by Meg Muldoon
The things that haunt you and cause you to beg for a second chance.
I pounded again on the door, yelling so loud, my vocal chords constricted with pain.
“Help!”
Silence.
The smell of the gas was making me sick to my stomach. What was Lilliana waiting for? Was she out there somewhere, waiting for the place to fill up with more gas before tossing in the lighter?
Fat tears that had been building up in my eyes since Lilliana left finally proved to be too much. They came running loose, streaming down my face like small rivers.
It was over.
I was going to die here in this pantry.
Having never said the things I needed to say to the people I needed to say them to.
I slumped down, my back against the wall.
I wiped the tears away from my face.
I should have, in no uncertain terms, told Eddie the truth.
That I…
I broke down, weeping.
I was going to die. I was going to die. I was going to—
Then I lifted my head.
Was that…?
No. It was just the wind. Just the sound of the—
And then I heard it.
Loud and clear.
“Ginger?”
A voice in the darkness.
His voice.
Chapter 59
I wondered if I had already died in the explosion.
I leaned forward, listening hard.
Wondering if I was imagining things.
But then, it came again.
“Ging?! Are you in here?”
“Eddie!” I cried back. “Eddie, I’m locked in the pantry. Turn off the gas first. And open the windows!”
In the darkness, I heard footsteps and the sound of the stove handles clicking. Hinges squeaked. A cold draft blew under the pantry door.
A moment later, I saw his ocean blues looking back at me through the barred window of the pantry door.
Eddie unlocked the door, grabbed my hand, and we ran out of the café as fast as we could.
Chapter 60
It had been a long night.
I watched from the widow’s walk of the old Victorian as the sun’s rays showered the Pacific in a shimmering glow.
You wouldn’t know by looking at the ocean this morning that Broomfield Bay had been struck by one of the most violent storms to come barreling through our fair town in recent memory.
But then again, you wouldn’t know by looking at me this morning, either, that I’d been steps away from death the night before. Trapped in a pantry, waiting for everything to go up in flames.
Or about any of the other things that had happened.
Lilliana Marsh trying to blow up my café, right after confessing to me that she murdered the mayor.
Eddie coming back and saving me.
Maddy and the police rushing in and finding Lilliana out cold in the dining room.
Looking at the peaceful day dawning on Broomfield Bay, it felt as if all of it had just been a dream. Or rather, a nightmare. As if none of it could possibly be real on a day this pretty and clear and honest.
“Did you get any sleep?”
I smiled as his voice drifted out toward me on the widow’s walk.
He stood there in the doorway, holding two mugs, his eyes shining in the early morning sun.
“A little sleep,” I said. “You?”
He walked out, handing me one of the mugs.
“Me too.”
He took a seat next to me.
The coffee was good. It was hot and strong and felt comforting going down.
“Seems like it’s going to be a nice day,” Eddie said, gazing out at the waves. “Like one of those summer days I remember from when we were kids. With those fresh winds that come in off the ocean—”
“Why’d you come back last night, Eddie?” I said, interrupting him.
We didn’t get a chance to talk about it the night before, but I’d been wondering since I woke up.
“To tell you the truth, Ging, I don’t know,” he said. “I was halfway to Portland, and something just told me I needed to drive back here and find you fast. That something was really wrong. I was just lucky I didn’t get pulled over. I was flying down the highway like a bat out of hell.”
I smiled.
“I had that same feeling once before,” he added. “That I needed to get back here. Only I ignored it that time.”
“When was that?”
He paused.
“That day I left for college,” he finally said. “Remember? I called here, but you were out. Aunt Viv wished me luck. But when I hung up, it didn’t feel right. I had this feeling that I just needed to see you. But something in me… my ego, I guess, said I had to move on. That I needed to start a new life. And it was clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
I flinched.
He let out a small sigh.
“So when I got that same feeling last night, I wasn’t about to ignore it again. And somehow I knew you were at the café.”
I thought of those desperate spells I’d been chanting in the pantry. I wondered if that had something to do with Eddie coming back.
Or maybe, it was something else.
“Thank God you came back, Eddie,” I said. “If you hadn’t gotten here when you did, then I don’t know what…”
I trailed off.
He looked over, meeting my eyes.
“Let’s not think about that,” he said. “The what ifs of life can drive a person crazy.”
I bit my lip.
I knew that first-hand.
And so did he, I realized.
“A couple of things still don’t make sense to me,” Eddie said, after a while. “I don’t understand what happened to Lilliana Marsh. I mean, I know she came to the café, looking for you and to tie up loose ends with the book she forgot. You said that she came in, locked you in the pantry, and turned on the gas, right? And then she headed out?”
I nodded.
“So how did she end up beaten to within an inch of her life out in the dining room? I mean, you should have seen her face, Ging. Someone really did a number on her.”
A couple of seagulls sailed across the shore below, skimming the foamy surf.
“Who could have done that to her?” Eddie continued. “And whoever it was, why didn’t they hear you in the pantry? Why didn’t they help you?”
The police had been equally puzzled. They had questioned Eddie and me about Lilliana’s assault. Though Penelope’s murderess was still alive when they found her, she was badly injured. She had a broken leg, and I overheard one of the cops saying that she looked as though someone had beaten her with a baseball bat.
But in all the commotion none of the police officers seemed to notice the old, small broom leaning against the bakery display case out in the dining room, close to where they’d found Lilliana.
Things became a little clearer when Lilliana came to, but not much. She began screaming that all she wanted to do was to “get the hell out of this evil café,” and that she would gladly confess to Penelope Ashby’s murder, as well as her husband’s murder in Seattle, if only the paramedics would take her away.
“I just can’t figure it out,” Eddie said, scratching the stubble on his chin.
I considered telling Eddie about Sherwood. But in the end, I decided not to.
Some secrets are best kept that way.
“Yeah, it’s all very strange,” I said.
“The other thing I don’t get is why Lilliana broke into the Victorian and vandalized it. I mean, what was she looking for? What was there to gain?”
That one I honestly didn’t know the answer to. But then again, maybe trying to figure out the logistical reasoning of a psychopath was a fool’s errand.
I shrugged.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maddy thought that maybe Lilliana was trying to scare me somehow. To get me to stop looking further into Mayor Ashby’s mu
rder, or something.”
That’s what she’d said anyway, before she fell asleep.
As soon as Eddie had called her to let her know about what had happened, Maddy rushed over to the café. She felt horrible for having left me, even though I assured her she couldn’t have known what was going to happen later in the evening. She spent the night in Aunt Viv’s room again, refusing to leave, even though I told her I was fine.
“Maybe we’ll never know what really happened,” I said. “And maybe that’s okay.”
He looked over at me with questioning eyes.
“All I know is that I’m lucky that you came back, Eddie. And that after all this time, I think everything is finally going to be alright.”
He held my stare for a while.
I was about to say it. About to tell him what that time trapped in the pantry, facing my own demise, had made clear.
Then his phone buzzed.
He pulled his cell from his pocket. He stared at the screen, not answering.
“Your editor?” I asked.
He smiled.
“She’s not too happy that I left her hanging last night. I totally blew the story she assigned me.”
He didn’t seem too concerned.
He put the phone back in his pocket.
“Maybe as an apology, I could bring her a basket of baked goods from a special little café on the coast?”
“I think I might be able to help you out with that.”
I smiled, but then a chill rushed through me.
I’d been pretending something all morning.
I’d been pretending that Eddie was going to stay in Broomfield Bay, that he didn’t have responsibilities or a job or a life back in Portland.
I’d been pretending that there wasn’t a clock ticking on our time together.
Chapter 61
I handed him the thermos of freshly brewed coffee and a bag of Gingersnap Blondies – his favorite – and walked him out to the porch of the old Victorian.
The gift basket I’d put together, full of ribbons and purple cellophane, was now in the backseat of his car, looking like a career-saving gesture to me. I just hoped Eddie’s editor would think so too. She was angry about the important story Eddie missed covering the night before. She’d even taken the Ashby murder scandal story away from Eddie because of it, opting to send another reporter here to cover the recent Lilliana Marsh developments instead. Meanwhile Eddie had been called back to Portland, and it sounded like he was in for some serious scolding.
He didn’t seem all that worried about any of it, though.
The June sun was beaming brightly, and there was a soft breeze blowing in off the ocean. A sweet, warm breeze that I recognized as an old friend.
The kind of breeze that brought with it true love.
Only right now, it was taking mine away from me.
“You have everything?” I asked.
He nodded.
“You know, if you left anything, I can always send it,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m not worried,” he said.
I took in a deep breath.
Here we were. At this moment. The one we’d both been waiting on for 15 years.
I gathered up my courage.
“Eddie?”
He gazed back at me.
“It was my fault,” I said. “That’s why I stopped talking to you. That’s why I didn’t say goodbye the day you went off to college.”
My throat felt like I’d swallowed a mug of sand.
“I didn’t mean for the accident to happen,” I continued. “But when you told me that you were going to Boston, I was devastated. And then some part of me got angry. Angry because I was crazy about you, and you were leaving me. The feeling came on so suddenly and so strong, I couldn’t control it. You always made me feel too much. You always have. And before I could do anything, it was all around us. And the feeling infected you, Eddie. That’s why you put your fist through the window. That’s why…”
I trailed off.
I couldn’t even look at him. I was so afraid of the blame and judgement that had to be in his eyes right now.
“I ruined your life that day. I’ve never been able to forgive myself for it.”
I looked down.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
I swallowed hard.
I’d said it. No matter what happened next. No matter if he left here and never spoke to me again. No matter if this was the last time I ever saw him.
I’d said what was needed to be said.
Eddie didn’t respond.
Maybe he wouldn’t ever forgive me for ruining his life. Maybe he’d hate me. Maybe—
He reached over, lifting my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“Ging…”
I looked at him.
“You know that woman in my dream? The one I told you about who’s always running away from me on the sinking ship?”
I nodded.
“I lied about not knowing who she was. She’s always the same in every dream. It’s…”
There was pain in his expression.
“It’s always you. You’re the one I’m always chasing. You’re the one running away from me.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat.
“You don’t…”
I trailed off.
“You don’t hate me?”
“It was an accident,” he said. “I came to terms with that a long time ago. And I don’t believe in living with regret. There’s only one thing I’ve ever regretted. And it wasn’t losing out on the baseball scholarship.”
It felt as though a massive weight – one that I’d been dragging around with me since the day of the accident – suddenly lifted.
“My only regret, in my whole life, has been losing you, Ginger.”
He gazed deep into my eyes.
“I know things are complicated now, and I’m not going to make it any harder. All I’m going to tell you is that it’s you. It’s always been you, and it’s always going to be you. We belong together.”
“Eddie, I—”
He reached for my hand.
“I’m coming back soon. I want you to know that. And when I’m here again, you can give me an answer.”
I was quiet.
“Take care of yourself. And tell Aunt Viv I look forward to seeing her soon, too.”
“Take care of yourself, too, Eddie,” I whispered.
He lingered for a while, just looking at me. And then smiled. That million dollar one that sparked a fire deep within my soul.
Then he headed to his car parked in the driveway.
I flashed on the night before in the pantry, thinking about all the regrets of my life.
The things I should have said to certain people, but didn’t.
The things I should have done, but didn’t.
All those words left unspoken. The ones that haunted me.
Eddie opened the door to his car.
I couldn’t live as a haunted soul anymore.
Not when I had a second chance.
“Eddie!”
I ran down the cracked, paint-peeling stairs.
He turned around, surprise in his eyes.
“It’s always been you, too.”
He dropped the thermos and wrapped me in his arms, kissing me with all the fire and passion and longing in his soul.
The soft, gentle, magical winds of June just kept blowing.
Chapter 62
Early the next morning I stood outside Fabulous Floral and timidly knocked on the glass door.
The day so far had been about as normal as rosemary thriving in a salty wind – and after all that had happened this last week, that was just the way I liked it. An easy, breezy morning of baking and tending to the greenhouse had seemed like an impossible dream only a short time ago. And to be able to do it again – to water the herbs, to mix a batch of ginger chocolate brownies, to talk to Sapphire and Héctor, even to do a load of dis
hes… was pure bliss.
The only thing that had been unusual about the morning was the fact that instead of Dr. Honeycutt’s words of half-baked wisdom echoing throughout the kitchen, I’d had the television on with the morning news instead.
The Lilliana Marsh scandal was mouthwatering stuff.
Lilliana’s motives were juicier than an August peach. The fact that she’d murdered the mayor over a man, and not just any man either – over millionaire romance author Nigel Parks – was the kind of news reporters killed for. Penelope’s death had gone from being a small town scandal to a national one, with the media milking it for all it was worth.
The part about how the local police had completely bungled the initial investigation made for good news, too. There were talks that Broomfield Bay Police Chief Henry Logan was going to step down, which I knew could only mean good things for Maddy. The fact that she’d been adamant that the cops hadn’t investigated Mayor Ashby’s murder thoroughly hadn’t gone unnoticed, and it looked like my best friend might even be getting a serious promotion from all of this.
I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.
The reporters had been hounding me as well, looking to find out how I managed to stop Lilliana Marsh from getting away on that stormy night. But I’d kept my cell phone on silent, and so far, Héctor had been keeping them all at bay. Besides, if they asked, I wouldn’t even really have an answer for how Lilliana had been apprehended. The truth – that an old wooden broom had stopped her from getting away with murder – would have been unbelievable.
Throughout the morning, I’d stolen more than a few glances at Sherwood, who had returned to his usual resting place in the back of the kitchen. As always, he was mum, even when I spoke out loud. But I could sense a feeling coming from the old broom. The agitation was gone, and I sensed contentment and peace emanating from him. As if all was right with the world again.
Good ol’ Sherwood.
Perhaps I would never know the mysteries of that broom. But I did know one thing for sure.
He was a force for good. And above all else, I knew that he was on my side.
Before leaving the café to talk to Christopher, I’d gone over and for the first time ever, picked up that old heap of wood and straw, and gave him a kiss.
