We differed in other ways as well. She was lighthearted and silly where I was studious and somber, creative where I was scientific, absentminded where I was laser focused. Yet for all our differences, we got on so well together and always had. The fact that she’d been working with me on this important educational exhibit made it even that much better. Currently, Danielle’s day job was as a freelance “visual merchandiser,” which according to her was just a glorified term for window dresser. She liked her work, but her dream was to be a museum exhibition designer and eventually a curator, goals I had no doubt she would end up achieving. I’d seen pictures of her work, and even her most modest window designs were so good they practically belonged in a museum themselves.
Once we were finished with the movie, she and I spent a little time on the final touches of the display rooms and then passed the rest of the afternoon back outside, doing what we could to help.
Maddee showed up just around the time most of the workers were wrapping things up, so after the requisite squeals and hugs, Danielle and I called an end to our workday as well and the three of us headed to our room, arm in arm, to get cleaned up and ready for dinner. In the distance, we could hear the slam of car doors in the driveway and the chatter of excited voices as more relatives began to arrive. But except for a few hugs for my brothers and their families when they showed up at the guesthouse to drop off their bags, I was happy to start with just my two cousins for now and worry about greeting everyone else later.
A tall and striking redhead, Maddee was the prettiest of the cousins—and that was saying a lot. A classic ugly-duckling-turned-swan, she’d been perpetually freckled as a child, her reddish-brown hair a frizzy mess. As a teen, she shot up to nearly six feet tall and for years was all arms, legs, elbows, and knees—and braces. Thank goodness for Nana’s etiquette classes, because at least Maddee learned at a young age to stand up straight and hold herself in a regal manner. It wasn’t until she was nearing her twenties that she finally began to fill out and sort of grow into herself, and these days, she looked like a fashion model. The fact that she dressed with style and flair—often sporting three-inch heels without a second thought—only served to enhance her appearance. Still, even with all of that, the loveliest things about her were her sweet personality and maternal ways. Perhaps because she’d come to her beauty relatively late in life, she possessed not one ounce of divaness, which was refreshing in one so lovely.
After working outside in the heat for much of the day, I needed to start over with a shower, so once Danielle and Maddee were dressed and ready, they sat on their beds in our room and kept me company while I did my makeup. The topic of Nicole arose right away, as she had yet to appear.
Maddee sighed. “We never know what she’s up to these days.” She looked from me to Danielle and then down at her hands. “She may not be coming at all.”
“What?” Danielle cried, her tone echoing my own surprise. It wasn’t unusual for Nicole to be late, or to show up with alcohol on her breath, but she’d always come eventually. She’d never missed the reunion before. None of us had.
Maddee caught us up on her little sister’s latest drama, but after a while I tuned it out and focused on finishing my face. It was always the same story, back to drinking, probably drugs as well, living with some guy—a classic tale of self-destruction. Maddie had contacted Nicole a few weeks ago to see if she wanted a ride to the reunion. Nicole had said no, that she was going to have to “play it by ear” this year. Both Maddee and her mom had tried reaching out several times since then, but Nicole had stopped answering their calls or responding to their texts a few days ago.
“That tells me she’s going to be a no-show,” Maddee added, “and that she just doesn’t want to hear it.”
Saddened by our conversation, I was glad when we moved on to another subject. Once I was ready, the three of us clustered together and Danielle snapped a selfie. We looked good, if I did say so myself, but an odd thought struck me as I glanced at my two cousins. Between the delicate, ethereal loveliness of Danielle and the tall, striking good looks of Maddee, they were both certain to catch Blake’s eye tomorrow when he came to guard the display. To my surprise, the muscle man had really started to grow on me, and the thought that he’d soon be sharing witty repartee with these two beauties made me feel oddly… disappointed.
Putting such thoughts from my mind for now, I fell in step as we headed to the main house. Inside was happy chaos with everyone greeting each other and doing the how-are-you, you-look-great thing. Once all were present and accounted for, we gathered around the massive dinner table for our first big family meal since the one following Granddad’s funeral seven months ago.
Nana asked Uncle Finley to lead us in prayer, and when he was finished, she rose to give a toast.
“To this amazing family and its brave spirit,” she said, holding up her glass of iced tea. “And to the weekend ahead. May it be full of love, joy, and unity.”
There were “hear, hears” and clinks and sips, and a whole lot of smiles and even a few hugs around the table.
Nana remained standing, and once things quieted down, she raised her glass a second time.
“And to the man,” her voice caught for a moment, but she swallowed hard and then started again. “To the man who should be in the chair at the end of this table,” she said, holding up a glass toward that empty seat, as if Granddad were still there and doing the same in return.
We all grew more solemn as we joined in, the words “to Dad” and “to Granddad” echoing all around. Nana sat and we began our meal. But as it went on, I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering again and again to the second empty chair here, the one across from me, where Nicole should have been sitting and was not.
The next morning I was awake and ready for the big day before either of my roommates even stirred. Blake would arrive at eight, and the relatives would start piling in at nine, so I was glad for the extra time to grab some breakfast, get fixed up, and tend to last-minute details.
As soon as I stepped outside I realized that today was as hot as yesterday but not nearly as muggy—not yet, anyway—which was good. We almost always had nice weather for the reunion weekend.
I entered the house through the front door. Everyone attending the event would come this way to pick up their welcome packet and sign up for a time slot on the Persecution Pamphlet viewing schedule. Then they would move through the entrance hall and out the French doors to the festivities beyond. Those who signed up to see the pamphlet were to return to the laundry room at their designated times, and they would enter in groups of ten to watch the video in the first room, view the pamphlet under glass in the second, and then exit through the mudroom door to the outside.
Excited for the day to start, I grabbed a welcome packet myself and carried it to the dining room, which was blessedly empty and quiet for the moment. Today’s lunch would be served outside, with chefs in tall white hats at carving stations and servers in crisp uniforms hurrying back and forth replenishing the buffet. But this breakfast, a much more modest and mostly unattended spread, was only for those who were staying here at the house, to be eaten at our convenience. I helped myself to a bowl of oatmeal from a steaming Crock-Pot and then topped it with nuts and raisins and a shot of milk.
I would have preferred to eat in the solarium, but I could hear workmen in there, probably hanging up the giant family tree the committee rolled out and added to each year as needed. Instead, grateful to have the room to myself for the moment, I sat facing the windows at one corner of the dining table, said a silent grace, and then enjoyed my breakfast as I looked out on all the preparations.
The grounds beyond the pool area were starting to buzz with activity as a bunch of green-polo-shirted workers from the rental company swarmed across the yard, setting up large white canopy tents that would provide extra shade. Others were bringing in rented tables and chairs that would go under them.
I turned my attention to the welcome packet, pulling ou
t the contents and skimming through everything. It all looked great, as usual. There was a map of the house and grounds showing the various activity stations and a schedule of events packed with all sorts of fun, including the Talbot Family Olympics and the Annual Talbot Talent Show. This year’s main event, however, was the ceremony. It would be held tomorrow, in the backyard, with our top dignitaries seated on a rented dais and everyone else watching from chairs under the big white tents.
So that the pamphlet would not have to be exposed to the elements, I’d made a facsimile of it, and the plan was for Uncle Finley and Nana to symbolically present that to the director of the museum during the ceremony. Then, once it was over, a few of us were to proceed to the study, where we’d retrieve the actual document from the safe and hand it over for real.
Just the thought of that special moment brought bittersweet tears to my eyes. Blinking them away, I finished my breakfast, cleared my dishes, and headed for the viewing rooms—or at least that was my intention. It wasn’t yet eight a.m., but already the check-in ladies were assembling in the main hallway, and between them and the aunts and uncles and cousins who were coming down to eat, I was waylaid several times.
Nana was there too, impeccably dressed and coiffed as usual, and though she seemed excited, there was a distinct sadness in her eyes. Impulsively, I pulled her in for a big hug.
“I miss him too,” I whispered before letting go.
We shared a teary smile—what was it with me and tears this morning?—and then she surprised me by placing a hand on my cheek and holding it there for a long moment, soft and papery and cool, as she gazed lovingly into my eyes. She’d never been overly demonstrative, so the tenderness of the gesture made it even more special to me.
Our moment was interrupted from one direction by my parents, who were just coming down for breakfast themselves, and the other by a fresh batch of volunteers feeding in through the front door.
I loved seeing my family like this each year, but making pleasant conversation with so many people at once was draining for me, especially when I still had things to do. It didn’t help matters when some of the youngest relatives, excited to be together again, started running up and down the broad hallway, weaving in and out between our legs, giggling all the while. Feeling flushed and overwhelmed, I longed for the quiet of my lab back home but was willing to settle for the display rooms right now—if only I could get to them. Attempting again to extricate myself, with one last dash I finally made it.
Pulling the door shut firmly behind me, I sat in the nearest chair in the empty room, closed my eyes, and tried to catch my breath. I was starting to feel better a few minutes later when Danielle came in from the outside door, looking lovely in a pale pink sundress and strappy sandals.
“Hey, you,” she said, wiggling a flash drive at me. “I added some last-minute tweaks to the movie and wanted to run through part of it again on the big screen. Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not interrupting? You look like you’re in the middle of something.”
I smiled. “Yeah. I was recovering.”
“From?”
“Let’s see. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re getting so much older!’ ‘Honey, you’re just so thin, do you ever eat?’ ‘Looks like you’ve put on a few pounds since last year, Renee. Are you eating too much?’ ”
Danielle laughed. “Oh, boy. I can’t wait.” Glancing around, she spotted the ladder, now propped against the wall, and moved it over under the projector.
“And then there’s my favorite,” I continued. “ ‘Are you seeing anyone?’ I got that three times. This last time, they added, ‘Are you seeing anyone? Because you’re not getting any younger, you know.’ ”
With a groan, Danielle started up the ladder. Moving closer, I held it steady while she worked.
“So are you?” she asked after a moment.
“Am I what?”
“Seeing someone? I noticed you didn’t volunteer any info last night when Maddee and I were dishing about our love lives.”
For some reason I found myself hesitating. The answer was no, and yet not only was that word suddenly stuck in my throat, but I could feel my cheeks turning a vivid red.
In the the absence of a reply, Danielle glanced down at me and then did a double take. Mortified, I turned my face away.
“Renee!” she cried eagerly, abandoning her task and climbing halfway down. “What are you not telling me? I know that expression. There is someone, isn’t there?”
“No!” I blurted out, the word finally popping from my throat like a piece of bread after a Heimlich maneuver.
She came down the rest of the way and stood her ground in front of me, hands on her hips. “Oh, yeah? This is me you’re talking too, cuz. I see all, I know all, remember? Now spill.”
I let go of the ladder, taking a step back. “I’m not dating anybody, I promise.”
“But…”
This was so embarrassing. “But… okay, fine. I did meet someone just recently who seems kind of interesting. “
“Mm-hmm,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And what’s his name?”
I pinched a finger to my thumb and slid them across my lips like a zipper.
“Got it. So you think what’s-his-name is ‘interesting’ but otherwise nothing’s happened? You haven’t gone out yet?”
I shook my head, feeling fourteen. “We only just met.”
“Yeah, but what’s the real holdup?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s not my type. Like, not at all.”
“How so?”
To my relief, she turned back toward the ladder and began to climb it again.
“Well, he’s kind of… um… well, built. Really built. Like big muscles, big neck, big arms. All brawn, no brains, you know? At least, that’s what I thought at first. But then we started talking and…” My voice trailed off as I realized how ridiculous I was sounding. I hardly knew anything about the man. “It’s dumb. Really. I doubt it’s even mutual. Besides, he doesn’t live near me, so it’s not like we could date or anything.”
At that moment, the door to the hallway swung open and there stood Blake Keller. Silhouetted against the bright morning light pouring in from the windows behind him, he looked like some sort of Adonis poised on the horizon. Then he moved further inside the room and shut the door, turning back into himself again.
Not that he wasn’t an Adonis in his own right.
CHAPTER TEN
Renee
Good morning,” I said to Blake, drawing on every speck of summer etiquette camp I could muster to stay right where I was rather than walk away and start fiddling with the pleats on the nearest fabric panel or straightening the rows of chairs.
“Good morning, Talbot,” he replied, his eyes sparkling as they lingered on mine.
Ignoring the flirty nature of his gaze, I turned toward Danielle, who had come back down the ladder and was waiting for an introduction. “Blake, this is my cousin Danielle Talbot. Danielle, this is Blake Keller.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, turning that handsome gaze toward her. He was looking good—maybe too good—in a slim-cut navy jacket, light blue shirt, and subtly striped tie.
“You too,” she replied, shaking hands and giving him her prettiest smile.
Oh, who was I kidding? He could never be interested in someone like me with someone like her around. And the minute Maddee showed up, well, that would seal the deal. Not that either one of them were man-stealers by any means—nor that this guy was even mine to steal in the first place. But still. It was ludicrous to believe he might look my way again once he’d met the two of them.
Feeling disheartened but trying not to let it show, I explained to Danielle that Blake was with Nana’s insurance company and had been charged with protecting the Persecution Pamphlet until tomorrow’s ceremony.
“Cool. Like, standing guard and everything?” she asked, her eyelashes looking ridiculously long and full.
“Actually,
I have a guy to do that, but I’ll be spelling him once in a while. Otherwise, I’ll be sort of here and there, just keeping an eye on things.”
He flashed me a quick smile, but I found myself incapable of giving him one in return.
“Danielle is the one who did the posters,” I said instead, trying to cover my awkwardness. “And the film too.”
“Oh, so you’re the artist, huh? Your grandmother mentioned you. I have to say, you look almost exactly like I expected you would.” With a quick glance at me, he added, “Then again, I’m kind of uncanny that way. I always know what to expect when meeting new people.”
I waited a beat. “Yeah, it’s his superpower,” I said dryly, a flutter running through me at our shared private joke.
We were interrupted by the ding of an incoming text. Blake pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen before excusing himself, saying his “guy” had arrived. With that, he went out the way he’d come in, leaving behind a silence so loud I could almost hear the grass growing outside.
“Lots to get done!” I said quickly, turning on my heel and moving as fast as I could into the other room.
“Yeah, like that’s going to save you,” Danielle replied with a giggle, hot on my heels.
My face burning, I reached behind a fabric panel to grab a rag and the bottle of cleaner Dr. Underwood had left for me, and then turned and went to town on the display cabinet.
“Honey. Seriously. You call that ‘interesting’?” Her tone was hushed but eager. “I call that prime rib with lobster on the side. Are you kidding me? He’s gorgeous. And totally into you, by the way.”
“No, he’s not.” My hands went still, but I couldn’t meet my cousin’s eyes. “Is he?”
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