Rose Harbor in Bloom
I started to leave when Mark stopped me. “I feel I might owe you an apology,” he said, his hands tightening around the grips on his crutches.
He might?
I clenched my teeth before I could tell him I felt I was due an entire series of apologies. Mark had been brusque, short-tempered, ungrateful, and downright inhospitable. By all that was right I shouldn’t give a hoot if he ate dinner or not and probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for Rover.
“I appreciate you finding me in my workroom,” he murmured, as if he found it difficult to say the words. They seemed to be glued to his tongue, as though he wasn’t accustomed to making amends. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.”
I clenched my jaw tighter this time. This accident should be a lesson for Mark to keep his business door unlocked. What kind of businessman was he, anyway? “You need to thank Rover for that.”
Rover raised his head and looked expectantly up at Mark as though willingly accepting his gratitude. He was a forgiving kind of dog, I noted, whereas I didn’t quite meet his level.
“I brought you a salad and some squash soup,” I said, seeing that the apology made him so uncomfortable.
Mark frowned. “How’d you know that was my favorite soup?”
“I didn’t. I just happened to have some in the freezer. Would you like me to heat it up for you? Or would you rather have the salad?”
“I’ll take the soup.”
“Okay.” I saw that he had a microwave, and opening a cupboard, I found a bowl and heated up the soup.
“You don’t need to do this, you know.”
I was well aware of that but didn’t acknowledge the statement. “I’ll put the salad in the refrigerator for later.”
“Keep it out if you would,” he instructed.
“Okay.” Then, feeling that I’d worn out my welcome, I reached for Rover’s leash. “I’ll leave you to your dinner.”
He pulled out the kitchen chair and sat down. “You know this broken leg means it might be some time before I’m able to get back to work on your rose garden.”
That went without saying. “I figured as much.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Me, too.”
For the second time, Rover and I started for the front door.
“Thank you, Jo Marie,” Mark called after me. “For everything.”
Appreciation. From Mark?
I had to admit it felt good to have him say it. He wasn’t as bad an ogre as I’d thought him earlier. The pain in his leg must have been horrific, and that had caused him to be such a grump.
“Would you like me to check up on you in the morning?” I asked. It would be late morning, as I was bound to be busy with providing breakfast and checking in guests before then.
“No,” he said flatly.
I couldn’t keep from smiling. Everything was back to normal.
When I returned to the inn, I found Kent and Julie Shivers had returned.
“We’re waiting for our friends to pick us up,” Julie explained.
“Oh, I thought you’d already left for dinner.”
“No, Oliver and Annie took us for a ride around the cove, and I pointed out where Kent asked me to be his wife.” Her voice went soft, with romance gleaming from her eyes.
“How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t propose down by the waterfront,” Kent insisted. “We were at the movie theater—”
“We most certainly were not,” Julie said, cutting him off. “A woman remembers these things, and we were standing where the gazebo is now. Why else would Annie have the renewal of our vows take place there?”
Kent crossed his arms. “I distinctly remember getting up my nerve to propose while watching Steve McQueen.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “We never even went to the movies in Cedar Cove.”
“Fine. If that’s what you want to believe, then it must have been with some other girl.”
Julie’s gaze narrowed. “I always expected you met someone else … some girl …”
“Oh, for the love of Pete,” Kent said and exhaled sharply. “There’s no talking to you, woman.”
With that, he left the kitchen and marched down the hallway to their room, slamming the door.
Julie flinched. “I apologize on behalf of my husband,” she said, clearly disgruntled.
I found it interesting that these two people who had managed to maintain a healthy marriage for fifty years could be at almost constant odds. When Annie had told me about her grandparents, there’d been a gleam in her eyes as she spoke of their love and affection for each other. Annie said she hoped that when she married she could have the same kind of loving relationship with her own husband that her grandparents shared.
“I believe I’ll wait for our friends in the living room,” Julie said, as if nothing had happened and Kent was simply resting awhile before dinner.
“Would you care for some tea?” I asked, playing along. Although Julie did her best to hide it, I could see she was upset.
“Yes, that would be very nice,” she said, and with a dignified walk made her way into the other room.
I brought her tea. “Where are Annie and Oliver?” I set the cup down on the end table.
“They went out themselves. Oliver is such a dear, dear boy. I’d always hoped …” She let the rest fade.
“You hoped?” I prodded, wondering if she was thinking the same thing I was regarding those two.
“I’d hoped that Annie might be romantically interested in Oliver,” Julie admitted shyly. “I’d never say anything, seeing how much she seems to dislike him. I have no idea why she feels the way she does. And now that she’s broken her engagement to that car salesman, I guess there’s hope.”
Based on Annie’s reaction to Oliver, I tended to think there really wasn’t much of a chance of anything romantic happening.
“I met him once, you know,” Julie continued. “His name escapes me at the moment. He was handsome enough, I suppose, but there was something about him that put me off. Something about his eyes.”
From what Annie had told me, Julie had hit the nail on the proverbial head. Annie’s fiancé—er, former fiancé—did seem to have a wandering eye. Although it’d been difficult, I felt she’d made a wise choice, and from what I was hearing I wasn’t the only one.
“He was so sure of himself, cocky-like. Kent said I was imagining things, but I knew all along that salesman didn’t have a clue how to make my granddaughter happy.”
“Have you said anything to Annie about your feelings?” I asked her.
“No. Kent didn’t think it was a good idea. He said I’d look like an interfering old woman, and I suppose he’s right.”
It was nice to know Julie thought Kent was right about something, I mused, holding back a smile.
“We’ve interrupted your dinner,” Julie said. “Please don’t feel you need to keep me company. Our friends will be here any minute.” She held up the china cup and motioned toward the kitchen. “Now, go. Enjoy your meal.”
The truth was I’d completely forgotten about my salad. I’d been preoccupied by Mark and then by Kent and Julie. I suspected that Julie wasn’t in the mood to chat, and so I returned to the kitchen. Rover was curled up in his bed there asleep, exhausted from the events of the day. Good dog that he was, he would remain there until bedtime and then dutifully follow me into my bedroom.
Dinner had lost its appeal, and after a single bite, I decided to save the salad for my lunch the following afternoon. After covering it with plastic wrap, I set it inside the refrigerator.
The Shivers’s friends arrived, and Kent came out of the bedroom; within minutes the two couples were out the door. It appeared their squabble was forgotten.
The house was quiet once again. I went to my room and sat down in front of the television with my knitting. As my fingers worked the yarn of the afghan my mind whirled with memories of Paul and the phone call with Lieutenant Colonel Milford.
&nb
sp; It was during quiet moments like this that I missed Paul the most. I hadn’t felt his presence for several weeks now, and I longed to feel once again that he was with me. I hungered for those special times when it seemed I could close my eyes and pretend that he was sitting close by and the two of us were content just to be together. Words weren’t necessary. Several times now I’d felt Paul’s presence with me. This sense was so real I was convinced I could reach out and touch him. When I’d first taken over the inn, Paul had come to tell me I would heal here. It was his reassurance and love that gave me the courage to move forward in life. I’d never told anyone about these visits, if, indeed, that was what they were, for fear of what everyone would think. Frankly, I didn’t care if this feeling, this sense of closeness, was strictly in my imagination. It comforted me. It soothed my aching heart. Paul might be dead to the world, but he remained very much alive to me.
Chapter 15
Annie didn’t like this one bit. She’d been trapped into having dinner with Oliver. Her grandparents were going out with friends for the evening, and naturally Oliver had immediately suggested that the two of them do the same. Although she’d tried to get out of it, first Oliver and then her grandparents had insisted she dine with him.
“Thanks, but I’ve got plenty to do before the family get-together.” That was a small white lie, but three against one wasn’t the least bit fair. She’d seen to just about everything and was satisfied that the day would go as smoothly as possible.
“Oh, Annie, you’ve worked far too hard as it is,” her grandmother had gone on to say. “Let Oliver treat you to dinner.”
“Yes, let me,” Oliver had chimed in. He’d flashed her a cocky grin. He knew exactly what he was doing and that she would do almost anything in order to avoid spending time with him. It seemed like he went out of his way to make her as uncomfortable as possible. Oliver Sutton hadn’t changed at all.
“I … I …” She’d fumbled for an excuse, but neither her grandparents nor Oliver would hear of it. So now she was trapped.
Oliver suggested they dine at DD’s on the Cove, and she readily agreed, eager to get this evening over with as quickly as possible. They were led to a table on the deck overlooking the cove, and despite her reluctance, the sun bouncing off the water helped put her mind at rest. It was rare to have such a lovely evening this early in the year.
Sailboats moored at the marina bobbed gently in the water, and multicolored flower baskets hanging from streetlights dotted the water’s edge. The scene was worthy of a postcard.
“What looks good to you?” Oliver asked, scanning the menu.
Annie had been absorbed with the scenery and hadn’t bothered to look. “I’m not sure yet.” She was far too tense to be hungry. “I’ll probably just order an appetizer.” The minute the words were out she froze, certain Oliver would make some derogatory comment about her weight or something else that would fluster or embarrass her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, after studying her expression.
“I was waiting for you to say something sarcastic,” she returned, stiffening as she did so.
“Why would I do that?” He seemed completely relaxed. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his legs. When they’d first arrived he’d ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc. All Annie wanted was water.
“You look for ways to put me on edge,” she insisted.
“Do I?”
“You’re doing it right now, turning everything I say back at me in the form of another question.”
“Really?”
She glared at him. This was all one big game to him. “You just did it again.” Oh, how she’d enjoy wiping that silly grin off his face.
The waitress returned to take their dinner order. Oliver ordered the special, Copper River salmon, which Annie had recently learned was available only a few weeks each year and considered a delicacy. For her part she asked for a bowl of the clam chowder and a side salad.
Once the waitress wrote down their order, she left. Annie gripped hold of the water glass and averted her gaze, waiting for Oliver to comment on the kiss they’d shared earlier. Even now she couldn’t imagine how she’d let that happen. It embarrassed her to think about it. It humiliated her even more to admit how much she’d enjoyed it.
“Your grandparents are a hoot,” he commented instead, sipping his wine.
Looking up, Annie held his gaze. She couldn’t disagree with him more. “They fight like cats and dogs.”
“Of course they do.”
“Of course?” Annie couldn’t believe her ears. She’d been shocked at the way they quibbled over every little thing. If one closed the window, the other opened it. Their behavior was contrary to everything she remembered about them. If this was how they felt about each other, Annie marveled that they’d managed to stay married.
“Don’t you see?” Oliver asked.
“See what?” Annie demanded.
“Your grandparents are so comfortable with each other that they can say exactly what they feel. I find that amazing and wonderful.”
“Wonderful?” Annie echoed. She’d found it utterly disconcerting. Her childhood memories were full of the loving ways they’d looked after each other, and her grandmother laughing at her grandfather’s jokes. They used to hold hands in church and share a hymnal. Now all they seemed to do was squabble.
“Annie, my dear, dear Annie,” he said gently, as if speaking to a child, “your grandparents love each other deeply.”
“How can you say that after what just happened?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The tour we took them on of Cedar Cove.” Oliver had been in the same car as she; surely he’d heard the same thing she had. “My grandparents couldn’t find one thing they agreed on. Grandma insists Grandpa proposed on the waterfront, and he claims it was while they were at the movies.”
“Does it matter?”
“To them it does. You should have heard them when we got back to the inn. Grandpa went to the room and Grandma pouted in the living room. Honestly, Oliver, I’m afraid of what might happen at the renewal of vows. I’m afraid Grandma might say ‘I won’t’ instead of ‘I do.’ ”
Oliver appeared to have no such qualms and laughed softly.
“This isn’t funny.” Everything was one big joke to him. On the other hand, Annie was genuinely concerned.
“Everything will work out, Annie, so stop worrying.”
She wished it was that easy. “Do you mind if we change the subject?”
Oliver lowered his wineglass to the table. “Sure, no problem. Tell me about you and Lenny.”
Naturally he would suggest the topic she least wanted to discuss. “Lenny is off-limits.”
“O-k-a-y,” he said, dragging out the word. “Tell me about you.”
“I’d rather we talked about you,” Annie said, feeling good about turning the subject away from herself.
Oliver sat up straighter. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Annie didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of this sooner. Of course Oliver would want to talk about himself. And that suited her just fine. The less attention focused on her and her life, the better.
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
Annie’s mind whirled with possible ideas. “You mentioned earlier that you intend to travel to the South Pacific. How long do you plan to be away?”
“A year.”
Well, some people might be able to do that, but then there were others, far more responsible, who needed to work. Oliver always had been something of a free spirit.
“And what do you plan to do for a whole year?” She didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm.
“Travel.”
He made it sound as if that was understood. “I suppose you’re planning to hitchhike.” How bohemian of him. How predictable.
“Actually, I’ve reserved a van.”
Australia and New Zealand. Even as a kid she’d been fascinated by the two countries. While engaged to Len
ny she’d suggested they honeymoon in New Zealand, but Lenny had quickly put the squash on that. He wanted a Caribbean cruise, and the difference in costs was dramatic enough for her to agree. But, oh, how she would have loved to see the South Pacific.
“You’re smiling,” Oliver said, cutting into her musings.
“I’ve always been curious about Australia and New Zealand,” she murmured, paying far more attention to him now. “What made you decide to travel there?”
“Same as you, I guess. Curiosity. I’ve been fascinated with that part of the world from the time I was a teenager.”
“Why now?”
“Why not?”
Fair question.
“I could put it off,” he elaborated, “but I’m young and single, and I thought if I don’t make this happen now it never will.”
“Are you traveling alone?”
“A couple of friends were going with me, but Alex can only afford to take three months and Steve has to go back after six, so we’re flying into New Zealand first and then heading over to the Cook Islands.”
Annie remembered reading about the islands. It was the natives from the Cook Islands who had settled New Zealand. She’d written a report on this island nation while in the eighth grade. Funny that she would remember that now. “From what I understand, the Cook Islands are fascinating,” she said, and was surprised to realize she’d spoken aloud. Amazingly beautiful black pearls were said to be found there.
“Come with us.”
Despite herself, Annie laughed. “Me and three guys. That would be awkward.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Oliver countered. “You’d be with me and you’d love it.”
No doubt she would enjoy the traveling, but if she was headed down under, it wouldn’t be with Oliver. Annie was saved from having to answer by the waitress, who delivered their meal.
They were both quiet for several moments while they ate, although Annie’s head continued to spin. When they did pick up the conversation, Oliver did the majority of the talking. He talked more about the trip and how he’d planned and saved for years in order to make it a reality instead of a dream. Annie couldn’t help being impressed with the thoughtful care and planning he’d put into this venture. She’d been wrong to think this was a spur-of-the-moment decision and he was taking off on a whim.