She pulled the box to her and opened the lid, and found the box empty. Frowning, she questioned her memory. Hadn’t there been pizza left over yesterday?
Maybe not. Then again, maybe Grace had heated it up for lunch earlier and forgotten to mention it. That was probably the case.
She folded the box in half and went out the back door to stuff it into the trash can. She glanced toward the harbor and saw a tall boy standing, looking out at the water. It took her a moment to realize it was Dylan, his ever-present backpack slung over one shoulder. He was leaning on one of the pilings shoring up the dock behind the doctor’s office two doors down from the bookshop, his gaze fixed on a sailboat heading into the marina at the academy. Other than the two girls she’d seen him talking to the first day she’d noticed him in the shop, and the boy who’d stopped to chat briefly with him one afternoon, he always seemed to be alone, and that struck her as odd. Didn’t most kids like to do things with their friends on Saturday night? What teenager preferred solitude to the company of his friends?
She went inside, closed the door behind her, and locked it. For some reason, the sight of the boy standing so still and staring so intently at the harbor bothered her. She wondered if he was having problems at home, or maybe with his relationships, problems that might seem insurmountable to him. If that were the case, she hoped he had someone to talk to. A chill ran up her spine as she contemplated what such a teenager might do. She promised herself she’d be more open to him, maybe even befriend him, just to keep an eye on him and watch for signs he might be thinking about doing something rash.
Not that Jessie had given any signs, she reminded herself. Still, maybe he needed a friend. She wouldn’t pry, but she would try to be friendlier, to make sure he understood he was welcome there anytime.
She wandered through the shop, straightening shelves. Earlier Marion had come in to take Evelyn’s place for the rest of the day. Liddy had thought she’d let Marion leave early, since the shop was slow, but now she thought better of it. She needed someone to talk to, to take her mind off the fact that right now, Tuck was arriving at Johanna’s. Had she made Lamb Is for Lovers accompanied by some Daring Duchess Potatoes and some Kiss Me, Kale? Maybe some Lick My Ladyfingers for dessert?
“Ugh. I couldn’t pull that off with a straight face,” she muttered.
“Couldn’t pull what off, Liddy?” Marion asked.
“Oh. Nothing. Just babbling to myself.” But how, she wondered, did one serve such a thing? Did you announce in a sultry voice, Tonight we’re having Lamb Is for Lovers? Or did you say, I hope you like lamb? She had to admit the latter lacked the drama and the pizzazz of the former, but gah! She could never get those words to come out of her mouth without laughing.
She was pretty sure Johanna could.
A couple came in and distracted her from the erotic images of Tuck and Johanna currently running amok in her head. By the time she finished showing them every new thriller and all the greeting cards, it was well after seven.
“Liddy, go home,” Marion told her. “I can close up for the night, and Evelyn’s on tomorrow. Seriously. Go home and get some rest.”
Liddy was considering leaving when Gretchen arrived.
“What do you hear from Jim?” were the first words out of her mouth. No Hi, Liddy, no pleasantries. Gretchen was clearly a woman on a mission.
“He’s taking care of it.”
“Well, let me tell you something you don’t know.” She took Liddy’s arm and guided her toward the window. “Liddy, you are sitting on a gold mine over there. That property is almost three acres. Do you have any idea what three acres of prime land is worth in Wyndham Beach? You could knock down that little old house and sell the whole thing to a developer. Or you could parcel it off in individual lots for custom homes. And oh, the views of the woods and the pond with that stream feeding it?” Gretchen apparently had visions of many high-ticket sales coming her way. “A gold mine, I’m telling you.”
“I’m not interested, Gretchen. Besides, Jim has said he wants the entire parcel to remain intact, no subdivision ever. He’s actually having a codicil attached to the deed to that respect, but thanks for stopping over to let me know.”
Gretchen gripped her arm. “Liddy, you need to stop him from doing that. You could make a fortune.”
“I don’t know how else to say I’m not interested, other than to say, I’m not interested, and Jim doesn’t want his family property broken up. End of story.”
“Then I hope you’re going to sell that little cabin for a bundle.”
“Gretchen, we’ve been friends for years, so please don’t take this personally, but it’s really none of your business.”
“Okay, I get that. I can understand you agreeing to sell to Grace—no, she didn’t tell me, but it’s obvious she’s your buyer—before you knew the value of the property. But now that you know—okay, I don’t have a solid number right yet, but trust me when I tell you it’s huge—why would you go through with the sale?”
“Because I told her I would. And while I don’t owe you any explanations, I’ll just say Jim and I both agreed the house should be hers, and so it will be.”
“Liddy, wouldn’t this move faster if we just had Jim sell the property to Grace rather than have him sign it over to you, and then you sign it over to Grace?”
Liddy tapped her foot. Perhaps it had just occurred to Gretchen that if Jim were the seller, he might be more amenable to selling off at least part of the acreage, with Gretchen, of course, handling the transaction? Liddy could almost hear the argument, starting with, Does Grace really need three acres?
And if Jim knew how much the property was worth, might he be inclined to raise the selling price to Grace? It was too late, as far as Liddy was concerned, to change his mind.
“We’re doing this my way. He will sign it over to me, and I will sell it to Grace. You, of course, will handle the paperwork for both transactions.”
When Gretchen opened her mouth, Liddy held up a hand. “End of discussion, my friend.”
“I’m only trying to look out for your best interests, Liddy.”
Liddy softened. She believed Gretchen meant well. “I know you are, and I appreciate your concern. But this is a private matter between me and Grace.”
Gretchen sighed. “Okay. So if I can’t sell a bunch of houses for you, show me to a good book I can get lost in.”
“I have just the thing.” Liddy led her to the thriller section and handed her a book. “If this one doesn’t do it, nothing will.”
“Fine. I’ll give it a try.”
Minutes later, Gretchen left the shop, her new book under her arm, and Liddy all but collapsed against the counter.
“She’s a tough one,” Marion said.
“None tougher in this town. She sure worked me over.”
Liddy went into her office and dialed Jim’s cell. When he answered, she said, “Gretchen just stopped in. She didn’t have a number, but she says it will be huge. I don’t want you to change your mind, but I’d feel guilty if I didn’t tell you.”
“Pretty much what I already figured out. Thanks for letting me know, but I’ve never gone back on my word to you. I’m not about to start now. It is what it is.”