“I know it’s late,” Walter said. “But I saw your lights on and I know you stay up late sometimes and—”
“Come in,” Jane told him.
Only when Walter was inside did she remember that his mother was upstairs in her guest room.
“I want to talk to you about my mother,” Walter said.
“What about her?” Jane asked, keeping her eye on the stairs in case Byron made an appearance. She hoped Miriam would keep quiet long enough for her to get rid of Walter.
“She’d kill me if she knew I was here,” Walter said. “I had to wait for her to fall asleep before I snuck out of the house.” He chuckled. “I swear, she makes me feel like I’m fifteen years old.”
“Well, you’ll always be her little boy,” said Jane.
Walter nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I will. But I don’t have to act like her little boy.”
“What do you mean?” Jane asked.
Walter reached into the pocket of his jacket and took out a box. Getting down on one knee, he said, “I know we’ve been back and forth and up and down and all around this issue. I’ve been afraid of my mother and you’ve been afraid of, well, whatever it is you’re afraid of. But Jane, the only thing that matters is that I love you and you love me. Nothing else is important. Just love.” He took a deep breath. “So, Jane Fairfax, I’m asking you one last time. Will you marry me?”
Jane heard a noise. Glancing up the stairs, she saw Byron and Miriam huddled together at the top. Byron had one hand over Miriam’s mouth and the other over his own. They were both staring wide-eyed at the scene below.
“Jane?”
Walter’s voice brought Jane’s attention back to the moment. She looked into his eyes and saw the air shimmering around him.
“Yes, Walter Fletcher,” she said. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter 30
“It’s certainly been an eventful couple of weeks.”
Jane accepted the glass of wine Lucy was holding out to her. They were standing on Jane’s deck, looking out at a yard teeming with people. It was early evening, the air was warm, and Jane was reminded of the summers in the English countryside.
“This is how it all started,” said Lucy, leaning against the railing of the deck. “With a barbecue.”
“Well, it started a bit before that,” Jane began. Then she saw the smile on Lucy’s face. “You mean you and Ben,” she said.
“Are you surprised that he and I got together?” asked Lucy.
Jane thought about telling Lucy how she’d seen the sparks flying between her and Ben that night. But she decided not to. That particular talent was one it was probably best to keep secret. You never know when it will come in handy, she told herself.
“Delightfully surprised,” she said in answer to Lucy’s question. “I think you make a lovely couple.”
Lucy sighed happily. “As do you and Walter,” she said. “Show me the ring again.”
Jane held out her left hand. On the ring finger was a small but flawless diamond in a beautiful antique setting. Lucy held Jane’s hand, admiring the ring for a moment. “And you say it belonged to Walter’s great-grandmother?” she said.
Jane nodded. “Calpernia Higgenbotham,” she said. “Apparently her husband, Hector, saved his earnings from his job as a newspaper copy boy for a whole year to buy it for her. Calpernia’s family came from money, and her father objected to Hector because he wasn’t wealthy. But he was so impressed by Hector’s perseverance that he gave his blessing to their engagement. He also bought the newspaper at which Hector worked and made him an editor, so everything worked out splendidly.”
Lucy looked at Jane and a mischievous twinkle filled her eyes. “Miriam must be beside herself,” she said.
Jane looked around for Walter’s mother. Miriam was seated in a chair beneath one of the old elm trees. Lilith was on her lap and Miriam was having an animated discussion with Sherman Applebaum, whose hands moved about gracefully as he spoke.
“I thought she was going to have a stroke when she saw me wearing it,” Jane said, causing both her and Lucy to laugh happily.
“What’s so funny?”
Walter and Ben emerged from the house, each with a beer in one hand. Walter stood beside Jane, while Ben put his arm around Lucy. She leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Everything is funny,” Jane said. “Just look around.”
“It is a pretty odd group we’ve got here,” Walter admitted.
Jane nodded. “Perhaps,” she said. “But we have so much to celebrate—our engagement, the end of the film shoot, good friends.”
“Jessica’s murder,” Walter added.
“I don’t know if that’s something to celebrate, exactly,” Jane said.
“You did get Kelly back because of it,” Lucy reminded Jane.
Apart from becoming engaged to Walter, this was indeed the best thing to happen to Jane since the beginning of the summer. As it turned out, Kelly was not as happy being an agent as he had been being an editor. Upon Jessica’s untimely retirement he had been offered his old job back and had taken it.
Jane feigned shock. “You are all positively ghoulish,” she said. “As if I could possibly take any enjoyment from the misfortunes of others.”
“We’re sorry,” Lucy said softly. A second later she added, “But Jessica really was kind of a bitch.”
Jane pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. It was wicked of her, she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling some small measure of relief that someone as awful as Jessica Abernathy was no longer in the world. She had no literary taste, she thought. Besides, it’s not as if she’s going to hear us and have her feelings hurt.
Her thoughts were interrupted as a camera was thrust into her face.
“Ant!” Shelby said. “Enough already!”
“I just want to get some footage of the wrap party,” he said. He turned to Jane. “How was the experience of seeing your book turned into a movie?” he asked.
“I didn’t actually see much of it at all,” Jane said. “They really didn’t need me for anything.”
“Are you excited about seeing how it turns out?”
“I’m aquiver with joyous anticipation,” Jane said.
Ant lowered the camera and turned it off. He sighed. “You’re still boring,” he said, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’ll go talk to some of the actors.”
“Sorry about that,” said Shelby as her brother walked away.
“I’ve told you a dozen times, there’s no need to apologize for him,” Jane told the girl. “He’s not your responsibility.”
“I know,” Shelby said. “It’s just a habit.”
“Maybe it’s a habit you need to break,” said Lucy. “Do you even like doing this kind of work?” she went on.
Shelby shook her head. “No,” she said. “It’s really boring. If Ant didn’t need me, I wouldn’t do it at all.”
“Then stop,” Lucy said.
“And do what?” said Shelby. “This is all I’ve done since I got out of school.”
Lucy glanced over at Jane and a silent word passed between them. Jane nodded.
“Come work for us,” Lucy said. “At Flyleaf. You know, until you decide what it is you really want to do.”
Shelby looked at Jane. “Really?” she said.
“She’s the manager,” said Jane. “What she says goes.”
“I don’t know,” Shelby said.
“Why?” asked Jane. “Because it’s so much fun taking care of Simple Simon over there? You need to take care of you. And believe me, when an opportunity for happiness comes along, you take it.” She patted Walter’s hand, and he wrapped his fingers around hers.
Shelby shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.” She laughed. “This is totally crazy. Ant’s going to freak.” She looked at Lucy again. “You’re really sure?”
“Ask one more time and you’re fired,” Lucy said. “Now go tell your brother he’s going to have to find someone else to
hold his stick.”
“His boom,” said Ben quickly. “She meant hold his boom.”
Shelby ran off in the direction of her brother, who was annoying several of the cast of Constance by trying to film them while they were eating. A moment later Byron appeared.
“Hello,” he said gaily. “Did you all miss me?”
“Were you gone?” Jane asked.
Byron kissed her on the cheek. Then he looked at Walter. “I suppose I’d better kiss you as well,” he said, and did. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your woman.”
“I’m not his woman,” said Jane. “Honestly, how primitive.”
Walter pulled her close. “But you are,” he said. “You’re my woman, and no one’s going to take you away from me, no matter how good-looking he is or how nice his accent is.”
“You think I’m good-looking?” Byron said, lifting an eyebrow.
“Fine,” said Jane. “I’m your woman.”
Walter kissed her neck. “And you love it,” he said.
“This reminds me,” Byron said. “Are Ted and Ned about?”
“Ned is over there,” said Lucy, nodding in the direction of the picnic tables. “He’s talking to Chloe. Actually, I think they’re more making out than talking.”
Everyone looked at the two young people, who were kissing each other and laughing, oblivious to the fact that they had an audience.
“That’s a paparazzo’s dream,” Ben remarked.
“What do you mean?” asked Jane.
“Are you kidding?” said the rabbi. “The gossip magazines would kill for a photo of Chloe kissing a guy. Ned there would be the envy of people all over the world. Everybody would want to know who he is.”
Jane, Byron, and Lucy exchanged glances. How Chloe was going to manage being a vampire and a pop star/actress was something they had yet to discuss with her. But she at least had experience with Hollywood and its ways. Ned didn’t. Jane couldn’t imagine what might happen if he suddenly found himself the center of attention. Questions would be asked. People would want to know everything about him. It could be a disaster.
“We’ll have to have a little chat with Mr. Hawthorne,” Byron whispered to Jane. “Soon.”
Jane decided not to worry about it. I’m too happy, she thought. Whatever happened with Chloe and Ned could be dealt with when it happened.
So when are you going to tell Walter about yourself? The question came to her unbidden, as if someone else had asked it. Jane tried to ignore it, but it came back like a persistent fly. When are you going to tell him?
“I don’t know!” she said.
“Don’t know what?” asked Walter.
Jane realized that she had spoken aloud and that everyone was looking at her, waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought someone asked where Sarah was.”
Walter looked at her. “No,” he said. “Anyway, we know where she is. She’s over there playing with Jasper.”
“Of course she is,” Jane said. “Would anyone like another drink?” She looked at Lucy and furrowed her brow.
“I would,” said Lucy, draining her wineglass in one long gulp.
“We’ll be right back,” said Jane as she and Lucy went into the house.
“What was that?” Lucy asked when they were safely in the kitchen.
Jane put her hand to her forehead. “I was thinking about Walter,” she explained. “How am I going to tell him?”
“Tell him?” said Lucy. “Oh,” she added a moment later. “You mean about …” She thrust her upper incisors out and made sucking sounds.
“Charming,” Jane said.
“Sorry,” said Lucy. “We watched Dracula with Sarah last night.”
“She wasn’t scared?” Jane asked.
Lucy shook her head. “She thinks monsters are neat,” she said. “I thought she was going to cry when Dracula was killed at the end.”
“What an interesting child,” said Jane. “I look forward to knowing more about her.”
“So do I,” Lucy said. “Now what about Walter? What are you going to do?” When Jane didn’t answer right away she added, “You’re not going to break up with him again, are you?”
“No,” said Jane. “At least I don’t think I am.”
“Jane!” Lucy said sternly.
“All right, I’m not,” said Jane.
“Promise,” ordered Lucy.
“I promise,” Jane said.
“Cross your heart and hope to die?” Lucy asked.
Jane made a face. “Not much chance of that, is there?”
Lucy ignored her. “Now listen to me. You are going to stay engaged to Walter. You are going to marry Walter. I am going to be your maid of honor, and if I have to, I’m going to drag you down the aisle by your feet.”
“You’re going to be my maid of honor?” Jane said.
“Oh,” Lucy said. “Did I say that? I didn’t mean to—”
“But you would be?” said Jane. “If it comes to that?”
“Are you asking me to?” Lucy said.
Jane nodded. Lucy nodded. They both burst into tears and hugged each other. “There’s so much to do,” Lucy said between happy sobs. “We need to make a list. Have you thought about flowers?”
Jane laughed. “I think we have time,” she said as she wiped her eyes. “We haven’t even set a date. Anyway, there’s still the tiny matter of my having to tell him I’m a …” She imitated Lucy’s earlier imitation of a vampire.
“More important, what kind of dress do you want?” said Lucy.
Jane hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe something with an Empire waist?”
Lucy wrinkled her nose. “We’ll look at magazines,” she said. “And don’t worry about Walter right now. We’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe I should tell Ben,” Jane suggested. “Then he can tell Walter. I imagine he’s very good at that sort of thing, being a rabbi.”
Lucy’s face brightened. “Ben can marry you!” she exclaimed.
“I think he’d probably rather marry you,” said Jane.
“I mean you and Walter,” Lucy said. “Ben can perform your ceremony.”
Jane leaned against the counter. “This is all coming together rather quickly,” she said. “This morning it was all very vague in a we’ll-get-married-one-of-these-years way. Now we’re talking about flowers and dresses and rabbis.”
“You are going to be such a bridezilla,” said Lucy.
“A what?” Jane asked.
“A nightmare,” said Lucy. “Now snap out of it. Today is supposed to be a celebration. You can fret later.”
“That’s very easy for you to say,” Jane reminded her. “Let’s see how composed you are when Ben asks for your hand.”
Lucy picked up a bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. “It’s going to be fine,” she told Jane as she handed her a glass. “Trust me. We’ll get you through this.”
Jane took the glass. Lucy lifted hers and tapped it against Jane’s. “Have I ever let you down?” she asked.
“No,” Jane said. “You haven’t.”
“And I won’t this time,” said Lucy. “Now let’s get back to the boys before Byron has glamored them both into taking their shirts off.”
Jane took a sip of wine. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind so much if he did,” she said.
“Why, you sly old cougar,” said Lucy.
Back on the deck they found Walter, Ben, and Byron talking to Miriam. Seeing her there, Jane bristled slightly. Although she and Walter’s mother had declared a truce of sorts, her presence still made Jane uncomfortable. She would be relieved when Miriam was safely on a plane back to Florida.
“Jane,” Walter said, “my mother just gave us some wonderful news.” From the tone of his voice, Jane sensed that the opposite was true.
“I’ve decided to move to Brakeston,” Miriam announced. She fixed Jane with a steely stare. “I’m tired of the heat in Florida.”
Jane forced a smile. “Tha
t’s wonderful,” she said. She embraced Miriam, feeling the woman tense beneath her touch.
“Remember, a grandchild or I stake you,” Miriam whispered.
“Walter and I will get to work on that immediately,” Jane whispered back, “Mother.” She emphasized the final word and gave Miriam a peck on the cheek.
“Well,” she said, letting go of Miriam and lifting her glass. “Let’s have a toast, shall we?”
The others, even a reluctant Miriam, raised their glasses.
“As an old friend once said to me, ‘Forever is composed of nows,’ ” Jane said. “Here’s to the many nows to come.”
They all drank. Afterward their various conversations resumed. Jane separated herself from the group and stood at the edge of the deck, thinking about her future and what it might hold. A minute later Walter walked over to her.
“That quote,” he said. “It’s from an Emily Dickinson poem, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Jane nodded. “I’d forgotten that.”
“You said it came from an old friend,” Walter continued.
Jane thought back to the lovely fall day that she and Emily had enjoyed together in Amherst. “I suppose that’s how I think of her,” she told Walter. “Isn’t that what our favorite writers become to us, old friends?”
Walter smiled. “I suppose they do,” he said. “Does that mean you and I are old friends?”
Jane took his hand. “We will be,” she said. “We will be.”
Acknowledgments
Writing a sequel to a book has been, for me, an undertaking fraught with peril. Often I have forgotten what characters look like, what they did in the previous book, and sometimes even what their names are. This admission frequently horrifies people, but it’s true. I am not a good literary parent.
Therefore it is an enormous relief to me that there are people to keep me from doing irreparable damage to my hapless creations. Chief among them are my editor, Caitlin Alexander, and my agent, Mitchell Waters. I cause them no end of worry, and they are very kind about not yelling any more than is absolutely necessary. I also owe a debt of gratitude to the copyeditors and proofreaders who caught my errors and made sure everything came out all right in the end.
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