Authors: Mariah Stewart
“What scandal?”
As if he didn’t know, as if he hadn’t seen the tabloid headlines in the market just that morning. He’d tried to write off those long-ago summers, and rarely, if ever, permitted himself to dwell on what he’d had then that he couldn’t have now. Which was not to say that he’d forgotten, or that his subconscious didn’t bring her back in dreams now and then, particularly after seeing her face—once so familiar—on TV or on those occasions when he took himself to the theater and sat in the dark, watching her, bigger than life, on the silver screen. He may have been able to convince everyone else that she was a forgotten chapter in the
book of his life, but he knew
that
for the lie it was. He suspected that Steffie might know it, too.
“What scandal?” Steffie snorted. “Where have you been for the past week?”
“I’ve been busy,” he said. “Spaying dogs and cats, setting broken bones, worming puppies, and picking up strays on the highway. Nothing important.”
“Dallas’s husband—could be her ex-husband by now—made a sex tape with two young chickies and it’s all over the Internet. I read it was the single most downloaded video last week.”
“Did you watch it?”
“Me? Hell no. That is just so not my thing.” The note of disgust in her voice was loud and clear. “Ugh. How could you even ask me that?”
“I guess that’s tough on her, huh?” He didn’t know what else to say.
“She doesn’t look any worse for it, though, I gotta say.” Steffie sighed. “Grant, she was so nice. She said I’d grown up to be …”
She paused, and Grant asked, “You grew up to be what?”
“Gorgeous. She said she thought I was gorgeous.” She sighed again. “Dallas MacGregor thinks I’m gorgeous.”
“Yeah, well, she doesn’t know you like the rest of us do.”
“You jerk.” Steffie laughed. “Leave it to my big brother to burst my bubble.”
“All right. You’re okay.”
“I’m not just
okay
, buster. I’m
gorgeous
. Who are you to argue with Dallas MacGregor?”
“No one, apparently.”
“My point.”
“Listen, Stef …”
“I think she grows even more beautiful as she gets older, you know? Even without being all made up the way you see her in the magazines or on TV, she’s just so beautiful. That long pale hair and those eyes. Her eyes really are lavender-colored, you know that? I guess she doesn’t need all that—”
“Good for her.” Grant cut her off, remembering all too well the exact shade of Dallas’s celebrated eyes. As if anyone who’d stared into them could forget. “Look, I have a—”
“You can judge for yourself,” Steffie told him. “You’ll be seeing her soon enough.”
“What do you mean, I’ll be seeing her …?”
“Did I leave out the part about her little boy wanting a dog and Paige telling them about the rescue shelter?”
“Yeah. You were too busy remembering how gorgeous you are.”
“Well, she didn’t seem to think it was a good idea, but he looks like the type of kid who knows how to get around his mom, so I’m guessing you’ll be seeing her sooner than later.”
“Great. Thanks for the heads-up. Gotta go, kid.”
Grant disconnected the call. He hadn’t seen Dallas since he was eighteen, except on the screen, both big and small, and he wasn’t sure he was in any big hurry to see her now. At least, not in the flesh. He’d be hard-pressed to admit it, but he’d seen every movie she’d ever made, going alone to see those first films in which she’d had small parts mostly to prove to himself that she couldn’t possibly be that good an actress
and to reassure himself that she’d only gotten those roles because of her looks. Surely she’d be just a flash in the pan, and she’d be back in St. Dennis one of these summers, her tail between her legs, and he’d be waiting for her. He
had
waited for her, for longer than he wanted to admit.
As time went on, and she proved to him—and to everyone else—that she was more than just a pretty face, he’d been drawn back to the theater every time she had a new release. He’d sit in the dark, a hollow pit in his stomach, as he watched her, so much larger than life, and heard her voice, which sounded exactly as he remembered it. He’d even bought all of her movies, first on video, then on DVD, and sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep, he’d watch them, even now. Not as an obsessed fan, but as someone who’d truly loved her once, when she had belonged only to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what could have been. He considered that his sad little secret.
He was grateful for Steffie’s call. He’d have been flustered if he’d run into Dallas on the street, and it would have been awkward. He often wondered what he’d say to her, should the day come when their paths crossed again, and as many times as he’d thought about the inevitability of that happening, he never was able to even fantasize how that conversation would go.
“Dr. Wyler, Evelyn Jenkins is on the phone.” Joanie, his receptionist, burst through the door. “Her old shepherd was hit by a car over on Canal Road and she’s panicked. She thinks his leg is broken and she doesn’t know what to do.”
Reality pulled the plug on his fantasy, and he snapped into action.
“Tell her to keep him quiet, not to move him, and I’ll be there in”—Grant stole a look at the clock on the wall—“four minutes.” He grabbed his emergency bag and hurried out through the back door. “Go ahead and do the exam on the retriever that’s in the waiting room. It’s a well checkup so there shouldn’t be any urgency there. I’ll be back as soon as I can …”
Diary ~
What a lovely summer it’s turning out to be! The weather is perfect, the Inn at Sinclair’s Point is doing record business, and tourists continue to flock to St. Dennis. Though I must admit that there have been days when we—that is, the regular early-morning crowd that gathers at Cuppachino—have arrived to find that our table has been hijacked by tourists! Carlo says he tries to keep the table clear for us, but sometimes he’s so busy that he doesn’t notice that it’s been taken until it’s too late. The bottom line is that we just have to get into town sooner and stake our claim if we want that front window table. Which of course we do—how else could we keep up with everything that’s happening on Charles Street?
Speaking of happenings: Berry’s grandniece, Dallas, is visiting with her son, who is—anyone with eyes can see—the absolute apple of Berry’s eye. I saw them in Cuppachino the other day, and I must say, Berry’s pride in her family is justified. Dallas is still the sweet girl she was when she first came to town—she’s promised me an exclusive interview for the
Gazette.
The sad truth is that Dallas’s sorry excuse for a husband made an S-E-X tape with some young chickies and it’s been all over the Internet and has been downloaded about a million times! I can’t bring myself
to watch it, though Berry says she did to make sure it was, in fact, Emilio, whose real name, rumor now has it, is actually
EUGENE
!
Berry says the divorce is imminent—it’s merely a matter of sorting out the details and the judge signing his name. If Dallas is hoping to recover from this sorry state of affairs, she’s come to the right place. I happen to know one eligible young man who’s carried a torch for her for years. But if she’s interested, she’s going to need to stake her claim quickly. She’s not the only former St. Dennis girl who’s come back following a heartbreak who has a history with the young man in question. Of course, I made Berry fully aware of the situation. She knows what she must do
.
You know, that woman is eighty-one if she’s a day, and she looks ten years younger. Which would make her my age. Except that I know for a fact that she isn’t. I’m wondering if she’s found some sort of secret the rest of us don’t know. Like directions to the Fountain of Youth. Only half kidding, but if she had found such a thing, surely she’d have wanted to look younger than seventy-one. I know I would!
~ Grace ~
“How come people are so mean to animals sometimes?” Paige leaned on the counter and watched her father examine one of two kittens that someone had placed in a paper bag and tossed out the window of a moving pickup. Fortunately, a young boy on a bicycle saw one of them fall from the bag and had the presence of mind not only to get the license plate number of the truck, but to gather up the bag and its frightened little contents and pedal directly to the vet clinic, the bag safely carried in the basket of his bike.
“Why are people sometimes mean to other people?” Grant completed his exam and passed the kitten to Paige. “She looks okay. Nothing’s broken. She’s probably a little sore, though, so hold her gently, and see if you can get her to eat something.”
Paige cradled the kitten in her hands. Almost immediately, the kitten snuggled close to her body and mewed softly.
“But why would someone do something like that, Dad? If they didn’t want the kittens, why didn’t they
just bring them to the shelter instead of trying to hurt them?”
“Baby, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be the smartest man in the world. People do stupid, thoughtless things every day, and very often there’s no understanding why.” Grant knelt down and picked up the other kitten, who protested loudly. “Oh, are we hurt or are we just mad at the world? Let’s take a look at that back leg …”
“Well, I’m glad Chief Beck arrested the guy who was driving the truck,” Paige said. “I hope he puts him in jail forever.”
“Forever
might be a little longer than the law allows, but I was glad to see Beck took it as seriously as he did.” Grant gently felt the tiny animal’s leg. “This little guy might not be as lucky as his sister. I think I’m going to want an X-ray here. Paige, will you go out front and get Mimi and ask her to come in here and give me a hand?”
“I can give you a hand,” she replied. “I’ve watched Mimi take a lot of X-rays. I can do it.”
“I know, sweetie. But right now I want you to hold on to that little one. See how she’s calmed down since you picked her up?”
He looked up at her and smiled. She wanted so badly to help, to please him, so that he’d let her stay beyond the summer. He saw her resolve in everything she did. He’d tried to explain to her that the decision wasn’t his to make, that her mother was expecting her back in Camden Lakes at the end of the summer for the start of the new school year. If it were up to him, she’d stay in St. Dennis and go to school here, but his ex-wife, Krista, insisted that in this time of big
changes in her life, she needed the comfort of the familiar. Therefore—in Krista’s opinion—it would be best for Paige to return to her own room in the home she’d grown up in, in a neighborhood where she knew everyone, and attend her old school, with the kids she’d known since first grade.
Grant couldn’t say with any certainty what was best. All he knew was that his daughter wasn’t ready to deal with her mother’s new relationship, and that she wanted to stay with him in St. Dennis. While he wasn’t one to encourage avoidance, he did think that giving Paige a little more time to adjust wasn’t likely to hurt anyone.
“I saw her today,” Paige told him from the doorway. The tone of her voice left no doubt that her words were meant to give him a poke, a small way of retaliating for not giving in to her and letting her help with the X-rays.
“Saw who?”
“Your old girlfriend.”
He refused to take the bait. “I had a lot of girlfriends in my day. Which one are you referring to?”
“Dallas MacGregor.”
“Oh, right,” Grant said with what he hoped would come across as cool nonchalance. “Steffie told me she was in Scoop this afternoon.”
Paige snorted. “Steffie told everyone in town that she was in Scoop today. I think Steffie was more excited than you are. She’s really pretty. REALLY pretty.” Grant knew Paige was waiting for a reaction. “Even prettier than she is in the movies.”
“Dallas always was a pretty girl.”
“Well, you’ll see for yourself.” She smirked.
“I’m sure I’ll run into her sooner or later while she’s here.”
“It’s gonna be sooner.”
He glanced up at her. She was still smirking.
“Her little boy wants a dog and I told them about the shelter. So, sooner, not later.”
“Steffie did mention that. That’s good. We have lots of dogs to choose from. Maybe they’ll find one they like and give it a good home.” He pointed to the door. “Get Mimi, please.”
He’d already reconciled himself to the fact that she might show up at the shelter one of these days. Well, that would be okay. And if she wanted a dog for her son, a shelter animal was a good choice. It wasn’t any big deal.
Oh, who was he kidding? His heart was beating a little faster at the mere thought of her being in the same town.
Good to know he’d matured so much since he was fifteen, he thought drily. Though if his heart was the only part of his anatomy that had an involuntary reaction when he saw her, he should probably count his blessings.
“You wanted me, Grant?” Mimi Ryan downed the last bit of coffee from a cardboard cup and tossed it into the trash. “Paige said something about a young cat with a broken leg?”
He nodded. “I’m not sure it’s broken, but it’s pretty tender. I think we need to take a look.”
“I’ll take care of it.” She pulled a pair of glasses from the case that rode in her back pocket and slipped them on. “Ginger Messick called to find out when she could pick up her dachshund.”
“I’m going to want to keep him one more day.”
“She’s only going to be home till six.” Mimi pointed to the clock. It was 5:55. “You go on and call her. Janelle’s still here. We can take care of the kitten.”
“Thanks. Let me know what’s what with our little friend here.” Grant handed over the injured animal and went into his office.
The Messicks’ dachshund had had a tumor removed the day before and needed another day of peace and quiet, something Grant knew it wouldn’t get in the Messicks’ home. With four young boys and an equal number of girls, he suspected that no one got much peace under that roof. He made his phone call, then went into the break room to grab a cup of coffee. The pot was empty, so he made another. They had hours tonight until eight, so he knew the brew wouldn’t go to waste. He sat at the table, his legs stretched out in front of him, and remembered why he wanted to buy new chairs. The ones they had were damned uncomfortable. He took a small notebook out of his pocket and started to write a reminder, but found he already had done so almost three weeks earlier.