Chapter 19

The past weekhas flown by with me and Dean spending most of our time together. Occasionally, Thomas and Lucas would tag along with us in my car. Lucas preferred to spend his time with Thomas, who sometimes would take him to meet up with Walt and Levi. That had left me and Dean alone more often than not so we spent our time cuddled together on the beach or, in the evenings, on the sofa. We had taken the time to get to know each other more. Dean had spoken about his love of drawing and art while I had spoken about the joys of being a teacher to a mischievous class of seven-year-olds.

I will really miss Thomas when the summer is over, and leaving Thomas, will probably break Lucas’s heart. At least with Lucas constantly being entertained he hasn’t missed his parents as much as I’d thought he would. In fact, he’s hardly spent time with me since we arrived. I’m not too bothered because of the wonderful friendship he’s found with Thomas. Lucas talks to his parents’ on the phone most nights, and he goes over his antics of the day with them.

Today, he’s gone fishing again with Thomas, and they’ve planned to read some more comics while I haven’t even picked up Rose’s diary in a week. I’ve been too exhausted and giddy after spending my days with Dean.

“Spend the day with me?” Dean asks, making me jump, as I was lost in thought.

He walks over to me as I glance. “I’d like that. Do you want to go to the beach? I thought we could take a picnic with us. I want to tell you about something.”

“That would be great.”

As I pull a small picnic together, Dean walks over and takes a blanket from the drawer. Tucking it under his arm, he picks up the picnic basket and holding my hand we head down to the beach.

During the walk, I wonder whether I’m making the right decision, trusting a guy I’ve only known for a short period of time. He’s certainly the first guy to get my libido to sit up and take notice from the get-go. That has never happened to her before so perhaps it’s an omen.

I lead Dean over to the sheltered section of beach, which I’ve come to favor over the past few weeks, wondering if it’s the same part of the beach that Rose and Jacob claimed so many years before.

Dean unfolds the blanket as I set the beach mats with the back supports built in on top of them—these are the best purchase I’ve made in a long time. I loved sitting on the beach and reading. With this support, I’m rather comfortable and can sit for hours.

Dean sits down and reclining against one of the mats, he holds his hand out for me. I reach into my purse for the diary, and then snuggle into a comfortable position between his legs, resting against his chest. He wraps his arms around me while we enjoy the peace and quiet for a few minutes.

I break the silence. “The day after we moved into Rose Cottage, I was placing some boxes on top of the cabinets in the kitchen and found this.” I show him the diary. “When I opened it, the first page says, ‘This is the diary of a Rose, March 4, 1947.’”

“Wow, that’s some time ago.”

“I know. I’ve been reading it, and it’s a love story between Rose and a young man by the name of Jacob Evans.”

I feel Dean still and I give him a quizzical look. “Carry on, it’s interesting,” he says.

“It’s so sad, Dean. They didn’t even know each other more than two months when she died trying to run away with him to Boston.”

Silence goes on longer than I expect, so I question, “Dean?”

“Yeah.” He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“The part that upsets me the most is that the night Rose died, Jacob had no idea she’d passed away. All these years, her family led him to believe she married someone else.”

“Seriously?” he exclaims.

“She was on her way to meet him when she died. A few days later, Jacob called to ask about Rose and her father told Jacob that she had stayed and married this other man, Richard. He told Jacob that she didn’t want anything to do with him. So, all these years, he’s believed she chose someone else.”

“That’s so sad, Mack.”

“Exactly. I found him. Jacob Evans. He’s ninety and lives in Brookline, Boston. I left a message with his housekeeper, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. I know he’s married, but I need to tell him that Rose really did love him. I need to tell him that she died before meeting him that night.”

I turn my face toward Dean. “Thomas is Rose’s brother. She referred to him in her diary as JT. He told me what his father said to Jacob on the phone. Do you think that I’m right in wanting to tell Jacob about Rose? It really does break my heart.”

He stares into my eyes, which swim with tears. “Come here.” He pulls me closer and uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away.

“Yes, I do.” He inhales deeply. “I’ll help you see Jacob Evans because I’m?—”

“Auntie Mack, look at the size of this fish,” Lucas shouts, running toward us on the beach.

I stand and start heading toward Lucas, and say over my shoulder, “Thanks, for listening.”

I run over to Lucas. “That is huge.” Then I stop short. “Is it dead?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course, it’s dead.” Lucas replies in disgust.

I laugh at the indignation on his face. “Would you both like a sandwich?”

I drop down on the blanket as Dean starts to wrestle on the sand with Lucas. I wish this was my family. That’s something I’ve never wished for before, with anyone else, until now. Reading Rose’s diary has made me long for that kind of love and commitment.

There is something real happening between me and Dean, although we don’t know a great deal, if anything, about each other. Over the past week, I’ve mentioned family, but for some reason he always changes the subject. Although, on one or two occasions, Lucas had interrupted.

“No thanks, Mack. We’ll leave you two alone. We’re going to put the fish in the fridge, have lunch, then more comic reading.” Taking hold of Lucas, Thomas pulls him along.

“Bye, Auntie Mack. Bye, Dean.” Lucas waves.

“See you later, champ.” Dean smiles at Lucas as he ruffles his hair.

“We’ll see you both later then,” I say.

With an odd look on Dean’s face, he asks, “Tell me about yourself, Mackenzie?” He takes hold of my hand and tugs me down to cuddle into his side with my head resting on his shoulder and his arm around me.

I smile, inhaling deeply. “You already know some of this but let me refresh your memory. Mackenzie Louise Harper is twenty-seven years old and a teacher from Roslindale, Boston. Her parents are Louise and Alex Harper, who are fifty-nine and sixty-five years old, respectively. They live in a retirement village on the North Shore after spending more than thirty-five years teaching high school. My sister, Melinda, is four years older than me and married to a doctor, Daniel. They only have the one son, Lucas. I’m not divorced, married, and I’m in a relationship with you. I think that about covers it. What about you?”

He inhales. “Mack, my name is Dean James…Evans.”

I still in his arms at hearing Evans from his lips.

He continues, “My mother’s maiden name is Simone. I’m a graphic novelist, and my sister, Alice, is five years older than me and married to Simon, who’s in financing.”

He takes a trembling breath. “I’m thirty-two, never been married. My parents are Anne and James, who are sixty-five and sixty-eight years old, respectively. They live with my grandparents in Brookline… They are Jacob and Eliza Evans.”

“Oh,” I whisper, so quietly I’m not sure he heard me.

“Mack, did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I murmur.

“I wanted to tell you the minute the name Simone left my mouth, and I don’t know why I didn’t, or rather I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of a woman I couldn’t take my eyes off. I’m truly sorry, Mack.”

“Why?” I hug my knees and gaze out at sea.

“My grandfather made a lot of money, and so did my father, for that matter. People get ideas about it and contact us for various reasons, sometimes shady reasons. When I heard Martha on the phone with you, I told her that I would check you out first. I knew the minute I saw you that you weren’t in that category, but I’m so worked up over you and want you like crazy that I can’t kiss you again until you know the truth.”

He pauses and then continues, “After listening to you earlier, I think my grandfather really is your Jacob Evans. I have an Aunt Rosalind. Could he have named her after Rose?”

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Yes.”

After what feels like an hour of silence but is only five minutes, I take hold of Dean’s hand and lace my fingers with his. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you told me now, rather than later,” I admit, blushing.

Dean moves in close. “Am I forgiven?”

“Is that the only untruth you’ve told me?”

He looks slightly sheepish. “I really am in this relationship with you.” He declares. “But my mother is trying to marry me off to her friend’s daughter, Cynthia. That’s one of the reasons why I decided to check you out. I needed to get away from her matchmaking. I was glad I did the moment I met you.”

“Cynthia?”

He sighs. “Yeah. My mother decided she wanted grandchildren, and my sister refused to cooperate, so she focused on me. Cynthia’s mother has been friends with mine since school, and as we’re of a similar age and background, they decided to push us together.”

He glances at me. “I’m not interested in Cynthia. In fact, she’s starting to annoy me, always showing up wherever I am. No one but Martha knows I’m here right now, and I plan to keep it that way. You’re the only one I want, Mack.”

I smile and brush the hair from his forehead. “Thank you for telling me. What was the other reason?”

He offers an embarrassed smirk. “Curiosity, after your message. I love my grandparents, so I’ll take you to see him and distract my grandmother while you speak with him.”

I frown and he continues, “They go everywhere together, always have and always will, I guess,” he swallows back the lump in his throat, “when one passes away, the other one will follow not long after, I’m certain.”

I gently use my fingers to wipe the tears away from her eyes. “Oh, Dean.”

I climb astride him and take hold of his face, then place a light kiss to his lips. “That is so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time.”

“Yes, it is.” He moves close, his tongue tracing along the soft fullness of my lips. I give myself freely to the passion of his kiss and hearing him groan is a heady sensation.

Desperate for more of him, I wriggle further onto his lap, where I come into contact with his pulsing length. I run my hands through his hair, deepen the kiss even further, and rub myself on him.

Dean pulls away, breathless. “Hell, Mack. We have to stop because I’m seconds away from taking you here on the beach.”

I place a light kiss against his lips. “I want that, too.” Dean’s eyes flare. “Lucas could reappear. Heck, what am I thinking? We’re on an open beach, you made me forget,” I shyly confess.

He rests his forehead against mine. “I know.”

I climb off him and avoid looking into his lap. “Do you want me to read some of the diary to you?”

“That would be great.” He pulls me in beside him.

“I must warn you, there’s some racy writing in it.” I laugh at the look on Dean’s face.

“Can’t we miss those bits?”

“No, we cannot,” I grin slyly. “Those are the best bits.”