The Way Home

by Katherine Spencer

  “I think he’ll do fine,” she said finally. “As long as you’re clear. As long as you tell him he has to come right back. No side trips.”

  Before Liza could answer, Jamie came in through the back door. Claire followed Liza into the kitchen to meet him. He had been working in the garden, and his face was streaked with sweat and dirt, as were his clothes. But he looked happy, Claire thought. Practically victorious, stretching out his T-shirt, which he had used as a basket and filled with ripe vegetables from the garden.

  “Look at all these tomatoes. They’re awesome. And I found some lettuce and string beans. I think that new patch of fence is keeping the rabbits out, finally. But I have to check it every morning.”

  “My, what a harvest. Here, put them on the counter by the sink. I’ll take care of it.”

  Claire stepped aside so Jamie could dump out the contents of his shirt. Liza laughed. “I think we need to buy you a real basket, Jamie.”

  “There’s a wooden bushel in the barn. But I didn’t expect to find so much stuff ripe today. It’s amazing how it just grows overnight.”

  “A garden is amazing,” Claire agreed. She hadn’t been in the vegetable patch much this year. Jamie had taken over practically all of her work out there. But she already knew the pleasure that came from working in the earth and helping things grow. It was wonderful to share this with Jamie.

  He had worked hard out there these past weeks. It was good to see him take pride in the fruits—well, actually the vegetables, Claire silently amended—of his labor.

  He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down at the sink. “I guess I’ll clean up and change my clothes.”

  “Before you go up, I need to ask you something,” Liza began.

  She quickly explained the problem with the flower delivery and showed him the florist’s order. “The shop is not far from Quincy Market. You can jump right off the highway and back on.”

  Claire saw Jamie’s expression brighten as Liza described the quest. She hoped that was a good sign, his pleasure at being trusted with this important mission.

  “And you need to come right back. No side trips,” Liza added. “The bride will check in around two. She was expecting the flowers to be delivered. We can’t have them any later than that.”

  “I’ll be back before she notices anything’s missing,” Jamie promised.

  He met Claire’s gaze, and she smiled. “I’ll pack you some lunch. This way you won’t have to stop.”

  She sent up a quick prayer. Please let him carry out this errand promptly and properly. It seemed such a small thing to ask, but so much was hanging in the balance.

  * * *

  FOR the next few hours, Claire had little time to worry about Jamie as she helped put the finishing touches on the guest rooms and began preparing for the many meals she needed to cook over the weekend.

  The bride and her family arrived promptly at two o’clock. Liza seemed tense as she showed Mari around the inn, carrying the list of all her requests and showing how she had followed them down to the letter.

  “There’s been a small delay with the flower arrangements, but I’ve sent a special messenger to pick them up. He should be back any minute,” Liza added, glancing at her watch.

  Mari looked a bit distressed. “I did want the orchid plants in the guest rooms when everyone arrived. But as long as he returns before the dinner, I suppose that will be all right.”

  “He’ll be back long before then,” Liza assured her.

  Claire forced a smile. “I have some refreshments ready—iced tea, lemonade, fresh chocolate chip cookies,” she announced, hoping to distract from Liza’s single slipup. “It will all be out on the porch when you’re ready.”

  The bridesmaids arrived in two full cars at three. There was a great deal of chatter and giggling as the young women gathered in the bride’s suite and helped her figure out which dress to wear for the rehearsal. Claire thought it sounded like a group of middle-school girls having a pajama party. At least the bride was no longer standing anxiously on the porch, watching for Jamie’s return.

  Liza was, though. She called Jamie on his cell phone, but he didn’t answer.

  Claire returned to the kitchen and started working on dinner again. She felt so anxious, she overworked the pie crust and had to start a new batch of dough.

  Mari came down, dressed for the rehearsal in a bold, tropical-print dress and high-heeled sandals, her long glossy hair pulled back and dangling down her back in a long ponytail. She looked like a model walking down a runway, Claire thought.

  “Are the flowers here yet?” she asked. “I ordered some for tonight, for the bridesmaids to put in their hair.”

  “I don’t think so,” Claire said, glancing at the clock. “But you should ask Liza. She’s out back.”

  Liza had gone out back to check the setup for the cocktail hour. Perhaps Jamie had called her cell phone by now to say he was on the way. Claire certainly hoped so.

  Mari left and Claire glanced at the clock. Three twenty-five. It was possible that he had hit traffic. It was a Friday afternoon and the height of the summer. Her heart felt full of dread. Jamie had not answered his phone. That was a bad sign.

  Claire went outside to get a handful of mint. She heard Liza and Mari talking, their voices tense and brittle. It was about the flowers. She felt so helpless. Had Jamie really gone off the rails now that they had finally put their trust in him again?

  Then the crunch of gravel in the drive announced the arrival of a car. Claire could barely make herself turn to see who was coming. More relatives or bridesmaids? The groom and his family?

  No, they were meeting up with the bride’s family at the church.

  She squinted into the sun, relieved to see her old green Jeep pull up to the back of the house.

  It was Jamie, back with the flowers. Just as he had promised.

  She could see the trunk loaded with blooms and more on the seat beside him. He jumped out and called to Liza. She had come around the back of the house and was practically running toward him.

  “Sorry I’m late. There was a ton of traffic and the battery on my phone died. I was going to call you but I didn’t want to stop. I got all the flowers,” he said. He pulled open the back of the Jeep and began to take out boxes filled with flowers. “The florist didn’t have the white roses,” he added.

  “He didn’t?” Liza let out a long sigh. “No wonder he said he couldn’t bring the order until tomorrow. I hope he took that off the bill.”

  “Don’t worry. I made sure he didn’t charge you. I had to park the Jeep a few blocks away, at a lot, and I was just walking back and I saw some white roses in another flower shop. So I got those for you at a different place. I guess that took a little extra time. I hope that was okay.”

  “Okay? That was brilliant!” Liza gave Jamie a quick hug. “Thank you, Jamie. You did a great job. The bride will be very happy. So we’ll all be happy,” she said quietly.

  Claire saw Jamie laugh, looking tired but pleased. He carefully pulled out a box that held a huge, intricate arrangement. Claire walked closer and took another box of small purple orchids in individual pots.

  As she carried the flowers inside, she said a silent prayer. Thank you, Lord, for watching over Jamie and helping him do such a good job today. Please forgive me for ever doubting him.

  * * *

  AT four o’clock all the guests scurried out of the inn, heading to Cape Light and the church on the green for the wedding rehearsal. Liza came into the kitchen where Claire was still cooking and Jamie was eating a sandwich.

  “They’ve left for town. We have about two hours,” Liza said, glancing at her watch.

  “Is there anything I should do?” Jamie asked

  “Not right now. You must be tired from all the driving,” Liza said.

  Jam
ie shrugged. “I’m all right. It was sort of fun, having a deadline. Though I don’t think I want to drive a delivery truck, or anything like that.”

  Liza laughed and headed off to check the place cards. “Don’t worry, I think you’re meant for better things.”

  “You did a good job finding those white roses. The bride wanted those flowers most particularly,” Claire said, glancing at him. “I will say we got a little worried when we didn’t hear from you and it was past three.”

  “Yeah, I thought you might. But I couldn’t stop to call and waste more time. I know you must have been thinking I stopped to see my friends and hang out.”

  Claire felt her body grow tense, but she didn’t turn around.

  “I didn’t mean that,” she said.

  “You’re a bad liar, Claire. It’s all right. I sort of deserve that. I hope you and Liza can trust me now; that’s all I’m trying to say.”

  “We do trust you, Jamie,” Claire said sincerely. “You’ve earned it. You’ve come a long way in the last few weeks—working hard and studying.” She turned to look at him. “I’m very proud of you.”

  She could see he was embarrassed by the praise and maybe didn’t quite believe it.

  “Well . . . thanks. I’m trying. I don’t know that I’ve done anything that spectacular. Except to keep the rabbits and deer out of the vegetables.”

  Claire smiled. “That, too, but I mean it. Liza feels the same. But I hope that you’re proud of yourself. That’s the most important thing.”

  He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be proud if I pass that test. But it’s going to be hard. I’m not sure I can do it, and I hate to waste your money.”

  “Vera says you’re doing very well. You have several more weeks to study. Besides, you can take it again and again. The important thing is that you’re trying. You’ll get there. Don’t worry.”

  Jamie looked down at the table, fiddling with the crust from his sandwich. “If I do pass, it’s because you helped me so much. I just want to thank you, Claire—you and Liza—for giving me a second chance here, and pushing me to get my diploma.”

  “Oh, Jamie, I’m happy to help you. The test is just a small part. No matter what happens, no matter where your life takes you, there will always be a place for you with me. If not at this inn, then at my cottage. I want you to know that.”

  Claire suddenly felt very emotional. It had been a trying day, a test for all of them. But they had come through it, and she felt as if a weight had been lifted.

  Jamie glanced up at her. He looked confused. “Why are you so nice to me, Claire? I never understood. Why did you pick me out? There were so many kids at the shelter.”

  Claire was surprised by the question. “Oh, I don’t know. I always thought you picked me out,” she said, with a small smile. She paused and waited until he looked at her again. “It was because God put love in my heart for you,” she added in a more serious tone. “I love you and have faith in you. And I know that God loves you even more and wants you to thrive, to work hard and do right, and use the talents and smarts He’s given you. I’m just a helper. A messenger, you might say.”

  Jamie slowly smiled. “I’m not a big churchgoer or believer, like you. But I’m starting to think maybe there really is a God up there who tries to help people. I can’t see any other way I could have been lucky enough to meet up twice with someone like you . . . I love you, Claire. You’re the only one who’s ever really helped me.”

  Claire was deeply touched by his admission. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and ended up doing a bit of both. He smiled at her and rose from his chair, then gave her a hug as he walked by.

  “I guess I’ll go up and change for dinner. Liza likes me looking smart when I serve these big parties.”

  Claire nodded and wiped her eyes. “Yes, you do that. We have to get the hors d’oeuvres set up by half past five. I think the hardest part is over,” she said quietly.

  The hardest part of this gala bridal weekend . . . and for Jamie and his struggles, she really meant.

  * * *

  AVERY arrived at the café around ten o’clock on Wednesday morning.

  A reporter from the Cape Light Messenger had finally visited the café and given it a great review. Avery had immediately bought a frame and was trying to decide where to hang it. Somewhere near the front door, visible to the outside—but somewhere where people waiting inside could see it, too?

  She checked a few spots, walking inside and outside the restaurant. The problem was, she actually needed more than one copy of the article. Or more than one good review. But it was a very good sign. And she was very proud.

  She propped it up in a spot near the front door and stepped back to check.

  A small child in a pink helmet whizzed by, so close behind her she felt a draft of cool air. Avery spun around just in time to see a little girl on a pink scooter fly past the restaurant, then slip to one side and crash into a pile of Mrs. McNulty’s blow-up water toys.

  Avery ran to help her. “Are you all right?”

  The little girl pushed herself up on her hands. She was sitting on the head of an inflatable dolphin. She looked a bit dazed but unharmed. Avery crouched down to talk to her. Her helmet had fallen forward and Avery pushed it back from her eyes.

  Big dark eyes and dark brown hair. She was very cute. And looked very familiar somehow.

  “Are you okay?” Avery asked quietly. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

  The girl shook her head but still didn’t answer. Mrs. McNulty ran out of her store and hurried over to them. “Emily, are you all right? You shouldn’t be riding that thing so fast. I’m going to call your father.”

  “I’m all right. I am,” Emily insisted, standing up on thin wobbly legs that stuck out from a pair of pink shorts. “I can go back on my own. Please don’t call him.”

  Mrs. McNulty’s phone rang. “Well, as long as you’re not hurt. Oh dear, I have to answer that.” And she headed back into her store.

  Avery was left to comfort the little daredevil. “Don’t cry, honey. It’s okay. Where do you have to go?”

  Emily looked down at her sneakers. “To the Tuna, just down the street.”

  Avery stared down at her. She was Mike’s little girl. That’s why she looked so familiar.

  “Do you want me to walk you? Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” She had taken quite a tumble. Maybe she was hurt and didn’t want to admit it.

  “I’m not supposed to go anywhere with strangers,” she told Avery in a serious voice. “I shouldn’t even talk to you.”

  “That’s right. But I know your dad. I can call him for you.”

  But before she could say more, Emily picked up her scooter and ran down the sidewalk, heading back to the Tuna. She jumped on and pushed with one foot, then disappeared quickly from view.

  Avery practically started laughing. Then she saw that Emily had forgotten her helmet. She picked it up and followed.

  Halfway down the street, it hit her again, the thought that she had never been inside the Lazy Tuna. Open for two months just a few yards away from her main competitor and never set foot in the door. She had meant to go, dozens of times. But once she met Mike, she had felt intimidated—or possibly too stubborn and proud.

  But here she was, hat in hand. Helmet in hand, actually.

  It was the perfect excuse to visit, and she did want to make sure Emily was really all right.

  The first thing she noticed was the pink scooter, tossed by the entrance. The restaurant was open to the street and the big gate had already been pulled up, though all the tables and chairs were stacked against a wall. A busboy was busily mopping the dark green linoleum floor with strong-smelling cleaner. He stopped to let her pass.

  “Is Mr. Rossi here?” Avery asked.

  “Mike? Yeah, he’s in th
e kitchen. Just go on back.”

  Avery nodded and carefully proceeded on the wet floor. It was hard to watch her step. There was so much to look at.

  She had imagined the inside of Mike’s restaurant would be colorful, but the reality was beyond her wildest guess. The theme seemed to be “Under the Sea.” The walls and even the ceiling were covered with murals of undersea life. Smiling starfish, cross-eyed crabs, leaping lobsters and grinning sharks, an octopus wearing saddle shoes and horn-rimmed glasses. Mermaids and Poseidon with his trident . . . spearing a fish sandwich. And in the very middle of the sea life community, the Lazy Tuna himself, lounging in sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt.

  But there was more. Lobster traps and colorful striped buoys, tarnished lanterns and fake palm trees. Fish nets that hung from the ceiling with beach balls and plastic fish inside. Tiny lights were strung throughout, and Avery could just imagine what the place looked like at night. The tables were plain wood, painted blue and white. The chairs were standard, too. A few beach chairs sat near the door, in the waiting area, next to a real lifeguard’s stand. She wondered if Mike ever sat up there with a whistle, keeping the crowd of diners under control.

  All in all, very cute, she thought. Very fishy-kitschy.

  She had just reached the kitchen when Mike came through the door, holding Emily by the hand. She looked up at Avery and pointed.

  “There she is, the lady who helped me.”

  Mike met Avery’s surprised gaze. “I thought she was talking about you. I’m sorry she nearly ran you over.”

  “Oh, I’m okay. I was worried that she hurt herself and didn’t want to tell me. Here, she left her helmet.”

  Emily grabbed it before Mike could. “Thanks.” She smiled, showing a gap where a tooth had fallen out. “I’m glad you helped me and not Mrs. McNutty.”

  “McNulty,” Mike corrected her. He shook his head. “You know her name by now.”

  Avery hid a smile. McNutty did fit fairly well, though she knew Mike was right not to encourage the nickname.