d been married and rocking Theo to sleep in the starter home she and her husband had bought when Silas was just starting to sprout hair under his arms. Bossing him around was as natural to her as breathing. Silas wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it.
“I’m still leaving Theo here for the summer to keep an eye on you,” she muttered into his shoulder.
“I love you.” He squeezed her hard. “You’re a nag, but I love you.”
She smacked his chest. “My boy says he hasn’t had a decent meal in weeks. I’m taking you all out for dinner when the shop closes
. Where?”
“We close at eleven tonight.” Mallory’s face fell, and he did some quick thinking. “Let me see if I can’t find someone to cover the register for a couple of hours so I can join you.”
“I bet we can get good lobster around here.” Mallory tilted a lampshade true.
Silas chuckled. “The best. Let me walk you to your car.”
He escorted his sister out through the store so she could embarrass Theo. After she kissed her son extravagantly, Silas hugged her, and walked with her across the street to the parking lot for the beach. He couldn’t help sneaking a glance over his shoulder at Sofia’s door. Like the frozen sand in January, something about her called to him, promising heat and pleasure if he stuck around long enough. Something about her felt right.
~~~
Sofia was just about to head down and check on the snack bar and the register when she caught sight of Silas leaving the Market. He had his arm slung around a tall, athletic blonde. She wore her hair in an artfully messy ponytail, but Sofia knew a $200 cut-and-highlight when she saw one. The woman leaned into Silas’s side, her face hidden for the moment. She had a deep, rich laugh; it drifted back on the sea breeze. Silas kissed the woman’s forehead tenderly, and an ache lodged in Sofia’s throat.
She pressed a hand to the glass as Silas walked his blonde companion around to the driver’s side of a high-end SUV. The other woman ruffled Silas’s hair. He closed the car door and patted the hood affectionately as she backed out. Sofia reminded herself of her earlier promise. Her neighbor was undeniably under her skin, but that was no reason to delay her plans to unload the property and return to her hard-won life-in-progress. She didn’t belong in Hampton now anymore than she had when she left.
She arrived in the snack bar to Silas’s easy banter. He was trading a five for a large twist cone. Charlotte was working the ice cream window, and Gavin, whose day off it was, was loitering around. From just outside the staff entrance, Sofia held her silence watching Gavin preen, trying to distract Charlotte, who clearly liked being the focus of Silas’s attention.
“Gavin, you interested in a few hours work?” Silas asked.
The boy squared his shoulders. “Sure. What kind?”
Silas caught a drip of his soft-serve. “I need someone to cover the till at the Atlantis while I let a beautiful woman take me to dinner.” He winked broadly. “Since Charlotte here is working and can’t be my date.”
Charlotte flushed pink. She was newly seventeen, just barely old enough to work the evening shift. Her budding romance with Gavin, also seventeen, was the stuff of teen magazine dreams. Gavin was from nearby Salisbury, Massachusetts, which despite being two towns away, might as well be another planet when school started in the fall. Sofia felt strangely protective of them. Her own teenage years had been balanced so precariously between those youthful infatuations and the immense heartbreak that was her family.
Gavin was nodding at Silas. “I can do that. When do you need me?”
Sofia loitered in the hallway, watching Charlotte watch the men make their arrangements. Silas’s cheerful banter with the teens charmed her, even while she hated the gorgeous blonde in the Lexus who was his actual date. He tipped his sunglasses at Charlotte before taking his leave. Gavin was fast on his heels, but he turned quickly.
“Charlotte? I’ll stop by to get you when I’m done.”
The young woman beamed. “I’ll be here.”
When the men were gone, Sofia went over the day’s sales with Charlotte. The snack bar did a brisk business in cones and sundaes, even with non-mini-golf customers.
Charlotte was a chatty girl, and Sofia had learned to filter out much of the gossipy prattle, but Silas’s name caught her attention as she was filing through the receipts.
“I think it’s really sweet that he likes to hang out with his sister.”
Sofia frowned. “What?”
“Oh, Silas, Mr. Wilde, was in here just before you got here. He hired Gavin to watch the store for a while so he and Theo—isn’t Theo cute? So they could go out to dinner with his sister Mallory. Theo’s from New Jersey. I think Gavin might be a little jealous of him, since he’s in college, and he’s all ripped from playing soccer.”
Sofia laughed, interrupting Charlotte’s monologue. “How do you know all this stuff?”
“I pay attention.”
Sofia grinned. “You certainly do. Keep that up, it’s a good life skill.”
Silas’s sister Mallory from New Jersey. She flushed slightly at her own jealousy.
Satisfied that Charlotte was handling the ice cream window fine on her own, she went to relieve Amy at the golf-course register. The dinner hours were sometimes slow, so she settled into her seat, picking up the novel Amy had been reading in her down time. It was about twenty years old, with a tall, dark, chiseled hero on the cover, and the title in gilded lettering. At the end of two hours, she was a good way through it.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a reader of bodice-rippers.” Silas was leaning on the chain link gate that separated the course from the sidewalk on that side. She was unreasonably glad to see him.
“I thought you had a date.” She hoped her reply sounded flip.
His eyes twinkled. “I did. Steamers and lobster down at the pound with my sister and my nephew.” He waved through to Charlotte, who’d seen him from her position at the snack bar window.
Sofia set the book down, bending its broken spine. “Do you flirt with everyone on the strip?”
Silas laughed, crossing to the cashier’s window and leaning in. “Just the pretty girls.”
“I’m sure.” She sat up a little straighter. “Are you going to make a habit of hanging out at my gate?”
“Maybe. I have another date tomorrow night,” he said with a sly grin.
“Oh?” She didn’t want to hear about it.
“I’m taking her to Blink’s for fried dough, and then I’m going to kick her ass at Skeeball down at the Funarama,” he said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But just so she doesn’t get mad at me, I’m going to win her a giant stuffed panda at the ring toss.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” she countered.
“Oh, I am.” He straightened, but reached out to push a stray lock of hair, gone curly in the humidity, from her cheek. “I’ll pick you up at ten-fifteen, after the course closes.”
He was gone before she even had a chance to reply.
FOUR
Silas was punctual. He knocked on her door at quarter after ten. The night was balmy, the heat soft like velvet. Sofia spent several minutes after her rinse-off in the shower stall debating whether to wear the fuchsia dress, but the threat of greasy boardwalk treats won the night.
He greeted her with a stem of gladiolus. “Hi.”
She took the flowers, lips bending up even as she fought appearing delighted. “Thank you. I’m just about ready.”
The stem was too big for any of her mother’s vases, but there was an iced tea pitcher on top of the fridge that would hold it.
Silas waited for her in the doorway, backlit by the glow of the boardwalk below. Sofia gave the flowers some water and turned to him. “Shall we?”
Ocean Boulevard was never quiet in the summer. They stepped out onto the street and were swept into the current. A pod of teenagers in band tee shirts drifted ahead of them, mugging for photos that would end up online in a heartbeat. A family passed them, the sunburnt father carrying a sleeping child while the mother pushed a baby in a stroller that looked like a spaceship. Silas reached for her hand at the fourth cross-street.
“I thought there was Blink’s Fry Doe on the agenda?” Sofia asked impishly, looking at their joined hands.
“Later,” Silas promised, leading her towards a loud neon sign. “First, a drink.”
The Salty Cod was as dark inside as the sign outside was bright. It was full, but not crowded. A four-piece cover band was crammed into one corner, a beautiful woman on lead vocals covering Bonnie Raitt.
The ache in her delivery made Sofia wish she could sing. Silas waved at the bartender as they approached, then leaned in close. “What do you want?”
Sofia stretched up on her toes to look at the drafts. “Blue Moon.”
Up close, the bartender looked familiar. He caught her eye as he took their drink orders. “Sofia?”
She squinted a little as the past crept up on her again. “Decker?”
The bartender’s laugh nearly drowned out the band. “Sofia Buck back on the strip and in my bar! What are you doing back in town?”
“I…” Her glib response dried up on her tongue. Her father was dead and she was here to sell his legacy, possibly to some developer who would tear down her Grandfather’s piece of this scrap of coastline.
Decker saw the pause. “Hey, I heard about your Dad. I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks, Dex,” she said softly.
“So you two know each other?” Silas asked.
Sofia laughed. “Sorry. Silas Wilde, Dex Adams.”
Decker slid their glasses across the bar on cardboard coasters. “I know this clown. He hustled his way into a darts game a few months ago and we haven’t been able to shake him yet.”
“How you doing tonight?” Silas exchanged a twenty for the beers.
“Pretty good.” Decker mopped the wet streaks on the bar. “Can’t complain.”
“So,” Silas asked, “How do you guys know each other?”
Decker answered first. “Sofi here taught me how to kiss.” He waggled his eyebrows at her from under a worn Bruins cap. “Back when we were too young to know anything about anything.”
“Really?” Silas grinned. “Tell me more.”
“She busted my ass about having no finesse.” Decker poured a few drinks for other patrons. “Worked, too. Married a farmer’s daughter I met up at UVM. She’s a pediatrician now, and our little guy is three and a half.”
“That’s great, Dex.” Sofia had forgotten the couple of months in high school when she and Decker couldn’t keep their hands, or their mouths, off one another.
Buck's Landing (A New England Seacoast Romance) Page 4