WAS SHE ACTUALLY carrying a clipboard? Yes, and she was wearing a dress the color of apricots—or maybe peaches. Dawn had the clipboard tucked in the crook of her arm. Lost in her own world, or so it seemed to Jerrod, she was studying side-by-side buffet tables.
Smiling to himself when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, he anticipated her self-mocking complaints about the occasion demanding not only a dress, but high heels, too. But at the moment, with her teal reading glasses in place, she appeared preoccupied with her lists or whatever was on those pages, while his attention was fixed on how incredible she looked. She probably smelled like vanilla or maybe spring rain. The other night, her hair had given off the distracting aroma of ginger or cinnamon.
Forcing himself to face the truth, it scared him to think how often he found himself watching her. Doing ordinary things like scribbling furiously fast in her notebook, or observing her way of focusing all her attention on the person she was talking to. Who wouldn’t enjoy seeing how she treated Carrie and other kids not as nuisances, but showed they mattered?
He closed his eyes as if that would block his memory of holding her against him for those fleeting seconds. Now, he looked on as she reached out with her free hand to gently adjust a couple of flowers in a vase.
Useless observations, feelings that could go nowhere. You would do nothing but disappoint her. She wants children, and you can barely do right by your one child.
Jerrod had walked over to the yacht club, arriving early. The shingled white building had long narrow windows with blue-and-white stained-glass fan-shaped transoms. So much of Two Moon Bay had been built in a more modest time, but this building was new and spoke of a town on the rise. Rather than coming inside from the lot, which was starting to fill up with cars, he’d walked to the room-size verandah in the front and looked at the view on the balmy night before entering the club.
Standing just inside the double doors, he’d found a vantage point where, at least for the moment, he could stand back and observe Dawn doing her work for the event.
Sooner or later, Dawn was sure to sense she was being watched, so he stepped into the room. “Hello,” he called out as he took a few steps to approach her.
She glanced up and looked over her glasses. His gut jolted just a little at the way her face lit up.
“Your big night has arrived. You look…uh, ready.” He’d almost used a different word. Gorgeous had come to mind. Her subtle frown told him she thought it odd he’d stumbled over such an ordinary word.
“I am ready—we are, I should say. It took a ton of volunteers to make this happen. The Half Moon Café crew pulled up to the side door of the kitchen a few minutes ago, so I wanted to be sure the centerpieces were in place.”
“They look great,” he said. “And the room looks like there’s a party about to happen. Much different from the setup they did for my talk here.” Instead of a center aisle separating rows of folding chairs, the room now was filled with clusters of round tables, some tall and meant for standing and others with seating for four. The verandah was arranged similarly. The bar was near the door and offered a couple of kinds of Silver Moon wine, local beer and flavored iced tea.
Dawn leaned in closer. “I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s a lot of fun to come over here in the midst of a winter storm. Bill and I used to bundle up Gordon and drop by. They board up the glass walls right after their New Year’s Eve open house and open them up again the first day of spring—unless we’re in the middle of a March blizzard, which has been known to happen.”
He stared at the lake, relatively flat in only a light breeze on the late July evening. Hearing her talk about winter brought to mind the decision he had to make, and soon. Only recently had he begun to consider the possibility of staying in Two Moon Bay through the winter. The town was growing on him and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to head back to Key West when his summer season was over. Could be he’d see the lake in its winter wildness. Then again, maybe not. So far, he’d kept this dilemma to himself. It was his choice to make, no one else’s.
“And when the waves hit the rocks in front of the verandah, the spray covers everything,” Dawn was saying. “You can find photos on the internet of Two Moon Bay in the dead of winter and the brave souls who come to take pictures.”
“Nelson said the yacht club might stay open year-round,” he said. “They’re thinking of creating a wine bar with music on the weekends.”
“Listen to you, already up on the local gossip.” The lilt in her voice bordered on intimate. “Well, if I had a vote, I’d be all for it.”
“I always enjoy hearing you talk about this place you love so much.” Before she had a chance to respond, he looked past her at the two women rolling carts through the door. “Looks like they’re putting the food out.”
Dawn glanced behind her, but quickly turned back to him. “Tara from the Half Moon Café is in charge of that, so I don’t have to give it a thought.”
“You mean the whole world isn’t on your shoulders tonight? Is that a first?”
She narrowed her eyes and lowered her head—mighty flirtatiously, at least her expression struck him that way.
“Isn’t that something? I can take a breath. The crowd is arriving and the food and drinks are underway. The Art for Life board will take over now.”
“If that’s the case, can I buy you a drink?” He hadn’t heard that tone in his voice in a long time. When it came to flirting, he could give as good as he got.
“Yes, you can,” she said, grinning. “I’d love a glass of Silver Moon chardonnay. Everything is local tonight.”
After getting their drinks at the cash bar they went out to the verandah and sat at a table for two next to the knee-high brick wall that sat on top of the slope leading to the stony beach.
“A quiet night,” he said. “Out here, that is.”
“It’s an interlude for me,” she said. “This fund-raiser is one of my main summer volunteer projects. Then later the sidewalk sale needs my attention, too. And then I’m done organizing this kind of event for a little while.” She took a sip of her wine. “But for tonight, I can be an attendee like everyone else.”
“I imagine you’ll see lots of old friends,” he said, already a little envious of her familiarity with almost everyone whose path she crossed.
She didn’t respond in words, but saw something out of the corner of her eye and then she waved Nelson and Zeke over to their table. Jerrod was secretly glad he’d led Dawn to a table with only two chairs. The two men could stop by, but they likely wouldn’t stay.
“Here are a couple of old friends now.”
“New friends for me.” He stood and shook hands with both men. Remembering Zeke’s dad, he asked if Art had come along.
“Nah, thanks for asking, but he wasn’t feeling up to a party.” Zeke flashed a lopsided grin. “Besides, he thinks the yacht club is a bit too highfalutin.”
Dawn let out a mock groan. “Some people around here can’t stand a little sophistication.”
“That’s my dad,” Zeke said. “Give him a broken-down building and add some buckets and bins and call it a store.”
“That old argument about progress aside, you did a nice job here, Dawn.” Nelson looked inside the room. “The line is shorter now, so I’ll go and get myself some of that food before it’s gone.” Glancing at Jerrod, he added, “It’s good see you here.”
With Zeke and Nelson gone, Jerrod remarked about how easy it was to deal with businesses in Two Moon Bay. “It isn’t that way everywhere. Rob said the other day that people around here assume the best about a person, not the worst.” He grinned. “We’ve dealt with all kinds of troublesome people in a few locations. None as friendly as the folks here.”
“I love hearing that about my hometown.” She tapped her temple. “Oops, I almost forgot to mention that Gordon will be home soon,” Dawn said. “He asked about diving with you. As long as there are openings. He’s got his certification now.” She seemed to hesitate, but then added, “I think he wants to learn from you, hang around and watch how you handle a boat. He got so much out of being with all of you on the Fourth. He’s interested in both wrecks, but it really goes beyond that. You made quite an impression on him.”
“He did on me, as well. And my Carrie took a shine to him.”
For a few more minutes, they sipped their drinks quietly and without interruption. But suddenly, a woman appeared in the doorway, raising her hand in the air to get Dawn’s attention.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, soon disappearing inside.
Jerrod moved from the table to an empty spot against the verandah wall. He wasn’t alone for long before a man joined him, introducing himself as Miles Jenkins.
“At these events in town, I’m Lark McGee’s husband,” Miles joked. “I’m a newcomer like you. It’s my first time at this event,” Miles said. “Lark enjoys volunteering for it. Dawn sure works hard for Art for Life.”
“I guess she does that for all her clients.” Oh, no. The words were okay, but his grudging tone was all wrong.
Miles jerked his head back, laughing in surprise. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Of course… I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wasn’t dismissing what she does…”
“Because all her clients get the same five-star treatment?” Miles asked, still amused.
“Exactly.” Miles accurately picked up on his petty wish that Dawn would view him as special. It was time to steer this conversation in another direction. “Is Lark with Dawn now?”
“Yes, she’s helping Dawn and the event’s emcee juggle the program,” Miles explained. “Apparently, one of the teachers scheduled to speak on behalf of the schools’ art and music programs had to pull out at the last minute. Her replacement is on her way from Bratton.”
“A fire to put out,” Jerrod remarked.
“I see a lot of this last-minute stuff in my work,” Miles said. “Nobody puts out more brush fires than an event planner, and I work with many of them.”
“I’m less dependent on people than I am on the weather,” Jerrod observed. “But I’ve been lucky so far this year.”
“I wish I could be home more to enjoy it, but I’m also glad to land new consulting clients and speaking gigs, even if they mean leaving on short trips.” Miles pointed at the buffet tables. “We probably shouldn’t wait to get in the buffet line. I don’t have a long history of being the guy on Lark’s arm at these affairs, but my limited experience tells me Lark and Dawn might be gone awhile. I don’t think they’d want us to wait for them. They’ll catch a few bites of dinner when they can.”
“You’re the escort, huh?” Jerrod joked as they went inside. It sounded as if Miles was giving him some advice, one man to another. And what did it hurt that Miles thought Jerrod was Dawn’s date?
Something about hanging out with Miles made him feel included as a local in a way he hadn’t been, even in Key West. He didn’t blame anyone for that. With a few exceptions, he and Augusta had made little attempt to become part of the year-round community. Maybe because they were busy with the girls, and their crew of four to six or even eight at times was like a big extended family. They also were on the move a lot. But here in Two Moon Bay, Nelson was more than his landlord, and Zeke wasn’t only the guy who ran the marine supply store. And Dawn was more than the paid PR consultant. A friend. A good friend, he insisted, as if debating the point with himself.
Jerrod and Miles filled their plates with roast beef and salmon and various salads and went to the verandah when the program started. They could see the podium and the speakers using the mic allowed them to hear the series of impassioned speeches about the value of keeping art, music and theater in the schools.
When they were done, Miles said he hoped they raised a ton of money. “The district puts plenty of money into sports, and that’s fine. Brooke and Evan both play sports. But I don’t like the idea of taking away any chance to play an instrument or sing in the chorus, too.” Miles paused long enough to take a breath. “I know I’m letting my disgust show.”
Jerrod chuckled. “Hey, you’ll get no argument from me. I’m just impressed by the kind of energy Dawn has for these things. Clearly, Lark shares that trait.”
Miles’s expression turned curiously tender when he said, “That’s one reason I admire both women.”
It was nearing dusk when the Half Moon Café’s van drove off and Lark left with Miles, leaving Jerrod to banter with Zeke over the current state of tourism. According to Zeke, Two Moon Bay was on the upswing, along with Door County and the whole region. Maintaining his cheerful mood to the end, Zeke said his goodbyes and headed home.
“You hung around?” Dawn said, surprised.
He was at a loss to explain why. Instead he mentioned something about wanting to see if she needed help.
She tilted her head and seemed to study him. “Uh, if you have time, there’s a spot only a little way down the shore I’d like to show you. It might be a good place to bring Carrie for a picnic.”
Now? She wanted to go for a walk now?
“I suppose I have the time. Carrie is home with Melody.” He pointed to her shoes. “Can you walk on the grass or the stones in those?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got flats in my car.”
“I might have known.”
Saying she’d be right back, she spoke to a couple of people on her way out. He stepped out the side door and waited by the shore for her. What kind of place would she want to show him when it was nearly dark?
* * *
DAWN SHOVED HER feet into flats. It was a warm night, so she decided against bringing her sweater. They wouldn’t be out that long. When she came back to join Jerrod, the cleanup committee was starting to turn off the kitchen lights. A few guests lingered in the parking lot, talking. She was feeling emboldened by…what? Not the grand success of the event or even Jerrod’s presence there.
She thought about the flashes of tenderness in his expression when she caught him looking at her earlier that evening and on Lucy Bee the other day. And they’d had moments. The delight she saw in his face when he found her in the park. Her face probably showed the same happiness. They’d had a couple of embraces that weren’t easy to label. Except that she could barely breathe. But then, neither could he.
In her mind’s eye, she remembered how his face brightened when she and Lark had happened to run into him at the Bean Grinder. It wasn’t her imagination. He wasn’t only surprised—he was happy to see her. Later that day, when she’d carried her new dress out of the boutique, she’d decided she’d no longer question why he dominated her thoughts. She’d go with it and see what happened.
He was her client, true, but their feelings most likely wouldn’t harm their working relationship. Besides, the risk was worth it.
When she reached him, she said, “Follow me,” in a feigned mysterious tone.
“It must be quite a place.”
She led him away from the yacht club and toward the lakefront park. “I’m taking you through the woods, well, a little patch of forest, anyway.”
“Whatever. You’ve succeeded in making me very curious.”
They soon left the beach behind and crossed over a small footbridge to a wooded area that looked like the end of the natural walking path along the lake. “Even locals sometimes stop here, but there’s more to see.”
“The shore here is beautiful at dusk, isn’t it?” Jerrod remarked.
“I know—the sunset colors to the west sometimes tint the water and the trees a pretty shade of pink. It makes this place even more special.”
The woods gradually thinned out until they reached a strip of land that jutted into the water and then curved around the shore. Still walking, she pointed to the single maple tree standing alone. A picnic table sat under its protective branches. “There it is, the perfect tree in a nearly secluded spot.”
“It seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if it’s not connected to the woods we just came from.”
“Exactly. I don’t know why, but for as long as I can remember, the tree has stood here by itself. The city owns the land. It’s basically the end of the Two Moon Bay waterfront. Beyond this point and over another footbridge cottages dot the shore for about another half mile.”
“Oh, those are the cottages I see from Lucy Bee.” He grinned. “I’ll bring Carrie down—or perhaps invite the whole crew and take a picture and write a blog post about it. My PR consultant is always encouraging me to do that sort of thing.”
“Yep. It would be something different. Most of all, I had a feeling you’d like it.” She looked at the picnic bench and knew she’d miscalculated. No way could she sit down on it in her brand new dress. “I was going to suggest sitting, but it’s too dirty.”
“Let’s walk a little way down the beach, then,” Jerrod suggested. “I’m game if you are.”
Good. He hadn’t suggested going back. It bought her a little time to gather her courage. “I have something on my mind. I want to talk with you about it. That’s my ulterior motive for suggesting a walk.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“I’ll bet you can guess,” she said, leading the way across the second narrow bridge and onto a patch of sand and weeds.
“Ah, no. Is there something wrong? A problem we need to address?”
“It’s personal, Jerrod.” She stopped and turned to face him. “It seems like one of us has to acknowledge the proverbial elephant in the room, and it might as well be me.”
The flicker in his warm eyes revealed surprise.
Without adding to her preamble, she blurted, “I like you, Jerrod. I get the sense you like me, too. Maybe we should acknowledge this thing between us?”
His head jerked back. In an instant, the air around her changed. The sound of the waves lapping the shore grew louder. The slightly fishy smell in the air intensified.
Jerrod grimaced, as if in pain, and looked past her, gazing out into space. What happened? She couldn’t have been that wrong. She hoped.
“Say something, will you?” Was he going to leave her standing there feeling like a fool?
“I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry.” He took a couple of steps away from her. “You don’t want to like me in any way other than as a client and friend. Good friend.”
In for a penny and in for a pound. In an instant that old saying had popped into her head. Why? Maybe because she was trembling inside and wasn’t thinking straight. But the adage fit. She’d taken a chance and might as well commit to it all the way. “Is that so? Well, then, go ahead, tell me. Why is that?”
“Because I’m no good to anyone.” He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled in obvious frustration. “Coming here to try out a new location for my business is the first substantial step I’ve taken in two years.”
“Since the awful tragedy.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. She’d understood that. He didn’t need to point that out.
“Yes. But a few moves in the right direction don’t mean I have anything…uh, anything to give you.” He planted one hand on his hip, and widened his stance. “This is all wrong. You have so much to offer the right person. You should find someone who can freely take what you want to share. You’re a special—”
“Don’t you dare patronize me with empty flattery.” Her voice rose on each word.
“I’m not.” He lifted his hands in the air, appearing helpless to find the right response. “I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s obvious to anyone who knows you.”
“Yeah, well, my ex-husband told me how special I was as he tossed his clothes in a couple of suitcases and carried them out the door. I was still so special when he shoved them in the back seat of his car and drove off to Carla’s house.” She paused and in a lower voice added, “I’m not kidding. And the next time I saw Bill he still went on about how smart I am and how he’d fallen so hard for me. Oh, and by the way, we built such a great life.”
“Dawn…please. I’m sorry.”
She pretended he hadn’t interrupted and kept on going. “But he fell in love with someone else all the same. So, forgive me if I don’t want pat reassurances about how terrific I am.”
Jerrod shifted his stance. “I know you won’t like to hear this cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. I’m the one who’s emotionally numb—dead. You’re a woman with enthusiasm for life—you understand joy. I give all I can to be any kind of a dad at all. To my one child. I’ve got nothing left over to give.”
Defeated and drained, she let her shoulders slump forward. “You’re a really good dad, Jerrod,” she whispered. “Don’t sell yourself short.” She could be such a fool sometimes. Here she was, reassuring him.
“It’s easy to say that now, because that’s what you see. But if you asked Rob and Wyatt, they’d tell you the truth about me. For the first six months after Augusta and Dabny were killed, my precious little three-year-old had a nanny—and lucky for her, Rob and Wyatt and others on my staff were a substitute family.” He kicked at the stones on the ground. “I was barely able to function.”
“Maybe so, but from the outside, it seems you’re doing really well now.” She took a few steps back and raised her hands, palms out, her way to create an even wider boundary separating them. “I completely misread the signals.” Not really, she thought, but no matter. She had to take the blame and escape. “Forget I said anything. Write it off as my mistake.”
She managed to glance at him, but quickly looked away. “We should go.” She rubbed her bare arms. “It’s cooling off and it could get buggy, too.”
“Dawn, really, you need to trust me on this.” It sounded like a plea. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get past what happened to my family. But except for the way I am with Carrie now, I’m like a stone inside.” He lowered his head. “That’s all I can say.”
He wasn’t a stone when he’d had his arms around her. His eyes weren’t stone, either. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Okay. It’s over and done with. We’ll go back to having a friendly consultant-client relationship.”
Still gathering her thoughts, she turned toward the path back to the yacht club. Keeping her voice even, neutral, she said, “My son admires you, and I enjoy working with you.”
“I don’t want anything to change, Dawn. Not in the least.”
“Then let’s pretend we never had this conversation.” Or act as if he’s never gazed at her—more than once—with soft, hungry eyes. The near kiss, the intimate conversation. That had fueled her stupid idea of laying her cards on the table. Maybe he’d meant nothing by the kind of attention he gave her, but he was still wrong to deny it.
She gave herself credit for putting on a good display of how well she could handle rejection. Wasn’t that part of being so special? Correction, it wasn’t rejection, only a misunderstanding. A much nicer word they’d both use now by silent agreement. But she fumed inside as she led the way on the path, an obvious departure from their earlier side-by-side stroll. When they reached her car she didn’t trust herself to say much more than a quick good night.
“I’ll see you next week for the radio interviews,” she managed to say in a reasonably normal voice. “We’re meeting at nine in your office to do some prep for them.”
“I’ve got it in my calendar,” he said quickly. “It’s a tour day, and I’m letting Wyatt and Rob handle it. And you were going to let Gordon dive with us next week. Is…well, is that still okay?”
“Absolutely,” she said, head held high. “Like I told you, he admires you. I would never interfere with that.” She opened her car door and waved. “See you.”
He waved back. She put the car in Reverse and backed out of the spot. Wow, she thought, pulling onto the street. When she made mistakes they were almost never insignificant little nothings. No, not her. This was a real whopper.
Her emotions surprised her, though. She might have been really hurt—oh, she was bruised, all right—but wasn’t humiliated or in pain from rejection.
Maybe because she didn’t believe him.