At the River’s Edge The Chesapeake Diaries (7 page)

“For the most part, yes. Why?” Jesse opened the back driver’s-side door and Sophie slid in while Brooke got into the front passenger seat. “Didn’t he seem okay today?”

“He just seemed very philosophical about life and death and … I don’t know. It was just a few comments he made, like looking forward to being with Gramma Rose again.”

“He talks like that all the time. You know he thinks she’s still there, in the house, right?” Jesse got behind the wheel and started the engine.

“What do
you
think? About Gramma Rose, I mean. There were times today when I could almost smell the flowers. I’m sure it was just the power of suggestion,” she hastened to add, “but still …”

“You mean the gardenias?” Jesse nodded as he pulled away from the curb. “I smell them all the time when I’m there. I’ve stopped wondering why or how when there are no flowers in the house. It’s just always there.”

“I’ve smelled it, too,” Brooke turned in her seat to face Sophie. “Even before I knew that your grandfather thinks his wife is still around, I smelled gardenias in that house. So who’s to say? And does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

“Did Pop show you the plans he has for the back of the property?” Jesse asked.

“You mean the historic garden re-creation and the rose garden and the carriage house? Yes, he showed me. Impressive.” Sophie shifted in her seat. “He was very proud of his ‘project,’ as he called it. I just hope this landscaper knows what he’s doing. I’m sure it’s costing a fortune. I’d hate to see Pop scammed.”

“Oh, I can vouch for the landscaper,” Brooke told her. “It’s Jason.”

“Jason’s a landscaper?” Sophie frowned. Had she known that and forgotten? “He does historic garden restorations?”

“Back in Florida, his company specialized in them. Gardens that were popular in Florida in 1880 probably didn’t look like the ones here back then, climates and architectural styles being different and all that, but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. I’ve seen the sketches and I was really impressed. It’s going to be gorgeous. I wish it could be done in time for the wedding. It would be a perfect spot for a garden reception, but it wouldn’t be possible.”

“You’re having the reception at Sinclair’s inn, right?”

Brooke nodded. “Jason designed the gardens there as well.”

“That’s how Pop came to hire Jason to work on his gardens. He saw the work Jace did there and was impressed. He’s been really happy with the progress they’re making at the house, and that’s what matters.” Jesse pulled up in front of their grandfather’s stately home and got out of the car. “Pop’s been
talking about this project for as long as I’ve been in St. Dennis, and if it gives him pleasure—gives him something to focus on and look forward to—I say more power to him.”

The front door of the big house opened and Curtis Enright appeared on the top step, carrying an overcoat.

“You’re seven minutes late,” he called to Jesse. “I’m an old man. I don’t have time to waste sitting around waiting on other people …”

“Don’t try to pull that ‘old man’ stuff on me,” Jesse called back. “You’re going to outlive us all.”

Jesse leaned back into the car, smiling in spite of the scolding he was receiving. “Pop’s in fine spirits, so buckle up,” he told his sister. “This could be a long night …”

Another Saturday night, another bowl of popcorn, another hour and fifty-four minutes of watching
The Goonies
followed by
Toy Story
.

Jason leaned back on the sofa, his long legs stretched out between the two sleeping bags where Logan and his buddy Cody were camped out on his living room floor.

“I wish we could find a treasure map like the kids in the movie did,” Logan said while he loaded the DVD.

“Me, too.” Cody sat up. “Or maybe we could find one of those underground tunnels. I’ll bet there are lots of them around here. St. Dennis is really
old
.”

“Yeah.” Logan said, his voice rushed with sudden excitement. “There used to be pirates that came here. Everybody knows that. Maybe we could find their ship in one of those tunnels …”

“First we have to find the tunnels,” Cody reminded him. “I wouldn’t want to find one that had all those bats in it, though.”

“First you have to find the treasure map,” Jason told them both.

“Oh. Yeah.” Cody sank back down into his sleeping bag as the video began.

They watched for few minutes before Cody asked, “Who would you be in the movie? I want to be Mikey.”

“I want to be Luke Skywalker,” Logan replied without hesitation.

“Luke Skywalker isn’t in
The Goonies
,” Cody told him. “He’s in
Star Wars
.”

“I know, but if I have to be a movie person, that’s who I’m going to be.” Logan turned around and tapped Jason on the knee. “Who would you be?”

“Chewbacca,” Jason replied, and the two boys dissolved into laughter.

“Fleur should be Chewbacca.” Cody picked up his little dog, Fleur, and held her up to Jason. “She’s furry enough to be a wookie.”

Fleur jumped from Cody’s arms to the sofa and curled up next to Jason as if appalled by the very thought of being anything but a bichon frise.

“I think Fleur likes being a dog,” Jason told them.

“Shhhh,” Logan commanded. “I like this part …”

The boys fell under the movie’s spell and Jason watched for a few minutes before leaning his head back against the sofa. Usually he tried to keep awake when the boys were watching movies, but the week’s activities were beginning to catch up with him tonight and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He’d been up by four thirty every morning and hadn’t
gotten to bed before one
A.M
. even once. There’d been sketches to be made, plants to be ordered, and résumés for prospective new hires to review, not to mention the physical labor he still did in addition to running the business. Between work and his Saturdays with his nephew, he had precious little time for a social life, but for now, that was okay. He’d always been a hard worker, but having to establish a new business in a new town made him even more conscious of doing what he had to do to be a success.

He thought back to those early days in Florida, after the car crash that took his parents’ lives and shattered his and his brother’s. He rubbed his left leg above the knee, where the pins that had been inserted to hold his leg together seemed to burn every time he remembered that night and that time. After the dust settled and Jason had recovered from his injuries, Eric figured out that the only way they could keep a roof over their heads and food on the table was to find some sort of work that they, as fifteen- and eighteen-year-olds, could do. While their maternal grandmother had been granted official custody of Jason until he turned eighteen, her love of gambling often won out over her love for her grandsons. For the most part, she was content to let Eric raise his younger brother. Those times when the boys found they needed something that resembled parental guidance, their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Hilton, was always more than happy to step in when Grandma was out of state visiting the casinos. Mrs. Hilton might have clucked her tongue at their guardian’s behavior, but she’d never dreamed of alerting child services. She knew how important it was for the boys to stay together,
especially after the terrible accident that had changed their world forever.

Seeing Logan and Cody curled up on the floor, laughing and giggling at the movie, shouting out the familiar dialogue at the appropriate times, reminded Jason of nights long ago when he was about Logan’s age. He and Eric would pull the blankets off their beds and drag them into the small living room, make nests for themselves, then slip a video into the VCR. They’d pop corn and set the bowl between them, and settle into the latest movie they’d picked up at the Blockbuster two blocks away. Favorites would be played over and over again, until they knew all the dialogue by heart.

Jason could still recite lines from
Ghostbusters
at the drop of a hat.

The boys’ shrieks of terror brought him back to the present and the film on his TV. The shrieks turned to laughter, then total silliness. Eight-year-old boys were eight-year-old boys, no matter the era. In that, Jason took comfort, even as the pain of missing his brother once again washed through him. He’d never stop missing Eric—Jason knew that, but sometimes the renewed awareness of his death came suddenly, and overwhelmed him. No matter how much time had passed, the reality of it could smack him in the chest, just as it had when it was still new. The loss had never grown old, and he doubted it ever would.

Jason knew he was lucky to have reconnected with Eric’s son, lucky to be given the gift of being part of Logan’s life. It wasn’t the same as having his brother back, but Jason’s ties to the boy were strong, and growing stronger, and he was grateful for that.

Jason opened his eyes and looked down on the boy, who was totally immersed in the drama playing out on the screen. Logan had inherited Eric’s smile and his laugh, his sense of logic, his habit of rubbing one foot against the other when he was tired—like now, Jason noted—and Eric’s way of tilting his head just slightly to one side when he was about to question your facts, your opinion, or your authority. It amazed him, when he thought about it, that little things like that could be passed on from father to son. Because of Eric’s deployments, he’d spent precious little time with his toddler son, who had been far too young to have observed his father’s behavior closely enough to memorize and imitate it. And yet there was Eric’s smile, his laugh, the subtle habits that only someone who had known Eric well over a long period of time could have recognized.

“That girl looks like my stepsister.” Cody pointed to the screen. “Paige, I mean. My mom says that Paige is just my sister now since my mom married her dad.”

“I’m going to have a stepfather,” Logan said softly. “When my mom marries Jesse, he’s going to be my stepfather.”

“I have a stepfather,” Cody reminded him. “ ’Cause my mom married Grant.”

“My real father’s dead.” Logan’s voice was soft.

“My real father’s a jerk,” Cody countered. “He did bad things with ladies who were not my mom and made a video that lots of people saw.” He hunkered down a little more into his pillow. “Kids from my old school saw it.”

“If it was a bad video, why were kids allowed to watch it?” Logan asked.

Good question
, Jason thought.
Eric’s logic again …

“Maybe not the kids, but their moms and dads saw it and talked about it. That’s why we came to St. Dennis. My mom wanted to get away ’cause everyone was talking about it on the TV.”

“That’s ’cause your mom is famous and everyone knows her,” Logan pointed out. It seemed that everyone knew that Cody’s mother was Dallas MacGregor, a very famous movie star.

“Everyone here knows her, too, but no one’s mean about it.”

“Shhh, here’s my favorite part.” Logan effectively ended the conversation.

The popcorn bowl was empty, and Cody’s dog was at the back door waiting to go out, so Jason picked up Fleur’s leash and set the bowl on the kitchen counter. He stepped out into the cool air and wished he’d had the sense to grab a jacket. His southern sensibilities had yet to acclimate themselves to the northern winter. He followed the dog down the darkened street, pausing when she did. The scent of the Bay carried on the night wind, and he wondered how different the evening might have been if he’d joined the Enright crew at dinner. He hadn’t known Sophie was in town, and her appearance at the basketball court that afternoon had taken him slightly off guard. He’d always sensed something special about her, beyond her pretty face and trim body, had always hoped that someday he’d have a chance to get to know her a little better. Maybe this time the opportunity would present itself, he thought as he turned from a gust of wind. And if not, he’d just have to make sure that it did.

Chapter 6

S
OPHIE
stared out Jesse’s kitchen window onto the fenced-in yard while she waited for her first cup of morning coffee to finish brewing in her brother’s ancient coffeemaker. She wished he had one like the one that sat on her own kitchen counter, the one that brewed one fresh cup at a time. Hearing Jesse’s machine gurgle and burp painfully, what to give him and Brooke for a wedding gift was no longer a question. Even the coffeemaker they had in the DA’s office was better than this one.