Home to Seaview Key. Sherryl Woods
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“So you’re in?” he asked now.
“I’ll get you a check by the beginning of the week to kick off the drive to raise the money,” she promised, then held his gaze. “Will it offend you if I do it in a very public way? Maybe hold a little press conference?”
“That is the way the game is played, isn’t it?” he said.
She studied him. “But you don’t like it, do you?”
He sighed. “Actually I totally get it. The community needs that boat. I’m not going to do or say anything that might undermine the prospects for that happening.”
They reached her front porch then.
“Would you like some coffee or a glass of tea before you head home?” she asked.
Seth told himself he ought to leave, ought to avoid anything that might lead to the two of them getting any more involved. Despite the stern mental lecture, though, he said, “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee, if you’re sure you’re not anxious to get to sleep.”
“I’m a night owl,” she assured him. “That’s what it takes to run a restaurant and I’m still not out of the habit. But I’ll make the coffee decaf, in case you’re not.”
“Decaf’s probably a good idea,” he said, following her inside.
Though she’d made good progress in airing out the house and cleaning it up, there were still enough signs of the years of neglect for him to guess that the task had been monumental. That she’d been tackling it on her own didn’t seem to fit with the woman wearing those expensive linen slacks, a silk blouse and diamond stud earrings, and shoes that no doubt cost as much as his weekly take-home pay.
“Can I ask you something?” he said when they had their coffee and were back on the porch with a light breeze coming in off the water.
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you hire a cleaning crew to tackle this place? It would have been finished in a day.”
“I needed a project,” she said simply. “More important, I think maybe I needed to remember who I used to be.”
“Since I doubt you were ever a maid, you need to explain that one.”
“You asking for a history lesson?” she quipped.
He nodded. “I’m trying to figure you out,” he admitted.
“Okay, here’s the short version. When I was a kid, my parents owned this land, but we didn’t have a lot of money. My grandfather had settled on Seaview Key when it was still just a mostly inaccessible fishing village. He fished, but he also invested in land, which my parents inherited. They were determined to keep it, to keep the island as unspoiled as it had been. Back then I didn’t fully appreciate that, especially since I had to get a job in high school to help out and needed scholarships for college.”
“If that’s true, where’d you get the money to start that restaurant? Did you sell off an acre or two back then?”
“No way. The land wasn’t mine then and my parents would never have agreed to sell. I’d worked hard and saved every extra penny. It turned out I had a head for business. I made a few investments with my savings and they paid off. It gave me enough of a nest egg to start the restaurant.”
“How old were you then?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Holy mackerel!” he said, impressed.
She smiled at his reaction. “Step one in the evolution of Abby Dawson,” she agreed. “Then I got married. My husband was pastor to a very wealthy congregation. I told you earlier that my restaurant caught on. It catered to a very upscale clientele. I got used to keeping up appearances. That completed the evolution to Abby Miller.” She wrinkled her nose as if she found that Abby distasteful.
“What was so terrible about her?” he asked. He knew that having money could change people and not always for the better, but she still seemed pretty down-to-earth to him. In fact, that’s why he remained so intrigued. If she’d been a rich snob sporting a moneyed, entitled attitude, it would be easier to ignore these sparks that kept flaring between them.
“I don’t want to come off trying to sound like some poor little rich girl, but that wasn’t who I am,” she explained simply. “I had a lot of time on my hands after the divorce to think about that. I realized I’d truly been happier back here with a family that didn’t have much except the land around us.”
“In that case, I’m surprised you want to develop it,” Seth told her.
“Believe me, I gave it a lot of thought. Seaview Key needs something if it’s going to thrive. I’m in a position to make that something happen in a responsible way.” She regarded him earnestly. “I’m going to do this right, Seth. There wouldn’t be much point in coming back for the serenity I remembered and then seeing it ruined.”
“So, scrubbing floors has gotten you back to basics,” he suggested, trying to put what she’d said in perspective.
She nodded. “And I’m hoping that raising the money for this rescue boat will be one way to be part of this community again. A donation might be great public relations, but putting in an effort will probably do more for me in the long haul. I want to be accepted, Seth, not as some benevolent outsider, but as a local who cares about what happens around here.”
He was surprised by the hint of yearning in her voice. “Being accepted really matters to you, then?”
“Sure. Doesn’t it matter to everybody, when you get right down to it? Don’t you care about being a part of the community?”
Seth honestly hadn’t thought about it. He’d come for a visit. Luke had persuaded him to stay. The town had been eager to hire someone with his background as a medic. He’d felt accepted from the beginning.
“I guess I thought if I did my job, that would be enough,” he said.
“That’s because you didn’t burn a lot of bridges when you left,” she said, a rueful expression on her face. “I need to make up for some of the things I said about this town. I couldn’t wait to get away. Other than Luke and my friendship with Hannah, this place held nothing but bad memories for me.”
“And yet you came back.”
“Perspective,” she said. “Maturity. I’m the first to admit I didn’t see the big picture back then.”
He admired her honesty, but he wondered if she wasn’t deluding herself, just as Luke had warned. Had she really changed so much?
“Are you sure Seaview Key is what you’re looking for?” he asked, trying to reconcile it with the sophisticated woman sitting beside him. Was it possible for her to forego the lifestyle she’d obviously had in the Florida Panhandle?
“Can I say it with absolute certainty?” she asked. “No, but I’m hoping I’ve gotten it right this time. I liked the person I was back then a whole lot more than the person I’ve become.”
“You