Driftwood Point (25 page)

“That accounts for the full parking lot,” Lis observed. “Oh, there's Owen's car. He and Gigi must be here already.”

“Then she's probably on the back patio with Aunt Grace. That's one of her favorite places to hang out.” Still holding her hand, Alec led Lis around to the back of the building and the covered veranda that stood beneath a long line of magnolia trees.

“Well, there you are.” Lis joined Ruby and Grace. “I didn't know you'd be here.”

“Slipped my mind, I suppose.” Ruby noted Lis's and Alec's joined hands with obvious satisfaction. “Can't pass up my day with Gracie, and since the Fourth fell on Tuesday, I get to enjoy a barbecue and the view at the same time I get to visit. How was the parade?”

“It was fun,” Lis told her.

Ruby appeared oddly satisfied at this admission as well. “Long time coming,” she said to no one in particular.

Lis couldn't tell if Ruby was referring to the fact
that Lis had finally experienced a St. Dennis parade, or to her changed relationship with Alec, or both.

Just as Alec had promised, there was nonstop activity until late afternoon when, sure enough, he fell asleep on the grass beneath the pines. Lis tried to stay awake, but the heat combined with the barbecued chicken and potato salad she'd eaten made her drowsy as well.

“Must have been the Smith Island cake,” she muttered as she stretched out on the grass next to Alec, her head on his shoulder. Within minutes she was sound asleep, and when she awoke, her head was on his chest and his arm was wrapped around her. She felt momentarily disoriented. It seemed so natural to be lying there, so close together. On the other hand, it felt almost too intimate, and she was trying to figure out how best to extricate herself from his embrace when he said, “Are you awake?”

“I am.”

“Good. My arm's asleep.”

She sat up at the same time he did.

“Sorry,” she told him.

“Not your fault, and not a big deal. The blood will return in a few minutes.”

Lis smothered a yawn with her hand. “I didn't realize I was that tired.”

“When I told you that a nap on the lawn was part of the day, I wasn't kidding. Now, how 'bout we get a couple of beers and check out the sailboat races. They're probably almost over, but at least we'll see who crosses the finish line.”

By the end of the day, Lis's head was spinning. She
hadn't done that much socializing, hadn't talked that much, in years. They were just getting ready to watch the fireworks when Lis saw her brother. He was seated on the lawn next to Cass Logan.

“Something wrong?” Alec asked when he saw her staring. His gaze followed hers.

“Not really. I was just wondering how Owen ended up here with Cass Logan.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.”

“Then let's get a seat down front for the fireworks. They'll be starting soon.”

They sat close together on the grass, Alec's arm around her. When she startled at the first loud boom, he drew her to him almost instinctively, and when the finale filled the sky with exploding colors and one boom after another, they walked together back up the lawn to the inn.

“We can probably get a ride back to the island with Owen,” Lis told Alec. “He's probably going to take Gigi back.”

“Would you rather ride or walk? I don't have a preference.”

“Then let's walk. It's a beautiful night.”

They said their good-byes and walked leisurely toward the road, their hands entwined, their arms swinging between them. The air had cooled with the setting of the sun, and a gentle breeze had picked up. Even though they'd spent the entire day together, Lis wasn't ready to watch Alec drive away. As they strolled across the bridge, fireworks could be heard in the distance.

“Where do you suppose those are coming from?” Alec asked.

“Let's walk out to the point”—Lis tugged him toward the road—“and you'll see. It's my turn to show and tell.”

The walk to the point took another fifteen minutes, but once they'd seated themselves at the very end of the pier, it had been worth it. From across the bay, fireworks spewed huge pinwheels of color far into the sky. The show lasted for close to an hour, each display grander and louder than the one before.

“That was a perfect ending to a perfect day.” Alec stood and reached a hand to Lis to pull her up. “A perfect night.”

“It was. I can't remember when I—”

Whatever Lis couldn't remember was lost when he wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth with his. The last time he'd kissed her, Lis had thought it was the best kiss ever, but that had been before tonight. Last time, she realized, was only the warmup. This was the real deal, deep and hot and soul stirring, and the only thing that went through her mind was
more.
More of his lips, more of the way his tongue mingled with hers and then teased the corners of her mouth. More of the heat that built up between them. More of Alec.

A last boom from across the bay jolted them both, and Lis pushed back, startled, then they both laughed somewhat nervously.

“I thought for a moment someone was shooting at us,” Lis said, only half joking.

“It could happen.” Alec stared toward the road, at the far end of the property from where they stood on the pier.

Two figures appeared near the road, moving toward them.

“Who do you think that is?” Lis whispered.

“Probably a couple of kids looking for a spot to make out,” he replied.

They watched as the figures drew closer, then stopped. They walked side by side some distant apart, not touching, nor were they hand in hand the way would-be lovers would be, though one was clearly a man and the other a woman. Suddenly the two stopped and stood as if staring at something.

“Alec, they're stopping at the cottage,” Lis said. “Do you think they're going to try to break in?”

“I don't know, though anyone from around here wouldn't bother. Everyone knows the place is about to fall down.”

“Really?” Her attention shifted from the trespassers at the cottage to Alec. “Really? Is that your final, professional contractor assessment?”

He cleared his throat. “I wasn't going to say anything until I got the written report from the termite inspector, but I ran into him yesterday morning, and he told me from everything he's seen, it's not good. There's a lot more damage than I'd suspected, and frankly, I suspected there was a lot.”

“But you can fix it all, right? You'll fix it for me?”

“Lis, sometimes things can't be fixed. The foundation is rotted and now we're finding out that the
support beams were riddled by termites. It doesn't look good.”

“So what you're saying is . . .”

“It's probably a teardown. I'm sorry. I know it meant a lot to you.”

“Damn it. Why can't you build a new foundation and replace the supports?”

“We'd have to take up the floor to do that.”

“But you could do that, couldn't you?”

“We're talking about a lot of time and a lot of money, and even at that, I don't know that it would work.”

Lis fell silent, and disappointment bled through her, stronger than she'd imagined.

“Look, we can rebuild it to look like the original. We can replicate the floor plan, but we can make it even better. We can make the rooms larger, put in central air, new windows that actually open and close.”

“It won't be the same.” She tried not to sound petulant, but she'd had her heart set on moving in and setting up a new studio in a new place that had new energy. In her mind's eye, she even saw herself creating great works of art there.

He stroked her hair, from the crown to the center of her back, where it had flowed when she took out the elastic that had held it back all day.

“No, it won't be the same, but we can put in it everything you love about the old place. We'll reuse as much as we can and we can make it look the same from the outside. You can position it anywhere you want on the point, like closer to the bay with
windows overlooking the water, bringing in the bay and the sky. You can have skylights upstairs, more than one fireplace—whatever you want.”

“I wanted Ruby's place. I wanted the floors she and my great-grandfather walked on and the steps they climbed.” She'd felt such a sense of history, of family there.

“You can have those things,” he assured her. “We'll take up the floorboards, and the ones that aren't damaged, we'll use in the new place.”

“But you can't re-create the whispers and the tears and the laughter, the emotions that are in the walls and in the air there.” The things that mattered most and could never be duplicated.

“No,” he conceded, “I can't do that.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” She broke away from him except for her right hand, which sought his. “I guess it wasn't meant to be. And maybe you're right, maybe it's too far gone to fix. I was just hoping . . .”

Alec sighed with resignation. “Look, maybe I can take another look. Maybe there's some way . . . I can talk to Cameron O'Connor, see if he has any ideas.”

“I knew you'd do it.” Her expression went from sad to smug in the blink of an eye.

“Just understand that it's iffy at best. I will do whatever I can, but no guarantees. And if you decide you want to rebuild it, I promise you it will be everything you want it to be.”

“My hero.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Don't get ahead of the game here.”

“I know you can do it. I know you can make it work.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Alec sighed. “I'll give it my best.”

Hand in hand, they walked the length of the pier to the grass. As she and Alec drew closer to the cottage, the couple they'd noticed earlier backed away. A minute later, they heard the sound of a car engine and something small and sleek drove off.

“I guess they were just poking around,” Lis said. “They wouldn't be the first to drive out here just to look at the place.”

“Probably,” he agreed.

They walked back to Ruby's along the western side of the island, past the abandoned chapels and the old churchyards.

“Do you have a key for the front door, or do you want to walk around the back?” Alec asked her when they arrived at the old store.

“I have keys to both,” she told him. “I'll go in here.”

Ruby had left on the porch lights both front and back, so the lock was easy to find.

“I'm glad she's locking the door these days,” Lis noted while she unlocked it. “For a long time, she never bothered.”

“Even Ruby recognizes that it's a different world.”

Lis turned the key and added, “She said as much, that change was coming.”

“Did she tell you what kind of change?”

Lis shook her head and pushed the door open. “No, but I'm sure she knows. She always seems to know.”

“Change isn't necessarily a bad thing,” Alec told her. “Sometimes a little change is good.”

“True. At least, it's been good for me. The change in scenery has been good for my work.”

“Not so many tall buildings to paint around here.”

“I think I might be ready for something else.” She told him about her second-floor studio and the painting of the island she was working on for Ruby. “I want to paint her as well,” she told him. “I've been working on sketches. Her beauty is so hard to capture on paper. Her bone structure is perfect and her features are classic. There's no one else who looks quite like her.”

“Does she know you're doing it?”

Lis shook her head. “I don't think she does. I've been sketching her in bits and pieces but I don't think she's caught on that the sketch was the first step to a painting.”

“I'm sure she'll love it when it's finished.”

“I hope so. But it isn't for her. It's for me. I keep thinking about the time when . . . when . . .” Lis couldn't make the words come.

“When she isn't with us anymore.” Alec finished the sentence for her.

“I can't even bring myself to say it. I know she won't live forever—none of us will—but I can't imagine what life would be like without her. It's one of the reasons why I closed up my apartment and brought a lot of my stuff down here. I want to spend as much time as I can on the island.”

“What are the other reasons?”

Her arms slid around his neck. “I think you can figure that out for yourself.”

“Maybe. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I want to spend more time with you, here. I want to see where this leads.” She kissed him. “Is that what you had in mind?”

“That just about covers it, yes.” He pulled her closer. “I've waited a long, long time for you. I didn't even realize I'd been waiting until I saw you again. We both deserve the chance to see where this goes.”

“And in the meantime, we can work together on my house.”

“Wait. Does this mean you're only interested in my rehab skills?”

“I'll bet you really rock your tool belt.”

“So I've been told.”

The lights from a car rounded the bend in their direction, and seconds later Owen drove past the front of the store and around toward the back.

“Kiss me good night, Alec, before Owen shows up and ruins the mood.” She stretched to reach his mouth. “Thank you again for an absolutely perfect day. Maybe one of my most favorite days ever.”

“Even after me telling you that the cottage might not—”

She put her hand over his mouth and grinned. “I have faith in you. You're going to figure it out.”

Chapter Fourteen

S
o how was your date last night?” Lis asked Owen over coffee the next morning.

“I didn't have a date last night,” he replied.

“Oh. My mistake. I saw you and Cass Logan at the inn yesterday. And since you mentioned she was staying someplace on Dune Drive and the barbecue was for paying guests at the inn plus Sinclair family and friends, I assumed she had come with you. As your date.” Lis stood at the counter, pouring half-and-half into her coffee. She didn't have to turn around to know what expression was on her brother's face, but turn around she did, because she couldn't resist. “Since you qualify as one of the aforementioned Sinclair family and friends . . .”

“Not that you are entitled to the information, but she is staying at the inn. She was on the waiting list for a long-term room, and when one became available, she checked out of the place she was staying in and moved her things into the inn.” He put his mug of coffee aside and took a container of
orange juice from the refrigerator. “And before you ask, no, I don't know how long term it's going to be.”

“What's she doing in St. Dennis?”

He seemed to hesitate. “Vacation. Like about five thousand other people who come here in the summer.”

“If you drink right out of that carton, I'm telling Gigi,” Lis warned.

Owen laughed and poured juice into a glass. He held the carton out to Lis.

“No, thanks,” she told him, and he returned the juice to the fridge.

“So you just ran into Cass when you went over to the inn to drop off Gigi and you decided to stay?”

“Pretty much, yeah. It was just a coincidence. Speaking of yesterday at the inn, you and Jansen looked pretty cozy, all snuggled up in the shade under that big tree down near the water.”

“You're just jealous because no one was snuggling with you. Though you and Cass looked pretty cozy, off by yourselves chatting away. What do you and an architect have to talk about for so long, anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Owen took his coffee, and a slice of toast from Lis's plate, and went out onto the back porch.

Lis finished her breakfast and washed Owen's and her dishes before going into the store, where she chatted with a few of the latecomers that morning.

“Did you sleep in this morning, Mr. Eisner?” she asked the elderly gentleman who leaned on his cane as he waited for a new pot of coffee to brew. Lis looked at the clock over the door. “You're usually in by seven.”

“Late night, yes indeed,” he told her. “Damned fireworks kept me up past eleven.”

“They stopped by ten, if I remember correctly.”

“Maybe so, but I still heard 'em in my head. Boom! Boom!” He shook his gray head. “All that noise.”

“Well, it's only one night out of the year,” she reminded him.

“One night too many, you ask me.” He continued to grumble after he poured his coffee and snapped on the lid, and even as he paid Ruby at the cash register.

“Well, now, Fred, you know, you'll be sleeping long enough, by and by,” Ruby told him. “Time to enjoy what be in this world. Time enough to sleep in the next.”

He harrumphed and shuffled off to the door, his cane in one hand, his coffee in the other.

“Lisbeth Jane, you should know better than to put a bee in his bonnet, 'specially so early in the morning,” Ruby chastised her, but there was a hint of a gleam in her eye. “To hear him tell, that man never had a good day in his life.”

“That's so sad,” Lis said.

Ruby nodded. “That's a fact.”

A delivery truck pulled into the drive and several large cartons were brought into the store. While Ruby chatted with the delivery man, Lis took Ruby's box cutter from a drawer near the counter and sliced the tops of the boxes. She shelved the cans of soup and the boxes of tissues and rolls of paper towels, then hauled the empty shipping cartons out onto the porch.

“Thank you, Lisbeth,” Ruby said when she came back inside. “You be getting real good at that.”

“Ha,” Lis chuckled. “Anyone can open a box and put the contents onto a shelf.”

“You be fast. Take me all morning to do what you just did in ten minutes.”

It was on the tip of Lis's tongue to remind Ruby that she was a hundred years old, and Lis only thirty-five, but the words stuck in her throat. Any reminder of Ruby's age only served to make Lis sad and dread the inevitable even more.

“I'm going to go upstairs to work for a while,” Lis told Ruby.

“You finding it a good place to work, that front room?”

“It's a great place to work. The light is perfect and the view can't be beat.”

“You be okay there, then, if the cottage don't work out?”

“I could paint here, yes, I could. Would I rather be at the point? Sure. But I'm good here, Gigi. Thanks for asking.”

Ruby nodded with apparent satisfaction.

“If you need anything, just call me.” Lis turned toward the steps.

“I got Owen here today, for a while, anyway,” Ruby told her. “Though there be no telling what that boy . . .” She walked to the window and looked out. “What is that boy up to?”

“Looks like he's searching for something in the shed.” Lis stood next to Ruby at the window. On impulse, she put her arm around Ruby's waist. Who
knew how many more opportunities she'd have to tell her without words how much the older woman meant to her?

“Now, now, Lisbeth.” Ruby patted the arm that encircled her. “Don't be thinking such thoughts. It be what it be. No need to worry now.”

Lis didn't bother to ask how Ruby knew what she was thinking. It just seemed that more and more, Ruby knew. It was as much a part of her as her arthritic hands and the narrow folds of wrinkles that lined her face.

“That boy messes up my shed, there be the devil to pay.” Ruby opened the door and went outside. “Owen, you put it all back where you found it, every piece, hear?”

Lis smiled. Ruby still ruled. It settled Lis's heart.

Once in her makeshift studio, Lis moved the easel to better catch the light from the side window, and opened her palette. Soon she was lost in her own world, where color and form blended into sky and sea. Sometimes it almost seemed as if she were seeing the island as it was before anyone inhabited it, before any of the cabins had been built and no boats stood on pilings looking out at the bay. She painted what she saw, and what she did not see. She worked until the light began to fade and shadows lengthened across the floor.

“Hey, you still alive here?” Owen stood in the doorway.

“Yep. I'm good,” Lis replied without looking up from the paper on which she worked her watercolor magic.

“Wow, that's . . .” Owen paused. “That's really good. Beautiful, even. What made you think to do that, to take out all the cabins and everything?” He inspected the painting closely. “There's no road,” he said. “Did you forget to put in the road? And no store. Though I guess if you're painting from the perspective of the store, there wouldn't be . . .”

Lis glanced up at him and smiled. “It's just the way I saw it today. I don't know why.” She stood back and seemed to study her work as if she hadn't seen it before.

“Well, wrap it up. Gigi wants to have dinner early, the three of us, and she's ready. Now.”

“Gigi cooked?” Lis frowned. She had taken over most of the cooking chores since she arrived.

“I cooked.”

“You . . . ?”

Owen nodded. “And I'll thank you to keep your comments to yourself. I just figured Gigi's cooked enough meals for other people over the years. It's her turn to have someone cook for her.”

“I agree.” Lis began to clean her brushes. “Am I allowed to ask what you made?”

“Gazpacho.”

“Seriously? Does Gigi know?”

“It was her idea.” Owen turned to go downstairs and over his shoulder added, “And she asked for extra spicy.”

“GIGI, WHAT DO
you know about the people who built this store?” Lis, Ruby, and Owen sat on the back porch at dusk, Lis's old tape recorder between them on the table.

“That be my great-great grandfather Sam and my great-great-grandmother Edna. They be the ones who made the crossing, May of 1813.” Ruby sat in her rocking chair, her arms resting along the chair's arms, and stared into the streaks of color shed by the setting sun as it spread across the water.

“Why'd they side with the British and not the Americans?” Owen asked.

Ruby shrugged. “Best I recall hearing about all that, Sam's brother—I believe he was Edwin—was in the British navy. A captain or such. Sam wasn't about to go against his own flesh and blood.”

“But they were Americans by then.”

“Plenty of folks on the Eastern Shore thought it best to be loyal to the king.” She began to rock slowly. “Not be my place to say they be right or they be wrong. Didn't walk in their shoes. Would I go against my own kin?”

“But it had to be something more than who in St. Dennis sided with who,” Lis pointed out.

“I been thinking back to what I heard from the old folks, since you asked before. Seems I heard tell that some boys from St. Dennis were taken and put on a ship and told they be sailing for the king. Their kin wanted their boys back, didn't take kindly to anyone telling them that the king be the king and can do what he please. Said anyone who wouldn't fight to have them boys be brought back home got no business in St. Dennis, and if they wouldn't move out, they'd be moved. That be when folk be sent over the bridge to the island and not be left back.”

“Doesn't it bother you?” Lis asked.

“Can't change what was. No point in holding a grudge against people who had no hand in it. Seems silly to me, but like I say, I never walked in any shoes but my own.”

“If they couldn't take anything with them, how were they able to build the store?” Owen leaned forward in his chair.

Ruby told him about Sam's brother bringing supplies up from Cambridge.

“They had money, some say. Some say there were things smuggled over by some who lived in the town and didn't like that their neighbors or friends or kin be run out.”

“That makes sense,” Lis noted. She'd been making notes along with recording their conversation. “Have you given any more thought to how your family ended up owning so much of the land? The point, the store, that lot over on the western side of the island where Poppa built that cabin?”

Ruby shrugged. “If I knew, I've forgotten. Maybe it be written down somewhere, but I don't know.”

“What do you know about the three chapels?” Owen asked.

Ruby chuckled. “They be built by three pastors, men of God who couldn't get along with anyone,” she said sarcastically. “The first one built the chapel that looks over toward Sunset Beach. Jeremiah Sharpe, he was. Someone in the congregation didn't like him, started his own chapel—that be Reverend Moore. Same thing happened to him. Chapel number three be built on the opposite side of the island. Reverend
Patterson.” Ruby shook her head. “Foolish men with foolish thoughts.”

“Did you ever attend any of them?” Lis wondered.

“We went to Reverend Smith when I be small. He preached in Reverend Sharpe's old church. Then he died, and Reverend Pace came to the island, stayed a long time. When he died, Reverend Bristow came, but after him, there be no one. The chapel be boarded up, last I saw.”

“It still is,” Lis told her. “I wonder what the future holds for them. It's sort of weird, three houses of worship standing empty like that.”

“Maybe there be some use for them,” Ruby told her. “Not my place to say.”

Owen asked Ruby what it was like for her growing up on the island, and Ruby replied, “Growing up like anyplace, I suppose.” Ruby and Owen fell into a conversation about her childhood, but Lis was so tired she couldn't keep up. She rubbed her eyes, made sure the recorder was still on, and said her good nights. Tomorrow she'd play back whatever was on the recorder, but tonight she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep.

ON THURSDAY MORNING,
Lis was totally engrossed in painting and barely heard the ping of her phone. She finished the section she was working on and checked the text.

Friends getting married this weekend. Be my date?

She replied,
Day? Time? Attire?

Friday. 7 p.m. Dress you wore to gallery,
he responded.

Lis laughed. There was no way she was going to wear the same dress twice. She sent back a short text,
Sure. Thanks.
Then set aside her brushes and went into the bathroom to wash the paint off her hands and the smear on the side of her face. She changed from her old ratty shorts, which were almost threadbare from having been worn and washed so many times, and put on a knit tank dress.

“Gigi, if you don't need me for anything, I'm going into town,” Lis told her after she'd gone downstairs. She found Ruby at her table, reading the newspaper.