Shadow's Lady (A Pajaro Bay Cozy Mystery + Sweet Romance)
Page 19
"Matteo?"
"Yes, ma'am." He pulled his attention away from the door. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."
"That's all right, son. I just wanted to discuss a problem with you."
"Yes. I've heard about the hot tub." Some software tycoon had bought one of the cliff cottages and was threatening to put a hot tub on the front lawn. "I'm sure you ladies can handle the tragedy."
"It's not that. It's that." She nodded toward the bay, where the lighthouse island sat. "We need to name a permanent lighthouse keeper in preparation for next year's tourist season. All renovations are done, and we need someone who knows boats, can give tours, and can cook for the guests when the lighthouse becomes a bed and breakfast."
"Mm hmm," he said absently, glancing back at the door.
"We were thinking of Lori."
He laughed. "No offense, Ms. Zelda. But your great-niece isn't the best cook I've ever met."
"Oh, you'd be the cook and handle the boats. She'd give the historical tours."
"Thank you, ma'am," he said. "But you know with my reputation as a criminal the council would never approve such a thing."
"Oh." She smiled sweetly at him. "Haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?"
She just smiled and wandered off into the house.
Alec O'Keeffe finally showed up, a big stack of newspapers in his arms.
"Are you ready?" he asked Matt.
"Well, my mom's annoyed because we aren't having a church wedding, Lori's parents are mad that she's marrying a bum like me, so yeah. I think we've covered all the bases."
"This ought to help," Alec said, handing him a paper from the stack. "Think of it as an extra wedding present...."
The Shadow is Undercover Hero, the headline read.
"I had a bit of help from your great-aunt, and that character George," he said, nodding to his partner, who was still fighting a losing battle with Shadowfax over the bow tie. Alec grinned. "George decided that now that you are an ex-secret agent, it's time your friends knew the whole truth. I had to agree."
"Mabel Rutherford will have a cow," Matt said.
"Mabel Rutherford bought twelve copies. Claims she knew it all along."
•••
Her mother. How strange that Lori had never noticed how much alike they were. She could see Aunt Zee in mom now. They were all so alike. An unbroken line from her grandmother, Aunt Zee's sister, to her mother, to her. All struggling with how to live with these thunderstorms in their brains. Trying to figure out how to just live.
The others had left the bedroom and she was alone with only her mother there. It still felt awkward, knowing her mother didn't approve, but was gritting her teeth and putting up with Lori's choices because she could no longer control her.
She turned to face her mother, wondering what to say to convince her that this was really the right decision. That this was where she belonged.
Her mother had tears in her eyes, and all Lori's tough resolve melted. She hugged her close and said, "I'm so sorry you're unhappy, Mom."
"Unhappy?" Her mother shook her head. "Oh, honey. I'm not unhappy." She fumbled with a little something and then held her hand out to Lori.
Lori took what her mother was offering to her. It was a little locket on a chain, gold, with an image of the Eiffel Tower etched on it. "Oh, mom! It's my something old!"
"No," said her mother. "Aunt Zee will be here in a minute with your something old."
"Then I don't understand...."
"This is your something borrowed." The tears spilled over onto her mom's cheeks. "Open it, Lori."
She did. Inside was a tiny picture of a man. He looked serious, with dark eyes in a lean face, a scraggle of a young man's beard, and a a mop of too-long, sunbleached hair.
"I don't understand. Who is he?"
"He is my Matt. When I was eighteen he asked me to run away to Paris with him, to become an artist like I had dreamed of doing."
"But—"
"But I was afraid. Afraid to go against my parents' wishes. Afraid to take a risk. Afraid to be out in the world with my epilepsy always there, ready to stop me, to embarrass me, to possibly kill me."
I did this for you, because I didn't do it for your mother, Aunt Zee had said.
"So you didn't go."
"I didn't go. I stayed with my parents. I let them decide what was best for me. I married your father, a man they picked out for me."
She looked at her mother, surprised.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. Your father and I have been very happy together. We care very deeply for each other. He is a wonderful man. Kind and decent, loving and supportive. I can't say a single thing bad about him."
"I know."
"But it has never been that kind of love. The kind of love that would make you run off to Paris with a man." She kissed Lori on the cheek. "The kind of love you'd find when a man washes ashore on your island and steals your heart."
Then her mother straightened up and wiped away the tears. "I am very proud of you, Lori. Don't ever forget that."
Now Lori was the one with tears. "I never knew."
"How could I tell you? Your father doesn't know. No one knows. Except Aunt Zee. And now you."
"I'll never tell," Lori said. She let her mother slip the locket chain over her head and her mother nestled it under the neckline of the gown, close to her heart.
"Are you all finished?" asked Aunt Zee with her usual perfect timing.
"All done," her mom said brightly.
"Ready for the something blue?" Aunt Zee asked. She handed her a black velvet case. Lori opened it, and gasped.
The earrings were sapphires, a shade that matched Aunt Zee's eyes, and so matched her own. She put them on, then looked one last time in the mirror. In the glass she saw Aunt Zee, her mother, and herself. Three generations of strong women, all at peace with the decisions they'd made in life. All ready to go forward from here.
"Ready?" Aunt Zee asked.
Lori nodded. She was ready.
thank you
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Read on for a sneak preview of the next Pajaro Bay novel, Dashing Through the Surf.
charities
10% of the royalties from each of Barb's stories are donated to charity. The charity for this story is Citizens United for Research in Epilepsy (CURE). A complete list of organizations receiving donations is kept updated at Barb's website, http://www.BarbaraCoolLee.com.
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sneak preview
From Dashing Through the Surf:
Ashby Drew took the flyer the teenager handed her and looked for a spot on the crowded beach. The long walk from the bus station down to the ocean had tired her more than she expected. She hadn't gotten much exercise in a 6x8 cell.
The beach held a big crowd for the tiny coastal town. If this year was anything like it used to be in the old days, everyone in the village had shown up.
A woman with curly red hair and carrying a ginger-haired baby in a front carrier waved to her.
Ashby looked around, but didn't see anyone else the woman could be waving to.
"Yeah, you," the redhead said. "Have a seat."
Ashby sat down on the folding chair next to her.
"I've been new, too," the woman said.
Ashby started to correct her, but then just said, "thanks."
The woman nestled the baby closer, and he sighed in his sleep. He was comfy in his baby blue carrier, his little sailor hat shading his face from the brilliant sunshine. Ashby felt tears sting her eyes. Must be the brightness of the sun. Or something else. After all, it had been nine years, ten mon
ths and eighteen days since she’d last been this close to a baby.
"He's dressed for the occasion," the woman said. "Perfect fall day on the California coast, isn't it?"
Ashby nodded. She had dreamed of this kind of day for so long. The women's prison in California's Central Valley was stale and dark, hot in summer and cold in winter. A day like this, with the sky a rich blue, the sun already warming the sand under their feet, and the breeze wafting the tang of ocean air gently toward them—it was a dream. A dream needing only one more wish to make it perfect.
She uncrumpled the flyer in her hand and looked at it. Official Kick-Off to Pajaro Bay's Christmas Season: The Cowabunga Kid and Canine Surfing Event, Hosted by Santa, Saturday, 9:30 a.m. to Whenever. Followed by beach picnic and pie-eating contest.
Down the beach the driftwood campfires for the hot dog roasting were already going strong. The sharp smell of the smoke mingled with the sea air, and she was suddenly far away, with Xander O'Keeffe whispering to her by a long-ago campfire. The memory was so vivid she could feel his breath against her ear, and she had to focus hard on the flyer to bring herself back to the present.
Then she noticed what was right in front of her. The flyer was in bright, happy colors, with a photo of a grinning little black-and-white dog balanced on the front of a pink surfboard, surrounded by frothy white surf.
And on the back of the board stood a girl. A girl with a grin as big as the dog's. Even in the photo Ashby could see the high energy in the kid, the excitement in her eyes as she perched effortlessly atop the longboard. The girl had long golden hair in twin braids over her shoulders, and a tan that spoke of too-many days at the beach without enough sunscreen. She wore a pink-flowered bikini like a second skin.
Ashby caressed the caption under the picture with one finger: National Youth Champion Ria O'Keeffe will be special guest at this youth surfing event.
National Youth Champion.
Ashby rested her palm on the photograph. To be a national champion youth surfer was quite an achievement for a little girl who was only nine years, ten months and eighteen days old....
•••
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pajaro bay
1 The Honeymoon Cottage
2 Under the Boardwalk
3 Home Improvement (short story)
4 Shadow's Lady (this book)
5 Pajaro Bay Christmas (short story)
6 Silver Shells (novella)
7 Dashing Through the Surf
8 Blast From the Past
9 The Bride of Jonas Collinwood
10 The Widow and the Beast (novella)
Welcome to Pajaro Bay Box Set (1-4)
3 Christmases in Pajaro Bay Box Set (5-7)
Escape to Pajaro Bay Box Set (8-10)
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table of contents
About This Story
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Thank You
Charities
Sneak Preview
Books in the Series
edition
First Edition
Version #SL20140915a
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