Chapter Nine
Chrissie, you best be getting ready to leave,” Ruby called up the steps. “Jared be along anytime soon.”
“I just need one more minute,” Chrissie called back before ducking into the bathroom and taking one last look.
The hairdresser Lis’d taken her to the night before had worked a color miracle. Chrissie had never imagined her hair, which she’d always worn pulled back in a ponytail, could look as good as it did. The highlights were subtle, blending and shading different tones of blond, and the cut, while not drastic, had evened out the length all the way around. She’d put on a minimal amount of makeup, but even that had been enough to change her look.
“Pretty. I look—pretty,” she’d whispered to herself, as if afraid to say it too loudly, in case she was wrong.
Chrissie heard the car pull into the parking lot out front and went back into her room. She grabbed the garment bag holding the dresses and the suitcase holding everything else. The one she’d brought with her when she’d fled to the island had been a beaten-up affair, and when Cass saw it, she said, “No-no-no,” so quickly it sounded like one word. She’d brought Chrissie one of hers, an expandable Pullman with enough room for shoes and all the clothes that weren’t on hangers. Chrissie’d filled it, debating unsurely over this shirt or that, these shorts or that skirt. Finally, she’d made her decisions and packed what she thought she’d wear. Only after she’d finished that chore did she get dressed.
The day was sunny and very warm, so the sundress she’d picked out at Bling was perfect. It had wide yellow and white horizontal stripes and wide straps, and the short white cardigan she’d bought was just right to toss over it. The dress was cotton, though, so she hoped she wouldn’t be a wrinkled mess, but it was so cute she almost didn’t care.
“Chrissie.” Ruby called her name.
“I’m on my way, Gigi,” Chrissie called back.
She grabbed the garment bag and the suitcase, which she had to roll down the stairs instead of carry. For one thing, her arms weren’t long enough to lift it over the steps. For another, it was heavier than she’d thought.
“I’ll get that.” Jared came halfway up the steps and held out his hand for the suitcase, then he stopped. “You look . . . great. Great.” He took the suitcase and carried it down the rest of the way.
“You behave yourselves, hear?” Ruby stood at the door. “You tell Delia I send her my best and that I be happy for her and her mister.”
“I will. Promise.” Chrissie kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t forget. Take the scones out of the freezer the night before and unwrap them but keep them covered. The brownies, same thing. The cookies—”
“Girl, I be pretty sure I know how to defrost. You just go on about your weekend and have a good time.” Ruby appeared to be debating whether to say something else, then did. “I be fine here. No harm be coming my way. Owen and Cass, Lis, Alec, all be checking in.”
Chrissie paused at the doorway, wondering if Ruby had sensed some threat that she’d since dismissed. A chill ran up her spine. She was never completely certain how to interpret some of Ruby’s pronouncements.
“You sure everything’s okay?” she asked.
“I just said so, didn’t I?” To Jared, Ruby said, “You drive right careful now, hear?” before closing the door.
“Guess I got my orders.” Jared lifted Chrissie’s suitcase with one hand and carried it to the car. He put hers into the trunk next to his, and both fit easily. “You can put your dress bag in the back,” he told Chrissie.
“This is one fancy ride.” She opened the rear passenger door and laid her bag across the backseat over his. “Is this yours?”
“No. I left my car in South Carolina. I rented this one.” He flashed a happy smile. “I thought we should travel in something a little more upscale than my beat-up old Jeep.”
“It’s beautiful.” She was tempted to run her hand over the metallic silver paint of the Jaguar sedan.
“Yeah, she’s a pretty thing. If I didn’t live like a vagabond, I’d want to own something like this.” He stepped up behind her, then reached around and opened the front passenger door. “Ready?”
She nodded and slid into the light gray leather seat.
Here we go. God, I hope this isn’t a mistake.
Jared got behind the wheel and started the engine, which to Chrissie sounded more like a purr. He eased out of the parking lot and onto the road leading to the bridge. Chrissie turned in her seat and watched the store and the island disappear behind them.
“You worried about her?” Jared asked.
“Not really. I know Owen and Lis are going to keep an eye on her.”
“But . . .”
“But she is going on one hundred and one. Her birthday’s in another month.”
“Planning a party?” he asked.
“I was thinking about talking to the others about that. Lis and Alec and Owen and Cass. I’m not sure who to invite.”
“Other than everyone on the island and half the residents of St. Dennis, who else is there?”
Laughing, because he was right, everyone who knew Ruby would expect to be invited, Chrissie said, “We do have other relatives. I just don’t know where most of them are.”
“Well, you know where your mom is, right? And your dad?”
“I know my mother’s still outside of Pittsburgh. My dad?” She blew out a long breath. “I’ve never known where he is. Actually, I’ve never known him. He left my mom and me before I was one, so . . .” She shrugged.
“Only child?”
“I have a brother. At least, I’m assuming I still have a brother.” She told him the entire story—no reason not to, and there was no way to pretty it up. Her father had abandoned them, and she’d never known why.
“I’m trying to think of something to say,” he told her, “but I’m at a loss. Except that I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to have a parent leave. I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t had my sister.”
“You were lucky. This isn’t something I normally talk about because I’ve never understood why he left and why he stayed away, and why he took Luke but not me, and if I do tell someone, they have the same reaction you just did. No words.” She looked out the window. “Lots of questions, no explanations.”
“What does your mother say?”
“Pretty much that it’s none of my business.”
“Of course it’s your business. We’re talking about your father.”
“I agree. But tell my mother that.”
“I think I would, if I ever had the chance.”
Chrissie was pretty sure he’d do just that.
“Didn’t you ever ‘truth zone’ your mom?”
“What would be the point? She isn’t bound by rules of any kind.”
“I’m sorry. That really stinks for you.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t mean it to sound as formal as she said it. She really was thankful that he seemed to understand.
They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Jared pointed to the radio.
“Want to find some music? I think we have satellite but I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” She turned on the radio and searched for a station. Hearing Patsy Cline’s voice, she said, “Oh, the forties! I love forties music!” She turned it up. “Ruby has an old radio on the counter in the kitchen, one of those plastic-case ones. Lis said when Alec built the downstairs apartment for her, he offered to buy Ruby a new radio, but she threw a hissy fit.” Chrissie grinned. “I can just imagine. She loves that old thing.”
“The thought of Ruby throwing a hissy fit is sobering. Almost frightening.”
“It is. Her radio’s set to a station that only plays music from the forties. I’ve heard all the songs so many times, I know almost every one from that era by heart.”
“How ’bout this one?” He pointed to the radio to indicate the song that was playing.
She began to sing along with Patsy. “ ‘I go out walking after midnight . . .’ ” and sang right through to the end.
“Impressive. And you have a good voice. We’ll get you out on karaoke night yet.”
“Not on your life. I don’t sing for crowds.” Actually, she was surprised she’d sung for him. It had happened before she’d had time to think about it.
“How ’bout this song? Title and artist?”
She listened for a moment. “Please. Bing Crosby. ‘I’ll Be Seeing You.’ It’s one of Gigi’s favorites. I always thought it reminded her of her Harold somehow.”
“Her Harold?”
“Her husband. My great-grandfather. I don’t remember him—he might have been gone by the time I was born, I don’t know. But I’ve never heard him referred to as anything but Ruby’s Harold. Even my mom called him that.”
They picked up Route 301 at Wye Mills and continued north.
“This song?” he asked.
“That, sir, is ‘Marie Elena.’ Jimmy Dorsey. I remember this one especially because when I was little, one of my first friends was named Marie Elena. Her father used to sing this song.”
“You really are good,” he conceded.
“Not so familiar with popular singers these days, but damn, I do know my forties crooners.” She settled back into the seat, much more relaxed than she had been when they’d started out. The music had taken her mind off herself and gave her something else to focus on. “How ’bout you? What’s your favorite style?”
Jared smiled and turned the dial on the radio, obviously searching for something.
“Ha. Here we go.” He turned up the volume. “Now, that’s music.”
He started singing along to “I Walk the Line.”
Chrissie rolled her eyes. “That’s Johnny Cash. Everyone knows that.”
“Oh really? How ’bout this one?”
Jared began to sing something she’d never heard before. His voice wasn’t all that good, but he seemed to give it his all.
“I can tell by that blank stare of yours that you don’t recognize the great country classic ‘Walking the Floor over You.’ ”
“And you’re correct. I don’t know that song.”
“The late, great Earnest Tubbs sang that.” He turned the dial again. “Maybe you’d recognize some more contemporary country songs. Ah, this one.” He settled on a station and turned the volume up a little. He glanced over at her and sang a few lines, then asked, “Anything?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Girl, that is Blake Shelton. Don’t you even watch The Voice?”
Another shake of her head.
“Do you live in a cultural vacuum?”
“Apparently.”
“Now, this is a great song. ‘I Lived It.’ Listen up.”
She listened. “I hadn’t heard it before, but I admit I like that one.” She turned it back to the forties. “Another golden oldie. There you go. Perry Como. ‘Some Enchanted Evening.’ ”
“I admit that’s a romantic sentiment, seeing a stranger across a crowded room and falling in love that fast. Never happens like that, not that I ever heard of. That’s not real life.” With a flick of his wrist, the country station was back on. “Now, this is Keith Urban. You ever heard of him?”
She nodded. “He’s married to Nicole Kidman.”
“Right. What I like best about country music is the stories the songs tell. This song that’s playing now, ‘Blue Ain’t Your Color’? It’s about a guy who walks into a bar and sees a woman sitting there alone, and he can tell that someone’s hurt her, maybe abused her. He tells her that the guy who didn’t treat her right wasn’t worthy of her, that she should never look that sad, that blue. There’s a line that says ‘It’s so black and white, he’s stealing your thunder.’ That’s just the way you feel when you’re in a relationship that sucks all the energy out of you, right? Know what I mean?”
She bit her bottom lip and tried to hold in the tears and find her voice. She knew Jared kept looking at her, knew she was expected to say something, but she couldn’t.
“You okay?” he asked.
Chrissie nodded, but she still couldn’t speak.
Jared put on his right-turn signal and pulled into a parking lot outside of Centerville. He put the car in park and turned to her.
“Chrissie?”
“I’m okay. Really, I am. You didn’t have to stop.”
“You were crying.” He reached over and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “You’re not okay. And I did have to stop. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me why. We can just sit here until you feel better.”
“It was that song . . .” She pointed to the radio, where Keith was still singing away. “It just made me think . . .” She couldn’t put it into words. She’d come so far since then that talking about it would make it real again.
“Made you think about someone who wasn’t particularly nice to you?”
She nodded.
“Want to tell me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about that time in my life at all. I want to have a great weekend and just forget that any of that ever really happened to me. That I ever let anyone treat me like that . . .”
“Okay. I get it.” He rubbed her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it. Ever. But you’re absolutely going to have a great time this weekend. I promise you.”
He was so sincere she could have cried all over again. But she forced a smile. She found a tissue in her bag, blew her nose, and nodded. “I’m good. Really. It was just an unexpected flashback. Sorry. It won’t happen again. We can go now.”
“Don’t apologize to me. And you can cry on my shoulder anytime, Chris.”
“Thanks.” She gestured with her hand for him to start driving again.
He put the car into drive and headed back onto the highway.
He reset the radio for classic rock and left it there until they reached Delia’s house outside West Chester, Pennsylvania.
• • •
CHRISSIE THOUGHT SHE was dreaming when Jared stopped across the road from a matching pair of open tall black iron gates attached to even taller red-brick pillars covered in ivy. They’d passed several large homes set way back from the winding country roads, but they hadn’t seen anything like those fancy gates with their lion emblems.
“Is this . . .” She pointed across the road.
“Yeah. Delia’s place. It’s really something. Wait till you see.” He drove through the open gates and a moment later, the large house came into view.
“Holy crap,” Chrissie heard herself say.
“Like I said. It’s really something. Delia told me that’s all native fieldstone. You see a lot of old places in Chester County made from that stone.” Jared drove past the house and parked between a late-model SUV and a BMW sedan.
“I see Zoey is here.” He pointed to the sedan on their right. “Ben, her husband, likes fast cars.”
“Is he the one that raced?”
Jared nodded. “Till he had an accident and had to stop. It just wasn’t safe for him anymore, but he never stopped loving it. He still goes to Europe for the races in Monte Carlo and France. His grandfather owns the shopping channel Zoey used to work for. Ben runs it now.”
“Zoey works for her husband? That could be awkward.”
“She quit when she had her third baby last year. Said one full-time job was all she could handle.” He turned off the car and asked, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” She got out of the car at the same time as he did, not bothering to wait for him to open the door for her. She took a deep breath, pushed all her insecurities into a corner of her mind, and straightened her back.
“Here, hold on.” Jared reached a hand to her and she took it. She didn’t feel she needed to hold on, but felt somehow he did. Why, she couldn’t begin to wonder, but she held on all the same.
Chrissie tugged on Jared’s hand to get his attention. “Wait. Let me just take it all in for a moment.”
The property on which Delia’s house stood was as breathtaking as the house itself. A stone and clapboard carriage house was set off to one side, a well-cared-for barn on another.
“For Delia’s horses,” Jared told her. “She rides, though not so much anymore. But she runs a camp for special-needs kids where they can come and ride. There’s an indoor ring in the barn.”
Chrissie looked out into the vast pasture behind the barn where several horses grazed. “How many horses does she have?”
“I don’t know. A few years ago she started rescuing horses, but I have no idea how many. Dad said she’s always bringing new ones home, the way some people do lost or unwanted dogs or cats.”
“I’ve heard of rescue dogs and rescue cats, but I never heard of anyone who rescued horses.”
“And now you have. It’s the same idea. Someone has a horse they can’t keep or don’t want for whatever reason—change in circumstances, they think the horse is too old, they bought it for a kid who’s no longer interested—whatever. If Delia hears about it, nine times out of ten she’ll have it brought here. Dad said she’s planning another addition to the barn.”
“Surely she doesn’t take care of them all.”
“She has a hired crew.”
He began to walk toward the house, so she fell in step with him.
There were gardens in front of, next to, and behind the house.
“She must like flowers,” Chrissie said.
“She said all that digging in the dirt helps her to think. She claims her best plots come after she’s weeded for a few hours.”
The front door opened and laughter spilled out across the gracious porch and the early evening.
“Jared, is that you?” A dark-haired woman stood on the porch watching them approach, a squirming toddler in her arms.
“It is. Is that my soon-to-be stepsister?”
“Bite your tongue. You know Mom said there were to be no ‘steps.’ ”
The woman put the toddler—a girl with a very high ponytail, her hair dark like her mother’s—down and the little girl ran into the driveway. Jared dropped Chrissie’s hand and went after her, catching up in three long strides. He lifted her off the ground and returned her, laughing, to her mother.
“Thank you.” The woman kissed Jared on the cheek. “Introduce me to your friend, Jared.”
“Chrissie Jenkins, meet Zoey Enright.” In a stage whisper he told her, “Zoey is the tall one. Her mini-me’s name is Daphne.”
“Hello to both of you.” Chrissie smiled. She recognized Zoey from the days she’d spent watching shopping on TV those nights when Doug was out and she wanted the company of a human voice, though she doubted she’d ever admit that.
“I was watching for Georgia. She’s not here yet and I was getting worried,” Zoey told them. “But you guys go on in and see the folks. Rachel got here about an hour ago. Sam’s coming later. He had some paper or another to finish. Apparently he’s teaching the summer semester.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Chrissie said to Zoey as Jared took her by the elbow and steered her to the oversized front door.
“We’ll have lots of time to get acquainted over the next few days,” Zoey told her. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.”
Jared ushered Chrissie into the front hall. There were voices coming from the right side of the house.
“My guess is the sunroom,” Jared told her. “Delia’s favorite room. Her kids call it the hanging gardens. Besides horses and people, Delia collects plants. She had a bar installed for my dad, who enjoys a cocktail while watching the sun set. Which it does right out behind those low trees. We’ll go out and take a look later.”
Chrissie’d never seen such a house, had certainly never been inside anything close to it. It had its fancy touches—she could see into the dining room, where a table was set for what looked like twenty people, a huge ornate crystal chandelier hanging over it—and there was lots of dark, highly polished wood—the floors, the wainscot. But there was also a feeling of hominess from the family photos on the walls and the child’s tricycle in the hall. A peek into the huge living room as they walked by revealed upholstered furniture all covered in pretty colors, florals and stripes, solids and plaids, all happy-looking pieces that gave the grand house a much lighter, more informal feel than it might have otherwise had.
“This house is amazing,” she said as they moved through the hallway.
“Delia’s done a lot with it. She put an addition on the back with an indoor pool—she swims every morning she’s here—and there’s an exercise room downstairs, just in case you’re wondering how she stays in such remarkable shape for a woman her age. She also had a second family room and a playroom built on to the other side of the house, off the kitchen, so her grandkids have a place to play and hang out.”
They stepped from the foyer into the room where greenery ruled. Jared hadn’t exaggerated. There were plants everywhere. It stopped short of appearing junglelike.
“There’s my boy.” A white-haired man in a linen jacket and pants put his drink down on the nearest table and held his arms open to Jared, who dropped Chrissie’s hand. “Glad you made it early, son.”
Father and son embraced, Gordon patting Jared on the back. “I missed you,” Gordon told him.
“Missed you too, Dad.” Jared returned the back pats, then broke away. “Dad, this is Chrissie Jenkins. She’s Owen Parker’s cousin.”
“Ah, Owen. What a character he was. I heard he got married. Must have been from you,” he said to Jared before turning to Chrissie. “We’re so glad you joined us for the weekend.” He lowered his voice. “Particularly Delia, who for some reason has a thing about having an uneven number of people seated at a table. I don’t get it myself, but there it is.”
Chrissie smiled. “We’re all entitled to our little quirks.”
“You picked the right one to bring with you, Jared. You’ll fit right in, Chrissie. I’m delighted to meet you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chandler. Same here,” Chrissie said.
“It’s Gordon. We’re pretty easy here, Now, come meet my bride.” Gordon took her arm and led her away from Jared.
Chrissie’d spotted Delia the moment they came into the room. She looked exactly like the photos on the back of her books, of which Ruby had a ton.
“Delia, this is Chrissie Jenkins. She’s a friend of Jared’s,” Gordon told the elegant, dark-haired woman in the emerald-green silk shirt and matching pants.
“Oh, the woman who’s evening out my tables. I’m indebted to you. Thanks so much for agreeing to come out to the wilds of Pennsylvania with that rascal soon-to-be son of mine.” Delia greeted Chrissie with a hug.
“I’m so happy to meet you. My great-grandmother is a huge fan of yours. I think you’ve met her a few times in St. Dennis.”
Delia tilted her head, perhaps trying to place someone named Jenkins in St. Dennis.
“Ruby Carter,” Chrissie told her.
“Oh my, yes.” Delia smiled. “I adore that woman. So wise. Always has the most interesting stories. She and my dear friend Grace Sinclair are very close. When I think of St. Dennis, I think of the two of them. Of course, Ruby doesn’t actually live in St. Dennis. She’s on that island . . .”
“Cannonball Island, yes.”
“I keep meaning to go there. I’ve heard so much. Now, did I read an article recently about a developer buying up old historic homes and building new ones with some of the original details?”
“Yes. My cousin Owen’s wife is the architect.”
“I want to hear more about it. Oh, there’s my daughter Georgia. Come, you must meet her . . .” Delia took Chrissie by the arm.
Over the next half hour, Chrissie met so many people her head was spinning. Delia’s son, Nick, his wife, India, their children. India’s aunt August, who had a fondness for tossing out Latin phrases. Georgia and Matt, her husband, their kids, and Jared’s sister, Rachel, whose husband had yet to arrive.
Chrissie tried to memorize one thing about each person that might help her to remember their name and relationship to either the bride or the groom. After a while, she all but gave up.
Jared had rescued her by bringing her a glass of wine.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” she told him. “I thought you said this was going to be a very small affair. Just family.”
“This is just family.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to keep everyone straight. Zoey, I’ll remember. Georgia’s the one with the long straight blond hair, and Rachel is the only one in the group with auburn hair, so she’s easy.”
“Plus she doesn’t look like any of the Enrights,” Jared said.
“That’s also true, but it’s the color of the hair that I’m committing to memory.”
“And the guys?”
“I’m totally lost where they’re concerned. The only one who stands out is Ben, and that’s only because he limps.”
“Old racing injury. Broke his leg in a couple of places,” Jared explained. “By the end of the weekend, you’ll know who everyone is. They’re all very friendly, very down to earth, and you’ll like them all. Trust me. I was a bit intimidated when I first met Delia’s kids, but they’re a great bunch and a lot of fun. You’ll see.”
Someone announced that Laura and Ally had just arrived and that set off another round of introductions.
“I’m not sure how she fits in,” Chrissie whispered.
“Delia’s daughter and her daughter Ally.”
“Oh. I thought she only had the two daughters. So she’s Georgia and Zoey’s sister.”
“Half sister,” he said. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay.”
Dinner was announced and everyone was ushered into the dining room, where a caterer’s staff awaited to serve them. The meal was marked by lots of chatter and side conversations, an argument between Nick and Zoey over who got to use the kayaks first thing in the morning, and the occasional crying child, who was then tended to by a number of relatives. Chrissie had a headache by the time they’d finished eating and gone into the living room for dessert and coffee.
“You’re doing great,” Jared told her.
“My head is splitting open and my brains are spilling out all over this magnificent Oriental rug,” she confided. “I’m not used to so many people.”
“Do you have anything to take for it?” he asked.
“I do. I’ll be right back.” Chrissie excused herself and went back into the sunroom, where she’d left her bag. She found a container of Advil and grabbed a bottle of water from the bar, which was still set up, then tossed back the tablets.
“We’ve given you a headache, eh?” a voice said from the doorway.
Chrissie turned around, ready to deny it’d been the company.
“Oh, Rachel. No, it’s—”
“I felt the same way when Dad first introduced me to Delia and her kids and their spouses and their kids. It’s a lot to take in at one time.”
“Everyone seems so nice, but . . .” Chrissie said.
“Everyone is nice. There’s not a mean bone in any one of those bodies. But that’s not the point. They’re just overwhelming. They all talk at the same time and their conversations are hard to follow because one person will speak and someone else will finish their sentence and then take it in an entirely new direction.” Rachel laughed. “Believe me, I get it.”
“I didn’t want to appear rude by walking out, but yeah, overwhelming.”
“How ’bout if the two of us sneak outside for a few minutes, get some fresh air to help clear our heads?” Rachel suggested.
“I like it.” Chrissie followed Rachel to the French doors at the end of the room.
“The view out here is lovely at any time of the day,” Rachel said as she opened the doors onto a stone patio. “But I like it best right around dusk, while the horses are still out in the pasture and the birds are just starting to hunker down in their nests.”
“It’s so peaceful.” Chrissie stepped outside behind Rachel and closed the door, then took a deep breath. “The air smells so good here. So clean. Different from the bay. Not,” she hastened to add, “that the bay doesn’t smell clean. It’s just different. Salty in some parts, marshy in another.”
“That’s right. You’re from the Chesapeake Bay, that place where Jared’s working,” Rachel said. “How’d you meet my brother?”
“My cousin Owen works for him. They’ve been on dives together in the past.” Chrissie took a sip from the water bottle she’d brought out with her. “Jared said you’re a diver, too, and that you work for the family business. Is that what you always wanted to do?”
Rachel nodded. “I was so jealous every time Dad took Jared with him on salvage operations and left me home. They’d come back with wonderful stories of the places they’d been to and the ships they dove on, and the things they found. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to do what they did. How ’bout you, do you dive?”
“Not on your life. I don’t want to go under the water and I don’t want to meet up with whatever’s down there.”
“Hey, if you’re going to be with my brother, sooner or later you’re going to dive. He’s going to want to share that part of his life with you.”
“Jared and I are not going to ‘be together.’ He’s not going to share his life with me, and I’m not sharing mine with him, not the way you mean. Neither of us has any interest in ‘being together.’ We’re just friends.”
“Really? Because he looks at you differently than I’ve seen him look at women in the past.”
Chrissie shrugged. “Maybe because I don’t expect anything of him.”
Rachel stared at her, finally saying, “I guess we’ll have to see how it plays out.”
“Rachel, there’s nothing to play out.”
“If you say so. Oh look. The sun’s starting to set.” Rachel pointed to the pasture. “I should go get my husband. I left him with the boys and they’re probably ready to run around a bit. Coming in?”
“In a few. You go ahead.”
“Great talking to you. We’ll catch up again later this weekend, I’m sure.”
Rachel went inside but Chrissie remained on the patio. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Rachel she’d felt overwhelmed. Large families and their interactions were a mystery to her. She heard a sound behind her and seconds later, Jared was there.
“Rachel said she’d left you out here. You okay? How’s the headache?”
“Better. I just needed to retreat for a few minutes.”
“Look at that sunset.” Jared pointed out across the pasture. “If I lived in a place like this, I’d be out here every single day at this time just to see that. I bet it never gets old.”
They watched as the sky turned tropical colors and the clouds took on elongated shapes. When the sun had disappeared behind them, Jared said, “I think we’re getting ready to propose some toasts to the happy couple. I’m expected to give one, so . . .”
“Of course. Let’s go in. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
The toasts lasted for almost a full half hour because everyone wanted to express their good wishes. Some were funny, some were poignant, but everyone spoke from their hearts. There was music and lots of socializing and Chrissie found that taken one on one, the Enrights were every bit as delightful as she’d been told to expect. The only uneasy moment came when it was time to turn in for the night. Somehow someone had gotten the idea that Chrissie and Jared were sharing a room, but he handled that diplomatically so their rooms were next to each other.
Chrissie lay in bed, the windows open, listening to the owls in the tall pines outside her window. Other than the occasional breeze brushing through the branches, the night was very quiet and dark, touched by the very faintest scent of pine. It was peaceful, and it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.
Morning brought breakfast in what Delia called the morning room, which was between the dining room and the kitchen. It had windows on three sides and a fireplace, and an old farm table that had two benches on one side and chairs on the other. Chrissie sat at the end of one of the benches, someone’s two-year-old on her lap. She shared her pancakes and fed eggs to Charlotte, the little girl, who turned out to belong to Georgia, and who, once fed, jumped off Chrissie’s lap and took off for the yard.
“So what’s on tap today?” Jared asked when he came into breakfast several minutes after Chrissie.
“Today’s whatever you make it, bud.” Nick poured syrup on his daughter’s waffles. “There’s lots to do around here, depending on your mood.”
“I’m up for a row on the Brandywine,” Ben said as he joined them. “Nick, you in?”
“Of course. Just like old times,” Nick said.
“Nick and Ben grew up together,” Delia explained to Chrissie. “They think I never caught on to any of their mischief, but they’re mistaken.”
“How ’bout we see some of the sights I’m always hearing about?” Jared nudged Chrissie.
“I’m up for anything,” she replied.
“There’s the Brandywine Battlefield, where Washington’s troops were defeated by the British. That’s not far from here.”
“Longwood Gardens,” Zoey told Chrissie. “It used to belong to one of the Du Ponts, now it’s this glorious garden bonanza that’s open to the public. Acres and acres of beautiousness.”
“Dad, is beautiousness a word?” Georgia’s six-year-old son, Zach, asked.
“I just said it, didn’t I?” Zoey tried to stare down her nephew from the other side of the table.
“You could have made it up,” Zach said. “You make up words all the time. Mom said so.”
“Oh, did she now?” Zoey narrowed her eyes and tried to pin her sister down with a glare.
“Are you finished?” Jared asked Chrissie, who nodded. “Let’s go.”
They left amid the sisters volleying words back and forth. There was a burst of laughter as Jared opened the front door and he and Chrissie stepped out into a perfect early June morning. It was a morning full of sunshine and the fragrance of the flowers that seemed to bloom everywhere Chrissie looked.
“Any preference as to where we go or what we do?” Jared asked.
Chrissie shook her head. “How ’bout you?”
“I think I’d like to stop at that battlefield.” He took his phone from his pocket. “And the gardens Zoey talked about—Longwood—is right down the road. And a little farther down Route 1 is the Brandywine River Museum. Heavy on the Wyeth paintings.”
“That sound perfect. Let’s do it.”
The Brandywine Battlefield park was a series of rolling green hills right off the main highway, Route 1. For all its proximity to traffic, it was surprisingly quiet once they walked out onto the field where the bloody conflict had taken place. It was almost eerily quiet, with only the sound of the wind blowing across the hills and through the trees, and Chrissie said so.
“I know. It’s almost as if you can hear the voices of the dead in the breeze coming down through those sycamores.” Jared read from his phone. “ ‘The battle was also known as the Battle of Brandywine Creek.September 11, 1777. General George Washington for the patriots, General William Howe for the British.’ ” He read a bit more to himself. “Oh, Washington didn’t fight Howe here. That was a few miles to the west.” He looked up at Chrissie. “Apparently the battle was fought across the farms and the hills. The British wanted to travel north to take Philadelphia,” he said, resuming reading. “Washington wanted to stop that from happening. Lots of Quaker farmers in the area, homes were confiscated by the Americans before the battle, and by the Brits after they’d won. The Americans retreated to a place called Chester to regroup.” He stopped reading and looked up again. “History is so much more interesting when you walk it, you know? I was a decent enough student, but I never felt involved in it. Walking here, I feel the connection. It’s humbling.”
They stopped at the visitor center and looked over the exhibits before heading out to see a few historic homes that’d been restored. Chrissie was intrigued to see the houses they visited from the very early 1700s were constructed of the same type of stone as Delia’s fieldstone. They stopped for lunch at a small roadside restaurant, then drove across the road to tour the Brandywine River Museum, which had an entire floor of Jamie Wyeth’s paintings. Since he was a favorite artist of Jared’s, the trip had definitely been worth it, even though they returned to Delia’s tired from all the walking. Chrissie’d hoped to grab a quick nap before dinner, but that had been optimistic on her part. She barely had time to shower before she was expected to be downstairs for the rehearsal for the wedding that would take place the following day in the grand living room.
Chrissie changed into one of the dresses she’d bought from Vanessa, a pretty medium-shade-of-pink sleeveless sheath with a low square neck. She remembered Cass’s instructions to layer her eye shadow for the rehearsal dinner, and layer it yet again for the wedding. Chrissie applied her makeup and brushed her hair to flow around her shoulders, then left her room to join the group that’d gathered in the foyer for the rehearsal. When she came down the steps, she could feel Jared’s eyes appraising her, and for the first time, she wondered what it would be like if they’d been more than friends.
She planted herself at the back of the group where she thought he couldn’t see her.
Delia’s minister, a woman named Sharon who was in her fifties, was running the show.
“I need the groom and his best man. Yes, you two. No ushers because there’s no seating, right, Delia?”
Delia nodded. “The ceremony’s only ten minutes or so long if that. There’s no one here who can’t stand for ten minutes.”
“Exactly. So you two will stand in front of the fireplace in the living room when I tell you it’s time.” She glanced at the clipboard that she held in one hand. “Okay, it’s time. Go.”
Gordon and Jared walked into the living room and stood in front of the fireplace.
“Next up: the bridesmaids. Four of you, correct? Really? Five?” She rolled her eyes. “You walk in next. Stand on the left. Go ahead.”
Zoey, Georgia, Laura, Rachel, and India went up the imaginary aisle and took their places.
“Flower girls?” Several small girls were pushed forward by their fathers, their mothers already having made their way into the living room.
“Seriously, Delia? You need them all?” Sharon asked.
“My granddaughters, and yes, I need them all,” Delia told her.
“Alrighty, then. Big girls, take the hands of the little ones. That’s right. Now walk nicely up there to your mommies.”
The girls did as they were told.
“No maid of honor?”
“What’s in a name? The bridesmaids are also my maids of honor,” Delia told her.
“Then they shouldn’t go ahead of the flower girls.”
Delia waved a hand for Sharon to get on with it. “The little ones won’t go up the aisle unless their mothers are at the other end.”
“This isn’t protocol.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s your wedding. So that means that you come in next. Last, I mean. Is someone walking with you?”
“My son, Nicky.” Delia turned to Nick and took his arm in an elegant motion. “Shall we?’
Nick nodded. “Indeed we shall.”
Sharon followed with her clipboard, leaving Chrissie standing alone in the foyer, and in a direct line to Jared.
Jared, who was still looking at her.
At first, Chrissie’d told herself he’d been watching Delia and Nick walk toward the family gathered in the front of the room, but no. He was definitely looking at Chrissie. She could feel a blush wash through her entire body under his gaze.
The look in his eyes did not say Hey, buddy.
The rehearsal dinner was everything Chrissie’d expected it would be, with delicious food and wine and champagne toasts; but she escaped to her room as soon as she could, mostly because she wanted to avoid being alone with Jared at any cost. When he suggested they take a walk out to see the moon, she begged off, claiming her headache had returned. Alone in her room, she changed into a nightshirt and sat in a chair near the window where she could see the big yellow moon just fine, without complications. She knew being anything other than just friends with Jared would be a complication.
She’d been doing so well. She’d found a job she really enjoyed, working with people she liked who encouraged her and appreciated her skills. Not unlike Rob at Luna. She’d give anything to be able to call him and tell him about Blossoms, to invite him and Jim to come visit and meet Ruby and Owen, and yes, Jared. But she didn’t dare make that call. She still sent Rob photos once in a while, still without captions, sometimes of the island, sometimes of dishes she’d prepared. She still didn’t trust Doug to stop looking, because her gut told her otherwise. She didn’t understand why, other than the fact that she’d put one over on him. His ego would not accept a blow like that. In his mind, she’d have to be punished, but he’d have to find her first, and she’d done everything possible to prevent that.
She may have put him behind her, but the effects of his abuse were long lasting. She would have expected by now she’d be able to spend time with a man and not be on edge. The funny thing was, she didn’t feel that sense of dread when she was with Jared. But as soon as she realized that, she went on alert, as if she truly believed there was no such thing as a safe relationship. No such thing as a man who didn’t manipulate, no such thing as a man who wouldn’t try to break you.
She’d been broken once, but now she was healing. Why would she even consider being anything other than a friend to a man who could break not just her spirit but her heart as well? She wasn’t sure there was a difference. Either way, something in you was broken.
Not fair, a little voice inside her whispered. Not fair to make Jared pay for Doug’s sins. Was that what she was doing by avoiding him? Did she really think she could avoid him for the entire weekend?
Too many deep thoughts brought the headache back for real. When Jared knocked on her door later to ask how she was feeling, she sank into her pillow and lay silent, hoping he’d think she was asleep and go away. She hated feeling like such a coward; it went against everything she knew about New Chrissie. But she still couldn’t face Jared alone until she sorted out how she really felt about him, and what she was prepared to do about it.