Cafenova Read online

  Cafenova

  S. Jane Scheyder

  Andres & Blanton

  Niantic, Connecticut

  Cafenova

  Published by Andres & Blanton

  Niantic, Connecticut

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2010 by S. Jane Scheyder

  Second Edition 2012

  Cover artwork by Jacob Scheyder

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for use in reviews. For information, contact: Andres & Blanton, P.O. Box 34, Niantic, CT 06357.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-0-9830318-0-2

  Printed in the United States of America

  www.andresblanton.com

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

  In Memory of Ted

  Acknowledgements

  My sincerest thanks to the following people, without whom this book would never have left my computer:

  * Jacob, who not only believed and insisted that I could write this story, but also painstakingly edited and updated the entire manuscript. This is an immeasurably better work because of you.

  * Paul, who never wavered in his belief that this was a worthy project, and who gave me much insight into the details of re-modeling and renovation; and Michael, Daniel, Mary and Hannah, who let me disappear to the imaginary land of Clairmont more frequently than any mother should ever leave her children. Additional thanks to Mary for preparing the book for ebook publication.

  * Jan, my first editor and critic, who saw this project through to publication; and Karen, my copy editor, who was willing to take a chance and invest her time and talent in a new writer.

  * Jessica, who makes me feel like I can do anything, and helped me to understand Maddy a little better; and Carol, who was one of the first people to picture Clairmont, and kept me inspired with beautiful photographs of the Connecticut coast.

  * Charlie, who told me about the workings of crews and re-modeling; and Dan and Diane, who shared their renovating skills and knowledge.

  * Linda, Cathy, Sandy, Halli and Puja – my first reviewers. Thank you for your insight.

  * Loring and Ruth, who championed my first book and gave me a place in their home to write some of this one, as well as ex-posed me to the wonders of the Maine coast; and Dave and Lynn, whose beautiful Victorian home in Maine has been a place of respite and inspiration!

  * The Whaley family, who introduced me to their dog, Sherman, who is Burt’s inspiration.

  * The staff at the Inn at Harbor Hill Marina in Niantic, Connec-ticut, the beautiful B&B where I stayed, wrote and explored; and Ellen M. Plante’s book, The Victorian Home, (Courage Books © 1998), which gave me insight into Victorian decorating.

  * Finally, my mom, Judy, and Becky, Diane, Linda, and Jisue, who prayed me through this entire endeavor.

  Contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  twenty-four

  twenty-five

  epilogue

  prologue

  Maddy stepped out of her office and walked to the conference room. Phil had called a meeting, and she wondered what necessitated the entire staff’s presence. Glancing down at her legal pad, she smiled at the list of wedding details she’d discussed with her mother the night before. She tore it off and folded it, inserting it somewhere in the back of the pad. Taking her usual spot near the head of the table, she wrote a new heading on the top sheet and waited, nodding at the others as they filed in.

  Phil arrived last. “I’m going to cut right to the chase,” he said.

  The room became very quiet as all eyes turned to him. “I’ve sold out my shares to Buckingham. I think this is the right time, and you should all consider doing the same.”

  The silence was profound. Some eyes turned to Maddy, but hers were on Phil.

  “I’ve decided to start another company down in San Diego.” He avoided looking at Maddy as he continued his well-rehearsed speech.

  She didn’t hear the details. Phil was leaving; the company, and apparently her. Now all eyes, except Phil’s, were on her. She could feel the layers of sympathetic gazes. It made her nauseous.

  “You going alone?” someone finally asked.

  “Kathy’s coming with me.”

  The eyes turned to the account manager. Maddy’s heart dropped, and for all practical purposes stopped beating. Nothing was said for a moment, and then she pushed her chair back and stood. She took off Phil’s ring and placed it quietly on the table. She picked up her pad, and her list fell to the floor as she left the room.

  one

  There was no getting around it; the house was a dump. Maddy Jacobs was no longer in the business of deceiving herself, and she faced the unsettling truth head-on. Seven days into her new life and the picture was bleak. From the grossly over-painted woodwork to the alarmingly thick layers of carpet, from the battered shelving to the mysterious holes in the walls, Maddy knew she had invested in an unqualified dump.

  Potential, the real estate agent had repeatedly assured her. Indeed. The house was huge, it was old, and it definitely had character. Maddy exited the outdated travesty that was her kitchen and walked onto the shabby, if sprawling, porch. The screen door banged! in her wake, and for some reason, the sound made her smile. She pulled the salty air into her lungs and beheld the majestic Atlantic beyond her rocky beach of a front yard.

  Yes, her new home had potential. The fact that it needed so much work was the only thing that made it affordable for a 29-year-old former software consultant. Maddy would return it to its former glory as a seaside inn. She would need a great deal of help, of course, but she would do it. She crossed her arms with determination as her eyes swept the glorious expanse of water.

  A heavy, muffled, slapping sound brought her out of her reverie. She looked down at her housemate, Burt, sprawled under the white plastic table. Her Irish wolfhound continued to thump his tail in greeting, but was too tired to do more. He’d spent the morning exploring the rocky beach and was replenishing his energy for the next run.

  “Poor baby,” she grinned, leaning down to scratch his ears.

  “Hello, Miss Maddy!”

  Maddy stood and waved at her elderly neighbor approaching across the sand.

  “Otis, how are you?” she called out, glad to hear a voice other than her own. She really needed to get out and meet some people.

  Otis Jensen ambled up the steps and gave Burt a friendly pat. “I’m doing just fine, Maddy, my dear. And how are you?”

  “Fine, as long as I stay on the porch,” she replied. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I just came over to see if you needed anything downtown.”

  Maddy could easily visualize her shopping list. “Thanks for the offer, but I need to get out of the house. I was planning to take Burt out, anyway.”

  Otis nodded. “Don’t forget to stop at the farmer’s market in the square,” he reminded her. “Every Saturday. They have the best zucchini.”

  “Thanks, O
tis.” Maddy smiled as he waved over his shoulder and walked back down the steps to the beach.

  Turning to her ever-present pad on the table, she flipped past the “To Do” list, which had grown by a page and a half just that morning. With a sigh, she updated her “To Buy” list and nudged Burt with her foot.

  “Let’s take a walk.”

  He stood up and cocked his head expectantly.

  “Over your morning fatigue, are you?”

  They walked through the house, and Maddy caught her reflection in the front-hall mirror. She hesitated, considering the woman looking back at her. She adopted a more natural style when she moved to Maine, and it suited her. Her wavy, sometimes curly, light brown hair had a few blonde streaks, and when it behaved, it could be rather pretty. More often than not, she kept it pulled back. Her blue eyes were probably her most striking feature, though she had to give credit to the years spent in braces, which left her teeth nice and straight. Her winter skin could definitely use some beach time, she observed as she finished her quick appraisal by adding a touch of lipstick.

  All in all, she was satisfied as she closed the door behind her and started down the walkway. She’d make a decent impression if she ran into any good-looking men in the produce department.

  

  Maddy never made it to the produce department. Before she even reached the grocery store, she literally ran into a jean-clad Greek god at the post office. It was hardly what she had expected when she made that quick detour, but there he was. She had been looking back at Burt, contemplating what she would do with him while she ran inside, when she turned and came face to chest with a dusty T-shirt. It was a muscley, dusty T-shirt; not an altogether unpleasant collision.

  “Oh – sorry!” Maddy backed up and had another collision, this time with Burt’s snout, and she almost tumbled over backwards. “Burt!” she scolded, at which point he sat down in the threshold of the post office with a snort.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said again to the interesting stranger, who had taken a step back and waited patiently for them to clear the doorway. “We’re new in town,” she rattled on a little nervously, “and he still doesn’t understand that he can’t just follow me everywhere.” Maddy rolled her eyes in exasperation, and to keep herself from gawking.

  He was tall, she figured that out already, and once she caught a glimpse of his face, she had to make an effort not to stare. She searched her brain for a cliché other than “rugged good looks” but nothing else came to mind. Disgusted with her incompetent fantasy vocabulary, she decided to stick to the facts: Hazel-colored eyes – great eyes; sandy brownish hair that curled in charming disarray around his ears; square, unshaven jaw…

  Maddy quickly turned her attention to moving her dog out of the doorway.

  “Daddy?”

  A small head peered around the dusty jeans – curly hair, green eyes, not quite waist-high. Maddy couldn’t readily determine his age, but the relationship was clear. All of her fantasies about meeting a handsome, single New England lumberjack – in the post office – were brought to an abrupt end. It was a sweet, albeit brief, dream.

  “It’s okay,” the lumberjack said, stroking the blond curls gently. It was a good voice; deep and smooth.

  “Can I pet it?”

  Another little body suddenly appeared, and his father caught his shoulder as the boy lurched forward. This body was even smaller than the first. He had brown hair and big, brown, mischievous eyes.

  “Maybe another time.”

  Yeah, another time when we run into a strange woman with a wolfhound buying stamps, Maddy smiled to herself.

  “Honestly, he’s very gentle,” she said. “Just scratch under his chin; he loves that.” She managed to move Burt back from the doorway, and stood to his side so the little boy could come forward if he wanted to – if his dad would let him.

  The boy looked up at his father, and when his dad’s hand released him, he ran right up to Burt.

  “I’m Parker,” he said, glancing briefly at Maddy. “And I like your dog!”

  “I’m Maddy,” she answered with a smile. “And I like anyone who likes my dog.” She knelt down and took Parker’s hand and gently guided it to Burt’s furry throat. “This is Burt.”

  Parker looked up at the dog and then straight into Maddy’s eyes. “He looks like a monster.”

  “Oh, he’s not a monster – just a big dog,” Maddy laughed. “And I think he likes you.”

  Parker grinned as he continued to pet the animal looking down at him. “See Dad, I’m not afraid!”

  His father watched the exchange with interest, but not with particular ease. “You are very brave, Parker. I’m not even sure I want to pet Burt.” He grinned apologetically at Maddy.

  She shook her head with a smile and turned to the other child. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Blake.” He walked cautiously toward her and extended his hand.

  Impressed, she took it. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Blake. Would you like to pet Burt?”

  Blake considered the invitation carefully. He slowly put his hand out and let Burt get a good whiff.

  “You’re definitely missing out.” Maddy turned to the father, who continued to watch his kids with wary amusement. At least he had closed the gap and was standing somewhat closer to their little group.

  “I guess we know who the coward in the family is,” he said, making way for a petite, elderly woman leaving the post office.

  The woman absently patted the dog on the head as she walked by. “Nice doggie,” she cooed, continuing down the sidewalk.

  “Okay, I’m going to have to get this big brute out of here so people can get through the door,” Maddy said. “Maybe I’ll see you another time.”

  The boys reluctantly peeled themselves away from Burt and returned to their father.

  “Did you need something in there?” he asked, not sounding particularly willing to watch her dog if she did.

  “Just stamps,” Maddy shrugged. “I’m sure I can get them at the grocery store.”

  “Yeah, I think you can.” He glanced at the dog, wondering if she’d really solved her problem.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine,” Maddy assured him. “The other day I just hooked his leash on one of the posts out front while I ran inside. He tends to keep other shoppers away so I can have the place to myself,” she quipped.

  “I’ll bet,” he answered, a little too readily. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you, and I enjoyed meeting your sons. Parker, Blake – you guys take care.” Maddy started pulling on Burt’s leash to get his momentum going.

  For the second time, the tall, dusty form blocked her path; this time intentionally. Maddy stopped and looked up, feeling something wonderfully uncomfortable ripple through her insides when their eyes met.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, suddenly formal. “I’m John.” He extended his hand and added, “and I like your dog.” A small grin turned the corners of his mouth.

  Maddy smiled and then laughed, glad for the distraction as she put her hand in his. It was a good strong hand. Maybe he really is a lumberjack. “I’m Maddy.”

  He regarded her a moment more. “Good to meet you, Maddy.” With that he dropped her hand and grabbed those of his sons.

  “Time for the hardware store,” he said to them. “Say good-bye, boys.”

  “Bye, Miss Maddy,” they chimed, and they were off down the street, in search of tools.

  Maddy watched them as they bounced off, talking and laughing. They seemed so happy to be out with their dad. It was a sweet picture, she thought as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. I’ll bet their mom would love it.

  “Let’s go, Burt,” she said, trying to remember what she needed at the grocery store. Who needed groceries when there were hammers, nails and paint to be purchased?

  

  John pulled the sandpaper from the hardware store bag and put a fresh piece on the small hand sander. He turned back to
the old Adirondack chair, and crouched low to finish the backside of one of the panels.

  “I see you, Daddy!”

  John squinted through the slats and grinned at Parker, squatting and staring back at him from just inside the patio door.

  Delighted with his discovery, Parker said, “Okay, now I’ll hide. You count.” Before John could object, his son jumped up and ran around the side of the house.

  Blake, arranging a rock collection on the edge of the patio, watched his brother with a smile. “Guess you’re playing, Dad.”

  “Guess I am,” John agreed. “How about you?” Blake hesitated only briefly before taking off after his brother.

  “… Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty… Ready or not, here I come!” John took in the backyard with a sweeping glance. There was no sign of movement around the swing-set/fort that he built for the kids two summers ago. He made his way toward the side of the house where he prepared to jump on the nearest victim. No one was giggling among the neatly trimmed bushes, but he could hear someone rustling up near the garage.

  “I can hear you hiding…” he called ominously as he walked slowly and heavily toward the front of the house. He heard a gasp and a giggle as at least one small hider realized that discovery was imminent. John jumped around the corner and crouched down, sending Parker squealing from his spot behind the garbage can. John grabbed him and swung him up onto his shoulder.

  “Blake, help!” Parker yelled.

  “Yes, help, Blake!” John roared, marching around the yard with Parker flailing on his shoulder.

  “Let me go!” Parker giggled.

  John set Parker down and growled, “Stay here while I go find your brother.” Parker lay laughing in the grass, and then quickly jumped up to hide again. John approached the front porch and almost tripped on Blake, who had hidden near the bushes.