Sugar Plum Serenade (Seawolf Beach #2)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Tuck blew right past the ghost part. “I don’t have a grandmother. Never did.” Growing up it had just been him and his parents, who’d both been pretty old when he’d been born. His dad’s younger brother, Houston, the uncle who’d left him The Magnolia, hadn’t come around much. There were no cousins. No grandparents. No family reunions.

Colt took a step closer. “You didn’t know her, but of course you had a grandmother. Two, like everyone else, but I’m only dealing with the one.” Again he looked to his right before returning his attention to Tuck. “You’re the spitting image of your grandfather.”

Tuck turned on his heel and walked away. If this was a joke, it was a cruel one. Years ago he’d accepted that when holidays rolled around he wouldn’t have a family to share in the celebration. Now and then he’d spend Thanksgiving or Christmas with a friend and their family, but even though they were welcoming he always felt like an outsider looking in.

“When she saw you the other day she was struck by the resemblance, and then when you said your mother’s name was Doreen… ”

Tuck was about to walk into the public section of the depot, but he stopped short and spun around to face Colt. He might as well go back to the beginning himself. “Ghosts? Seriously? That’s why you’re always talking to yourself. It’s…” Impossible. Ridiculous.

“I don’t talk to myself, I talk to them.” Colt looked and sounded stressed, as if he didn’t like this any more than Tuck did. “I try not to, I promise you, but they won’t leave me alone. Your grandmother Maude is one of the chattier ones. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since she saw you yesterday.”

“Ghosts,” Tuck said again. It shouldn’t make sense, but in a twisted way it did. “Why should I believe you?”

“Why not?” Colt snapped.

So many reasons… “Let’s say ghosts exist and you can see them. Why is this woman here? Why would Maude haunt you, of all people?”

“The why me is a long story. The why here is a bit simpler. Maude lived in the retirement home up the road. When she passed a couple of years ago, she gravitated here. Sad to say, she’s not alone.”

“I don’t believe…”

Colt ignored him and continued. “She was engaged to your grandfather, Phillip Shelton. Maude’s maiden name was…” Again that look to the right. “Reeves. A week before the wedding Phillip died. He was thrown from a horse and broke his neck. It was a couple of months before Maude realized she was pregnant with your mother. This was the fifties. Having the baby and raising her, a single mother, it just wasn’t done. So Maude took a long vacation, had the baby, and then reluctantly agreed to put the child up for adoption. But not before she named her daughter Doreen.”

“Nice tale,” Tuck began, “but…”

“I suspect it’s all verifiable.” Again Colt looked to his right, but his eyes moved as if following Maude’s ghost to Tuck’s side. “No.”

A warm breeze brushed Tuck’s cheek, like a gentle wind on the beach. There was no breeze in the depot, and in December it wouldn’t be warm even if there was.

“This is what’s been holding her here,” Colt said. “This secret, wondering what happened to Doreen, if she had a good life, if she had a family.”

Tuck rushed past Colt, headed toward the back door. He didn’t want to see anyone, and there were too damn many people in the record store. He was parked out back anyway, so it made sense to leave that way even if he wasn’t in a panic. Nate Tucker didn’t panic. Nothing touched him that deeply.

“She wants you to have…” Colt called out as Tuck pushed the rear door open on a couple of cars, Colt’s battered truck, a dumpster, and Tuck’s Ford.

He didn’t care what a ghost wanted him to have.

Until this moment his holiday wish had been simple. A dance with a pretty girl who said she didn’t dance. Now what he really wanted for Christmas was not to know what he’d just been told. A grandmother, right around the corner all these years. A blood relative within reach for years and he’d had no idea.

He wanted to forget, but most of all he just wanted to be alone. Alone, as he’d always been and would always be.

It was another busy day in Dawn’s Radiance. Olive wasn’t as easily annoyed by difficult customers today. She was sure her improved mood had nothing to do with Tuck, but she did keep looking at the door, wondering when he’d come in to pick up his scarves .

She liked him, more than a little. She’d never admit that out loud, but he was hot and had a great smile and bought extravagant gifts for old ladies who might not otherwise get anything at all for Christmas. Why on earth had no one snatched him up by now? Really great guys weren’t single for long. In her experience great, single guys were all too rare.

Closing time came and went, and still no Tuck. He must’ve gotten busy, either with his business or something to do with the volunteer fire department. He did have a life, she was sure. There might’ve been a fire, or some other emergency that called out the firefighters.

Olive gathered her purse and light jacket, then put all of Tuck’s small bags with the carefully folded scarves into one big bag for the walk home. Not home, not really, but like it or not the blue house was beginning to feel a little like an actual home. At least for now.

She’d deliver the scarves to Tuck, if he was home, eat her leftover shrimp and grits for supper, then head to Dawn’s to check on the very pregnant woman and her family. It was a plan. She’d sleep well tonight, for sure. Running a business was exhausting! If she’d decided to stay with Dawn and her family it would be even more so. A handsome neighbor who liked to flirt was a nice distraction.

He really wasn’t her type at all. Did she have a type? If she did, Tuck wasn’t it. He was an easygoing, bar-owning volunteer fireman who had no noticeable regular schedule. Sometimes he was at The Magnolia, other times he was not. He came and went as he pleased, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She, on the other hand, scheduled her day from that first cup of coffee to the moment she crawled into bed.

His two-story white house waited just ahead, impossible to miss. Her little blue cottage sat beyond, almost hidden from this vantage point. She could walk past, go home, kick off her shoes, maybe drop the bag of scarves on his porch later, like a coward.

No, she would not be cowardly. Olive turned on the walkway between the sidewalk and Tuck’s house, then took quick steps up the three stairs to his front porch. His truck was in the driveway, so she assumed he was home. Unless he’d walked somewhere, which was always possible. She did love that Seawolf Beach was such a walkable town. At home, her real home, she couldn’t go anywhere without battling traffic.

She knocked. When there was no response, she punched the doorbell. It was a big house, much bigger than her own. He could be upstairs, in the rear of the house, maybe even in the backyard. The doorbell tone echoed through the house. She’d decided Tuck wasn’t at home and was thinking of leaving a note when the door swung open.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Tuck didn’t look, well, like Tuck. No easy smile, no twinkle in those blue eyes. He was pale and haggard. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

The way you look. The sound of your voice. The clear tension in that combative stance . “Call it a hunch.”

“I’ve had a bad day, that’s all. Are those the scarves? Sorry, I forgot all about them.” He reached out and took the bag she offered. “I’ll drop them at the fire station tomorrow.”

She should turn away, leave him to his misery, and continue with her plans for the day. Leftover shrimp and grits. A visit with Dawn. But something stopped her. “Let me make you dinner,” she said before she could stop herself.

His eyebrows arched a little. “Really?”

“Nothing fancy.” The leftovers could wait. “I make a mean omelet.” That was all she had the makings for, at the moment.

He started to say no; she saw that no on his face. But after a short pause he said, “It would do me good to get out of the house. Thanks.”

“Give me twenty minutes,” Olive said, intent on a quick shower before she started cooking. “I have retail smell all over me.”

Finally, he smiled. That grin wasn’t as bright as usual, but it was a definite improvement.

Olive didn’t run to her own house, but she did hurry. She could call Dawn later and check on her instead of visiting tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough for a face-to-face chat. As she let herself into the blue house, the Christmas tree caught her eye. This morning before she’d headed out, she’d unplugged the lights. It wasn’t safe to leave anything plugged in, that’s what she told herself.

She dropped her purse in a chair and walked straight to the tree, leaned over, grabbed the cord, and plugged it into the outlet. She didn’t need or want a Christmas tree but since it was here, she might as well enjoy the lights. They were festive, which would’ve normally been a negative in her book.

Why had she invited Tuck over? Simple. They were neighbors, friends , and when he’d opened the door he’d looked like a man who needed a friend tonight.

As she walked toward the bedroom to grab clean clothes, she muttered to herself. “Liar. You like him.”