by Clay, Verna
"I was in Brookings the other day and ran into him on the sidewalk. He was with a woman maybe fifteen or twenty years his junior. And wow, was she a looker. She was hugging his arm and giving him lovie looks. He got kinda antsy when he saw me, but was as gracious as always and introduced her. Her name is Sasha, something or other. I can't remember her last name, but it was French or Italian. And she had the kind of figure we used to have." She chuckled. "I've never met anyone with the name of Sasha. It sounds kinda snooty if you ask me."
"Was she snooty?" Gabby forced the words out.
"Not in the least. In fact, she was a doll. If Leo is serious about her, I expect she'll show up in Somewhere. After you meet her, you can let me know if we're on the same page."
There was a loud crash in the background and Edna said, "Goodness, Suzy dropped another tray. I may have to move the girl behind the counter and take over her position, even though it kills my arthritis. Gotta go, luv. Talk to you later." She hung up before Gabby could respond.
Gabby set her phone on her desk and stared at the peace-sign saver screen on her computer monitor. Leo is seeing someone—a beautiful woman that Edna likes. She felt her throat close up. She had wanted him to find another woman, and now he had.
Unbidden images of their night together splashed across her mind and she placed a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. Leo is seeing someone.
Sunny ran along the shoreline with Noah chasing her. The day was frigid and crisp, and the sky clear. Noah caught up with her and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back against him. She laughed as she struggled to break free. He chuckled and promised, "I'm never letting you go," before turning her around and planting his lips on hers.
Sunny threw her arms around his neck and matched the passion of his kiss. Since Halloween, when she'd lost it and confided in Noah about her attack at the age of thirteen, she'd felt wonderfully free. She pulled her lips from his and leaned back. "Yes!" she said.
Noah's eyes questioned hers. "Yes?"
"Yes, I'll go to the prom with you." Noah's slow smile made her heart skitter and when he leaned in to kiss her again, she welcomed him. She was in love.
With expectation, Vicky opened the manila envelope that had arrived via special delivery. On the night of the haunted house when Michael had interrupted the unexplainable moment of her encounter with a real ghost, and then helped her outside the building before revealing information discovered by his investigator, she'd been waiting for the written report that would confirm his words.
Removing several pages from the envelope, her entire body shook with anticipation. The title page had the heading:
INITIAL INVESTIGATIVE REPORT
BELINDA KATHRYN BEAUFORT HOPE
She sighed and placed the pages back in the envelope. She would have to wait until later to read them because several visitors were entering the museum.
At closing time she was anxious to escape to her living quarters upstairs, but a talkative couple from Florida kept asking questions, and, as was her custom, she answered every question to the best of her ability and politely waited for them to leave. Finally, they bid her goodbye and she hastily locked the door before grabbing the envelope and rushing to the third floor.
While she waited for water in her electric kettle to heat, she hurried to her bedroom and quickly changed into faded sweats. She returned to her tiny kitchen alcove, prepared her tea, and carried it to her drop leaf table.
Inhaling, she removed the pages from their enclosure and read and reread the report. The sun was no longer shining when she finished and set the pages aside. She reached for her cell phone and made two phone calls. The first was to Gabby and the second to Faith.
To Gabby she said, "We need to meet. I have new information about that…er…project we worked on in your parlor. And please include Sunny. Do you think we can meet tonight?"
"Definitely. We're about to serve dinner and afterward I'll tell my guests that Sunny and I have duties to take care of. How about six-thirty? Do you want to come over here?"
"Yes. I'll call Faith and see if it works for her. If not, I'll call you back."
The timing was acceptable to Faith and at precisely seven-thirty, Vicky knocked on Gabby's door. Sunny opened the door and her expression registered excitement as she ushered her in. Vicky had just removed her coat and placed it on the rack when Faith arrived. The women glanced at each other with knowing looks and Sunny said, "Gabby's already upstairs preparing refreshments."
Before passing through the dining room and into the kitchen, Vicky and Faith followed Sunny to the library's open door. Several guests were comfortably seated and chatting and two others playing chess. Sunny stepped into the room, bid everyone goodnight, and then the ladies headed for the stairs off the kitchen that led to the third floor.
Ten minutes later the women were seated around Gabby's coffee table staring at the envelope Vicky had laid there. Vicky said, "This is an investigative report on Belinda."
Gabby frowned. "An investigative report? How did you get it? Did you have to pay for it? If so I want to help with the expense."
Vicky raised her hand when Faith started to speak. "It didn't cost me anything. I called in a favor."
"A favor from whom?" asked Gabby.
Vicky glanced at the envelope and then back at the women. "From Michael Wainwright."
There was a collective gasp from Gabby and Faith, and Vicky quickly explained. "I simply told him he owed me for being devious. He didn't even argue."
Gabby plopped back against the pillows on her couch. "Wow! That's the last thing I expected to hear." She tapped her index finger on her knee and tilted her head. "Maybe he's not as evil as we've painted him to be." She studied Vicky's blushing face. "Maybe he's got feelings for you, Vicky."
"That's ridiculous," she protested and wanted to change the subject.
Gabby wasn't ready to let the subject go. "As a matter of fact, it's curious that he never retaliates when he's picketed." She grinned. "I heard that he even treated your Portland picketers to coffee."
Vicky glanced at Faith to see that she, too, was smiling, and then at Sunny, who appeared intrigued. She quickly changed the subject by lifting the envelope off the table.
After Vicky and Faith left and Sunny went to her own room, Gabby stretched out on her couch and rehashed everything she knew about Belinda Hope. She merged the information from the diary with that of the investigative report, much of which only confirmed the basic facts about Belinda, but also said further information was pending.
Belinda had been born in Portland, an only child to a loving and affluent family. She had aspired to become a writer and obtained a job at a popular newspaper because of her father's influence. Her position had been writing about the social scene and that was how she met Randall Hope. He was older, handsome, and swept her off her feet. After a honeymoon in Europe they returned to his small hometown of Somewhere and took up residence in the house his father had built for him several years earlier. Belinda had loved the simple life, the townsfolk, and the amount of time afforded to devote to writing.
Gabby picked up her teacup and rose to prepare another cup before continuing her musings.
The first year of Belinda's life in Somewhere had been happy, but then she'd begun to notice things about her husband. She had always known he was ambitious and zealous to build a resort in Somewhere, but as his brother Sebastian's opposition became stronger, with more of the townsfolk joining him, Randall's behavior became erratic. He was often moody and depressed and actually came to hate his brother, and when he took a trip to San Francisco to meet with a company that had built several successful resorts, in a last ditch effort of changing the townsfolk's minds, Belinda was relieved. And while Randall was gone, Sebastian and his wife periodically checked in on her. One day, however, his wife was ill and didn't accompany him, and during that visit something changed between Belinda and Sebastian; an undeniable attraction took root. Of course, they both fought it, but one day whe
n Sebastian stopped by to ostensibly deliver groceries, their desire was too great and they ended up in each others arms. Late that night Sebastian secretly returned, and, for Belinda, everything she had thought Randall was—but wasn't—was realized in Sebastian. He was kind, caring of others, and tender. They spent one night together and then mutually broke off their relationship out of respect for his pregnant wife. When Randall returned, however, Belinda knew that she was also pregnant with Sebastian's child.
Rather than continue her musings with the rest of the story, Gabby rose again and walked to her window to stare into the night. Occasional glints of moonlight lit the ocean and she moved her gaze to the southern peninsula owned by Leo. In some ways, Belinda's story converged with Gabby's. Gabby had also felt the draw of another man after her marriage; however, that's where their stories diverged. Gabby had married a wonderful man and Leo a wonderful woman, and other than that one kiss, they had never cheated.
But now they were both single and a relationship would have been proper, except for the fact that Gabby couldn't get beyond her guilt and the impropriety of a relationship with the husband of her husband's relative.
Up until her marriage, Gabby's life had been on the outskirts of society with hippie parents who rejected societal conventions and basically did whatever they wanted, even going so far as to engage in "free love." Gabby wasn't wired that way and she'd hated that part of her parents' lifestyle. The steadfast life she had always wanted had finally been realized in her husband Marcus.
She sighed and returned to the couch to continue her musings about Belinda.
26: Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving Day was cold, frosty, and beautiful, which was the reason Vicky was now driving to the public beach to enjoy a walk. Afterward she would head over to Gabby's house to spend the remainder of the day and enjoy Thanksgiving dinner with the gathering there. In addition to the guests who had booked rooms, Faith and Baxter, Jennie and James and their two children, and Sunny would join the festivity. For years Vicky had been spending Thanksgiving with Gabby, but after dinner she would drive two and a half hours to the institution her mother lived in and try to hold a conversation with her. Usually, she seemed normal at first, but then she would start asking questions about Owen and become agitated. Many years ago Vicky's mother had been diagnosed as being schizophrenic.
Vicky pulled into a parking space at the public beach and brushed away a tear. For years she'd blamed herself for her mother's mental state, but recently she'd come to the conclusion that the doctors were right, her mother's illness had begun long before Owen's death. His death had been the catalyst that tipped her over the edge.
She locked her car and started toward the shoreline. Because it was almost winter the beach wasn't crowded like during summer. In fact, with today being a holiday, it was empty. She began walking south and picked up shells along the way. Over the years her collection had become quite substantial and she spotted a beaded periwinkle protruding from the sand. She retrieved it and was happily surprised that it was still intact. She dropped it into her pocket. Continuing her walk she saw an approaching figure in the distance.
As the person came nearer, her heart jumped. The way the man walked was familiar and she realized it was Michael Wainwright. She almost turned around to leave the beach, but curiosity about Belinda's investigation kept her headed toward him. She knew he recognized her when he lifted his hand, waved, and picked up his pace. She responded in like manner.
"Hello, Vicky. I didn't expect to see you here. I figured you'd be spending Thanksgiving with friends."
"I will be later, but the day was so lovely I wanted some fresh air." She hesitated and added, "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Portland with friends and family?"
He studied her face and then smiled sadly. "I have no family except for cousins I never see, who live in Paris. As for friends, I don't have as many as you seem to think."
There was something so revealing in his admission that Vicky felt her heart go out to him. She reeled in her emotions and turned to gaze out to sea. "Has your investigator discovered anything else about Belinda?" She could feel Michael's gaze on her profile.
"He said he'll have another report ready next week."
Vicky whirled to face him again. "Did he say what's in it?"
"No."
They were both silent and then Michael said, "Well, have a pleasant day. I'll mail the report as soon as I receive it." He turned and started back in the direction he had come.
Vicky watched him and then did something utterly crazy. "Michael!" she called out.
He turned around.
"I'm having Thanksgiving at Gabby's B & B. Come with me."
His eyes registered shock as he replied. "I can't barge in."
"Gabby asked me to bring someone," she lied.
An expression that Vicky couldn't quite place spread across his face and it warmed her heart. Immediately, she tamped down that emotion. You're only doing this because he has nowhere to spend the holiday.
Michael filled his plate with second helpings of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, and added another dinner role. For much of the meal he had silently watched the gathering, especially Vicky, and enjoyed a holiday like he had never experienced. For today, it seemed, any animosity toward him had been forgotten. So this is family life.
Although most of the guests were unrelated, there was love and comradery that one would find in a functional family. His dysfunctional one had never had gatherings such as this. Most of his holidays had been spent with nannies when he was young and in boarding school when he was older, but even the few times it had been with family, the animosity his parents had harbored for each other had stifled even normal conversation. After his father's death, his mother had completely rejected him, whereas before, she had tolerated him. Then her suicide had forever locked him into a world consumed by business interests, which was fine with him, because holidays weren't something he wanted to participate in. Well, until recently. For the past two years or so, he'd become dissatisfied with a life many people would envy. According to all accounts he was on top of the world—successful business, wealth, looks, homes, yachts, prestige, yada yada yada.
However, none of that seemed to matter any more. In fact, the more successful he became, the unhappier he found himself. Now, glancing around the homey room full of smiles, laughter, chatter, wonderful scents, and a feast fit for a king, he realized just how empty his life was. He watched James, one of the cooks, cut his youngest son's turkey into smaller bites, and the boy's adoration for his father was palpable. James ruffled his son's hair and then turned to his other son, teasing him about not having room for dessert. His boy responded, "I definitely have room for apple pie, Daddy."
Michael heard Vicky's laughter and shifted his gaze to her. When he'd first met her, he hadn't thought her attractive, although the goodness she'd radiated more than made up for that. Now, he thought she was beautiful and courageous for standing up to him about the resort, and the finest woman he had ever met. Seated across from him she glanced his way, still laughing, and in her eyes he glimpsed what could be his future. She blinked and resumed her conversation with Faith and Baxter.
Earlier in the meal it had been announced that Faith and Baxter had set a date for their wedding, and to everyone's delight, it was to be on New Year's Day. The talk around the table had turned to preparations. Baxter's mother, Gabby, was overjoyed as she discussed the best way to arrange the house for the few guests that would attend and where to place the Christmas tree, since it would still be up on New Year's Day. She glanced at her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law. "Baxter and Faith, why don't we put the tree next to the stairs and have the ceremony in the hallway? That way, Faith can come down the stairs for everyone to see. Then the library could be used for the reception."
Baxter glanced at Faith with a questioning look and she laughed. "Gabby, you can arrange the house any way you want. You're the best dec
orator and planner I've ever met."
The compliment obviously touched Gabby because she dabbed her eye, as if stalling a tear, and said, "Thank you, dearest."
One of the B & B guests asked Faith and Baxter how they met and the conversation took off in another direction.
On the Wednesday after Thanksgiving Vicky received the latest investigative report from Michael and again had to wait until the museum was closed to read it. When she laid it aside she shut her eyes and realized all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. The mysteries surrounding Belinda and Rose Hope were solved.
She reached for the little diary she'd placed on her coffee table and turned to the last few pages.
Every year Randall became more suspicious that Rose was not his child. The fact that she was born early with a normal weight was probably his first clue. Or perhaps he observed longing in my eyes for a man I could never have. Even Sebastian doesn't know Rose is his child, for I know the conflict and guilt would destroy his soul, and his legitimate children and wife need him. He once asked me if she was his, and I vehemently denied the truth.
Whatever the reason, Randall treats me with contempt when we are alone, but respect when we are around others. He is a man with two personalities. And I know the breaking point came when his father, shortly after Rose's birth, divided the cove into three sections, giving the southern peninsula to Randall and the Northern to Sebastian, with the central portion, including its beautiful beach, placed in a trust to be governed by the town's council.
This action by my father-in-law negated all the negotiations, plans, and dreams that Randall had been working toward for years to build a resort on Somewhere's beach, and I can say with certainty that it tipped him over the edge.
