Last Chance Harbor (43 page)

While they waited for darkness to start the film, the prevailing buzz ran hot to cold. First, it was about Perry’s new partner, a hot, young graduate student from the Bay Area and whether or not the two men had plans for opening a winery in town. Or was it a brewery?

It was a mystery for sure and no one was talking.

Spotting Isabella Rialto in the crowd sitting with Logan and Kinsey and their babies, Julianne realized there were all different kinds of puzzles. There were enough rumors floating around about the lovely Izzy to fill the entire park. For some reason, Julianne got the sense that the same tongues at play with one newcomer applied to her as well. It wasn’t so much what they said to her face but how they acted whenever they were around her, especially if Ryder was nearby.

When Ryder came up behind her, kissed her ear, she settled against him, noting the display of affection garnered a few stares in the process. She shrugged off the gawking snoops, chalked it up to nothing more than curiosity.

“I want you to know you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time,” Ryder whispered.

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me. Want to prove it later?”

As the skies darkened, the projector began to flicker and the film credits rolled.

“Maybe we could sneak out and I could show you.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

The town council
had scheduled Pelican Pointe’s version of “music over the bay” for the third weekend in June. It wasn’t the local favorite Blue Skies or Ninth Dog that raced onto the scene as a headliner but a couple of talented sibling teens, named Sonnet and Sonoma Rafferty.

Somehow word had gotten out that the person to see about headlining a show this summer was Julianne. The two girls had shown up on Julianne’s doorstep the day after Memorial Day to show her what they could do with a fiddle.

After tuning up, it turned out the twelve- and thirteen-year-old sisters could do quite a bit. They didn’t have to get completely through
Cajun Fiddle
before Julianne was convinced these two were her “stars” for the very first event.

“What else can you play?”

“We play country and a few Irish jigs our dad taught us.”

“Who is your dad?”

“He owns the T-Shirt Shop. Over there, across the street,” said Sonoma. “Malachi Rafferty. We work there sometimes while he goes over to Santa Cruz on weekends to play in a club.”

“So he’s a musician as well?”

Sonnet nodded. “Sure. But during the week he sells T-shirts and other stuff to the tourists.”

“When we have them, that is,” Sonoma added. “We did really good in March during the street fair this year.”

“Well,” Julianne corrected automatically. “You did well during the street fair. Is your dad at the store right now?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because it looks like I’ve found my headliners for the first show and need to nail down his permission.”

Single father Malachi
Rafferty stood behind the counter of his cramped T-Shirt Shop where he spent every day from nine to five. In the four years he’d owned the place, he hadn’t bothered naming it anything other than T-Shirt Shop. It seemed unnecessary to get cutesy with the name. He sold souvenir shirts in various colors with the words “Smuggler’s Bay Pelican Pointe” silk-screened on the front or back. His business targeted the tourists who passed through town wanting to pick up a memento from the beach to take back home with them. Along with tacky things like shot glasses, ash trays, sea shells, and the like, he crammed as many beach essentials next to the counter as he could. Suntan oil, flip-flops, and swimsuits made for pricey impulse buys from people who hadn’t remembered to pack what they needed. Since his wife, Melody, had died three years earlier, he’d gotten complaints that the swimwear on display was outdated and looked it. But to Malachi that was their problem, not his. He never reordered a new line until the old stuff sold.

When they’d learned Melody had cancer, they’d decided to chunk their life back in Los Angeles to look for a new place to start over. They’d taken a trip through Pelican Pointe and fell for its proximity to the ocean. The town’s affordability had been a draw too. With starting up a new business, their money might last longer. But that notion hadn’t worked out during the unforeseen downturn in the economy. They hadn’t figured on it taking this long for the town to make a comeback. By the time it had, Melody had lost her battle with lymphoma.

When the door opened and a woman walked in, followed by his daughters, Malachi sensed trouble. Mainly because he was on his own where his two teenage girls were concerned. Even though Sonoma was the oldest, Sonnet was just as willing to rebel. Lately anytime either one got out of his sight, they came up with ways to torment him or get into trouble. He never knew what they were planning, or what to expect from day to day.

“Mr. Rafferty, I’m Julianne Dickinson. I’m your new neighbor from across the street. You know, the house at the end of the block I recently redid.”

“You did a great job, really improved it from the eyesore it used to be.”

“Good to hear you approve. Tell me, were you aware your daughters auditioned for me not fifteen minutes ago for the local talent concert I mentioned to the town council several weeks back?”

Malachi shot his daughters a stern look. “I told them not to bother you. That it would be a waste of time since folks around here are more into Blue Skies than anything else. Apparently, they didn’t listen.”

“Normally I would encourage children to heed their parents but in this case, I’m afraid boldness had a definite upside. Did you teach them how to play?”

“I used to give lessons back in Los Angeles.” He also used to play in a well-known, successful rock band but he didn’t intend to go down that road again by bringing it up. He hoped his precocious daughters had been just as tight-lipped.

“Then you must be as musically inclined as your daughters?”

“I play guitar now and then, usually over in Santa Cruz on Friday and Saturday nights to bring in some extra cash.”

Julianne smiled at him. “Excellent. I’d like to see you and your daughters headline the show.”

“What about Blue Skies? They’re usually the band of choice around here.”

“I’m sure they are. But as of today, no one in the band has approached me with any interest in playing at the pier. They’ve had several weeks to contact me since the council voted to put on the summer concert event at the wharf. We have an entire summer to fill the slots up, so I’m sure when Blue Skies has an opening and they’re ready, they’ll let me know. In the meantime, I’m sure several local musicians will want to get in on the act, which is the reason I suggested this in the first place to provide a venue for talent in the area. Since Sonnet and Sonoma took the initiative, I’m recommending you and your daughters to appear together onstage and kick things off for us. They’re quite good. Let’s hope you’re half as good as they are.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I hope you say yes because you have less than two weeks to come up with a playlist.”

When concert day
arrived, the town turned out front and center. Again, they hauled out their lawn chairs to sit up on the wharf or stretched blankets over the ground much like they had with movie night. Even fishermen made their way into port, dropping anchor to take in the performance from the decks of their boats.

A steady stream of tourists started drifting from the shops despite a heavy marine layer hanging over the water most of the day. Right up to show time Julianne was certain that the fog would ruin the whole thing. But then, thirty minutes before Malachi Rafferty and his daughters took the stage, the clouds miraculously parted and revealed a perfect summer solstice sky.

Julianne fought the temptation to glance around looking for Scott—it was the only thing that added up. There wasn’t time for such foolish thinking on her part though. She sought out Malachi to make sure he was ready and found him braiding Sonoma’s hair.

“Is everything okay over here?” Julianne asked.

“I’m nervous,” Sonnet admitted. “But Dad says there’s nothing to it. Just go out there and play like we were standing in our own living room.”

“That sounds like excellent advice. It’s almost go time.”

“How many people showed up?” Malachi wanted to know.

“The whole town.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Okay girls, let’s go out there and play our hearts out. Just get into the music and don’t worry about the crowd.”

The pier made for an intimate setting. Ryder and Troy had put together a stage, a platform two-feet high and twelve-feet square to give the performers an elevated advantage. With Malachi on guitar and Sonoma and Sonnet on violin, as soon as the trio began the first notes of
Boot Scootin’ Boogie
, the audience roared its enthusiasm.

No one was more surprised than Julianne when Malachi began to sing out the lyrics. Her mouth dropped open as Ryder whispered to her, “Where did you say you found him? Why does his voice sound so familiar?”

“His daughters found me. They were right across the street. This guy owns the T-Shirt Shop. But wow, the question is why. His kids are prodigies and he has the voice of a rock star.”

“Just shows you this town is full of surprises.”

It was as if Malachi had used his voice and initial song to calm his daughters. Because after that one number, he let them have the floor. Sonnet and Sonoma didn’t disappoint. When Malachi switched from guitar to mandolin, he led the girls from lively tunes into soulful classics and then back into toe-tapping Celtic ditties that had the crowd moving and on its feet.

Julianne noticed the pure pride on Malachi’s face. The proud papa watched the throng get into the music. 

She and Ryder never sat down. They swayed on their feet, arms locked around each other. That was pretty much what the other couples did as well—Nick and Jordan, Troy and Bree, Murphy and Carla, Ethan and Hayden, Cord and Keegan, Logan and Kinsey, Pete Alden and new wife, Betty.

A group of older women—Ina, Marabelle, Myrtle, and Prissie kept time sitting in their folding chairs.

Kids danced. But two teen boys, Jason Broderick and Connor Davis, seemed particularly fascinated with the main attraction—Sonoma and Sonnet.

Ninety minutes later when the Raffertys finally wound down, the enthusiastic multitude showed their appreciation. The town got to its feet, gave them a standing O while the boats in the harbor used their foghorns to signal a ringing endorsement.