“And what about you?” Melody asked Isobel.
“No one here gives a shit.”
“You’re not nice, are you?” Melody asked.
“I’m nice,” Isobel said. “I’m very nice.”
“You’re Josef’s kids, right?”
“Yes,” Florence said. “I’m Florence, as you know, and this is Isobel.” Florence put out her hand and Melody shook it.
“Don’t act too much like him, okay?” Melody said. “That’s my advice to both of you. He’s a real a-s-s-h-o-l-e.”
“He’s under a lot of pressure right now,” Florence said.
“Sure he is. Okay. Listen up. I need your help. Both of you.”
“Anything!” Florence said.
Isobel shrugged.
“You.” Melody pointed to Isobel. “Get me that coffee. I need it bad.”
“Sure, whatever.”
“And me?” Florence asked.
Melody pulled her by the shoulder away from Charlie and Armie. “You go back inside and find that hot little Chinese girl, the one your uncle keeps going mushy over, and get her out here.”
When Florence returned with Audrey and Ying, Melody made an elaborate display of saying hello and talking about the wild adventure they’d had at the bar the night before, which, she pointed out, felt like a year ago, didn’t it? Melody—quite conspicuously, Charlie thought—grabbed Armie by the arm and pulled him close so they were all standing in a lopsided circle with Abbott and Dustin frolicking in the background and Ying pointing out that Armie’s pant legs were “very high.”
Melody nudged Armie. “Don’t you agree?” she asked him. “Last night was pretty wild, right?”
“Yeah, uh, definitely,” Armie said. He kept his eyes fixed on the wood planks.
“The food’s really good,” Audrey said.
“I haven’t eaten anything,” Armie said.
“Me either,” Melody said.
Isobel huffed.
Florence clutched her signed book to her chest and, having conquered one fear, focused on the next challenge ahead of her: reading the letter.
Charlie felt better with everyone around, and the tickling desire for an Enabletal ebbed, if only slightly.
* * *
Melody was so proud of her work that when she checked her phone and saw that Patrick had texted eight times in the last hour and that one of the texts had mentioned “NY” and “police,” she didn’t think much of it and in fact turned her phone off.
* * *
They gathered in the living room. The overflow spilled into the foyer and the dining room and some even gathered in the study, where Arthur McCreary was gathering his thoughts on the Magritte, and double-checking his analysis and making phone calls, hoping perhaps that he was wrong but positive he was right. The Tom Waits was turned low and Ana stood before the fireplace and addressed the friends and family who had known and loved George Percy Westfall in life and had come together to say goodbye to him. The gold-and-white kanga looked lovely, Charlie thought, and the sadness in her mother’s face was somehow lovely as well, it suited her as perhaps it should suit a wife recently bereft of her husband. Her mother looked beautiful. Sad and beautiful and strong.
* * *
Officer Russell Garrett was out in the squad car waiting for his partner, Bill Brownell, to finish taking a dump back at the precinct. The radio went off and dispatch said they wanted someone to head over to a house where a missing person potentially might be located. Officer Russell Garrett grabbed the horn. “Whose house?”
“Westfall,” dispatch said.
“We’ll take it.” It was just down the block.
Brownell got back in the cruiser. “What’s the scoop?”
“Call about that missing movie star. She might be down the block at the Westfall place.”
“The antiques people? The ones we saw last night?”
“Looks that way. Let’s go have a look.” Officer Russell Garrett swung the cruiser around. He’d only two months ago finalized his divorce from Denise “The Piece” Hendon—whom he’d married right after receiving his associate’s degree in criminal justice from Westchester Community College and returning to Hudson to follow his father into the world of law enforcement. He swung the cruiser around and glided out onto Warren Street.
“Charlotte Westfall,” he said.
“I was like four years behind you,” Brownell said. “Was she that hot back in the day?”
“She most certainly was,” Russell Garrett said.
* * *
Audrey Tan heard the knock at the front door. No one else seemed to hear it, so she opened it, thinking some latecomers had arrived. It was two Hudson PD officers.
“Hi there, ma’am,” the taller of the two said. “We’re going door-to-door looking for a missing person. We’d like to ask a few questions. May we come in?”
“It’s kind of a funeral,” Audrey said.
“We’re sorry to interrupt. We’ll just be a moment. We’d like to speak to Charlotte Westfall, if she’s here.”
“She is. Her father died, you know?”
“We’re aware. Our condolences.”
“Well, it’s so nice of you to come pay your respects,” Audrey said. “Charlie will be happy.”
They went to the middle of the foyer and stood with their arms crossed.
Josef had a strange look on his face and Rey coughed loudly into his fist. The cousins from Florida gave each other the inquisitive eye. Clearly everyone saw, or rather was seeing, that there were cops in the room. Everyone except Ana, who was delivering her rambling eulogy.
“I know he isn’t alone out there. I know it sounds clichéd or naïve but I feel like he’s here, with us now, and that he thinks this is just great and he thinks that all of you are just great . . .” She trailed off. Melody was beside her, taking her sunglasses off. The floppy hat stayed on. She pushed some strands of blond wig hair out of her eyes and began to speak.
“I knew George well,” she said.
Josef spotted the two cops looking right at him. He panicked. Had Armie ratted him out? That was absurd. His brother, no matter how angry, would never do that, plus, what would they get him for? Model rocket theft? Oh, yeah, breaking and entering. Fuck. So maybe they’d come for him. Fuck it. Would they arrest him at his father’s memorial? Surely he got some sort of clemency given the circumstances? Or, better yet, that would be his defense! A temporary, grief-induced lapse of judgment. Everyone got a free pass in such a situation. But it didn’t matter because he was (kind of) sure they weren’t there for him anyway. Then he saw Melody (and was she eulogizing his father?) and sort of connected all the dots.
“George meant so many things to so many of us,” Melody said. “He was a father. He was a brother. A grandfather. A shrewd businessman. He was always the center of attention at any party, and I remember many Thanksgiving dinners where everyone at the table was enthralled by his amazing stories.”
Charlie turned to look back at her brother and Josef gave her a look like, What the fuck? and mouthed, Stories? Charlie stifled a laugh. She wasn’t sure if she should put a stop to Melody’s “eulogy” or let it go on.
“I know it’s corny,” Melody ventured, “but I wanted to say a few words written by someone else.” She paused and did a sort of collecting-herself-getting-into-character-actor thing before beginning: “ ‘Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, / Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, / Silence the pianos and with muffled drum / Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. / Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead / Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.’ ”
It was quiet in the house. Some sniffles sounded between the pauses in her cadence. Charlie had to admit, Melody was good. There was a reason she was a movie star. Melody kept going.
“ ‘Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, / Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. / He was my North, my South, my East and West, / My working week and my Sunday r
est, / My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; / I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.’ ”
The cops at the back of the room shifted from one foot to the other.
“ ‘The stars are not wanted now: put out every one, / Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, / Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; / For nothing now can ever come to any good.’ ”
Even Abbott and Dustin stood motionless, which Charlie had to admit was weird. As people realized Melody was done speaking, they all began to clap. The cops clapped too. Officer Russell Garrett was enthusiastic in his ovation.
“Too loud!” Abbott said, clamping his hands over his ears and running into the kitchen. Dustin followed him.
Florence went right up to Melody. “That was so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Melody said.
Charlie gave Melody a tight hug. “You know W. H. Auden?”
“Who?” Melody said. “Oh, no, that’s Four Weddings and a Funeral.”
“Aunt Charlie,” Florence said, “do you think I can read my letter now?”
“Of course you can.”
The room grew quiet and Charlie announced that Florence, George’s granddaughter, wanted to say a few words.
Florence took the letter out of the spine of Thornglow. Her hands shook but not as much as she had thought they would. She stood in front of her aunt and next to her grandmother.
“ ‘Dear Grandpa. So much has happened this year. And I know you always want to know what I’m doing and what Isobel is doing and I’m sad I can’t tell you about it. I wrote you this letter to tell you some things you might want to know. I started seventh grade and it’s weird because it’s not high school yet and it’s not elementary school anymore but in the middle. I’m young for my grade they said but I get lots of B’s, and some A’s, which is good, but I can do better. I went to Europe this summer, to Paris and Rome, with my mom and my sister and my mom’s boyfriend, Andy. Andy’s nice and funny, but not as funny as my dad. I have lots of friends and for now I seem to have a little spot in the world and that is good. I started taking singing lessons and my friends and I sing our own version of the song ‘One Day’ by Matisyahu and I think we do it pretty good and we want to do it maybe at the talent show this year? I want to start taking ukulele lessons because I think it would be cool to play the ukulele. I’m on the swim team now and we practice three times a week, which sometimes seems like a lot because I have to use so much conditioner to get my hair soft again. Isobel is lucky she has such soft, pretty hair. I get sad sometimes, too. I know you were very sick and it hurt a lot and that I should be happy that you aren’t hurting anymore but I miss you lots already. I like New York City but it’s loud and sometimes smells bad even though I like how dirty it is most of the time. I always liked coming to your house to get away and see you and Grandma and eat all of the good food you always have and see the new furniture and stuff you liked to show me. I love all of the couches at the store. I can never pick which is my favorite. I hope that I can still come and stay here. I hope that everyone can be happy even with you gone. I hope that doesn’t sound mean or make you angry, I just want everyone to be happy. I don’t think that’s selfish. I love you, Grandpa. Sincerely, Florence.’ ”
She stopped and folded the letter and tucked it into the book and stepped back. Charlie leaned down and kissed her on her cheek.
“Don’t cry, sweetie,” she said. “That was beautiful.”
* * *
While his niece spoke, Armie felt a light touch at his elbow and looked down to see Audrey’s hand there and something told him she wanted him to take her hand, so he did. Ying teetered nearby with her eyes closed, making it hard to determine whether she was awake or not. Either status precluded her paying attention.
When it was over, everyone clapped for Florence and wiped at their moist, red eyes. Father Chuk came up to Armie to inquire how he was doing.
“A bit overwhelmed,” Armie said.
“It’s to be expected,” Father Chuk said.
Melody popped her head in. “It’s so nice out,” she said. “The two of you should go for a walk!”
“That would be nice,” Audrey said.
“Don’t I have to stay here?” Armie asked.
“I think a walk would be good indeed.” Father Chuk directed a finger to his temple. “Clear the head.”
Rey squeezed between them on his way to the foyer. “Have you seen Charlie?” he asked.
“Who’s this?” Ying said, opening her eyes.
“Who are you?” Rey asked.
“I’m Ying!”
“I think she went to the kitchen?” Audrey said.
“Thanks.”
* * *
Josef did not love much, but he loved his daughters and he had been moved, genuinely, by the letter Florence had written for his father. Hearing it had made him cry, he couldn’t help it, and as he retreated across the living room to find somewhere more private to weep, he ran headlong into Marc Crawford. Victoria or whatever her name was stood right beside him with an innocuous smile-stare.
“Hey, pal! Where’s the fire?”
“There’s no fire,” Josef said, wiping his eyes.
“Listen,” Crawford said. “Can we chat a sec?”
“I need to find my wife,” Josef said.
“Ex-wife, you mean?”
“Yeah, yeah, her.”
“What happened to your face, by the way?”
“I hit it on the medicine cabinet—”
“It looks like you got punched—”
“I didn’t get punched. I’m fine. I need to find my wife—”
“Ex—”
Josef leaned in. “Keep this between you and me, but I think we’re getting back together.”
“Hey!” Crawford said. “Congratulations! That is amazing news. I don’t want to keep you. What I have to say will just take a minute. Can we go somewhere?”
“But be quick.”
“Lead the way.”
Josef had no idea where in the house to go, and he was coincidentally standing right next to the basement door, so he opened it and gestured for Crawford to descend. “Step into my office.”
Josef yanked the pull string for the light. He directed Crawford to follow him to the woodshop.
“I’ve made deals in stranger places,” Crawford said.
“What’s up?”
“I’ll get right to it, no point wasting anyone’s time, am I right? I want to buy the company.”
“Buy?”
“Yup. The whole thing. The name, the software, the office, your programmers. All of it.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Everything’s for sale. I’ll give you three.”
“I need at least five.”
Crawford nodded. “I thought that’s what you’d say. And I’m prepared to go that high.”
“What about the merge?”
“No merge. This is the deal. This is the only deal.”
“So I either take this or we go head-to-head?”
“You don’t stand a chance out there on your own, pal.”
“Then why buy?”
“Because I want my cake and I want to eat it too. I take what I like about One-PASS, fold it into my platform, and put your guys to work.”
“Roger and Ellis?”
“I like what they’ve done. They’re your secret weapons. And from what I hear from my little fairies, they’d love a paycheck about now.”
“And Ariel?”
“Who’s Ariel?”
“My secretary. You’d have to offer her a position.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“It’s not negotiable.”
Crawford cocked his head and appeared to notice all the piles of wood for the first time. “Someone building Noah’s Ark?”
“My little brother thinks he’s a carpenter.”
Crawford pointed at the model rocket. “Looks like he’s a real hobby enthusiast.”
�
��That’s mine.”
“You play with toy rockets?”
“Maybe. You gotta problem with that?”
Crawford raised surrender hands. “Everyone needs hobbies.”
“Are we about done here? I need to find my wife.”
“Ex-wife.”
“Yes, my ex-wife, thank you for reminding me. Again.”
“Think about my offer? It won’t be on the table long.”
Josef pulled the chain and the light went out.
* * *
Charlie considered it a miracle of the first order that the cops left without arresting Melody or anyone else.
“You look really lovely,” Officer Russell Garrett said. “That’s probably inappropriate to say at a time like this, huh?”
Charlie blushed and did a little-girl turn of the head in shyness. “I don’t mind,” she said.
“I am really sorry about George. You know, when I got married—I’m divorced now—but when I got married, Denise, my ex, and I, we bought most of our furniture at your parents’ store.”
“Is that right?” Charlie asked.
“Your dad really knew his stuff,” Russell Garrett said.
“Thank you,” Charlie said. “It means a lot.”
Russell gestured at her wedding ring. “You’re happily married, I see.”
“Unfortunately,” she said. “Just kidding. Yes. I am. I have a son. Abbott, he’s”—she looked around the living room—“somewhere.”
Charlie looked sideways at Melody. If Melody was nervous, she wasn’t showing it. It was as though she had fully inhabited whatever role she’d assumed when Ana faltered and she picked up the eulogy reins, and she’d just gone with it. Charlie, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck and her palms were clammy and she rocked her head back and forth ever so slightly, wanting to pop an Enabletal, which she was just positive would fix everything.
“So,” Officer Russell Garrett said, “this is my partner, Bill.”
Officer Bill raised a hand. “Hi,” he said.
“We really apologize, again, for barging in this way at such a delicate and awkward time, but we have some questions.”
“You do?” Charlie asked.
“Well, the department got a few calls recently. And a couple cell phone pics. But they’re pretty blurry. About a certain AWOL celebrity possibly hiding out in Hudson.” He laughed. “It sounds crazy, I know, but, well, people said they saw this particular celebrity at the Iron Horse last night.”
The Antiques Page 23
