12. Ward
12
Ward
B y the time Ward returned to the guesthouse, having showered, shaved, and with his exuberant parents in tow, the aroma that wafted out the front door to greet them had all three of them smiling with anticipation.
“My goodness, that smells wonderful,” his mother murmured as Ward held the door open for both her and his father. He’d knocked, and Hazel had hollered for them to come in.
“We’re in the kitchen.” Penny poked her head into the parlor as they came through and beckoned for them to follow her. “We were hoping to eat out on the porch, but the bugs are out in force tonight, and it’s a little too warm outside for this meal. I hope you like a little spice in your life.” She pointed at Ward. “I know you do.”
He cocked his head at her, ignoring the enormous grin on his mother’s face as she looked from Ward to Penny and then back again. “And how do you know that?”
She turned to head back the way she’d come, but over her shoulder, she said, “I saw you douse your sandwich with that stuff today, Mr. St. James. Your nose hairs were practically on fire.”
His father guffawed, and they dutifully followed her into the dining room, where the table was already set and waiting for them. “We all like a little zip in our food, don’t we, love,” Ted said, ushering his wife into the room ahead of him.
“Yes, indeed,” Rachel said. “And Penny, since you wouldn’t let us contribute to the meal, I brought this for you.” She handed Penny a bottle of sparkling Italian lemonade. “This is one of Ward’s favorites. He thought you might like it, too.”
Penny hugged Rachel and then the bottle. “Ward, you have great taste. This is one of my favorites, too.”
“Really? Isn’t that lovely!” Rachel cooed. “Well, it’s best served chilled already and poured over ice. Maybe add a fresh basil or mint sprig to each glass.”
“I told you, Sweet Pea,” Hazel said, coming in from the kitchen. “One more thing you two have in common.”
“You should put it in the fridge now,” Rachel suggested. “Then maybe later this evening when it’s cooled off a bit, and after all us oldies tuck in for the night, you two can share a glass out under the stars. They’re supposed to be beautiful tonight, right, love?”
Ward looked from his mother to Hazel and then at Penny. “Well, that escalated quickly,” he said, not bothering to pretend he didn’t see what was going on. “Prepare yourself for an arranged marriage, Penny. Apparently, that lemonade was the bride price.”
The food was delicious, the flavors a complex blend of savory and sweet, the chicken pieces so tender, they practically fell off the fork. The conversation was just as engaging. Ward sat back in his chair and watched as his parents conversed with Penny and Hazel. Even with the odd number of people around the table, Ward didn’t feel that nagging sense of not belonging. Hazel was good at making everyone feel welcome; that was why she’d been such a great hostess over the years. Why the same people, like Penny, came back time and time again.
But Ward knew that there was another reason he felt so at ease, one he didn’t want to put into words. It didn’t make it any less true, though. Even as he tried to push the thought away, he could see this same gathering of people sitting around this table again and again, sharing meal and meal. And he didn’t, even for a moment, have the disquieting desire to flee.
He’d shared many a meal with his parents and Hazel before. The only difference tonight was the presence of Miss Penelope Anderson.
Sweet Pea, as Hazel called her.
It suited her, he thought. She was like a delicate, colorful flower, all dainty and fluttery. She’d changed into a pair of skinny black jeans and a tomato red shirt with a wide ruffle around the top that kept slipping off one shoulder. She wore no shoes, and he’d noticed that her toenails matched her shirt. It made him smile every time he thought about it.
But sweet peas were stronger than they looked, his mother had once told him, pointing at a trellis of them growing up the side of the house. Tenacious. Clinging to life, climbing, stretching, reaching skyward just to feel the sunlight on their faces. If a sweet pea’s needs were well tended, they’d bloom from spring to fall.
Ward had a feeling that Penny’s summers here in Autumn Lake were her mother’s way of tending to her daughter’s needs.
It hadn’t escaped his awareness, either, that she sat across the table from him, the seat opposite him not empty tonight. And because she did, he could watch her without being rude.
She was such a tiny thing. He studied the way her hands moved, the lift of her pale shoulder as she tugged her shirt back into place. How did she manage to care for a combative adult? Maybe her mother was just as petite as Penny, but that didn’t make it any less of a concern. How did she manage on her own? It sounded like she had some support from her aunt—was there an uncle? He couldn't remember her saying.
It forced him to take a look at his own life through new lenses, and he wasn’t so sure he liked what he saw in himself. Sure, he’d had his parents’ blessing when he left Autumn Lake to seek his fortunes, but he’d run from something good, hoping to find something even better, and now, he’d spent the better part of a year feeling sorry for himself because he was inconvenienced by his mother and father’s temporary need of his help. An inconvenience. In the grand scheme of things, that’s all it was.
Penny lived a truly inconvenienced life. And she thought she was lucky.
She turned from the exchange she’d been having with his mother and caught him staring at her. So much for not being rude. She smiled tentatively, tucked one side of her shiny blonde hair behind her ear, then dropped her gaze to the empty plate in front of her.
He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, and in an attempt to make things less awkward, he said, “This was amazing, Penny.”
“Thank you.” She still seemed to have trouble meeting his gaze again, but her smile was genuine as she pushed back her chair and rose. “What about dessert?” She began gathering dishes, and when the rest of them started to join her, she raised both hands and commanded, “Sit. Please,” she added, her tone softening. “I insist.”
Hazel looked like she wanted to argue, so Ward braved Penny’s wrath by insisting on joining her. “I’ve been raised right, Miss Penny. I’ll help with the dishes, and the two of us can make quick work of this.” He winked at Hazel, who nodded and winked back, her expression a little smug and a whole lot satisfied.
In the kitchen, Penny rinsed dishes while Ward stacked them in the dishwasher. “I can remember back when Hazel didn’t have a dishwasher,” he told her. “I knew that because she often had us over for meals—and vice versa—and we all just pitched in on cleanup as if it were an extension of the meal.”
Penny nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve always liked the cleanup part; after supper, particularly,” she acknowledged. “I suppose it’s a cathartic way to end an evening, especially when things get hard at mealtime. With Mom,” she added. “Sometimes they do.”
“I can imagine.”
“But even before the wretched disease, it was just something we did together. We cooked, we enjoyed the food we’d made, then we readied our kitchen for the next time. It wasn’t just cleaning, you know? It was preparation for another yummy meal. At least, that’s how I see it.”
“Well, you’ve got good eyesight then, Miss Anderson.” This woman. Her perspective on life was remarkably untainted for someone who dealt with so much on a regular basis. He could hear his parents and Hazel conversing quietly in the other room, but the tone of their banter was lighthearted and happy. It was the same way the women at Juno’s had sounded after their get-together that afternoon. Penny seemed to have that effect on everyone she came in contact with.
“Well, let’s see about your eyesight, shall we?” She opened the fridge and pulled out what Ward hoped was one of Hazel’s homemade lemon meringue pies. The white, fluffy topping had golden tips, and he had to fight the urge to reach over and stick his finger in it. “Take a look at this divine work of art.”
His jaw muscles clenched in anticipation of the sweet-tart filling, and he held out his hands to take it from her. “Wow. I’m drooling.”
“Right? Hazel made it this afternoon while I was gone, so it’s had the perfect amount of time to chill. My mouth is watering so hard right now.” She smacked her lips together and placed the chilled glass pie dish in his hands, but she paused before letting go of it, looking up at him, her face aglow with what he thought might be happiness. Had he put that light in her eyes? Or did she always sparkle?
She stood so close he could smell the perfume she wore. His fingers brushed hers, and for a moment, he let his gaze fall to her shapely lips. Dangerous. Very dangerous.
“Don’t drop that,” she warned. “It’s more precious than gold.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” His voice came out lower than he’d expected, a little husky, and she must have caught the change in it, too. She stepped back, brushed her hands together, and turned to gather up the stack of dessert plates and forks.
“I’ll come back for the coffee,” she said as she bustled out ahead of him.
They didn’t sit out under the stars at the end of the night, after all. Ward had noticed his mother was flagging by the time they’d finished their pie, and his father’s attention was growing more and more focused on her, too.
He’d considered taking them home, and then coming back, but it was already after nine, and he didn’t want to jinx the direction things were moving in with Penny. Best to call it a night while things are good, he’d told himself.
So he loaded his parents into the little golf cart he’d brought them over in. Then, while Rachel and Ted gushed with Hazel over how lovely the night had been, Ward moved back to stand beside Penny, because he wasn’t about to just let things end with tonight, not now that they had ventured into a new beginning. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” he stated. “Do you have plans?”
“I have books. Therefore, I have plans.”
“Mmm. Sexy,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. She made a perplexed, sorta scandalized face that told him she didn’t understand the reference. “What Claire said. Reading is sexy, remember?” He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her, then he nudged her arm with his elbow. “I’m not hitting on you in front of my parents.”
Except that he was, wasn’t he?
“Ha. You’re a little late to the party to be hitting on me. Remember? We’re practically married now.” She crossed her arms and bumped him right back.
“That’s right. How could I have forgotten? So does that mean you’ll have some time for your fiancé tomorrow?”
When she hesitated, he chuckled softly. “You can say ‘no’, Penny. I won’t take it personally; I promise.” Then he took a step back and gave her a teasing side-eye. “Or should I take it personally?”
“Of course not,” she hurried to respond. “I—I’d like to spend time with you. I just had to—” She waved a hand around in the air, then tucked it back against her side again. “I’m not good with spontaneous. Even when I’m on vacation. I mean, I know I kinda spontaneously invited you all to dinner tonight, but I was already planning on cooking. And honestly,” she added, one side of her mouth hitching up in a sheepish expression. “That was a big deal to me. For me to be so spontaneous, I mean. Not the cooking. I liked that. I don’t get to cook like that very often. You know, since it’s just Mom and me, and she likes super basic stuff like grilled cheese and Campbell’s—oh, geez. I’m rambling.” She dropped her gaze, causing her hair to fall forward, almost like she was intentionally ducking behind it.
Ward was glad his hands were still in his pockets. Otherwise, he might have done something stupid, like tuck her hair back so he could see her face. He really wanted to see her face. “I kinda like your rambling,” he said instead.
“Well, that’s good, because it happens more often than I’d like.” She peeked up at him, her nose scrunched in embarrassment, and then asked, “Would you like to join us here for brunch? Hazel and I were going to have French toast and scrambled eggs and bacon. Around ten?”
He nodded slowly. That wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for, but if that’s what she was offering, he’d take it. “Sure. What can I bring?”
“Did I hear you right? You’re coming for breakfast?” Hazel asked as she sidled up to Penny’s other side, obviously having overheard that much. His dad was fussing over his mother in the backseat of the golf cart, but she was watching their exchange with curious eyes. There would be questions tonight; he was certain.
Hazel looped her arm into Penny’s, and to Ward, she said, “If you can weasel some out of her, some of your mother’s blackberry syrup would be just the thing for our fancy French toast.”
“I’ll weasel away,” Ward promised. He said his goodbyes and got behind the wheel of the cart.
“What a precious girl,” his mother said from the backseat, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. They hadn’t even made it to the end of Hazel’s driveway. “How did you two meet again?”
An hour later, Ward slipped outside to the front porch, where he spent most of his evenings after his parents had gone to bed. Across the inlet, Hazel’s outside light was on, but no one, human or canine, occupied any of the seats.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket. It was two hours earlier in Southern California, and with it not quite ten o’clock in Autumn Lake, it wasn’t too late to put in a call to Johnny.
“Ward! My man!” Johnny’s gregarious greeting rang down the line, but Ward was prepared for it. He’d learned the hard way never to have a phone pressed to his ear when calling Johnny, and he already had him on speaker with the volume turned down so as not to disturb his parents. “How’s life in the Midwest treating you?”
Johnny was a charmer. A sweet talker, but in the best of ways. He was open and friendly with everyone, and he made folks feel completely at ease within moments of meeting him. Something Ward, on the other hand, struggled with. It was why they made such a good team.
They talked for several minutes about how things were going for Blue Waters. Johnny assured him that all was well, the crew was keeping busy, the charter schedule was packed, and the finances were sitting pretty. Ward had access to it all online, but it made him feel a little more involved when they spoke in person. Johnny seemed to understand that, and Ward appreciated his friend all the more for it.
“Have you heard from Rochelle lately?” Johnny asked when the conversation turned to shooting the breeze about more personal things. “She came by here asking about you. When you’d be back, that kind of thing.”
Ward frowned. He hadn’t heard from Rochelle since the night she’d apparently broken up with him. That was almost three months ago now. “I haven’t heard from Ro. Pretty sure she’s seeing someone else.” Might as well get straight to the point. He didn’t need her showing up at Blue Waters and disrupting their workday by bugging Johnny or the other crew members about personal stuff.
Johnny hesitated on the other of the line. “Did she tell you that?” he finally asked.
Ward’s brows drew together even more. “In so many words, yes. She has my number, Johnny. You tell her to call me if she has questions about me.”
“I’m not going to chase the woman off,” Johnny said, his voice quiet, concerned. “I kinda got the feeling she was here looking for a little hope. Maybe you should call her. Check in on her.”
Ward sighed long and loud. Why now? Had this been a couple of months ago, he would have ended this call and gotten on the line with her in a heartbeat. But it had been three months. Three months since they’d communicated anything to each other. Oh, he’d emailed her shortly after their conversation, apologizing for not making her a priority, and she’d responded to it with a gentle, one-sentence reply, thanking him for taking the time to write. He’d even texted her a few times in the weeks after, and the most he got in return was a smiley face or a thumbs-up emoji. Not even a heart. She’d all but cut him off.
Oh, he’d planned to look her up when he got back to Laguna, but not to try to salvage things. She’d made it clear that they were over. No, he just felt the responsibility of letting things slip away, and he wanted to do right by her and apologize to her face. He wanted to see for himself that she was okay, even though part of him already knew that she was doing just fine out there in her beach town where everyone loved her.
“I’ll give her a call tomorrow, Johnny. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“It’s all good,” Johnny insisted. “It was nice to see her pretty face around here again. We all miss you both, man.”
Ward hung up with Johnny and sank back into the Adirondack chair he always sat in when he was out there. The stars were beautiful tonight, just as his mother had predicted, and he wholeheartedly wished he was sitting across the inlet on Hazel’s porch right now, listening to the sparkly Miss Penny talk about her life.
“Her hard life,” he muttered, wishing he could do something—anything—to make things easier for her.
He groaned softly and closed his eyes. He’d been looking forward to the morning when he’d get to see Penny again, but now, he’d have the phone call to Rochelle hanging over his head all day. If he didn’t reach out to her tonight, he’d have to wait until he was finished with Penny to call her. He couldn’t do it before brunch; the time difference would make it far too early for Rochelle to even be coherent.
“Get it over with,” he told himself, and he picked up his phone. Rochelle was still #2 on his speed dial, right after his mom. He needed to change that.
Across the inlet, the upstairs bedroom light in Hazel’s guesthouse came on. He knew it was Penny; Hazel’s quarters were on the main floor on the other side of the house. He couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable sitting in the dark, staring up at her bedroom window, especially while talking to his ex-girlfriend, so he stood and headed down the porch steps toward the dock that stretched out over the water. There were two more Adirondacks out at the end of it, and he dropped into one, only to find himself staring at all the lights of the Carpe Diem resort on the other side of the lake.
Rochelle didn’t answer her phone, and although a big part of him was admittedly relieved, the sound of her voice disconcerted him. She’d changed her greeting, and she sounded… different somehow. Harder. Edgier.
He made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. “Really, Ward? You can tell that by her voicemail greeting?” He shoved his phone in his back pocket and glowered at the lights of the resort across the lake. The monstrosity was mirrored in the lake, making it feel twice as overbearing. But his attention didn’t linger there.
In fact, he was having a hard time focusing on Rochelle Trebler, as well. A certain petite blonde kept intruding on his thoughts.
He turned away from the grandeur of the North Shore and headed back up the short pier toward the house. His gaze drifted back to Hazel’s place, but the light on the second floor had gone out. “Sleep well, Miss Penny,” he murmured.
Maybe it wasn’t Rochelle who was different. Maybe it was him. Could it be that he was learning to see and hear differently, and that he was only now able to pick up on things he’d been missing—or ignoring? There must have been signs of his ex-girlfriend’s discontent, signs he’d have noticed if he’d been paying attention.
“Maybe you need to start paying more attention to what’s going on around you,” he said aloud as he slowly mounted the steps to his childhood home.
He glanced over his shoulder one last time just as Hazel’s front door opened, and she and the three dogs bustled outside. The little quartet made their way to Hazel’s favorite porch swing and the woman dropped into it, setting the thing into motion. It took a few moments of comedic jockeying for position, but all three dogs managed to scramble up onto the swing with her.
Ward opened his front door, reached around to hit the light switch, and flipped it on and off three times. Hazel lifted a hand in acknowledgment.