Christmas at Whisper Beach Page 9

  He’d never gotten the chance; by the time he tried to apologize she had left Whisper Beach and him for good. He hadn’t known until last summer what had really driven her away. He’d be damned if he’d lose her again.

  He drove straight to Van’s old house, the new office of Elite Lifestyle Managers. Even in the dark, the house looked like a different place. Not a place filled with dark memories and unhappiness, but a place with a future as only Van Moran could make it.

  It was also clear that she wasn’t there.

  He drove through downtown, wipers brushing the snowflakes from the windshield. The sidewalks were busy and there was hardly a parking place to be had, but he didn’t see her car.

  Now what? He doubted very seriously that Van would take on the mall tonight. And if she was driving back to Manhattan in this weather, he’d call Jerry Corso to get the police after her.

  He drove toward the beach. If she was hanging out anywhere it would be at Dorie’s. But when he arrived, Dorie’s was dark except for the porch light and there were no cars out front.

  The last time he’d done this, he’d parked across the street and waited for he didn’t know what. But that night there had been cars and lights and just as he was about to give up and leave, the door opened, Van stepped onto the porch and came down the steps.

  He’d followed her to the beach, staying behind so she wouldn’t know he was there.

  The beach. Of course. He drove on, turned left at the boardwalk and drove past the Blue Crab. There was her car parked at Whisper Beach.

  It’s where they’d spent their early years; the little delta of beach between the pier and the river that tourists ignored in favor of the wide white beaches south of the pier. The locals’ beach, where once a pirate’s mistress had come to watch for his return while she hushed her baby to the sounds of the waves.

  Joe laughed; he’d forgotten all about that stupid legend. The dude had never come back. No one knew what happened to the mistress and her baby—if they even existed. Probably none of it was true.

  He parked next to Van’s car and got out. Walked across the boardwalk and leaned on the rail, the full déjà vu of last summer seeping over him. Only then it wasn’t snowing, the moon had been out and he could see her silhouette as she walked by the tide.

  Still, he saw her. Even through the snowfall, even though she was partially hidden by the pier, he knew it was Van.

  That night, he’d crept away, embarrassed and feeling like a voyeur. Tonight he climbed down the steps to the sand.

  He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He just walked across the beach, his mind blank. The whole drive he’d thought about what he would say. And he hadn’t even managed to come up with an opening line.

  She didn’t hear him as he approached. Or maybe she did, because she didn’t seem at all surprised when he stepped up beside her.

  He said the first thing that came to his mind. “I’m sorry.”

  She turned her head to give him a signature Van look, a mix of strength, pain, humor, exasperation and irony that only she could pull off. “Is Haley better?”

  “Yeah. Mom said she was feeling guilty for having such a good time.”

  Van nodded.

  “You knew what she was feeling, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged, or maybe it was a sigh, because her pink puffy jacket just rose and fell.

  “Yeah, it took me a second but then I remembered. It’s so unfair to dangle the carrot of your family to them. The cookies, the presents, the shopping trip.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She has a home, a family, and it may be tough and not as comfortable and easy as ours, but it’s her family. And Owen’s and Kayla’s. I know you can’t understand that.”

  He moved closer.

  “When I was younger, it was great being at the farm with all of you. But it made going home all that much harder, so hard that sometimes I tried to make myself not come, but I couldn’t stay away. I just kept coming back.”

  “You could have stayed.”

  “No, I couldn’t. I had a family, as unloving as it was between my mother and father. And after she died, who would take care of my father if I didn’t?”

  “But you did run away.”

  “He kicked me out and then it was too late to come to you.”

  He slipped his arm around her.

  “Those children have a mother who loves them. So I’m not being mean to Haley when I tell her I don’t want to take her mother’s place. Or if I’m hard on Owen. I want them to survive and to think they have a chance, but not by giving them false hopes or taking them away from their mother.”

  “I didn’t think that. I was just worried that if she died . . .”

  “That would be a different situation, but she isn’t going to die.”

  He put both arms around her and she slipped easily in front of him. They stared out at the water, silent.

  “You know I followed you down here when you first got back last summer?”

  She twisted to look up at him.

  “You did?”

  “I was sitting in my truck outside Dorie’s trying to get the nerve to knock on the door, when you came out. I watched you go down the sidewalk and I followed you.”

  “I knew someone was there! Jeez, I thought you might be a psychopath or something.”

  “I know—that’s why I skulked away. Plus I was afraid I might get arrested. What were you doing down here?”

  “Remembering.”

  “What?”

  “The story about the pirate’s mistress.”

  He’d just been thinking of it himself. “What made you think about that?”

  “Well, the girls used to come down beneath the pier and whisper to the surf the name of the boy they wanted to marry.”

  “I hope you said, ‘Joe.’”

  “Hmm, I’m trying to remember.”

  Joe let go of her long enough to cup his hands over his mouth. “She said, ‘Joe!’” he yelled above the waves. “‘Joe!’ She said ‘Joe!’”

  Van laughed. “You crazy person.”

  “Crazy about you. Even though your hair is covered in snow.”

  “So is yours.”

  He shook his head, dislodging the flakes. “Will you come home now?”

  “I still have errands.”

  “You can do them tomorrow. I’ve got hot chocolate,” he tempted.

  He followed her home. The house was quiet and they had their hot chocolate and some broken cookies in the kitchen alone.

  Joe was pretty sure they had just reached some understanding, he wasn’t sure what, but he wasn’t going to push it. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. They were together and that was enough for him.

  Chapter 11

  Everyone was up early the next morning, plowing the walk and drive and plying it with deicer; setting up buffet tables in the winery and festooning the doorways with pine and holly and lights. Even Owen, Haley and Kayla helped.

  Haley hadn’t spoken to Van that morning. A couple of times their eyes had caught and Haley gave her a half smile.

  Van got it and it was all the acknowledgment she needed.

  It was Owen who actually came up to her, looking downcast and embarrassed.

  Was Joe making him apologize? She didn’t want that.

  “Hey, dude, dope party?”

  He looked up and grinned. “Dope.”

  “So can you give me a hand with this box? I think it needs four hands.”

  “Sure.” They carried a box of rented champagne flutes over to the drinks table. Even though it was a largely symbolic, a one-glass toast to the holidays, it was an Enthorpe tradition since they didn’t party on New Year’s Eve, but stayed at home to start their next year among family.

  By two o’clock the chafing dishes were lined up along the tables awaiting the myriad of dishes being kept warm or cold in the kitchen. The newly installed “facilities” were polished to a shine, the cloak room was stocked with matching heavy du
ty hangers and boot racks.

  “A real transformation,” Joe Jr. said. “And in such a short time.”

  Van nodded. Thanks to the Enthorpe men and the off-season workers who lived in the farm-hand bunks across the road. It had cost a bit more than they’d wanted to spend, but she also knew that quality won out and she was pleased with the results.

  “All right, everyone,” Mom called out. “Great job, see you back here for the party. Girls—and boys—let’s go get dressed.”

  They were met by the sound of several cars coming to a stop outside.

  “She does that every year,” Joe Jr. said. “I swear they must call ahead and tell her they’re coming.”

  “Just good planning,” Mom said, and took his arm as they went outside to meet the rest of the family. Even Duffy, who had found a cozy sleeping corner, pushed to his stiff old legs and padded across the floor, tail wagging lazily behind him.

  The rest of the Enthorpes were piling out of cars and trucks.

  “Told you we’d be back in plenty of time for the party,” Dave said, giving his mother a hug. Matt, Dave and Elizabeth had taken what they called their combination graduation, end of exams and bring-along-little-brother ski trip. They were tanned and colorful in their skiwear and full of energy.

  They were followed by Brett and his wife, Wendy, and their kids. The only ones missing were Drew, stationed in the air force in Berlin, and Maddy whose family was spending Christmas with her in-laws in Ohio.

  Later in the afternoon, the other guests would arrive, along with the more distant Enthorpe relations, who would appear like a small nation to celebrate, then disappear again until the next family function.

  Everyone bustled into the house where an urn of coffee was warming.

  “Good to have the family, well most of ’em anyway, home again,” Granddad said. “That includes you, Van. In case you’re wondering.”

  “Thanks.” Van stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

  “Hey, hey,” he laughed. “That’s my girl.”

  Van waited for the usual quip about marrying Joe but it didn’t follow. He took her arm and they joined the others going into the house.

  Coffee was served and hors d’oeuvres were passed while Mom admonished them not to eat all the party food, which was ridiculous. There was enough food to feed an army or two and Van knew Dorie would be bringing even more from the restaurant.

  Van started to leave to change into her new Christmas dress; she looked around for Joe and found him looking out the front window, not for the first time that day.

  “Expecting someone special?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Anyone I know? Is Santa making an appearance by any chance?”

  “He always does.” He turned and smiled at her. “But he usually flies.”

  “Ah, got it,” Van said, glancing at Brett and Wendy’s kids inspecting packages beneath the tree. She wondered if Haley still believed in Santa. She doubted if Owen did, which was a real shame.

  She went down the hall, heard the girls in their room. She would have liked to poke her head in to see if they needed help, but she didn’t dare. She’d sensed a tenuous peace between her and Haley and she didn’t want to risk upsetting her again.

  So she went to her own room and took a long look at her new dress.

  It was so not her. She took her standby black out of the closet and hung it next to the new dress. It was what she knew, comfortable but elegant. She knew who she was in that black dress.

  It took some doing but finally she put on the new dress. Changed her earrings. Slipped her feet into heels and was just leaving her room when Joe came in to change. He stopped in the doorway and stared.

  “What?”

  “You look . . .”

  “Like a Christmas tree?”

  “Like an emerald,” he said. “Unless you were going for the tree look.”

  She laughed. “Emerald will do.”

  “Wanna stay here and skip the party?”

  She pushed him away. “Get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the living room. And I suggest you wash your face, you have tomato sauce on your cheek.”

  He laughed. “That’s not sauce, it’s Aunt Harriett’s lipstick, but advice taken.”

  She kissed his other cheek and left him to it.

  By the time Joe and Van stepped out of the house to walk across the drive to the party, the parking area and both sides of the drive were packed with cars, and the soon-to-be gift shop was abuzz with revelers.

  “We may have to expand before we even open,” Joe said to her.

  Van crossed her eyes at him. “At least wait til spring.”

  “Beep, beep, wide load coming through.”

  Van knew that voice; she turned around. “Dorie!”

  Dorie Lister, wearing her “Sunday” pearls over a red Santa sweater, was coming up the drive holding a huge chafing dish of her famous Blue Crab specialty. It seemed to Van that Dorie never got older, just more Dorie. Skinny “as a ladder” and “twice as creaky,” according to her.

  “No time for hugs and kisses til later, I gotta get these crab balls to a hot plate.”

  “Here, let me take those for you,” Joe said.

  “Har. Think I was born yesterday? You’d have half of them eaten before they got to the buffet table.”

  Dorie wriggled her way past them while Dana Mulvanney, the transformed bad girl of Whisper Beach High, holding another tray just as large, followed in her wake.

  “Would you get a load of Dana?” Joe said.

  “I know,” Van said. “I hardly recognized her without the spiked hair. But curls?”

  “It looks kind of funny,” Joe said as they went inside.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at her.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said, and promptly burst into laughter.

  “I’m pretending I don’t know you,” Van said and walked away to greet some newcomers.

  Across the room she saw Mom Enthorpe and Joe Jr. talking with friends. Haley and Kayla stood next to them dressed in their new dresses. They were so cute Van wanted to hug both of them. She didn’t but she did wander nonchalantly their way. “You girls look great!” she said, probably with way too much enthusiasm. But so what? It was Christmas and they did look great.

  “Thank you, thank you for my dress,” Kayla said.

  “Thanks,” Haley said with way less enthusiasm, but she couldn’t keep from breaking into a smile, which she quickly extinguished.

  It was enough. “Well, enjoy. I’m going to go get a glass of something I can have since I don’t have to drive.”

  She left them and made the rounds, even stopping to talk to Dana.

  “I like the new do,” she said.

  Dana shrugged. “Wanted to try something different. You know, stop scaring the customers with the Goth look.”

  “Good thinking, I like it.”

  “Thanks. Holy crap. Look who just came in, and she has a date that isn’t Jerry.”

  Van looked up to see Suze shrugging out of something that looked like a medieval monk’s cape to reveal a long-sleeve white-and-gold midi dress.

  “She’s wearing heels,” Van said.

  “Forget the heels, that dress is going to look like carnage in a snowfield before the party is over.”

  “Who is the guy she’s with?”

  “Beats me,” said Dana. “Maybe they met in the parking lot.”

  Or maybe Suze had finally given in to her mother’s choice of suitable men. Suze saw them and steered her companion through the crowd toward them. They did hugs and air kisses and Suze introduce her friend.

  “This is Xavier Sendoa.”

  “Yikes,” Dana said under her breath. “Double yikes.”

  “He’s a fellow of physics at Princeton.”

  Xavier nodded solemnly. “Which is a position conducive to fascinating party conversation and alliteration.”

  He’s perfect, Van thought. “A colleague,” she said, as they shook hands. />
  “Yes. Though we never met until my parents insisted I accompany them to the Turner’s holiday party.”

  Suze grinned at Van and reached across her for a ham-wrapped asparagus.

  “He also writes poetry.” Suze took a bite and Van just managed to catch the dollop of remoulade before it christened Suze’s new dress.

  She handed Suze a napkin, licked excess remoulade off her finger and turned her attention back to Xavier. He was tall, taller than Suze, whippet thin with a sonorous voice and dressed in an expensive but ill-fitting suit. There was a mustard stain on the lapel.

  A match made in heaven. “I’m so happy to meet you,” Van said.

  “Likewise. I’ve heard so much about you all.”

  Jerry Corso stepped up to the group. “Yo, girls. How’s it going?” He glanced quickly at Dana and away.

  “Nice to meet you, Xavier,” Dana said. “See ya around, Jerry.” She walked away.

  Jerry sighed.

  Suze rolled her eyes. “‘Yo’? That’s the best you could do? ‘Yo’?”

  “You said to be cool.”

  “I said suave.”

  “Same thing.”

  “No it isn’t,” Van, Suze and Xavier said simultaneously.

  “Okay, suave. Yeah, like suave. I got it. Suave.” Jerry wandered away in Dana’s direction.

  “Good luck with that one,” Van said.

  Joe joined them and introductions were made again. More people arrived, and each time the door opened, Joe looked toward it.

  It was getting late when two women Van didn’t recognize walked in and stood just inside the doorway.

  “At last,” Joe said and hurried to meet them.

  Van automatically followed him. She met Mom and Joe Jr. and Granddad headed in the same direction and heard the first shrill cry.

  “Momma!” Kayla appeared out of the crowd and rushed toward the woman who Van realized was being supported by her companion. Then Owen and Haley were running, too.

  Kathy Davis, dwarfed by a down jacket, opened her arms and Van thought, Don’t hit her too hard. She looked hardly strong enough to stand upright; her hair was a duller shade of the children’s and was pulled back in a low ponytail beneath a knit cap. All three children surrounded her, hugging and asking questions and Kayla sang, “Momma, Momma, Momma,” as she dance around the two women.