“You were married to my stepdaughter?” The disclosure taxed her overburdened mind. She blinked rapidly, her chest heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. Then she gasped. “Your daughter, Fancy. You’re mean she’s . . . ?”
“Bodi’s daughter,” Philip supplied.
“Rosemary has a granddaughter?”
“You do too.” Easing the smartphone from his pocket, Philip showed their stunned guest the image on the lock screen.
Jada knew the picture well: Fancy beaming at the camera in a hot pink dress-up gown and purple magician’s cape.
“Jada has shared a few delightful stories about Fancy. I have wondered what she looks like.” Shock appeared to have loosened Millicent’s tongue, and her hand shook as she accepted the phone. “Good heavens. I don’t believe this. Philip, she’s extraordinary.”
“Thanks.”
“Vasily, come look. Three generations stamped from one mold. I’ve never seen anything like it.” When he sauntered over, she held out phone to allow him a quick peek. “Remarkable, don’t you think?”
“Quite,” he murmured, giving the phone a cursory glance before regarding her closely. He seemed to weigh the shock of the unfolding events against her ability to manage them.
Yet he made no attempt to assist her as tears quickly filled her eyes. They brimmed over as she traced a finger around the image on the lock screen. “For goodness’ sake, you could knock me over with a feather. What an absolutely beautiful child. She’s Bodi’s spitting image—and Rosemary’s.”
Philip’s brows lifted. “I wasn’t aware Bodi resembled her mother.”
“No, you couldn’t have been. Not if she made her family out to be something less than it was.” A portion of Millicent’s natural vigor returned as she navigated to the camera roll. Eagerly she spun through photos of her granddaughter. “Young man, I’m sorry to point out the obvious. There’s absolutely none of your likeness in Fancy at all.”
“Oh, she’s mine all right. Personality-wise, at least. Dreamy, persistent—”
“Silly, charming,” Jada broke in. She stroked Philip’s arm. It was the first time she’d reached for him since their argument at his house. The simple affection lured his eyes to hers, and the private moment they shared spun something good through her chest. Remembering their guests, she added, “Fancy is all Kettering on the personality front.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.” Catching herself, Millicent sobered. She dragged a palm across the moisture glistening on her face. “I’m not sure how to tell Rosemary the other news. She’ll be inconsolable. Her daughter, gone.” Handing back the phone, she wove a slow path to Jada’s desk. “How do I proceed?” she murmured to herself. “Wait to mention Fancy? There’s no reason we can’t stay in Sweet Lake for several days. Perhaps Rosemary should learn about losing Bodi today. Should I tell her about Fancy tomorrow?”
The sorrow she’d managed to put at bay again blistered her expression with pain. Jada resisted the urge to go to her. The sharing of grief and then joy was a private matter. However Millicent wanted this handled, it was best to do whatever she asked.
Coming to a decision, she marched back across the office. “All of you—stay here,” she ordered. “I’ll bring Rosemary inside. The news about Fancy can wait several hours, but she’ll never forgive me if I don’t tell her about Bodi immediately.” She turned to Jada. “We’ll play this by ear. Let me give Rosemary the basics privately. Afterward, I’ll let you know when we’re prepared for you to join us. She’ll demand to hear the rest. In an hour or so.”
She marched out. The door slammed shut behind her.
Jada pressed a hand to her stomach. “Philip, we didn’t tell her that Fancy is here.” Given the difficult events, her insides were a coil of knots.
“At the inn?” Vasily looked from one to the other. “Where?”
“In the ballroom,” Jada told him.
Philip brushed past. “I’ll grab her, take her home. Millicent is right—it’s better for Rosemary to hear about Bodi first. Let’s tell her about Fancy tonight or wait until tomorrow.”
Jada grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Philip, no. If you cart her away from Linnie’s bridal shower, she’ll be heartbroken. She’s having so much fun. Why upset her right before we’re about to turn her world upside down? This isn’t just about Rosemary and how she’ll deal with the news. This affects Fancy too.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Come on.” She hurried into the corridor. The men fell in line behind her. From over her shoulder, she told Philip, “Let’s introduce ourselves and help get Rosemary off the patio. There’s no need to tell her or Millicent that Fancy’s nearby. We’ll get them settled in their suite upstairs.”
“Then what?” Philip asked.
“I’ll ask Cat to keep Fancy occupied. In an hour or so, go in and take her home. She won’t like leaving early, but at least she will have stayed for most of the party.”
“Jada, she also won’t like that you didn’t return to the party. She was really looking forward to hanging out with you.”
“I know.” Jada sighed.
Vasily held up his hand like an eager student.
“One question,” he said, and his lighthearted tone broke the tension for a blissful moment. “I’m dying to meet Rosemary’s look-alike. Can I go with Philip when he crashes the party?”
Feeling weightless with apprehension, Jada clasped the hand Philip offered. He looked equally shell-shocked as they led Vasily back to the lobby. Two girls, apparently coming in from the lake, were battling over a pail of sand they’d dug from the beach. At the front desk, a silver-haired couple was checking in. Voices carried from the veranda. They mixed with a celebratory cheer emanating from the ballroom, where Linnie’s bridal shower was in full swing.
Philip took the lead; their young friend trailed behind. To Jada, he whispered, “Who’s watching Fancy?”
“I left her at a table with Cat.”
“Where are they sitting?”
She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t ask. You really don’t want to know.”
“If Fancy is anywhere near the windows, she may see Rosemary.” The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deepened with worry. “Geez, how do I introduce my kid to her look-alike grandmother? Not to mention her other grandmother?”
“Don’t worry about it now. Let’s just get Rosemary through the worst news she’ll ever receive.”
“I have a funny feeling this won’t hold until tomorrow.”
She knew what he meant. Despite Millicent’s desire to control the course of events, life had a way of playing out as it chose. Jada sighed. She’d left Fancy near the windows overlooking the patio. On the plus side, Philip’s daughter was unfamiliar with Millicent. However, if any of the Sirens were at the table with Fancy and Cat, it would take them no time at all to notice the historian wandering around the patio one story below. Jada doubted they’d resist hurrying out the ballroom’s back door to invite her to join the festivities.
Philip quickened his pace around the side of the inn, taking the pavement with swift strides she had trouble matching. At the back corner of the ballroom, the pavement met the grass. On the sloping lawn curving downward to the patio, deep ruts cut through to the soil.
Jada was trying to make sense of the ruts when Philip pulled her to a stop.
Below them, near the arbor he’d built, Millicent was talking to a woman in a wheelchair. Millicent’s hands gestured in the air, no doubt to describe the greenery and the flowers Philip would use to dress the arbor. The lavender scarf tied at Rosemary’s chin glimmered in the sunlight. Listening avidly, she lifted her head.
As she did, a startled gasp broke from Jada’s mouth. Rosemary Wagner-Earhardt possessed the arrestingly beautiful face of a woman in her prime.
A nearly exact replica of Bodi’s face, Jada thought with a start. And Fancy’s.
Vasily brushed past them. “Get moving, soldiers. Millicent will be pee
ved we didn’t follow her orders, but if we delay much longer, the gig is up.”
Millicent continued to gesture as he took the hill with long strides, the movement catching her attention and swiveling her around. She squinted, her gaze finding Jada and Philip still rooted on the knoll. With a look of consternation, Millicent dropped her hands to her sides.
When she did, she grazed her wife’s head. Laughing, Rosemary batted her away. As she rolled the wheelchair back an inch, the scarf tied beneath her chin loosened.
The breeze, conspiring to reveal her secret, rippled across the fabric. A strong gust completed the undertaking, blowing the silky material from her head. Suddenly the scarf was aloft, bounding skyward like a kite toying with the air currents. Vasily took off after it, leaping over the boxwood surrounding the patio to play catch-me-if-you-can across the grass.
His vain attempts at capture went unnoticed. Philip whispered unintelligible words. At precisely the same instant, Jada’s brows lifted. Rosemary’s hair—a silky, streaming ribbon—was a rare lemon hue.
“Jada, look.” With jerky movements, Philip pointed to the ballroom, zeroing in on the last window. “There.”
Obeying the command, Jada looked past the arbor and the steps ascending to the back entrance. She looked all the way to the last window, the one nearest the door leading down to the woman in the wheelchair.
Fancy.
Pressing her small hands to the glass, she locked her attention on the woman seated in a corona of light as clear and bright as her hair.
Chapter 23
Fancy disappeared from the window. Hurrying onto the patio with Philip, Jada heard the squeak of the ballroom door.
Philip did too. He began sprinting past, to ascend the stairs and escort his daughter into the breathless group waiting for her below. A garbled command from Millicent arrested his feet. She knew as he did—just as Vasily knew, ambling across the grass to join them, and Jada, covering the fierce beating of her heart with her palm—what would come next.
Rosemary did not.
She cast a curious glance across the people crowding around her wheelchair. And why not? She couldn’t possibly comprehend the momentous change sweeping into her life.
The door creaked shut. Fancy wavered at the top of the steps. But only for a moment.
If love was a golden cord, the starstruck child clasped one end and let it guide her down the steps to the woman in the wheelchair. A dizzying array of emotion darted through Rosemary’s cornflower-blue eyes as her granddaughter neared—shock, wonder, disbelief. Then joy clearer than the April sky as Fancy paused several paces away.
They were twin moons revolving around each other in an orbit that excluded everyone else. A cry of wonder burst from Rosemary. Her reaction, pure and unrestrained, widened Fancy’s eyes. She trotted forward in her pink party dress, hurrying now to the woman opening her arms wide to receive her.
Fancy—with nothing but the glowing invitation of the selfsame blue eyes that were locked on hers—approached the heavy steel wheelchair with curiosity and not a trace of apprehension. Then she stopped again. She was mesmerized by the breeze toying with Rosemary’s hair, fanning it out around her shoulders and her pale features. But only for the space of time one heartbeat needs to merge into the next.
She climbed into Rosemary’s lap.
“You’re my twin.” Fancy caught a dancing strand, tucked it behind Rosemary’s ear.
“Actually, you’re my twin,” Rosemary told her with admirable calm. “I’m older than you.”
“I look just like you.”
“You do.”
“I don’t look like anybody.” Fancy went nose to nose with the woman holding her tightly. She blinked rapidly, fluttering her lashes against Rosemary’s. “Our eyes are the same blue.”
Millicent, standing behind them, began to sway. Vasily darted to her side. When he slung an arm across her shoulders, she sank against him.
The dam holding in Rosemary’s emotions broke without warning. Through tears, she touched Fancy’s arms and her lips, the downy curve of her cheek and the slender length of her thigh, hidden beneath the party dress. She looked up at the others. Her voice rife with emotion, she said, “I would very much like someone to explain who this child is.”
Philip knelt beside her chair. “This is Fancy, my daughter.”
“Your . . . I don’t understand.”
He took Fancy’s chin, and her eyes delved into his. “Fancy, this is your grandmother. Her name is Rosemary.”
A child’s world is a simple place, and Fancy accepted the news with a nod. “What about Grammy in Texas?”
The question furrowed her father’s brows. Jada knew what Fancy meant.
When she approached, Fancy hopped down from her perch. Something about the proceedings had begun to unnerve her. She clambered into Jada’s arms.
“Grammy in Texas is still your grandmother,” Jada assured her, and Fancy’s legs tightened around her waist in response. She steered the child’s head to her shoulder. “No one is being replaced. You now have Grammy, Grandmother Rosemary—and Millicent.”
“I have three grandmothers?”
“You do.”
“Like Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather?”
Sleeping Beauty’s fairy godmothers weren’t an exact fit, but Jada saw no reason to quibble. “That’s right.”
Fancy released a breathy sigh. “That’s a lot.”
Any child would need time to process the discovery, and instinct carried Jada farther away from the others. She stood rocking Fancy until she relaxed. Then Jada inhaled sharply. The scent of barbecue sauce was heavy on Fancy’s skin.
A brown streak of sauce formed a thin line on her temple. “Did you get enough drumsticks?” Licking her fingers, Jada used the moisture to rub the streak away.
“I guess I’m not allowed to have more.” Evidently Fancy recalled their conversation about polite serving portions. “I ate four drumsticks.”
“Would you like more?” There was no question about it: Fancy was Philip’s child. She’d inherited his barbecue lust.
“Can I?”
“Why not? Run inside and get another drumstick. Get two. You can eat out here and visit with your new grandmothers. We’ll go back to the party in a little while.”
“Will you dance with me? Cat said she brought boogie-woogie music. She said she’ll turn on the music after Linnie opens her presents.”
Boogie-woogie music? The silly description sounded exactly like Cat. “We’ll dance together for as long as you want,” Jada promised.
Delighted, Fancy squirmed out of her arms. She was halfway up the stairs when she stopped. She trotted back down.
At a tentative pace, she returned to the wheelchair. “Would you like some chicken?” she asked Rosemary. Clasping the armrests, she leaned close, whispering, “I’ll get you two because we’re twins.”
When Rosemary gave her a watery smile, Fancy dashed up the steps.
Determined to finish her latest art project, Fancy raced from the dais with another discarded bow. More ribbons and bows already covered the dark hair cascading past Cat’s shoulders than Jada cared to count.
Late-afternoon light slanted through the ballroom windows. Most of the partygoers were gone, with the exception of Frances and Silvia. The co-leaders of the Sirens were helping the Housekeeping staff clear the buffet table. They’d wisely left the heaps of wrapping paper scattered across the dais where Linnie continued to stack shower gifts. No one planned to clean up the wrapping paper until Fancy tired of the pretty-pretty game.
Fancy pressed the latest bow to Cat’s head. After she ran back to the dais, Cat resumed the conversation.
“They’re still in their suite?” she asked Jada.
“Millicent is unpacking, I guess,” Jada replied. “According to Vasily, Rosemary needed a nap. This afternoon was awfully hard on her.”
Worry inked Cat’s eyes. “She’ll want details, all the stuff you refuse to share even with me and Linni
e. How do you feel about that?”
“Scared, I guess. I can’t talk about Bodi’s death without reliving those moments. Every stark detail.”
“Should I go with you? For moral support?”
“I’ll muddle through on my own, but thanks.”
Giggling erupted on the dais. Sorting through the heaps of wrapping paper, Fancy looked like a kid about to leap into a pile of autumn leaves. Helping her, Linnie found a large yellow bow and a length of pink ribbon. Together they returned to the table.
Linnie dropped the bow into Fancy’s waiting palm. “Cat needs something pretty on her forehead.” She gave the first grader an encouraging push.
“Hold still.” Fancy pressed the bow to her victim’s brow.
Cat scowled. “Thanks, Linnie.”
“Anytime.”
Fancy ran off to collect more supplies. Frances and Silvia called to her. They began pointing at the leftovers, platters stuffed with untouched appetizers, cheesecake slices, Jada’s delectable brownies—and an oval platter half-filled with the barbecue drumsticks Fancy adored. The co-leaders of the Sirens planned to send the child home with several days’ worth of food.
Linnie made good use of the privacy. “About tonight,” she said, scooting her chair close to Jada’s, “you don’t have to do this alone. I’ve already talked to Daniel. He’ll take all the shower gifts home. I’m sticking around. There’s no need for you to speak with Rosemary alone.”
Cat said, “Too late. I’ve already offered. Jada wants to do this solo.”
“I do,” Jada agreed. “I appreciate both of you offering, really.”
Her phone vibrated, drawing the conversation to a close. Scanning the text, she excused herself.
In the lobby, Millicent paced beneath the watchful eye of Mr. Uchida, who sat behind the front desk. When Jada appeared, the historian looked relieved.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you this soon,” Jada admitted. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Well, I guess.” Millicent rubbed her palms together. She attempted a cheery expression. “The suite is lovely, by the way. The view of the lake from the bay window is breathtaking. I dozed off in one of the easy chairs.”
The Season of Silver Linings Page 25