Hometown Girl: The Chesapeake Diaries

by Mariah Stewart

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure she hadn’t found a new best friend to hang out with and—”

  “No. That’s the thing. Like I told you before, she didn’t hang around with anyone. None of the girls, none of the guys. She wasn’t dating anyone, didn’t go to any of the proms. Dropped off the field-hockey team. I mean, she just …” Clay shrugged as if he had no more words for whatever it was that Lucy had done.

  “It still bothers you,” Jesse said.

  “Nah. It was a long time ago.” Clay finished his coffee and stood. “I was just sayin’.”

  Jesse nodded as if he understood, and he did. Twenty years later, Clay was still bothered at having been dumped by a friend in high school—not a girlfriend, but his best friend. Jesse knew that sometimes friendship went deeper than high school lust, and apparently it had for Clay. Despite his denial, he was still bothered by the unexplained loss of a friendship that obviously had meant a great deal to him.

  “Well, I guess it’s time for me to go and get my daily dose of humility.” Clay pushed in his chair.

  Jesse looked at him quizzically.

  “My sister didn’t tell you what she did to my van?”

  “No,” Jesse replied.

  “It’s parked outside.” Clay gestured for Jesse to follow him. “You have to see it to believe it …”

  Jesse was still smiling about the pink van with the big hot-pink cupcake painted on the side when he arrived at his office. Liz wasn’t at her desk, so he left her muffin there for her. And because he’d decided that someone had to take the first step, he’d bought one for Violet as well. He saw her coat hanging on the freestanding brass rack in the reception area, but she wasn’t at her desk either. Jesse left the muffin in its bag and went into his own office, the door of which was already open.

  Curtis Enright sat at Jesse’s desk, in Jesse’s chair, which had been turned sideways. Violet sat in one of the visitors’ seats, a happy smile on her face. The smile visibly faded when she saw Jesse enter the room.

  “Good morning,” Jesse said. “Pop, this is an unexpected pleasure.” He extended his hand and his grandfather began to rise. “No, no, stay there. I can sit here next to Violet.”

  He patted Violet on the shoulder as he stepped around her to take the other visitors’ chair. Violet flinched imperceptibly, and Jesse smiled. He still wasn’t sure what her problem was, but he wasn’t about to acknowledge it to his grandfather, who apparently thought enough of the woman to keep her on the payroll.

  “I stopped at Cuppachino and got you a muffin,” he told her. “Carlo said you’re partial to the pumpkin walnut.”

  “Thank you.” She managed a smile.

  “You’re welcome.” Jesse turned to his grandfather. “If I’d known you were stopping in, I’d have brought something for you. As it is …” He placed the small white bag with the Cuppachino logo onto the desk. “I’m more than happy to share.” He met his grandfather’s eyes. “It’s blueberry pecan.”

  “No, thanks. I’m watching my …” Curtis paused as Jesse unwrapped the muffin. “Oh, hell, go get a knife.”

  “I’ll get it, Curtis.” Violet rose as if she’d been waiting for an opportunity to leave.

  “Thank you.” Curtis turned back to Jesse. “I heard you were one to come in early every day. Did the same thing, when I first started.”

  “I’ve always been an early riser. Makes sense to get a good start on the day.” Jesse leaned back in his chair and wondered what had brought his grandfather in this morning. Was he checking up on him? Or was he just bored with his newly sedentary life?

  “Exactly.” Curtis nodded his agreement.

  Violet appeared with a knife, two small plates, several napkins, and a cup of coffee, which she set down in front of her old boss.

  “Thank you, Violet. I don’t know how anyone functions without someone like you to run their office.” Curtis smiled. Violet turned as if about to take her seat again when he said, “I’d appreciate a few moments with my grandson, Violet.”

  “Oh.” She appeared startled, and almost insulted at having been asked, however gently, to leave. “Of course.”

  She closed the door softly as she left, her offended sensibilities trailing behind her.

  “Sure you don’t want your seat back?” Curtis asked.

  Jesse shook his head and said, “Keep it as long as you like.”

  “I ran into Steve Duffy this morning.” Curtis leaned forward on the desk, and for a moment, avoided making eye contact with Jesse, who figured out real fast where this was going and why his grandfather stopped in. “You know that this firm has been representing the Duffys for longer than I’ve been around.”

  “I believe Violet may have mentioned that.”

  “Then you probably know that after you turned down his son’s case, he called me. Actually, he called from his cell phone as he was walking out the door.” Curtis pushed back from the desk and stood, walked to the windows, and looked out. “Put me in a bit of a bind there, son. I would have appreciated a heads-up.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

  “Didn’t think he’d call me, or didn’t think I’d care?”

  “I figured that sooner or later he’d get around to complaining to you. But did he tell you—?”

  Curtis held up a hand to stop Jesse from saying anything further.

  “For the record: you should assume that every time you meet with someone who’d once been a client of mine, that person is going to call me. Whether that person is pleased or pissed off.” Curtis sat again, and this time, looked Jesse in the eye. “Mostly I’ve heard from people who have been happy with you. Steve Duffy was pissed off.”

  “I imagine he was.” Jesse stifled the urge to add “sir,” as if this were a military interrogation, which is what it felt like. He wasn’t used to having his judgment second-guessed.

  “I’d like to know why you turned down the request for legal counsel from an old client of ours, Jesse.” Before Jesse could open his mouth, Curtis added, “I should probably add that Steve’s father was a close friend of mine.”

  Jesse nodded slowly. “I wasn’t aware that before I turned down a case, I was supposed to clear it with you.”

  His grandfather merely gestured for Jesse to get on with it.

  “I wasn’t aware of all the circumstances when Steve first came in and asked if I’d help his son with some legal problems. What he’d told me was that his former daughter-in-law had made up some story about Kyle abusing her to extort more child support from him, that she’d threatened to call the police and have him arrested. When Kyle refused to increase the payments, the daughter-in-law, Amber, followed through and called the cops, who arrived at her house and arrested Kyle.”

  “And …”

  “And I said I’d look into it. Which I did.” Jesse got up and started to pace. He wasn’t going to be bullied into representing someone he didn’t want to argue for, and didn’t appreciate being asked to explain himself, but having reminded himself of his position with the firm, he proceeded to do exactly that. “I walked down to the police station and got a copy of the police report. I also spoke with Beck. These weren’t trumped-up charges. I saw the photos of that girl after Kyle Duffy had unloaded on her face. According to Beck, it wasn’t the first time Kyle had done that and it wasn’t the first time that she’d called 911. But it was the first time that Kyle wasn’t able to talk Amber into dropping the charges.”

  The expression on Curtis’s face was unreadable. He sat behind the desk, sipping his coffee but saying nothing.

  “There were two reasons why I didn’t want to take the case. One, because I have no respect for any man who has to solve his relationship problems with his fists, and two, because I felt that this firm stood for more than that.”

  Jesse leaned back against the windowsill and summed it all up by saying, “I didn’t want to go into court and argue a lie when I knew it was a lie.”

  Curtis drained his coffee cup a
nd pushed back from the desk. He barely paused as he patted Jesse on the shoulder.

  “I’d appreciate a heads-up next time.”

  “I understand,” Jesse replied.

  In the doorway, Curtis turned and looked back at his grandson. “Steve Duffy’s father was a saint of a man. I can’t say as much for his grandson. And for the record, I’d have done the same thing.”

  From across the hall, Jesse could hear Curtis speaking to Violet in the reception area.

  “I hope you drove today, Violet,” he was saying. “It’s no day for a stroll. That wind has some teeth to it.”

  Jesse couldn’t hear Violet’s response, though he was certain she’d had one. He stepped into the hallway as his grandfather was buttoning up his overcoat.

  “Thanks for stopping in,” Jesse told him. “It was good to see you.”

  “Good to see you, too, son. Let’s try to get together for dinner one night soon.”

  Jesse surprised them both by saying, “How ’bout Sunday?”

  “Sunday’ll be just fine, thank you.” Curtis reached for the knob on the front door but Jesse beat him to it. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

  In spite of the wind, Jesse stood in the doorway and watched his grandfather amble to his car, an old Cadillac Seville in mint condition that had been pampered and would have looked brand new if the style hadn’t changed so much.

  “Your grandmother always loved a Cadillac.” Violet had come up behind him quietly. “Never drove anything else. I think Curtis would dearly love one of those fancy German cars, but it would make him feel disloyal to Rose.”

  After the old Caddy was around the corner and out of sight, Jesse closed the door, and Violet started toward her desk.

  “Violet, I’d like your advice on something.”

  She turned to face him, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

  “My grandfather is going to be eighty-five in a few weeks,” he said.

  “I’m well aware of that,” she said archly.

  Ignoring her tone, he continued. “I’d like to have a surprise party for him, and I’d like to invite as many of his old friends and clients as are still around. I’d like your help in figuring out whom to invite.”

  She continued on to her desk and took her seat without comment. Finally, as he was beginning to think she was just going to flat-out ignore him, she said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m sure I can be of assistance.”

  “Great. Thank you, Violet. I appreciate it, and I’m sure my grandfather will appreciate it, too.”

  He went back into his office and made some phone calls, typed up a brief on his computer, and made dinner reservations at Café Lola for Sunday at six. A few hours later, there was a tap on his door, though it was open.

  “I’m calling that new sandwich shop to place an order. They deliver and they have excellent soups.” Violet took a deep breath and added, “Could I order something for you?”

  “Thank you, yes, that would be great. What would you recommend?”

  “The crab bisque is delicious.” Violet almost smiled. “The girl who makes it comes from a long line of watermen. The recipe she uses has been handed down in her family over the years.”

  “You’ve sold me. I’d love some.”

  “I’ll call them now.”

  “Thank you,” he said simply.

  “Of course,” she said as she went back across the hall.

  Jesse had felt the tension rise and fade into nothingness when he’d asked Violet for her help with Curtis’s birthday party. He wasn’t sure how long the truce would last, but he’d take it for as long as he could get it.

  Later in the afternoon, when Jesse had gone into the kitchen looking for coffee, she followed him in.

  “Let me do that,” she told him as he started to measure coffee into the paper filter. “I can always tell when you’ve made coffee because you make a mess every time.”

  “Guilty,” he’d acknowledged, and sat at the table to see where this conversation was headed.

  “I put Liz’s muffin in the refrigerator,” she said. “I think you forgot that she was off today.”

  “You’re right. I did.”

  Violet tended to the coffeemaker in silence for a few moments. After she poured in the water and set the machine to “brew,” she turned to him and said, “I have the list of friends and clients completed. I’ll print it out for you.”

  “Thanks, Violet. I really want this to be a great time for him. I want him to have everyone there he cares about.”

  “Will that include your father?” she asked.

  Jesse paused. “I don’t know how much he cares about my father.”

  “To tell you the truth, neither do I.” Violet took the chair opposite Jesse. “They always had a tumultuous relationship. Craig always seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, and no one could ever figure out why. The things that boy did when he was growing up …”

  “I don’t think I want to know.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you.” Violet got up, taking the sugar bowl with her to the counter. She opened a cabinet and proceeded to refill the bowl with packets of the artificial sweetener that Liz preferred and the sugar that she favored. “But how Curtis feels now …” She shook her head. “I don’t really know for certain.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I hadn’t planned on inviting him.”

  “You’d leave your father off the guest list?”

  Jesse shrugged. “It’s not my party.” He paused, then added, “I don’t know if I’d invite him to a party for me either.”

  “That brings me to the next quandary. Whether or not to invite the others.”

  “What others?”

  She took a deep breath. “You are aware that your father was married to someone else before he married your mother.”

  “He was married to Delia Enright, the novelist.”

  “Did you know that he had three children with her?”

  “I know he had them, but I never met them. Apparently the divorce was not a friendly one.” He smiled wanly. “Neither of my father’s divorces were all that friendly, to tell you the truth. I’m thinking the next one won’t be, either.”

  “Delia was a lovely woman. Your grandparents adored her. Craig’s split from her was the last straw as far as Rose and Curtis were concerned. They’d doted on their grandchildren, and were distraught when Delia cut them off completely.”

  “She did?” Jesse frowned. “I thought Pop just didn’t want to have anything to do with them.”

  “Rose confided in me once that she’d called on Delia in person and asked her to let her spend some time with the children, but she said that Delia told her that she didn’t think it would be a good idea since their father had rejected them.”

  “That’s the word she used, rejected?”

  “Her exact words. When Rose asked Delia what she meant, she told her to ask Craig, but when Rose pressed her son, he refused to talk about it.”

  “So all this time, there’s been no contact between Curtis and Delia’s children?”

  “Not as far as I’m aware.”

  Not that Jesse was especially surprised. Curtis hadn’t had much contact with Jesse or his sister since Jesse’s parents’ divorce. There’d been Christmas cards, but the birthday presents had stopped when his grandmother Rose passed away.

  “I was wondering if I should add them to the list,” Violet was saying.

  “You know their names? You know where they are?”

  Violet nodded. “Your half brother’s name is Nick. He’s a marine biologist in New Jersey. Your half sisters are Zoey and Georgia. Zoey is a host on one of those TV shopping channels, and at one time Georgia danced with the Baltimore Harbor Ballet Company. She’s retired now, lives on a farm over toward the western part of the state. They’re all married and have young families.”

  For reasons he might never understand, Jesse’s throat tightened. He had siblings—a brother and two sisters he’d never met—well, half
siblings. He repeated their names inside his head, and couldn’t wait to share them with Sophie.

  “I’ve long suspected that Curtis has regretted having cut himself off from them, particularly after Rose died and he started losing touch with you and your sister. He never said, but I think he’d like to establish something while there’s still time. I’m just not sure …” Her voice trailed away.

  “You’re not sure if we should be the ones to decide that for him.” Jesse pondered the situation. “It could be a wonderful reunion and he could be very happy. Or”—he met Violet’s eyes across the table—“it could go very badly and he’d be really angry.”

  “Exactly.”

  The coffeemaker beeped to signal it had completed brewing, and Violet rose and took two mugs from the cabinet. She filled them both and sat one in front of Jesse.

  “I suggest we both think long and hard before we send out those three invitations,” she told him.

  “Agreed.”

  Jesse got up to get the half-and-half from the refrigerator and handed the carton to Violet to use first. When she finished and returned it to him, she thanked him and left the room.

  But a moment later, she reappeared and stuck her head through the doorway.

  “By the way, I saw you dancing with our Halloween queen on Saturday. She’s a lovely girl, Jesse. It looked to me that she just might be crazy about you …”

  Chapter 12

  VIOLET backed up the file she’d named Curtis’s 85th, saved it, and turned off the computer. She wasn’t so very far from her own eighty-fifth, she reminded herself. Today she was feeling every bit her age.

  It had certainly been a day for surprises. It started when Curtis had shown up at seven forty-five that morning. In the old days, he’d always walked through the door at that same time, never earlier, never later. Rose used to say that Curtis had a clock in his head and it was set to do certain things at certain times. He definitely was a creature of habit, and he’d made one out of Violet as well. She’d unlocked the office door at seven thirty every morning for almost sixty years, went straight back to the kitchen, and got the coffee ready. Curtis always said knowing she’d have a perfect cup waiting for him when he arrived made up for the fact that Rose had never learned to brew a decent pot. Even now, on those days when she was scheduled to work, she still arrived at the same time.