The Chesapeake Diaries Series (96 page)

“You forgot to add, a great brother.”

“You are a great brother. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that you are here with us, you and Austin.”

“Thanks. We’re happy to be here, aren’t we, ace?” Austin grinned through a mouthful of mac and cheese.

“Well, as far as Berry is concerned, I do think you’re overreacting. I believe her when she says she’s distracted, but if it makes you feel better, how ’bout if we both keep an eye on her.” Dallas cut the apple into wedges and offered a piece to Wade, who declined. “But keep in mind that on top of everything else, she’s excited about the big party we’re having for my birthday—she’s gotten involved with the planning and she’s looking forward to seeing everyone who’s coming from the West coast. She knows we’re going to be planning a wedding soon, so she’s looking forward to that. You know how she loves social events. Let’s see how things are when everything dies down.”

“Dallas, you know that I’m leaving in two weeks for Connecticut.”

“You’re still planning on going to work for that other guy?”

He nodded.

“Well, I don’t understand why you couldn’t start your own company here,” she pointed out. “You
don’t have to go to Connecticut to make beer for someone else.”

“Have you been talking to Berry?” He eyed her suspiciously.

Dallas shook her head. “Not about this. Why?”

“Because she and I just had this conversation this morning.”

“Well, that proves my point,” she said smugly. “There’s obviously nothing wrong with the way Berry’s thinking if she recognizes that you’d be better off here in St. Dennis.”

“Look, like I told Berry, there’s a lot involved. It’s a little more complicated than merely deciding to do it. I don’t have any equipment and I don’t have any capital nor do I have any collateral to obtain credit,” he said. “What I do have is a really good job offer from an up-and-coming brewery. All I have to do is show up every day and make beer. I don’t have to run the business, I don’t have to deal with the problems, and I get to leave at the end of the workday. All pretty appealing to a single parent.”

“Well, let’s think this through.” She sliced off a thin rectangle of cheese and took a bite. “Say you go to work for this other guy, and you make your beer for him.” She paused. “Did he make you sign a noncompete clause? And if you leave there, do all of your recipes stay with him? Can you open another brewery and use those same recipes elsewhere?”

“I haven’t signed anything yet. It was a verbal offer and accept.” He thought it over for a moment. “Though a contract was mentioned.”

“Get a copy of that now, before you leave St. Dennis.”

“I did request it. But I’ll call him again and remind him that I’m still waiting for it.”

“So say you go to work for him, and in three or six months you decide you hate working for someone else. If you’ve already signed away your brewing secrets, you’re screwed, Wade.”

“True enough. Though Ted didn’t mention that that would be part of the deal, that whatever I bring with me has to stay with him if I leave.”

“It will be in there, once his lawyers get their hands on it.” She cut another paper-thin slice of cheese. “So let’s talk alternatives. You mentioned the expense. I could loan you the start-up money.”

Wade watched Austin drop a handful of macaroni onto the floor.

“Thanks, Dallas, but I don’t know that I have the mental energy to start another business from the ground up. Ted’s offer is appealing because everything will be set up by the time I get there, and I won’t have to invest anything except my talent for brewing beer.” He smiled. “Which I admit is considerable.”

“Oops.” Austin leaned over the side of high chair to point at the mess. Wade cleaned it up with a napkin, which he tossed into the trash.

“Besides, I’d feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Please. You’re my brother. Only one I have. And note I said ‘loan,’ not ‘give.’ Then again, maybe I’d rather be a silent partner.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Please do that.”

“I’d think you’d have your hands full with starting up your own business.”

Her eyes danced. “My own production company.
My own creative team, my own films. I do believe I have died and am on my way to heaven. But I digress. Why not draw up some figures for me and we’ll talk about it?”

“That’s very generous of you.” He sliced a piece off her apple and handed it to Austin. “But I’ve already pretty much committed.”

“Oh, like you’d be the first person ever to change your mind about a job.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, you haven’t seen the contract yet, so you couldn’t have agreed to all the terms. Wait and see what kind of commitment he’s talking about.”

“I’ll be real surprised if there’s something in there that we didn’t discuss, but I see your point. Like I said, I’ll call and remind him that I’m still waiting for the contract.”

“Did you like it? Making beer?”

“I really did. It was interesting and it was fun experimenting with different grains to make different flavors.”

“Sort of the way Steffie makes her ice cream,” Dallas noted. “She likes to experiment, too.”

After a momentary lull, Dallas asked cautiously, “So, have you seen Steffie? Other than the day we all went into Scoop for ice cream.”

“Just here and there around town.” He shrugged, averting his eyes.

“Berry tells me she’s now the proud owner of one of the old places off the Square.”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty cool house.”

“Oh? You saw it?”

“Austin and I got a quick tour the other night while we were out on our walk.”

Another bit of silence, again broken by Dallas. “So, have you talked to her? I mean, about Austin?”

He shook his head. “There hasn’t been much opportunity. I did stop in for a moment at the shop the other morning, but one of her staff came in, and it just didn’t seem appropriate. Besides, I don’t know what to say to her.”

“How about the truth, from start to finish?” When he opened his mouth to protest, she said, “I don’t know what the relationship is between the two of you. Frankly, I don’t think you do either. All I know is that you both get this look when you’re in the same room at the same time, and neither of you can keep your eyes off the other. Don’t interrupt me,” she warned when he appeared about to do just that. “Even if she’s no more than a friend to you—a friend you do have a bit of a history with, if what I’ve heard is true—then I think you owe her the truth, because you know this is a small town, and sooner or later she’s going to hear some things that might be nothing more than idle gossip. If she hears the story—the entire story—from you, she’ll know what the truth is. Wade.” She tapped him on the arm. “It’s the least you could do for a friend.”

“You’re right.” He nodded slowly. “I guess I could talk to her tonight when I drop off the ladder.” He looked at his older sister and said, “Thanks. I appreciate the advice. But you realize it’s tough to have a serious conversation with Himself here running around. Which means you’ll probably have to babysit tonight.”

“Oh, that’s such a hardship, isn’t it, Austin?” Dallas ruffled her nephew’s dark curls. “Poor Aunt Dallas
has to spend time with her little guy. We always have fun, don’t we? You and Cody and Berry and I?”

Austin nodded enthusiastically and craned his neck to look toward the front door. “Cody?”

“Not yet, pal. But you can come with me when it’s time to pick him up from school,” Dallas told him. “Maybe we’ll stop and get some ice cream.”

“Steppie.” Austin clapped his hands.

Dallas shot Wade an amused glance. “Well, it looks like Steffie has more than one friend on River Road. I guess you wouldn’t want to come with us?”

“Thanks but no.” He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I have a ladder to fix.”

The entire time Wade was tying the ladder to the roof of his Jeep with rope he found in the carriage house, he was trying to rehearse what he was going to say to Steffie.

“Listen. About Austin …”
Nah
.

“So maybe you’re curious about Austin …”
Uh-uh
.

“Maybe you’re wondering if I was married the night you and I … I mean, the night of Beck and Mia’s wedding.”
Ouch
.

By the time he arrived at the Olive Street house, he’d pretty much decided that this was one of those times when it would be best to wing it.

He’d been thinking about Steffie a lot since he left Texas, and he was coming to the conclusion that the less he thought about her, the better off he was going to be. There was something about her that drew him in. Dallas was right about that.

“Moth to flame,” he muttered as he stopped in front of her house.

He untied the ladder, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and headed toward the front door. Her car was in the driveway and there were lights inside and music coming from somewhere. He rang the bell, and hoped that it worked, and that he wouldn’t have to wait too long for her to answer it. His hands were sweating, and he told himself that was because he’d been reliving the past six months in his mind all afternoon in anticipation of talking to Steffie about Robin.

The door opening suddenly startled him. He took a step back and almost went down the porch stairs backward.

“Are you okay?” Steffie swung the door open wide.

“Sure. Fine. I just took a little misstep.” He moved the ladder slightly to balance it.

“Hey, you really didn’t have to—”

“I said I would.”

“I didn’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“No trouble. Where would you like it?”

“I guess you can just leave it here in the entry.” She stepped back and held the door for him. She was wearing a tank top, cutoff jeans, and bright orange flip-flops, and she had what appeared to be plaster dust in her hair. Wade’s heart caught in his chest.

He leaned the ladder against one wall and glanced around at the strips of wallpaper that littered the floor.

“I hadn’t planned on pulling it all off,” she explained. “But there was a strip hanging, and once I pulled it, the piece next to it sort of sagged. Next thing I knew …” She pointed to the floor and
shrugged. “Well, one thing led to another. Besides, it’s therapeutic.”

“You’ve got the whole entry almost stripped, though, so that’s a good thing, right?” Wade opened the ladder and set it up next to the front wall where paper was still affixed to the top near the ceiling.

“I couldn’t reach that,” she said.

“That’s why God invented the ladder.” He reached up and pulled at a strip of paper. It came loose but left glue marks on the wall. He looked down at Steffie and asked, “You wouldn’t have a scraper, would you?”

“I do, but you don’t have to—”

“Maybe I could use a little therapy myself.”

“I’ll get the scraper.” Steffie disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later she returned, unwrapping the new tool. “Here you go.” She handed it to him.

“Thanks. Maybe you could go ahead and finish the lower part of the wall, and I’ll do the area nearest the ceiling.”

“This is really nice of you.” Steffie pulled a long piece of paper and it peeled from the wall with ease.

“I’m a nice guy.”

She let that pass without remark.

A moment later, he moved the ladder, removed a stray piece of paper, then climbed down.

“I think we’re finished.”

“Great.” She turned and smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate your—”

“How ’bout this room?” He carried the ladder into the dining room. “Looks like you got a good start on this one, too.”

“I just pulled off the stuff that was hanging. Look,
Wade …” She sneezed, then coughed. “I guess the dust is starting to get to me.” She cleared her throat. “I have water in the fridge. Can I bring you a bottle?”

“That would be great, thanks.” He hadn’t wanted to mention it, but the dust was getting to him, too.

He turned on the dining-room light, then whistled. He was pretty sure he had his opening line down. He’d start out telling her about Robin, how they’d been best buds. Not lovers, they’d never been that. But best friends. He’d say,
I want to tell you about Robin
. And she’d say something like
Okay
. He’d take a deep breath and say,
Robin Kennedy was the first person I met when I arrived at school my freshman year—

“What do you think of that dining-room wallpaper? Does anything say ‘Welcome to 1943’ like little pink flowers on a taupe background?” she called from the kitchen. “It’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

“It’s good to get rid of all the old paper before you start to paint.” He grabbed a loose strip and pulled it, releasing a cloud of dust and crumbling plaster. He paused. “You weren’t planning on painting tonight, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Good. It’s better to get all the paper dust out of the way first. Otherwise, it can settle into the fresh paint and it will look like …” He peeled another strip of paper and let it drop to the floor.

He stared at the wall. Removal of the paper had revealed a large heart drawn directly onto the plaster. Inside the heart had been written
HORACE LOVES DAISY
.

“Stef, was your cousin Horace married?”

“Nope. Lived and died a single gentleman. Why do you ask?”

“You’re going to want to see this.”

“What?”

He went into the kitchen, and she turned to look over her shoulder.

“I can’t get the cap off.” Stef held up the water bottle.

Wade took it from her hand and gave it a good twist, then reached around her to sit it on the counter. She was still turned toward him, as close to him as she’d been when they’d danced. For a moment he was tempted to put an arm around her and lead her into a slow dance there in the kitchen. Instead, he smoothed her hair back from her face. One long strand had pulled from her ponytail, and he tucked it behind her ear.

“You’re coming undone,” he told her.

“You can say that again,” she said wryly.

His hand skimmed along the contour of her face, his thumb tracing her cheek to the corner of her mouth. For that one moment, he wanted nothing more in life than to kiss that mouth. Her eyes held his and he knew he couldn’t look away if he’d wanted to. His thumb followed the full curve of her bottom lip and she turned her head toward it. He lifted her chin and leaned in to kiss her, telling himself just one, just to see what he’d been missing, to see if kissing her would be as good as he thought it would be, even though he knew that was a lie. His lips brushed against hers lightly, but she made no move to pull away. Her hands slid up his chest, grabbing the fabric
of his shirt and pulling him closer. He kissed her for real then, a long-drawn-out kiss that could have lasted forever, would have certainly lasted longer than it did had they not heard the front door slam.