Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

Considering Lizzie’s current situation, the idea of a family was so far removed that it seemed a lifetime away. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much. I’ve been too busy. And there’s the tiny issue of a husband. Not a lot of Daves floating around for the taking, you know. I know in this day and age it’s not necessary … but I’m still a little old-fashioned when it comes to marriage.”

“You’re far more conventional than you let on, Liz.”

“Don’t let that get out and ruin my reputation,” Lizzie replied. “Like I said. Long way off.” But she’d been truthful about her view of marriage and family. Her upbringing hadn’t been perfect. Her father had been a bit of a workaholic, which put a strain on the marriage from time to time. But her parents had loved each other and persevered, even through tough times, and they’d always made an effort to make home a fun and welcoming place. Lizzie would rather be alone than settle for anything less.

“Well, take notes just the same. You’ve already missed the morning sickness bit. Least you can do is hang around for the varicose veins and hemorrhoids.”

Lizzie laughed. “Gee, what fun. And here I thought small-town medicine was boring.”

They made their way along to the northeast end of Main. Only a few parking spots remained along the curb, and the small lot by the wharf was half-full. In another few weeks Lizzie figured the tourism traffic would hit full force for the Memorial Day weekend, turning the relaxed little town into a hub of activity.

As they halted at the stop sign next to the wharf, Lizzie saw a pleasure boat slowly make its way around the slip. The words on the side were still clear: Jewell’s Constant. Farther out in the bay, the pristine white sails of a pair of clipper ships glided above the water. What would it be like to escape for a day’s sail on the ocean? When had Lizzie last taken time to do something so frivolous?

She turned her attention back to Charlie. “You’re really happy here, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “I am. Look, Liz. I know this isn’t your speed and I know it’s not where you want to be in life, and that’s okay.”

Lizzie pulled into a spot and killed the engine. “Small-town life isn’t for everyone same as city living isn’t, either.”

Charlie frowned. “All I know is that I’m worried about you. I was worried after Russ died and I’m even more worried now. And yes, I can’t think of anyone I’d want taking my place more than you. There’s no on call, no night shifts. It’s regular hours, which, after your insane schedule, is nearly like a vacation. The people are wonderful. There are beaches and parks. You could do worse.” She looked Lizzie right in the eye. “I want the old Lizzie back. The one who smiles easier and isn’t so afraid.”

They got out of the car and Lizzie could smell the rich fragrance of coffee mingled with bacon coming from the café. The town was built on a hill, so each street climbed up a step and was dotted with postcard-perfect buildings painted an array of colors. The café was cobalt blue with white trim. An inn across the street was brick red, and Lizzie’s gaze caught on a large building the next street up painted lavender, of all things. How could she be anything but cheerful when faced wi

th such a rainbow of architecture? But cheerful was not the same as happy. Charlie’s idea was an intriguing one, but Lizzie wasn’t sold yet. Charlie was right. It wasn’t her speed. And yet … it wasn’t like it was a permanent position or anything. It would be … vacation. It had been a long time since she’d taken one. She bit down on her lip. Had she actually forgotten how to let her hair down and have fun? Be spontaneous and daring? In the past she’d jumped at the opportunity to travel, to try something new. But in the last six months …

Charlie let the topic rest as they spent the morning browsing shops. First they visited the Three Fishermen gallery featuring pieces by New England artists, including a stunning selection of painting on glass. There was a clothing boutique with hand-painted silk scarves and intricately beaded handbags that Lizzie drooled over. They laughed over lobster-shaped salt-and-pepper shakers in a touristy souvenir shop, and when Charlie wistfully touched a hand-pieced quilt she’d been eyeing for the baby’s room Lizzie bought it on the spot.

“Are you crazy?” Charlie turned over the price tag to show Lizzie.

“No, I am not.” She carefully took the quilt off the display rack, smiling at the yellow and white bunnies peeking over the squares. “It’s gorgeous and you’re in lust with it. It’s the least I can do.”

“But today is your birthday.”

Right. She’d pretty much forgotten that little detail. “Then buy me a cupcake.”

At the bookstore Charlie bought Lizzie an illustrated guide to the Maine Midcoast, another tool, she said, in her ongoing blackmail ploy. But the real clincher was lunch at Breezes Café. Grilled panini sandwiches and sweet potato fries would have done it all on their own, but the warm blueberry buckle with vanilla bean ice cream toppled Lizzie over the edge.

As they left town, Charlie casually directed her past the doctor’s office two streets up, a large saltbox-style house with precisely two parking spots. It looked very proper with its deep-green rhododendrons flanking the door and a sign hanging on the front lawn. Lizzie figured the detour had been a strategic move on Charlie’s part.

“Dr. Collins used to be an army doctor,” Charlie said as they pulled up to the curb. “He retired from the military, and after his wife died, he came back to Jewell Cove to set up practice. He took over for Phil Nye, who was the town doc for decades.”

“What’s he like?”

“Phil or Joshua?”

Lizzie chuckled. “Joshua.”

“Kind. Smart and efficient. People trust him because he’s local. Jewell Cove might be small, but he keeps up with the latest. He’s been fine to work for. No drama, which from what you’ve said would be a plus. He’s very … uh, professional.”

Charlie made it sound like that was a negative, but Lizzie figured professionalism and efficiency were fine traits in a doctor. After her disastrous affair with Ian, an ex-army widower sounded positively perfect. No chance of romantic conflicts in the workplace. “I haven’t even come close to saying yes,” Lizzie replied, putting on her signal light to pull away.

And yet the town had charmed her with its colorful buildings and unique shops. She looked in her rearview mirror at the house. It had a certain appeal. There was a level of friendliness in the town she wasn’t quite comfortable with, but she suspected that would change when the tourists started rolling in and the strangers outnumbered the townies.

What else was waiting for her that was any better? If she was perfectly honest with herself, it was wishful thinking that she would be able to convince Ian to let her go back to work. Especially while the threat of a lawsuit still hung over her head.

“I don’t know where I’d live,” Lizzie said, as if she and Charlie had already been having that conversation. “And don’t say with you and Dave. No way. I refuse to impose on you two that way. And then there’s my mom.…”

“Not that it would be an imposition, but I already thought of that,” Charlie replied smugly. “And as far as your mom goes, it’s not that long of a drive. With your lighter schedule, it won’t be difficult to visit often. No more difficult than finding time when you’re working over sixty hours a week.”