An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach) Page 29

  He put his arm around her shoulder, and his comfort felt like the most natural thing in the world. “So you think about what you want to come next and let me know.”

  “You mean, think about if I want you to be part of my life?” She thought about what that might mean not only to her, but to her daughters. “Yes. I do. Of course I do. I believe Brett does as well.”

  “We’ve already talked about him meeting my kids, and me meeting his daughters. You’ve met them?”

  “No, I never have.”

  “Really?”

  Maggie nodded. “We haven’t been particularly close over the years.”

  “I’m sorry. The way he talks about you, I thought . . . well, no matter.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Joe walked Maggie to her car, and they hugged.

  “You have my number,” Joe reminded her. “Please call me. Anytime. I want this to be a beginning.”

  “So do I.”

  He opened her car door, and she slid behind the wheel and turned on the ignition.

  “You’ll hear from me,” she promised. She backed out of the parking space and drove toward the exit. When she checked the rearview mirror, he was still standing where she’d left him, watching her drive away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  GRACE

  “Good morning.” Grace pushed open the bookshop’s front door.

  “Hey, early bird.” Liddy stood behind the front counter, going through some papers.

  “I thought I’d stop by before customers started coming in so I could get a few pictures for the website.” Grace swung the camera case from her shoulder and placed it on the floor. She looked around the shop and noted, “The lighting could be better.”

  “Feel free to wander around. Take whatever shots you want. I’m leaving the whole internet thing in your hands.”

  Grace scanned the front part of the store. The morning sun highlighted the faint haze on the large front window, probably the result of not having been properly cleaned in a while. Judging by the dirty floor, Grace suspected Fred hadn’t been big on housekeeping. She walked through the shelves of books, and it occurred to her that the store lacked display areas, making it hard for customers to find the books they wanted. The shelves went almost to the ceiling, too high for most people to reach while at the same time cutting off much of the natural light from the windows, and didn’t seem to follow any particular order. Funny, but she hadn’t realized how haphazard the arrangement was when she was browsing the shelves. She paused throughout the store to take photos, none of which inspired her when she reviewed them.

  “Get any good shots?” Liddy asked when Grace returned to the front of the store.

  “Not a one.”

  Liddy took off her glasses and set them on the counter next to her little handheld calculator. “Why not? I thought that’s what you came to do.”

  “There just aren’t any.”

  Liddy stared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Here. See for yourself.” Grace showed her the pictures she’d taken. Liddy watched silently as the images scrolled past. “See anything you think might attract customers?”

  “Humph.”

  “The place lacks ambience. It’s dark and uninviting. We love this place, but it’s pretty dingy. And it’s in need of a really good cleaning.” Grace looked down at the carpet that was bunched between her feet. “And frankly, this rug’s gotta go before someone trips and breaks a bone or two. I’m surprised no one’s fallen over it.”

  “Well, I know one person who has.”

  “Who? Did they sue Fred?” Grace asked.

  “Me, and no, I did not.”

  “That’s not the only problem with this place, Liddy.”

  “Do tell, since you seem to be on a roll.”

  Grace took a deep breath. “The bookcases are too high. They’re one of the reasons it’s so dark in here. And they’re not well organized.”

  “Excuse me, but we’re not the public library.”

  “You’d never know it by the way the store is set up.”

  “And you have how many years of experience in retail?” Liddy’s ire had been fully stoked.

  “None, but it doesn’t take a marketing expert to know the space isn’t utilized well,” Grace countered. “Look, it’s like being married to someone for a long time and not noticing they’re going gray or gaining weight until someone else points it out to you. You get used to things looking a certain way, and it’s okay. Until it isn’t.”

  “All right then. How would you rearrange things?” Liddy challenged.

  “I’d take up the carpet. I bet there’s a wood floor under there, but it might need to be refinished.”

  Liddy came out from behind the counter, glaring, her hands on her hips. Before she could speak, Grace continued her critique as she walked through the store.

  “I’d turn the bookcases around so they’re facing the front of the store. Adult fiction in the very front—bestsellers on a table there in the center—children’s books all the way in the back.” Grace knew she was dumping a lot on Liddy, but she was on a roll. “These chairs are perfectly awful. Take Mom up on her offer to give you those chairs she isn’t using. You could have story hour here. Maybe get a small rug you can unroll just for story time. You know, like a magic carpet?”

  Liddy acknowledged the suggestion with a sort of grunt Grace took to be agreement, though her hands were still riding on her hips.

  “And over here . . .” Grace pointed to the wall of shelves on the left side of the shop. “The space is not utilized well. If you moved those bookcases over there”—she pointed toward the opposite wall—“you could have a little coffee bar. Nothing fancy, but just a place where your customers can pick up a little something while they look over their selections or chat with friends.” She gestured for Liddy to follow her to the back window. “You have a beautiful view out there. If that wild hedge was trimmed, you’d be able to see the harbor. I bet if you put in a patio, nothing expensive, you could have book club meetings out there in nice weather.”

  “Huh.” Liddy tried to open the back door, but it was stuck. “Probably hasn’t been opened in years,” she grumbled.

  “Let me help.” Grace put her shoulder into it, but it still wouldn’t budge.

  “Do you need a hand there?” a male voice called from the front of the store.

  Grace turned around in time to see a tall dark-haired man around her age make his way around one of the ill-placed shelves. He had a three-day scruff of beard and wore a blue T-shirt and cargo pants. The first word that popped into her mind when she looked at him was pirate.

  “Damn door’s stuck.” Liddy stepped aside while the man wrestled with the door for several seconds before it opened with a groan.

  Dried leaves and the ancient corpses of dead bugs danced in through the doorway on a light breeze.

  “And now there’s a damned mess,” Liddy complained.

  “You did want it open, right?” The man appeared to be fighting a grin. He winked at Grace. “I can close it back up again if . . .”

  “Stop it.” Liddy gave his arm a light smack. “You always were a smart aleck.”

  “I think you need a little WD-40 on those hinges, and it should be okay.” He knelt to get a closer look. “I might have some in my truck.”

  He rose and started toward the front of the store.

  “Got a broom in there, too?” Liddy asked.

  “You’re on your own there, Ms. Lydia.” He kept walking and left the store.

  Grace went out through the still-open door and walked around the grounds behind the bookstore. Judging by the overgrown hedge, the area hadn’t been maintained any more recently than the interior of the shop. But like the shop itself, it had possibilities. A few flower beds, a patio large enough for maybe ten or twelve chairs, and it would be perfect. Grace walked toward the door, then noticed the man had returned and was working on the hinges. She stood outside, watching him admin
ister the oil.

  “So how’s that cranky old grandfather of yours?” Liddy asked him.

  “Old and cranky,” he replied. “That’s never going to change.”

  “How’s his health?”

  “He’s hanging in there.” He stood up and noticed Grace standing outside.

  “Linc, you ever meet Grace Flynn? She and her sister used to spend summers at her grandmother’s house over on Cottage.”

  “Our paths may have crossed when we were kids.” He turned to Grace, and the only thought in her head was that his eyes were the color of chocolate. Deep and rich and delicious. “Nice to meet you, Grace Flynn.”

  “Same,” she managed to say.

  He wiped his hands on a red bandanna he’d pulled from his back pocket, then held the door for Liddy. “You want to try it out?”

  Liddy gestured for Grace to step inside—“Just in case he’s not as good as he thinks he is”—and closed the door. It reopened with ease. “Thank you, Linc. Put it on my tab. Now that you’re here, I want you to scrap the plans for the carriage house we talked about, and take a look around this place for me. My decorator here”—she nodded in Grace’s direction—“thinks we need a little work done.”

  He glanced around the shop. “You really needed to call in a decorator to tell you that?”

  Liddy rolled her eyes. “Grace, why don’t you tell him what you told me? Maybe he’ll have some ideas about moving stuff around.” Liddy walked toward the front of the store.

  “Don’t you want to . . . ,” Grace began when she realized Liddy had removed herself from the conversation.

  “No, I do not. You two decide what needs to be done and let me know.” Liddy continued on to the front counter.

  “Oh. Well.” Grace felt slightly flustered. She’d offered her thoughts about the shop to Liddy because Liddy had asked. She hadn’t expected her observations to be taken as anything more than suggestions. “I mentioned that I thought the bookshelves should be repositioned—see how they block the light? Makes the place look dark and”—she lowered her voice—“uninviting. A little creepy, frankly.”

  “Like you wouldn’t want to be locked in here alone after dark,” Linc said, and she laughed.

  “Exactly like that.” She walked through the comments she’d made earlier to Liddy, Linc occasionally nodding but not saying much beyond a few yeahs and okays. When they got to the wall where she’d suggested Liddy consider a coffee bar, he pulled a retractable tape measure from his back pocket and began to measure out the space.

  “You’re thinking maybe a counter here and a place behind it for one person—no matter what we do, you’ll never have room for more than one person there—a sink, a coffee maker, supplies, a couple of shelves. Anything else?” he looked up and asked after he’d walked the space, measuring here and there.

  “You’ll have to ask Liddy. It’s her shop.”

  “She seemed to be handing the renovation off to you.” He grinned, and the pirate image flashed back into Grace’s head. “Which is probably the best thing she could do. I’ve done some remodeling for Mrs. Bryant before, and left to her own devices, she’ll change her mind sixty times. She’s had me working on plans for that old carriage house of hers for the past four months. We’re on our third set of blueprints.”

  “And now we’re putting that project on hold,” Liddy called. “Just about everything I have went into buying this place, so the carriage house will have to wait. But I like the idea of income property, so I will ask you to take a look upstairs and see what we could do to make apartments on the second and third floors. Got time to take a look?”

  “I don’t right now, but I can stop back later in the week.”

  “Just let me know when.” Liddy leaned on the counter. “Think you can come up with some plans for this place?” She waved her hand around the shop.

  “It won’t take much. Your decorator here has some good ideas. Easy to implement, not much in materials. You’re going to end up paying mostly for my time and some paint,” he told her as he walked to the front of the shop.

  “And whatever you’ll need to make the coffee bar,” Grace reminded him as she followed along.

  He rubbed his chin. “I think I might have something back home we can use for that. I’ll work up a plan and drop it off.”

  “Don’t take too long,” Liddy told him. “I want to get this place done by July Fourth.”

  Linc shook his head. “Not gonna happen. I’m booked solid for the next month. If you need it done sooner, you need to call in someone else.”

  Liddy looked annoyed but shook her head. “I’ll wait.”

  “It’s up to you,” he said.

  “Shelby and Son’s been doing for me for most of my life. I said I’d wait.”

  “Just want to make sure you understand you have options.” He took a step toward the door.

  “So you’re a contractor, then.” He had an easy way about him that Grace was drawn to. He was also easy on the eyes. Very easy, pirate or no.

  “Most of the time.”

  She had to ask, “What do you do the rest of the time?”

  “Fish.” He smiled again. “Sometimes I sell to a couple of the restaurants in town. Depends on what’s running and whether or not they’re biting.”

  The front door opened, and a woman in her midforties entered. Grace recognized her as one of the shop’s sales staff, Evelyn Marshall.

  “Morning, Liddy. Carl told me to expect you to be here. He told me about your arrangement. I’m thrilled. This place desperately needs new blood.” The woman smiled at Grace to acknowledge her, then said to Linc, “We had some of that cod you dropped off the other day. It was delicious. Thank you. My husband really enjoyed it.”

  “Good. Tell him I’ll be going out again sometime next week, and I’ll stop by to see how he’s doing.”

  “Fishing was always Matt’s thing. Since his accident, he hasn’t been able to take the boat out.” The sadness reached Evelyn’s eyes. “Damned drunk driver.”

  “You tell him I’ll be happy to take him out with me as soon as he’s up to it.” Linc patted her on the arm. To Liddy, he said, “I’ll get back to you soon.”

  “Thanks, Linc. And thanks for getting that back door open.”

  “Sure.” He smiled at Grace. “See you, Grace.”

  The three women watched him leave, then Liddy sighed. “If only I were twenty years younger.”

  “Twenty?” Grace smirked.

  “Okay, twenty-five to thirty.” Liddy nodded.

  “Linc got that back door open?” Evelyn asked. “That thing’s been stuck for as long as I’ve been working here. I’m going to take a look.”

  “Help yourself.” Liddy moved the stack of papers she’d been working on earlier. “Now that Evelyn’s here, I think I’ll take these back into the office. Gracie, want to join me?”

  “Thanks, but I need to get over to the general store. I told Mom I’d pick up a few things for her.”

  “How’s that going? With your mother.”

  Grace shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. I love my mom, but honestly, this thing with Joe. She told you she met him for lunch last week, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, she’s talked to him on the phone several times since then.” Grace paused and looked out the window. “Did she tell you she wants to invite him and his kids for the Fourth of July? For the parade and the picnic and everything else?”

  “She mentioned it. I take it you’re not happy about including him?”

  “I hate that I’m always the family bitch. Natalie’s thrilled. Even Daisy is excited to meet cousins, though she has no idea what that means. Honestly, I don’t know if I can handle it.” She picked up a book that was left on the counter and leafed through it absently.

  “What is it exactly that you can’t handle, Grace?”

  “The whole thing. I hate we never knew about him until now. That she kept this deep dark secret all these years. And I hate that Dad never knew
.”

  “Grace, I love you, sweetie, but that’s between your father and your mother to work out in the next life. It has nothing to do with you.” Grace opened her mouth to protest, but Liddy cut her off. “And if I may say, it’s really none of your business. But everyone who’s met Joe says he’s a really great guy.”

  “Who’s everyone?”

  “Your mom. Brett.” Liddy came around from behind the counter.

  “Brett? You mean the police chief?” Grace frowned. “Why would he . . .” It was as if lightning had struck her brain. Her jaw visibly dropped.

  “Oh my God. The cop? Seriously? My mom and the cop . . . ?”

  Liddy squeezed her eyes shut. “Whoops.”

  Chapter Twenty

  NATALIE

  Daisy burst through the back door, her hands filled with shells. Natalie followed, towels hanging off her shoulder.

  “We were waiting,” Daisy announced to Grace, who was loading the morning’s breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.

  “Waiting for what, pumpkin?” Grace asked.

  “She means wading,” Natalie explained as she hung the damp towels over the back of a chair.

  “That’s what I said.” Daisy held up one bare foot. “A shell scratched my toe, and I bleeded. And we had sand on our feet, so we couldn’t put our shoes on.”

  Grace leaned over as far as she could to inspect the cut. “Yes, I see. Need a Band-Aid?”

  Daisy nodded. “One with Olaf.”

  “I don’t know if Nana has any Olaf Band-Aids. You might have to settle for a plain one.” Natalie went into the powder room and came back empty handed. “I thought Mom might have left a box in there, but I didn’t see one. We’ll have to ask her when she comes in.”

  “Comes in from where?” Grace asked.

  “She’s out front talking to someone in a police car. When I first saw it parked out there, I got scared that something happened while I was gone. But she’s just talking.”

  “Police car?” Grace went to the front window and peered out. “Yup, it’s him, all right.”