She scoffed. “No, of course not.”
“I’m better now and in control of my emotions.” She thought about Simon and the depth of his faith in her. She wished her mother had as much trust in her.
“Have you told Simon yet about … you know?”
Evie bowed her head. “No.”
“Good. We don’t want our dirty laundry aired to the whole island.”
“God, Mom. He wouldn’t broadcast it. Besides, it’s not that big a deal. People make mistakes all the time.” Funny she would think that. For months now, she never once considered what she’d done a mistake. Perhaps saying it out loud made her recognize the truth.
“A mistake? Is that what you call it?”
Evie heaved a huge sigh, refusing to fuel Felicia’s fire. “Simon would understand.”
“Would he?”
“Yes.” Evie’s certainty wavered when Felicia raised a perfectly arched brow.
“You’re not falling in love with him again, are you?”
“No.” Not true. She couldn’t tell her mother, though. It would only open the door for her to tell Evie again what a mistake it would be. If they ever got back together in that way, Evie would probably feel the need to keep their relationship a secret, like a teenager whose parents defied her to see a certain boy. She wished her mother would see the perfect fit she and Simon made and how happy he made her. “We’ve been over for a long time.”
Rosa brought their coffee and placed a blueberry muffin in front of Evie. “You’re favorite. On the house.”
Evie smiled. “Thanks, Rosa. That’s so sweet of you.”
When Rosa walked away, Felicia turned to Evie. “Since when do you like blueberries?”
See? Her own mother knew nothing about her. She looked across the street at Stella Maris church. “Why did you and Dad stop going to church all those years ago?”
Felicia dumped milk in her coffee and flapped a package of sugar substitute in the air like her life depended on moving every speck of the crystals to the bottom. “Where’d that come from?” She ripped open the packet and poured the contents into her cup.
Evie raised her shoulders. “Seeing the church reminded me how we used to attend mass there every Sunday when I was a kid. Then all of a sudden we stopped. I just wondered why.”
“We couldn’t find the time anymore.”
Something in her eyes told Evie differently. What was it? Guilt? Felicia wanted to know all Evie’s secrets and the whys, hows and whats of everything concerning Evie, but it didn’t work both ways. She picked at her muffin. “As simple as that, huh?”
Felicia’s pink, glossy lips turned down at the corners. “Yes.” She looked at her watch. “I need to get back to the hospital. “How’re you feeling? I stopped by Recovery on Saturday but you’d already been discharged.”
“It was just a cyst, Mom. No big deal.”
“Yes, well, see you don’t overdo it,” Felicia said, standing.
“I love you, Mom.”
Felicia nodded and pranced out of the cafe.
Evie placed a five dollar bill under her cup, smiled at Rosa and walked to the door, trying to forgive her mother for disliking Simon and for her prejudices and wondering what she hid from her.
She recalled the Easter Sunday morning twenty-four years ago. Felicia had seemed preoccupied. With thoughts, or worries? Evie couldn’t be sure. Her father had dressed her for church. “Where’s Mommy, Daddy? She always dresses me for church. “We’re running a little late this morning and Mommy’s getting ready.”
So, they had planned on going. Later, while she had waited in the foyer, dressed in her black patented leather shoes, new pink, frilly frock and her long hair hanging in wild curls down her back, a door slammed over her head, then her father, wearing a suit and tie, came down the staircase. She remembered his solemn expression and slumped shoulders vividly.
“What’s the matter, Daddy?”
“Nothing, sweetheart, Mommy’s not feeling well. We won’t be going to church today.”
“Why can’t you take me?” Her father knelt on one knee in front her. “Then Mommy will be all alone. You don’t want that, do you?”
“Did I do something wrong, Daddy? Is Mommy mad at me?”
From that night on for awhile, Harrison had tucked her in at night, chased the bogeyman from beneath her bed, listened to her prayers and kissed her forehead, like her mother used to do. “God, bless Mommy and Daddy, Simon, Dan and Keertana and my pony. And, Jesus, don’t make Mommy mad at me anymore.
Evie turned up the collar of her jacket, feeling cold suddenly. So what if her mother wouldn’t tell her the truth. She should be used to it by now.
Cars passed, but other than that, she was alone on the street. Like blinks, thoughts and questions traveled through her mind as images of Felicia’s tear-stained face and her father’s sad-looking face flashed in her eyes. Dear God, what had happened? What had she done?
“Officer, can you tell me where the shoe store for one legged men is located?”
She recognized the voice. This one made her smile. Turning, she said, “It’s the straw building at the corner of Flushed with Pride Avenue and Send in the Clowns Street.”
Simon threw back his head and laughed. “Want a lift?”
She was across the street and in the jeep in a flash. He drove toward the station.
“Where were you just now? You seemed lost in thought.”
“I had coffee with my mother.”
“Say no more. I understand.”
If anyone understood how Felicia affected her, he did. “Where’ve you been?”
Turning into the parking lot, he pulled into the space reserved for the Chief of Police. He shut off the engine, reached inside his jacket and pulled out a neatly wrapped present.
“I planned on giving you this tonight, but since you asked … happy birthday, Evie.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
She took the gift in her hand, tears filling her eyes. “You remembered.” Her mother hadn’t. How could Felicia think so little of him? How could she think he wouldn’t make her happy? How could she think he was unworthy of her?
Tugging on the pink ribbon, she undid the bow, lifted the lid and moved the cotton wadding aside. Gold glinted in the light streaming through the window. She took the delicate gold chain in her hand and admired the medal, not recognizing the saint. “Who is it?”
“Our Lady of Lourdes and inside is water drawn from the spring of Our Lady of Apparitions Grotto in Lourdes, France.”
She remembered now. “The water is supposed to be miraculous. I don’t remember the story behind it. Do you?”
Simon read from the bottom of the box. “Somewhere in the late eighteen hundreds, in the grotto of Massabielle, near Lourdes, Our Lady appeared eighteen times to a young peasant girl, Bernadette Soubirous, revealing herself as the Immaculate Conception. She asked that a chapel be built on the site of the vision, and told the girl to drink from a fountain in the grotto.”
She nodded. “Yes, yes. There was no fountain, but when Bernadette dug at a spot indicated by the apparition, a spring flowed. If memory serves, it still flows today and the water is said to have healing power, though it contains no curative property that science can identify.” She looked at him. “You think I need a miracle?”
He returned her smile. “Everyone needs a miracle now and then.”
“What would be your miracle?”
“That you’ll love me again.”
She blinked back tears. A sob caught in her throat. I do love you, Simon. I never stopped loving you. Until she told him everything about her past, she couldn’t tell him that, though. Tonight, after they returned from their date, she would tell him what she had done.
Chapter Eighteen
Evie took great care choosing her clothes for her date with Simon and finally settled on a pleated navy dress and navy slingbacks. Simon’s birthday gift encircled her neck. She fingered the medal and asked God to give her to courage to tell Sim
on what she had done and said a prayer that everything would work out well tonight.
Please, God. Hear my prayers.
The sun moved slowly below the horizon when he pulled into the drive. She met him on the stoop. Simon whistled. His reaction pleased her tremendously. “And look at you! All gussied up in a suit and tie.” He ran a finger around the inside of the collar, clearly feeling restrained. “Only for you, Evie.” That pleased her, too.
“All set?”
“Like gelatin.”
Settled in his Mustang, she laid her head against the headrest and turned to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
She groaned.
He glanced her way and smiled. “Anything.”
“Why did you ask me out? I’ve treated you like a stranger since I got back.”
“Truthfully?”
“Of course.” She reinforced her answer with a nod.
“I’m worried about you. I thought you needed a night out.”
That saddened her. She was not the little girl anymore who needed looking after. “I’m fine.” Disappointment edged her voice.
The car bottomed out in a pothole.
“You should have some gravel hauled in.”
“I don’t own the cottage, remember? I’ll ask Dad. I hate to bother him, though. He’s done too much for me as it is.”
He looked at her. “What do you mean? You’ve only seen your parents once or twice since you got back.”
This was exactly what she feared would happen. Unaccustomed to keeping secrets, the truth slipped out in little ways. “You know, letting me stay in the cottage rent free, helping me out money-wise.” How easily the lie came. She hated herself for it and for the need to do so. The time had come for her to purge herself. She hoped when the time came, she had enough courage to tell him. What if she lost his love? How would she bear life, then?
“I wish I could hire you full-time, but we’re already over-staffed as it is.”
She put her hand on his arm. “It wasn’t meant as a complaint, only as an explanation. You asked.”
“I’m sorry. I sounded defensive.”
“No need to apologize.”
They fell silent and she rested her eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed her. Why did she feel so tired? She slept well last night. Maybe she needed more iron in her blood. She should make an appointment with her family doctor. He’d want to run a barrage of tests that would keep her running back and forth to the hospital. The thought tired her even more. For now, she’d eat more iron-enriched foods. She opened her eyes and realized they headed in the opposite direction from town. “Where’re we going?”
“My parents. Mom wants to see you.”
Oh, God. How could she face Keertana? She’d called her and apologized for running out Sunday night without thanking her for the wonderful meal or saying goodbye, but meeting Keertana’s eyes was an entirely different matter. She sighed.
“I didn’t think you’d mind. Our reservations are only for eight.”
“It’s fine, Simon. Don’t worry about it.” Oh God, how will she get through Keertana’s interrogation?
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” He pointed to the starlit sky through the windshield.
“Yes, it is.” She grinned. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”
“I’m not.”
“Are too.”
“Well, maybe a little.”
She laughed. “You were always the first to fold.”
“Was not.”
“Were too.”
He cocked his head. “Okay, maybe I was.”
“See?” She elbowed him in the ribs. They reached his parents’ house. He stopped and cut the engine. “We might as well get this over with. You know my mother. She wants to see for herself you’re fine.”
“I feel embarrassed already.”
“Nonsense.”
She squirmed in her seat. He noticed.
“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I’ll call Mom and make her understand.”
“Make her understand?” She giggled. “I’ll love to see you try. Your mother’s like a bullet train when she’s got a bee in her headband.” She opened the door and looked over at him sitting rigidly still. “Aren’t you coming?”
Ten minutes later, Simon and Evie turned onto the highway toward town.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Simon asked.
“Your mom surprised me, too. I expected incense, chants and Holy water thrown in my face.”
“She uses whips, handcuffs and a hammer these days to keep us in line,” he said deadpan, massaging the back of his head.
Music, laughter and whispered words mingling with the delicious aroma of French cuisine greeted them when they entered The Pier. The restaurant was just as she remembered. High-ceilinged walls, waiters in uniforms of black dress pants, red cropped jackets, white shirts and black bow ties, linen covered tables and crystal vases of freshly cut flowers. Couples clung together on the dance floor, waltzing to Frank Sinatra tunes.
Simon placed his hand at the pit of her back as they followed the maitre’d to their table.
“Next to the window, as you requested, Chief Wolfe.”
“Thank you, Gilles.” Simon held the back of her chair as she sat.
He always treated her with such respect. “Thanks.”
He sat across from her and took the menus from the maitre’d’s hand.
“Ryan will be serving you tonight. Bon appetit.”
She gazed out the window under the light of a full moon. The pond seemed larger than she recalled and the pine trees surrounding it had grown full and tall in her absence. She turned and recognized faces she hadn’t seen in a long while. It felt great to get out. It also felt wrong. They shouldn’t be enjoying themselves, not with a killer on the loose. For all they knew, the murderer could be seated next to them.
“Why are you frowning?”
She turned and stared into Simon’s face, her mind drawing a blank.
“Are you all right?”
“A little tired.”
The waiter appeared at their sides. “Would you like something to drink?”
Evie opened her mouth, then closed it when Simon answered for her.
“The lady will have a glass of red wine, and I’ll have a martini.”
“Right away, sir.”
“You have a good memory.” She smiled.
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “When it comes to you, I remember everything.”
“Anything knew to report on the murder?”
“Let’s not talk shop tonight.”
She fingered the cutlery and looked into his eyes. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Oh, it’s not what I want to say, it’s what I want to do.”
Her heart somersaulted as images of their naked bodies flashed in her mind. “Do?”
“Dance with me.” He held out his hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms. “I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he whispered in her ear.
“To dance with me?”
“To hold you in my arms.”
They moved in tune to a waltz.
She looked at him. “You’ve been taking lessons, haven’t you? You were never so Fred Astaire on your feet.”
“There’s a lot you — ” Simon turned and looked at the man tapping him on the shoulder.
He was a stranger to Evie and as much as she would rather be in Simon’s arms, she accepted the man’s invitation to dance. Simon stepped back, irked, she noticed. “Keep my place,” she said to his retreating back. The man took her hand and hauled her against his chest.
“Ooof,” rushed out of her mouth. She frowned and put space between them.
“What’s the matter, darling? You didn’t mind being close to me the other night.”
She freed her hand from his grasp and stared at him. “You have me mistaken
for someone else. I don’t know you.”
He put his hand against his heart. “Now that hurts. I thought I was the best lover you ever had, at least that’s what you told me.”
She took a step back. “No, no, you’re mistaken.” Not wanting to create a scene, she kept her voice soft.
“Is there a problem?” Simon stepped between them and faced the stranger.
Not wanting an altercation, she moved to stand in front of Simon and laid a hand on his chest. “Everything’s fine. He thought I was someone else.”
The man drew his eyebrows together and nodded. “Yes, your lady friend is right. The woman I mistook your girlfriend for was a lot friendlier.”
She watched him leave, something familiar about him tugging at her memory.
“Do you know the jerk, Evie?”
“I…no, I don’t know him from Adam. Did the waiter bring our drinks?” The confrontation rattled her. Her hands shook and moisture formed on her upper lip. She needed alcohol and something stronger than wine.
“Chilled and waiting.” He walked her back to their table.
“That was strange,” Simon said.
“I guess.”
“He seemed positive he knew you.”
“Didn’t he.” Goose bumps broke out on her forearms. She gulped her wine.
“Don’t let it bother you. It was a simple misunderstanding.”
How could he read her feelings so easily after all these years? Did he still know her so well? She inhaled a deep breath and forced the incident from her mind. “Let’s not let it ruin our night.”
He raised his glass. “May we forget what is best forgotten.”
“Amen.” If only she could do that, her life would be a lot simpler and easier.
“Speaking of memories, do you remember the last time we came here?”
She smiled. “On my nineteenth birthday, just before I left for police college.”
“And later?”
“How could I forget getting caught by Honeydale’s finest while we made out in the bed of your old pickup?” Her smile turned melancholy. “We were so young and naive back then.”
“And in love.”
“So in love.” She recognized the look of lust in his eyes and sighed, wishing what-ifs. Her mouth went dry. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them lightly. She melted. A want like none other to make love with him flooded through her, but insofar as the want seduced her, she couldn’t give in to the temptation without first being totally honest with him. Only when she told him the horrible secret of her past could she hope to have that closeness with him again. He might run as far from her as possible when he knew what she did. Though when had Simon ever run from anything? He always stood by her before. Why should this time be different? “We had some great times, didn’t we?”
Wolfe, She Cried Page 10
