by Zoe Tasia
“I know exactly how you feel. Pastor Doyles knows my family never attended, so he wouldn’t try to talk me into it. Just let me know. I don’t mind popping in. He has a small place beside the church. One thing I would suggest doing some day is going by the graveyard. There are some amusing, interesting tombs there. A lot of the tourists go and take rubbings to bring home as souvenirs.”
“I haven’t been to a cemetery since my husband died.”
Kay patted my hand. “I’m sorry, Becca. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s been over a year. It still hurts, but it’s easier now. I didn’t think I would ever be able to do the simplest of things for a long while. When I was in the States, I lived near David’s family. Every time I saw a relative, I got upset, and I just couldn’t take all the memories that were constantly in my face. That’s why I decided to make a big move. I needed some time away. Some time and somewhere where no one could pop in and check on me or tell me a remember-when story about David.”
The phone rang. It was Mrs. Samms calling about having the girls over while her daughter, Heather, visited. I had second and third doubts about it until she confessed that her only daughter was coming for the weekend from school and had always wanted little sisters. She was excited to see the girls and had all sorts of plans, like fingernail painting and such.
“Glad she’s enthused now,” I said. “Wait until she actually has a daughter and see how fun it is when little Suzie demands French braids for school then complains and whines when it’s halfway done and acts like you’re torturing her when you insist on finishing said braid.”
Yes, Jess. In all fairness, she never asked for it again.
Chapter 14
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, AS I stood surveying the contents of the wardrobe, I agonized over what to wear for that night. Earlier, Greg had left a note under a rock on the cottage porch saying he would be there for dinner.
I had decided to serve roasted chicken with vegetables and spent the morning chopping and marinating. I lamented that I hadn’t really brought any fancy clothing but then chastised myself for even thinking of wearing something dressy to a simple dinner party. Crud! Now Kay has me thinking party, too. “Jeans, I’m wearing jeans. I’m being silly,” I told myself firmly.
Jess peeked around the corner into my bedroom. “What did you say, Mom?”
I hadn’t realized I’d said it so loudly. “Never mind. Just talking to myself.”
“So, who did you say was coming over tonight?”
I actually had tried not to say. Earlier, I just mentioned Kay and a couple of her friends. Hey, she does know Greg. “Kay and a couple of other grownups. Probably be a boring night, but I wanted to do something to thank her for being so helpful after I fell in the pond.”
“Oh, it’s a thank you. Then are you inviting that guy in the skirt?” The telltale signs of a pout emerged as Jess wrinkled her forehead and her lips thinned.
“Ha, ha, Jess. You know it’s called a kilt. Yes, I asked him to come too.”
“Is he?”
“Is he what?”
“Coming.”
My cheeks warmed. “Well, yes. He did say he could make it. Kay’s bringing an old girlfriend.”
“Wait a minute—is this a double date?” Jess folded her arms in front of her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you wanted us out of the house?”
“I didn’t say I wanted you out.”
“Yeah, but you were really fast to agree to let us spend the night at the Samms’, and you’re usually so weird about letting us even go over to someone’s house when you don’t know them well. You’ve never even met the daughter.”
“But I’ve met the Samms and allowed you and your sister to go there often. Look, Jess, do you want to stay home? If you do, you can march yourself over and explain why you’ve changed your mind. I don’t have a problem with it. I’ll probably tell Tate she needs to stay home too.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“It’s not. It’s fact. I feel better about both of you being together. You’ve been alone there more than Tate, helping out with the horses and riding, plus you’re older.”
Jess huffed a sigh. “Fine, you get your way. I’ll go—but he better not be here when I get home.” She twirled around and trounced to her bedroom.
“Jessica Elise Shaw!” I debated about following her but decided not to. I was pretty sure I knew what this was all about. Jess had told me about a friend of hers in the States whose parents divorced. The mother started dating again, which was fine, but she also had her gentlemen spend the night. Jess and her friend woke up one Saturday morning to find a man in sweats making breakfast. After that, I kept the sleepovers to my house. I knew it upset Jessie’s friend because one night, when she stayed over, she burst into tears and sobbed as she told me how much she missed her father and disliked her mother’s new boyfriend.
After I checked on the chicken and vegetables that were roasting in the oven, I dressed. Lazy, I had purchased dessert from the tea shop. Unsure what everyone would drink, I stocked up on wine and beer. Scots weren’t known for being teetotalers.
I hadn’t planned on walking the girls over but decided at the last minute to do so, hoping I wouldn’t come back to a smoldering cottage. I rushed them during the walk over but took time to meet the Samms’ daughter, Heather, and say a proper goodbye. She seemed very nice and was majoring in psychology, with the plan to go into counseling young adults. One more reason she wanted to be around the girls, I supposed.
I ARRIVED BACK AT SIX. Plenty of time to get ready. I spent more time than I liked to admit fussing with my hair. So I could finish the last moment preparations of dinner without having hair droop in my face, I clipped the sides back, but left the rest down. The last time I had my haired trimmed was in Houston just before we left for the UK. It had gotten longer than it had been since before kids. I cut it off shoulder length when Jess was two and had kept it there for years. I added just a tint of color to my cheeks and a clear gloss to my lips.
“That’s it, Rebecca Shaw,” I told myself with resolve.
After my primping, I went to the kitchens to marinate the chicken with the drippings. While the chicken rested, I’d roast the vegetables a bit longer. I debated about appetizers and finally decided to put something out. The cottage held no fancy serving dishes that I could find, so I opened a can of mixed nuts and dumped them in a small cereal bowl. Drat. I thought I’d gotten nuts with no peanuts, but must have grabbed the wrong can. I’d have to remember to pitch them afterward or send them home with Kay. Jessie was allergic. I’d feel awful if she accidentally ate any. I had an EpiPen but I would rather not have to use it.
I thought about asking Kay to come early, but I didn’t know her friend, so I decided not to. When her friend arrived on the ferry, Kay planned to pick her up then go to the cottage to drop off luggage. Then both would walk over.
I also put out chips for a quick appetizer. “I am so overthinking this,” I moaned.
Tossing the crisps back in the pantry, I exchanged them for dip, crackers, and veggies. “There, that’s enough.”
In the bathroom, I studied my reflection in the mirror. Deciding I looked wan, I added more blush then wiped it off because, geez, who puts makeup on for a simple meal with friends? I checked the poultry and, when I noticed a dry leaf in the entry way, stopped to sweep. I put the dip back in the fridge because it was too early. The chicken was ready.
“Ugh!” I gasped with worry, debating whether I should leave it in the oven and have it too dry or take it out and have it cold when they arrived. I turned the oven down.
Kay’s signature knock struck the door. When I rushed to the entryway, I was almost smacked in the head as Kay opened the door. “Oops, sorry,” she said when I bounced back to avoid it. “I thought you’d be busy cooking, and I didn’t want to interrupt you to get the door.”
“Oh, no—everything’s ready.”
“Are we late?”
“
No, I think I’m a bit early.”
When Kay entered the cottage, a slight woman with huge brown eyes, wearing oddly patterned green and yellow tights, followed her. Her hair was parted in the middle with a zigzag pattern. She met my eyes then ducked her head.
“This is my friend, Amberlee.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, thrusting my hand out like a politician after a vote. Her eyes widened, but she gingerly took my hand and shook it. Kay looked at me like I had turned into a turnip. To cover the awkward silence, I said, “Hi, I’m Becca, Becca Shaw. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Amberlee’s forehead crinkled. “You have?”
Kay’s mouth hung open then she mouthed, What? at me.
“I mean, any friend of Kay’s is a friend of mine.” Oh, God, kill me. “Come in, come in. I have some dippy crackers and nuts here.”
Amberlee hesitantly followed.
As Kay passed me, she leaned in. “Are you okay?”
As I nodded. I pushed the door shut, but before I could close the door, something stopped its progress.
I eeped. Thoughts of the large wolf and weird creatures filled my head. I pushed harder to close it.
“Becca, I think you’re trying to shut out your other guest,” Kay said.
I turned to face her and pressed my back into the door. “Huh?”
“Mr. Gillie was coming up the road when we knocked. It’s probably him.”
I yanked open the door. Greg had turned to walk away. Before he got too far, I reached out and grasped, catching the hem of his kilt. He spun and grabbed my hand.
“Oh,” we both said.
I dropped the material and opened the door wider. “Please come in.”
“These are for you,” he said as he shoved a bouquet of wild flowers into my hands. In a whirl of tartan, he shouldered past me then froze in the middle of the room. “This—it has changed much.”
“Oh, well, I imagine Mrs. Grant took much of her stuff with her when she moved in with her son. Did you know her well? Incidentally, the person who built this house was also named Gillie. Any relation to you?” Babbling again, Becca.
“The island is small and many of the villagers are related, if not through blood, then through marriage,” he replied.
“Mrs. Grant is sending me her family tree. I’ll let you know the first name of the Gillie she’s related to through marriage.”
“Ta,” he said.
I busied myself with finding a vase for the flowers. “Please, sit down and have some appetizers.” Appetizers. Sounds like some fancy, posh party.
Kay introduced Greg to Amberlee as Mr. Gillie. A look of surprised crossed Kay’s face when he asked them to call him Greg. Kay kept a running commentary on the food and the flowers, thankfully filling the air with noise while I wanted to crawl under the table. I stole glances at Greg. He wore a patched, but clean shirt, the color that white material got when it was old. His kilt hitched up a bit revealing one scabbed knee. My glance traveled down to his muscled calves. I wondered if he owned more than one kilt. I was no expert on survivalists, but the ones I saw on the news were rough-looking and in camo. Greg never looked scruffy and, while not a metrosexual, he seemed to take pride in his appearance. When I finally arranged the flowers in a large jar, having failed to find any other viable container, I put them in the center of the table.
“Amberlee also brought you this from the mainland.” Kay handed me a bag. Inside was a bottle of single malt whisky, a brand I recognized.
“Oh, thank you so much! We can have some after dessert.”
I came around the table to Amberlee and bent to hug her but straightened when she failed to react, just as she tried to hug me. We settled on patting each other awkwardly. I could smell the chicken, so I feared it was getting overcooked.
“Kay, could you get drinks for everyone?” I gestured to the red wine on the table. “There’s white wine and beer in the fridge.”
After I removed the chicken from the oven, I transferred it to a platter. Then I scattered the veggies on the pan, put them back in, and turned up the temp.
“What’s this?” Greg asked, holding up a small piece from the nuts bowl.
I thought he was just trying to make conversation. “Looks like half of a peanut,” I answered.
He popped in his mouth and chewed.
“What do you think?” I asked.
He took a drink of water that Kay had poured for everyone. “Is it supposed to make my lips tingle?” he asked.
To my horror, bumps rose on his face and his lips began to swell.
“Oh no!” I grabbed the offending bowl and tossed it in the trash. “Rinse your mouth out and wash your hands!”
I practically dragged Greg off his chair. Though he insisted he was okay, his face was swollen, and he had a blotchy, red rash. I eyed the bathroom and debated about getting the EpiPen, but Kay said she thought he would be fine as long as he didn’t have breathing problems or eat more peanuts.
Poison one guest, check.
By then the veggies were done and the chicken had rested. I put out the food and invited everyone to sit. Not knowing if I should say a prayer, in the end I decided to bow my head and hold my hands together as a compromise. Greg surprised me by making the sign of the cross. Thankfully, he offered to carve the chicken. My attempts in the past looked like a caveman had at it. I passed the bread and veggies around as he wielded the knife. When he finished, we passed the meat which was divided into light and dark.
“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully at him. He smiled back. I cleared my throat and raised my glass of wine. “I would like to propose a toast to Greg and Kay for their help in making my stay on the island happy and safe.”
We clicked glasses and sipped our wine.
“This is a beautiful island,” Amberlee commented. “I’ve never been here before.”
“Really?” I commented.
“Amberlee and I met when we were children while I was on a field trip,” Kay said. “Our friendship wasn’t approved of. We wrote to each other, and I tried to get to the mainland when I could but was unable to invite her to my house to visit. My parents were...intransigent.”
“That’s so unfortunate. Why did they object?” I asked.
“Many people here on the island have a...legacy. Some choose to ignore it and hope it goes away. My parents felt that way. They were very conservative in their outlooks.”
I was so totally lost. “Is that why you left?”
“Partly. I never knew about it until later. Thankfully, someone—” She looked at Greg. “—pointed me in the right direction.”
Greg studied his plate.
“I’ll always be grateful for that.”
Amberlee looked about as confused as I felt. Kay squeezed her hand. Everyone seemed to enjoy the food. In the States, I often served baked chicken and always received compliments. Most everyone would eat chicken and with a medley of vegetables—there should be at least one in the dish that everyone liked.
“I havena had chicken in some time,” Greg commented.
“Really? What do you generally eat?”
“I hunt—so, rabbits, the occasional deer, and such.”
“You’re welcome to take some home with you if you would like.”
“That’s not necessary. I can provide for myself.”
Great, I guess he thought it sounded like I thought he was beggared and needed charity. I debated about trying to explain but figured to leave well enough alone. Once dinner was over, I placed the cake I bought at the tea shop on the table. Kay removed the dirty dishes while Amberlee passed around the dessert plates and I cut the cake.
“I hope everyone likes chocolate.” I had tea and coffee. Of course, they all wanted tea. I thought I would offer the whisky when we finished. My phone chirped. “Excuse me a moment, it’s my daughter.”
Jess texted that they were having a wonderful time and sent a couple of photos of the three of them. Heather had French braided Jessie’s hair an
d curled Tate’s in ringlets. The girls combined efforts on their poor hostess, and she sported three braids that then had been braided together with numerous ribbons. I quickly texted back to say I was glad they were having fun and to be good and I loved them.
“They’re fine and having fun.” I explained where they were at and Greg asked me what color Heather’s hair was. “Brown, I think.”
“Ah, not blonde then?”
“Nooo.”
“So, she isn’t attached to the land as her kin.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “No, I guess not. She’s visiting, but it sounds like she has her own life on the mainland. I think she’s planning to move to London if she can afford it. Her mother said she had visited and loved it there.”
“The one boy, at least, he will stay,” Greg said decisively.
“Well, yes, their son, Gavin, does seem to be attached to the farm, but there’s always a possibility that he may decide to venture out too.”
“Nae, glaistig blood runs through him, as his da.”
“Glas...what?” I asked.
“Pay no mind. I have a fanciful nature at times.” He stood. “Where is your water closet?”
Kay whispered, “WC.”
I motioned toward the hallway. “The first door on the left.”
I wanted to ask Kay about the comments she and Greg made that I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t sure if I should. It was as if she and Greg were in some secret club, and Amberlee and I were in the dark. I didn’t like that feeling.
After a few minutes, Greg peeked around the corner. “I think your pull cord is broken.”
“Oh, let’s see.” When I reached the bathroom, he halted me just in the doorway and tugged the light, which came on then off.
“I think it works fine.”
“Well, it turns the lights on and off, but it doesna...” He gestured at the toilet.