When I got to my room I called Nate and then Dale, but neither answered. I checked my emails, then pulled up LBH’s blog. Not surprisingly, there was nothing new. One by one I reread her previous posts. They felt different now that I could put a face to them.
At six thirty I went downstairs. The dining room was the most crowded I’d seen it since I’d arrived. I’d gotten used to just walking in at my convenience and forgotten that the restaurant was open to the public and I might need reservations, especially on a Friday night a week before Christmas. Claudia was still at the front desk.
“How was your massage?” she asked.
“Perfect. In fact, I’m taking Lynette to dinner tonight.”
She smiled. “That did go well.”
“I was planning on bringing her here for dinner, but it looks like you’re already full. Do you have any openings?”
“We always have openings for our inn guests,” she said. “There’s a private party here tonight, but we can seat you in Truffle Hollow, if that’s okay.”
“That would be fine. Thank you.”
Lynette lived on the north side of Midway in an older, fairly large home, a long, white, stucco-walled rambler. The street in front of her home was lined with trees, and as I pulled into her driveway I could see a horse stall and corral in her backyard. There was also a picturesque red barn about fifty yards behind the house. The home was decorated for the holidays with colorful lights outlining its frame. There was also a large, snow-shrouded plastic Nativity scene in the center of the yard. The bulbs of the four electric porch lights had been replaced with red and green bulbs for the season.
I rang the doorbell and Lynette promptly answered. She was wearing a form-fitting burgundy sequin dress with a wide gold belt that accentuated the narrow curvature of her waist. She looked stunning.
“Hi, come in,” she said.
“Thank you.” I stepped inside. The front room was also decorated for the season. There was an upright piano in the center of the room with plaster figurines of Christmas carolers arranged on the top. The fireplace had pink angel hair stretched along its mantel. Above the fireplace was a Thomas Kinkade print of a snow-covered gazebo next to an icy pond.
To the right of the fireplace was a tall, white-frosted Christmas tree hung with metallic blue baubles and white lights.
“Did you have any trouble finding me?” Lynette asked.
I almost burst out laughing. In light of what I’d been through in the last week, the question was funny. “Not at all,” I said.
“Good. I’ll just get my coat.”
She returned wearing a full-length black wool coat that fell to her ankles.
“You look very nice,” I said.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.”
I opened the car door for her. As I climbed in she said, “This is a rental?”
“Yes.”
“Is it good in the snow?”
“It’s good, I’m not.”
She smiled. “I’m excited about dinner. It’s been at least two years since I’ve eaten at the Blue Boar.”
“When I came down from my room tonight I was afraid that we might not be able to get a table because there was a private party. But since I’m a guest, they won’t refuse me.”
“You’re telling me that you have friends in high places?”
“I think you’re the one with friends in high places. One call from you to Ray and he would have served us dinner himself.”
“He’s a sweet guy.”
“He is. But, just so you know, he hates it when pretty women call him that.”
The restaurant was crowded but we had the pub to ourselves. For an appetizer I ordered the fondue for two, followed by the French onion gratinée and the filet mignon with crab-and-spinach-stuffed portobello and béarnaise sauce. Lynette ordered the Blue Boar salad and the duck breast with sour cherry purée.
After we’d been served our entrées I said, “I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but Ray told me your husband passed away.”
She nodded. “About seven years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“So, tell me about yourself.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know the last time someone said that to me. In a small town, it’s like everyone already knows everything about you. Or thinks they do.” She shook her head. “I’m the pretty young widow, you know. The one every wife pities and fears.”
“Fears?”
“I’ve actually seen them grab their husbands as I passed them on the sidewalk.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been seven years?”
“Seven long years.” She sighed. “You know, you think you know what your life’s going to look like, so you make these big plans, thinking you have some right to expect them. But it’s like writing in the sand on the beach. The waves come up onto the shore and erase them and you’re back to where you started.”
I loved the poetry of her explanation. It reminded me of her blog posts.
“What about you? Have you ever been married?”
“Yes. But I’m divorced.” I looked at her. “I hate saying that. It’s like announcing failure. I never thought I’d be divorced. It just wasn’t in my game plan.”
“Did your parents divorce?”
“No, they stayed together. For better or worse. Mostly worse. They probably should have divorced.”
“What happened with your marriage?”
“I thought she was unhappy because I was gone too much. So I changed my schedule. I took a pay cut to spend more time with her. But she really didn’t want that. That’s when she left.”
“You took a pay cut to be with her? That’s really sweet.” She grinned in prelude to her next question. “So what do you do when you’re not assassinating?”
“Something much less exciting. I sell traffic systems to city and state governments.”
“And that’s why you’re here?”
My answer barely made sense. “Sure.”
“How much longer will you be here?”
“Three days.”
“Not long,” she said. She took a drink, then looked into my eyes. “I’m driving to Salt Lake City tomorrow. Have you ever been there?”
“Just the airport.”
“Would you like to come with me?”
The offer surprised me. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Aria and I had planned on spending the day together. Lynette must have noticed my hesitation because she quickly said, “I’m sorry, I’m not usually so forward, but Saturday’s my only day off and I’m leaving town Sunday evening. I’d like to get to know you better.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. Finally I said, “I’ll make it work. I’d like to get to know you better too.”
The rest of the night was pleasant. We talked a lot about Florida, not because I wanted to, but because Lynette did. She had never been to the East Coast. Truthfully, I wanted to tell her about my visits in Midway, but I couldn’t figure out any context I could do that in without telling her everything. She was peaceful and I enjoyed every minute being with her. But I still couldn’t keep my mind off of Aria.
After dinner I drove Lynette home, then called Aria to change our plans. She didn’t answer her phone. Considering her schedule, I’m sure she’d already been asleep for several hours. I didn’t want to break our date by voice mail, so I just hung up, planning to call in the morning.
I hoped she’d understand.
CHAPTER
Thirty
The next morning I woke late because the alarm on my phone didn’t go off. I had forgotten to charge it and it had gone dead in the night, which also meant I couldn’t call Aria. I plugged it in, then went downstairs to meet Lynette, who had come to join me for breakfast. She was dressed in a form-fitting dark-green sweater wi
th black leggings. She looked beautiful.
As we were eating, Ray walked up to us. “Well, well, now. What a lovely sight.” He looked at Lynette. “Hello, my dear.”
Lynette stood and the two of them hugged. After she’d sat down, Ray said, “Allow me to vouch for this man. It’s been a sheer delight getting to know him.”
She smiled at me. “That’s good to know.”
“Thank you,” I said to Ray. “Likewise.”
“So what are you kids planning on doing today?”
“We’re driving to Salt Lake,” Lynette said. “I’m going to show him around.”
“That sounds wonderful. Be safe.” He winked at me. “Divinity.”
The drive to Salt Lake City was pleasant, with natural conversation. Maybe it came from her being a masseuse, or perhaps it was the reason she had become one, but she was easy to talk to. There was no judgment. No hurdles.
When we reached downtown, Lynette directed me to a place called City Creek, an outdoor mall that was festively decorated for the season. Not surprisingly, the mall was crowded.
After wandering around the stores for an hour she said, “Could you excuse me a moment? I need to pick something up.”
“Should I go with you?”
“No,” she said, smiling. “I’ll meet you back here in . . . forty minutes?”
“Sure.”
She quickly walked off. I wondered why she didn’t want me to go with her. I couldn’t imagine she was purchasing something for me.
I found a bench and sat down. I had been people-watching for a few minutes when I spotted a Tiffany jewelry store about fifty yards from me, and I walked to it.
As I wandered around, looking inside their glass showcases, a particular piece caught my eye. It was a quarter-size, white gold pendant in the shape of a star with yellow gems inside.
A saleswoman walked up to me. “May I help you?”
“Could you tell me about that piece? The star one . . .”
“Of course.” She reached inside the case and lifted the pendant from its dark blue felt display. “This piece is called the noble star. The emblem itself is made of white gold. The gems are canary diamond chips.”
“Canary diamonds?”
“Yellow diamonds,” she said. “They’re chips, so they’re not faceted.”
I looked at the price. It was almost fifteen hundred dollars.
“Would you like to handle it?”
“Yes.”
She gingerly handed it to me. “It’s really a unique pendant,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Neither had I. Chalk it up to my recent insanity, but for some reason I had to buy it. I wasn’t even sure who I was buying it for. I assumed it was for LBH. But the truth was, it was Aria who kept coming to mind.
Lynette was waiting for me as I walked back. She was now carrying several large shopping bags. I should have known that the robin’s-egg-blue Tiffany sack would catch her attention.
“You bought something at Tiffany?”
I glanced down at the small sack. “Yes. For a friend.”
She didn’t say anything.
Afterward we drove to the Grand America Hotel. We had lunch at the elegant Garden Café, then followed their holiday “window stroll,” a tour of the hotel’s Christmas-themed windows, culminating in a life-size gingerbread house that allegedly had taken thirteen hundred pounds of flour, three hundred pounds of sugar, and fifteen hundred eggs to make.
All day long I waited for the right time to tell Lynette that I’d been reading her blog and why I had really come to Utah, but the right time never came. We concluded our day with dinner at a restaurant that overlooked the impressively illuminated Temple Square. Afterward we went to see the grounds.
The air was cold but not as brisk as in Midway. As we walked, Lynette moved close to me, and I could tell that she wanted to hold hands. I took her hand, though, for some reason, it felt a little unnatural.
She was quiet. We both were. It had been a nice day. A pleasant day. But something felt wrong. Maybe that it was nice and pleasant and nothing but that was exactly what was wrong. I had expected something more from meeting LBH—something magical and passionate. Instead the day felt like a pleasant outing with a good friend. Or a sister.
Lynette didn’t say much until we were nearly to the mouth of the canyon.
“Thank you for today. It was really nice.”
“It was my pleasure. Thank you for the invitation.”
She looked over at me. “I wish you weren’t leaving town so soon.”
“Me too,” I said.
The silence boomed. I wasn’t sure what to say. Then she said, “Would you like to come over for lunch tomorrow?”
“I thought you were leaving town.”
“Tomorrow night. But if you already have other plans . . .”
I didn’t have plans. At least not yet. “No, that sounds nice. What time should I come?”
“Two?”
“Two it is.”
Even though I was missing Aria, I had to go. It was my last chance to tell her why I was really there. It was my last chance to confront LBH.
When I got back to my room I picked up my phone, afraid of what I’d find. There were six voice-mail messages—one from Nate, one from Dale, the other four from Aria. I felt a sharp stab of guilt.
I listened to Nate’s and Dale’s messages first just to get them out of the way. Nate was characteristically succinct.
It’s Nate, call me back.
Dale wasn’t so succinct.
Hey, dude, it’s Dale, returning your call. Don’t know what you need. Maybe you got married. If it was just a butt call, this never happened. Call me anyway.
I selected the first of Aria’s messages. Her voice started out bright and happy and fell with each succeeding call.
9:17 - Hi, Alex. It’s Aria. I saw that you called last night, sorry I went to bed the second I got home. I was so tired. So, I was just checking to see if we’re still on for today. I missed seeing you yesterday. . . . Looking forward to seeing you.
9:56 - Hi, it’s me again. Aria. I don’t know if you got my last message. Please call when you get a chance. Let me know what’s going on.
12:16 - Hi, it’s Aria. I don’t know what’s going on. If I did something to offend you, I’m sorry. Please call me.
On her last message her voice was soft and painful. Vulnerable.
4:36 - Hi. I don’t know if you’re trying to say good-bye without talking to me. I guess you are, right? My heart hurts. I really liked being with you. I don’t know what I did, or if you just realized that you didn’t want to be with me. . . . Anyway, I know you’ll be leaving soon and I just wanted to tell you that it was nice getting to know you. I wish you well.
Her voice rang off with sadness. My heart ached. I immediately called her back but she didn’t answer. Her phone must have been turned off or maybe I was blocked, because it wouldn’t even allow me to leave a message. How stupid could I be?
CHAPTER
Thirty-one
I didn’t sleep well. I had dreams about Aria. I felt like I had dozens of them, but I only remembered one. It was disturbing. Lynette was putting a black bag over Aria’s head. Before she did, Aria looked up at me. Her eyes turned to stone.
I didn’t know if Aria was working or not, and I didn’t want to wake her if she wasn’t, so I waited until nine to call her. She didn’t answer. I called again. And again.
Then Lynette texted me to ask me how I liked my steak.
I texted back.
Medium well. I’ll see you soon.
Finally I called Nate. He didn’t answer, and I figured he was probably at church, so I called Dale. He answered on the second ring.
“Hey, man. When did you get back?”
“I’m not. I’m
still in Utah.”
“Still in Utah? Can’t find her?”
“No, I found her. But I’ve got a problem.”
“She’s married. She’s a he. She’s ugleeeee . . .”
“Stop,” I said. “No, it’s . . . I came out here for one woman and I found two.”
Dale was quiet for just a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Stop laughing,” I said. “Not everything’s a joke.”
“I’m sorry, man. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with the universe. I think it’s great.”
“It’s not great. It’s a problem.”
“You fell in love with two women in, like, a week?”
“No. I fell in love with Lynette months ago. But there’s another woman . . . It’s like . . .” I didn’t know how to describe Aria.
“Speechless. I love it. Wait, I’ve got the answer. You’re in Utah; they do that Big Love thing out there. Bring them both back.”
“Stop it,” I said.
“Look, lighten up, man. You sound like you have an actual problem, like third-world debt or world hunger. Your problem is a good problem. What’s better than having two potential clients competing for your sale? You just take the highest bidder. And in this case, by highest bidder I mean the largest bra size.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
I hung up. I sat there for a minute, then went to the counter and retrieved the dried edelweiss that Ray had given me. I looked around for something to put it in. The only thing I could find, besides the room’s laundry bag, was the Tiffany bag. I took the pendant out and hid it inside my suitcase, then put the edelweiss in the bag.
I know, in hindsight, I should have known better. It was a man-dumb thing.
On the drive over to Lynette’s my mind was going faster than the car, which wasn’t surprising, since the roads were like tundra and I had to drive as slow as a Miami retiree to keep from going into a ditch.
The Mistletoe Secret Page 15
