#
"You look wonderful, Annie! Did you lose weight?" Grace Lowell asked, eyeing Annie's hips.
"Wow, you're looking terrific." Bob Haskell's eyes actually twinkled as he looked at her. "Been on vacation?"
Sarah Wentworth leaned close to Annie's ear and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I promise I won't tell a soul. Who's your surgeon?"
Annie waited until Sarah was out of range before she turned to Sweeney. "What on earth is going on around here? That's the tenth person who commented on how great I look today."
"It's called love, honey," Sweeney said with a big smile. "L-U-V, and it shows."
Annie felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "I'd rather they thought it was a facelift."
"Sorry," Sweeney said. "Nobody will believe it, not with the way you two have been looking at each other."
Annie did her best not to cast a quick glance in Sam's direction but Sweeney caught her.
"See? And he's been doing the same thing."
They had tried very hard not to make a spectacle of themselves. She had work to do promoting Annie's Flowers to anyone who stopped to smell the roses while he had done an admirable job pretending he was interested in Phyllis Riley's beadwork and the big display of corncob art that was courtesy of Marge Rhodenbarr's third grade class at Shelter Rock Elementary. Warren showed up around two o'clock. He motioned Sam over to where he stood by the display table and engaged the two of them in an animated conversation about the museum that focused even more of the town's attention on the new couple.
Claudia stopped by to use the bathroom in Annie's Flowers. She managed a hello for Annie but breezed by Warren and Sam as if they weren't there at all.
"She'll get over it," Warren said. "Tomorrow it'll be Eileen's new haircut or the way Susan is bringing up her kids. The woman isn't happy unless she has something to complain about."
Warren was right but only up to a point. Annie knew that the reasons ran much deeper and so did the hurt. Because that's what it was. Claudia wasn't angry. She was hurting and Annie knew why.
"I'll be back in a second," she said then darted into the shop as Claudia was ready to leave.
"You look lovely today," Claudia said stiffly as Annie blocked the doorway. "That sweater flatters you."
"I've been hearing that all day," she said with a self-conscious laugh. "These compliments have made me wonder how bad I've been looking lately."
A long, awkward silence rose up between them.
"I should get back to the booth," Claudia said, shifting her purse from under her right arm to under her left. "Roberta couldn't make change if her life depended on it."
Annie placed a hand on the woman's forearm. "Claudia, about last night –"
"You don't owe me any explanations, Anne. You're a grown woman. You can make your own decisions."
"I should have said something," Annie said, fumbling for the right words. "At the very least, I could have introduced you."
"Perhaps you had other things on your mind."
Annie took a deep breath. The easy social lie was on the tip of her tongue but maybe this was the time to go a little deeper. "You're right," she said. "I did have other things on my mind. I'm sorry if I hurt you. That wasn't my intention."
Claudia held her gaze for a moment, then looked out toward the village green. Annie covered her ringless left hand with her right. Sounds of laughter and music drifted through the open door along with the delectable smells of hamburgers and hot dogs sizzling on the grill.
Please, Claudia, say something. . . anything. Tell me you were angry. Tell me he's not good enough for me. If we can talk about this, we're halfway there.
They had been through so many tough times together. She hated to think that her happiness could ever drive them apart.
#
"What took you so long?" Roberta demanded when Claudia returned to the booth. "I've been doing turnaway business."
Claudia looked at her friend of almost sixty years. "Am I a bitch?" she asked.
Roberta's round face froze. "What did you say?"
"Oh, don't act like you never heard the word before, Roberta Morgan, because I know you have. I've even heard you use it once or twice."
"That may be but I've certainly never heard you use it. Not once in all these years."
"Well, you're hearing it now." She glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"
"Good heavens, Claudia, what kind of thing is that to ask?"
"It's a perfectly reasonable question. I've been doing some thinking today and I haven't liked some of the conclusions I've come up with."
"Were you watching The View again?"
"None of your business. Now are you going to answer me or not?"
Roberta looked like she would rather be any place on earth but there. "That's a terrible question. You've put me in an impossible spot."
Poor Roberta. She dithered on, never quite realizing she had answered Claudia's question.
Yes, you're a bitch, Claudia Galloway. It's official. Are you happy now?
The thought had first occurred to her when Susan told her she had always been a difficult woman to be around. It wasn't at all the way Claudia viewed herself. John, bless his heart, had always told her she was the sunshine in his life, the one person he could count on to be in his corner no matter what. They had been through their share of tough times, things she wouldn't tell a living soul about, but their love for each other had never wavered. He had thought of her as an even-tempered woman, good-natured and easy-going. Everything her children thought she wasn't. Susan would have driven right off the road laughing if Claudia had ever told her any of that and she had no doubt the rest of her children would do the same.
Like just now at the store with Annie.
Would it have hurt you to bend just a little? She was reaching out to you and you wouldn't give an inch.
It wasn't that she wanted Annie to be unhappy. What kind of woman would she be if she wished unhappiness on the girl she'd raised as one of her own? A bitch, that's what, the worst kind of bitch. Heartless and unyielding. But oh God how it hurt to think of her with a man who wasn't Kevin. In a way it was like losing him all over again.
She had never wanted another man after Jack's death. Oh, she had had plenty of offers from some of the kindly gentlemen of Shelter Rock Cove but she had spurned all of their advances. Jack was the love of her life, her only true love, and there wasn't a man on earth who could compare. She had always believed it was like that between Annie and Kevin. Kevin had worshipped Annie. The family used to tease him about the poetry and the flowers. His brothers and sisters were practical, down-to-earth types who wouldn't be caught dead knowing the difference between a couplet and a sonnet. But Kevin not only knew the difference, he wanted to tell you all about it and he did so in a way that made his words a permanent part of your heart.
Annie had glowed in those early years. The whole town had basked in that glow. KevinandAnnie. AnnieandKevin. You couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Even today you couldn't look at Annie and not see Kevin, so tall and handsome, right there by her side.
Tears welled up and she reached into her purse and retrieved her sunglasses and slipped them on. Last night, seeing Annie hand in hand with someone who wasn't Kevin – well, there was no explaining how that had felt.
Had she really been in denial all this time? It didn't seem possible but what other explanation could there be for that feeling of utter shock . Up until that moment she had been able to pretend that Kevin was in the next room, or maybe on the next block, beyond her reach but not gone. Never that. But nothing could explain away the sight of Annie, luminous and filled with joy, as she looked up at that wiry, edgy man who had walked into Cappy's with Warren.
Get a grip on yourself, Claudia, or else everyone in town will be talking about the way you fell apart during the Labor Day festivities.
That would give the town years of good gossip and she wasn't about to make
that mistake.
Next to her, Roberta was chatting away like a magpie, telling Adele Roscoe and Jean Gillooley all about the Adam Winters seminar they had taken and how they were thinking of becoming investors and Claudia all but leaped for her best friend's crepey throat.
"Now what did you go and blab to Adele and Jean for?" she demanded the second the women wandered off. "Why don't you call our children too while you're at it?"
"They saw the brochure sticking out of my tote bag," Roberta said with a mutinous look in her beady little eyes. "What was I supposed to do, lie to them?"
"Yes," Claudia snapped. "You could have told them about the seminar without blabbing our business all over town."
"Remember that question you asked me a few minutes ago? I think I can answer it now."
"Oh, hush up," Claudia said. "Why don't you just –"
Well, of all the nerve! Annie's new friend – what was his name, Sam Something or other – was heading toward their display like he had an urgent need to win a mammogram and help fund the senior center.
Roberta squinted in his direction. "Isn't that –"
"Yes," Claudia hissed, "and if you –"
"Mrs. Galloway?" He stopped right there in front of them and stuck out his right hand. "We didn't have the chance to meet last night but Warren and Annie told me a lot about you."
She knew his name was Sam Butler and she had no choice but to shake his hand. His grip was strong but not too familiar. She was glad he knew his place.
Roberta gave her a poke in her ribs.
"This is my friend Roberta Morgan," she said although why Bobbi couldn't introduce herself was beyond her.
Roberta eagerly shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I saw you last night with our Annie." She actually batted her eyelashes at the man. "I must say you make an adorable couple."
He thanked Roberta but it was clear her comment had embarrassed him.
"I heard you talking to the other two ladies about a financial seminar."
Claudia arched a brow. "You were eavesdropping?"
"Yep," he said with an easy smile. "Afraid so."
Roberta, ever oblivious to nuance, plunged right in. "I have an extra brochure if you'd like it."
He flashed a big toothpaste commercial smile at her foolish friend who all but swooned. "I wouldn't mind taking a look at it."
Roberta whipped out the brochure and handed it to him. "You can keep it if you like."
He wasn't listening. He flipped through the pages, eyes scanning the columns of text like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. She and Roberta exchanged looks.
So handsome! Roberta's look said. And so interested in finance.
He's just looking at the pictures, Claudia's own look retorted. There was something scruffy about him, even though his clothes were clean and relatively stylish. But then didn't they all wear jeans and sweaters these days, as if someone somewhere had decreed everyone under fifty must wear the uniform or be drummed out of their generation. Just a touch of carelessness that some women found very attractive. From the foolish look on Roberta's face, it was clear that she was one of them but not Claudia. She had always loved the way her Jack had looked in a suit and tie, so proper and distinguished and above reproach. Kevin hadn't been quite so formal but he had always been perfectly turned out in tweed sport coats and fine cords that befitted his position as a teacher.
" . . . we went to his seminar the other day," Roberta was saying. "In fact we're –"
"Bobbi," Claudia interrupted her friend, "we need some more of the sign-up sheets. Would you see if you can find Dr. Markowitz and ask her if she has any she could spare?"
"In a minute," Roberta said, glaring at Claudia. She turned back to Sam Butler. "He offers a –"
"Roberta." Claudia employed the same tone of voice she used to use when her teenagers came home after curfew. "We need them now."
Roberta smiled at Annie's friend. "Why don't you keep one of those brochures," she said amiably. "I never knew money could be so much fun until I started listening to Adam Winters on the radio!"
From the look on this Sam Butler's face, Claudia knew she had to say something . After the unpleasant response from Susan and Annie the other night, she intended to keep her further workshop plans to herself.
"Roberta is very enthusiastic," she offered, a bit discomfited by the look of curiosity in his eyes. "We took a class in Japanese flower arranging and by the time it was over she was ready to become a Zen master."
He laughed which was exactly what she had hoped he would do. His rough edges weren't quite as rough as she'd first thought.
"One of my sisters is the same way," he said in what was really a very friendly tone of voice for a New Yorker. "She took three classes in oil painting and was ready to move to Paris and live in a garret."
She smiled despite herself. "I have two shelves filled with my experiments in pottery. I tried to bribe my children but even they won't touch them."
It was clear to Claudia that he was sizing her up in much the same way she was sizing him up and she wondered what family stories Annie might have shared with this stranger, stories that maybe Claudia herself knew nothing about.
You may not last, she thought as she smiled at him. You might be nothing more than a fling.
But there was something in the way he looked across the green at Annie that told her she was dead wrong.
Chapter Fourteen
"You're right," Ellen said to Hall as another wave of visitors drifted away from their booth. "He does look familiar."
"I know," he said as they watched Sam Butler attempt to charm Claudia Galloway. "Maybe he did some repairs on one of my boats."
Ellen groaned and hit him in the arm with a rolled up mammogram fact sheet. "And since I've never stepped foot on one of your boats, how would that make him look familiar to me."
He blinked at her in surprise. "You've been on the sloop."
"Afraid not, Cap'n."
"The small sailboat."
"Nope."
"The kayak I keep up at the cabin."
"Not even close."
He looked at her. "We're going to have to remedy that, Markowitz."
She ignored him. "Do you really think he worked on one of your boats?"
"No," Hall said, "but it's the best I can come up with. The guy's from New York and I'm down there once every two years if I'm lucky. It doesn't seem likely our paths would've crossed, does it?"
Her eyes widened. "He's from New York?"
"His accent's worse than yours," he said, ducking a paper clip tossed in his direction.
"Did you know I can peg a New Yorker to within two blocks of his last apartment?" She pushed her unruly mop of red hair off her face. "I can almost tell you what floor you lived on."
"Ten bucks says you can't even name the borough."
She threw back her head and laughed. "You're on, Doctor. Easiest ten bucks I'll make this year."
#
Adam Winters had put together a first rate, four-color, glossy pile of bullshit designed to romance the bucks out of retirement plans up and down the East Coast. He plastered his boyish face on the cover – big guileless smile, shock of hair flopping over his unlined forehead – in an attempt to charm his 60-something, female audience into believing he was no more threatening than one of their own children. He was the son who came to dinner every Sunday, the one who brought flowers and a box of candy and telephoned every morning to see how you were.
The dream son who did all that and tripled your investment before the first year was out.
Sam knew the technique. He'd seen the way it worked a thousand times during his years on the Street. He'd employed a few of the tricks himself on more than one occasion, There was nothing innovative about anything he'd read in the text, no guarantees that you would end up with more money than you'd started with. Winters fished familiar waters. Listen to me and you won't end up in one of those nursing homes that stink of urine and decay. I'll show you how you c
an protect yourself.
They were all scared. You couldn't grow old in this country and not be. You wanted to make sure your time ran out before your money did and many a fortune had been made by capitalizing on those fears.
He could tell Claudia some of these things but she wouldn't believe him. Didn't you earn your living the same way? she would ask. Why is this so different?
And he wouldn't be able to answer because he was every bit as guilty as Adam Waters and all the other half-baked scam artists who had come along in the last hundred years.
It wasn't a legacy he was proud of.
A tall skinny woman with a curly mop of red hair appeared at Sam's right elbow.
"Dr. Markowitz," Claudia said with a friendly smile. "How are you enjoying your first Labor Day picnic in Shelter Rock Cove?"
"Please call me Ellen," she said with a smile for both of them. "We can save the 'Dr. Markowitz' for the lady with the stethoscope."
"Sam Butler," he said, extending his hand. No point to waiting for Claudia to introduce them.
"Queens," she said, tilting her head to the right. "Somewhere around Bayside."
He nodded. "Not bad. Bayside it is."
She smiled at him but there was nothing flirtatious about it. "It was either Queens or western Suffolk County."
"Manhattan," he guessed. "Upper West Side near Columbus Circle."
"Guilty as charged. What gave me away?"
"Nothing," he said. "It was the first place I could think of."
She laughed and even Claudia joined in.
"I was just saying to Hall that you look familiar," she said. "Have we met before?"
He shook his head. "I didn't spend too much time around Columbus Circle."
"You must have one of those faces," she said. "I'll bet you hear that all the time."
He didn't but he let it pass. Ellen Markowitz seemed like a nice enough woman even if she did have an ulterior motive. Sam had noticed her talking earnestly with the Good Doctor Talbot and Annie had told him they were partners in an ob-gyn practice. Talbot had probably sent her over here on some sort of half-baked reconnaissance mission.
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