Read 50 Harbor Street Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

50 Harbor Street (5 page)

Eight

“L
et me look at you,” Corrie McAfee said as Linnette headed toward the front door of the house on Harbor Street, ready to leave for her dinner date with Cal Washburn. She’d stayed with her parents for the last few nights.

“Mom,” Linnette protested. It wasn’t as if she cared whether or not she made a good impression on this blind date. The fact that she was stuck going out with Cal was irritating enough without having to withstand her mother’s scrutiny.

Corrie stepped back to inspect her daughter’s appearance and smiled approvingly. Then, apparently noticing a speck of lint, Corrie brushed it away from Linnette’s shoulder. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Linnette hadn’t gone to any effort. The long black suede skirt and white sweater weren’t new. The knee-high boots were from last year and her jewelry was a simple locket and gold earrings. She was presentable, and that was good enough. The last thing she wanted to do was impress this cowpoke.

Her intention was to fulfill her obligation and, if possible,
enjoy the meal. If Cal asked her out again, she’d simply have to explain that she needed time to settle into her new home. In other words, she’d contact him when and if she was interested. She didn’t want to lead him on; as far as she was concerned, this was one date and one date only.

“Have a wonderful time,” her mother said.

“Mom, don’t!” Linnette groaned. “I hate it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Her mother frowned, her expression completely baffled.

“You have all these expectations about me and Cal, and it’s so unfair.”

“What is?” Roy asked, walking into the living room where the two women stood.

“Both of you,” Linnette cried.

“Hey, what did I do?” Roy asked, glancing at Corrie.

Linnette gestured at them. “It’s like you’ve got me married to…to some man I haven’t even met. Is it any wonder I don’t want to go on this stupid date?”

Her father reached for
The Cedar Cove Chronicle
and shrugged. “Then don’t go.”

Corrie gasped. “I paid good money for this dinner. I want you to go out with him at least once. It would be rude to phone at the last minute and cancel.”

Linnette had thought of that herself. As much as she wanted out of this, she refused to be unkind about it. But now that she had her parents’ attention, there was another matter she needed to bring up.

“I want to know more about those postcards you’ve been receiving.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed accusingly on her mother.

Before he could blame Corrie for betraying confidences, Linnette explained how she knew. “I found one, Dad,
so don’t get all bent out of shape. She tried to keep your scary little secret, but I read one of those postcards.”

“We haven’t had any more in the last week,” Corrie added quickly. She hesitated, then turned to Roy. “Have we?”

Roy’s frown darkened his entire face. “No. And the subject is closed.” With that, he sat down and hid behind the newspaper.

“But…”

“It won’t do any good to question him,” her mother whispered. She silently pleaded with her to drop the subject.

Linnette already knew how stubborn and unreasonable her father could be. She was furious that he’d excluded her like this. He did the same thing to Mack. Linnette found it chilling that her own father could pretend she wasn’t there, seeking answers, needing reassurance. He didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t asking these questions because she was intruding on their business. Her concern was genuine.

“I’d better leave now,” she said, retrieving the suede jacket that matched her skirt.

Cal had agreed to meet her at The Lighthouse, the finest restaurant in town, at seven. Linnette was prepared to pay for the dinner if it came to that, but she hoped Cal would offer, since she wasn’t on the clinic payroll yet. Her mother had paid big bucks for this guy, although Linnette wasn’t sure precisely how much. She knew it was over four hundred dollars each for Cal and the dog, who was definitely worth her share of the money. In Linnette’s humble opinion, Cal should be the one paying the tab for tonight’s dinner. Nevertheless, she had enough cash to cover it, unless he ordered expensive drinks.

“Have a good time,” Corrie said again as she walked Linnette to the door.

Linnette didn’t think that was possible. “Any words of wisdom?” she asked in a resigned voice.

The question appeared to please her mother. “I don’t know much about Cal. However, Grace Sherman at the library says he’s a wonderful man but shy, so you might have to carry the conversation.”

Linnette had already figured that. With his stutter, it might be difficult to have much of a conversation at all. Linnette was afraid this evening would be torture. She knew it was going to be a struggle not to finish his sentences for him. Doing that would be terribly impolite and, of course, Cal would resent it, with good reason.

Linnette wasn’t looking forward to going home that night, either; her mother would almost certainly be waiting up to interrogate her about the evening with Cal. But Linnette had a few questions of her own. She hoped to learn more about these postcards so she could tell her brother. Linnette felt they had a right to know that their parents were in potential danger.

If her father’s reaction to a simple question was any indication, she could forget about any hope of shared information from him. He wasn’t talking, but she might be able to persuade her mother to drop a few hints.

When she reached the restaurant, Linnette parked in the only available spot and walked up the steps to The Lighthouse foyer. Funny, she’d never thought to ask Cal what he looked like. Now, standing in a foyer crowded with people, all waiting to be seated, she glanced around, hoping she’d somehow recognize him. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a number of single men milling about.

Wanting to avoid the embarrassment of asking strangers their names, Linnette decided there must be a logical way to do this. Cal would probably be wearing cowboy boots. Unfortunately, that meant she was walking around with her head down, staring at everyone’s feet.

She found a man with a polished pair of boots and raised
her head. She immediately dismissed him as a possibility. He was far too old. Her survey continued. Scuffed boots—too young. Snakeskin boots—nope. Too urban.

“Linnette?”

She abruptly looked up and nearly collided with a lean, wiry man of about thirty-five. He wore a cowboy hat and western-style jacket with leather patches on the sleeves and—yes, indeed—cowboy boots. Linnette’s expectations hadn’t been high, but if this was Cal Washburn, he far exceeded her hopes. He was a pleasant-looking man, not striking, but obviously in good shape. Brown hair and eyes, prominent cheekbones, a solid jaw and surprise of surprises, a warm smile.

“Cal?”

He nodded. “I h-have a reservation.” With his hand at the small of her back, he directed her to the desk.

The woman behind the counter looked at them expectantly.

“W-Washburn,” Cal said.

She scanned the list and scratched out his name when she located it on the reservation sheet. Reaching for two menus, she said, “Your table is ready.”

Linnette had no idea The Lighthouse restaurant did such a rousing business. It hadn’t occurred to her to make reservations, and she was grateful Cal had.

Once they were seated, Linnette opened her menu, studied the selections and chose the seafood fettuccini with clams, scallops and Hood Canal shrimp. It sounded appetizing—and was affordably priced. She’d stick to the free rolls for her appetizer.

The waiter came for their drink order and Linnette decided on iced tea. Cal asked for a whiskey sour. Remembering that her funds were limited, Linnette opened her menu again to
see if there was a price list for mixed drinks. Yes—to her horror, it was made with premium whiskey and cost almost ten dollars.

After their drinks arrived, they made small talk, with Linnette doing most of the talking, just as she’d assumed she would. Cal seemed interested in her work as a physician assistant and was impressed that she could prescribe medications and treat minor injuries. She described the first times she’d sutured a wound and put on a cast and how nervous she’d been.

The waiter returned for their meal order and it was as if Cal had only recently discovered food. He ordered a crab-and-artichoke dip for an appetizer, plus a dinner salad with shrimp. The seafood topping cost extra. For his entrée, he chose a T-bone steak.

Linnette casually looked at the menu a second time and checked on the price of the steak. According to her calculations, his tab alone would add up to all the cash she carried.

“Is s-something wr-rong?” Cal inquired.

She leaned closer and tried to figure out a way to explain that she was on a limited budget, but couldn’t. It was just too humiliating. “N-nothing,” she assured him.

“You stutter?” His eyes widened as though he’d met his soul mate.

“No.” She shook her head. “Cal, I—” She began to explain that they might need to split the bill, but just then the waiter delivered the rolls and the appetizer.

Despite her predictions, Linnette actually had an enjoyable time. She relaxed after she started eating. Cal insisted she have a glass of wine with her meal; the expense was more than she could afford, but she let him talk her into it. When she tasted the chardonnay, she was glad she’d succumbed. The wine was not only delicious, it went a long way toward calming her nerves.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that Cal ordered dessert—New York-style cheesecake, no less. He also requested two forks.

“I couldn’t,” she insisted, placing both hands on her stomach.

“One taste,” Cal said.

“We bake it here at the restaurant,” the waiter told her. “It’s our most popular dessert.”

“All right,” she acquiesced, “one taste.”

Linnette ended up eating most of it. She didn’t normally like heavy desserts, but this was exceptional—the best she’d ever tasted.

They lingered over coffee, and then the waiter brought the bill, tucked inside a leather sleeve. It stood in the middle of the table, impossible to ignore. By her estimate—she’d kept a running total in her head until the wine, at which point she’d lost count—the tab far exceeded her cash. Granted, she had her VISA, but she was already close to her limit on that. For a long moment, Linnette stared at the bill, still concealed in its folder, and prayed this man her mother considered such a paragon would reach for it.

He didn’t.

Linnette was beginning to worry. “Shall we split this?” she suggested.

Cal picked up the bill and looked it over. He didn’t say what her half would be. “I’ll t-t-take care of it on the way out,” he said.

Linnette nodded.

“I had a nice time.” He seemed as astonished as she was.

“I did, too.”

“You aren’t l-l-like I ex-x-x-pected.”

“Neither are you.”

He glanced at his watch. “Can I w-walk you to your v-v-vehi—car?”

She shook her head. “You go on, while I pay my half of the bill. Thank you, Cal, for a most enjoyable evening.”

“Y-y-you’re welcome.” He dropped his napkin on the table and stood.

The restaurant wasn’t as busy as it had been earlier. Several couples sat with their heads close together, enjoying each other’s company. Some evening Linnette hoped that would be Chad Timmons and her.

Once Cal had left, Linnette sighed deeply and decided she’d better figure out what she owed. She reached for the bill and was shocked to find it had already been paid. Frowning, she motioned for the waiter. “This is completely paid? The tip, too?”

“Yes, the gentleman made arrangements with the restaurant before you arrived. He left his credit card with the hostess.”

“Oh.” He might’ve said something. Still, Linnette felt she should thank him. However, when she hurried out to the parking lot, Cal was already gone.

Nine

I
t was the first Tuesday of November, the day Charlotte and Ben were having dinner with his son. That afternoon, she sorted through her closet in search of a dress to wear. She finally decided on the pink-and-white one she’d purchased for her wedding reception. With its row of tiny ribbon rosebuds edging the collar it made her feel feminine and attractive. Although the outfit was better suited for spring than autumn, she hoped to make a positive impression on David.

“How do I look?” she asked Ben, stepping out of the bedroom and brushing the wrinkles out of her skirt. She waited for her husband’s approval.

Ben glanced up from the television set and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked, crestfallen. She wanted to do her husband proud.

“You went to far too much trouble. You don’t need to impress David.”

“But…I want your son to like me.”

“I know, dear, and I appreciate that, but it isn’t necessary. I suspect the only reason David asked us to have dinner is to see if I’ll give him another loan.” Ben’s face hardened. “I re
fuse to do it. I told him that the last time and I’m not going to change my mind.” He shook his head. “Just watch. We’ll get stuck with the bill, too.”

“Oh, Ben, I’m sure that’s not true. Anyway, he invited us.”

“Yeah, but you can bet I’ll be paying the tab.”

“Oh, Ben, don’t be so negative.”

Ben didn’t argue with her. She could tell he was nervous and that he regretted agreeing to this. He revealed no pleasure at seeing David or the prospect of a rare evening out in downtown Seattle.

While it was still daylight, Ben and Charlotte drove over to Bremerton and walked onto the Seattle-bound ferry. During the hour-long commute, Ben was uncharacteristically silent. They held hands and sipped coffee, and Charlotte watched Bainbridge Island fade into the distance as the Seattle skyline came into view. It really was a lovely time of year in Puget Sound. By the end of the month, Christmas decorations would be up, and a festive spirit would suffuse Cedar Cove.

Once the ferry docked in Seattle, Ben ushered Charlotte down the ramp and out of the terminal. They took one of the taxis waiting on the street outside and rode up to Martini’s Steakhouse, the restaurant David had chosen.

Ben led Charlotte to an elevator that brought them to the lower floor. As she stepped off, her interest was immediately captured by the signed photographs of famous people who’d dined at Martini’s.

A man who could only be Ben’s son sat in the restaurant foyer. He was handsome, a younger version of his father with dark hair and a strong presence. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Ben and Charlotte.

“Hello, David.” Ben spoke without emotion.

“Dad,” David said eagerly, standing. He hugged his father
and slapped him affectionately on the back. When he’d finished, he gave Charlotte a warm smile.

“This is Charlotte,” Ben said, placing his arm protectively around her shoulders.

David held out his arms and drew her into an enthusiastic hug. “I am so delighted to finally meet you,” he said. “You’ve made my father a very happy man.”

Charlotte was instantly charmed. Ben didn’t have a thing to worry about, she decided; this was certain to be a wonderful evening. When David released her, she looked at Ben and found him scowling. She couldn’t imagine why he was being so unpleasant.

David’s smile dimmed slightly as he regarded his father. “Come on, Dad,” he said. “Relax. Let’s enjoy the evening.”

“Yes,” Charlotte chimed in. “I’m meeting your son for the first time and we’re going to have a great meal. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

David directed his attention to her as they waited for the hostess to return from seating the couple in front of them. “I can’t tell you how sorry I was to miss the wedding,” he said, avoiding his father’s eye.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to my children,” Charlotte told him happily. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to meet them soon.”

“I’m sure I will, too. Again I apologize about missing the big day but summer’s an especially busy time for me.”

“What do you do?” Charlotte asked, and refrained from reminding him that they were married the first week of May, which was actually spring.

“I work in insurance,” David said. “It’s difficult to explain but I deal with actuaries and statistics.”

“Oh, yes.” Charlotte nodded. “All of that’s beyond me. Clyde always took care of that sort of thing. I’m grateful he
did. Clyde was my first husband,” she told him. Although he’d been gone almost twenty-five years, Clyde had seen to Charlotte’s financial needs before his death. She would be forever grateful.

The hostess seemed to be waiting for them to finish their conversation.

“Our table’s ready,” Ben said, steering them toward the young woman.

They were quickly seated, and Charlotte took the opportunity to look around. A single glance convinced her that this was one of the finest restaurants she’d ever been inside. To date, the most elegant restaurant she’d eaten in belonged to her own granddaughter, Justine. Justine and Seth owned The Lighthouse in Cedar Cove and had made a brilliant success of it. She was near to bursting with pride about her granddaughter, who’d had the good sense to marry a solid man like Seth Gunderson. When David visited Cedar Cove, she’d make sure he had a chance to dine at The Lighthouse.

Their waiter approached the table, wheeling a cart, and with a good deal of ceremony revealed virtually a complete menu. Her head spun as he displayed and then described each item. When he was finished, they were given a price list. Charlotte studied it and gasped aloud. But, my goodness, it all looked so delicious. She made a mental note to tell Justine every detail she could remember. Her granddaughter would want to know about this. After the elaborate presentation, she ordered the grilled swordfish and both men ordered steaks.

The meal was superb and so was the service. The conversation, too, was enjoyable. David had an engaging manner and did most of the talking. He chatted about the weather and recent movies and how he planned to go to Vegas for Christmas. Ben remained stubbornly quiet, as he had before; it was up to
Charlotte to respond to his son’s questions and remarks. The one irritation was David’s cell phone, which rang four times during the course of their meal.

After the fourth call, Ben snapped, “Turn that damn thing off.”

“Sorry.” David did look apologetic as he reached for his cell and pushed a button. The telephone sang a brief song and then went silent.

Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the waiter who brought coffee to their table with several varieties of sugar from which to choose. Charlotte was quite taken with the hard candy sticks that looked like something out of a confectionary store.

Over coffee, David grew quiet. “You might’ve guessed why I wanted to meet with you, Dad,” he said as he stirred in the cream.

“David, if this is about money—”

“Dad, I’m in a tight spot.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” David asked with barely suppressed anger.

Ben’s shoulders heaved as if he’d inhaled sharply in an effort to control his own annoyance. “Since you put it like that, the answer is
won’t.
I refuse to give you another dime. You haven’t paid back the last two loans. I’d be a fool to give you more.”

“I’m good for it. I promise.”

“That’s what you said last time and the time before that. Why should I believe you now?”

“Because it’s true. Dad, do you think it’s easy, coming to you like this? Do you think I’d do this if I had any other options?”

He seemed about to say more but Charlotte could see that
his arguments increased Ben’s irritation. “How much do you need?” she asked. She didn’t mean to intrude, but if it was a reasonable amount then perhaps Ben wouldn’t mind so much.

“Five thousand,” he said after a moment. “That’s considerably less than I needed before,” he added with a hopeful expression.

“What do you need it for?” Charlotte asked, wanting to help and not knowing how. Her questions didn’t please Ben, she could see that, but she felt badly for the young man.

David shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

“The usual, no doubt,” Ben cut in. “His credit cards are maxed out, he hasn’t paid his taxes and he’s paying alimony for two ex-wives.”

“I’m getting a bonus this Christmas,” David said. “I only need the money for a couple of months, just to carry me through. You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. I’m telling you, Dad, money pressures are the worst. I can’t sleep nights. I can hardly eat.”

“You certainly didn’t have a problem tonight,” Ben pointed out. David had obviously enjoyed his meal, and Charlotte was glad of that after seeing those prices. Fifty years ago, she could’ve fed her family for a week for the price of a single steak.

David looked hurt. “This is the first decent meal I’ve had in ages. You have to know how difficult this is for me. There’s no one else I can ask.”

“I’m sure it’s painful to ask for a loan,” Charlotte said sympathetically.

David thanked her for her understanding with a smile. “I swear to you, Dad, I’ll pay you back. I don’t know what’ll happen if you turn me down.”

“How old are you now?” Ben asked his son.

David straightened slightly. “Forty-three.”

“Really,” Charlotte said conversationally. “I would’ve guessed much younger.”

David ignored her, holding his father’s eyes.

“Forty-three is old enough to stand on your own two feet and stop expecting someone else to bail you out.”

David’s shoulders slumped.

Charlotte felt dreadful for him, but she couldn’t advise Ben when it came to dealing with his own child. She reached for Ben’s hand under the table and he gripped it hard.

“I told you the last time that I’m not lending you another dime, and I’m sticking to that. I have to, David. I’m sorry you’re experiencing financial troubles, but apparently you didn’t learn your lesson.”

“You’re telling me
no.

“I am. Save your breath, because no amount of talking will change my mind.”

David didn’t argue, didn’t get upset, but nodded as if he understood.

“So far, all I’ve taught you is to come to me when you have money problems and that isn’t healthy for either of us.”

“I agree,” David said reluctantly.

“You pay me back what you owe from the first two loans, and then we’ll discuss future possibilities.”

David pinched his lips together and nodded again. Pushing out his chair, he stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get back to my hotel. Thank you for the pleasant dinner. Charlotte, I think the smartest thing my father’s done in the last fifteen years was marrying you.”

Charlotte blushed with pleasure. “Thank you, David.”

He bowed slightly and walked out of the room.

With his exit, the waiter walked over to the table and promptly delivered the bill.

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