“Oh, what a lovely day. I’m very excited to give this a try,” Mom said as we looked up the path that would lead us to Arthur’s Seat.
They’d wanted to go for a hike. They were now plenty refreshed from the trip across the ocean. The weather could change at any moment, but for the time being there was no rain and my parents wanted to take in the view as soon as possible. To top it all off, it was cool enough to make a good hike enjoyable.
My parents, Wyatt, Artair, Tom, and I were the hikers today. Edwin had declined joining us; I was sure he wanted to try to get in touch with Brodie Watson after yesterday’s meetings, but he wouldn’t give me more details. Hamlet and Rosie had also decided not to come. Rosie wasn’t interested in the hike, and though it was clear that Hamlet was, he had other commitments. When we’d gotten back to the bookshop the day before, Rosie and Hamlet had been the only ones there. My parents, Tom, and Artair had gone off to the Writers’ Museum and then a dinner that kept them out too late for me to try to find a time to apologize.
When we’d gone into the bookshop, I’d looked at Hamlet in a new light. He’d been given a second chance when he’d most needed one. He’d been fortunate, and the rest of us even more so since we had him in our lives.
“Everything all right?” he’d asked after he caught me staring at him with a woeful expression.
I’d smiled and assured him everything was fine. I wasn’t sure he believed me, but further displays of my mushy sentiment were diverted as I remembered how completely terrible I had been.
I’d wanted to grab my mom and apologize the second I saw her, but I hadn’t. Maybe there was a better way to handle my mistake. Maybe I’d find a way along this hike that would help me ease my conscience.
“This looks easy,” Dad said, but there might have been a tiny bit of doubt in his voice.
“The weather is perfect today, at least,” I said.
“Aye,” Tom added.
The sound of an approaching motorcycle pulled our collective attention toward the road. A second later, Reverend Nisa, dressed in leather pants, a leather jacket, and a bright silver helmet, brought her bike to a stop next to Elias’s cab.
I swallowed hard and tried not to paste on a fake smile. It was good to see that she hadn’t been arrested, but I was still surprised she was there. Maybe she’d come by to tell me that as a rule she didn’t officiate weddings whose participants had sicced the police on her. I’d have to go back to searching for someone.
Tom, knowing what I’d done, lowered his voice as he talked to me. “Artair told her we were going on the hike. He called her with a question about some sort of church committee task. She called him back right as we were leaving the museum yesterday, and he told her we were going here today. She said she might join us, but I honestly didn’t think she would. I didn’t even think to mention it tae you.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad she’s here,” I said with more enthusiasm than was probably called for.
“Aye? Very good then,” Tom said as before he greeted our leather-clad officiant.
Introductions were made all around. I was pleased that my conservative parents didn’t behave as if they were bothered by the female, motorcycle-riding reverend. I needed to give them more credit. As I’d shared some Scotland stories with Mom over the year, glad she’d laughed when I wondered if she would protest in silence over some less-than-proper behavior, she’d said, “We do have a television, dear. We both like to read. Our worlds are much bigger than our farm in Kansas. You forget that sometimes.”
She was right.
But, again, I was a terrible daughter.
“Shall I lead the way?” Nisa asked, not even sending me a small sideways glance.
As she, Tom, and Artair fell into their own conversation, and Wyatt set off at his own pace a little ahead of the rest of us, I wrangled my parents, hooking my arms into one of each of theirs.
“I messed up,” I said as I kept a slow enough walk that no one else in our group could hear us.
“How, dear?” Mom asked as Dad sent me some tight eyebrows.
“I totally forgot about the wedding dress,” I said, my heart plummeting with the words.
My grandmother’s simple wedding dress was the same dress my mother had worn to marry my father, in that diner after the barn burned down. It was also the dress she and I had talked about over the years as being the one I would wear when I got married.
“All I can say is that I totally forgot. I don’t know how or why. Maybe Tom’s proposal was just a huge surprise, maybe things have been busy, maybe being in Scotland is like I’ve gone to another place where wedding dress heirlooms don’t exist anymore. Maybe I just plain got so caught up in myself and the wedding that I forgot.”
Dad patted the arm that I’d put through his.
“Oh,” Mom said. “Did Wyatt remind you?”
“He didn’t mean to. He’d told me that you had been clear that you didn’t want anyone to mention the dress.”
“But he did,” she said.
“Kind of, yes,” I said.
“It’s fine, dear,” Mom said, only about 80 percent convincingly.
“No, it isn’t. I mean, I should have at least talked to you about it.”
“You sent me pictures as you tried on wedding dresses. I was included.”
I cringed. Yes, but I hadn’t even thought about the other dress once, not even a “What am I forgetting?” thought. Really, how had it slipped my mind so completely? This had been the thing she’d kept asking me about—what could she bring or send? I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on it even then.
“Yes, and I never once mentioned the other dress.” I stopped walking, causing them to stop too. “Here’s the thing; it would have been the dress I would have chosen to wear. I’m not making that up. I’m just trying to say that I truly and honestly forgot. And, I’m so sorry I was so self-involved.”
Dad patted my arm again, looked at Mom, and then disengaged himself from our trio. He took off in a hurry up toward the other group.
“Delaney, it’s all right.” Mom put her hands on my arms. “My feelings aren’t hurt.”
“But it was rude of me and I apologize.”
“Actually, I think it’s kind of funny.” She let go, but we took off walking up the hill again, slowly.
“You do?” I kept up with her.
“I love what your life has become and I’m so happy we’re here to see the wedding. I remember my own fiasco and I know how it goes.” She paused. “Okay, I’ll be honest, at first I was a little bothered, but not at all anymore. I’m well over the bother and just thrilled. Your brother was just … being your brother, I guess. It’s all good. And, I’m helping Aggie with the cake now, so … I’m just happy to be here.”
“Me too, Mom. Me too.”
“All right, I want to get to know your reverend,” Mom said. “Let’s get up there.”
We hurried to catch up. I felt a little less terrible, but I knew I would always kick myself for forgetting. Maybe Tom and I needed to hurry up and have kids like he wanted, hope for a girl who would grow up and remember to use the dress for her own wedding. Or maybe that was a slightly crazy plan.
Nisa had already had the chance to get to know Tom and me, and it was refreshing to get to know her, particularly since she had neither been arrested nor seemed upset at me because I’d talked to the police about her.
The nonexistent accent I’d noticed was for a reason. She’d only been in Scotland, a reverend at Artair’s church, for five years. Before that she’d grown up in Oregon—yes, that Oregon—making a brief stop at a Texas church before moving to Scotland, the place she’d always wanted to live.
It was precisely as I was thinking about Scottish accents versus Texas accents that a big Texas accent walked toward us. I had to blink twice, wondering if I’d somehow conjured Angus Murdoch. But, though I had a good imagination, it wasn’t that good.
The man was larger than life, with his boots that should have been adorned
with spurs and that ten-gallon hat that towered so high.
“Well, howdy!” he said as Tom and I both nodded toward him and he recognized us. “How about that? Here we are together again! And, hello to you too,” he said as he moved past both Tom and me and extended his hand to Nisa. “Remember me? I stopped by your church the other day.”
“Oh!” Nisa said as she seemed to be trying to process the moment. It looked like she didn’t remember him, but lots of people probably stopped by that church. “Good to see you again.”
Angus put his hands on his hips and tipped his hat back. “I know so few people in this country and it seems we’re all destined to be together.” He laughed. “What are y’all doing? Taking in the sights? I’ll tell you,” he looked at me and nodded up the hill, “if that’s where Camelot was located, that King Arthur fella had some good taste. Whoa, doggies, that’s a beautiful view.”
Once again more introductions were made and I explained the possible connection to the legendary king.
“I can’t wait to see,” Wyatt said before he took off again, on his own.
Angus turned to my parents. “Y’all have a farm in Kansas! Well, thank you for feeding the world, my friends. We’d surely all starve to death if not for folks like you. We’re mighty grateful.”
He was genuine in his over-the-top-ness. I might feel uncomfortable if many people spoke the way he did and seemed to take up all the space in a room, but with Angus it seemed natural.
It was time to be on our way, but as everyone else started up the hill, Angus gently put his hand on my arm and stopped me. “So, did your boss remember anything else about the book?”
It was an oddly intimate gesture and I caught myself before reflexively pulling my arm away. He didn’t mean anything intrusive by the move. Tom sensed my discomfort and hung back with us, keeping close by but appearing unbothered. He’d be bothered if I needed him to be. They all would.
“I don’t think so,” I said. Angus had let go of my arm. “You should call him. He’d be happy to talk to you.”
“I will.” Angus rubbed his chin. “Do you suppose I could ask him to dinner? I’d enjoy getting to know the man. He’s interesting.”
“He’s very interesting. I think he’d enjoy that, if he has the time.”
“Will do.” Angus smiled big at me and then winked at my pub owner before he turned back to me again. “Maybe you can join us.”
I was caught in between not wanting to be rude and not caring. I settled for, “Maybe.” Though he made me uncomfortable, I might have been misinterpreting his actions. “Have a lovely day, Angus.”
“Y’all too,” he said, unfazed. He tipped his hat again, and set off down the hill.
“Ready?” Tom said with a smile.
“I think so.”
The next few seconds were strange: I’d turned to watch Angus walk down the hill just as he was turning away from looking in my direction. He didn’t notice me looking but I felt caught and I flipped back around quickly. As I did so, I caught Nisa looking back at me from higher up. Though, she hadn’t initially been looking at me, I realized when her eyes did a minor readjustment. She smiled when she saw me see her. She’d been looking at Angus too. She and I had both been caught, but I wasn’t sure what we’d been caught doing.
“I’d like to talk to Nisa,” I said to Tom.
“I think that can be arranged.”
We set our sights on the reverend and made our way up the hill.
Nisa smiled at me. “The police came by yesterday evening. I thought it might have been you who told them about Norval and Gavin’s argument and seeing me walking back from Norval’s flat. Well, you or Tom.” She quit smiling. “And, so you know, I shouldn’t have mentioned the argument between Norval and Gavin to you two. I was flustered, and I shouldn’t have let myself become flustered. But there’s confidentiality and all. My timing of leaving the flat was fine, by the way. It was a police officer who let me in, and I told him why I was there—to check the appliances. He stayed by my side as I checked things. They aren’t suspicious of me now, at least as far as I can tell.”
“I’m truly sorry,” I said. “It seemed like the right thing to do, but I’ve been a little sick about it since I said something.”
“It’s okay. I want the police to find Gavin’s killer. I’ll help in any way I can. I really should have told them on my own about whatever might be going on between Gavin and Norval, but I didn’t want to cross any bounds, you know. People are supposed to feel secure that I won’t share their secrets. It’s not confession or anything, but I want to remain trustworthy.”
“Oh dear, I am so sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay. There wasn’t much to tell the police unfortunately. I knew a little of the difficulty between Gavin and Norval, but I was only going to learn the details at our next meeting. I told the police what I could.”
“Any chance you’d want to tell me?” I said, surprised again at myself, but I tried to look unsurprised.
Nisa smiled, almost sympathetically. “No, Delaney, I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“I know, but I thought I’d ask.” I looked up ahead as we’d almost reached the top. “Still okay to officiate at the wedding?”
“Even more so than before, frankly.”
I smiled at Nisa this time. She was either telling the truth or not. If not, she was hiding something big. And I really did like her.
“Oh, Delaney, I would never leave this place if I were you,” Mom said as she turned in a full circle ahead of us.
“No plans to.”
“This. Is. Amazing,” Wyatt said.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Dad said.
While everyone else admired the full view of the city, “from castle tae sea,” as Rosie often described it, I leaned toward Nisa again.
“Not quite like Oregon or Texas, huh?” I said, though I’d never been to either place. Like my mom, though, I watched television and read books.
“No, not quite.”
“You didn’t remember Angus stopping by the church, did you?”
It either took her a second to remember who I was talking about, or she wanted to behave as if she had to try to remember him.
“I didn’t. Was I rude?”
“No. I bet lots of people visit the church.”
“Yes. It’s right there near Dean Village, and the building is beautiful. I think some people are disappointed with the inside. They expect something Old World, but our insides are much more contemporary.”
I nodded. I’d have to take a closer look at the interior of the church myself.
I loved that my parents and my brother were falling in love with Scotland, one old building, one spectacular view at a time. They couldn’t leave their farm in Kansas and Wyatt had his own adult life back in the States, but maybe they would all at least visit me more often. I hoped so.
We made our way back down from Arthur’s Seat; this time my dad and I walked together. It was good to ask him about the farm and be reassured that my mom was in top notch health. So was he, he said, but I’d have to make sure to get the full story on him from Wyatt.
My adult relationship with my family was made up of love and now friendship. It seems like even my decision to up-and-move to Scotland hadn’t disrupted us much.
My dad was the only other person in my family who knew about my bookish voices. He’d been the one to hurry to the school when I was a little girl and the teacher thought something was wrong with me. It turned out my problem was that I loved books, and perhaps took all stories a bit too seriously. I listened and digested the words. They became a part of me, and they spoke to me through my intuition. It wasn’t a terrible problem to have, but my conservative father knew that I probably shouldn’t advertise the exact reason for my distractions.
As we reached the bottom of the hill, Dad patted my arm again.
“He’s a good man, Delaney,” Dad said.
“I’m glad you think so. I think so too.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll kick his butt if he ever breaks your heart.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“And that will be after your brother takes care of him.”
“Good to know.”
“We’ll make sure Tom knows too.”
I hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Daddy.”
TWENTY-SIX
When I’d first arrived in Scotland, I’d hit the ground running. I’d seen some of the sights, taken a few pictures on my phone, explored the city a bit, but I’d never really been a tourist.
However, as we gathered in The Cracked Spine after the hike, I was the epitome of a tourist: two cameras hung around my neck; one was my dad’s and one was mine. Thanks to the hike preparations, I had the perfect walking tennis shoes on, sunglasses, and a cap on my head. Neither the sunglasses nor the cap were necessary for shade any longer because the clouds had arrived and covered the sun, but I looked the part.
“This is the plan.” Dad spread a paper map out on the bookshop’s front desk so I could see it and the lines he’d drawn and the notes he’d made. Mom and Wyatt were at the back table with Rosie and Hector, enjoying some sandwiches from the bakery next door.
I tried to act interested in what my dad was showing me, but my mind was wandering to thoughts of the murder, Norval, Gavin, Nessie—so many things.
Hamlet came through the door at the top of the stairs, carrying the behemoth scrapbook. I tried to give my attention to Dad’s map as I sent lifted eyebrows to my coworker. He nodded toward the back table as if he wanted me to join him there.
He had tucked a folder under his arm. He pointed at it with his chin. He also wanted me to see something.
“Delaney?” Dad said.
“Sorry, Dad. I was wondering what Hamlet was doing with the big scrapbook. It’s got some good stuff in it. Want to see?”
“Uh. Sure.”
We joined the others at the back. Rosie directed Hamlet where to put the scrapbook and asked him, “What’s in the folder?”
“Something from class. I wanted Delaney tae see it.”
The Loch Ness Papers Page 17