The Chesapeake Diaries Series (5 page)

BOOK: The Chesapeake Diaries Series
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“Not to worry. We’ll find things for him to do.”
Things a guy like him might find exciting, like, oh, picking up litter on Charles Street. Counting the gumballs in the containers on the counter at the drugstore. Watching the pedestrians cross at the corner. Cool, fun stuff like that
.

“You know, he’s really a terrific guy and he’s had such a hard time of things these past few years. I just hate the thought of him not having a good time, or, you know, feeling left out of things because he’s by himself and—”

“Relax.” Vanessa patted Mia on the arm. “He’ll be fine. Cross my heart. I’m sure we can find ways to keep him busy.”

I may want to slit my throat from sheer boredom before the week’s over, but I will see to it that Mountain Man has a full dance card
.

The bridal salon where Mia found her dress was in a newly renovated two-story house right outside of Annapolis. There was parking at the door and a hostess who showed Vanessa to a lovely white damask sofa, then served her tea and small cakes while Mia tried on her dress for the last time before taking it home. Vanessa had never seen so many beautiful and expensive designer gowns in one place before, and she couldn’t stop herself from going to the racks and thumbing through the dresses. Lace, satin, satin and lace, chiffon—there were gowns for all seasons and every time of day or night, from the most casual morning ceremony to the most lavish black-tie affair. The variety alone took Vanessa’s breath away. She stopped to admire a strapless gown of pure white chiffon that had huge fabric flowers trailing down the back and another at the waist in the front.

“That would be absolutely drop-dead stunning on you.” A saleswoman appeared at her elbow. “Would you like to try it on?”

“No! I mean, I’m not looking for … that is, I’m just waiting for my brother’s fiancée. She’s here to pick up her gown.”

“Oh, so sorry.” The saleswoman smiled. “That dress is a favorite of mine, and when I saw you looking at it, I couldn’t help but think how perfect it would be on you.”

“Well, perhaps in another life.” Vanessa backed away from the rack and returned to her seat, where she sipped her tea and nibbled on her tea cakes and fought back the waves of regret that washed over her.

“Ness, what do you think?” Mia stepped out from the dressing area. “Do you think it’s all right?”

“All right?” Vanessa stood and clapped her hands in glee. “All right? It’s magnificent. Perfect. You look … perfect. Gorgeous. We should probably add a tank of oxygen to that list of yours. My brother is going to have trouble breathing when he sees you walking up the aisle.”

“Oh God, I hope so.” Mia fussed with the skirt. “Otherwise, what would be the point of all this?”

“True. Now turn.” Vanessa motioned with her hand, and Mia pivoted slowly. “It’s perfect, Mia. Everything about it, from that soft off-the-shoulder neckline to the full skirt. And that fabric is to die for … silk as thin as a sheet of tissue paper.” She found herself tearing up. “You are going to be one stunning bride, girl.”

“Thank you,” Mia whispered, a bit teary-eyed herself.

“It
is
gorgeous on her, isn’t it?” The saleswoman beamed and fussed with the row of covered buttons that ran down the back of the dress. “I swear, when I see a bride in a dress that looks as if it had been designed just for her, it makes my day. And this gown was certainly made with a figure like yours in mind, Mia.”

“I knew it was the one the first time I saw it.” Mia smiled and turned just a bit to see the back in the
three-way mirror, where she met Vanessa’s eyes. “I wanted a dress that would knock Beck’s socks off.”

“That’s the very least it will do,” Vanessa assured her.

Mia returned to the dressing room to change, the saleswoman disappearing with her behind the curtain to assist. When she emerged with the gown in hand, she turned to Vanessa and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to take another look at that dress? You never know …”

“Trust me,” Vanessa told the saleswoman. “I
know. Never
is the operative word there.”

Mia’s dress was carefully slipped onto a form, then tucked into its garment bag. The saleswoman accompanied Mia and Vanessa to the car, and gently secured it in the backseat. She hugged Mia and made her promise to send pictures of the big day.

Mia slid behind the wheel and eased her new Malibu into traffic.

“For the longest time, it seemed as if the wedding would never get here. Now it’s eight days away and I can’t believe it’s going by so quickly. I don’t know how I’ll get everything finished in time.” Mia shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to bake cookies for the favors instead of buying something.”

“You were thinking it was your mother’s favorite cookie recipe,” Vanessa reminded her, “and that would be one way of having her there with you.”

“She always made them for family occasions. She always let us help, all four of us. I just don’t know how we’ll get them done.”

“We’re going to bake on Thursday next week, and
we’ll box the cookies and tie pretty ribbons around them on Friday. All will be done on time, so relax.”

Mia grinned sheepishly. “You’re probably so tired of hearing about this wedding, the flowers and the invitations and the seating chart and the favors and everything else. Since you’ve been through it all yourself, I guess it’s old hat to you.”

“Not really.” Vanessa turned her head to look out the side window. “I never really had a wedding.”

“What are you talking about? You were married before.” Mia frowned.

“Twice. But I never really had a
wedding
, not like what you and Beck are having,” Vanessa explained. “The first time was in a Las Vegas chapel, and I wore leggings and a sweater and my bouquet of silk flowers was borrowed from the wife of the Elvis impersonator who owned the place. I had just turned eighteen. The second time I wore a short blue dress I’d bought on sale at the department store where I was working and carried some yellow roses I’d bought for myself on the way to city hall, where a judge performed a two-minute ceremony.”

Vanessa watched a shadow cross Mia’s face, then added, “It’s all right to say it.”

“Say what?” Mia hedged.

“Say that you’re sorry, or, ‘oh, I didn’t know,’ or whatever it is that you’re thinking.”

“I was thinking that I was sorry that neither of them were right for you,” Mia admitted. “That I’m sorry that you didn’t have the hoopla.”

“In retrospect, it would have been wasted hoopla, since neither husband number one nor husband number two was worth it.”

“Ness, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking that all this might bring up bad memories for you.”

“Oh, sweetie, those memories are there, regardless,” Vanessa assured her. “Some things just never go away, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Mia repeated.

“Why be?” Vanessa forced a brightness she didn’t really feel. “You have every right to be excited and happy and chatty about your wedding. For heaven’s sake, Mia, you’re marrying one hell of a great guy.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

“The best. And it’s going to be a glorious spring day, and it will be the most beautiful wedding ever. Everything will be perfect.”

“It will, mostly thanks to you.” Mia nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

“It’s nothing. I’m a party planner at heart. Besides, Beck’s the only brother I have. I want his day to be wonderful.”

“Maybe someday we’ll get to return the favor.”

“Uh-uh. Don’t even think those evil thoughts. Marriage is not for me. I learned that the hard way.”

“Hey, you’re young, and you never know …”

“Trust me.” Vanessa shook her head. “Been there, done that. Got the scars to prove it.”

The fingers of her right hand rose, and without thinking, she traced a raised line under her shirt, one that ran from just above her left breast to her collarbone. It was only one of the many scars Vanessa bore, one of the many reminders that “bliss” didn’t always follow “wedded.”

*   *   *

Hal Garrity draped his baited line over the index finger of his left hand and let the heavy string drop over the side of his boat into the shallow waters of the Chesapeake. He’d opted for the old rowboat this morning, since the shallows where he preferred to crab was no place for the
Shady Lady
, his cabin cruiser. This was his favorite time of day—just as the sun rose—and his favorite pastime: sitting in the small craft that had been seasoned by many years of crabbing and had weathered many a storm, much like Hal himself.

It was early in the season, so he didn’t expect to bring in as many crabs as he might in the summer months, but that didn’t matter. He’d take whatever he caught into the police station and fire up a pot of water and steam those blue claws for whoever was lucky enough to be on duty at the time. The size of the catch wasn’t the point of spending a few hours out here or drifting along in the nearby river. The point was having a few hours away from everyone and everything, a few hours to think about things that were on his mind. Today, he had his family on his mind.

First there was Beck. It seemed like only yesterday he’d shown up on Hal’s doorstep, surly and disrespectful and about as full of attitude as a boy could be. It had taken awhile, but he’d worked it all out of him, taught the kid the things he needed to know. By the time Beck graduated from high school, pretty near all of the rough spots had been ironed out. He’d grown into one fine man, and it had given Hal no small amount of satisfaction over the years to have watched his son grow into his own. In his heart, Hal knew that it was he who’d helped mold the unruly
boy into the outstanding young man, and he secretly guarded the pride he felt in the job he’d done.

He and Beck had been their own little clan for a long, long time, and that had been just fine with both of them. They understood each other, knew each other’s moods and silences the way parents and children do. Then one day, there was a tentative knock on his door, and when he’d opened it, there stood the loveliest young woman. She was tall and had long dark curly hair, and he’d suspected that under all that makeup, she was probably as beautiful as one of those magazine models. They were in the midst of one of those uncommon early snowfalls, and there were flakes melting in her hair and on her eyelashes.

“Are you Hal?” she’d asked in that scared-to-death voice.

“I am,” he’d told her.

“I’m Vanessa,” she’d said simply, and looked up at him with the palest blue eyes, and in that moment, he’d known exactly who she was. “My mother told me it was time I met you and Beck.”

“How
is
Maggie?” he’d asked as he’d opened the door to invite her in, then closed it behind her.

And with that, Hal felt his family circle was complete. He had his son, and with Vanessa’s arrival, he had a daughter. Oh, he knew he wasn’t her biological father, and she was already in her twenties when she showed up at his door. But he’d taken the girl into his heart, and he’d been the kind of father she’d needed, and he’d never for a moment regretted having opened his door to her. In many ways, she’d suffered from a lack of good parenting—just as her half brother had—and God knows the girl had a lot of baggage,
but inside, she was as sweet a girl as Hal had ever known. As sweet as Maggie had been, when he’d first met her, before he’d gone off to war and fate had had its way with the both of them.

Ah, well
. He sighed and gently raised the string in response to the slight tugging he’d felt. That milk had been spilt ages ago, and he’d long since quit crying over it. He and Maggie had each traveled their own paths in the years that followed. Hal was a man with few regrets, but he’d never looked back on his time with her without wondering what might have been. He’d loved Maggie Beck with all his heart, and he’d never loved another woman since.

The string went taut and Hal held fast with one hand and grabbed the long-handled net with the other. He peered over the side of the boat slowly, and saw the large jimmy feasting on the chicken neck he was using as bait. He lowered the net into the water and scooped up the male blue claw in one motion, then dumped it into the pot that sat on the floor near his feet. He covered the pot with the lid, and dropped the nibbled-on chicken part back into the water.

And now, Hal reflected, his circle was about to expand again. Soon he’d be welcoming another daughter into the fold. Mia Shields was about as well matched to Beck as any woman could be, in Hal’s estimation. She’d been an FBI agent for a number of years before quitting and moving to St. Dennis. It had been a case that had brought her to town, but it had been Beck who had brought her back when the case was over. She quit the Bureau, applied for a criminal investigator’s job with the county when the first opening appeared, and as far as Hal knew, Mia never
looked back. She and Beck were cut from the same cloth, in some ways, and were different enough in others to balance nicely, Hal thought. He was looking forward to the wedding, looking forward to letting that circle continue to grow. Who knows, there could be grandkids one day.

Wouldn’t that be something
, he mused, and couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
An old confirmed bachelor like me, a grandfather. Wouldn’t that just be something …

Another tug on the line, another grab for the net, another crab for the pot. This one clung tenaciously to the net, and a few minutes passed before Hal was dropping his latest catch into the pot with the others and replacing the lid. He heard a clatter of claws inside the pot and hoped they wouldn’t battle to the point where they dismembered each other.

“Settle down there, boys,” he told them as he slipped his string into the water.

He hunched over slightly, leaning on the arm that rested on the side of the boat. The sun was up now, though not enough to bring any real heat yet. Still, he reached into his pocket with his free hand and took out his sunglasses and put them on. The dark glasses always made him smile.

“They’re so Hollywood, Hal. You look mysterious and oh so very cool in those,” Vanessa had told him when she’d given them to him as a just-because present.

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