Letters and Lace (The Ronan's Harbor Series)

by M. Kate Quinn

  He had never really blamed Ann Marie. Her bitterness had grown from a disappointment Benny couldn’t fix. Ann Marie had wanted children. Hell, he had, too.

  Shooting blanks is what his brother had said as a result of the gruesome testing he’d had to endure. Slow swimmers is what the doctor had said in his lingo for a layman. Whatever the vernacular, the truth was that there would be no kids for Benny and Ann Marie.

  That sorry news had only intensified whatever had been wrong with the two of them, and he knew there’d been plenty. But it had become unbearable when they’d discovered that for eternity all they’d ever have was each other. It didn’t take Ann Marie long to get the hell out of Dodge.

  He thought of the Christmas card he’d spied one year on the fridge in Sal and Bernadine’s kitchen. It had been more than an odd feeling seeing his former wife and her new husband, two kids and a dog, peering into a lens. One click forever captured their happy life.

  He charged up the steps of the cottage and went inside. He sat alone in the living room for a while, staring at nothing, thinking of everything. He closed his eyes, breathed in and breathed out.

  He released his tight lids. Focusing his eyes, it was like seeing the room for the first time. It was a small, square box of a space. The wood floor was marred with scratches, a perfect match for the lumpy walls. He looked up at the ceiling where the light fixture that no longer worked still clung to the surface, rusty patches dotting its rim. Even the damned electrical wiring needed upgrading.

  He viewed the furnishings that had come with the house, the nubby plaid sofa, chipped veneer side tables, cheap glass lamps with stained shades.

  Nothing about this place spoke of care. Not like Sarah’s Cornelia Inn. He remembered the way the she had spoken of her roots in the home, of the old lady she’d named it after.

  He shook his head. He guessed nobody had ever loved this little dump. He smiled mirthlessly. It was no wonder that it was his name on the deed.

  Benny stretched his arms over his head and craned his neck to relieve the tension that had taken residence. He had a call to make.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Okay, friend o’mine,” Gigi intoned when Sarah reentered the kitchen. She waved her empty wine glass at her. “Pour us some more truth serum and let’s have a little talk.”

  Sarah went to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. She pulled the wine bottle out by its neck and brought it over to the island, firmly placing the bottle down with her fingers still wound around it.

  “Easy, tiger, this isn’t a ship that needs christening.” Gigi reached across the island and took the bottle from Sarah’s grasp. She poured a half glass for each of them. “Sit,” she said.

  Sarah collapsed onto a stool across from Gigi, her arms dangling at her sides.

  “Drink,” Gigi said.

  Sarah looked at her, but didn’t move. “I hate him.”

  Gigi didn’t respond, but instead eyed Sarah over the rim of her wine glass.

  Sarah said it louder. “I hate him.” She dangled the wine glass in front of her, rotating her wrist to make the golden liquid dance in its bowl. “You wanted the truth. And there it is.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She took a swig of the cool wine. But the fragrant blend did not erase the thoughts swimming around in her head. Benny Benedetto had done something to her that no man had ever done before. He’d gotten her mad enough to yell.

  All the things that she’d gone through with Gary—all the times he’d made a fool of her, the way he belittled her in front of people and in private—in all that time she’d never once, not one single time, yelled at him.

  And now this interloper had turned her into a banshee. That had to be hate. She sipped again.

  “The man certainly stirs something in you, that’s for sure.”

  “Don’t think your innuendo escapes me,” Sarah said. She was finally feeling the effect of the wine she’d ingested. She realized she could breathe fully again. “But it’s ludicrous to say the least. Have you forgotten that he’s trying to sabotage Hannah’s wedding for his own selfish purposes? Well, I haven’t.”

  “Better tell that to your pheromones.”

  Sarah stared at her spiky-haired friend as she sat there puckering her pretty, smirky, over-lipsticked mouth. There was no rationalizing this with Gigi. That much she knew.

  Her side-kick was a hopeless believer in fairy tales. Currently her latest delusion was that the infamous Mickey Dolan was back on his shining, white steed, ready to whisk her away to happily ever after. In their case, apparently that meant Las Vegas.

  “Aren’t we drinking in the afternoon because you have a toast to make?” Sarah took a sip, silently toasting her segue away from Benny Benedetto.

  “Well, yes, actually. Mickey’s coming over tonight to ‘discuss our future.’” Gigi clapped her hands. “He’s going to propose.”

  “Gigi.” Sarah couldn’t help using her mommy voice. Her best friend often seemed in need of parenting. “Take it easy. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  “He was going to get our tickets today, he’s already booked the hotel and,”—she poked a finger in the air for emphasis—”I found a receipt in his pocket from a jewelry store at the Monmouth Mall.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “A fancy jeweler.”

  “Okay, I’ll speak in your language. A, you don’t know that means he purchased a ring, and B, why are you rummaging through his pockets?”

  Gigi shrugged a coy shoulder. “A girl has to stay informed, that’s all. The receipt doesn’t say the item was a ring, granted, but hell you just saw that opal necklace Hannah pulled out of that box. No ring would outshine the sentiment in something like that. Maybe Mickey’s got some of that same romance inside those sexy bones of his. I don’t care what the bauble is. I’ll love it and I’ll know what it means.”

  “But…”

  “No.” Gigi held a hand to her chest. “Sarah, honey, look. I’m going with my feelings on this. I have to listen to what’s in here no matter what. Honest to God, you should do the same.”

  “Gigi,” Sarah said, not caring that she sounded skeptical. The hope in her friend’s eyes stopped her litany. She tendered a conciliatory smile. “If this will make you happy I hope that’s just how tonight goes.”

  Gigi jumped up and dashed around the island like a schoolgirl, throwing her arms around Sarah. “I love you.” She squeezed hard then pulled out of the embrace. “I have to run. I’ve scheduled a manicure, you know, just in case it is a ring,” she gushed. “Which I think it is. I just do.”

  She grabbed her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. With her hand on the doorknob she gave Sarah a winning smile. “Wish me luck.”

  Sarah blew her a kiss and Gigi caught it and held it to her heart.

  ****

  Sarah cleaned up the kitchen. Thoughts of the day’s events careened around in her head despite her attempts to concentrate on the rote task of rinsing suds from the wine glasses and tea mugs.

  She hoped Gigi was doing the right thing in going off with Mickey Dolan to Vegas. But, again, she realized she knew next to nothing about men, and even less about relationships. Not to mention pheromones and the havoc they caused.

  She checked on Harvey and Richie. They were still at it, sawing off subflooring in a warped area. Again, they assured her they would make every effort to complete the project in what Harvey termed a “jiffy.”

  Before it went an inch further, it was time for Sarah to tell them the facts. Her stomach ached with the heaviness of the truth she’d swallowed earlier. “Harvey, hold up.”

  Harvey put down a flat spatula-looking tool and stepped over to her. “It looks worse than it is, Sarah.” His voice was assuring.

  “I found out I need a permit for this work.”

  Richie stopped his hammering and came over to where they stood. The two men exchanged a look then focused their gaze on her.

  “You mean, now that we’ve discovered the job�
��s going to be bigger than we thought?”

  She blew out a long breath and turned her head in the direction of the staircase. She lowered her voice. “Well that certainly compounds it, yes. But, I received a complaint from the township committee protesting any renovation without a permit.”

  “Well that can’t be good.” Richie said.

  Harvey shot him an annoyed look.

  Richie shrugged. “What do you want from me? I’m a carpenter, not a lawyer.”

  Harvey turned his attention to Sarah. “I’m sorry. I should have double-checked but this seemed like such a simple little job. All the work I’ve done around town has been for private residences. Maybe they’re bigger sticklers for inns.”

  He shook his head. “You know, I had an auto body shop before doing this stuff. When that went bust I started doing odd jobs for folks. I should have known to check with the committee since this is a place of business as well as a residence. I screwed up.”

  Sarah thought of her first contact with Harvey. He and his buddy Richie had been outside a neighbor’s house painting their siding. The neighbor had given him a glowing reference. When she’d heard he had a family to support and a business that had gone under, well she’d hired him on the spot. Little did any of them know that Sarah’s renovations would require permission.

  “We all screwed up, Harvey. Guys, look. For now, let’s put the work on hold until I straighten this out. I’ve already filed for the permits, but now we’ll need to provide a new drawing of the work involved.”

  “They’re definitely going to need to know about this.” Harvey pointed to an area of black mold stains on the subflooring. “Or else they may shut us down again.”

  She gave a sad nod. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll write up the new estimate and we’ll get it to town hall as quickly as I can, Sarah. Okay?”

  She gave him a smile. “That would be great.”

  ****

  Upstairs Sarah found Hannah asleep on top of her bedclothes. The box Harvey found in the basement was on the floor near the bed. The small jewelry chest now sat on her nightstand. The little drawer front that had come off in her hand was set beside it.

  Sarah couldn’t help but think of Benny’s advice about the wood glue to repair the drawer. Why did he have to be such an overall jerk? It just didn’t seem fair.

  Hannah looked so peaceful sleeping there on her side, her legs curled up at an angle. One hand dangled over the edge of the mattress. Her hair was splayed around her shoulders, strands fanning over her face.

  Sarah could not resist the urge to lightly brush her fingertips over the wisps as she’d done more times than she could count when her child had needed mom’s reassuring hand. The move gave Sarah a nice view of Hannah’s face and that’s when she noticed the opal necklace clasped at her neck.

  Feeling an odd zing of alarm, Sarah gazed over at the clock on the dresser. It was time to get ready for the tasting event scheduled for that evening. Ian was due to arrive soon. She gave Hannah’s shoulder a gentle shake.

  “Hannah, come on, honey,” Sarah said when the girl didn’t stir.

  Hannah opened her eyes and volunteered an easy, groggy smile, the kind Sarah remembered from when her daughter had been a girl and more carefree.

  ****

  Ian arrived early, his usual, always-ahead-of-schedule self. Still in his business attire, he was a dapper sight in a fine-cut navy suit. His white shirt was still crisp even after a full day’s work; his paisley-print tie added just the right hint of whimsy to his otherwise staid appearance. He was a walking, talking storefront mannequin. He greeted Sarah politely, kissing her cheek with cool lips.

  “Where’s our girl?” he asked genially.

  “Still fussing.” Sarah smiled.

  Her daughter and Ian made a striking couple, Hannah with her downy mane and fair skin, he with his angled face and dark hair. What a bride and groom they’ll make, she mused, a photographer’s dream.

  Sarah gave his face another look. Ian had no bad angles. It was as if he’d been made from a cast.

  “Whoa,” he said as he looked through to the open doors of the sunroom. “What’s that all about?”

  Harvey and Richie had packed up most of their gear and tarped the area in which they’d been working, but the disturbance to the room was still quite evident.

  “The carpenters found a leak. They’re almost through fixing it.” She surprised herself with the easy lie.

  Ian made his way toward the room and Sarah followed, a clench forming in her chest. She was a school girl with the teacher scrutinizing her science fair project with a critical eye.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Sarah said lightly. “Are you, uh, looking forward to tonight’s tasting?”

  Ian didn’t respond. She watched him as he surveyed the space with a scowl so similar to one Gary often planted on his own face that her body started to brace the same way it used to.

  Hannah appeared, freshly showered and dressed in a cute, little blue dress. A puff of floral scent preceded her into the room. “Hi,” she said, coming up next to Ian.

  He turned to her and kissed her temple. “Hi, babe,” he said absently. “Look at this, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said and sighed. “They promised it won’t be a problem time-wise.” She cocked her head, angling her gaze to meet his. “What do you think?”

  He shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t look promising, I’ll say that. It’s more than a little disconcerting, but I’ll admit I have no clue about these things.”

  The doorbell rang. Even though Sarah knew it had to be Gary and Piper, she was relieved for the diversion from the condition of the sunroom. She hurried to the door.

  Gary stood erect with little Tina in his arms, all snug in her denim jacket with the faux leopard collar that matched her mom’s.

  “Come in,” Sarah smiled. “Hope we’re all hungry,” she added as they came into the foyer.

  “Say hi, honeybunch,” Piper said as Gary set Tina down.

  The little girl looked up shyly at Sarah and tucked her chin. Admittedly she was a pretty child with auburn hair like her mother’s, and a pouty mouth all her own.

  Sarah bent down to her. “Hello, Miss Tina,” She said. “We’re all going to a little party tonight to taste the food for Hannah and Ian’s wedding. Won’t that be fun?”

  No reaction. Tina sucked the tips of her index and middle fingers into her mouth. Her steady eyes penetrated Sarah’s much like Gary’s used to when he wasn’t telling her he thought she was stupid, but sure as hell thinking it.

  Hannah and Ian greeted the new arrivals.

  Just when Sarah thought they’d escaped Gary’s observance of the sunroom, she felt like she’d been catapulted back to the science fair.

  Gary’s head snapped in that direction. “What the hell, may I ask, is that?” He strode to the doorway of the sunroom like Heathcliff back from the moors. Unfortunately, everybody else followed.

  “That was my reaction, too.” Ian sidled up beside Gary, the two tall men making a wall in the doorway. Each stood with the same stance, hands in their trouser pockets, their heads angled to one side like the dog in the old Victrola ads from Sarah’s grandma’s day.

  “Ridiculous,” Gary said under his breath.

  “You think it’ll be ready in time?” Ian asked Gary as if he had anything to do with it.

  Gary shook his head. “I don’t see how, buddy.”

  “What do you think we should do?” Ian continued.

  Irritation rose in her. Thanks to Mr. Benedetto she had not only learned how to feel anger, but how to express it. And she was about to. Instead she posed, “We don’t want to be late.”

  Hannah, the only one who was listening to her, looked at her watch. “Mom’s right,” she said to Ian, who did not respond. “Ian,” she said louder.

  He turned in her direction. “I’m sorry, babe. What did you say?”

  “We have to leave,” she said.

  Piper chimed i
n, as if taking the cue. “Gary, come on let’s go. Tina, do you have to use the potty?” She crouched in front of her child.

  “No poo-poo,” the girl said.

  “How about pee-pee?”

  “No.”

  Bodily functions established, they filed toward the door. While Sarah grabbed her jacket from the hall closet, she felt a presence beside her. She didn’t have to look to see that it was Gary. She could smell his over-zealous application of top-shelf cologne from a mile away.

  “I’m putting my foot down this time,” he whispered hotly. “We’re moving the wedding to my club.”

  Sarah slipped her arms into her jacket sleeves. Typically, Gary neglected to offer a chivalrous hand. She grabbed her purse, closed the closet door, and stepped around him.

  “We’re not discussing this now.”

  This was supposed to be a joyous event. She would not allow his opinion to blemish the moment and she certainly wasn’t about to fuel it with a response. But inside she was Mount Vesuvius and this ex-husband of hers was looking like a resident of Pompeii.

  From the open front door Piper said, “Gary, Tina wants you to carry her to the car.”

  “Daddy,” the child called, confirming the statement. She reached her little arms out to him.

  He acquiesced, leaving Sarah alone in the entryway, the last to leave.

  ****

  Melrose Caterers was dressed for company with linen tablecloths adorning round high-topped tables, the long white fabric flowing long and elegant. Candles twinkled in cut glass holders. Long buffet tables arched in a crescent in the center of the room. Attendants, dressed in white and black, served offerings from expertly shined silver chafing dishes.

  Champagne flowed freely, no glass left empty for long. Tina, the only child in attendance, was given a special Shirley Temple cocktail with three cherries, at her pouty insistence.

  “Unbelievable,” Ian said. His mouth closed over a morsel of crab-stuffed mushroom cap. “Wonderful,” he punctuated after he swallowed.

  “I’ve had four of the baby lamb chops. Melt in your mouth.” Gary sipped his champagne, pulling the whole strawberry into his mouth. “You’re driving tonight, babe.” He winked at Piper.