Once again Rachel found herself staring.
Was this flower-child senior with the mod hair, funky sandals and colorful knee-length caftanlike garment the same quiet, conservatively dressed woman who’d shared Christmas dinner with her and Aunt El?
The woman gathered her into a one-handed hug as Rachel tried to process the transformation.
“Let me look at you.” Louise backed off to scrutinize her. “Pretty as a picture, just like I remember. How do you like the new me?” She did a pirouette, her eyes twinkling.
“Um...it’s different.” Rachel studied the older woman. “But I like it.”
Louise laughed. “The very thing Fletch said. The different part, anyway. I’m not sure he’s sold on the updates, but life’s full of surprises, isn’t it? By the way, let me introduce you two.”
“We’ve met.” The swimmer’s face was unreadable.
“Is that right?” Louise swiveled her head from one to the other.
Since the man in question didn’t seem inclined to offer any more information, Rachel spoke up. “We ran into each other at the beach on Wednesday.”
“Literally.” He folded his arms. “Her dog knocked me down.”
“Aunt El’s dog,” Rachel corrected.
Louise’s eyes widened. “Rachel was the woman with the dog you mentioned?”
“Small world, I guess.” Fletch leaned a shoulder against the door.
“True enough. Especially on Jekyll Island.” Louise beamed at him. “Now isn’t this nice? Two young people at loose ends for the summer.”
Her grandson straightened up at once, annoyance tightening his features. “I’m not at loose ends, Gram. When I’m not helping you, I’ll be working.”
“Not 24/7.”
Warmth stole onto Rachel’s cheeks. It was obvious to her, if not to Louise, that this Fletch guy had zero interest in her. And that was fine. If she ever decided to go out on a date again, it would be with someone who wanted to spend time with her, not someone shoved her direction by an overeager if well-meaning relation.
And he’d been shoved, no question about it. Why else would he have shown up on Aunt El’s beach, halfway around the island, when there were perfectly fine beaches much closer?
If his sudden scowl was any indication, he’d come to the same conclusion.
As the silence lengthened, Rachel edged away from the door—and the man. “I think we’d better leave or we’ll miss the opening hymn.”
Louise consulted her watch. “Goodness, you’re right. Fletch, are you certain I can’t convince you to come?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation there. An aversion to church—or to her?
Rachel straightened her shoulders and crooked her elbow. “Why don’t you take my arm, Louise, just to be safe?”
“Don’t mind if I do. It doesn’t hurt to be extra careful until I ditch this thing.” Louise lifted the cast. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, Fletch.”
“No rush. I’ve got some work to do.”
Louise shot him a pointed look. “In my day, people didn’t work on Sundays.”
“Times change.” Fletch edged the door closed as Louise exited, as if he couldn’t be rid of them fast enough.
“And not always for the better.” The door clicked shut before his grandmother finished her reply. She frowned at the closed door. “Now where are that boy’s manners? He didn’t even say goodbye to you.”
Rachel guided her down the walk. “Maybe he has a lot on his mind.” Or he’s just plain rude.
The latter seemed more than plausible.
“That doesn’t excuse bad manners. I’ll have to have a talk with him after I get back.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. That would go over real well. Louise’s grandson struck her as a take-charge kind of guy who wouldn’t appreciate criticism. A scolding from his grandmother wasn’t likely to endear Eleanor’s niece to him.
But who cared? There was no reason for their paths to cross again. Now that they were both on to his grandmother’s—and perhaps Aunt El’s—transparent beach strategy, he’d no doubt get his rays elsewhere. It didn’t sound as if she’d run into him at church, either. Nor did he seem like the gallery-visiting type, so the odds he’d stop in to Aunt El’s shop were nil. They could each go their separate ways and spend their summers exactly as they’d intended.
Everything was good.
Rachel helped Louise into the front passenger seat, glancing back at the older woman’s cottage as she reached for the back door. For one tiny instant, she thought she detected a shadow at the window, as if someone had been watching them. Not much chance of that, though, given the man’s reaction to her today—and on the beach.
But if everything was good, how was she supposed to explain the little wave of disappointment that suddenly dimmed her spirits?
* * *
Fletch finished setting the table and strolled over to the stove, giving the simmering pot an appreciative sniff as he stopped beside Gram. “That smells fantastic.”
“Shrimp and scallop risotto. It’s one of my staples these days—but I must say, it’s wonderful to have someone to share it with.” Gram added more liquid to the mixture and continued to stir. “You missed a fine sermon today, by the way. Reverend Carlson talked about...” The jingle of the phone cut her off.
“Want me to get that?”
She shot a dark look toward the portable in its cradle. “If you wouldn’t mind. Risotto needs constant attention.”
He moved down to the other end of the counter, grateful for the reprieve from a recap of the minister’s remarks, and picked up the remote. After exchanging hellos with Eleanor, he carried the phone back to his grandmother and held it out. “She says it’s important.”
Gram shoved the heavy spoon into his hand. “Keep stirring or the rice will sink and stick to the bottom and we’ll end up with a burned mess instead of dinner.”
Without waiting for a reply, she took the phone and greeted her friend.
Leaning one shoulder against the adjacent wall, Fletch kept the spoon moving as Gram talked.
“No, I have a minute. I put Fletch in charge of the risotto.” In the silence that followed, her brow wrinkled. “Oh, my. That is a problem. We were counting on them.”
More silence as she paced over to the rear window by the sink. Although she looked out, Fletch had a feeling she wasn’t seeing the stately live oak dripping with Spanish moss that dominated her backyard.
“Yes, I do understand. These things happen.” Gram sighed. “I guess we’ll have to cancel the second half of the summer, too. Everyone will be so disappointed.”
Fletch continued to stir as Gram went back into listening mode. As he watched, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and her expression shifted from troubled to pensive. “Yes, I see what you’re saying. Everything does happen for a reason.” More silence. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow morning and put the committee meeting on my calendar for tomorrow night at seven. Talk to you soon.”
After replacing the handset in the cradle, she rejoined him at the stove.
“Problems?” He handed the spoon back to her.
“Yes. Such a shame.” Gram leaned close to the pot to gauge his