“I know,” Sean affirmed.
“Would you care to join us for lunch?” Marcie asked.
“Another time, perhaps. My mother’s home preparing lunch for us. So nice to meet you.”
Marcie and Zack said goodbye and went to find Jenny so they could head for their own lunch.
“She seems nice,” Marcie said.
“Nice and probably a bit overwhelmed dealing with a teenaged boy. I know my mother used to feel completely lost sometimes with Joe and me. But my dad would usually just calmly state it was the way of boys.”
She looked at him. “And did that work?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Her standards were high and we were expected to meet them.”
Marcie privately thought both Kincaid men showed the loving standards their parents had instilled.
The after-church crowd at the restaurant, combined with the summer tourists, had the café nearly full.
“Nice for the owner, not so nice for us,” Zack commented when told there would be a short wait for a table.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we could use our outdoor tables. Lots of people like to take advantage of the side terrace when the weather’s nice,” Marcie murmured, feeling self-conscious standing in line for a table at her own place. She was well aware of the speculative glances when customers saw whom she stood with.
“I like this place,” Jenny said, bouncing on her feet. “I want pancakes.”
“Didn’t you get breakfast?” Marcie asked.
“Yes, but not pancakes. Miss Cabot makes the best ones in the world. Gillian’s are good, too,” she added as if afraid of betraying a loyalty.
When a table was ready, Marcie led the way, stopping to greet friends and customers as she wound through the crowd. Many of her friends knew Zack and their history. She could just imagine the buzzing of conversation when they passed. Maybe coming here had been a bad idea. She raised her head. She didn’t care what others thought. She was happy to share lunch with Zack and Jenny.
While they waited, Marcie and Zack told Jenny how the café had looked when they’d been kids. Zack complimented Marcie on her renovations and then reminded her of the takeaway they’d tried one time. She laughed and caught his look.
“What?”
“Nothing—nice to see you laugh. I’ve missed that.”
Instantly she felt flustered. She glanced away, her heart pounding. When the meal was served, she tried to recapture her composure. Which was threatened yet again when she passed Zack the salt and his finger brushed hers. Taking charge of the conversation, she kept it firmly away from memories and focused on Joe and Gillian’s nightly calls, the weather and the proposed driving course.
They had driven their separate vehicles to the restaurant, so when the meal ended Marcie headed for her apartment, not wanting to leave their company. Zack and Jenny were heading home, Jenny still complaining she couldn’t ride in the rain.
And Marcie thinking about a dark-eyed man all over again.
“Auntie Marcie’s nice, isn’t she, Uncle Zack?” Jenny said as they watched Marcie drive away.
“She is.”
“And pretty.”
More than pretty. Her hair was always a soft shiny brown, satiny to touch, which he remembered from before. Her eyes lit up when she smiled, and he could feel the happiness whenever she laughed. He wanted to be with her, recapture what he’d thrown away.
“That, too.” He backed out of the space and headed for the house on the bluff. He’d enjoyed his time watching Jenny, but now he looked forward to some adult-only time—with Marcie. Would she go out to dinner with him if he asked again? Just the two of them. Time would tell.
“You should marry her. She’s really nice.”
He glanced at the earnest expression on Jenny’s face. “You think she’d marry me?”
“You’re nice, too,” Jenny offered hopefully.
“We’ll see.”
“Then I could be in your wedding,” Jenny added.
Zack burst out laughing. So much for matchmaking. His niece was getting into the wedding mode—anyone’s would do. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the wedding they’d almost had. And what it would be like to be married to Marcie Winter.
Chapter Seven
Zack turned in the driveway, the gray house with its white trim blending in with the gray drizzle, making him restless.
The phone was ringing when they entered. Zack went to answer as Jenny went upstairs to change into play clothes.
“Zack, man, have you decided? You’re killing me, man, with the suspense.” His team leader’s voice came through loud and clear.
“I’ll do it. But just the one race, Thomas. I’m not returning for good. I’ve got a few things going on here and can’t be away long.”
“Hey, a couple of weeks to get the feel of the track and the new car, and you’ll be ready to win the race. Then we’ll talk.”
“No more talk. I said I’d do this one, but it’s the end. And any money I win goes to Jacques’s parents, got that? I’ve given it a lot of thought since your call.” Jacques had been their only son, only child. And Zack wanted to make sure they knew how much he’d meant to him.
“Hey, man, whatever you say. We’ll meet you in Stockholm in two weeks. Two weeks, a week later we’ll be riding into the winner’s circle. We’re staying in the Olgatha Hotel near the track.”
“I’ll see you then.” Zack hung up. Once Jenny was asleep he’d call for plane reservations. He flexed his hands, imagining the feel of the wheel, already thinking about the turns of the course—one of the most challenging designs in the circuit. The adrenaline began pumping as he envisioned himself pushing the new car to the limit. He did like the speed and the control he could command over the machine. He always had.
Wednesday evening Marcie was home when the phone rang. She picked up, surprised to hear Gillian on the other end.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“We’re home! It took forever to get my car fixed. And we’ve been away from home so long, I just wanted to come straight back. We’ll go see Chicago and New York another time. How have you been? Jenny said you’ve been to the house and went on a visit to Monkesville with Zack. Tell me what’s going on.”
“We have settled on a tentative friendship, I guess. It’s hard to avoid each other in such a small town. And with Jenny.”
“He was a love to watch her for us. I just hope it wasn’t too awkward dealing with him.”
Dare she share with Gillian how her feelings were growing for Zack? That’s what might prove awkward, since Gillian would soon be Zack’s family.
“Tell me about your trip and how it feels to be back,” she said, deciding to hold off a bit longer. And maybe see if she could quantify her own feelings better before telling Gillian.
Marcie smiled as her new friend went on and on about her love for Rocky Point and the new friends she’d made. When talk turned to the wedding, Marcie felt a pang of envy. She shouldn’t. She was happy for Gillian and Joe. But it did bring confused feelings. Maybe Marcie wasn’t as ready for friendship with Zack as she thought.
“One evening next week we need to review where we are so far,” Gillian said. “Oops, gotta go, the guys are putting things in the wrong rooms.”
Marcie hung up slowly and then bowed her head.
Heavenly Father, please remove the envy from me. I want to only rejoice for my friend in her happiness. Not everyone needs to be married. But if You see the way clear, and I know You do, then maybe send a hint to me of what I should do. Bless Gillian and Joe, and may their marriage be one of loving happiness.
Her office phone rang midmorning and when she picked it up, it was Gillian again.
“Sorry to bother you at work. I wanted you to come vet the renovations Joe and his guys did on my studio. I’ll call in a lunch order from the café and if you bring it down, we can eat and talk. And you can tell me how it strikes you—as a possible client.”
“Sounds like
a plan, and let lunch be my treat. I’ll be there around one.”
The rain from earlier in the week had ended, leaving the summer day clear and fresh. Marcie enjoyed walking along Main Street toward the sea. Joe Kincaid had his automotive restoration shop right near the water and had rented space in a second building he owned to Gillian for an aerobics studio. Marcie had been one of the first to sign up and was excited classes would be starting soon. Gillian had had the place painted, some walls installed and the bathroom renovated. At one time she thought she might even be living in the apartment above the studio, but Joe’s proposal and the resolution to her inheritance had changed all that.
When she opened the door to the studio, Marcie was instantly impressed. It looked amazing. The walls were a light yellow, bound to be bright and cheery even on the rainiest days. The hardwood floors gleamed. There were mirrors along one long wall, pads stacked up and stair step equipment along another wall. The big picture windows on the street had been frosted partway up for privacy, while letting in all the light.
“Hi,” Gillian said, coming from a back room. She ran to give Marcie a hug and then turned and swept her arms wide. “What do you think?”
“It looks amazing.”
“Come on in the back. It’s so nice. Joe got me some furniture for my office, including a small conference table where we can eat.” As they headed to the rear of the building, Gillian looked at her with a considering look. “How are things going with Zack? Is it really awkward?”
“It was at first. Now sometimes I forget he’s been away. Not that I think he’s going to stay.” She wished she could believe he would. He was constantly in her thoughts. She even caught herself counting the minutes until she could see him again.
“Yeah, I know. Sit down. I don’t know him very well, but he seems preoccupied most of the time I’ve been around him. Like he’s sad or something. I guess he’s missing racing.”
“A friend of his was killed a few months ago. He’s still grieving,” Marcie said, frowning. “I don’t know much but that Jacques was a close friend. His death is one reason Zack’s back. I wish I could help, but he keeps things bottled up. He did when his parents died, too.” Just being around him back then seemed to help. Now she wasn’t sure. She opened the bags she’d brought and spread the lunch out. She’d opted for a shrimp salad with crusty Greek bread, iced tea and individual apple crisps the Cabot sisters had made for today’s special.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gillian said, quiet for a moment. “The food looks amazing, Marcie. Thanks.”
“Always out to please the customer. Where are the Kincaid guys today?”
“Joe’s back at work. You should have seen how frustrated he was not to be able to fix my car the minute it died. Zack was going in, too, something about a teenager they have interning there this summer.”
“Interning?” Marcie laughed. “He’s also working at my place for cash. Sean O’Connell. Nice enough kid. Fascinated with Zack.”
“Zack seems to think he’s interested in racing.”
“Maybe that, too, but to see them together, you can tell Sean really hangs on everything Zack says. Which is good, but odd in a way.”
“In what way?”
“I didn’t see Zack Kincaid as a mentor,” Marcie said.
“Umm.” Gillian finished her mouthful before replying. “Do you think you see him as he was, and maybe not as he now is?”
Marcie stared at her as she considered that. “Maybe. He’s not quite as wild as I remember.”
“I know it must have hurt horribly when he left. I think it’s nice you even give him the time of day,” Gillian said.
“It’s been ten years.” Not that there was a time limit on some hurts.
“Some hurts never completely go away,” Gillian said.
No, they don’t, Marcie thought, though lately a new interest in Zack was replacing the old hurt. “Enough of me. Tell me about opening for classes. When?”
Gillian started in with her plans for the near future, working around the upcoming Vacation Bible School and then time off for the wedding and honeymoon. Her plans were to ramp up to a full schedule by mid-September. School would be in session, summer tourists gone and local residents ready to start a new routine, at least that was her hope.
“Any advice you can give would be welcomed,” she said, winding down. “You’ve had a very successful business for years.”
“I’ve been blessed. We could pray before the opening, asking God to bless the business, the proprietor and all those who partake of the benefits.”
“Perfect. That’ll be next week. I’m calling everyone today who already signed up. In your case, here’s your personal notification—the first class will be Monday at 2:00 p.m. You indicated afternoons would be best.”
“I can always get away for an hour or so. I can’t wait.”
“Now, the next subject. The wedding.”
The two discussed the plans for the reception, to be held in the church fellowship hall. Marcie was catering the event and the menu had to be finalized. She offered Gillian and Joe a tasting, sampling all the various items that could be supplied. “It’s like a preparty,” Marcie said. “I’ve done it for a couple of other weddings I’ve catered. Sometimes the entire wedding party attends. That’s up to you. Jenny would love it.”
“I would, too. We could invite everyone, so they get to meet each other. I’m thinking the matron of honor and best man.”
Marcie laughed. “Zack will be surprised, I bet.”
Gillian nodded, mischief in her eyes.
When Marcie left to return to the restaurant, she impulsively turned the opposite direction, which would take her past Joe’s shop. The big roll-up doors were raised, letting all the fresh air and ocean breeze sweep through. Three vintage cars stood on blocks, two being worked on by two men, another man at a workbench. She spotted Zack with Joe, heads bent into the engine compartment of an old car. She wished she knew makes and models and could identify the car. She loved the long flowing lines. It had obviously been well cared for over the decades. Soon it would purr as it had on the first day it was made.
For an instant she felt transported back to the garage at the house on the bluff where she’d spent many afternoons watching Joe and Zack, bent over cars, revving engines and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“It’s nice you can make a hobby a paying business,” she said.
“Hey, Marcie, good to see you.” Joe wiped his hands and gave her a hug. “Have you seen the studio?”
“Just came from there. It looks amazing. I can’t wait to start up.”
“Gillian says soon,” Joe said, flicking a glance at his brother.
Zack had also straightened, and was now wiping his greasy hands. He’d said a quiet hi, his gaze concentrated on the towel.
“How are your hands?” Marcie asked, conscious of Zack’s silence.
Joe held them up, palm out. “All healed. It sure took longer than I wanted. I think the oil and grease from the cars is helping them heal.”
“Yuck, couldn’t you just use some hand lotion?” Marcie said, wrinkling her nose.
Joe laughed. “Not the same. Need something?”
Zack leaned against the car and watched her.
“No, just stopped to say hi now that you’re home.” She looked at Zack. “Did you ever connect with Dad about insurance?”
“No. I figure he’s not going to do business with me no matter what, so I’ll call around in Monkesville.”
She bit her lip. She knew her father was still angry about the way Zack had left things in the past, but business was business.
“I’ll swing by his place on my way back to the café and see what’s going on.”
“Don’t put yourself out,” Zack said. “I can take a hint. He’s not going to be happy if I stay around.”
“If? I thought you said you were.” Marcie felt the shock to her toes. She was just getting used to the idea of Zack staying, and now it sounded as if he m
ight not.
“Yeah, well, some things came up.”
“He’s going back to Europe for a race,” Joe said neutrally.
Marcie forced a smile. “How nice. Then I won’t have to bother about the insurance. You won’t be here to do anything about it anyway.” She turned.
“It’s just one race,” he said, walking to catch up with her and keeping pace as she left the garage.
“Sure, one and then another. Don’t worry about a thing, Zack. This time there’s nothing between us, so why not go back to what you love?”
“It’s not like that. It’s just one race. I’ve told them that’s the end. The new driver for the team isn’t working out. There are a lot of people earning a living off my racing. I can’t leave them in the lurch.”
Why did it feel like her heart was breaking all over again? “No need to explain.”
He reached out and stopped her with his hand on her upper arm, gently swinging her to a halt to face him. “Marcie, I’m coming back. I’m not leaving for good, just for one race at the end of the month. I’ll be gone two or three weeks, tops.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me,” he said, dropping his arm.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. You might even believe it at this moment. But once there, once back with the excitement and glamour we don’t have in Rocky Point, you might change your mind.”
“No, I told you, after Jacques’s death, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I want a future. I want ties and roots and permanence.”
She looked away. She’d wanted that, as well. But that dream had been smashed. “I’ve got to go.” She glanced at him and took off toward the café. This time he did not go with her.
As she passed the street her father’s business was on, she turned down it. It seemed as if it was harder and harder to see her dad anymore.
“Hi, Betty, is my father in?” she asked, entering the front room of the small office.
“Hi, Marcie. No, he’s off to Portland again. Did you need something?”
Marcie shook her head, wondering why her father was going to Portland again. Hadn’t he been there just last week? What was going on?
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