Driftwood Point

by Mariah Stewart

  “Well, I agree that the two places are very different. Country versus city, you could say. But if you’re asking me if I think she’s deliberately trying to separate herself from her Eastern Shore roots—I don’t know that I’d go that deep, Owen.”

  “I don’t think it’s all that deep. It looks to me that she’s almost running away from her past. Like she’s trying to forget.” Owen took two more beers from the cooler, opened one and passed it to Alec before opening the second one for himself. “Are you part of that?”

  “Part of what?”

  “Of what she’s trying to forget. What she wants to put behind her. Did you do something to her, back then, that would make her want to leave, to forget—”

  “Owen, if anyone should have been wanting to put the past behind where Lis is concerned, it should be me. I’m the one who was humiliated when she turned down my invitation to the prom. I’m the one who everyone snickered at behind their hands when she shut me down in front of everyone.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Alec told him.

  “Why would you ask someone to the prom in front of an audience?” Owen asked in disbelief. “Even I—who was never turned down for a date, I should add right about here—even I wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that for the simple reason that the girl might be that one in a million who might say no.”

  “Yeah, well, your advice is about seventeen years too late. So to answer your question, no, I’m pretty sure that I’m not what Lis was running from, if in fact she was running from anything or trying to forget something from her past.” He tilted the bottle back and took a drink. “You know, you could probably ask your sister why she chooses one subject over another. There could be a very simple answer that has nothing to do with Cannonball Island.”

  Owen rocked for a moment, the bottle dangling from his left hand.

  “So how do you feel about her now?” he asked.

  Alec sighed. “About the same way I felt about her back then.”

  “Which was?”

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  “I fell for your sister in fifth grade and my feelings have never really changed. Back then, I thought she was that one-in-a-million girl. I still do. That answer your question?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” Owen gazed out across the dune toward the bay, then looked back at Alec. “You know if you hurt her, I might have to hurt you. Just sayin’.”

  “I would never do anything to hurt her,” Alec said softly. “I think I’ve been waiting for her to come back. I didn’t even realize it myself, but I think all this time, I’ve been waiting for Lis.”

  “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

  Alec started to get up, feeling he’d been dismissed.

  “By the way, what do you know about Cass Logan?” Owen asked, his voice casual but his expression intense.

  Alec hesitated before answering.

  “I know she’s not from around here. That she’s staying at a B and B in town for a while.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Eastern Shore. Vacation. Blah blah blah. Why’s she really here?”

  “What makes you think . . . ?”

  “Hello? Naval intelligence?” Owen sighed. “We both know she’s not here for R and R.”

  “What makes you think I’d know otherwise?”

  “I saw you talking to her, heads close together,” Owen replied. “And since we’ve already established that you’ve got it bad for my sister, I’m going to assume you’re not dating Cass, because you’d never stand there and have a cozy tête-à-tête with another girl while my sister was standing ten feet away. Especially not with me in the room.”

  Alec debated how much to tell Owen. Some parts of the deal with Deiter were still up in the air, and the last thing he wanted was to start rumors.

  “Cass is an architect,” he told Owen.

  “I know that much.”

  “Her father is Brian Deiter. He’s a builder who’s responsible for a number of housing developments up and down the Eastern Shore.”

  “And he has his eye on St. Dennis?” Owen frowned.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Why else would she be here?”

  Alec shrugged.

  “Don’t play with me, Jansen,” Owen said quietly.

  “That’s all I’m at liberty to say,” Alec told him. “Sorry.”

  Owen glared at him for a long, hard moment.

  Alec finally broke the silence. “I guess I should be going. I have some oyster beds to check on in the morning. Thanks for the beer.”

  “Anytime.”

  Alec got up and went to his car.

  “Hey, Jansen,” Owen called to him just as Alec opened the driver’s-side door. When Alec turned around, Owen said, “Good luck with my sister.”

  “Thanks.” Alec started the Jeep and drove off.

  He waited while two large SUVs tried to pass each other on the bridge, and thought about Owen’s obvious interest in Cass Logan.

  Alec weighed what he knew about Owen against the little he knew about Cass. He couldn’t even venture a guess what the outcome might be, but he knew it would be interesting to watch. The bridge cleared of its minijam, and Alec stepped on the gas and headed to St. Dennis, amused by the thought of the big guy possibly—finally—striking out.

  Alec drove home through the quiet streets of St. Dennis to the house he’d inherited from his uncle Cliff. For his money, it had been an exceptional evening. He wished he could relive that moment when Lis first walked into the gallery in that dress that made him catch his breath. It was silky, of soft, misty colors and gentle curves, and he’d found it smooth and cool when he finally got close enough to touch it. She’d worn her hair down in a sort of ponytail that had been worked into a knot at the left side of her neck and spilled over her shoulder. It was simple and exotic and sexy all at the same time. And as a bonus, he’d been able to look at her all he wanted without having to explain to anyone why he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, because it was her show, so everyone else was looking at her, too. She was the guest of honor, and for Alec—as much as he admired her art—she was the show.

  And then Cass Logan popped up.

  “Hey, Cass.” He’d come up behind her.

  “Hey, yourself,” she’d replied.

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I’m an art lover. I saw the notice in the paper that there’d be a showing tonight, so I thought I’d drop by, see what all the fuss is about. You know, there’s really not much for a newly divorced woman to do by herself on a Saturday night on the Eastern Shore. Besides, I like to know the area I’m going to be working in.”

  “That sounds like decisions have been made.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve already started on my part of the project.”

  “So when am I going to get to see what you’ve designed?”

  “It will be awhile before I have anything to show you. Maybe you won’t like what I’ve done. Maybe my dad won’t like it. Maybe he’ll decide the cost per unit versus the sales price isn’t cost-effective. Maybe your people will decide not to sell, or maybe not enough of them to make enough to offset the cost of the project.” Cass took a drink from the glass she was holding. “Lots can happen between here and there. Plenty can go wrong. That’s why we take it one step at a time.”

  “Okay. I get it. I’ll be patient.”

  “I hope you’ll also keep it all close to the vest. If word gets out about the project, who knows—another builder could get wind of it and decide it sounds like a good idea to them, too. They offer more money to the sellers, and boom! Deiter’s out, someone else is in. It happened to my dad not too long ago, so he’s understandably gun-shy about people talking. Loose lips and all that.”

  “Tell me how
it’s a bad idea for someone else to pay the islanders more money for their property.”

  “I’m surprised a man as astute as you needs to ask.” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “Let’s start with the fact that you’d have no guarantee that another builder would be willing to work with you to make sure the houses all fit in architecturally. I can make that guarantee. I can promise that nothing will be built that doesn’t look like it could have been here two hundred years ago. I can also guarantee that no corners will be cut during construction. You can ask anyone who’s ever worked with my father. Yes, he can be tough, he can be annoying as hell, he’s stubborn and wants what he wants, but you can count on him to deliver exactly what he says he will.”

  Alec listened without comment.

  “And someone else might be willing to play fast and loose where the environment is concerned.”

  “There are regulations—”

  “That can be overlooked if the price is right. We both know that.”

  “Sad, but true.”

  “We both know that sometimes the impact on the environment doesn’t manifest itself for years. How many times have you seen the EPA go after a builder only to find out he’s gone out of business and maybe he’s operating under a different corporate name. We both know who’s on the hook, right? The homeowners, or the insurance company for the builder, depending on how his policy was written.” She shook her head. “I promise that Deiter Homes is the best company for the job. We’ll do it your way, from design to construction, and we’ll go by the book when it comes to the regulations. Clean, quick, and honest.”

  “So in other words, trust you.”

  “Yes. Trust me. You will love my designs. They’re going to be fabulous.” She leaned a little closer, a smug smile on her lips. “So fabulous that I already decided that one of them will be mine.”

  “I can’t wait to see them.”

  “You’ll be the first. But I’d like your word that you won’t discuss the project until we’re ready to start talking to potential sellers.” Cass had paused. “You haven’t already talked it around, have you?”

  “I did discuss the possibility of some development with one person, but it won’t go beyond her.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I know her.” Ruby was Ruby, and not into idle talk or anything she might construe as gossip. “And I did mention the possibility of a sale with Tom Mullan, who owns the properties we looked at this week. I did ask him not to talk about it, though, and he agreed.”

  “I guess you had to confide in him in order to get the key to the house.”

  Alec had been just about to respond when he realized Owen had joined them.

  “Alec,” Owen had said, his eyes on Cass, “aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  And of course, he had, and then he’d taken advantage of Owen’s presence to back away and rejoin Lis.

  But for tonight, he’d already given enough thought to Cass and the project and where it was going. He’d rather think about Lis, and how great the evening had been for her. She’d been right when she said that most of the town had come to see her work. His aunt Grace had been diligent in beating the bushes on behalf of her friend Ruby, who’d been telling Grace for weeks how proud she was of Lis and how she hoped a lot of people would show up. Grace had taken that as her personal mandate to ensure that the town turned out in droves, and she’d done a damned good job of it, judging by the number of people he’d seen filing in and out of the gallery.

  Lis had commented on the fact that many of their classmates had come, and while he assured her that everyone was happy that she’d returned home a successful artist, he hadn’t told her about the part where he’d called a lot of them himself, or that the vast majority of them had remembered her as a snob.

  “Lis Parker? Yeah, I remember her. She never had two words to say to anyone.”

  Or: “Oh, Lis Parker, right. I heard she was living in New York or something. She any friendlier these days than she was back in school?”

  Or the one that stung the most: “Lis Parker? You mean the one who turned you down for the prom in front of half the student body and made you look like a dork? That Lis Parker?”

  Yeah, he’d sighed. That Lis Parker.

  They just didn’t know what she had been dealing with at home, didn’t know what a crazy man her father had been, how he had blamed St. Dennis for everything that was wrong in his life. Alec hadn’t known it back then, but over the years, he’d heard enough to piece it together. Hearing it from Lis only confirmed the rumors.

  But the friends he’d called had all come tonight, and as Lis had come away with a different outlook on them, so they, too, had seen her in a different light.

  “I didn’t remember her as so friendly and nice. I guess you were right, Alec. Or maybe I had her mixed up with someone else. It has been a long time . . .” more than one person had said.

  “Hey, people change, right?” he’d replied.

  He felt sorry for her in a way. He’d had such a great time in high school, had good friends and had enjoyed his life back then immensely. He was always able to look back and smile. Lis seemed to have no such joyful memories. It was a shame, he thought as he pulled into his driveway. Kids should have fun times to look back on. Life is serious enough as you get older.

  Of course, the best part of the evening came after the exhibit, when he and Lis finally got to be alone. And, he was happy to recall, the kiss they’d shared tonight had been everything he’d hoped it would be, filled with the promise of other kisses to come. No need to rush the journey, he’d told himself. He wanted to savor every mile of the ride.

  He pulled into his driveway and parked near the small garage that housed his bike, a kayak, a canoe, and his tools. The Jeep was too large to fit even without the kayak, so he’d gotten into the habit of leaving it in the driveway. He got out and locked the car behind him and walked around to the front, where he picked up some litter from the lawn and tossed it into the trash can on the side of the house.

  Once inside, Alec turned on the light in the front hall, which his cousin Dan had jokingly told him wasn’t large enough to be considered a foyer. The house was relatively small but it had suited Alec and his uncle Cliff just fine. Cliff had never married, so it was always just the two of them until Cliff died.

  Then the house fell to Alec, who’d been grateful to inherit it. He loved the place, small though it may have been. To the devastated, frightened orphan boy he’d been, the warmth he’d been offered here had gone a long way in helping him past the tragedy that had befallen his family. He’d known Cliff well before the accident, had spent plenty of time in St. Dennis, so it wasn’t as if he’d been sent to live with a stranger in a strange place. He already loved the older man, had always been welcome in this house, and as he’d told Lis, from the moment Cliff was named his guardian, he’d treated Alec like his own son.

  This small house was home to him, and it had never occurred to Alec to live anywhere else. After college, he came back to St. Dennis, and to this house. Even during those few years he spent in Havre de Grace working as an environmental consultant, he returned to this house every weekend. He’d passed up job offers in other places that he considered geographically undesirable because they weren’t a quick and easy drive to St. Dennis; had lost a woman he’d thought he loved when it came down to a choice between moving to Portland with her and living on the other side of the country, or losing her and staying where he was. He wasn’t sure if his choice said more about the way he felt about this house, this town, or the way he felt—or didn’t feel—about the woman. Either way, he’d never second-guessed his decision. As Ruby was fond of saying, “You need to know where you belong.” There was no doubt in Alec’s mind that he belonged right here, in this house, in this town.

  He was hoping that sooner or later, Lis would come to the conclusion t
hat she belonged here, too.

  “HERE, LET ME give you a hand with that.”

  Owen had come outside when he saw Lis struggling to get something out of the trunk of her car.

  “Like you gave me a hand last night?”

  “Did I interrupt something?” He took the easel from her hands and carried it toward the house. “Where did you want this?”

  “In the front bedroom, and you know damned well you did.”

  “Lisbeth Jane, you watch your tongue. It’s the Sabbath.” Ruby had come out onto the porch and stood with her hands on her hips.

  “Sorry, Gigi. But he—”

  “Hush. Don’t be telling tales.” Ruby turned and went back into the store, and Lis laughed out loud in spite of having been chastised.

  “What else?” Owen appeared by her side at the back of the car.

  “You could grab that box of paints, and my other suitcase.”

  He reached past her, picked up the box and the suitcase and was gone again. She finished emptying the trunk and took the last box inside.

  “Are you going to have breakfast with Gigi and me?” Owen asked as he passed Lis on the steps.

  “I had coffee earlier. I just want to get my stuff set up.”

  “You’re going to use Gigi and Pop’s old bedroom as a studio?” he asked.

  Lis nodded. “It has the best views and the best light, and Gigi said she had no use for it now, so I was welcome to it.”

  “I thought the old cottage was going to be your studio.”

  “Even if it can be restored, it’s going to take a long time before I can set up shop there. I can’t sit around doing nothing while I wait.” She went up a few steps past him, still talking. “I have a painting in my head for Gigi that I want to get started on right away. This is just temporary.”

  “What if the cottage can’t be saved?”

  “Then I’ll think of something else.”

  “Sounds like you’re making plans to stick around for a while more. Wouldn’t have anything to do with old Alec, now, would it?”

  Ignoring the question, she said, “What was all that about last night, anyway?”