“That evening,” Bertha said, “I was passing the office and heard her talking to Mr. Martin about her will. Oh, they used to argue so about whether Hugh or Edward should run the businesses, or who should run the biggest one, and so on. Mr. Martin wanted the boys to work together, which is what they’ve been doing. They disagree most of the time, but it didn’t matter because Ms. Clarisse was in charge.”
“And now she isn’t,” Olivia said.
“I heard her tell Mr. Martin she wanted to change her will and leave one of them in charge, but she hadn’t decided which one. She knew Mr. Martin would pick Hugh, if he had to pick, but Clarisse thought Edward worked harder.”
Olivia didn’t know Hugh and Edward very well, since they spent most of their time running the family businesses. “I don’t understand—do you think this has something to do with her death?”
With an impatient shake of her head, Bertha gathered up the dirty plates and shifted them to the kitchen counter. “I’m not sure what to think, only Ms. Clarisse was all of a sudden talking about grandchildren. I don’t know why she didn’t like Tammy; that girl would have brought some life to this house. If Ms. Clarisse wanted grandchildren soon, why did she make Hugh break up with Tammy?”
Yet only a few hours earlier, Tammy had shown off her new dress to Olivia, delirious with joy in anticipation of wearing it for Hugh Chamberlain. “And why did Clarisse mention me?”
Bertha looked at her with surprise. “Well, you know how much she loved you. I heard her say she wanted one of the boys to marry you. I heard her clear as day, talking to that picture. She said, ‘I’d never trust Tammy Deacons to handle a situation like this, but Livie could do it. Now all I have to do is find her.’ That’s the only time I thought Ms. Clarisse might be going round the bend—I mean, she only had to go to The Gingerbread House to find you. Does that make any sense?”
“Not to me,” Olivia said. “Not to me.”
Chapter Four
Olivia found herself muttering as she and Spunky finished a chilly and hurried Saturday morning walk. Normally she kept her thoughts confined within her own mind, so this was not a good sign. Could it be true that Clarisse had wanted Olivia to marry one of her two sons? In the abstract, this wasn’t an unnatural desire on Clarisse’s part. Knowing of Olivia’s divorce, Clarisse might have avoided any reference to the notion, waiting for time to heal.
Spunky yapped sharply, and Olivia realized she’d stopped walking. “Sorry, Spunks, Mom’s a bit distracted,” she said. Which isn’t like me. Maddie was the distractible one, the creative genius chasing after every sparkling idea that flashed across her brain. Olivia focused. She observed, gathered information, considered options, handled situations. She was good at reading people, which had served her well in her business ventures. With a chagrined jolt, Olivia realized that, when it came to understanding Clarisse, these skills might have let her down.
What else had she misunderstood about Clarisse? Was it possible she’d missed the earlier signs that Clarisse was upset and distracted? Distracted enough to drink an entire bottle of wine and lose track of how many pills she’d taken?
A car honked three times with staccato insistence, and Olivia’s feet nearly flew off the pavement.
“Hey, Sis. Thinking of crossing the street anytime this millennium?” Olivia’s brother, Jason, poked his head through the open window of his pick-up truck and gave her The Look. Olivia had once tried to explain The Look to Maddie. Without the benefit of siblinghood, however, Maddie didn’t get it.
Olivia had been standing at a crosswalk like a life-size sculpture, lost in doubt. Spunky must have grown concerned, because he’d sat quietly on the pavement, gazing up at her. Probably wondering if it was time to hit the road and find a more reliable human companion.
A van filled with squabbling children stopped behind the pickup truck. The driver, a thirtyish woman with clumps of blonde hair escaping from a ponytail, narrowed her eyes at Jason. With the speed and precision of a race car driver, Jason maneuvered his truck to the curb next to Olivia. The woman hit her accelerator with a force that sucked the children against the backs of their seats. Instinctively, Olivia gathered Spunky into her arms and held him tightly.
When Jason’s curly brown head poked through the car window, Olivia leaned toward him and said, “Morning, Baby Brother. Late for work again?”
“Oh geez.” Jason checked his dashboard clock, as Olivia knew he would. Jason had no sense of time. In a moment, he reappeared. “You got me,” he said. “I’m twenty minutes early. So we’re even?”
“For now.”
“Listen, Livie, I heard about Clarisse. That’s raw.”
Olivia nodded. “Raw” was a good word for it. Sometimes Jason could show amazing empathy.
“Well, gotta roll. Later.”
Or not.
Except for a wave of sadness when she arranged the vintage cookie cutters in their curio cabinet, Olivia pushed her grief and confusion well to the back of her thoughts. She needed to concentrate on all the last-minute preparations for the store’s spring event. By eight forty-five, fifteen minutes before opening, Olivia pushed up a west-facing window and poked her head out. A perfect day for a spring cookie extravaganza. The sky had cleared to a cornflower blue, and rows of red tulips, planted the previous fall along the front walk, had opened their petals to the sun.
From her vantage point, Olivia had a side view of the Chatterley Café entrance. A line of customers, waiting for tables, snaked out the door and down the sidewalk in her direction. Even for a spring-scented Saturday, this was impressive. A slender young woman in a swinging skirt emerged from the café and appeared to be heading toward the store. Her brisk, graceful stride looked familiar. As she approached, Olivia recognized the sleek blonde hair and air of determination. Tammy Deacons was about to be her first customer. Olivia had a sinking feeling that a discussion of cookie cutters was not on Tammy’s agenda.
Olivia started to shut the window, but she was too late. Tammy caught sight of her and began to wave as if she were marooned on an island and The Gingerbread House was the only plane in the sky. With a twinge of guilt, Olivia closed the window and detoured to the kitchen. “Tammy is heading this way,” she warned Maddie, who was finishing up a display of her flower cutout cookies.
Maddie paused in the act of placing a magenta sunflower next to a forest green daisy with leaf green polka dots. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll leave her to you. Besides, I have to change.” When Maddie said she had to “change,” it wasn’t into a clean T-shirt and jeans. She had the ability to create a persona, to morph into an entirely different being. When the two of them went antiquing together, Olivia hunted down the scattered displays of used cookie cutters, while Maddie went straight for the vintage clothing. She might buy a nightgown, a 1950s shirtwaist dress, a few scarves, then set to work on them. When Maddie appeared in the resulting outfit, she’d transformed herself into a garden gnome or a teapot or some creature never seen before on this planet.
As Olivia returned to the sales area, she heard a firm knock on the front door. The store opened in ten minutes, and she had yet to clear a display space for Maddie’s decorated flower cookies, add money to the cash register . . . Get a grip, Livie. Life on the planet wasn’t likely to end if The Gingerbread House opened a few minutes late. Besides, if Tammy insisted on a chat, she could tag along while Olivia finished her preparations.
Knowing Tammy’s impatience when she had something on her mind, Olivia called out, “Just a minute,” as she headed across the crowded store. She flipped the lock, opened the door, and said, “Hi, Ta—.” She found herself looking at broad shoulders encased in plaid flannel. She raised her eyes about six inches to Lucas Ashford’s chiseled features.
“Lucas! I thought . . .”
“Sorry, Livie, I didn’t mean to startle you, and I know you’re about to open, so you’re busy. I was wondering . . .” With his muscular arms and shy manner, Lucas reminded Olivia of a lumberjack, more comfortabl
e in the forest with the deer and squirrels than with other humans. It always surprised her when he spoke in compound sentences.
“We have to open in about ten minutes,” Olivia said, glancing around at the still unprepared store. “We could talk after that, once Maddie is on the floor to help.” When she turned back to Lucas, Olivia realized his eyes were focused on the kitchen door.
Lucas uttered a confused “Uh,” and, with obvious reluctance, returned his sea green gaze to Olivia’s face. “Well, I was actually sort of wondering if Maddie had a minute before, you know . . . I mean, I know she’s busy getting ready for your . . .”
Olivia suspected he was searching for a more specific term than “thing.” She took pity on him. “Our spring event, yes, she is, but I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.” An understatement by about twelve miles, but she decided not to give Lucas reason to be overconfident. Maddie could do that all by herself.
“You know,” Olivia said, “Maddie hangs out in the kitchen, and you are always welcome to knock on the alley door.”
“She didn’t answer,” Lucas said. His dark eyebrows slid together, giving his face a worried expression, as if he believed Maddie might be ignoring him on purpose. Really, the man hadn’t the slightest insight into his effect on women. Best to keep him that way.
“She was probably getting into her costume,” Olivia said. “I’ll see if she’s dressed.” As she turned around, the kitchen door opened and out walked a vision. Of what, Olivia wasn’t certain.
“Hey there, Lucas,” Maddie said, sounding pleased and oh so casual. “So? Have I outdone myself or what?” She twirled once and sashayed toward them. Sunshine yellow leotards encased her body from modest neckline to yellow ballet slippers, showing off her generous curves. A short, vivid blue skirt barely preserved her modesty. Around her neck, she wore a necklace of blue silk ribbon woven through small, flower-shaped cookie cutters used as charms, which tinkled as they bumped together.
As Maddie glided through the numerous displays of cookie cutters and baking supplies, Olivia stole a peek at Lucas’s face. His smile spread like flood icing until it nearly reached his ears. “So who am I?” Maddie asked, striking a regal pose.
“A moveable garden?” Olivia guessed. “A sun nymph? Queen of the universe?”
“Nice tries, Livie, but so pedestrian. I am, of course, the newest and most flamboyant of the earth goddesses, the bringer of cookie flowers to those who ask politely. Only I need a name.”
“You’ll think of one,” Olivia said.
Maddie reached into a pale yellow hobo bag hanging over her shoulder. She brought out a blue daisy decorated with yellow and navy polka dots. “A cookie for your thoughts, young Lucas,” she said.
“Um.”
Maddie held the cookie closer to him. “And?”
“Well . . . You look great!”
“I was going for ‘delicious’ or perhaps ‘luscious,’ but ‘great’ will work.” Maddie handed Lucas the cookie, which he accepted without taking his eyes off her.
“And my name shall be?” When Maddie tilted her head and gazed up at Lucas, the light caught green sparkles in her froth of red hair. “I was thinking of ‘Glorious.’ Is that too over-the-top?”
“I like it,” Lucas said, and took a bite of his cookie.
Olivia made a mental note not to suffer a life-threatening emergency if Maddie and Lucas were the only ones available to call for help.
Meanwhile, the minutes were ticking away. “Why don’t you two head for the kitchen,” Olivia said. “I have to finish out here. Maddie, we’ll open in seven minutes, okay? Are you ready?”
Maddie tore her attention from Lucas. “Naturally,” she said, lifting her eyebrows at Olivia. “When have I not been ready in plenty of time?”
The nickname Last-Minute Maddie came to mind, but Olivia thought it best to leave it unsaid.
Maddie took Lucas by the hand and led him toward the kitchen. He reminded Olivia of a huge little boy being taken off to choose his first pony.
While she hurriedly counted bills into the cash register and checked the receipt, Olivia found herself wondering about Lucas Ashford. For such an attractive man, Lucas had left very little impression on her over the years. He was somewhat older, so they hadn’t crossed paths much in high school. She remembered him as a quiet boy, good-looking even then, but not one to chase the girls. As far as she remembered, he hadn’t participated in any sports, despite his height and strong build. She’d seen him working at his parents’ hardware store more often than at school events.
If Lucas had ever been deeply involved with a woman, Olivia hadn’t heard about it. Not that she’d been around all that much after high school. Her mother would be the one to ask. It was a conversation worth having, Olivia decided. For some reason, as yet unclear, she was feeling protective of Maddie. Well, she was her best friend, after all, but it was more than that. Maddie had been engaged, right out of high school, to her first boyfriend, and it hadn’t turned out well. Olivia had spent the summer following graduation helping Maddie piece herself together again. To others, Maddie might seem open to whatever life had to offer, but she had a well-earned cautious streak. Until a few minutes ago, Olivia had assumed Maddie’s ongoing crush on Lucas to be her way of staying in a safe zone, since he seemed unlikely to notice her flirting, let alone respond in kind.
Now, it seemed, the situation had changed. Olivia shifted to mother-hen mode, and protectiveness came with the package.
With one minute to spare, Olivia took a quick walk around the store to make sure all was in place. She was heading back toward the front when she heard a firm knock on the door. Expecting a customer with a fast watch, Olivia opened the door wide. And there stood Tammy, fist raised to knock again. She’d forgotten all about seeing Tammy march toward The Gingerbread House.
“Hi there,” Olivia said. “Weren’t you headed this way about twenty minutes ago? I could have sworn it was you.”
“Of course it was,” Tammy said. She pushed past Olivia and closed the front door behind her. “You can open a minute or two late, can’t you? I can’t stand the suspense, tell me what happened.” At the look of puzzlement on Olivia’s face, she added, “What happened with Lucas? As soon as I saw him knock on your door, I decided to wait. I can’t believe my plans are going so well.”
When Olivia still didn’t respond—confusion had rendered her wordless—Tammy became petulant. “Come on, Livie, I set this up for you; the least you can do is tell me how it went. I’ve set up a little afternoon party at my place for tomorrow, and Hugh will be there, too, and I invited Lucas. You didn’t tell him no, did you? After all the trouble I went to?”
“Tammy, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” As soon as the words left her mouth, that rock-in-the-stomach feeling hit her—the one she used to get when she remembered the correct answer right as the exam ended. Tammy was trying to get Lucas and her together, which was never going to happen. That was bad enough, but she was willing to bet that any second now—yep, there it was, the kitchen door opening. Please let Lucas have left by the back door.
“Livie, fun news,” Maddie called across the store. “You and I are invited to a shindig at Tammy’s house tomorrow afternoon, and Lucas asked me to be his date.” Maddie’s arm was looped through Lucas’s elbow. They both grinned like teenagers posing for their prom picture.
Spotting Tammy, Maddie said, “Hey, Tam, thanks for the invite.” For once, she sounded friendly to Tammy. As Olivia watched, Maddie’s smile sagged and she drew Lucas back into the kitchen with her.
Olivia wanted to follow them.
Tammy’s face had turned a shade that would be, if Olivia were to describe it in icing colors, terra cotta with perhaps a drop of electric purple. “I need you there tomorrow,” Tammy said. “It’s really important to me.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
Tammy sniffled and pulled a folded tissue from the pocket of her skirt. “Good,” she said, dabbing the tip of her
nose. “Two o’clock and wear a dress. Oh, and bring along the leftover cookies.”
Three hours into the spring event, The Gingerbread House was packed with customers, and Olivia caught herself scanning for Clarisse Chamberlain’s tall, silver-haired figure. Clarisse had never missed an event at the store. If she were here, Olivia thought, she’d take one look at this crowd, hang her coat in the kitchen, and start working the floor as an unpaid clerk. She would dismiss Olivia’s objections with a wave of her hand, saying, “It takes me back to my youth.”
The crush of customers would ease soon with lunchtime approaching. The flower cookie contest was drawing to a close, and Maddie was about to announce the lucky recipient of a free cookie-decorating lesson. After that, most townsfolk would wander off to their various weekend activities. Most customers from farther away would disappear by midafternoon as well.
From the amount of cash in the register, Olivia figured the event was the most successful they’d hosted so far, but she hadn’t enjoyed it much. She remembered that last summer vacation to Cape Cod, when she was fifteen. Every year her family had traveled to the same lakeside spot and stayed for two weeks. After each visit, they would leave a down payment for the same two weeks, at the same cottage, for the following summer. Six months before that last visit, Olivia’s father had died of pancreatic cancer. He was diagnosed in mid-January and gone by the end of February. Right after the diagnosis, he’d made the family promise to go back to the cottage in Cape Cod, even if he wasn’t around to go with them. They’d kept that promise, even gone swimming every day and eaten dinners at the same little seafood restaurant, but the comfortable joy of it had died with her father. They never went back.
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