Whisper Beach (30 page)

“Come on, Van and Wendy. Help me out in the kitchen.” Mom Enthorpe hustled the two younger women away.

“Whew,” she said as soon as the kitchen door closed behind
them. “I didn't really need any help so just have a sit while I finish up here. I was just trying to give Van a chance to catch her breath from the onslaught of men.”

She began spooning beans into a colander and transferring them to a serving bowl and then into a warming oven. It just seemed natural that Van and Wendy found themselves joining in the preparations.

“I feel so privileged to have two female companions at once. Since Maddy moved off to Ohio, it's been testosterone city around here.”

She chatted on, answering Van's questions about Maddy, and encouraging Wendy to tell how she and Brett had met. Soon all the dishes were ready to be served. Mom Enthorpe called her husband in to carry the roast to the table. Van and Wendy helped her transport bowls and platters loaded with enough food to feed a lot more people than were actually eating. Years of hearty meals for a working family.

They all sat down, and Granddad said grace. While the food was passed, wineglasses were filled halfway at each place. Granddad pulled himself up from his chair. Took his glass.

“Well, we don't expect this wine to taste as good as the Enthorpe wine when it finally gets here. But until then, here's to family and returning friends. Van, honey, we're proud of you and that fancy business of yours.”

Van blinked in surprise.

“He follows you on the Internet,” Joe's father said.

“And you've done real good.” Granddad winked, and they all drank.

There was general hubbub while dishes were passed, while Van struggled with a sudden urge to burst into tears. She pulled herself together and smiled across the table at the older man.

He smiled back. Nodded a couple of times and took a big helping of mashed potatoes.

Conversation slowed as they ate. It was all delicious and homemade including the seven-layer cake that Wendy and Brett had brought.

“You made this?” Van asked in disbelief. “I can't imagine.”

“Oh, it's just a little time consuming. But it was one of my grandma's favorites so I learned to make it as sort of a rite of passage I guess you'd say.”

“You gonna stick around for a while, Van?” Granddad asked over coffee.

“I'm staying at Dorie Lister's for a few days in Whisper Beach. I'm helping her do some streamlining at the Blue Crab.”

“Haven't been there in years,” he said. “That no-account Harold still gumming up the works?”

“He's off on some adventures at the moment. Suze Turner is there. I think she'll stay for the fall at least. She's working on a paper for the university she works for.”

“Well, if it gets too crowded, you should come stay out here with us.”

“Here, here,” said Joe's dad. “There's plenty of room. When are you finishing up at the marina, son?”

“Tomorrow or the next day.” Joe pushed his chair back. “Now I want to take Van out to see the vines; she has to be back in town by five.”

“You go ahead,” his mother said. “Maybe you can stay longer on your next visit.”

Van smiled. “Lunch was delicious. Thank you.”

“Don't be a stranger.” Granddad winked. “I'm sure Joe won't mind. And the rest of us wouldn't mind another sprout on the family tree. Lord knows we waited long enough.”

Van froze. She saw Joe and his mother exchange hurried looks.
He's told her.

“Get on with you, old man. We'll be happy to see you anytime, Van. And don't listen to his crazy talk.”

Joe guided her out of the house. “Sorry about that.”

“You told your mom about me and kids.”

“She wanted to know.”

“You told her there is nothing between us, right? They're not really thinking—”

“I told her there was nothing between us, and that we were just friends. And she asked what I had done wrong. I spared her the details but told her that you couldn't have kids and you thought that we wouldn't want you because of that.”

“You didn't.”

“Well, I was more coherent in the original telling. But, Van, that wouldn't be a deal breaker if a deal ever came up.”

“Goofball,” she punched him lightly. She was moved, but she didn't buy it for a minute. She knew how important family was to him. “Now, show me these vines of yours.”

They spent the next two hours wandering down the rows of vines, while Joe explained the growing pattern and the potential yield. Then he took her into one of the brick buildings that had been part of the milking operation.

It was a long plain rectangle with high ceilings where once hundreds of cows lined up to be milked. All that equipment and structure was gone and the room had been refitted with vats and giant barrels and equipment whose function she could only guess at.

“I have one fermentation room ready. And another space in case we expand. Two cask rooms and . . .”

“What's that machine in there?” Van pointed to a room off from the main building. “It looks like something prehistoric.”

“That's the winepress. Come this way.” He walked her through a doorway into a brick room that was empty. “This used to be the equipment and storage room for the dairy. I thought it might make a good wine-tasting room. Eventually.”

Van stood in the center and looked around the room, taking it all in.

“I want to do a cluster of structures, be able to offer tastings and tours, and maybe even have a restaurant. Someday. But this is what I've got so far.”

As Joe talked animatedly about his plans for the vineyard building, Van began to see it in her mind. Made mental notes about what he was saying he wanted and what was feasible to have. She knew nothing about vineyards, or keg rooms or tapping, but she could see the pattern.

“Seems like a lot of work.”

“It is. But I'll do it by steps. It will take a few years before we have enough stock to be able to run full throttle. I've already hired a foreman who knows grape growing.

“I thought maybe we could add a store and tasting bar, maybe an event room, you know, for weddings and family reunions, stuff like that.” He sighed and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “First I have to get a decent crop.”

The time sped; somewhere during the tour, Joe had taken Van's arm. Now he was holding her hand, though she didn't remember him taking it. And here they were back in view of the house, holding hands like a first date.

She slid her hand out of his on the pretext of brushing off her slacks, which were picking up a coating of dust. He didn't take her hand again, and she had to admit she missed his touch.

They came back to the house to say their good-byes, and the whole family came out to the porch to watch them drive away.

“So good to see you. Come back anytime.” Mom Enthorpe hugged her for a long time, then stood back while her husband leaned over to kiss Van's cheek and give her a quick hug.

Van grinned back, though her throat burned. How could they still like her?

Granddad Enthorpe stood on the porch and nodded and saluted, finally saying, “Don't be a stranger.”

Van smiled, nodded, waved, and couldn't manage to get a word out.

Mom Enthorpe walked them to the car. Stopped Van from getting in when Joe opened the passenger door. Gave her son a look that sent him around to the driver's side.

“I wanted to say one thing, Van.”

“Okay.”

“Honey, the road to love isn't always easy. And whether yours leads you back here or somewhere else, you will always be a part of our family. No matter what. And no matter how.”

Van nodded, feeling her eyes filling up and trying desperately not to let her tears fall.

“Mom,” Joe called from the driver's seat.

She kissed Van's cheek. “Now get back to Whisper Beach. But remember what I say.”

She stood watching them until they drove out of sight of the farmhouse.

“Was she giving you a hard time?” Joe asked.

“No, she— I think she was doing what moms do. But I'm not sure what she meant.”

“Hmm,” he said.

“Joe . . .”

“Van, it's all good. Now let's enjoy the ride back into town.”

T
OLD YOU
I'
D BE BACK IN TIME,
” V
AN SAID, BURSTING INTO
Suze's room.

“Thank God,” said Dana. “I'm going to be late for my shift.”

Van stuttered to a halt. “Wow, you look wow.”

“Dana did my hair.” Suze turned around uneasily. “Too much?”

“No!” Dana yelled.

“No, not at all,” Van said. “It looks very chic.”

“See, I told you. Yeesh. I don't get no respect around here. I'm gone. Have a good time.”

“Like that could ever happen,” Suze mumbled.

“What, having second thoughts about Jerry?”

“Hell, no. I'm having second thoughts about my mother.”

“And speaking of Jerry, I hope you don't mind, but Joe is downstairs. His mother stuffed me for lunch, and he's taking me to dinner.”

“Lord, it's turning into dorm central around here.”

“We plan to be gone before Jerry shows up. That would be too
weird. Anyway, he's really just buttering me up so I'll help him with the configurations of his planned tasting room.”

“Right. I'm sure that's his only motive.”

“We'll see. It's strange; it's like we're still good friends. His parents still like me as if nothing even happened. But it did. I probably should just tell him I'll send him some ideas.”

“Why don't you just let it play out, instead of organizing the way it's going to go?”

“Can't help myself. So let's focus on you.” Van glanced at Suze's bedside clock. It was big and round and had Minnie Mouse ears. “It's still a half hour before Jerry gets here. Maybe you should wait and put on your dress at the last minute.”

Suze sank onto the bed. “This is going to be a disaster. I know I'm absentminded, and a klutz and kind of a slob, but it just gets worse when I'm around my mother and her friends. They smile, but I know they're thinking poor Karen. How did she get such a lunk of a daughter? They say hello, and then there's that awkward silence when they can't think of anything to say.”

“They smile and think how brilliant you are and wonder how they will ever come up with conversation that won't sound stupid.”

Suze snorted. “Have I told you lately what a good friend you are.”

“BFF, that's me.”

“There's no reason for you and Joe to have to hang around here. Help me into this dress. I promise not to sit, eat, or drink in it until Jerry gets here.”

Suze pulled the dress up from her feet, wriggled it past her hips, and turned around for Van to zip her up.

The front doorbell echoed from below.

“He's early.”

“You put on fresh lipstick. I'll let him in.”

“Ugh-h-h.”

“Put a smile on; you're going to have a great time.” Van ran down the stairs. Joe was standing by the door. He shrugged.

Van shooed him out of the way. He disappeared into the parlor.

Van waited a beat, then opened the door. “Hi—”

“How could you?” Gigi pushed her way inside. “You're all ganging up on me just like you always did.”

“Gigi, calm down. What are you talking about?”

“You told Dad I stole Suze's stupid letter. It was Dana. Dana stole it. I hate you.”

Joe came out of the parlor. “Gigi, cut it out. Now.”

Gigi froze, then jumped back as if she'd touched a live wire. For several seconds she stared at him, and the look was so filled with hurt, anger, and just plain craziness that Van was frightened for her.

Then Gigi switched that awful stare to Van, and back to Joe. “You told her. You told her, didn't you? Why did you have to tell?”

“Gigi, pull yourself together. And yeah, I told Van. She saw us and thought it was Dana. All these years we've both blamed Dana, when it was you. And me. I was just too stupid to realize it. Because nothing happened.”

“ 'Cause of you.”

“Yes, because of me. Because you know something. I couldn't have lived with myself afterward.”

“I hate you.”

“Good, because I don't like you very much either.”

“Joe,” Van pleaded.

“What's happening?” Suze stood at the top of the stairs. “Jeez Louise, Gigi.”

Momentarily distracted, Gigi stopped, suspended midcry.

Suze pulled off her shoes, scooped them into one hand, and ran down the stairs.

“Why did you have to tell?” Gigi sobbed.

“It was all so long ago, Gigi,” Van said soothingly. “It's all right. It doesn't matter anymore.”

“Doesn't it?” Joe asked, and his voice was harsh.

“Joe, please.”

He turned on Gigi. “You wrecked what Van and I had between us, let us all think it was Dana's fault, which we all believed, even Dana, who's been living up to her bad-girl role ever since. That was partially her responsibility. But it was also yours. You've never taken responsibility for anything, not even your marriage or your children. It's about time you started.”

“Go, Joe,” Suze said under her breath.

“You never liked me. None of you ever liked me.”

“Gigi, that's crazy,” Van said. “We were best friends, remember?”

“Until Suze and Dana and Joe came along.”

“How can you say that? We included you in everything. We even made sure that you didn't get into trouble.”

“Because I was sweet Gigi, the good girl. I didn't want to be the good girl.” Tears were falling fast, drenching her face. Her nose began to run.

“Well, then you should have said so.” Suze dropped her shoes, opened her clutch purse, and handed Gigi a tissue.

Gigi snatched it from her without a thank-you and wiped her nose.

“Let's just forget the past, okay?” Van said.

“Fine for you. You're successful and live in New York City. Why would you want to remember the past? You came from nothing. We were embarrassed that you were part of our family.”

Van flinched.

“That's enough, Gigi,” Joe said.

“You wouldn't have gotten out if I hadn't given you all my money.”

“Dammit, Gigi. I paid it back and more. And before you rewrite that part of history, you insisted that I take it. Now I understand why. It wasn't that you cared about me. It was guilt money.”

“And I don't want your stupid house.”

“Fine,” Van said, suddenly weary of the whole mess. “I'm sorry that you are unhappy. I'm sorry that you're a widow. But I'm not sorry about what I made out of my life. Which I will be going back to in a few days. Go home, Gigi. Do something about your life.”

“Wait a minute.” Suze stepped in front of the door. “I want to know why you took that letter. What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing. I didn't.”

Van had never seen this surly side of Gigi, but she suddenly understood. “Most favored nation,” she said to Suze.

Suze nodded, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Gigi looked at the open door, then at Suze. She took a step forward, then flung herself at Suze, screaming and slashing and kicking.

Joe and Van grabbed for her and pulled her away. Joe held on to her as she flailed. “I think you better call her father.”

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Nate and Jerry Corso both came to the door.

“I got here as soon as I realized she'd left home,” Nate said. “I shouldn't have said anything to her. Gigi, you're making a spectacle of yourself. It's time to come home.”

“Uncle Nate—”

He held up his hand. “You don't have to explain. You were right, Van. We've ignored this too long. We'll take care of her. I'll send the boys over to get her car.”

He led Gigi, suddenly docile, out of the house.

Van watched them go. She could hear Gigi already telling Nate that it wasn't her fault. She closed the door.

“Whew,” Joe said and pulled Van close. “Hi, Jer.”

“Uh, am I too early?” Jerry looked from Joe to Suze.

Suze stood stock-still against the wall. Her hair had been pulled out of its pins. Her dress was crumpled. Her lipstick was smeared, and there was a scratch on her cheek.

She looked in horror at Jerry, clean and well put together in his summer suit.

Van caught her eye. Then Van fought with a smile. And a bubble of laughter welled up inside her. Suze's expression broke; for a few interminable seconds, Van didn't know if she teetered between laughter or tears. Then they both caved in to the ridiculous.

“We'll be back in a minute . . . or two,” Van said. “Make yourselves at home.”

She led Suze up the stairs to her room.

They sat on the bed side by side, speechless now that their adrenaline was beginning to subside.

“Did that just happen?” Suze said.

“I'm afraid so.”

“Do you think we were really like that?”

“You mean, did we enable her? I guess maybe we did.” Van sighed. “I know I did. She just always seemed like she needed taking care of. She's right, though. We were best friends, when we were younger. We grew up together. Then we got to high school, and we weren't so close. She had a comfy home and I had hell. I didn't have the energy to put into her.

“Then you and Dana came to work at the restaurant. Dana was my least favorite of the group. She was the crazy one, the troublemaker.
I didn't always like her even then. But it was really Gigi who didn't quite fit in. I didn't see it. I wish I had.”

Suze stood up. “Stop it. Don't you even think about taking responsibility for what just happened downstairs.”

“I'm not. I was just thinking that no matter how hard you try to forget and ignore your past, pretend it wasn't what it was, it's still always there.”

“That's very profound for a professional apartment organizer,” Suze quipped, but there was understanding in her eyes.

“It just took a hammer for me to grow up. Which I think I just did.”

“Cool. Now I hate to sound selfish, but if we can stop obsessing about Gigi, what am I going to do?”

Van took in Suze's hair, her face, her dress. “Call in sick?”

Suze groaned.

“Let me rephrase that. What do you want to do?”

“OMG,
IT'S LIKE
I stepped into a time machine.” Dana, order pad poised in front of her, looked over the group. “And what the hell happened to your hair? And why aren't you at that cocktail party?”

“Long story,” Suze said. “When do you get off?”

“Late, but I have a break in an hour.”

“Great. We'll eat, and then we'll fill you in on your break.”

They ordered, though Van didn't feel much like eating; she looked out at the beach wondering how it had all come to this. Suze had called her mother and canceled due to “an unfortunate accident.” Her mother wasn't happy until Suze said she'd be wearing a Band-Aid over her check and had a fat lip. “I fell.”

Van could hear Karen Turner at the other end commiserating and clucking and pretty much telling her daughter that she was such a klutz. And Van realized that no family was without its bit of dysfunction.

Suze hung up. “I think she was actually relieved to not have to deal with me tonight.”

“Does that hurt your feelings?”

“Nah. My father is kind of a klutz, too. Runs in his side of the family. A cross she must bear.”

When they returned downstairs, Suze was wearing a pair of black capris and a knit tee that she'd bought the other day. Van had tried to repair her hairstyle, but admitted defeat, and now it was swirling curly about Suze's head. She looked much younger than she was.

Jerry had divested himself of jacket and tie and had unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves. He seemed a lot happier. And actually so did Suze.

They'd walked double-date style to the Blue Crab. Van and Joe led and Suze and Jerry lagged behind, laughing and talking like they'd been seeing each other forever.

That had felt weird enough to Van, who was still upset over the scene with Gigi and her subsequent call to the Moran house. Amelia had answered and had practically accused Van of upsetting her daughter. Twelve years ago, Van would have rushed right over and apologized, done something special with her cousin until she was forgiven.

But not this time. This time the stakes were higher for everyone but especially for Gigi. She needed some serious therapy, and Van wanted to make sure she got it, instead of having excuses made for her. She'd find a way to talk directly to Nate the next time she called.

Joe wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Stop thinking.”

“Can't help it. I've got a lot to sort out.”

He kissed the top of her head. She wanted to tell him to stop, but it would take too much energy. She felt dragged out. And she was glad of the warmth and strength of his arm. Even though she knew this happy couples scenario would have to end soon before they all started believing it. Especially her.