Chapter Nine
Cass signed the slip for her credit card purchases and thanked Vanessa, all the while trying to restrain herself from running out the door. Once outside, she stopped on the sidewalk to scan the cars parked on Charles Street, searching for a glimpse of the blond woman. Cass spotted her across the street in front of the local coffee shop Cuppachino. The woman had opened her car’s rear passenger door and was strapping her son into his car seat. She closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side and got into the SUV, started the car, and drove off. Cass walked toward the stoplight and waited until the crossing sign flashed on. The SUV was the third car in the line, and it took all Cass’s willpower not to stare as she crossed the street.
You’re being ridiculous, she told herself as she walked toward the municipal parking lot. As Vanessa said, Parker is a common name. She could be a cousin or a tourist or who knows what. And besides, Owen never mentioned anything about having had a child. Surely that would have come up in conversation.
She took a deep breath. It had been a coincidence, that was all. Silly to have reacted the way she had.
I almost stalked that poor woman. Get a grip, Cassie!
She’d barely gotten back to her room when her phone rang. When Owen’s name appeared on the screen, she juggled the bags and the room key to answer the call.
“Whatcha doing?”
“I’m just getting back from shopping in town. Just getting ready to hang some pretty things in my closet.”
“Let me guess. Bling.”
“How did you know?”
“Only shop in town that sells pretty things for ladies, if you believe my sister. Did you have lunch?”
“Nope. But I’m thinking about it.”
“Think about having lunch with me.”
“I thought you were going to be underwater until later.”
“I was. We were suited up, but Jared developed a migraine and he wanted us to wait until he could make the dive. He doesn’t get headaches often, but when he does, they can last for hours. I didn’t feel like waiting around, so here I am. So how ’bout it?”
“Okay. Do you want to meet me downstairs in the dining room?”
“I have something different in mind. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”
“I’ll see you then.” Cass hung up and went into the bathroom to check her makeup. She added a little more blush to her cheeks and a little more mascara, a little more lip gloss.
The yellow skirt and white linen shirt she’d worn to Bling still looked fresh, so she grabbed her bag and left the room. She knew she was early, but she didn’t feel like waiting it out in her room. A walk around the grounds would be so much better than sitting and watching the clock.
It was another beautiful day, much like the one before, so Cass took a minute to walk around the building to see if there was in fact a family graveyard there on the grounds, or if Grace had been teasing Joanna at tea the other day. But halfway around the inn Cass found the gathering of graves, surrounded not by a white fence, but boxwood.
Less conspicuous, she thought.
“Comparing graveyards?”
She turned to see Owen striding toward her in khaki cargo shorts and a pale green polo, dark glasses covering his eyes and leather flip-flops on his feet.
“I saw you walk around the building as I was pulling up the driveway.” He pointed to the neatly trimmed grass and the grave markers. “A far cry from what you’ve been dealing with, right?”
Cass nodded. “Of course, the inn has a whole grounds crew, so it makes sense the family plot would be well cared for.”
He stood at the opening between the shrubs, his hands on his hips. He looked tan and handsome and sure of himself.
Don’t play me, please, a voice inside her whispered. I really want you to be one of the good guys.
“That’s Grace’s husband, right there.” Owen pointed to a headstone a few feet away from her. “Daniel.”
“Did you know him?”
Owen nodded. “He coached a softball team I was on when I was a kid. One of his kids played, and back then, if you wanted to play, one of your parents had to be involved in the league. Coach, run the snack bar, keep the equipment and bring it to the games—something to contribute. I guess they still do that.”
“What did your dad do?” She walked toward him.
“My dad?” Unexpectedly, Owen laughed. “My dad didn’t do anything. He wouldn’t even allow me to play on a St. Dennis team. My mom helped out at the snack bar twice each week so I could play, even though he’d told us both we weren’t to go. That was one of the few times my mom openly defied him.”
Owen fell silent for a moment. “I told you how my dad felt about St. Dennis.”
“It’s sad.”
“It was at the time. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He held out a hand to her and she slipped hers into it. He’d left the car by the inn’s front door, and they walked around a hedge of roses that were still in bloom.
“I always come and go through the back door,” Cass noted. “I’ve never been on this side of the inn. It’s pretty. I like the rocking chairs on the front porch.” She nodded in the direction of the chairs and the guests occupying them.
“I guess ’cause the lobby’s in the back. If I remember correctly, there’s a big ballroom right off the front where they have weddings and big parties.”
“So if we’re not eating here, where are we going?” She got into the Jeep.
“A place called Blossoms out on River Road. Sophie Enright owns it. It used to be a bit of a dive—it’d been empty for as long as I can remember—but she bought it a few years ago and fixed it up. She has a really creative menu and they make everything from scratch.”
“It sounds great.”
“It is.” He turned the Jeep around and drove slowly down the driveway as a number of walkers crowded the drive.
Once on River Road, he pointed out various landmarks and homes of note. “You know who Dallas MacGregor is, right?”
“Oh, please. Like I don’t read People? She’s a huge movie star who lives in St. Dennis and has her own production company in some old warehouse somewhere around here.”
“We just passed it.”
Cass’s head all but swiveled off her neck as she turned around. “That building back there? The long one with the metal roof?”
Owen nodded. “Actually, there are three of them, but you can only see one from the road. I heard on good authority that she’s planning a big announcement in another week or so,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
“What’s good authority and what’s the announcement?”
He pulled into a parking lot between a stone building with glass windows on the front and sides, and a plant nursery.
“The authority is her brother, Wade—married to Steffie of Scoop fame. Dallas just finished the script for a new film that will be shot right here in town.”
“Oh, wow. We’ll get to watch.” Cass hopped down from the Jeep after he opened the door for her.
“Maybe even get to be an extra.” He took her hand. “She’s filmed here before. Gigi said just about everyone in town appeared in one scene or another.”
“Gigi was in a movie?”
“She said there wasn’t a role for anyone over ninety-five. But I understand Dallas is going to rectify that omission in the next one.” He opened the door, upon which BLOSSOMS had been painted in a pretty scroll.
“This is so cool,” Cass said as they waited to be seated at one of the square tables, each of which had a vase of fresh, colorful zinnias.
“Check out the wall.” He gestured to the opposite side of the room.
“I see lots of photographs.”
“Photos of old St. Dennis. I’ll show you in a minute.”
A waitress led them to a table across from the photo wall. She brought them a bowl of roasted chickpeas and took their drink orders. Specials were listed on a menu that stood in a metal stand on the table.
“What’s good here?” Cass asked.
“Everything. The menu changes daily depending on what Sophie can get fresh that day and what she feels like making. So today we have she-crab bisque and grass-fed-bison burgers with garden lettuce and tomatoes.” He leaned back. “I think I’ll have the burger. I can’t resist anything with fresh tomatoes. It says here they’re grown right out back.”
“The BLT is speaking to me, and I think I’ll have to try the bisque.”
The waitress returned with their iced teas and took their orders.
“Lis said Sophie grows a lot of what she serves,” Owen pointed out, “and the flowers for all the tables as well.”
“She must be Superwoman. Run the restaurant, grow the stuff, cook the stuff . . .” Cass shook her head.
“And she’s also an attorney. She was working in her brother’s office in town, but last I heard, she’s pretty much given that up.”
“She’s definitely Superwoman.”
“It helps that her husband has a landscaping business—it’s right next door, actually—and he helps out a lot with the gardening. Plus they live upstairs, so neither of them has a commute.” Owen pointed to the picture wall. “So. The pictures. By the time Sophie was ready to open this place, she was pretty much out of money after buying the building and making the repairs it needed. This place’d stood vacant for a long time, so she had a lot of expenses. But she had to do something to spiff up the interior, and a plain old paint job wasn’t going to do it for her. She wanted to do something that no one else was doing, and she wanted the place to reflect the character of the town. So she asked some of her friends and friends of her brother’s and their grandfather’s if they’d give her copies of their old photos for the wall. Sophie had the pictures enlarged, and bingo. Décor. Take a good look later, you might recognize some faces.”
“Grace is probably the only person I’d know.”
“Grace is there, along with her husband and most of her family. When others found out what Sophie was looking for, they went through their attics and scrapbooks and came in with all you see there. There are wedding pictures and graduation pictures going back over a hundred and some years. Gigi said Sophie wanted the wall to be a tribute to old St. Dennis, and it definitely is that.”
“Nice. I’m itching to take a look. I hope that couple sitting next to the wall leaves soon.” Cass had lowered her voice to a near whisper.
“They look as if they’re nearly finished. And the name of the place? Blossoms? She named it after her grandmother Rose Enright, and her grandmother’s two friends, whose names were Lilly and Violet. When they were girls, people referred to them as the blossoms.”
“That’s so sweet. I love that.” Cass popped a chickpea into her mouth, chewed it, and then reached for another. “These things are addictive.”
“Not my taste, so you feel free to empty that bowl all by yourself.”
She laughed and pulled the bowl closer. “So did you figure out what that guy was all about?”
“What guy?”
“Your ex-brother-in-law.”
Owen shook his head. “Maybe I just imagined that he was trying to tell me something.” He paused. “But I just remembered Lis said she’d run into one of their cousins and she was sort of cryptic, too. I have no idea.”
Cass thought about the blond woman and the child from Bling. “Do you think Lis and Alec will have children?”
“I’m pretty sure they want to.” Owen tilted his head to one side. “What made you ask that?”
Cass shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe something Lis said the other night that I meant to follow up on.”
“I guess I missed that conversation.”
She could have told him he hadn’t missed it, because the conversation hadn’t taken place, but she was fishing and had needed a segue.
“Maybe. Maybe we were talking outside while you were in the kitchen.”
“What did she say?”
Cass shrugged. “I don’t remember how the topic came up.” She sipped her iced tea through a straw. “Did you have children? When you were married?”
“Me?” He seemed taken aback by the question. “Hell, no. If I had a child, you wouldn’t have to ask. That child would be with me. Well, part of the time, anyway. Don’t you think I’d have mentioned it when we were trading divorce tales?”
“Well, yes, I suppose you would have.” She smiled apologetically. “The question just seemed to blurt out. I do that sometimes. I’m sorry if it was too personal.”
“It’s not too personal. But the answer’s no, I have no children from my marriage or any previous relationships.”
Of course he would have told her—why wouldn’t he have?—but the woman in Bling with her sleepy child had sent Cass’s imagination into high gear. She felt herself relax, as if exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“I’m assuming you have no children in your past?”
“No. None. And, yes, I would have told you, too.”
Their sandwiches were served, and they both dove into their food.
“Everything okay?” the waitress asked as she breezed past on her way from another table to the kitchen.
“Great. Thanks,” Cass replied.
Having just taken a bite of his burger, Owen merely nodded.
A moment later he said, “Before you ask, no, I didn’t have a chance to talk to Jared. I thought I’d hit him with my request over a bottle of beer when the dive was over, but we never got that far today. Hopefully he’ll feel better later and we can have that conversation.”
Cass forced a smile. She had assumed Owen would have said something first thing this morning. She had to remind herself that her priorities might not be the same as Owen’s, and that he couldn’t control that Jared had a migraine. Still, she was disappointed. She clung to the hope of finding another place around the island to build their dock, and that hope was a lifeline to her.
“I never had a migraine, so it’s hard for me to relate,” she said. “But I’ve known people who’ve suffered with them, and I realize they can be murder. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“I sure hope so. I’m eager to work this wreck and see what’s really down there. Is there a second vessel under the ship? Are there traces of one of the lost islands?” Owen’s eyes shone with anticipation.
He was like a kid on a quest, she realized. But was it all about the hunt, or was it about finding the hidden prize? “This is like a treasure hunt to you, isn’t it?”
“Sort of. I’m just curious by nature. It doesn’t matter what we find so much as the fact that we discover something that hasn’t been seen for a couple of hundred years. It’s all treasure of one sort or another.”
The couple at the table nearest the photo wall rose and walked to the counter.
“Quick, before someone else sits there.” Cass nodded in the direction of the wall. “I’m going to take a look.”
She was out of her seat before Owen could respond. She stood in front of the wall of photos and scanned the faces, but couldn’t pick out anyone she knew.
“That’s Grace and Dan Sinclair’s wedding picture.” Owen came up behind her, and one hand on her hip, he reached around her to point to a bride whose windblown veil covered part of her face. “And that’s Alec’s parents, Carole and Allen—she was Grace’s sister—and their brother, Cliff. He raised Alec after his parents were killed in a car accident. Cliff was a boatbuilder, built most of the skipjacks for the watermen in St. Dennis.”
“I didn’t know that about Alec. I did know he was Grace’s nephew.”
“Cliff taught Alec his carpentry skills, left him the boatbuilding business and a house over on Lincoln Road in town. Alec and Lis have been living there.”
“I thought they were going to be living in the cottage out on the point.”
“They are. Alec’s looking for someone to rent the house while he decides what to do with it. He doesn’t really want to sell it, mostly for sentimental reasons, but he doesn’t want it to sit vacant, either.” Owen pointed to another picture. “Here’s Dallas MacGregor and Grant Wyler on their wedding day. They had a double wedding with Dallas’s brother, Wade, and Steffie, who is Grant’s youngest sister.”
Owen pointed out other married couples in their wedding finery on their big day.
“This should be called the wedding wall.” Cass glanced from one happy couple to another.
“There are plenty of pictures of people doing other things besides saying ‘I do.’ We have high school graduations going back to the turn of the last century.” Owen showed her several. “New babies. Here’s Grace showing off her son Ford.”
Cass studied the photos. “Steffie in front of Scoop. Opening day maybe?”
“I guess. I wasn’t here for it. But that would make sense, because here’s Vanessa cutting the ribbon in front of Bling, and Brooke Madison—Brooke Enright now—standing in the open door of her bakery.”
“So if you want your picture on the wall, you have to graduate from somewhere, get married, have a baby, or open a business,” Cass said thoughtfully.
“Something like that.”
“How long do you have to live here to earn a spot?”
“Long enough to make your mark, one way or another.”
Cass turned and walked back to their table, a determined smile on her face. She was going to bring new life to Cannonball Island, and if that wasn’t making a mark, she didn’t know what was—whether or not her picture ever hung on the wall at Blossoms.
“What’s that smile for?” Owen sat back down at the table. “You look like you’re up to something.”
“Just thinking about all the work I have to do.” She took a long sip of iced tea. She was thinking about all the work she’d set out for herself. “That reminds me. I mentioned to Grace I was thinking about putting together a booklet of stories about the island. She said Lis had written down some stories Ruby told her and was thinking about putting them into a book, and I should get together with Lis. Do you know if your sister’s done anything on that project?”
Owen shook his head. “I know she did interview Ruby a number of times and recorded their conversations. I don’t know if those conversations ever got into island history beyond what happened in our family. But if you’re serious, you should give Lis a call. I don’t know of any written history of Cannonball Island beyond a footnote in a book about St. Dennis.” He paused. “You are serious, I can see it in your face. You get this look when you decide to do something. Like weed-whacking all those little graveyards or scrubbing up potatoes.”
Cass laughed. “Yes, of course I’m serious. Aside from the public relations benefits of having a book to offer our buyers, I think there should be a written history of Cannonball Island. We both know it’s unique.”
“It is that. I don’t know how much Lis has done with the information she’s compiled. I know she’s been painting up a storm since she came back home. She uses one of the upstairs bedrooms at the store as a studio, so she’s in and out a lot. She was there when I left to pick you up, so you might be able to catch her this afternoon.”
The waitress returned to the table to ask about dessert and coffee, which Cass and Owen both declined.
“I was all in for the pumpkin mousse, but I saw the look on your face when I asked her to repeat the selections,” Owen said after he’d paid the check and they’d gotten back to the car. “You look like a woman with a mission.”
“I would like to talk to Lis if she’s still at the store. I could call her, but since it’s on my mind . . .” Cass clicked her seat belt and he closed the passenger-side door.
“I know. Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.” He slid behind the wheel and started the Jeep. “That pumpkin mousse really did look good, though.”
“What a sport. I’ll make it for you sometime.”
“Really?”
“Ahhh . . . no. Not likely. Sorry. I’m really not a very good cook. But it’s not too late for takeout.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” He stopped the car, both hands on the wheel. “Don’t even think about driving off and leaving me here.” He put the car in park and hopped out.
Cass sat in the front seat writing a list of things she wanted to ask Lis about.
Five minutes later, Owen was back, a bag in his hand and a smile on his face. He got back into the car. “Thanks for the idea. Ruby will be happy. She loves pumpkin mousse.”
“All’s well that ends well, so you didn’t need my probably-not-very-good mousse after all.” Cass smiled and dropped her little notebook into her bag. “Besides, aren’t you the guy who bragged to me about how he could make all things apple and pumpkin with one hand tied behind his back?”
“I don’t recall the tied-up part, but yeah, I’m pretty good. And one of these days, I will turn your head with an apple pie that will be swoon-worthy.”
“If you’re that good, why don’t you make your own pumpkin mousse?”
“Pumpkins aren’t in season yet, and anyway, they take too long to bake. There’s all that cutting and pulling out the seeds. Time-consuming.”
“You mean you make it from scratch?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She couldn’t tell if he was serious or putting her on. She tried but couldn’t think of a comeback, so she sat quietly as they made the turn into the parking lot at the inn.
“Thanks for lunch. I enjoyed the food and the company. And I loved Blossoms. What a very cool place.” She opened her door without waiting for him to open it for her. She wanted to get into her car and drive directly to the island. With luck, Lis would still be in her studio and wouldn’t mind a short break. “I guess I’ll see you at the store. I want to catch up with Lis if I can.”
“Why don’t you drive back with me?”
“I don’t want you to feel that you have to chauffeur me around. If Lis isn’t there, I’ll probably come right back to the inn. You have other things to do.”
“I’m sure Ruby has things for me to do. So I’ll see you over there. And you’re right to want to get to Lis when you can. She’s so busy getting ready for the wedding, it’s hard to pin her down.”
“That’s what I was thinking. See you there.” Cass smiled and closed the car door. She waved to Owen as he turned the Jeep around, then crossed the parking lot to her car.
She pulled into the wide driveway at Ruby’s store and parked in the same place she’d parked a few nights ago. Ruby was on the front porch, so Cass waved as she got out of the car.
“You be dressed mighty fancy for a girl looking to clean up somebody’s graves,” Ruby observed as Cass came up the steps to the porch.
“I did all the grave cleaning I’m doing for one day, Miz Carter. I was hoping to find Lis here, but I don’t see her car.”
“She be up in her studio. Alec dropped her off on his way over to the point. He’s been promising to fix up the pier, and it looks like today be the day.”
“It does need fixing. We—Owen and I—were crabbing off the end of it, and it was pretty rickety.”
“Been like that for a time now. No one been around to fix things. Looks like that be changing.” Ruby’s eyes were on Cass. “Lots of changes be coming ’fore long.”
“Changes can be good.”
“Some be, yes. Just gotta be open to what comes next, make the most of it.” Ruby turned to go into the store and Cass followed. “You’ll find Lis in the room at the top of the steps. Take some water up, she been up there a long time and likely she be warm right ’bout now. Those front windows been closed a long time, never did open right. Take one for yourself, too.”
“Thanks, Miz Carter.” Cass stopped at the cooler in front of the worn wooden counter and grabbed two bottles of water, held them up for Ruby to see, and went directly to the stairwell, which seemed to grow out of one wall. She took the steps slowly, liking the view of the store from her elevated height: the floors scraped and scarred by two hundred years of islanders’ feet, the wooden shelves that held the basics but little more, the old neon Coca-Cola sign over the door that still, defying all odds, remained lit. Something about the place drew her. The few times she’d been inside, she hadn’t had this overall view. It was a place out of time, and she wondered what would become of it once Ruby was gone.
Like Owen, Cass didn’t want to think about a time Ruby was no longer with them, because the earth might very well tilt off its axis when that day came. She continued up the steps to the second floor.
“Lis?” she called from the top landing.
“In here.”
Cass nudged open the door to the front room and found Lis standing in front of an easel where a large piece of thick white paper rested and on which she was tracing something Cass couldn’t quite make out. Paintings—framed and unframed—stood along one wall. The wooden floor was bare except for some newspapers under the easel, presumably to keep paint from dripping onto the floor, but were apparently an afterthought. Here and there, smears of paint in various colors smudged the floor so in places it took on the appearance of a rainbow.
“Oh, hey, Cass. How are you?” Lis glanced over her shoulder, then rested her brush onto the palette that sat atop a nearby table, also covered with newspapers. The table didn’t appear to have been protected any more than the floor had been. “What are you up to?”
Cass handed Lis one of the water bottles. “If I’m disturbing you, I can stop back. Or you can give me a call when you’re free.” Cass couldn’t take her eyes off the painting on the easel. As she drew closer, she could see the sketch on the paper was a portrait of Owen.
“I’m ready for a break and happy to have someone to chat with for a few minutes.” Lis opened the water bottle, took a long sip, and rested one side of the bottle against her chin. “It gets so hot up here sometimes. I need Owen or Alec to get the windows open. They’re the old-fashioned kind, with ropes inside to hold them up?”
Cass nodded. She’d seen those same windows in her grandparents’ old house outside Baltimore.
“And they stick, so they’re a bear to open, and someone has to hold them up while someone else—usually me—has to prop something in there to hold the window open. In the meantime, it gets hot in here.”
“Want me to see if I can help?”
“Nah. At this point, it’s easier to sweat. I don’t plan on working too much longer. I have some things in the car I want to drop off at the cottage.”
Cass’s eyes were drawn back to the easel.
Lis followed her gaze. “Yeah. My brother. He’s really hard to capture. He has so many expressions. It’s been a real trial for me, trying to get him right. I thought I’d give it to Gigi. Owen’s gone so often and she doesn’t say much, but I know she misses him every day he’s away.”
Cass stepped closer, her eyes on the portrait. “You’re really good. I can almost see that little bit of snark in his expression.”
Lis laughed. “Nice way to put it. Yeah, he has that, but there’s more to him, and it’s that more I’m having trouble with.” She turned her gaze to Cass. “I guess you know what I mean. You seem to be spending a lot of time with him.”
“Not so much.”
“Oh, please. Just about every time I see you, you’re together.”
“I don’t see you all that often.”
“Ha. I don’t blame you for denying you’re seeing him. I wouldn’t admit to it, either.”
“I’m not denying anything. I’m just saying that I’m not seeing him. Not really.”
“Would you please listen to yourself?” Lis rolled her eyes. “Total denial of a provable fact. The proof being he took you to dinner at Emily Hart’s.”
“Well, yes, but it was only so I could hear some of Ruby’s stories for a booklet I’m thinking of putting together. Which is actually why I wanted to—”
“He took you crabbing.”
“He was sort of appalled that I planned on being an islander but had never been crabbing before, but look, the reason—”
“He took you on a tour of Chestertown and took you on the Contessa.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And—and this one is the biggie—he brought you to dinner here.” Lis smiled with apparent satisfaction at having made her case. “And he cooked.”
“So what? We caught crabs, I didn’t know how to cook them, he did.” Cass opened her hands, palms up, assuming she’d proven her point. “What’s the big deal?”
“In all my memory, Owen has never brought anyone here for dinner. Feel free to check with Ruby if you remain the skeptic.”
“That can’t be true. He must have at least brought his wife . . . his ex-wife.”
“He told you about her? Hmmm. Interesting.”
“Why?”
“He never talks about her anymore. Which is just as well. It wasn’t a good time in his life.”
“He said the divorce wasn’t particularly hostile.”
“No, but it still wasn’t good for Owen. I think he tried to be what he thought he should be, and he failed, and it made him think less of himself.”
“Wow. That’s heavy.” Cass sat on one of two wooden chairs that stood near the double windows that offered a glorious view of the island and the bay off to the right.
“I know. We all worried about him. I think he thought the fact he couldn’t be a good husband meant he was going to be too much like our father, after all the years he tried to be the exact opposite. I don’t think it occurred to him that he wasn’t the right husband because she wasn’t the right wife. Anyone who knew them could see that. They weren’t just mismatched, they were just plain wrong for each other, but he blamed himself when it didn’t work out.”
“Heavier even still. He said he thought it hadn’t been a good idea from the get-go,” Cass said softly. “And he told me your father . . . had issues.”
“That’s a kind way of putting it.” Lis snorted. “But there you go. Another point for my side. I can’t believe he told you about our dad.”
“It was just a casual conversation, Lis. Don’t read anything into it.”
“You don’t get it. There are two things Owen hates to talk about, his failed marriage and our father. He told you about both.”
“I really don’t think it means anything. We’re just friends. He’s been helping me with the gravesites I’ve been trying to clean up, and he’s taught me how to use some of the tools I’ve needed. That’s all.”
“You keep telling yourself that, girlfriend.” Lis sat in the other chair, and the two women stared at each other for a moment. “So what did you have on your mind today, besides your relationship with my brother?”
Cass decided to ignore the comment about her relationship with Owen and focus on her purpose in being here. “Grace mentioned you were thinking about writing a book of Ruby’s stories.”
Lis nodded. “I had her tell me some of the family tales, which I recorded, but I haven’t had time to do anything with them. I wanted to put them together into a book of some sort when I could get to it.” Lis looked around the room. “As you can see, I’ve been busy. There’s something about being here on the island, and here in this place where my great-grandparents lived for so long, that seems to have opened the creative portals. I paint every day, and some days I feel I could go nonstop into the next day and the next. Of course”—she smiled—“Alec would have something to say about that.”
“Funny you should say that about feeling creative. I keep coming up with one great idea after another for our building project. Not just designs for the houses, but ideas for marketing and promotions that tie in to the island’s history. It’s like every time I hear about something that’s connected to the island’s past, I want to incorporate it into what we offer our buyers.”
“Like what?”
“Like writing a little booklet for each homebuyer and telling them about the family that built the original home. Putting together a cookbook with local recipes. Telling the legends that’ve been passed down through the years.” Cass smiled. “Making the little graveyards look pretty so people won’t think it’s weird to have a few generations of another family buried in their front yard.”
“Ah, that’s a tough one.” Lis laughed. “But I have no doubt that if anyone could make that seem like everyday, no big deal, that would be you.”
“That’s my goal. And the reason I wanted to talk to you was to see if you wanted to collaborate on a book about the island. You know, the stories you’ve collected from Ruby over the years. It would be a shame to see them lost.”
“I agree. That’s why I started recording them. But ours wasn’t the only family that moved here during ‘the crossing’—that’s how Ruby sometimes refers to the time our family and others were kicked out of St. Dennis. I was thinking how cool it would be to talk to some of the others on the island—maybe even some people who have moved away—and get their stories, but I don’t have time.”
“I have time. I’m not a native islander—right now, I’m not even an islander, but I will be as soon as I have a house. I could collect some stories.”
“I could make copies of my recordings for you.” Lis picked at a spot of paint on her forearm. “Maybe we could work on something together. I’d thought of using some of my paintings of places on the island along with the stories. You know, like the cottage on the point. I have a painting I did before the renovations started.” Lis got up and went to a portfolio on the table. After shuffling through the contents, she held up the work she was looking for.
“Lis, it’s magical.” Cass’s jaw all but dropped. Lis had perfectly captured the essence of the old cottage with its half-hung shutters and sagging porch, the overgrown vegetation that reached to the roof, the window glass that was too dingy to reflect what little sunlight came through the towering pines. The cottage looked abandoned, but waiting, and in that was the magic. “No wonder you have galleries in New York fighting for the right to exhibit your work.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I read it in an article in one of the old St. Dennis Gazettes at the inn.”
“The painting’s not for sale.” Lis held it up. “None of the work I did around the island will ever be for sale. It’s going to hang in the cottage, and in the store downstairs where Ruby can look at it every day, and someday in Owen’s house when he realizes he’s meant to be here. At least, Ruby predicts that’s going to happen.” Lis returned the painting to the portfolio.
“I don’t think that’s what Owen has in mind.”
“Owen can kick and scream and protest all he wants, but Ruby knows what’s coming. She won’t always say, but she knows. If she says he’s sticking around, he’s sticking around.” Lis grinned.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see. I was under the impression he was only here because Jared asked him to dive with him.”
“So he says. Just remember where you heard it first.”
“Marking the date and time in my memory. So. What other places around the island did you paint?”
“Take a look.” Lis gestured to the portfolio and stepped back.
Cass went to the table and began to look through the paintings, her awe for Lis’s talent growing. “These are remarkable. Here’s the general store. Ruby’s garden. Emily Hart’s Victorian porch?”
When Lis nodded, Cass continued going through the portfolio. “One of the old chapels. Oh, another of the chapels.” Cass smiled. “Looks like you did all three. I can’t tell them apart, but I vaguely recall the stories of ministers who couldn’t get along, so they each built their own chapel. Oh, here’s the bridge to St. Dennis. And the pier at sunset. Perfect.” Cass paused for a moment. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to sell any of them, but what if you made prints to sell to the new homebuyers?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I was just thinking of maybe using them in whatever sort of book I ended up doing. Obviously I haven’t given as much thought to this as I could have.”
“You’ve been busy planning a wedding. You’re excused.”
“Maybe we could sell the prints, display them down at the art center. Maybe even photograph the befores and afters for each new homebuyer. Heck, if I had time, it would be very cool to paint the befores. Some of those ruins have a certain beauty. And we could use the proceeds to fund the restoration of the chapels.”
“Great idea. I wasn’t sure what could be done about those properties. They’re eyesores, quite bluntly.”
“They are. I don’t know who owns them. I’d say check the deeds, but I’m not sure where you might find them. Cannonball Island isn’t known for such formalities as property deeds. I understand that these days, it’s made things tough for the state and county tax collectors. I can check the county tax records.”
“I think my dad already did that. There were a lot of properties that didn’t even show up on the books.”
Lis drank the rest of the water in her bottle and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Cass got the feeling that was Lis’s way of saying she was ready to go back to work.
“Well, I’ll let you get on with what you’re doing.” Cass took one last look at the incomplete portrait of Owen on the easel.
“Do you think he’ll like it? The fact that I painted him?”
“I think he’ll be flattered. I think he’ll be pleased, whether he admits it or not.”
“I hope so. Oh, look at this one.” Lis went to the row of framed paintings that stood facing the wall and selected one and held it up.
“Oh, my God, it’s Ruby! It’s her to a T. Right down to that tiny mole next to her right eye and the wisps of hair that always come free from her bun. Oh, and the eyes. They couldn’t be more right if this were a photograph. Has she seen it yet?”
Lis shook her head. “I was thinking of unveiling it at the exhibit next month at the art center. I wasn’t planning on taking any of my other works. Just this one.” Tears were in Lis’s eyes when she turned to Cass. “She’s the most beautiful woman I ever knew, and I wasn’t sure I could do her justice.”
“You have. You definitely have. I think she’ll be thrilled.”
“I hope so. Owen and Alec both think I should show her before the unveiling, but I think she knows about it.” Lis smiled. “You know how she knows things without being told.”
“She said changes were coming, so I guess she knows something.”
“When did she say that?” Lis returned the painting to its place near the wall.
“Just a while ago, before I came upstairs.”
Lis shook her head. “It could mean anything. She could mean because of my wedding.”
“That’s probably it. Hey, thanks for the time.” Cass turned toward the door.
“Sure. My pleasure. I’ll get a copy of those recordings for you.” Lis walked Cass to the door of the studio. “I’ll see you at the wedding, if not sooner. You are coming, right?”
“Yes.” Cass hesitated. “Actually, I’m going as Owen’s date.”
“Really?” A smile spread across Lis’s face. “And you didn’t think to mention that earlier?”
“It slipped my mind.”
“Of course it did.”
Cass was in the hall and almost to the steps when, without having planned it in advance, she turned to Lis. “What was she like? Owen’s wife?”
“Cyndi was all right. A lot of fun. Easygoing. Liked a good time.” Lis shrugged. “She was his girl when it was convenient for him. He was a rat that way. If she was dating someone else when he came back from one of his adventures, she’d drop the other guy to be at his beck and call. That whole routine would have grown old real fast for me, but she didn’t seem to mind. At least not when they were younger. But when they got to closing in on thirty, I guess she figured it was fish or cut bait. I never did know what she said to make him fish, but eventually he married her. I think he tried to be happy, tried to make her happy. But he’s got those restless feet, you know? Couldn’t settle down, though I think he thought he could. They’d been friends for a long time, and I think he felt he was letting her down, but he had a chance to go to Alaska, so he went. He thought he’d be gone about a month, but it lasted almost a year. She started the divorce proceedings after he’d been gone about six weeks because she was smarter than the rest of us had given her credit for. She and Owen didn’t fight about it. It was just one of those things neither of them should have done, and they both probably knew it, but they did it anyway.”
“That’s pretty much in line with what he told me.” Cass started down the steps.
Lis walked to the staircase and leaned on the railing. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think his feet are as restless as they used to be.”
“Good to know.” Cass started down the steps. “By the way, what did Cyndi look like?”
“Really pretty. Tall. Long legs. Incredible body. Real pretty face. All the guys in town fell all over her.” Lis smiled wryly. “For all the obvious reasons.”
“What color hair did she have?”
“Oh, she was blond. A tall, leggy blonde.”
A tall, leggy blonde. The phrase repeated over and over in Cass’s head as she drove back to the inn. That was a pretty accurate description of the woman in Bling. The tall, leggy blond woman whose last name was Parker. How could that be a coincidence?
Still, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, was it? Common name. Lots of women are tall and blond. Lots of tall blond women could very well be named Parker. Maybe the woman was married to a cousin.
The child in the woman’s arms had looked to be about a year and a half old. Owen said they’d been divorced for about two years.
Do the math, Cassidy.
She knew in her heart that Owen wouldn’t have looked her in the eye and lied about something as important as having a child. So it had to be a coincidence or someone married to a relative of the Parkers’. Nothing else made sense.
Whatever the answer was, she’d put it aside for now. It was almost four, and time for tea with Grace at the inn. If nothing else, she could look forward to some pleasant conversation and some tasty treats, and maybe she’d come away with yet another compelling marketing idea to add to her growing list of things to do.