“Everything. The menu changes daily depending on what Sophie can get fresh that day and what she feels like making. So today we have she-crab bisque and grass-fed-bison burgers with garden lettuce and tomatoes.” He leaned back. “I think I’ll have the burger. I can’t resist anything with fresh tomatoes. It says here they’re grown right out back.”
“The BLT is speaking to me, and I think I’ll have to try the bisque.”
The waitress returned with their iced teas and took their orders.
“Lis said Sophie grows a lot of what she serves,” Owen pointed out, “and the flowers for all the tables as well.”
“She must be Superwoman. Run the restaurant, grow the stuff, cook the stuff . . .” Cass shook her head.
“And she’s also an attorney. She was working in her brother’s office in town, but last I heard, she’s pretty much given that up.”
“She’s definitely Superwoman.”
“It helps that her husband has a landscaping business—it’s right next door, actually—and he helps out a lot with the gardening. Plus they live upstairs, so neither of them has a commute.” Owen pointed to the picture wall. “So. The pictures. By the time Sophie was ready to open this place, she was pretty much out of money after buying the building and making the repairs it needed. This place’d stood vacant for a long time, so she had a lot of expenses. But she had to do something to spiff up the interior, and a plain old paint job wasn’t going to do it for her. She wanted to do something that no one else was doing, and she wanted the place to reflect the character of the town. So she asked some of her friends and friends of her brother’s and their grandfather’s if they’d give her copies of their old photos for the wall. Sophie had the pictures enlarged, and bingo. Décor. Take a good look later, you might recognize some faces.”
“Grace is probably the only person I’d know.”
“Grace is there, along with her husband and most of her family. When others found out what Sophie was looking for, they went through their attics and scrapbooks and came in with all you see there. There are wedding pictures and graduation pictures going back over a hundred and some years. Gigi said Sophie wanted the wall to be a tribute to old St. Dennis, and it definitely is that.”
“Nice. I’m itching to take a look. I hope that couple sitting next to the wall leaves soon.” Cass had lowered her voice to a near whisper.
“They look as if they’re nearly finished. And the name of the place? Blossoms? She named it after her grandmother Rose Enright, and her grandmother’s two friends, whose names were Lilly and Violet. When they were girls, people referred to them as the blossoms.”
“That’s so sweet. I love that.” Cass popped a chickpea into her mouth, chewed it, and then reached for another. “These things are addictive.”
“Not my taste, so you feel free to empty that bowl all by yourself.”
She laughed and pulled the bowl closer. “So did you figure out what that guy was all about?”
“What guy?”
“Your ex-brother-in-law.”
Owen shook his head. “Maybe I just imagined that he was trying to tell me something.” He paused. “But I just remembered Lis said she’d run into one of their cousins and she was sort of cryptic, too. I have no idea.”
Cass thought about the blond woman and the child from Bling. “Do you think Lis and Alec will have children?”
“I’m pretty sure they want to.” Owen tilted his head to one side. “What made you ask that?”
Cass shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe something Lis said the other night that I meant to follow up on.”
“I guess I missed that conversation.”
She could have told him he hadn’t missed it, because the conversation hadn’t taken place, but she was fishing and had needed a segue.
“Maybe. Maybe we were talking outside while you were in the kitchen.”
“What did she say?”
Cass shrugged. “I don’t remember how the topic came up.” She sipped her iced tea through a straw. “Did you have children? When you were married?”
“Me?” He seemed taken aback by the question. “Hell, no. If I had a child, you wouldn’t have to ask. That child would be with me. Well, part of the time, anyway. Don’t you think I’d have mentioned it when we were trading divorce tales?”
“Well, yes, I suppose you would have.” She smiled apologetically. “The question just seemed to blurt out. I do that sometimes. I’m sorry if it was too personal.”
“It’s not too personal. But the answer’s no, I have no children from my marriage or any previous relationships.”
Of course he would have told her—why wouldn’t he have?—but the woman in Bling with her sleepy child had sent Cass’s imagination into high gear. She felt herself relax, as if exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“I’m assuming you have no children in your past?”
“No. None. And, yes, I would have told you, too.”
Their sandwiches were served, and they both dove into their food.
“Everything okay?” the waitress asked as she breezed past on her way from another table to the kitchen.
“Great. Thanks,” Cass replied.
Having just taken a bite of his burger, Owen merely nodded.
A moment later he said, “Before you ask, no, I didn’t have a chance to talk to Jared. I thought I’d hit him with my request over a bottle of beer when the dive was over, but we never got that far today. Hopefully he’ll feel better later and we can have that conversation.”
Cass forced a smile. She had assumed Owen would have said something first thing this morning. She had to remind herself that her priorities might not be the same as Owen’s, and that he couldn’t control that Jared had a migraine. Still, she was disappointed. She clung to the hope of finding another place around the island to build their dock, and that hope was a lifeline to her.
“I never had a migraine, so it’s hard for me to relate,” she said. “But I’ve known people who’ve suffered with them, and I realize they can be murder. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“I sure hope so. I’m eager to work this wreck and see what’s really down there. Is there a second vessel under the ship? Are there traces of one of the lost islands?” Owen’s eyes shone with anticipation.
He was like a kid on a quest, she realized. But was it all about the hunt, or was it about finding the hidden prize? “This is like a treasure hunt to you, isn’t it?”
“Sort of. I’m just curious by nature. It doesn’t matter what we find so much as the fact that we discover something that hasn’t been seen for a couple of hundred years. It’s all treasure of one sort or another.”
The couple at the table nearest the photo wall rose and walked to the counter.
“Quick, before someone else sits there.” Cass nodded in the direction of the wall. “I’m going to take a look.”
She was out of her seat before Owen could respond. She stood in front of the wall of photos and scanned the faces, but couldn’t pick out anyone she knew.
“That’s Grace and Dan Sinclair’s wedding picture.” Owen came up behind her, and one hand on her hip, he reached around her to point to a bride whose windblown veil covered part of her face. “And that’s Alec’s parents, Carole and Allen—she was Grace’s sister—and their brother, Cliff. He raised Alec after his parents were killed in a car accident. Cliff was a boatbuilder, built most of the skipjacks for the watermen in St. Dennis.”
“I didn’t know that about Alec. I did know he was Grace’s nephew.”
“Cliff taught Alec his carpentry skills, left him the boatbuilding business and a house over on Lincoln Road in town. Alec and Lis have been living there.”
“I thought they were going to be living in the cottage out on the point.”
“They are. Alec’s looking for someone to rent the house while he decides what to do with it. He doesn’t really want to sell it, mostly for sentimental reasons, but he doesn’t want it to sit vacant
, either.” Owen pointed to another picture. “Here’s Dallas MacGregor and Grant Wyler on their wedding day. They had a double wedding with Dallas’s brother, Wade, and Steffie, who is Grant’s youngest sister.”
Owen pointed out other married couples in their wedding finery on their big day.
“This should be called the wedding wall.” Cass glanced from one happy couple to another.
“There are plenty of pictures of people doing other things besides saying ‘I do.’ We have high school graduations going back to the turn of the last century.” Owen showed her several. “New babies. Here’s Grace showing off her son Ford.”
Cass studied the photos. “Steffie in front of Scoop. Opening day maybe?”
“I guess. I wasn’t here for it. But that would make sense, because here’s Vanessa cutting the ribbon in front of Bling, and Brooke Madison—Brooke Enright now—standing in the open door of her bakery.”
“So if you want your picture on the wall, you have to graduate from somewhere, get married, have a baby, or open a business,” Cass said thoughtfully.
“Something like that.”
“How long do you have to live here to earn a spot?”
“Long enough to make your mark, one way or another.”
Cass turned and walked back to their table, a determined smile on her face. She was going to bring new life to Cannonball Island, and if that wasn’t making a mark, she didn’t know what was—whether or not her picture ever hung on the wall at Blossoms.
“What’s that smile for?” Owen sat back down at the table. “You look like you’re up to something.”
“Just thinking about all the work I have to do.” She took a long sip of iced tea. She was thinking about all the work she’d set out for herself. “That reminds me. I mentioned to Grace I was thinking about putting together a booklet of stories about the island. She said Lis had written down some stories Ruby told her and was thinking about putting them into a book, and I should get together with Lis. Do you know if your sister’s done anything on that project?”
Owen shook his head. “I know she did interview Ruby a number of times and recorded their conversations. I don’t know if those conversations ever got into island history beyond what happened in our family. But if you’re serious, you should give Lis a call. I don’t know of any written history of Cannonball Island beyond a footnote in a book about St. Dennis.” He paused. “You are serious, I can see it in your face. You get this look when you decide to do something. Like weed-whacking all those little graveyards or scrubbing up potatoes.”
Cass laughed. “Yes, of course I’m serious. Aside from the public relations benefits of having a book to offer our buyers, I think there should be a written history of Cannonball Island. We both know it’s unique.”
“It is that. I don’t know how much Lis has done with the information she’s compiled. I know she’s been painting up a storm since she came back home. She uses one of the upstairs bedrooms at the store as a studio, so she’s in and out a lot. She was there when I left to pick you up, so you might be able to catch her this afternoon.”
The waitress returned to the table to ask about dessert and coffee, which Cass and Owen both declined.
“I was all in for the pumpkin mousse, but I saw the look on your face when I asked her to repeat the selections,” Owen said after he’d paid the check and they’d gotten back to the car. “You look like a woman with a mission.”
“I would like to talk to Lis if she’s still at the store. I could call her, but since it’s on my mind . . .” Cass clicked her seat belt and he closed the passenger-side door.
“I know. Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.” He slid behind the wheel and started the Jeep. “That pumpkin mousse really did look good, though.”
“What a sport. I’ll make it for you sometime.”
“Really?”
“Ahhh . . . no. Not likely. Sorry. I’m really not a very good cook. But it’s not too late for takeout.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” He stopped the car, both hands on the wheel. “Don’t even think about driving off and leaving me here.” He put the car in park and hopped out.
Cass sat in the front seat writing a list of things she wanted to ask Lis about.
Five minutes later, Owen was back, a bag in his hand and a smile on his face. He got back into the car. “Thanks for the idea. Ruby will be happy. She loves pumpkin mousse.”
“All’s well that ends well, so you didn’t need my probably-not-very-good mousse after all.” Cass smiled and dropped her little notebook into her bag. “Besides, aren’t you the guy who bragged to me about how he could make all things apple and pumpkin with one hand tied behind his back?”
“I don’t recall the tied-up part, but yeah, I’m pretty good. And one of these days, I will turn your head with an apple pie that will be swoon-worthy.”
“If you’re that good, why don’t you make your own pumpkin mousse?”
“Pumpkins aren’t in season yet, and anyway, they take too long to bake. There’s all that cutting and pulling out the seeds. Time-consuming.”
“You mean you make it from scratch?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She couldn’t tell if he was serious or putting her on. She tried but couldn’t think of a comeback, so she sat quietly as they made the turn into the parking lot at the inn.
“Thanks for lunch. I enjoyed the food and the company. And I loved Blossoms. What a very cool place.” She opened her door without waiting for him to open it for her. She wanted to get into her car and drive directly to the island. With luck, Lis would still be in her studio and wouldn’t mind a short break. “I guess I’ll see you at the store. I want to catch up with Lis if I can.”
“Why don’t you drive back with me?”
“I don’t want you to feel that you have to chauffeur me around. If Lis isn’t there, I’ll probably come right back to the inn. You have other things to do.”
“I’m sure Ruby has things for me to do. So I’ll see you over there. And you’re right to want to get to Lis when you can. She’s so busy getting ready for the wedding, it’s hard to pin her down.”
“That’s what I was thinking. See you there.” Cass smiled and closed the car door. She waved to Owen as he turned the Jeep around, then crossed the parking lot to her car.
She pulled into the wide driveway at Ruby’s store and parked in the same place she’d parked a few nights ago. Ruby was on the front porch, so Cass waved as she got out of the car.
“You be dressed mighty fancy for a girl looking to clean up somebody’s graves,” Ruby observed as Cass came up the steps to the porch.
“I did all the grave cleaning I’m doing for one day, Miz Carter. I was hoping to find Lis here, but I don’t see her car.”
“She be up in her studio. Alec dropped her off on his way over to the point. He’s been promising to fix up the pier, and it looks like today be the day.”
“It does need fixing. We—Owen and I—were crabbing off the end of it, and it was pretty rickety.”
“Been like that for a time now. No one been around to fix things. Looks like that be changing.” Ruby’s eyes were on Cass. “Lots of changes be coming ’fore long.”
“Changes can be good.”
“Some be, yes. Just gotta be open to what comes next, make the most of it.” Ruby turned to go into the store and Cass followed. “You’ll find Lis in the room at the top of the steps. Take some water up, she been up there a long time and likely she be warm right ’bout now. Those front windows been closed a long time, never did open right. Take one for yourself, too.”
“Thanks, Miz Carter.” Cass stopped at the cooler in front of the worn wooden counter and grabbed two bottles of water, held them up for Ruby to see, and went directly to the stairwell, which seemed to grow out of one wall. She took the steps slowly, liking the view of the store from her elevated height: the floors scraped and scarred by two hundred years of islanders’ feet, the wooden shelves that held
the basics but little more, the old neon Coca-Cola sign over the door that still, defying all odds, remained lit. Something about the place drew her. The few times she’d been inside, she hadn’t had this overall view. It was a place out of time, and she wondered what would become of it once Ruby was gone.
Like Owen, Cass didn’t want to think about a time Ruby was no longer with them, because the earth might very well tilt off its axis when that day came. She continued up the steps to the second floor.
“Lis?” she called from the top landing.
“In here.”
Cass nudged open the door to the front room and found Lis standing in front of an easel where a large piece of thick white paper rested and on which she was tracing something Cass couldn’t quite make out. Paintings—framed and unframed—stood along one wall. The wooden floor was bare except for some newspapers under the easel, presumably to keep paint from dripping onto the floor, but were apparently an afterthought. Here and there, smears of paint in various colors smudged the floor so in places it took on the appearance of a rainbow.
“Oh, hey, Cass. How are you?” Lis glanced over her shoulder, then rested her brush onto the palette that sat atop a nearby table, also covered with newspapers. The table didn’t appear to have been protected any more than the floor had been. “What are you up to?”
Cass handed Lis one of the water bottles. “If I’m disturbing you, I can stop back. Or you can give me a call when you’re free.” Cass couldn’t take her eyes off the painting on the easel. As she drew closer, she could see the sketch on the paper was a portrait of Owen.
“I’m ready for a break and happy to have someone to chat with for a few minutes.” Lis opened the water bottle, took a long sip, and rested one side of the bottle against her chin. “It gets so hot up here sometimes. I need Owen or Alec to get the windows open. They’re the old-fashioned kind, with ropes inside to hold them up?”
Cass nodded. She’d seen those same windows in her grandparents’ old house outside Baltimore.
“And they stick, so they’re a bear to open, and someone has to hold them up while someone else—usually me—has to prop something in there to hold the window open. In the meantime, it gets hot in here.”
The Chesapeake Bride Page 18