Farewell to Cedar Key Page 9

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, Estelle Fletcher is a hoot. Elderly woman who lives in the condo across from mine. Her husband passed away last year, but she’s pretty independent, not to mention feisty. In addition to being a psychic.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “No! Seriously? She thinks she’s a psychic?”

  “Oh, trust me. She doesn’t think it. She says she has the gift, and she’s dead serious.”

  The building where Grant now lived had been part of the ancient and historic Danvers State Hospital. Perched high on a hill overlooking the town, it had closed its doors in the 1990s and then over the years fell into a state of disrepair with numerous rumors about ghosts and spirits. A developer had bought the land and turned the buildings into a luxury condo complex.

  “Hmm,” I said. “Interesting. I remember your mother driving me past there once when I was visiting, and she told me quite a few stories about the structure and patients. It sounded like a horrible place; just the sight of that gothic structure gave me the creeps. I couldn’t believe it was the same place when you sent me the photos. Maybe this Estelle just got caught up in the drama of the history behind the building.”

  I heard Grant chuckle. “Yeah, maybe. Listen, I have to run. I’m due in court. So I’ll e-mail you the flight info. Will you tell Orli to give me a call this evening?”

  “Will do,” I said, hanging up the phone. I smiled as I thought about Estelle and Danvers State. I felt it was all hooey, but I knew that somebody like Berkley Whitmore would gobble up something like this. She was originally from Salem, the next town to Danvers, so no doubt she had a lot of background on the place.

  I scarfed down a quick sandwich for lunch at the yarn shop, locked the door behind me, and headed to the chocolate shop down the street.

  “Hey,” Berkley said as I walked in. “Here to replenish your chocolate supply?”

  “I am. Orli reminded me last night that we need more Cedar Key clams and some truffles. So I’ll take a pound of each. Can’t have us running out of our chocolate. How’s things with you?”

  “Great,” Berkley said, putting on a pair of plastic gloves before bending down to reach into the glass display case. “Oh, Saxton seemed to really enjoy his first knitting class last night. Gosh, he was up till after midnight knitting away on that practice swatch.”

  I laughed. “That’s great. Yeah, I think it went very well, and I was surprised at how quickly they all seemed to catch on.”

  “What’s with this new man in town? Gabe Brunell.”

  “He’s here for the winter, and he’s in the class too. Why?”

  Berkley continued to fill the box with chocolates and looked up to shoot me a smile. “Well, Saxton said that Chloe arrived just as you were finishing and about to have coffee and that she settled herself next to Gabe. He said they were still chatting away when he left.”

  “Yeah, although she won’t admit it, I think she’s attracted to him. He seems like a really nice guy too. From Philly, retired teacher, divorced. They did seem to hit it off, so who knows.”

  “I think it would be nice for her to have a male companion again. She had Cameron for a while, but that really didn’t go anywhere.”

  I nodded. “Oh, hey. I wanted to ask you about Danvers State Hospital. Do you remember it from when you lived in Salem?”

  Berkley stopped putting chocolate in the box and stood up. “Oh, yeah. Why would you want to know about that gruesome place?”

  “That’s where Grant purchased his new condo.”

  “Oh. Really?” She bent back down and continued reaching for chocolates.

  “A developer has turned what was left of the buildings into a luxury condo unit.”

  She nodded and closed both boxes with her signature gold seal. “Yeah, I’d heard that. In all honesty, I couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to live there.”

  “Why not?”

  She shook her shoulders and made a distasteful sound. “That place is so creepy. All the horrors that took place there over so many years with those mental patients. God, some of the stories I heard made it sound like a snake pit. I just don’t think that, after so much sorrow, that place would have very good energy. You know . . . all that bad karma hanging around.”

  I laughed. “Oh, Berkley, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

  She totaled up my sales on the register and shrugged. “I do believe in energy and karma . . . but I don’t mean to offend Grant or his choice of residence. I just know that I couldn’t live there.”

  I reached for the bag. “Thanks. He told me his neighbor is a real character. She sounds like a few people here on the island. Elderly woman, and she claims she’s a psychic.”

  “Really? Well, don’t be so quick to dispute that. People with gifts are drawn to certain places for various reasons. I’ll be interested to hear what you think of the place after you visit there over Christmas.”

  On the ride home I replayed the conversation with Berkley in my mind. I knew she was into all the New Age stuff with crystals and horoscopes and anything to do with the occult. But I wondered if what she’d said could have any truth to it. I knew there were many claims about old houses harboring ghosts. We even had our fair share of those on the island, and I recalled how Saren Ghetti, Sydney’s father, had insisted a lovely ghost named Miss Elly used to visit him every evening for cognac, but most of us just chalked that up to a vivid imagination on his part. By the time I pulled into my driveway I realized that in addition to visiting with Grant and his mother, I was also very much looking forward to meeting Estelle Fletcher.

  14

  I had driven myself to the Island Room, but walking from the car to the restaurant I still had a silly assumption that this evening with Simon was a date and not just a dinner. And from the look on his face when I walked in, I couldn’t help but think that perhaps he felt the same.

  He was already seated at a table by the window but stood up as soon as I walked toward him. I couldn’t miss the head-to-toe glance he gave me or the huge smile covering his face. He looked great in a pair of tan dress slacks and a chocolate-brown, open-collar shirt. I was glad I’d chosen my black and white sundress and the pretty black shrug that I had recently finished knitting.

  “Good to see you again, Josie,” he said, sitting back down. “I’m glad you could join me for dinner. Would you like a drink or some wine?”

  I sat across from him and realized again what a great-looking guy he was, in addition to having a pleasant personality. “Yes. White wine would be nice.”

  After the waiter took our drink order, Simon said, “So you’re doing a knitting class at the yarn shop? How’d that go for you last night?”

  “Oh, very well. The guys caught on even better than I’d expected.”

  “Guys?”

  I saw the look of surprise on his face and smiled. “Yeah. It’s a men’s knitting class and I have four students learning how to knit. One of them is my father.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful. Knitting, along with many other things, has been seen as the domain of women for too long. I’ve never understood the reasoning. Look at all the great male chefs and clothes designers.”

  I liked how this guy thought. “Exactly. I’m afraid up until recently there’s been a stereotype attached to men who knit, but . . . more and more are now coming out of the closet, so to speak. Which I think is great.”

  “I agree. My daughter is quite an accomplished knitter, so I know how enjoyable knitting can be just from watching Lily.”

  Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Oh, I love to hear about young people knitting. We also have a children’s class that we hold at the yarn shop. Has she been knitting since she was a child?”

  “Thanks,” we both said as the waiter placed our wine in front of us.

  “Give us a little while before we order,” Simon told him. “Yes, she began knitting around age ten, I think it was.” He lifted his glass and touched mine. “Here’s to a great working relationship.
”

  I nodded. “Yes, a great working relationship.” I took a sip and then asked, “Does your wife also knit?”

  Simon shook his head. “No, my ex-wife was never into that sort of thing. I’m afraid Stephanie was more caught up in spas, shopping, and socializing.”

  I noticed how he used the word ex in relation to his wife, and I also noticed that just from his brief description of her, she sounded vain and superficial. “Right. Knitting and needle crafts aren’t for everybody. You mentioned that something came up with your daughter last week. I hope everything is okay.”

  He took a sip of wine and nodded. “Oh, yes. Fine. Lily will be going off to college next year, and she’s been accepted at a few, so we’re still doing the parent/student visits to check them out. We drove to the University of Tampa, and it was kind of a last-minute thing. Her mother had been scheduled to take Lily but . . . realized she wasn’t able to.”

  I thought it was odd that the mother had had a change of plans last minute, but I didn’t say anything. “Oh, I thought Lily graduated this past June from high school.”

  “Yes, she did,” Simon said before pausing for a moment. “She wanted to take a year off before beginning college . . . which I thought was a good idea. So she’s all set to begin next summer.”

  “That’s great. Such an adventure ahead of her. Does she live with her mother?” I asked.

  “Right now, Lily is splitting her time between my parents’ home in Gainesville and a few days a month at Stephanie’s on Amelia Island. She was spending a lot of time with me, but I’ve been so busy trying to set up the new office and I really don’t have a proper home at the moment, so staying with my parents is good. I can see Lily when I’m there.”

  It was obvious that he had a close relationship with his daughter. “Oh, that’s great. I know Orli loves going to the Boston area to spend time with Grant and his mother.”

  Simon nodded and picked up the menu. “I guess we should decide on what we’re having.”

  By the time the waiter approached our table I’d decided on a pasta dish, and Simon requested chicken.

  “Did everything work out for your trip to Boston?” he asked.

  “It did. Grant called and has e-mailed me all the info for the flights. Orli and I will fly up there on December twenty-second and fly home on the thirtieth.”

  “That’s great. I’m sure you’re looking forward to it.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I am. I love it up there, and I know that Orli and I will have a good time, so it’ll be fun.”

  He shifted in his chair, and I saw a grimace cross his face.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, fine. Just an old back injury that nags me sometimes. So, does your daughter also knit?”

  I got the feeling he wanted to change the subject. “Strangely enough, no,” I said, then laughed. “I think she figures I do enough knitting for both of us. But I wouldn’t be surprised if in a few years she’ll be itching to learn. So if your ex-wife doesn’t knit, how did Lily learn?”

  He paused a moment before saying, “In school. One of her teachers taught her, and my sister is a huge knitter, so she helped Lily in the beginning.”

  “Oh, that’s great. How nice to have a teacher to do that after school hours.”

  “Right,” was all he said. “I know Gloria normally frequents the yarn shop in Gainesville because it’s close, but I’ll have to mention the one here to her.”

  “Yes, I also love the Yarnworks in Gainesville. We knitters usually have one local shop we’re loyal to, but if she’s like the rest of us, I’m sure she’s probably already visited here. Somehow we can track down a yarn shop within a hundred mile radius.”

  He laughed. “You’re probably right. So, besides knitting, what else do you do for enjoyment? Do you fish?”

  “Not really. Having been brought up on the island I’ve done my fair share of fishing, but I can’t say I’ve really ever enjoyed it. How about you? Do you like to fish?”

  He nodded. “I do. I just don’t seem to find as much time to do it as I’d like.”

  “Well, maybe actually living here will help that situation. Plus, I’ll introduce you to Doyle Summers and my dad. They and a small group of guys go out on Doyle’s boat at least once a week.”

  “That sounds great. Thanks.”

  The waiter approached with our dishes.

  “Looks good,” I said.

  “Yes. Bon appétit.”

  I began eating my pasta and realized I was having a really nice time being in Simon’s company. He was so easy to converse with, and I recalled the dead silences that Ben and I had encountered during dinners out. It even felt different being with Simon. Ben could be a bit strong-willed about certain things, and many an evening had ended in a heated debate. I often wondered if he had a bit of that control streak that my mother possessed. Perhaps that’s why we clashed. My independent personality never went well with a control freak.

  As if reading my mind, Simon asked, “So, you’re not dating or involved with anybody right now?”

  I wiped my mouth with the napkin and shook my head. “No. I’m a free agent again. I had been in a long-distance relationship with somebody—his uncle lived on the island. Mr. Al recently passed away. But we both came to realize that whatever we had, if anything, was going nowhere.” I neglected to mention that in all truth, Ben had dumped me.

  “Yeah, I would think that could be pretty difficult. Trying to keep a relationship going with miles separating you.” He took a bite of chicken and was silent for a few moments. “So . . . your mother is a romance author. My sister is an avid reader, too, so I’ll have to ask if she’s read your mom’s books. Does she write under her real name?”

  “Yes. Shelby Sullivan. She and I have our moments . . . but I have to admit that she’s done very well over the years with her writing.”

  “Sounds like you’re proud of her.”

  I’d never given this too much thought. “I guess I am. Maybe I take her career for granted sometimes, but I know it’s become more difficult to even get published, so yeah, I am proud of her for turning out a best seller every year. She can just be a bit difficult at times to get along with.”

  Simon laughed. “Ah, that old mother-daughter thing, huh?”

  I let out a chuckle. “Yup, I’m afraid so. I’ve always envied mothers and daughters who get along like best friends. I’ve never had that with my mother. It’s been a constant battle filled with tension. My best friend Mallory . . . she and her mother get along so well. Once I got older, I realized that my mother is a control freak and that’s the root of our problem.”

  Simon nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that. My sisters have had their moments with my mother, but overall I’d have to say they all get along pretty well. And just from what you’ve told me about being a single mom, I can certainly understand how your mother’s personality might rub you the wrong way.”

  He understood? This was the first time I could recall a man saying that and agreeing with me. Even thought I felt that Grant probably did, he’d never come out and said it in so many words.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I have to admit that I also envy you your large family. Being an only child isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. That’s why I’ve always felt bad that my own daughter has ended up as an only child.”

  “I probably don’t tell them nearly enough, but yeah, I do feel fortunate having my siblings and now their families added to the group. But hey, never say never on that sibling for Orli. Gosh, what are you, barely thirty? Women are having children much later in life now.”

  Hearing his assumption about my age caused me to laugh. “Thank you for the compliment, but no, I’m not barely thirty. I’m thirty-five.”

  I heard Simon chuckle. “You’re a mere babe,” he said. “I just turned forty-seven.”

  “Really?” I heard myself say. Whew, he looked pretty damn good for a guy pushing fifty. “You sure don’t look it,” I said, and realized that was a
n awkward thing to say.

  But he laughed again. “And thank you for your compliment.”

  By the time coffee arrived I could hardly believe that two hours had passed. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was almost nine. I couldn’t recall the last time I had enjoyed an evening out as much as this one.

  Simon walked me to my car in the parking lot. “I’ll follow you home,” he said.

  “Oh, no, really. You don’t have to do that. Cedar Key is quite a safe town.”

  “I know that, but I want to. I’m leaving in the morning for Gainesville. Lily is at my parents’ house and I’ll be staying there for a few days. Then I have to head to St. Augustine for a couple weeks, but I’ll give you a call when I’m coming back to Cedar Key.”

  “Great,” I said, getting into my car and starting the ignition. “Thank you so much for a lovely dinner.”

  “It was my pleasure, Josie. Really,” he said, and headed to his car. When I pulled into my driveway, Simon gave a short toot of his horn and I saw him lift his hand in a wave as he headed down Second Street.

  15

  I walked into the coffee café at the bookshop and saw it was filled with the usual early morning patrons. After chatting with Suellen for a few minutes, I took my latte and found an empty table. Mr. Al’s memorial was later that day, and I found myself thinking about the differences between Ben and Simon.

  Although I didn’t know Simon well, I knew I enjoyed being with him. Not to say that Ben and I hadn’t shared some fun moments during our brief time together, but Ben could be a bit difficult when it came to having ordinary discussions. He was extremely opinionated, which was fine, but I always got the feeling he expected me to agree with him on all subjects, and that had caused a bit of tension between us. Whereas chatting with Simon just seemed so easy. Relaxed. Comfortable. I felt that we were going to form a pleasant friendship.

  I took a sip of coffee and questioned if friendship was all I really wanted. Of course it was. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to get into the dynamics of anything more. Friendships were so much easier than involved relationships. And being friends with a handsome doctor was an extra plus.