Summer at Oyster Bay: A gorgeous feel good summer romance (9 page)

“Yep,” she said, her eyes still locked with his. Neither of them moved. Charlie was right. It seemed as if they were completely in tune. There was undeniable chemistry between them and it was all she could do to keep herself from leaning over and kissing him.

Rachel reached across the table, took the red cards, and slid the blue ones in between them while they were still looking at each other.

E
mily had offered
for Charlie to stay the night in one of the guest rooms. There were plenty of them. But he’d insisted on leaving his car and calling a cab—they’d all had too much wine to drive. Rachel and Jeff stayed, sleeping in the same room as Clara.

Gram had fallen asleep in the chair downstairs with a book in her lap—she’d never even made it up to bed. Before going up, Emily covered her with an afghan and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She’d had more fun tonight than she’d had in a long time, and she couldn’t get her mind off Charlie as she unfastened the earrings that Gram had offered to let her borrow for her dinner at Merroir. She went into her grandmother’s room to put them away and clicked on a lamp to cut through the darkness. She opened Gram’s jewelry chest, trying to swim out of her buzz.

Gram had always let her wear her jewelry. She’d said that someone needed to since she barely ever wore it, so whenever Emily was home, she’d ask to borrow a piece or two. Gram’s jewelry was just like Gram: simple but elegant.

Tonight, as Emily lifted the lid to the box, she saw a few new pieces. Gram must have consolidated everything into one box. Her eyes were heavy from the night as she picked up an emerald and diamond ring to admire its beauty. Then, she set it back down gently and pulled out a velvet box at the back that sparked her curiosity.

Emily turned on another nearby lamp and opened the box. Inside was a silver locket. She opened it to see if there were any photos inside, but confusion crawled around inside her when she saw there was only an inscription. On one side, it read, “Margaret, all my love forever,” and on the other, “Yours, Winston.” While this wasn’t anything unusual—people often get things from those who love them—what was unusual was the fact that Winston wasn’t her papa’s name.

She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks and it wasn’t from the wine. Gram had never spoken about anyone named Winston. Who was he? And why was he professing his love to Gram and giving her jewelry? Gram had always said she’d loved Papa her whole life—since she was a girl.

All of a sudden, Emily’s head began to throb. She didn’t want to think of anyone having feelings for Gram except Papa. She shut the case, and put it back, returned the earrings, and then closed the lid to the jewelry box. After turning off the lamps, Emily stood in the dark for a minute, still processing what she’d seen. Her head heavy, she went to her room and closed the door.

W
hen Emily awoke for work
, she could smell the rich aroma of fried bacon and eggs, and she could hear the clinking of dishes. She padded down the wooden stairs in her bare feet, the morning giving new light to last night. She was so relieved that Charlie hadn’t decided to stay. What had she been thinking, inviting him to sleep there? She shook the thought from her mind and headed into the kitchen. Rachel was showered, her wet hair like a black stripe down her back as she stood in last night’s clothes. Jeff was beside her, fixing a plate for breakfast. A basket of steaming rolls sat beside him on the counter. Clara was already at the table. She had the plastic princess cup that Emily had seen in the cabinet.

“Mornin’!” Gram said, puttering around. “Get yourself some breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Emily greeted the others and tried not to ponder the locket when she looked at Gram. She walked up beside Jeff and made herself a plate.

By the time they all sat down, Clara had already finished and was fidgety, so Rachel suggested she go outside and play. She’d made a house for her dolls last night on the screened porch, and she was eager to get back to it.

“It’s rare that I have us all at the same table these days, so I’m goin’ to jump right to what I want to say,” Gram said as she sat down. She’d made sure everyone had everything first, just like she always had.

Emily and the others gave Gram the quiet she needed to continue. Was Gram going to tell them that she was seeing someone new? Perhaps that was what the locket was all about…

“You have all moved on in your own lives and you have things pullin’ you in different directions…” She sat still for a moment, looking each one of them in the eye. Emily could hardly wait for what she had to say.

“As you may know, Charles would like to expand the inn on this land.”

He’d told her! That was what they’d been talking about in the kitchen!
“I know!” Emily piped up. “Don’t worry, Gram. We will do everything in our power to keep that from happening.”

Rachel set her fork down and put her hands in her lap, nodding, concern on her face, and Emily could feel that sister solidarity rise up.

“I’m not askin’ you to save it,” Gram said.

The table was completely silent except for the rush of cold air conditioning through the old vents.

“I’ve already sold it to him.”

What little Emily had eaten settled in her stomach like a cinderblock. “What?” she asked in nearly a whisper. “When?”

“I agreed to sell it just before I found out you were comin’ back. I knew you were already dealin’ with so much, and I didn’t want to bombard you with it. I know you love this house, but it’s too much for me to take care of…”

Gram’s voice faded as Emily retreated into her thoughts. Last night—the whole time—both Gram and Charlie had known that this land wasn’t Gram’s anymore. Charlie had allowed her to believe that she could change his mind. He’d said she couldn’t, but he’d certainly let her try. Her head started to pound and her hands were shaking. She was angry at both of them for not telling her sooner, but she was also angry with herself. She should’ve been there more for Gram over the last three years. If she had been, none of this would’ve happened. Gram wouldn’t have felt like she couldn’t take care of the house because Emily would’ve done it for her.

“How could you agree to sell this?” she asked, not waiting for any further explanation. “It’s the only memory we have left of Papa.” She could feel her eyes burn with the tears that were coming. She looked to Rachel and Jeff for support and it seemed as if they too were in shock, neither of them saying a word.

Gram had scooted back from the table just a bit and turned in Emily’s direction. “Papa left this behind because he had to. He couldn’t take it with him. Nor can we. Rachel’s never shown interest in it, and you were busy making a life in Richmond. And, I can’t take care of it.”

“I can! And I’m living here now!” A tear escaped and Gram handed Emily a napkin, her face consoling. “Rachel and I can keep it up for you. Where will you live if you aren’t here? This is your home—our home! Charlie’s gonna bulldoze it!”

Gram reached over and grabbed Emily’s hand. “Time can’t be stopped, dear. It keeps movin’ whether we like it or not. Remember how I said that life is for livin’. If we stay grounded in the past, we aren’t livin’. Time flies! Fly with it! If you don’t, it’ll just make you dizzy.”

“What about Eli?” she asked, a sob catching in her throat. “He’s an old horse. Where will I keep him? I’m not sure I can afford the rent for a paddock. If I can’t who will take him?”

“I’ve been lookin’ for a home for him—”

“This is his home!” She couldn’t help herself.

“Emily, dear, you don’t even ride him. He’s been alone out there for years. Wouldn’t you like him to be on a farm somewhere with other horses?”

“What if they don’t take to him?” The thought of her promise to Eli that she wouldn’t leave him again came to mind, causing her chest to pinch, tears flooding her eyes.

Emily took in a breath to try to ease the ache in her throat. She focused on the two pegs hanging on the wall. They were empty now, but they used to hold their backpacks after school. This house had seen Emily through her grief over her parents’ death and brought her through those difficult teenage years. If she lost this house, she felt like she might crumble to pieces.

“But memories are worth keeping too,” she said, her voice small.

“You don’t need this house to keep your memories for you.”

She looked down at her eggs, the yellow blurring in her tears, her head feeling woozy. “How long do we have?”

“A month.”

Emily tried to hide her tears by pressing her fingers against her burning eyes. She rubbed them until they hurt and then pushed her hands up her face into her hair, resting her forehead in the palms of her hands. She felt sick.

“And where are you moving?” Rachel asked. She’d been listening quietly, and, as Emily looked up at her, she noticed that Rachel didn’t seem half as wrecked about all this as she did.

“Florida.”

“What? Where in Florida?”

“Tampa.”

Emily couldn’t stay silent anymore. “That’s crazy, Gram—that would be at least a twelve-hour drive! We’d have to fly to see you! I don’t want you that far away from us,” she said, the stress of the situation making her eyes ache.

“Have you really thought this through, Gram?” Rachel asked.

“I have. I’d like to move where it’s warm year round. I really enjoy the summers here, but the winters are brutal. It’s hard on my arthritis. I’ve found a maintenance-free condo.”

There was something very unsettling about Gram living in a maintenance-free condo. It didn’t seem like her at all. She’d always been outside gardening, watering the plants, sweeping every surface available outside, clearing the path to the beach. Being away for so long had kept Emily from noticing Gram’s decline. She’d always imagined she’d look after Gram when the time came.

That was when it hit Emily: In a month’s time, she’d have to not only say goodbye to Papa’s memories and all his hard work, but she, too, would have to find somewhere else to live and she wouldn’t have Gram with her. She needed Gram. She’d feel lost, knowing she couldn’t just come see her any time. And she wanted to be there for Gram if she needed her as well.

Emily took a bite of her eggs, the taste souring in her mouth, her stomach filling with acid. She couldn’t eat any more so she got up, scraped her plate and set it in the sink. “I have to get ready for work,” she said, before leaving the room.

“
W
e can put
a trellis here if you’d like, and perhaps wind roses or some other type of flowers around it. We work with a florist who will be on call for any of your needs should you decide to move forward with us,” Emily said with a manufactured smile as she walked beside the bride-to-be, showing her the inn’s amenities. It was taking all her energy to not think about the conversation at the breakfast table this morning.

“Could we move these tables and set up white chairs?” she asked nervously.

“Absolutely.”

“What if it rains?”

“Let me show you the ballroom we can convert. We have an entire staff on hand who will have it moved in minutes. Your guests would be none the wiser.”

“I’m sorry I’m asking so many questions,” the woman said. It was true, she’d asked about a hundred and they hadn’t even chosen reception colors yet. “It’s just that getting married is such a big step. I want everything to be right.”

“I understand.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

She could see the woman’s features slip just slightly and Emily wondered if she was thinking, “How could she know? She’s never been married.”

“I’m a planner too,” Emily said in an attempt to put her mind at ease. “I know what perfection looks like, and we’ll meet, if not exceed, your needs on your special day. Nothing will go wrong. If it does, we’ll be right there to make it perfect for you, and we’ll do our best to make the change even better than the original plan. We’ve got a very experienced staff; we keep a low number of functions going on at one time. We will be available for your every request. Now,” she said with her face as animated as possible, “let’s talk flowers!”

As they walked back into the inn, Charlie stepped up beside them. He was wearing a blue suit with a pink tie, and a white highly starched shirt. When he reached out to allow them to enter through the doorway first, Emily noticed his initials embroidered on his cuff. He looked so much more intimidating than he had dancing on her porch last night. When he smiled at her, she had to use all her energy to return a pleasant look, worried the woman with her would see through it and know how upset she was to see him. She swallowed to keep her thoughts from surfacing.

“How are we today?” he said in a businesslike manner.

“Miss Simpson,” Emily said to the woman, “this is Charles Peterson, the owner of the inn.”

“Oh!” she said, looking up at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I hear you’re considering having your wedding with us. I hope Miss Tate is meeting your needs.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Excellent.” He turned to Emily, and she could see a change in his eyes. They were friendly but inquisitive as if he could sense her emotions. “Miss Tate, when you and Miss Simpson have finished—and please take all the time you need—I’d like to have a quick chat. I’ll be in the Concord Suite.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “Enjoy your planning, Miss Simpson.”

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“
H
i
,” Charlie said, his face welcoming and happy as he opened the door and allowed Emily to enter, but when she didn’t return the sentiment, he studied her guardedly.

“Hello,” she said, trying to keep the atmosphere businesslike, but it was more difficult after last night and then this morning—her emotions were all over the place. She walked into the sitting area and sat down in the wingback chair, the sun streaming in around it.

“How are you?” he asked, sitting down in the other chair. He was still dressed up.

“How did you get your car from our house?” she asked, ignoring his question purposely. “I didn’t hear you this morning.” She knew if he really heard how she was, he might get an earful and she was trying to work. She had three more clients coming in today and she didn’t want to be a blubbering mess, nor did she want them to hear the shouting that she would be doing at the inn’s owner.

“I had two guys from housekeeping pick it up for me. Libby vouched for them.”

“Oh.” When she woke up this morning, she’d been hoping he’d pick it up himself but that would’ve made for an interesting breakfast. He’d better be glad he hadn’t been there. She shifted in her chair. “How has your morning gone?” she asked to keep herself together.

“Excellent. I met with the board of supervisors today. I’ve convinced a few of them to listen to my plans for expansion.”

She clamped her jaw shut, her breathing speeding up as he watched her. Was he baiting her?

“I’m wondering…” He sat rigidly in his chair, his stance cautious. “By looking at your face… You’ve talked to your grandmother about—”

“Yes,” she said, standing up. “Why in the world didn’t you tell me you already own our land? You’ve known the entire time! How could you not tell me?” She was yelling, but she didn’t care.

He rose from his chair protectively but she pushed herself past him and walked over to the large window. A tear slipped down her cheek.

“It wasn’t my place to break that news to you,” he said from behind her. “I tried to convince your grandmother to tell you last night! I was pleading with her in the kitchen. I felt awful, but I wanted to allow your grandmother to explain it. What can I do, Emily, to make this whole thing better for you? Is there anything? Do you want me to see if I can have your grandfather’s house moved to another lot?”

She stood quietly, trying to organize her thoughts into something that would explain her feelings on the matter. She turned around and tried to keep her voice as even as possible. “The path through the woods leading to the pier—you can’t move that. You can’t move the spot where my dog is buried. You can’t take the tree that holds my childhood swings to a new lot. It’s not just the house; it’s all of it.”

He nodded, looking down at his shiny leather shoes in thought.

For a tiny instant she felt bad for him. It wasn’t his fault. Gram had sold him that land before he had any knowledge of how she felt, but the fact of the matter was that he was going to destroy it all, and she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but anger about that. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore or she’d end up sobbing right there in front of him.

“I can’t talk now,” she said, turning away.

She walked to the door, and she felt the brush of Charlie’s hand as he tried gently to stop her, but he let her go.

“
C
harlie’s comin’ over
,” Gram said as Emily walked into the sitting room after work. Gram was reading a book.