Home for the Summer (18 page)

“And I still flip out every time I look at them,” Brooke noted. “They are so unique and so beautifully painted.”

“Any idea where they came from, Jesse?” Lucy continued to walk around the tree.

“My grandmother had a great-aunt who never married. Pop said she painted some for my grandparents the first year they were married, but my grandmother loved them so much that her aunt painted several more every year until she died.” Jesse stood in front of the tree, his hands in his pockets. “If you look closely, you’ll see that every angel has something in common.”

“Wings?” Clay couldn’t resist.

“Something a little more personal to my grandmother,” Jesse told him.

After studying the tree for a moment or two, Lucy observed, “All the angels are holding roses.”

Jesse nodded. “My grandmother’s name was Rose.”

“So very cool.” Lucy took one last walk around the tree. “I love that you brought them down and put them on a tree of their own. It’s a nice way to honor your grandmother. I’m sure Mr. Enright appreciated that you did this. I’m sure it reminded him of his wife.”

“He doesn’t need any reminders,” Jesse replied, “since he believes she’s still here.”

“Oh, not you, too.” Lucy glanced from Jesse to Brooke and back again. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Jesse’s granddad says that every once in a while he smells gardenia, which was the only fragrance she ever wore. And when that scent is there, so is she.” Brooke removed a few spent roses from a vase and replaced them with a stem of amaryllis. She turned and added, “I’ve been aware of it myself.”

“Lucy isn’t a believer, are you, Luce?” Clay sat on the arm of a nearby chair.

“No, I’m not. And I do find it odd that so many homes in St. Dennis claim to have unseen residents,” she said.

“Oh?” Brooke slipped the fresh ferns into the vase amid the flowers. “Who else?”

“Well, Vanessa, for one.” Lucy turned to Brooke. “You came in last night after the discussion about—”

“Alice Ridgeway.” Brooke smiled. “Everyone knows about her. I thought you meant there was someone else.”

Lucy looked at Clay first, then at Jesse. “Do either of you buy into this stuff?”

“It’s hard to know what to think, when you’ve experienced the phenomena,” Jesse admitted. “I’ve been here, in the house with my grandfather, when a very strong, unmistakable scent of gardenia came out of nowhere. Where or what or how … I can’t say.”

“What does your grandfather say?” Lucy asked. “As I recall, from what I knew of him, he was pretty much a matter-of-fact kind of guy.”

“He still is, about most things. But he believes that his wife is still here—I’ve heard him talking to her several times, as if he’s carrying on a conversation.” Jesse shrugged. “Who am I to say she isn’t here, in some form, at least to him? Which of course, doesn’t explain the fact that Brooke and I have both caught the scent. And last year, when my siblings were all here, one of my sisters smelled it as well, and my cousin Elizabeth says she’s often smelled gardenias when she’s been here. And before you ask, there are no gardenias in the conservatory.”

“How about you?” Lucy addressed Clay. “Do you believe in such things?”

“I don’t
not
believe,” he told her. “I know too many people who I know to be intelligent and otherwise stable who have had some sort of experience that they can’t explain.”

“I suppose in a town as old as St. Dennis, with houses as old as we have here, it’s inevitable that there’s going to be some sort of rumors going around,” Lucy conceded. “Sort of a mass hysteria thing, without, of course, anyone actually being hysterical.”

“Don’t you have any spirits hanging around the inn, Lucy?” Brooke asked.

“I certainly hope not.” To Clay, Lucy’s laugh appeared slightly uncomfortable.

“All spirits aren’t evil or scary,” Brooke told her. “Rose is a very sweet and gentle presence. Vanessa says that Alice’s spirit feels protective.” She shrugged. “Who’s to say what can linger, that a person or even an event can leave behind certain emotions, feelings …?”

“I just don’t believe in anything like that. Sorry.” Lucy brushed her off casually, but Clay thought a look of uncertainty had flickered across her face. “Gone, done … is gone and done, and it’s best to leave it that way.”

“Whatever.” Brooke smiled. “You ought to talk to your mom, though. She’s been known to—”

“I don’t believe any of that either. I’m sure she’s just been playing along with everyone,” Lucy insisted.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Brooke rolled up the discarded stems and lifted the bundle. “Ready to move on? We still have the study, the dining room, the sitting room, the conservatory. Oh, if you like orchids, wait till you see the orchids! They were big favorites of Rose’s, too …”

“Yes, please. I love orchids and I want to see every inch of this place.” Lucy’s smile returned, but Clay wasn’t sure if a little bit of unrest remained behind that smile.

It seemed to Clay that they had, in fact, seen every inch of the Enright mansion before they left. From the first floor to the third, from the fancy parlor and Curtis Enright’s library to the former maids’ rooms in the attic, they’d gone up and down the two stairways and poked into the bedrooms, all of which had been turned out for the holiday.

“I’ve never seen such decorations,” Lucy told Brooke after they’d made their way back down to the first floor. “I don’t know anyone who has your touch. What you’ve done here with greens and berries alone is breathtaking. Then add in all those antique tree ornaments and the effect is just one big wow. If you ever think about moving to the West Coast, you could come to work for me that very day. I could use someone with your sense of style.”

“Thanks, Lucy. I’ve seen your work, so coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” Brooke beamed. “But I won’t be leaving St. Dennis again. I know where I belong.”

Brooke looped her arm through Jesse’s and smiled up at him.

“But if you ever need a helping hand when you’re here, give me a call,” she added. “I’m pretty busy most of the time, but maybe I could fill in for a few hours.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I might need extra hands for the Magellan wedding,” Lucy told her.

“I’d love to work with you. The inn has the most amazing possibilities, and when you think of what you could create, well, the mind boggles.”

“Magellan’s wedding will be outside, tented, and all I can say right now is that it will involve truckloads of flowers. I was hoping to meet with Olivia while I was here, but we haven’t signed the contract yet and I don’t want to get her hopes up. It will be a massive job. I just hope her wholesaler can get everything we’ll need.” Lucy placed her bag on a side table while she put on her coat. “And I’ll have to find a really good landscape designer. We’ll need to move the gazebo and have some roses planted around it.”

“I can recommend my former brother-in-law, Jason Bowers. He sold his previous business and is thinking about starting up again here. You might want to give him a call when you’re ready.”

“He’s in St. Dennis now?”

Brooke nodded. “He’s renting one of Hal Garrity’s cottages down near the river while he’s deciding what to do. Of course, we’re hoping he sticks around for a while, if for no other reason than for my son Logan’s sake.” Brooke explained, “Jason is my late husband’s only living immediate family, and he and Logan have gotten pretty tight. I never knew Eric as a boy, so there’s so much that Jason can tell my son about his dad that no one else can.”

“If we lock up the Magellan wedding, maybe I’ll give him a call, see what he can do with the property,” Lucy said. “Maybe give him a reason to stick around for a while longer.” She glanced at Jesse. “It looks as if you’re okay with that.”

“I don’t have a problem with Jason. He’s a good guy.” Jesse shrugged. “Besides, if it’s good for Logan, it’s good.”

“Thanks again for letting us invade your family home,” Clay said. “We both really appreciate it.”

“I live to serve my brother’s whims,” Brooke told them as they walked to the front door.

“Does that include chocolate ganache cupcakes today?” Clay asked.

“Ah, no.” Brooke smiled and opened the front door. “But nice try.”

“So much for my whims.” Clay took Lucy’s hand. “Guess I’ll see you at home later.”

“Only if you want to help me pack.” Brooke waved good-bye to Lucy. “Don’t forget to call me if you need any help with the wedding.”

“I’ve already made a mental note,” Lucy assured her.

“That was so fun,” Lucy told him when they were both in the car and headed toward Charles Street. “That house is just amazing. I still feel starry-eyed. It’s so hard to believe that one person lives there alone.”

“My mom said a lot of people thought Curtis would have sold the place by now and moved to something smaller, but it’s unlikely he’ll ever do that now.”

“Especially if he believes his wife is still there,” Lucy noted. “I wonder what will happen to the place when he’s gone.”

“That’s apparently been the topic of much speculation. Jesse said Curtis is considering leaving it to the town to serve as a museum, but I don’t know if that’s gone beyond the talking stage as yet.”

“It would make the most glorious event site.” Lucy sighed. “I can see weddings in the garden, or in tents outside on that beautiful expanse of lawn, or in that magnificent hall and parlor. And that dining room—gorgeous. A lot of towns have historic homes that they rent out for events. It’s a great moneymaker, pays the taxes on the place, draws people to the area—”

“Um, isn’t that what your brother is doing at the inn?” Clay grinned. “I doubt he’d appreciate you encouraging anyone to go into direct competition with him.”

“It would be competition, but only in the sense that it would be another event location. I think couples who want the inn want the relaxed ambience, that classic Chesapeake Bay experience. Couples who want something much fancier and more lavish would be more attracted to the Enright place.”

“Of course, if that were to happen, St. Dennis would need a world-class event planner right here in town full-time.”

Lucy leaned back in her seat and smiled. “And if that day ever came, I’m sure I could help find someone.”

He made a left onto Charles Street, then a right onto Kelly’s Point Road.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“There’s no way you can leave St. Dennis without a visit to Scoop and some of Steffie’s amazing ice cream,” he said solemnly. “It would be wrong.”

“It would be wrong,” she readily agreed, “except that I did have some at Vanessa’s the other night. But we can stop if you’re in the mood for ice cream.”

Clay drove past the municipal building and headed to the far end of the lot across the road. He parked in the section nearest the ice-cream shop and turned off the engine.

“I wonder if she has any of that peppermint divinity fudge ice cream that she brought to Vanessa’s.” Lucy got out of the car and slammed the door. “That was amazing.”

Clay slammed the driver’s-side door and offered his arm to Lucy. “You don’t sound like someone who’s only stopping in to keep me company.”

“Well, as long as we’re here, I wouldn’t want Stef to think I didn’t like her ice cream.”

The sign out front—
ONE SCOOP OR TWO
—blew slightly in the wind that was kicking up from the Bay.

“It feels like snow again,” Lucy observed, “but we’ve only had that one little bit since I’ve been home.”

“Were you hoping for more?” he asked as he opened the shop’s door.

“Not particularly. I don’t really like the cold.” Lucy waved a greeting to Steffie, who was behind the counter filling one of the containers in her freezer case.

“Hey, Lucy,” Steffie called to her. “How was your tour?”

“It was fabulous. I’ve been in a lot of really spectacular places since going into business, but that place is unlike any other I’ve ever seen.” Lucy took off her coat and placed it on the back of a chair. “There’s something so special about it. It’s gloriously elegant, and there’s all that history, and at the same time, the atmosphere is so warm and inviting. I loved it.”

“That’s exactly what everyone said after the house tour. That the place is gorgeous, like right out of a magazine, but that you feel at home there.” Stef came around the side of the counter.

“That’s it exactly,” Lucy agreed. “I was telling Clay that it would make the most wonderful event site.”

“Oh, my God, could you imagine the weddings they could have there?”

“Exactly.”

“So what flavors do we have today?” Clay wandered to the display case.

“We have the standards—vanilla, seven variations of chocolate, pineapple-coconut macadamia nut … what are you in the mood for, Clay?”

“I know what I want,” Lucy told her. “If you have any of that—”

“Peppermint divinity fudge?” Steffie shook her head. “Alas, I ran out of white chocolate. But I do have a chocolate chili that I just made this morning.”

“Chocolate chili?” Clay repeated, one eyebrow raised.

“Just enough of a chili pepper kick to be a manly flavor,” Stef deadpanned. “At least, that’s how my husband described it.”

“Manly or not, I’d like to try it,” Lucy said.

Steffie dipped a small plastic spoon into the container and handed it to Lucy.

“Wow. It leaves just a hint of heat in the back of your throat.” Lucy nodded. “I’ll have one scoop in a dish.”

“Clay?” Steffie held up an empty spoon. “Sample?”

“I’ll take Lucy’s word for it. Make mine two scoops, also in a bowl,” he told her.

Clay took off his jacket and put it on the chair over Lucy’s. He’d thought they’d just pick up cones and walk along the Bay, but Lucy apparently had other ideas. Which was perfectly fine with him. If they were outside walking, sooner or later, she’d get cold and they’d leave. Scoop was nice and warm, cozy and inviting, and he’d have that much more time to spend with her.

He walked back to the counter, paid Stef for the ice cream, then carried both bowls to the table Lucy had selected by the window.

“One scoop,” he said as he passed her dish and spoon to her.

“Thanks.” She smiled up at him when he sat next to her.

Her smile always took him back to a time when they were both younger and had shared all their secrets. Those days were obviously gone, he reminded himself. These days, there was almost as much mystery as there was familiarity about her.