Authors: Belleporte Summer
Maureen chuckled. “Are you sure Laurel’s up to taking on our entire brood?”
“I’m sure.” Megan bounced up and down on her toes. “Say yes, Laurel. Please.”
It was on the tip of Laurel’s tongue to ask, “But what will Ben say to the idea?” But she couldn’t do that. “I’d love to come. Thank you for asking.”
Maureen slipped her change back into her bill-fold. “Eleven in the morning?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Well, that’s settled.” Maureen turned to her daughter. “I’ll see you at home.” She exhaled a theatrical sigh. “Now on to the Mike challenge.”
After her mother left, Megan helped Laurel straighten the merchandise before she, too, departed.
Laurel dimmed the lights, then stood a moment at the kitchen window, from which a small wedge of lake was visible. As the shadows grew longer outside, she indulged in a moment of pure satisfaction. Two days did not a season make, but The Gift Horse might be filling a niche in Belleporte.
The same niche she wanted for herself. She felt at home here. People had been unbelievably supportive.
Except for Ben.
Ironic. The one person in Belleporte from whom she most craved approval was the one who continued to withhold it.
She had mixed feelings about Maureen and Megan’s brunch invitation. She liked the Nolans she’d met and was eager to meet the rest of the family, but she suspected Ben wouldn’t be overjoyed to see her there.
Yet it could be interesting to observe him interacting with his family, she thought, turning away from the window. Maybe she could get a clue what she was up against.
Because the truth was—she couldn’t banish the man from her thoughts.
L
AUREL TOOK
a deep breath, then rang the bell on the Nolans’ front porch. From inside she could hear children shouting “I’ll get it” and the thundering of several someones bounding down the stairs. The door flew open and she was greeted by two red-haired, freckle-faced boys, practically identical except one was three inches taller than the other. “Who’re you?” the shorter one demanded, eyeing her up and down.
“Are you selling something?” the taller boy asked.
Laurel smiled. Admittance past these gatekeepers was going to be hard-won. “No. I was invited to brunch.”
“I got it,” the shorter one said, a grin of comprehension lighting his face. “You’re one of Uncle Brian’s airhead girlfriends.”
“Paulie, you know Mom said never to say that word.”
“Airhead? Why not? What’s it mean?”
Just when Laurel began to imagine herself barging on in, right past the adorable—and candid—munchkins, Mike clambered down the stairs in flannel boxers. “Don’t you two have any manners?”
From somewhere upstairs came Megan’s raised voice. “Mike, is she here yet?”
Like an echo, another voice, deep and male, joined in from the front room. “Quiet, people! How do you expect a guy to study around here?”
A pale-faced young woman with a bright copper pageboy approached the boys. “Paulie, Patrick. Why are you standing there with the door open?”
“There’s a lady here,” Paulie said.
“That’s no lady,” Mike corrected. “It’s Laurel, you dummy.”
The woman shot Mike a disgusted look. “She is very much a lady, Mike. And please, go get some clothes on.” The woman shoved the boys in the direction of the living room, blew her bangs off her face and ushered Laurel in. “I’m so sorry. My sons are completely uncivilized and their uncles aren’t much better.” Smiling, she offered her hand. “You must be Laurel. I’ve heard so many nice things about you. I’m Bess, the big sister.”
“I’m delighted to meet you.”
“C’mon with me. I’ll save you from the Nolan men. Mom’s elbow-deep in pancake batter and wants to see you.”
On the way to the kitchen, Laurel noticed a series of low-hanging pegs on the wall. Above them were strips of masking tape labeled with names. Plastic bins filled with books and toys lined the hallway. “Don’t mind that stuff. Mom’s day-care equipment is all over the place.”
The refrigerator was plastered with children’s colorful art work, and on a bookshelf beneath the kitchen window were a fish bowl and terraria, one inhabited by a huge tarantula. Maureen stood at the island counter stirring batter in an industrial sized mixing bowl. “Laurel, welcome. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Ravenous.” The brisk walk over had restored the appetite her nerves had threatened to eliminate. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a thing right now. We’re waiting on Brian and Ben.”
Well, that answers one question.
“Bess, you live in Grand Rapids, right?” Laurel asked.
The woman hesitated before answering in a soft voice. “Yes.” Then, as if distracted, she went on. “Ben and Brian have both settled in the area, but who knows what Terry will do.”
“Did you meet Terry?” Maureen asked.
“Not yet.” Laurel grinned. “He must be the one trying to study.”
“That’s his claim anyway,” Bess said.
Maureen ducked her head toward the living room. “I don’t think he’s doing much of that now. Sounds like Patrick and Paulie have that Nintendo going.”
Bess started toward the door. “I’ll say something.”
“Oh, honey, don’t bother. We’re about ready to eat, and a few minutes playing with his nephews will hardly affect Terry’s GPA.”
In addition to the noise from the living room, the ceiling above Laurel’s head vibrated with a steady bass thrump. “Is it always this lively around here?”
Bess rolled her eyes. “Just wait. Brian and Ben haven’t even arrived.” She seemed to catch herself. “By the way, have you met my other two brothers?”
Laurel hoped she wouldn’t blush and give herself away. “Brian’s doing the accounting work for my business and Ben introduced me to Ellen Manion, who negotiated the purchase of my shop.”
“Mom, speaking of Ellen, anything going on with Ben and her yet?”
Laurel drew in a breath, waiting for Maureen’s answer.
“That boy.” Maureen accelerated her spoon-action. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”
“Maybe Ellen isn’t the right woman,” Bess suggested.
“Maybe,” her mother agreed.
A lanky young man with unruly black curls appeared in the door. “Mom, any chance of a guy getting fed around here?”
“Not until you meet our guest.”
Laurel waved her fingers in the air. “Hi, I’m Laurel Eden.”
“I’m Terry. Glad to meetcha. You with Brian?”
Laurel couldn’t wait till the family playboy arrived. She would look at her CPA with totally different eyes. “Actually, Megan and your mother invited me.”
“Laurel owns the shop where the kids work,” Maureen explained.
“Where is that lazy sister of mine, anyway? Did she have a date last night?”
He was nudged aside by Megan, wearing baggy jeans and an oversized man’s shirt. “Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes, I
did
have a date.”
“How’d it go?”
“Children!” Maureen glared at both of them. “Cut it out. We’ve got company.”
Paulie barreled between Terry’s legs and smiled up appealingly at Laurel. “Hey, lady, wanna play Nintendo?”
Overhead, something like a dead weight went
ker-thunk,
and everyone in the kitchen heard Mike’s muffled curse.
Paulie clapped a hand over his mouth. “Uncle Mikey said a bad word.”
All her life Laurel had heard about large, close-knit rollicking families, and now she was witnessing the real thing.
A gust of cool air from the back porch caused the group to turn toward the door. “I told you the White Sox pitchers were no good. But would you believe me? Nope.” Brian came into the kitchen, followed by Ben. “Look here, bro. A regular welcoming committee.”
Paulie whooped, ran across the floor and flung himself at Brian, who braced for the onslaught. Catching his nephew up in his arms, he grinned at Laurel over the youngster’s head. “Hey, Laurel. You’re a surprise!”
Ben looked at Laurel, then at his mother. In a noncommittal tone he said, “Mom, I didn’t know we were having company.”
“Laurel’s not company. She’s practically one of the family,” Megan said, draping an arm around Laurel. “If she can put up with Mike, she oughta be able to put up with you two.”
Engaging as the Nolan family’s camaraderie was, Laurel felt almost overwhelmed. She’d always thought having siblings would be interesting, but she’d relished being the center of her parents’ world and savored her privacy. She couldn’t imagine where a Nolan would find a quiet corner in this household.
Mike stumbled into the scene. “I’m starving. When are we gonna eat?”
“As soon as I get some help.” Maureen pulled a huge clove-encrusted ham out of the oven. “Ben, would you carve? Bess, you and Megan can finish setting the table.” She handed a spatula to Brian. “Here, you do the pancakes while Laurel and I pour the juice.” She eyed Terry and Mike. “As for you two, keep my wild grandchildren out of harm’s way until we’re ready to serve.”
As if the movements had been choreographed and practiced for years, the family members swung into action. Laurel was grateful for the task she’d been assigned. It gave her an excuse not to talk to Ben. But when she passed by him carrying the juice glasses to the table, he caught her eye. “Welcome to the Nolans,” he said in a wry tone, but the inexplicable sadness in his eyes belied the smile on his lips.
“Thank you,” Laurel murmured, wondering again whether she should have accepted the brunch invitation.
Had she only made things worse?
W
HAT WAS
Laurel doing here? Ben impaled the ham with his fork and began sawing again. She’d already invaded his thoughts; now she’d invaded his family. This brunch couldn’t be over soon enough to suit him.
By the time the meal was underway, something else became clear. She’d won them over. She and Bess acted like twins separated at birth, Paulie demanded that he sit next to her, and Brian was grinning at her in a way totally inappropriate for an accountant and his client. That didn’t even count Megan and Mike, who acted as if they had brought home a prize. Then there was the way his mother kept looking from him to Laurel and back again. He could almost read her thoughts. At least there was a bright side, he told himself. Maybe she’d get off his case about Ellen.
Meanwhile, Laurel resembled a bewildered spectator at a tennis match, as family jokes flew around the table. She also looked like a million bucks. But, hey, who was noticing?
Surely she could see why he couldn’t get involved. All she had to do was look around the table. Bess had called earlier in the week. She needed to talk with him, she’d said. Things were getting worse with Darren. Over his second stack of pancakes, Terry had made noises about wanting a new suit for the summer internship interviews he had lined up. Guess who would get to pay for dapper Dan?
The conversation flowed around him, as if he were a boulder rooted in a rushing stream. He heard snatches from Laurel about her store, from his mother about some new state day-care regulation, from Mike about his geometry teacher, the sadist.
Then Patrick’s whiny voice intruded on his thoughts. “Why not, Mommy? You promised. You said we could call Daddy.”
Paulie took up the chorus. “Yeah, I wanna talk to Daddy. I wanted him to come with us here.” He glared at Bess. “You’re mean, Mommy.”
“Yeah,” Patrick said. “Why couldn’t he come?”
Ben looked at his sister. Her freckles stood out against her mottled skin. “Boys, go upstairs.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Reacting to Bess’s discomfort, Megan shoved back her chair. “I’ll take them. C’mon, guys, wanna listen to some music?”
“Where is Darren anyway?” Mike blurted, his mouth full of pancake.
Maureen studied her plate. “Mike, hush.”
“Bess, is something wrong?” Ben asked, experiencing a sudden sinking sensation.
Terry, who was sitting by Bess, picked up her hand. “Are you okay?”
Bess tried to speak, but couldn’t manage to get the words out. Fat tears oozed down her cheek and she jumped to her feet, looking wildly around the table. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her hands covering her mouth before she ran from the room.
No one said anything. Laurel’s eyes found Ben’s. In them he saw compassion tinged with concern.
“Mom, what’s going on?” he asked.
Maureen carefully set her napkin beside her plate, then stood. “Bess hasn’t told the boys yet, but she’s come home to stay.”
Brian bolted up. “What do you mean?”
“She’s leaving Darren.” Maureen touched her son’s shoulder. “She’ll tell you more later. When she’s ready. Right now I’m going to her.”
“Darren is such a loser,” Mike mumbled.
“That’s all Mom needs,” Terry said in a hushed voice.
No one said anything more until Laurel slowly rose. “I know this is a sad time for all of you. Thank you for the meal, but I think I should leave now.”
With the females all upstairs, Ben forced himself to his feet. “I’ll walk you outside,” he said.
Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the porch. There, Laurel faced him and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Ben. This must be very difficult for Bess and your family.”
She had no idea how difficult. “I’m the one who should apologize.”
“Nonsense. These things happen. Please give Bess my best.” She withdrew her hand and turned to go.
“Laurel?”
She stopped, then faced him, her eyes wide with concern. “What?”
How could he tell her he needed her? That he didn’t know how much of this load he could carry by himself? He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nothing.”
“Ben…” She hesitated as if deciding something. “You might want to talk. If you do, well, I’ll—”
He shrugged. “Thanks.”
“I care, you know,” she said, before setting off down the walk.
Yes, he knew. With those four words, she’d undone him. He knew, too, that despite how hard he was fighting it, he was falling in love with her.
B
EN HAD PUT IT OFF
as long as he could, but Katherine Sullivan had called to remind him in no uncertain terms that nearly three weeks had elapsed since he’d promised to bring Laurel to visit Summer Haven. Much as he knew he ought to avoid Laurel, the fact of the matter was he missed her. Now, thanks to his most important client, he had a reason to see her again.
It was not only fear of his feelings that had kept him away from Laurel. Between the demands of his practice and counseling Bess about the legal implications of separation, he’d had little free time. His sister had given Darren an ultimatum. Either he go to Alcoholics Anonymous and show he could stay sober or the marriage was over. Meanwhile Bess was barely holding herself together. On top of that, Mike had been none too pleased to move into Terry’s old room to accommodate Patrick and Paulie, and every day their mother looked more exhausted.
When he arrived at The Gift Horse, Laurel suggested walking along the beach to Summer Haven. Typical Laurel. It was such a “heavenly day,” she said. “Too nice to waste in a stuffy car.” So here he was, trudging along, fully aware he wasn’t the most affable companion. He listened to her prattle on about the flowers she’d planted in her garden, the B and B owner who’d placed a large order for candlesticks, and plans she had for a website. Grunts and uh-huh’s constituted his response.
Concentrating on the beach in front of him prevented him from looking at her. Apparently she hadn’t picked up on his mood or had chosen to ignore it, because she was her same effervescent self. He balled his fists and shoved them into his pockets, thankful she hadn’t asked him about his family, because that might have prompted him to tell her they were sucking him dry. He loved them all, but he didn’t see any end to their reliance on him. Megan was applying to colleges now, and if she didn’t get a scholarship, he had no idea how his mother would pay for her education.
After a few more paces, he became aware Laurel had stopped. He turned around. There she stood, staring up at Summer Haven with a delighted grin. “See? Isn’t it the best house on the beach?” Then she ran past him, grabbing his hand on the fly and heading for the stairs.
Somehow jogging those last few yards in the fresh air lightened his mood. She was right. It was a wonderful house, home of more good times than he could count.
Katherine had apparently been watching for them, because she came out on the deck, looking particularly youthful in a fitted lime-green pant suit. “There you are! It’s about time, Ben Nolan.” She turned to Laurel. “Do you know how long I’ve been asking him to bring you here?”
Laurel raised her eyebrows questioningly. “No. Has he been dragging his feet?”
“You know how men are. The more a woman asks them to do something, the longer it takes them to get around to it. It must have to do with standing their ground, proving their manhood.”
Ben’s foul mood threatened to return. Why were they talking about him as if he were invisible? He figured the best defense was a good offense. “Man is the provider. It’s serious business.”
Katherine’s eyes sparkled. “But that doesn’t mean he’s in charge.”
Ben laughed. “Boy, you’ve got that right. Otherwise, Laurel and I would’ve driven over here.”
Laurel punched him on the arm. “You have to admit the walk was invigorating.”
Invigorating—and awkward. “I bow to the superior wisdom of your suggestion.”
Katherine took each of them by the arm. “Come in, children. Greta has our tea ready, along with her fabulous ginger cookies.”
Entering Summer Haven, Ben was immediately swept into the past by the comforting smells of wood smoke and cinnamon he’d always associated with the cottage. Katherine ushered them to commodious chairs by the full-length window overlooking the lake.
“Oh, Katherine, this room—” Laurel twirled around before sitting down. “It’s fabulous. That’s an unbelievable view.”
“We’ve spent many happy times here over the years.”
“I can sense it. This room has a homey, lived-in feel.”
Ben settled back, letting the women carry the conversation. Watching Laurel as he munched on Greta’s moist, chewy cookies, he stifled a smile. She was such a lover of life. And so was Katherine. The two of them chatted on as if they’d known each other for years. Katherine was particularly fascinated by Laurel’s homeschooling.
“Did you ever wish you’d gone to public school?” she asked.
“Sometimes. But usually when I’d begin whining about it, Mom and Dad would whisk me off on some educational adventure, as they called it. It’s pretty hard to argue with firsthand learning at places like Williamsburg, Philadelphia and the Outer Banks.” Laurel picked up her cup, but didn’t drink right away. “I guess I was pretty pampered, now that I think about it.”
“But from what I can tell, not spoiled,” Katherine said.
Laurel chuckled. “I hope not. But as an only child, I ran the risk.”
Ben roused himself. “Speaking of risks, Katherine, how’s yours working out? You know, moving here?”
Katherine slapped the arm of her chair with the flat of her hand. “Best thing I ever did. Life is full of silver linings, and this is one. If Frank were alive, I’d still be in Chicago rattling around that huge house. But Summer Haven is home now.”
“Is Nan getting used to the idea?”
Turning to Laurel, Katherine explained, “Nan is my daughter.” A mischievous grin enlivened the older woman’s features. “She still thinks I’m certifiable, but she’ll change her tune when she comes this summer and spends time with me. Surely if I feel ten years younger, it’ll show.”
“It does,” Laurel hastened to agree. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
“You could do a whole lot worse,” Ben offered.
“Hush, you two. I’ll get a big head.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Laurel said.
Katherine rose to her feet. “Well, enough of this. Ben, I have some papers I need you to glance over while I show Laurel the house.” Teasingly, she said to Laurel, “You
do
want a tour, don’t you?”
Laurel was so animated with wonder and delight, Ben could hardly bear to look at her.
“Katherine, ever since I first saw this house last November, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Show me everything, each nook and cranny.”
“You keep Ben company while I get those papers, and then I’ll give you the deluxe tour.”
Brimming with excitement, Laurel sat on the edge of her chair. “Ben, thank you.”
“For what?”
“Bringing me. It seems right somehow that you’re here.”
“Since I’m the one who caught you trespassing?”
“No.” She paused. “Since you’re part of this place, too.”
How did she know his times at Summer Haven with Jay had been so important? That he’d been more himself here, more at home, than at his own house. There had been space and light and the solid male companionship of Jay and his father John, who in some ways had been a role model for Ben.
Katherine entered the room, flopping down a manila envelope. “This is an annual report and proxy. After you look it over, I’d like some advice.” She patted his shoulder. “Take your time. Laurel and I may be a while, but I’ll be sure to bring your girl back to you safe and sound.” She turned to Laurel. “Ready?”
After they left the room, Ben ignored the paperwork and stared out at the calm lake.
Your girl? Not very subtle, Katherine.
He was surrounded by matchmakers. Within the last week his mother, Bess, Megan and Ellen had all cleverly worked Laurel into their conversations with him. Now Katherine. Resisting such a formidable lineup and his own substantial temptation was taking more energy than he had to give. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the report and started reading.
But it was difficult to concentrate. In the distance he could hear the lilt of Laurel’s voice, followed by warm, shared laughter.
“Y
OU LOVED IT
, didn’t you?” Ben asked Laurel later as they left Summer Haven and started back down the beach.
Laurel wasn’t sure she could put her feelings into words. “Yes.”
He cast her a sidelong glance. “That’s all you have to say?”
“No, but—” Would it sound fanciful to say Summer Haven had wrapped her in its arms?
“But?”
She stopped, then scooped up a flat, smooth stone. With a practiced side-arm delivery, she skipped the stone over the surface of the water before turning to him. “Whatever I say, I’m afraid it will somehow dilute the sensation.” She brushed off her hands, then resumed strolling toward the village.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
And she didn’t for a quarter of a mile or so, appreciating his understanding. Part of her knew it was ludicrous to so instantly attach herself to a piece of property. But the other part knew she’d come home, crazy as that sounded. Even Katherine had picked up on her feelings. “I don’t think anyone until now has understood what this place has meant to me for so many years,” she’d said. Then she’d added, “Thank you, child.”
“Ben?” Laurel slipped her hand into his, welcoming the warmth against her cold fingers. “How do you explain déjà vu?”
“Still feel as if you’ve seen the house before?”
“Not the inside, although it was very like what I’d pictured in my imagination. But I have the strongest sense I was supposed to come here to Belleporte and discover Summer Haven.” She glanced up to see if he thought she was nuts, but he looked at her with interest.
“So what do you make of it?”
“I don’t know.” She walked on several paces, then laughed self-deprecatingly. “At the very least I have Katherine for a friend. Isn’t she amazing?”
“She’s always been the stabilizer in that family.”
“What was her husband like?”
“Frank?” He seemed to choose his words carefully. “A powerhouse. Big-time defense contractor. More or less self-made. I’d have to say he opted to run his family very much with the same firm hand he ran his company.”
“Sounds formidable.”
“He was, but he could also charm his most jaundiced competitor. You might not have liked him, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“He was typical of some men of his generation. A male chauvinist of the first magnitude.”
“Hmm. That makes me admire Katherine all the more for striking out on her own at her age.”
“Just goes to show you never know what’s going on behind the scenes in families.”
The edge in his voice took Laurel by surprise. Was he talking about his own? She decided to seize the opening. “How’s Bess?”
He shrugged helplessly. “Miserable. I wish I knew how to help her. But the only person who can do that is Darren. I could knock his teeth out.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know whether it was the stress of his job or what, but about a year ago he started drinking heavily. Bess says he’s out of control now. She felt she had to remove the boys from the situation.”
“Will he get help?”
“I hope so, not only for Bess’s sake, but Mom’s as well. After the shock of Dad’s death, I don’t know how much more stress she can take.”
“What about you? How much more stress can you take?”
He didn’t answer immediately, but moved steadily forward, his head bent.
“Ben, I don’t mean to pry.”
“I know you don’t.”
“It’s because I care.”
Dropping her hand, he stopped, then, placing his hands on her shoulders, anchored her. “Don’t,” he said, his expression raw with pain.
“It’s too late,” she said, her eyes never wavering from his.
“You can’t begin to understand, Laurel. The family is my responsibility. That doesn’t leave time for anything else.” His voice trailed off. “Any
one
else.”
Laurel hooked her hands over his elbows and drew his arms down, then meshed her fingers with his. “It’s not about time,” she said. “It’s about feelings.”
He bit his lower lip and stared out at the lake. “I can’t,” he said raggedly.
“Can’t what?”
“Give you what you want. Not now.”
She stepped closer. “It’s too late.”
He looked down at her. “What do you mean?”
“Ben, if I can get the shivers from an old house, I ought to be able to intuit the feelings of the man I care about and who, I’m pretty sure, cares about me.”
Roughly he pulled her into his embrace, burying his chin in her hair. “Oh, Laurel. I’ve been fighting this so hard.”
Laurel’s whole being flooded with warmth. “You don’t have to.” She kissed the tender place in his neck, where his pulse beat. “I understand about your family and your obligations there. Let me help.”
He stepped back, holding her at arm’s length, searching her face. “Why?”
She felt the words bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest. “Are you sure you want the answer?”
Dumbly, he nodded.
“Because, if I’m not careful, I could be falling in love with you, Ben Nolan.”
“Laurel, I—”
“Don’t you dare say another word.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth, then turned in his arms, wrapping his hands around her waist. “Look,” she said, nodding her head to the west, where the setting sun gilded the surface of the vast lake. “This is today. The sun will come up again. And again. I’m not asking anything from you now. But one of those tomorrows, you’ll have time.” She sank back against him. “Till then, I’ll wait. We’ll take it one day at a time. Remember, I’m a bit commitment-shy, too.”
They stood enveloped in silence for several minutes, then she shifted around to face him. “At the risk of contradicting myself, what are you doing this evening?”
He caught her to him and his voice thickened. “I’m spending it with you, Laurel Eden.”
She rubbed her fingers over his light beard and whispered, “What are we waiting for, then?”
K
ATHERINE STOOD
at the window, binoculars pressed to her eyes. She fumbled with the focus and the image cleared just in time for her to catch sight of Laurel skipping a stone. There were distinct advantages to being an eccentric old woman—no one to tell her it wasn’t polite to snoop, no one to admonish her to mind her own business.