Seaside Romance

by Mia Ross

  “I hope you’re right. I’ll be up late, so call anytime.”

  On that slightly more optimistic note, he hung up. Sighing, Ben tilted his head back and sent up a heartfelt prayer. “I know You’ve got a lot to do, but I could really use Your help down here.”

  Figuring that sentiment pretty much covered it, he grabbed a spare jacket and jumped into his truck. The fuel gauge hovered just above E, and he bit back an exasperated scream while he backtracked to the garage for the gas can he used on job sites. It was half-empty, but he drained it into his tank while he mentally added “stop at gas station” to his list for tomorrow morning.

  “Long stinkin’ list,” he growled as he finally pulled out. “I need an assistant or something.”

  While it did nothing to solve the problem, complaining to himself vented some of his frustration, so he kept going with it as he made a circuit of all the places in town his father might go. It didn’t take long to discover the other Thomas and Sons truck was nowhere to be found. That left him with Schooner Point, which had always been one of Dad’s favorite spots. It was where he’d proposed to Ben’s mother so many years ago, and that he’d head up there now made a twisted kind of sense to Ben.

  The sky was clear as a bell, but the sliver of a moon suspended in the darkness didn’t provide much in the way of help. As he approached the isolated ridge north of town, he squinted into the distance, searching for something that would tell him someone was up here.

  There. A faint dot of light, out near the edge of the cliff. Ignoring the rough-cut road that wound along the tree line, he headed straight for that pinpoint of light, following it like a beacon on the water. When he finally located it, he was relieved to find it was connected to his father’s truck.

  Glancing up into the star-filled sky, he smiled. “Thank you.”

  Was it his imagination, or did a star up there shine a little brighter for just a second? Figuring it was his exhausted brain playing tricks on him, Ben shook off the ridiculous idea and climbed out of his seat. Heading toward the ridge, he put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans to give the appearance of a guy out for a casual nighttime stroll.

  When he reached the truck, he saw his dad inside, staring out at miles of starlit ocean. He’d often mentioned bringing Ben’s mother here when they were dating, and how they’d stay for hours, admiring the view and talking about their dreams for the future. Tonight, he looked like he was lost in memories of what used to be.

  To avoid startling him, Ben tapped lightly on the driver’s window. After another tap, his father blinked and looked out at him in surprise. When he rolled down the window, the strains of “Fly Me to the Moon” floated from the cab, and Ben swallowed hard. It was his mother’s favorite song.

  Keeping things light, he forced a grin. “Hey, there.”

  Apparently, he was a terrible actor, because he got a frown for his trouble. “Is something wrong?”

  “Eric’s been waiting in Rockland half the night for you.” Leaning his arms on the window frame, he added, “You were supposed to have dinner with him.”

  Dad leaned his head back against the seat with a groan. “I forgot.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  He motioned Ben inside, and once he was settled, Ben called his brother. “I found him up at the point. He’s fine.”

  “Good. Give him a good shake for me, wouldya?”

  Ben didn’t think that would help much, so he suggested, “Why don’t you come up this weekend? You can do it yourself.”

  Despite his gruff demeanor, Ben knew Eric would never lay a hand on anyone in anger. After a moment, his brother chuckled. “I’m already over it. Tell him good-night for me.”

  Ben hung up then took a breath before facing his dad. “We were worried sick about you. What were you thinking, disappearing like that?”

  “I was home, getting cleaned up after work, and when I got out of the shower, I stood there for a minute.” Meeting Ben’s gaze, his face contorted with pain. “Do you know how quiet an empty house is?”

  Lately, Ben hadn’t been home enough to experience it for himself, but it didn’t take much to imagine how it felt to be alone all the time. “Maybe you should leave the radio or TV on, so there’s some noise.”

  “Noise isn’t the same as someone being there,” Dad explained sadly. “I lived with my parents till I started fixing up that place for your mother and me to live in when we were married. I’ve never been alone this long in my life. I’m not good at it.”

  The optimist in Ben wanted to point out he had two sons and plenty of friends to ease that loneliness, but something stopped him. Nearly sixty, his father wasn’t talking about simply having company. He needed a companion to spend his off-hours with. Someone to take out to dinner and a movie, someone who argued with him about what color to paint the living room. Since Ben hadn’t managed to find that special person for himself, he didn’t think he was in a position to give anyone advice on their personal life.

  Still, he was a problem solver by nature, and he couldn’t just let his father struggle if there was a way to make him feel better while his heart recovered from the tumble it had taken. “Okay, I get that, but you can’t just vanish like you did tonight. If one of us calls, you have to answer your phone.”

  “I will from now on. I’m sorry.”

  His apology rang with honest remorse, and Ben decided it was time to shove him back into the life he’d once enjoyed so much. “And we’re going to church on Sunday.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Then on Monday you’re gonna make an appointment with either a therapist or Pastor McHenry. I don’t care which, but it’s long past time you got some help dealing with all this. And don’t try to welsh on it,” he added sternly, “’cause I’ll be checking up on you.”

  A hint of his father’s old spirit flared in his eyes. “You can’t do that. I’m an adult.”

  “When you start acting like one, I’ll quit treating you like a four-year-old.”

  Dad opened his mouth to retort, then slowly closed it and shook his head. “I guess I deserved that one. This must be tough on you, and I apologize for making things so difficult. A father’s supposed to take care of his son, not the other way around.”

  Filled with regret, that statement summed up the aggravation Ben had been feeling for weeks now. Hearing it laid out in its simplest terms, he forgave his father on the spot. Resting a hand on his arm, Ben said, “Family supports family, no matter how old we get. I’m willing to go on helping as long as you’re trying to help yourself.”

  That got him a wan smile. “Pray to God but row for shore?”

  Ben’s granddad had fished the Atlantic until the day he died, and that was one of his favorite sayings. Hearing it now made Ben even more confident that his father could navigate his way through these rough waters and find a safe harbor on the other side. “Absolutely. You’re as good a sailor as you ever were. You’ve just lost your bearings. Once we get you a new compass, you’ll be fine.”

  He chewed on that for a minute then nodded. “I like that idea. It sure beats rowing around in circles.” After a minute, he added, “When were you gonna tell me about Dave Klein’s offer?”

  He stiffened reflexively, angry at his friend for making a bad situation worse. “You know about that?”

  “Course I do. He called to ask if it was okay with me. I told him I thought it sounded perfect for you. So why didn’t you mention it?”

  Ben shrugged, hoping to give the impression the opening wasn’t that big a deal. “I’m mulling it over.”

  “Why? Restoring old places is what you’re best at, and you love it. What’s to mull?”

  He didn’t have a reasonable answer to that, so he stalled. Finally, inspiration struck. “I have to finish our current jobs before I consider doing anything else.”

  “We’ve got things lined up through the fall, and Davy needs you in June. Stay here through Memorial Day, then you’ll be in Boston for the nice weather.
The timing couldn’t be better.”

  Actually, Ben amended silently, the timing couldn’t be worse. Because his father’s approval made it possible for him to accept the job, it would make it that much harder for him to say no. He was dying to spread his wings and experience life outside his tiny hometown, but in his heart he knew staying in Holiday Harbor was the right thing for his family. “Like I said, I’m thinking about it.”

  “This is a great opportunity for you, son. Don’t turn it down because of me.”

  “I won’t.” Not entirely, anyway. “If you want some company tonight, you’re welcome to come home with me. Just remember I snore,” he added with a chuckle to lighten the mood.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine at my place.”

  Ben hesitated. He wanted to give his dad the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn’t sure it was the smart thing to do. The man had gotten rattled by a quiet house and had basically run away. Could he be trusted to stay by himself?

  “I’ll be fine,” he repeated more forcefully. “Go home and get some sleep. You look like you got run over by an 18-wheeler.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Still, the insult came with a slight grin, which was an improvement over what he’d found when he first climbed into the truck. Opening the door, he paused to look his father directly in the eyes, searching for potential trouble. He didn’t find any but still said, “Call me if you get lonely again.”

  “Won’t need to,” he replied confidently. “I’m gonna set the TV timer so it’ll stay on until I fall asleep.”

  Pleased that his suggestion had been taken well, Ben said, “Okay, then. Night.”

  “Night, son. Thanks for coming after me.”

  He almost answered, “Anytime,” then thought better of it. Instead, he patted Dad’s shoulder and left the cab. Inside his own truck, he waited until he heard the other engine start up. He was tempted to follow the old truck back into town, then realized that might suggest he didn’t trust his father to get himself home.

  Swallowing his misgivings, Ben headed back to his place for the second time that night. Something told him tomorrow was going to be another long, challenging day. He’d better get some sleep.

  * * *

  Before Lauren could blink, it was Saturday morning. Early Saturday morning. Her first week as the assistant manager of Toyland had been a blur of springtime activities Julia had cooked up to draw children and their parents into the store for some fun—and shopping. Being the last day before Easter, today promised to be a doozy, and Lauren would have welcomed the chance to sleep right up until they unlocked the front door.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this now instead of last night,” she grumbled while she and Julia got dressed at the crack of dawn.

  Handing her a steaming cup of Kona blend, her friend responded with something between a yawn and a laugh. “I heard they tried that once years ago, and raccoons stole every last egg. It was a disaster.”

  Odd as it was, at least that was a good reason for being up so early, Lauren thought while they made their way to the town square. Several people were already there, doing the yawning-laughing thing while an older woman with pink cheeks and a cheerful smile handed out cartons of colored eggs from a child’s red wagon.

  “Please keep them in the square,” she directed a group dressed in heavy sweaters like Lauren’s. “Don’t put two eggs in the same spot, and if you run out, come find me. There are plenty more. God bless you all for coming out this morning.”

  Taking Lauren’s arm, Julia led her over to get in line. When they reached the front, the woman’s face lit up, and she folded Julia into a warm hug. “They’re just beautiful!” she approved, motioning to the impressive inventory of eggs. “Letting the children make the eggs they’re hunting for was a wonderful idea.”

  “I’m so glad you’re pleased. Lauren Foster, I’d like you to meet Ann McHenry, our pastor’s wife and choir director of the Safe Harbor Church. And soon to be my mother-in-law.”

  While they shook hands, Ann beamed at Lauren as if they’d known each other forever instead of ten seconds. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I have to tell you, my granddaughter Hannah thinks you hung the moon.”

  This woman projected unabashed warmth, and Lauren’s habitual reserve melted in the face of it. “She’s pretty great herself. All the kids we had in this week were fantastic, but she’s something else.”

  “That she is,” Ann said with a trace of a proud Irish lilt. Winking at Julia, she added, “It’s a McHenry trait, you know.”

  Laughing, Julia hugged her around the shoulders and reached in for two buckets of eggs. Handing one to Lauren, she introduced her to the others as they made their way around the large park, tucking eggs here and there as they went.

  By the time they reached the white gazebo, Lauren’s head was spinning with new faces and the names that went with them. “I can’t believe this many people would get up so early to do this. It’s so sweet.”

  “It’s a tradition here, making the most of every holiday.” Resting a hand on one of the slender columns, she surveyed the grassy square with a smile. “Their devotion to their history is one of the things I like most about this place.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren noticed a familiar dark green pickup pulling in next to the church steps. Ben hopped out and headed in their direction, and Lauren couldn’t help admiring his long, confident stride as he moved over the grass. A man on a mission, she realized with a little grin. One of the busiest men she’d ever met, he always seemed to be going somewhere but still made time to help out with things like this. It said a lot about the kind of guy he was.

  “Morning, ladies.” He greeted them with one of his warm smiles. “Nice day for hunting eggs.”

  “Ben!” Ann called out, and he turned as she hurried up behind them. “Just the man I’ve been waiting for. Have you got my Easter lilies?”

  “And amaryllis and tulips and some other stuff I can’t pronounce,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “Perry down at the nursery insisted on throwing in some extra plants. Said the display was a little sparse last year, and he wanted to make sure it was top-notch this time.”

  She huffed derisively. “Sparse? I hardly think so.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me.” Ben lifted his hands in self-defense. “I’m just the messenger. Besides, wait’ll you get a look at what he sent you. That might make you feel better.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” she snapped, obviously smarting over the thinly veiled insult of her previous decorating. The woman’s quick temper surprised Lauren. Wasn’t the wife of a pastor supposed to be quietly supportive of her husband and his church, not wrangling with local businessmen? Apparently, Ann McHenry did things her own way, Lauren mused. She liked that.

  “Ann,” Julia offered in a soothing tone, “I’ll take over the eggs so the rest of you can get to work inside.”

  It took Lauren about half a second to understand she was being included in “the rest of you.” Because she couldn’t think of a single reason to protest, she decided it was best to go along. She and Ben fell into step behind Ann, who walked a lot faster than her appearance would suggest.

  “Irish,” he murmured, nodding forward with a fond smile.

  “And proud of it,” Ann retorted loudly, making it clear she’d heard him just fine.

  Laughing quietly, Lauren shook her head. It seemed that everyone she’d met in Holiday Harbor had their quirks, and they didn’t bother trying to hide them. They accepted people as they were, and they expected the same in return.

  During her time in New York, she’d never felt like she fit in with Jeremy’s friends. Talking to him about it had gotten her nowhere—he just told her to make more of an effort. She’d tried everything she knew to be part of the group, but she’d always felt like an outsider. As she stopped near Ben’s truck, a new possibility occurred to her.

  Maybe the problem hadn’t been with her at all. Maybe it was them, looking down on someone who wasn’t from
their close-knit society circle. No matter what she did, she couldn’t have changed where she’d come from, the middle-class upbringing her parents had given her. Now that she had the benefit of some perspective, Lauren understood that there was nothing she could have done to blend in with people like that.

  The realization made her feel better about choosing to leave that world behind, and she gratefully turned her attention to whatever job the brisk pastor’s wife had for her.

  Ann peeked over the side of his pickup, assessing the plants with a critical eye. Lauren was no expert, but they looked lovely to her, bursting with vivid green leaves and flowers running the gamut from ivory to blush to lavender.

  Taking out two potted tulips, Ann laughed. “I have to admit, Perry outdid himself this time. Let’s get them inside and watered.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ben answered dutifully. She headed inside, and when Lauren stepped up and held out her arms, he gave her a skeptical look. “We’re not gonna do this again, are we?”

  “Yes, we are. Load me up or I’ll tell Ann you turned down free help.”

  Sighing, he handed her two tall Easter lilies and grabbed a crate packed with sunny daffodils. “You’re mean.”

  While she knew the comment was meant as a joke, it gave a nice little jolt to her attitude, which up to now had been riding pretty low. Tossing her head in the defiant gesture she’d nearly forgotten, she strolled ahead of him. “You have no idea just how mean I can be.”

  Hearing him chuckling behind her made her smile, and her mood continued to brighten when she got a look inside the quaint white chapel that had captured her attention her first day in town.

  Whitewashed walls led up to what must have been a fifteen-foot ceiling braced by hand-hewn timbers. Age had darkened the wood, giving her the sensation of being on an old ship. There were three stained-glass windows on each side, depicting various scenes of boats, farms and the ocean. Some of them included animals and people dressed in homespun clothes, working the land and reeling in nets of fish.

  Humble was the word that came to mind while Lauren strolled through to admire the care that had gone into crafting this church. Even the lectern on the raised platform looked original to the building, and she recalled Julia telling her how much these people valued their history. That reverence was on display in every inch of this immaculately kept space, beautiful in its simplicity.