Teacup Novellas 02 - Strike the Match (16 page)

“Stop, Matt. Just stop it,” his mother begged.

“Yeah, Mom, like that’s gonna happen. You guys crack me up. You come in here like you’re going to rescue the damsel in distress and save the day. Please. Don’t make me laugh.”

But there was no laughter in his voice. Keri could feel him shaking and knew it wasn’t from fear. The anger in his voice was unmistakable.

“We know you burned the house down, Matt,” his father continued, a barely-contained rage edging his voice. “The sheriff told us everything, including your attempt to blow up the newspaper office. You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. Don’t add more to it. Just let her go.”

Matt kept pulling as he and Keri moved closer and closer to the kitchen. “Sam’s death wasn’t my fault. He jumped off that bridge. I didn’t push him. But you never believed me. He was your ‘sweet Sam’, the good twin. He could do no wrong, and I could do no right. Same as it’s always been.”

“We never said that!” his mother cried.

“You didn’t HAVE to! I got the message loud and clear. But never more obvious when Sam died and you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it might have been his fault. Oh no, it had to be MY fault.

“Well, to hell with the both of you. The good son is gone. All you’ve got left is ME. And just because my face is identical to his, you couldn’t stand to be around me. Couldn’t stand to even look at your only remaining child. How do you think that made me feel? Huh?

“You ABANDONED me!” he bellowed. Keri heard the emotion overtaking his accusation. “You kicked me out like I was nothing more than a mangy, flea-bitten dog! You closed out my trust fund, made sure I had no way to live and then wiped me from your memory. All because you blamed me for Sam’s death, but IT WASN’T MY FAULT!” He paused, a groan rushing from somewhere inside him. “I
loved
Sam
. He was
my brother
!”

Keri closed her eyes, praying for an escape. He was out of control, his fury bleeding through every word.” He stopped again, panting hard.

“Well, fine. Just fine. I don’t need you. I don’t need either one of you.” He started moving faster, backing toward the swinging doors into the kitchen. “And who cares about your stupid house? Serves you right. You can go live in a cave for all I—”

WHACK!

The sound reverberated through the café as Matt collapsed in a heap on the ground. Grant stood in the kitchen door, the oversized cast iron skillet still clutched in his raised hands. He locked eyes with Keri, her face still frozen with shock, then dropped the skillet as he stepped over Matt’s body and wrapped her in his arms.

“Grant!” she cried as tears of relief streamed down her face.

He held her so tight, she thought he would suffocate her. “You’re okay! You’re okay. Oh thank God. Keri, I was so afraid he was going to—”

She wept against his shoulder, shuddering in his embrace.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now, Keri. I’m here.

She said nothing as she clung to him, her face still buried.

“I’m right here. I’ll
always
be here for you.”

Chapter 14

One week later

“I have an idea.”

“Well good morning to you too,” Grant teased as Keri entered his office. “And congratulations, Miss McMillan. The whole town is buzzing about your cover story.”

Keri grabbed the paper off his desk. Her face lit up as she scanned her story and saw her byline beneath the title. “Wow! This is even cooler than I’d imagined.” She looked up at him, her face glowing.

He laughed, going to her side. “I should hope so. It’s the biggest story this town has seen in decades, and it’s all yours.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “And I couldn’t be more proud.” He planted a kiss on her head.

“I still can’t believe it. How it all happened. How it all just fell into my lap like this.”

He took her hand, leading her back toward the makeshift kitchen. “Don’t be so modest. You worked hard on the case, you helped crack it, and that front page is just icing on the cake.”

He poured her a mug of fresh coffee then one for himself. The kitchen had suffered damage, but the construction crew was able to salvage most of the cabinets and countertop. The press was another story. Fortunately, a Portland print shop helped them get the paper out on time, putting a rush on the job. Grant was already thinking in terms of replacing the outdated press and moving the
Waterford Weekly
into the 21st century.

“Wait, what idea? You said you had an idea?”

Keri finished sipping the hot brew as they leaned against the newly refurbished countertops. “I have a great idea. Shep is supposed to get released tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. It’s about time. They kept him a lot longer than they originally planned. That ticker of his needed some testing. Thank God he’s gonna be okay.”

“I know. Same for Dad. Although I wish they’d kept
him
longer. Why do hospitals boot the surgery patients a couple days after they cut them open, but keep old guys for days on end running countless tests? We should do a story on that. Investigate the practice of—”

“Okay, fine. We’ll do that. Back to the question. What’s this idea of yours?”

“Oh, right. I was thinking we should decorate his boat. As a welcome home gift for him.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, sure! Think about it, Grant. Your dad has been such a loner all these years. Then he finally works up the courage to come to town and lo and behold, if he doesn’t get a bad case of the schoolboy crush on my Aunt Nita.”

“I’ll admit, they’re pretty cute together. Though I’m still in shock over it.” He threw his head back laughing. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Keri smiled. “Exactly. So it’s really more than just a homecoming. It’s more like—I don’t know, like a new beginning for him. A new chapter in his life. And Nita too. I’ve never seen her so radiant and so devoted. Well, not since Uncle Rafe died. And I’m so happy for her. For both of them. So what do you say?”

“Define ‘decorate’ . . .”

The sun was just setting as they drove the final mile from the hospital to Shep’s boat. Keri sat shotgun up front with Grant, while Nita sat in the backseat with Shep, her hands wrapped around his. Keri couldn’t stop smiling. Watching the two of them dote on each other was one of the sweetest things she’d witnessed in years. Quite the mother hen, Nita hadn’t stopped doting on Shep since the minute he came to in the hospital. Sneaking in treats, keeping him supplied with books and magazines, fussing over him all day long until he fell asleep each night—even hanging a fresh pine wreath on his bathroom door.

Not that Shep minded. He followed her every move with those puppy-dog eyes. He never stopped smiling when she was around. Even when she brought her clippers from home and gave his hair and mustache a long-overdue trimming. Everyone stopped and raved about his new look, and Keri caught him more than once sneaking a pleased peek in the hand mirror Nita had brought him.

Keri reached for Grant’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as they passed the lighthouse. He tossed her a wink, acknowledging the memory of their stolen moments up there. Had it only been a week since they’d finally shared from their hearts up there?

As Grant made the final turn toward the boat dock, the
Sarah Jane
came into view. Miniature white lights stretched from stern to stem, accenting every line of the vessel, sparkling in the reflection of the water. An enormous Douglas fir covered in lights stood on the deck, like a beacon of Christmas cheer. A long banner stretched across the starboard side of the pilothouse: “WELCOME HOME, SHEP!”

“Oh my goodness!” Nita gasped. “Shep, do you see? Isn’t it beautiful?”

Keri glanced in the rearview mirror above her, watching Shep’s face. His chin wobbled as his smile disappeared behind his neatly trimmed but still bushy mustache. The lights reflecting in his eyes revealed a shimmer of tears.

Grant squeezed her hand again, his eyes still darting back and forth between the road ahead and the scene in the backseat through his rearview mirror.

Nita buried her head against Shep’s shoulder. “I think that’s just the sweetest thing I ever saw, don’t you, Shep?”

Of course he didn’t respond. At least not verbally. Instead, a tear broke free, cascading down his weathered face before disappearing into his mustache.

Once they’d boarded the vessel, Keri and Grant seated Shep and Nita at a table set for four, complete with tablecloth and small votive candles. The flames struggled in the breeze, but remained lit, thanks to the surprisingly calmer weather. In moments, Grant and Keri brought up the dinner they’d left warming in the galley. Pecan-crusted flounder, baked potatoes, a fresh tossed salad, and garlic bread. They dined beneath the stars, the conversation happy and festive.

“Well sir . . .”

They waited. Keri was used to Shep’s ways now, his “well sir” now a familiar precursor when he had something to say.

He looked around the table, then ducked his eyes before turning toward Nita. He reached for her hand. “Well sir . . .”

“What’s on your mind, Pop?” Grant finally prodded.

“Oh . . .”

“Out with it, Shep,” Nita urged. “You’re among family here. Spit it out, sweetheart.”

His eyes darted around again, then he looked out across the water, taking in the reflection of the lights bouncing on the waves. Finally, he turned back to Nita and smiled.

“Marry me.”

Nita’s expression went from shock to questioning to tender affection. She tilted her head as her eyes filled and a smile stretched across her face. “Oh Shep, I would be
honored
to marry you.” She searched his face with expectation, obviously waiting for a response.

He quirked a smile, dipped his head again. “Well sir, then.”

They all laughed, then Nita jumped up to smother him with hugs and kisses.

Grant stood as well, holding his hand out to Keri. “How about we take a walk, Miss McMillan?”

Keri rose. “I’d love to, Mr. Dawson.”

They left the lovebirds and made their way off the
Sarah Jane,
then down the marina and onto the beach. They couldn’t help giggling, still shocked at the sudden proposal. A quarter of a mile down the beach they came to a fire pit still stocked with the remnants of someone else’s fire. Grant quickly relit the logs , then he took a seat beside Keri on a log a couple feet from the fire. They snuggled close together against the night air.

“I’m not sure anything could ever surprise me again. Not after
that
shocker.”

She burrowed against him. “Can you believe it? Goodness, those two didn’t waste any time, did they?”

“Yeah, but I guess at their age, time is everything.”

“True,” she echoed. “I’m so happy. For both of them.

“Me too, Keri. The change your aunt has made in my dad . . . it’s nothing short of a miracle. And I couldn’t be happier for them.”

They sat in silence, staring into the fire, warming to its glow. Keri tried to remember if she’d ever been this happy, and for the life of her, couldn’t. She looked up at Grant, so filled with love for this man she’d grown to love. Hard to imagine she’d once despised him. She remembered the first time they’d met, the night the Blankenship cabin burned to the ground. How she’d hated him and hated his witty little exchange with her aunt that night. How she’d fought him, the small town publisher with a Pulitzer collecting dust somewhere. What a loser, she’d thought.

How could that man be the same one here, sitting beside her, filling her heart with so much love?

Talk about a miracle.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Grant reached into the oversized pocket of his squall jacket. He handed her a small package, wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with a red ribbon.

“What’s this?” she smiled. “You’re a little early for Christmas, aren’t you?”

“It’s not really a Christmas gift. But that’s the only wrapping paper I could find. Go on. Open it.”

She looked at him quizzically, and started unwrapping the small box. She lifted the lid, finding an object heavily wrapped in tissue. When she finally pulled the last of the tissue free, her breath caught. In her hands, she held a teacup—a Cobalt Net Lomonosov porcelain. The exact same design of her mother’s heirloom. Her mouth fell open. “How” she mouthed, unable to speak.

“How’d I find it?”

She nodded, still speechless.

He pushed a curl from her eyes. “Easy. I’m a reporter. I investigated.”

“But—”

“Don’t you remember that night at the lighthouse? When you were so upset after finding out your mom’s teacup had accidentally been shattered?”

She nodded slowly, a tear falling from her eyes.

He brushed it away with his thumb. “Well, I decided to see if I could find one. Of course, I knew it could never replace hers. Of course not. But at least it could
represent
her. So instead of seeing that empty saucer and the loss it represented, I thought maybe a replacement might help keep her memory alive.”

She pulled the teacup close to her, cradling it against her chest. “Grant, I don’t know what to say. This is the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Then that settles it. My work is done.”

She carefully wrapped the cup back in the tissue and placed it back in the box before wrapping her arms around his neck. “I can never thank you enough,” she whispered. “You’ll never know how much this means to me.”

He held her face in his hands, then gently kissed her. Not once. Not twice. In fact, at some point he lost count. He slowly pulled his hands from her face and wrapped her snuggly in his arms, pulling back to face her. “I love you, Keri.”

She gulped back a sob of pure joy. “I love you too, Grant. And I think I have for a very long time now.”

He brushed another tear from her check. A moment passed as the glow of the fire reflected in their eyes.

Finally, Grant turned, tucking her under his arm as they faced the fire again. “Well sir . . .” he croaked, mimicking his father’s favorite line.

She laughed. “You do that well. Shep would be impressed.”