by Winnie Reed
“Not at all. Don’t think I don’t know the psychology behind my falling in love with a man your father’s age, either.” She had a sense of humor about it, at least, or appeared to. I didn’t know if I should laugh along with her or stay serious. I decided on a faint smile.
“I’m close with Dad, though Mom and I have always been closer. Darcy was Daddy’s girl through and through. She adored him. He was her hero. Maybe because he was always busy with work—she clung to him when he was with us. She would’ve done anything to get his attention and keep it. When they divorced, it shocked her. I mean it really rocked her world, even though we were both grown up by then. She had this image in her head, you know?”
She nodded slowly. “Sure. I never knew my father, but of course I wanted him to be this rugged, handsome hero. Strong and solid and loving. Something happened to him, something kept him away from me. The things we tell ourselves when we’re young.” She tapped the side of her head. “It stays there.”
“I guess that’s why I’ve adjusted more quickly than she has. I keep trying to get her to at least talk to him, but she shuts me down. I hope now she’ll feel like there’s more of a reason to do it.”
“Or more of a reason to avoid him,” Holly fretted.
“Leave it to me. You don’t need anything to worry about now. Just think about my brother or sister, okay?”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Whichever they happen to be, they’re already lucky to have you as their big sister.”
“Okay, let’s not both start crying!” I dabbed my eyes, then leaned in for a kiss from Lola. She sensed I was feeling emotional. When Holly reached over for a pet, she licked her palm.
“Be careful. I might kidnap this one,” Holly grinned.
“Hey, if you’d be okay with it, I’d love to leave her with you guys while I’m on one of my trips. I usually leave her with Mom or Darcy, but it’s not like I have a contract with them or anything.” Did I shoot myself in the foot by saying it? Probably. Would Mom act like I’d delivered a personal affront if and when she found out Lola—her grandpuppy—was with the enemy? Probably.
Did I have a bad habit of going out of my way to make other people happy? More than probably.
The food came then, which Holly dug into with a level of intensity I’d never seen from her. The baby had definitely affected her appetite. “You want some fries? There’s so many, they’re practically falling off the plate.”
“Maybe just a couple.” She proceeded to dip a fry into her milkshake like it was ketchup. My kind of girl.
“Hey. Do you think it would be okay for me to visit the Montbatten house while you’re there sometime? I won’t touch anything. I promise. I’m sort of obsessed with it right now.”
“The picture you were talking about?”
“Yeah. Besides, I’ve always wanted to go in there. It’s gotta be stunning inside.”
“Oh, it is. Breathtaking. Sure, you can come by any time you want. Just let me know.” She dunked another fry. “I wish they hadn’t cleared the house of Millicent’s possessions after she died. It would’ve been nice to have a room dedicated to her, the last Montbatten. How she lived, what she liked. She was a huge reader, from what I understand, and her book collection was extensive. Now, it’s gone.”
“Really?” There went that hive of bees in my head, kicked over again by the most innocent comment. “Ooh, I wonder if the book that picture was in belonged to her! It would make perfect sense. Mom said the girl in it resembled her. I didn’t find any pictures of her in the papers I looked through at the library.”
“There you go, jumping in feet first.” She shook her head with a smile. “By now, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Chapter Ten
“It must be cool, working around books all day,” Raina mused as we walked down Main Street.
“Darcy would probably say the same about your line of work—heck, so would I,” I added with a snort.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do, and I’m lucky. Still, I’d love the chance to be surrounded by books every day.” She made grabby hands. “Maybe I should’ve brought a tote with me to carry some home.”
“Darce will be more than happy to sell you one with the First Edition logo printed on it,” I pointed out with a smirk. “Go nuts.”
“I just might. Remind me why we absolutely have to stop by right this very minute, though? Not that I mind,” she added. “But it would’ve been nice to take a minute and sit down before you dragged me from the apartment.”
“I’d hardly say I dragged you. We’re going to see if there are any more books like the one I found the other day. I don’t think anybody’s come to take them away yet. I remember seeing more than a few old ones scattered around.”
“You think the books belonged to this Millicent person?”
“I have a hunch. Holly said her possessions were cleared out when she died. Darcy had just opened the shop around that time. Some of the used books have been sitting there for years. Millicent’s could be among them. I’m almost completely sure the one I found was hers. Why else would there be a picture of her in there?”
“You still don’t know it was her. You only think it was.”
“Hmm.” I eyed her warily as we crossed the street, arriving at the block where the café and bookstore sat side-by-side. “Maybe I should’ve left you at the apartment, after all.”
“Hush.” She tossed her impressive mane of chocolate hair over one shoulder. “You know I’m always down for a mystery. I don’t want to see you get your hopes up, is all. This might turn out to be nothing.”
“Or it might turn out to be something huge!”
“I love you.” She slung an arm around my waist. “I really do. And I’ve missed you. Rome is nice, but hanging out with you is like therapy.”
“I don’t know if that feels like a compliment or what.”
“I meant it as one. You center me. And my energy’s always peppier when we’re together.”
“Good. I’ll need you to be peppy and energetic when we eat pizza with Detective Joe on the boardwalk.”
“What?” she asked as I opened the door to the store.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I whispered, ignoring her pointed stare in favor of looking for Darcy. She, like Mom, would’ve done herself a favor by hiring more help. One of the two high school girls she’d brought on for the summer had register duty, while Darcy helped one of several customers clamoring for her attention.
“It’s so good to see her,” Raina murmured. And it was, even if my sister looked completely frazzled. I knew she thrived on it, the way Mom did. We hung back, perusing a few books, until the rush calmed a little.
And she turned to us.
And the temperature dropped a good twenty degrees.
Raina didn’t notice, probably because the chill wasn’t directed at her. “Hi!” She gave Darcy a hug. “It’s good to see you! This place is jumping!”
“It’s been like this the last few days,” Darcy grinned. “It’s exhausting, but I’d be crazy to complain.”
“Uh, hi?” I muttered, waving a hand since my sister had yet to acknowledge me.
“Hey.” She turned her attention back to Raina. “I didn’t know you were coming to town.”
“It was sort of a sudden decision,” Raina explained. She was starting to get a feel for what was going on, clearly, and she sounded uncomfortable. I couldn’t blame her.
“Well, it’s not like Emma would’ve told me even if you’d made plans in advance. She tends not to tell me things.”
“Okay.” Raina looked from her to me and back again. “Uh, can you direct me to the used books which haven’t been donated yet? We were hoping to find some old books like the one Emma found. The one with the photo in it.”
“Oh, sure.” Darcy pointed toward the back corner of the shop, where the boxes still waited behind a makeshift barricade so nobody would get hurt. “I remember seeing a bunch of those old books, with the old bindings and covers. But the
y’re all mixed up in different boxes.”
“It’s okay. I have plenty of time.” She wasted no time hurrying away, obviously wanting to get away from us.
“I’m really busy, as you can see.” It would’ve been nice to believe my sister didn’t mean to bump into me as she passed, but I wasn’t naïve.
“We obviously need to talk,” I whispered, following her.
“Now isn’t the time.”
“No. You’d rather be childish.”
She whirled on me, which was awkward since I was much closer than she expected. We bumped into each other. “I’m at work, Emma. I know you have a hard time understanding that the entire world doesn’t stop turning for you.”
“Where is this coming from? What, is it because I wanted to wait to tell you about the baby? I’m sorry you found out the way you did.”
“And you just had to have lunch with her today, didn’t you? Right out there on the sidewalk, where everybody could see.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”
I almost laughed, it struck me as so ridiculous. “Darce! You sound like I was dancing naked for all the world to see! Holy jeez.”
“You’re spitting in Mom’s face by doing that,” she hissed.
“I’m not. I’m trying to be nice. To Dad’s girlfriend. To the mother of our baby sibling.”
“Half-sibling.” Her jaw was set hard enough to crack a walnut.
I was speechless. Sure, she was never unclear on her feelings about Dad and the divorce. But this? I was glad when a customer approached with a question for her to answer. In the blink of an eye, she went back to her normal, helpful, cheerful self.
But that didn’t last long. She turned to me again, and her eyes were spitting fire. “We already know which side you fall on. You don’t need to flaunt it in front of everybody.”
It took a real struggle to contain myself. Years of trying to gently talk her into being mature came flooding back at once. Years of being patient, trying to encourage her, being aware of her feelings smacked crashed into me like a wave.
I took her by the arm and pulled her away from the busier section we stood in, then practically shoved her into the corner. Enough was enough. “Darcy, I love you very much. But you need to grow up. You talk about me thinking the world stops when I want it to, but look at you. You expect me to be cold and ignorant toward a really nice, sweet person who just wants to be happy. And she makes Dad happy—very happy. He loves her. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you anymore.”
Her breath caught. “Don’t even—”
“I’m still talking,” I hissed. “I’m sick to death of tiptoeing around you on this. I won’t ignore her. I won’t be mean. I’ll support her, because we both love Dad. That gives us something in common. And if you’d grow up for a minute and remember the divorce had nothing to do with you, you’d figure out everything you’re missing out on by closing them out of your life.”
“It had nothing to do with me?” she whispered, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah. You were in your twenties, for God’s sake. We’re not the result of a broken home. They did their best, both of them, for our sake. This isn’t about you. Stop acting like you only care about Mom, because we both know that’s not true.”
Her face fell. “You need to get out of here. Now.”
“Gladly.” I spun on my heel and marched out, tears of rage blurring my vision. Raina saw me—I caught her out of the corner of my eye, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open.
Rather than wait for her, I walked outside and doubled back around the building through the alley, which led me to the back door of the café. It was unlocked, the way Mom usually left it during the day in case deliveries came through.
She must’ve heard me slam the door closed, since she joined me roughly three seconds later, just as I was flopping down on a stool and resting my head on my arms against the prep table. The metal was blessedly cool compared to the flush on my cheeks.
“Honey! What’s the matter?” Mom was by my side in a second, arms around me. “What happened?”
“I’m so mad at her!” I gasped. “I’ve never been so mad at her!”
“Your sister?” She clicked her tongue. “Yes, she came over to tell me about your lunch with Holly.”
“Don’t tell me you’re mad, too,” I begged, my head still down.
“Not at all. It’s just the sort of thing you would do.” She hugged me, sighing. “I don’t blame that girl. I don’t. I can’t see us ever being friends, exactly, but I can at least appreciate you making the effort to be friends. You’re braver than I ever was.”
“Braver?” I lifted my head, and she ran her hands over my cheeks to loosen the strands of hair that were stuck on them thanks to my tears. It reminded me of being little again, sweaty and suddenly heartsick, needing Mom’s calm and love.
“Sure! Sitting out there with her, for everyone to see. Sending a message. I’m so proud of you.” She kissed my forehead. “No matter how many times I remind people that I don’t hold anything against Holly, they can’t stop supposedly freezing her out on my account. I thought things were getting better. But now…”
“It’s like the early days all over again. I know.”
“Wash your face, cool yourself down.” Another kiss, then she hurried back out to the counter.
I did as she ordered, and the cold water I used to splash my cheeks did wonders. Nobody could upset me worse than Darcy, probably because we normally got along so well.
Minutes later, I was weighing dry ingredients for the goods that would be baked for the following day—baking, even prep work, always calmed me—when Raina walked in from the dining room. “Wow. I think I’m glad I wasn’t there for what happened. I hope you’re not mad over my ducking away.”
“Not at all.” I set aside the muffin ingredients after whisking them together. “It wasn’t your fight. You don’t need to get in the middle of my family stuff.”
“Well, I don’t have a sister so I have no idea what you’re going through. But!” She wiggled her fingers around in my face. “I come bearing gifts. A gift. One gift.”
I had to laugh. “What did you find?”
She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a book. Like the one I’d found, it was without a dust jacket and its cover was well-worn. “Is this the sort of thing you were looking for?”
“Sure!” I flipped it open. Wuthering Heights. “I wonder if this was hers. The cover’s all rubbed clean, just like The Scarlett Letter.” I shook the pages, disappointed when nothing came out. “Oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I was hoping there was something inside. Another picture. Something.”
“Oh, there totally was.” Her smile was wicked, knowing, as she reached back into her bag.
“You jerk!”
“Hey. I don’t like to reveal everything at once.”
“That makes me feel sorry for Nate.”
She scowled. “There are knives nearby. Watch it. I might not even give you this letter that I found tucked inside the book.”
My eyes almost fell out. “A letter?”
Chapter Eleven
Frank,
By now, you know of my condition. You can’t imagine the disappointment I suffered—and still suffer—now that I know for certain how you feel about the matter.
About myself, as well.
Could you have played me false all along? Were your loving words nothing but a sweet lie? I know well of the lies men tell women when it comes to such situations as ours. I never thought I’d be one of them.
Is that what hurts worst of all? Knowing what a fool I was? How I believed you. How I trusted you. I opened myself to you in every possible way, and you used me for your pleasure. You said all the right things. The look in your eye spoke of love.
What an actor you are. You might make your living on the stage or in the movies. Your mantel would collapse under the weight of so many awards. How could you do this to me
? Did those days in the garden mean nothing? Can you honestly say it was all a charade on your part?
You’ve left me with nothing. With no one. The child will be surrendered for adoption upon birth—Father has arranged for that. To think! I feared he would kill you when he sought you out. I demanded to join him. How I wept, pleaded, swearing over the truth of our love.
He was right all along. You were a cad. You thought you might use me, perhaps gain a bit of my fortune, and run away. Now, you’ll receive nothing. Not even the sight of your child. Our child.
I would say I hate you but you are beneath hatred. Beneath loathing. You do not deserve my hatred.
“There’s no signature,” I whispered. “It ends there.”
“Holy smokes.” Raina drew her feet up under her, a glass of wine in one hand. We were both in our pajamas with a pizza from the shop downstairs on the coffee table. Lola danced around, hoping to get lucky with a dropped bit of pepperoni or cheese.
Like I wanted to deal with the issues that would stir up.
“I mean, the paper’s practically burning up in my hand.” I snickered, turning it around to look at the blank back side. “The poor girl.”
“No signature?”
“None.” And the envelope was blank, too. Fragile, yellowed with age. “She wrote it, but never sent it or even finished the thing.”
“Maybe this was a draft. Nothing more. She might’ve written another one and sent it off.” Raina huffed. “I hope she did. I hope she did worse than that. Frank. I never did like that name.”
I was careful to put the letter back in its envelope, then tucked it into the book where it had sat since who knew when. Maybe since the day she wrote it. Poor girl.
Once the letter was safe, I sat down to eat another slice. “Did you see how happy Mr. Angelo was to see me?” I laughed. “Goes to show you how often I was down there in the weeks after the breakup. I might as well have set up an air mattress on the floor.”
“I can understand why you would. This is good stuff.” She paused before biting into her second slice. “Oh, hold up. Didn’t you say Joe wanted to have pizza on the boardwalk?”
