The House on Main Street

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The House on Main Street Page 24

by Shirlee McCoy


  She ran.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ten hours later, Tess wished she had just kept on running.

  “You’re an idiot,” Gertrude said for about the nine-millionth time, her casted leg swinging as she sat on Emily’s bed and watched Tessa dress for the dance.

  Neither had gotten much sleep after Zim’s attempted break-in, and it showed. Gertrude was grumpy, and Tess was about to kill her. Justifiable homicide. That’s what she planned to plead.

  “An idiot, Tess. There is no doubt about it.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Tess retorted as she slid her arms into the cap sleeves of the velvet ball gown.

  “That’s the best you can do? What is this, high school?”

  “Look, I know you mean well—”

  “No, I don’t. I mean business. You pined over that boy for years. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t. Now he’s wanting to be part of your life, and you’re not sure it’s a good idea?” Gertrude bristled with indignation.

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t a good idea. I just said it wasn’t your business.”

  “Same thing,” she huffed.

  “No. It’s not. As Cade rightfully told you, we have to figure things out ourselves.” Tess knew this because she’d stood outside the kitchen and listened, just to make sure Cade’s explanation of his intentions didn’t give poor old Zim a heart attack.

  “I’m as close to a mother as you’ve ever had, girly. I can’t believe that you’re trying to cut me out of your life.”

  “For crying out loud, Gertrude! Do you have to be so melodramatic?”

  “Melodramatic? I’ll give you melodramatic. I’ll melodramatic my way all the way out of this room,” Gertrude growled, but she didn’t budge from the bed. And to Tessa’s surprise, she actually looked hurt.

  “Look.” She sighed. “I’m not cutting you out of anything, and I’m not saying no to a relationship with Cade. If I were, would I be heading to a dance with him?”

  “How should I know, since you’re not talking?” Gertrude grunted, but she looked mollified. “I like the velvet. Good choice,” she added.

  “It is pretty, isn’t it?” Tess tried to button the dress. Not easy with something so tight fitting. She was breaking a sweat when Gertrude hopped over on her crutches.

  “I’ll do it,” Gertrude offered.

  “It’s okay. I can manage.”

  “Just for once, let me do something for you, Tess,” Gertrude said softy.

  Surprised, Tess looked into her eyes, saw that same softness reflected in her gaze. “You’ve done plenty for me.”

  “I gave you a home and I loved you, but you never let me take care of you. You were always too damn good at taking care of yourself.” Gertrude started buttoning the dress. “I always admired your gumption, Tess. But sometimes it’s nice to be needed.”

  She stepped back, done with the buttons, her lined hands hanging loose as she balanced on her one good leg. “There. And you look beautiful.”

  “So do you,” Tess said, hugging her.

  “Humph! I’m a lined old hag, but I love you, so I’ll accept the compliment. Now, about you and Cade—”

  “Gertrude.” Tessa sighed again, smoothing gloss onto her lips. “Please, just let it drop for a while.”

  The floor creaked in the hall, and a shadow passed beneath the closed door. Tess crossed the room, the dress heavy and opulent as it swished the floor.

  “You can come in, Alex,” she called.

  The door cracked open, and Alex stuck his head in, his eyes going wide when he saw Tess.

  “What do you think?” she asked, holding out her arms so he could get the full effect of deep purple velvet, layered skirts, and lacy trim. Not that she thought he knew much about 1900s fashion, but they were trying to mesh all their different personalities into that nebulous thing called family, and she knew he wanted to be part of it. Even if he didn’t quite know how.

  “Pretty,” Alex responded, sidling past her and perching on the bed.

  “Thanks.” Tess touched his shoulder, and he gave her a rare smile, his eyes meeting hers for a long moment.

  “It’s amazing what a perfect fit it is, Tess.” Gertrude eyed her critically. “You and Miriam must have been around the same size.”

  “We don’t know that it was hers.” And it really wasn’t a perfect fit. The bodice was a little too snug, and the neckline plunged more than Tess would have liked. The waistline barely left room for her to take a breath.

  “Yes,” Alex said, sliding off the bed and walking to the dresser. He lifted the mother-of-pearl box that she’d left there. She hadn’t tried to find a key, hadn’t really thought much about it since Alex had given it to her.

  “Open it,” he prodded.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t have a key.”

  “Mom has it.” He walked to the dresser and reached behind the mirror, his hand gliding up and down for a moment. “See!”

  He held up a small key attached to a piece of tape and smiled another one of his rare smiles.

  Tessa’s heart melted. “You’re a smart kid, you know that?”

  “Yes. Open the box.”

  She shoved the little key into the tiny gold lock and the lid popped open. Inside, a black velvet bag lay on top of what looked like a pile of letters.

  Tess poured the contents of the bag into her hand, cool white pearls spilling out into her palm. She lifted them. Double strand with a large blue gem hanging from the center. A blue diamond? Tess wasn’t an expert, but she thought that the smaller gems that surrounded it were cushion-cut diamonds.

  “Wow!” Gertrude breathed. “Is it paste?”

  Tess turned the stone over. “It’s an awfully nice setting if it is. Was it Emily’s?”

  “I never saw her wear it. Where did it come from, Alex?”

  “Miriam.” He sat on the bed again, his hair flopping over his forehead. He needed a haircut. He also needed his parents, but Tess was beginning to think that maybe she could be enough. Not as much, just . . . enough.

  “Now, how would you know a thing like that?” Gertrude lifted the necklace from Tessa’s hands, the gems sparkling as she held them up to the light.

  “Dad told me.”

  “If they’re real, they’re worth a fortune. All this time we’ve been struggling, and we were sitting on a jackpot,” Gertrude crowed.

  “No.” Alex shook his head.

  “They’re not real?” Gertrude unhooked the clasp and put the necklace around Tessa’s neck.

  “They can’t leave. Just like my angel.” Alex stared at the floor, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh.

  “Don’t worry, Alex. We’ll keep them here and take good care of them.” Tess touched his soft hair.

  “And my angel.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was asking a question or making a statement, so she answered the best way she could. “As soon as we figure out where it is, we’ll never let the angel out of our sight again. I promise.”

  It was all she could say. After Zim’s confession, they’d searched every inch of the house, but there’d been no wrapped box, no angel. Nothing.

  Alex walked out of the room.

  Seconds later, piano music filled the house.

  The angel’s song, sad and somehow haunting, as if Alex thought he could call Miriam’s creation back home.

  “Poor kid. That angel should never have left the house. I guess you’re not the only idiot, Tess.” Gertrude sighed.

  “Thanks,” Tess said wryly.

  Gertrude laughed, cocking her head to the side and walking to the window. “I think I heard a car pulling up outside. Probably your young man.”

  “He’s not mine,” she protested automatically, but the little shiver of excitement she felt said something entirely different.

  The doorbell rang, and Tessa’s stomach filled with butterflies.

  “I’ll get it. You just take your time in that dress. What with us being cursed, you don’t want to ris
k falling down the stairs and breaking your neck.”

  “We’re not cursed.”

  Too late. Gertrude was out in the hall, her crutches tapping the floor.

  Tess glanced in the mirror before she walked out of the room. The necklace was beautiful, the pendant falling just above her breasts. She touched the center gem, almost afraid to wear it. If she lost it, Alex would be upset, and she’d feel like crap.

  “Tessa, Cade is here!” Gertrude called in a singsong voice that would have made Tessa’s hackles rise if she hadn’t been so nervous and excited and generally wound up. All because Cade was there, and she wanted to see him again. She thought that no matter how many times she saw him, it would never be enough. She lifted the heavy skirts enough to shove her feet into two-inch heels, then took a deep, steadying breath.

  She felt wobbly as she made her way down the hall. Not because of the shoes or the heavy dress. Her insides were fluttering and her nerves were humming, and she nearly tripped when she saw Cade at the bottom of the stairs.

  He looked better than good in a black tuxedo, his shoes shined and his tie nearly a perfect match for her dress.

  He walked up as she descended, meeting her on the third step, his eyes deep stormy blue. “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “I was thinking the same about you,” she blurted out.

  Cade laughed. “Thanks. I think.”

  “I guess I should have said handsome.”

  “Might have saved my masculine ego, but a compliment is a compliment, so I guess I’ll take it.”

  “You two going to talk all night, or get out of here?” Gertrude handed Tessa her coat, and Cade helped her into it, his knuckles brushing her jaw as he adjusted the collar.

  She shivered, looking into his eyes, losing herself there again.

  “Come on, you two! Move it!” Gertrude held the door open and motioned for them both to leave. “Alex and I have a dinner date, and I don’t want to be late because of your lollygagging.”

  That was the first Tess had heard about a date. She stopped short, eyeing Gertrude. She’d been too busy getting ready to notice before, but there was blush on her aunt’s cheeks and mascara on her eyelashes. All of it as tasteful and understated as Gertrude ever managed to be. Even her lipstick looked classy rather than garish. “What date?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about. We’re just going next door. Zim wanted to cook us dinner. Kind of an apology meal, if you want to call it that.”

  “You called it a date.”

  “Figure of speech.” Gertrude patted her hair and looked smug.

  “Then why do you look like the cat who ate the canary?”

  “Because a man is cooking dinner for me, kid. That’s enough to make any woman swoon. Now, you two get out of here. I have to get Alex moving, and you know how long that can take when the boy is playing piano.” She gave Tessa a less than gentle shove out the door.

  Cade stepped out behind her and barely missed being crushed by the closing door.

  “Man, she’s really in a hurry to have dinner with old Zim. Maybe she’s had a stroke and isn’t in her right mind. Maybe I should go back in and—”

  “She’s going to be fine, Tess,” Cade said, his hand pressed to her lower back as he urged her to his . . . truck?

  No. Not a truck. A Model T Ford.

  “Is this from 1925?” she asked, touching the glossy black hood.

  “Twenty-six, but you were close.” He opened the door and lifted her into the seat, folding her gown around her legs so it wouldn’t get stuck in the door. Just that easily. Up and in, and she felt giddy with his scent, the cold air, the adventure of going off to a Christmas party with a man who used to be the boy she loved.

  It was a quick ride to town hall, with Cade telling stories about a renegade rooster and a missing Christmas goose. About a hapless blue-haired lady who’d been chased down Main Street by both.

  By the time he parked the car, Tess was laughing so hard, she thought she might split the dress. “That poor woman. I’m surprised she didn’t have a heart attack.”

  “Gladys Moran is way too ornery to have a heart attack just because a couple of barn fowl were chasing her.”

  “Gladys Moran? As in Mrs. Moran the wood-shop teacher?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “She’s got to be eighty if she’s a day.”

  “Closing in on ninety, but you wouldn’t know it from the way she sprinted down the street. It probably helps that she still runs marathons.”

  “That seals it. I want to be Gladys when I grow up.”

  “I have noticed you running every morning, and you look a heck of a lot better than poor Ms. Gladys did when she was racing past the police station!” He lifted her from the car, taking her hand as they crossed the parking lot.

  She felt like a giddy schoolgirl but better, because she wasn’t a silly kid with a crush. She was a grown woman who’d had plenty of experience with men. Or at least enough to know how perfectly wonderful it felt to have Cade’s warm calloused palm pressed against hers.

  Town hall had been decorated with a subtle hand, strings of white Christmas lights twining around the stair railing. A small Christmas tree stood on the landing, decorated with turn-of-the-century ornaments. Dozens of people milled around in period costumes, faces flushed, eyes glowing.

  “You made it!” Ida hurried toward Tess and Cade, resplendent in a high-necked ivory gown. “Hang your coats in the closet. There’s hot cider in the kitchen and a live pianist in the meeting hall. We’ve cleared everything out for dancing! I hope you two know how to waltz!”

  “Do you?” Cade asked, helping Tessa out of her coat and hanging it up.

  “I’ve gone a few rounds. How about you?”

  “I’m not Fred Astaire, but how about we give it a whirl anyway?” He tugged Tess into the meeting hall.

  Several couples were already there. Old high school friends that hadn’t changed all that much since Tess had last seen them. The Murphys were there, too, Kristen’s head resting on Larry’s chest as they swayed to the music.

  Tessa’s throat tightened as she watched. Unlike her parents, the Murphys seemed to know what mattered. They’d been devoted to each other for years and would continue to be forever.

  That was what Tess used to dream of. A fantasy. Fairy tale. Happily ever after. It took a lot more than dreams to make something like that work, though. It took two people who were willing to be everything to one another.

  “Have I told you,” Cade murmured as he led Tess deeper into the room and began the slow, flowing steps of the waltz, “how beautiful you are?”

  “I think you might have,” she responded.

  “Then I hope you won’t mind me saying it again.” His lips brushed her forehead. So much more romantic than if he’d simply kissed her lips, because of the sweetness in the gesture. The tenderness of it.

  Not that a kiss wouldn’t have been nice, too.

  Her hands moved of their own accord, sliding under his jacket so that she could feel his warmth through thin cotton.

  People were watching, and she didn’t care. This was her fantasy, dancing with Cade while soft music played.

  “This is nice,” she whispered, her fingers trailing along his waistband.

  “It is, and I’m wondering why it took us so long to get here.”

  “You were a little preoccupied when we were kids.” Oops! Too much information. Now was not the time for a jaunt down memory lane. Not when she was so cozy and comfortable in Cade’s arms.

  “Will you ever forgive me for that, Tess?” he asked, touching the pendant, his fingers skimming across flesh as his hand dropped away.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I was glad that you and Emily were together,” she lied, her skin burning where his fingers had been.

  “You really shouldn’t make a habit of lying. You’re not good at it.” He had the nerve to sound amused.

  “What do you want me to say, Cade? That I was crushed? That you br
oke my heart, and that I never got over you?”

  “What I want you to say is that you don’t hold my stupidity against me,” he replied, and she realized that they weren’t dancing anymore, and that half the people in the room were staring at them.

  Great.

  So much for a beautiful night.

  “I’m going to get some cider. Want me to bring you some?” she asked loudly enough for everyone to hear. God forbid, they think she and Cade had broken up before they’d ever really gotten together.

  “What I want—”

  “Sheriff!” A plump blonde with overflowing breasts and enough Botox in her forehead to paralyze a dozen faces grabbed Cade’s arm. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

  Tess left the two on the dance floor, her heart galloping so fast she thought it would leap from her chest.

  She slipped into the kitchen, smiling at a middle-aged woman who was manning a cider bowl. She took the cup she was handed and walked out the back exit.

  Gardens stretched out for several acres, Christmas lights strung from every tree and bush. Piano music drifted from speakers attached to the back porch and lazy flakes of snow drifted through the darkness.

  Home, Tessa’s heart seemed to say, and she put her hand to her chest, trying to push away the longing she felt. For family and love, for a place to settle and grow. Not in business or achievement but in the things that would last when she was old and gray.

  She followed the line of hedges, knowing that at the end of it she’d find a bench. There. Just as she’d thought it would be, it sat in the shadow of a large maple, white lights hanging above it.

  Footsteps crunched on the grass behind her, but Tess didn’t turn. She knew Cade was there. She felt his energy flowing into her, her soul responding with the same deep longing her heart felt when she looked at Christmas lights and snowflakes.

  “It’s too cold to be out without a coat,” Cade said gently, wrapping her in her coat, his knuckles brushing her jaw.

  “I thought you were dancing with Boobs and Botox.”

  He chuckled, pulling her into his arms, moving into the same easy waltz they’d danced before. “I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.”

  “For tonight, I think I like that.”

 

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