The Chesapeake Diaries Series (42 page)

She made the turn onto River Road and slowed so she could drink in the sights. The houses in Berry’s neighborhood looked much the same as she remembered them. On big lots that sloped down to the river, with carriage houses or barns—some with both—and wide porches, tidy lawns and colorful flower beds, the imposing old homes were all approximately of the same vintage. All were still well kept, which spoke as well of their new young owners as it did of the older residents who’d never left their family homes.

Dallas slowed on her approach to Berry’s, to savor that first view of the main house that had been built by an ancestor over two hundred years ago. She was just about to point it out to Cody, just about to tell him how the original section of the house was even older than that, when he asked, “Are we almost there?”

“We are here,” she told him as she eased into Berry’s winding driveway and followed it around to park near the back porch.

“There’s the river, just like you said, Mommy!”
Cody was out of his car seat and running across the yard in the direction of the river before the key was out of the ignition.

“Cody, hold up.” Dallas opened her car door and called to him, but he was already closing in on the dock.

“Well, for heaven’s sake, Dallas, let the boy wander a bit.” The back door flung open and Beryl Eberle—stage name Beryl Townsend—glided onto the porch.

Eighty-one years young, but looking at least ten years less, Dallas’s great-aunt Beryl had been a star in her own right once upon a time. She’d never lost her sense of timing or failed to make a memorable entrance. Her once blond hair was now snowy white, but her blues eyes still sparkled and her figure was still trim. Dressed in white gauze capris, a matching tunic, and white mules studded with large faux gems, she posed momentarily at the top of the steps before descending, both arms open to her grand-niece.

“You look frightful, darling.” Berry’s arms wrapped around Dallas.

“Frightful?” Dallas grimaced as Berry embraced her.

Berry stood back and held Dallas at arm’s length. “Bags under the eyes, skin pale,” she observed. “And possibly a bit too thin.”

“But
frightful
, Berry?”

“All right, sweetie. We’ll go with exhausted,” Berry announced. “Is that better?”

“Anything is better than frightful.”

“Nothing that some restful days and nights and some time in the sun can’t cure.”

“I always heard that sun exposure isn’t good for
your skin,” Dallas replied. “That it ages you prematurely.”

“Does this face look prematurely aged?” Berry asked. Without waiting for an answer, she said, “I get my twenty minutes every day without sunscreen, which you need to do for vitamin D. Do I look as if I’ve aged prematurely?” she repeated.

“You look wonderful, as always, Berry.”

“Of course I do, dear. And you’re here now, and we’ll take good care of you and soon you’ll look wonderful again, too. Now, I need to see my boy.”

“Who at this moment is a little too close to the water.” Dallas handed her aunt the flowers and set off for the dock.

“Lovely colors, dear, thank you.” Berry laid the bouquet on the steps then hastened to keep up. “The child does know how to swim, doesn’t he?”

“He’s taken lessons but he’s never been tested.”

“Well, he has to be able to swim if he’s going to be staying here on the river, Dallas. We can’t be worried about him falling in and drowning.”

“There’s a pleasant thought for our first night here.”

Dallas stepped onto the wooden deck and walked the length of it to where Cody lay on his stomach trailing his fingers in the water.

“Cody, you’re not showing very good manners. You didn’t even say hi to Aunt Berry,” Dallas chastised him softly.

“Hi, Aunt Berry,” he said without looking up.

“Cody, that isn’t …” Dallas began but Berry dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

“What’s down there, Cody?” Berry asked. “What do you see?”

“There are lots of little tiny fishes,” he told her. “See there? By the pole?”

“The pole is called a piling, dear,” Berry told him. She looked over the side of the pier. “Look here, Cody, there’s a crab near this one.”

“Where? I want to see.” He jumped up and followed her pointing finger. “Is that a Chesapeake blue crab?”

The crab took off, scurrying through the sea grass and disappearing in a blink.

“Ah, there’s a lesson learned,” Berry said. “Soft voice, slow movements when you’re trying to observe something in nature.”

“The crab heard me under the water?” Cody narrowed his eyes.

“No doubt it did, but I believe it was your shadow falling on the water that frightened it away. Creatures like crabs and small fishes are always alert for danger from something bigger that might want to eat them, but yes, that was one of our famous Chesapeake blue crabs.”

Cody knelt slowly, and inch by inch, approached the end of the dock and peered into the water.

“Much better, child.” Berry turned to Dallas. “He is quite the quick study, isn’t he?”

Dallas laughed. “Very quick.”

Berry tapped him on the shoulder. “Well, then, Cody, come along inside and let’s see if you’re as quick to learn how to eat one of those Chesapeake blue crabs.”

He looked up at her as if confused. “Do you eat them a special way?”

“Oh my, yes. There’s a special technique to opening the shells.” She stood and she took his hand and led him up the gentle slope toward the house. “Perhaps tomorrow, your mother and I will teach you how to catch one. Assuming, of course, that she remembers …”

Chapter 3

Dallas awoke the next morning in the same room she’d slept in every summer night in St. Dennis since she was twelve. Before that, she and her younger brother, Wade, had shared a room at the end of the hall, but on her twelfth birthday, Berry had moved her into a room of her own. Overlooking the river, Dallas’s turret room was furnished with antiques and had an alcove with a cushioned window seat where she’d spent many a rainy day reading or writing in her diary about her one true love, and many a night when she’d stared up at the moon and imagined herself in his arms. She’d sighed many a dramatic sigh and shed many a teenage tear in that alcove. If she sat too long in the window seat, she could almost believe that some of that young angst had somehow survived the years and lingered on in that room, absorbed into the wallpaper and the overstuffed chair in the corner, neither of which had changed over the years.

As Dallas rose on this first morning in St. Dennis, the only thing on her mind was breakfast. She’d been promised pancakes and bacon, and since there were
no photo shoots to worry about for a while, she was going to
eat
.

She walked to the window and opened it, then leaned down to take a deep breath of fresh, smog-free air. She rested her hands on the wide windowsills and looked out toward the Bay, where sunlight caught the arc of gentle waves and gulls swooped gracefully across the sky. Below on the dock, movement caught her eye, and she pushed the curtain aside to get a better look.

Berry, dressed in a black top and yoga pants, was practicing tai chi on the dock. Cody, by her side, was trying his best to mimic her movements. Dallas couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two of them together. A few minutes later, still smiling, she let the curtain drop back into place and headed for the shower.

“Ah, you’re up!” Berry beamed when Dallas strolled into the kitchen, her hair still damp around her face. “Cody and I were just discussing flies.”

“Flies?” Dallas frowned as she helped herself to coffee from the old-fashioned silver service that Berry kept on the counter.

“Oh, you remember the flies, dear. Those horrible greenhead flies, and those nasty stable flies that eat us alive in July and August.” Berry turned her back to flip a pancake on the griddle, and Cody turned to his mother with a questioning eye. Dallas nodded—
Yes, Berry was telling the truth, the flies could be vicious
—and took a seat at the table across from her son.

“Depending, of course, whether the breeze is blowing from the Bay, or from land.” Berry glanced over
her shoulder. “You want the breeze from the Bay, Cody, like this morning. Otherwise, during fly season, you could be snatched up and simply carried away by a swarm.”

Cody shot a glance at his mother, who shook her head—
No, that couldn’t really happen
.

“We all have scars here and there from those beastly greenhead buggers who bite and positively
rip
the skin to get at your blood.” Berry finished with a flourish.

Dallas nodded again. “Sad but true.”

“How big are these flies?” Cody frowned.

“Oh, they can grow as big as half an inch,” Berry assured him.

“How big is that?” he wondered.

“Over in the cabinet there by the door, second drawer from the top on the left side”—Berry pointed—“you’ll find a small tape measure. Bring it over to your momma and she’ll show you what half an inch looks like.”

Cody did as he was told, and Dallas pointed out the half-inch mark.

“That doesn’t look so big,” he said.

“Darlin’, in the world of flies, that is one big sucker. And don’t let’s even talk about the mosquitoes we’ve had this year. You go outside, you put on some of that spray I have. Won’t help against the flies, but it will keep the mosquitoes away.” Berry placed a full plate of pancakes on the table and removed the empty one. “Dallas, I’m so happy to see you eating. You’re way too thin.”

“I’m happy to see me eating your pancakes, Berry.”

“Well, there’s bacon there, too, so you help yourself,”
Berry said as she reached for the ringing phone on the kitchen wall.

“Wow. Dinner last night and breakfast this morning,” Dallas observed. “When did you become such a cook?”

“Since I got hooked on the Food Channel,” Berry noted, and answered the phone.

“Why doesn’t Aunt Berry’s spray help against the flies?” Cody asked his mother.

“Because nothing much does,” she replied. “These are some tough, wily flies.”

“Did you ever get bit?”

“Many times. Berry isn’t exaggerating. Those flies are downright mean. Fortunately, here where we are on the point, we get many more days when the breeze from the Bay blows the flies inland.” Dallas pointed out the window. “Oh, and see those birdhouses on the poles along the side yard there? Those are purple martin houses. A lot of people think those birds help by eating mosquitoes and flies.”

“And for my money, they do,” Berry remarked as she hung up the phone and turned to Dallas. “That was Grace Sinclair on the phone. She wanted to know if it was true that you were in town.”

“I knew word traveled fast around here, but that’s impressive. How could she have heard so quickly?”

“She said Tom Roth was just passing by when you turned into the driveway yesterday, and he was pretty sure it was you.”

“What passes for news around here …” Dallas grumbled. “How is Gracie these days?”

“Still hanging on to that weekly paper of hers.” Berry brought her coffee to the table and sat next to
Cody. “I hear she’s doing quite well with it these days, since St. Dennis has had such a rebirth, what with all the tourists coming through all the time. The paper is free, but she takes paid ads from all the local merchants who want to make sure the visitors know where to find their shops, what specials they’re offering, what’s doing in the town that week, that sort of thing. And of course, her son, Daniel, is doing very well with the Inn.” Berry paused to take a sip of coffee. “You remember the Inn at Sinclair’s Point, don’t you?”

“Sure. I used to play tennis out there with …” She bit back the name. “With friends when I was in high school.”

Berry smiled to let Dallas know she wasn’t fooled.

“I don’t recall you playing tennis with anyone other than Grant Wyler, dear.” Berry stirred her coffee. “Did I tell you he’s back in St. Dennis?”

“Yes. I think you might have mentioned it.” Dallas refused to bite.
Only about forty times
.

“He bought Dr. Evans’s vet practice when the old man retired last year,” Berry continued.

Dallas grinned in spite of herself. That “old man,” Dr. Evans, was probably a good five years younger than Berry.

“And I heard he opened a rescue shelter for small animals.”

“What kind of small animals?” Cody’s head shot up.

“Oh, dogs and cats, mostly, I believe,” Berry told him.

“Why do they need to be rescued?” he asked.

“I suppose because they are animals whose owners either don’t want them or can’t keep them for some
reason.” Dallas chose her words carefully. She knew that many of the animals in such shelters had been rescued from high-kill shelters. “The shelters take them in and try to find new homes for them.”

“Maybe we could find a dog for us there.” Cody looked across the table at his mother. “You said I could have a dog.”

“No, Cody. I did not.” Dallas placed her cup carefully on the saucer. “What I said was—”

“Oh, every boy should have a dog, dear,” Berry interrupted.

“I don’t recall that Wade had a dog when he lived here,” Dallas said.

“I don’t recall that Wade ever asked.” Berry ran a bejeweled hand through Cody’s hair. “But now that I think about it, a small dog—perhaps one of those pretty, fluffy little things—might be nice. A white one, I think. A lapdog …”

“When can we go?” Cody jumped up from his chair.

“Cody, for heaven’s sake, we only just arrived here yesterday,” Dallas reminded him. “Let’s get unpacked first and settle in, give us all time to think this over. We talked about this, remember? A dog is a big responsibility. They have to be fed and walked—”

“I can feed it! I can walk it! I can be responsible!”

“—and they have to be cleaned up after, as well. In the yard, if you catch my drift.”

“I can do that! I will do that!” Cody was wide-eyed at the prospect.

“As I said, let’s settle in before we go making decisions that we will have to live with for a long time.” Dallas watched her son’s face. He rose from the table
and started toward the door, then stopped, turned around, came back, and picked up his plate and his juice glass. Without prompting, he stood on his tiptoes to rinse everything at the kitchen sink. Then he opened the dishwasher and put in the plate and glass. He returned to the table and picked up his knife and fork, and took them to the dishwasher as well.