by Lisa Patton
I took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Do I look silly? Maybe I should go change.”
“Nuup. I say wear what you want. Who cares? I wear skirts all the time. I’m just not big on heels.”
“I wonder what he’s up to.” I looked off in a daydream about the evening. “Last year, we went to dinner at Folk’s Folly. Oh, Roberta, you would love Folk’s Folly. It’s a wonderful steak restaurant back home and it has the best creamed spinach you’ve ever put in your mouth.” I’d give my right baby toe to be back home at Folk’s Folly tonight. “After dinner, we came home and Baker had three presents for me to open. One was a bottle of my favorite bubble bath. The next was a bottle of our favorite champagne, and the last was this beautiful gown from Saks with matching panties to go underneath.” I bent down and whispered in her ear. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
Roberta smiled and held up only two fingers. “Girl Scout’s honor.”
“The panties are see-through.”
Roberta got a huge smile on her face and for a split second it entered my mind she might let it slip to George Clark at the gas station. But it was too late; I had already revealed my secret.
“I bet I know what you two will be up to tonight after the restaurant closes. How about if I look after the girls and you and Baker can spend the night in one of the guest rooms? Would you like that?”
“Roberta! Do you mean it? Would you really spend the night here tonight? That would be wonderful.” I reached over to hug her.
“Of course I would. Now, why don’t you pick out the room you want and you can surprise the boss man with a bottle of champagne and something sexy for him to wear tonight. They make see-through undies for men, you know.”
“Roberta Abbott! Aren’t you the sly one?” I smiled at her and lightly pushed her shoulder. “Baker Satterfield would have to be at gunpoint to wear see-through undies, but still, if I know Baker, he’s got something lovely planned.”
“Well, you two lovebirds have a greet time and don’t worry about the girls.”
After hugging Roberta again I flew back down the stairs. I could hardly wait for the restaurant rush to be over. I could picture Baker now, fantasizing about me wearing the diamond earrings he was going to finally buy me . . . and nothing else.
I must have spent hours that day getting ready. After all the anguish we had endured over the last few months, I wanted this night to be special. I took a long hot bath, shaved my legs, took forever styling my hair, put on Baker’s favorite perfume, and wore the slinkiest dress I had in my closet—even though I froze the whole time I was wearing it. It was black, of course, and the neckline veed in the front and in the back. The cap sleeves were slightly off the shoulder and made of black lace. It was fitted at the waist and the same lace that was on the sleeves was also on the bodice. I had worn the dress to Virginia’s last cocktail party and Baker couldn’t stop touching me.
When I walked in the kitchen that night everyone looked at me like I was an alien—especially Helga and Kerri. I shrugged it off, though. Number one, Helga would never own a dress like mine. Number two, Kerri would never have anywhere to wear a dress like mine. And number three, I didn’t give a hoot what they thought. I knew Baker liked it and that’s all that mattered.
Roberta winked at me when I walked in and I noticed Jeb look up from his dishes but then he looked right back down. A little later I caught him staring at me with his mouth open.
Here it was the last night before we closed for Mud Season and dinner was crazy busy. A party of eight local people called right as we were winding down to ask if they could still be served. There was no way we could turn down that kind of business, Baker said. Anniversary or not, it meant a high check and I knew we needed all the money we could get to sustain us through Mud Season.
Unfortunately it was eleven o’clock before that last table left. Baker hadn’t mentioned our anniversary all day. But I knew him better than that. He did it on purpose so he could surprise me with a wonderful ending to the day. He called me his cherry on top. He said it was for all kinds of reasons, but I knew my red hair was the primary explanation.
So far, I had managed to keep my plans a secret. I had bananas for Baker and strawberries for me all ready to dip into my delectable homemade chocolate sauce. It was no easy task hiding it from Rolf and Helga, but I had managed to sneak a bottle of Dom Pérignon out of the basement and had it chilling in a bucket on the bedside table of the most beautiful bedroom in the inn. The bed was topped with a canopy, and a feather bed lay on top of the mattress. There was a fireplace in the room and I had asked Jeb to build a fire earlier in the day. All I had to do was light a match to it. This evening was going to be perfect and Lord knows we needed it.
Roberta knew to tell Baker I was waiting on him upstairs when he finished. While I was in our room I lit the fire and turned on Cat Stevens—Greatest Hits ever so softly. I sprayed lavender water all over the sheets and turned down the bed while singing along to “Wild World.”
When midnight rolled around and Baker still had not joined me upstairs, I got anxious and went down to find him. Rolf, Helga, and Kerri were gone, thank goodness, and Jeb was mopping down the floor. Roberta was wiping the counters and Pierre was sipping from his white coffee cup that he always kept hidden away on top of the fridge. I discovered his little secret late one night when I accidentally “bussed” his coffee cup. Pierre drank red coffee that smelled just like our house merlot. No wonder he always slurred his words by the end of the night.
“Roberta, do you know where Baker is?” I peeked around the corner into the kitchen. “I’ve got something for him,” I said with a big smile.
“I thought he was upstairs with you. I told him you were waiting.” She gave me an impish wink.
“He’s not upstairs. I’ll check the apartment. He’s probably freshening up.”
The bathroom door in our apartment was open and the light was off. Our bedroom was empty and the girls were asleep in their beds. There was no sign of him in our apartment. I went back upstairs and searched every room in the entire inn. I even checked the attic, thinking maybe he had hidden my present up there. No Baker.
Lord God, this is strange. But . . . he’ll be right back. Maybe he ran out to . . . to . . . pick up a pizza. That’s it. We both love pizza. Okay, pizza and beer work, too. We’ll save the champagne and strawberries until my birthday. It’s right around the corner.
When I walked back into the kitchen, all three of my newfound comrades were huddled together. No one had seen Baker for at least thirty minutes. Reading the look of panic on my face, Roberta, Pierre, and Jeb helped me search every square inch of the Vermont Haus Inn. Jeb came up with the idea to check the barn where the garbage was kept and all four of us nearly trampled each other trying to make it out the screened porch door at the same time. Maybe Baker had an accident while taking out the trash and is hollering for help without anyone hearing him, I thought. Our barn search turned up the same result. No Baker.
Pierre started around back to make sure Baker’s Explorer was still there, and the rest of us trailed right behind him. You could have heard snow falling when the three of them looked over at me—after discovering the only car parked behind the barn was my blue BMW.
When he still wasn’t back by two o’clock in the morning I called the closest hospital. No Baker. There was no such thing as 911 in Willingham, Vermont, so I called the Manchester Police Department. I held out from calling as long as I could, since up until that moment I was convinced that this whole thing was nothing but a big misunderstanding. I was worried sick, but there had to be some kind of an explanation. Besides, I would be darned if I wanted all the police scanners in Vermont broadcasting the details of a disappearing Baker. We were talked about enough around this town.
The police told me that a person had to be missing for forty-eight hours before they’d investigate. I asked if there had been any wrecks reported around Willingham and the answer was no. The dispatcher let me know that ninety-n
ine times out of a hundred, the missing person turns up after no more than a domestic squabble. I asked if they could keep it off the scanner. The woman on the phone acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. (Roberta said that was a big fat lie and that more people have scanners around Vermont than they have satellite dishes and not to believe a word she said.)
The police said all I could do was wait. And wait I did. By the phone. By the door. In front of the window. Sometime around four in the morning I couldn’t stand it anymore. Fortunately, Roberta had fallen asleep on my couch so I wouldn’t have to wake up the girls if I wanted to go looking for Baker. I ran out to my car and took off toward all the local bars in town. I hadn’t even been inside any of these places yet, but I knew where they were all the same. Baker’s Explorer was nowhere in sight.
Kerri’s house was on the way to the local all-nighter, the Moose Head Inn. As I approached her house an ominous feeling returned, one that I had fought over and over. And now, as I faced the possibility, I still had a hard time completing the thought. Could Baker, my one and only, actually be with Kerri? What was it about her that he preferred to me? I knew she was more of a sportswoman than me—that was obvious. And she had long, pretty straight hair. Okay, her figure is amazing, but she cusses all the time and she drinks like a fish and she’s not the mother of his children! I slowed down as I drove past and stared up into her driveway. The house was pitch-dark without a car in sight. I thought about sneaking up and peeking in the windows. But to be honest, even if he was there, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to know the truth. After an hour of aimless driving around I headed home, somewhat relieved but still devastated.
All the next day I waited for Baker to come home, and never closed my eyes. I explained to Sarah and Isabella that Daddy was out of town and he’d be back soon. If it weren’t for having to keep it together for the girls, I don’t know how I would have made it. I tried telling myself there was a logical explanation and he would be walking in the door at any moment.
Purely as a distraction, I stole away to the computer to prepare the payroll. Normally, I would wait until the last minute, but I decided to get it done early. When the computer was finished spitting out the checks, I flipped through each one making sure there were no errors. As soon as I caught sight of a certain name I finally lost all control. Tears welled in my eyes and I burst into sobs. There’s no way Baker would ever cheat on me. He’s not that kind of guy. I don’t care how pretty and sexy and fish-smart she is.
Around noon the next day, twelve hours before I could call the police and report Baker missing, I called Roberta at home. She was disappointed to learn Baker wasn’t back yet. I asked her if she would mind coming over.
When she arrived at the inn, I let her have her ten minutes to herself but I was waiting right outside the half bath in the kitchen when she finished.
“Roberta, if I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” She hadn’t even closed the bathroom door behind her. “It’s very hard for me to ask you what I’m about to ask you, but there’s something I need to know.”
“Why sure, Leelee, I’ll be honest with you. What’s on your mind?”
I’d rehearsed exactly how I was going to ask her a thousand times, but I just couldn’t make myself be that direct. At the last second I chickened out. “Um, Roberta . . . what are you and Moe doing over the break? Got any big plans?”
“Let’s see here, Moe’s cousins over in White River Junction are having a big hoedown for Easter, and Moe’s brother from Rutland will be there, so we’re thinking of goin’. I’ll probably make a broccoli casserole with Cheez Whiz in it, sprinkled with Ritz crackers on the top, and maybe a macaroni salad. Moe loves raisin pie so I’ll—”
“Nice, that’s nice, what’s . . .” I looked around and twirled my hair, trying not to appear obvious. “What’s Kerri doing?”
“Kerri? I think I heard her say she’s goin’ home to Idaho.”
I knew it! No wonder her house was dark. They’ve run off together to fly-fishing heaven. I so wanted to say something more obvious to her, but I was afraid. “How long will she be gone?”
“She didn’t say.” I sensed she was catching on but I couldn’t be sure. As Roberta strolled back into the kitchen, I followed behind and watched her pull on her panties.
“Say, Roberta, you don’t happen to have her parents’ number out in Idaho, do you?”
“Can’t say as I do.”
“What about Jeb? Do you think he knows the number?”
“You’ll have to ask him.” She turned to face me once she reached the sink. “What’s up? Do you think Kerri knows anything about Baker?”
I was already dialing Jeb’s home phone and never answered her question. When Jeb’s mama picked up she told me he was at work. “No he isn’t, Mrs. Duggar; he’s not over here,” I told her.
“I never said he was at your place. He’s busy working at JCW.”
Gosh, do you have to be so rude? “Oh, okay, would you mind having him call me right away, please?”
When ten minutes passed and I still hadn’t heard from him, I couldn’t stand it another second. Just as I was grabbing my coat to run across the street, he walked in the front door. “Jeb! I was just headed your way.”
“Mom called me on the intercom at JCW and told me you needed me. What’s up?” He was twisting that fool mustache again.
Before diving right into my inquisition, I needed a little clarification. “Wait a minute, y’all have an intercom at Jeb’s Computer World?”
“Yuup, Mom picked it up for me at a tag sale a few weeks ago. The woman who sold ’em swore they could pick up reception over a mile away. She bought ’em for her kid for Christmas but he never liked ’em. Best pair of walkie-talkies I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s . . . that’s . . . well, good for JCW,” was all I knew to say until I forced out the words, “Jeb, I was wondering, do you by any chance know how to get in touch with Kerri in Idaho?”
“Nuup, can’t say as I do. Why? Something wrong?”
“Oh no, no, no, nothing’s wrong. Except the fact that I haven’t seen my husband in almost forty-eight hours!”
“You don’t think Kerri knows any—”
“Not at all, I just thought she might have overheard Baker talking on the phone making plans. Or something like that.” Now I’d really done it. Jeb was definitely on to me. Great, that’s just great, I thought.
Out of nowhere and right at that exact moment I could have sworn I heard the faint echo of Kerri’s sickening cheery voice in the kitchen. I practically shoved Jeb to get around him and flew back to where I knew Roberta was fixing lunch for the girls.
“Roberta, I thought I heard Kerri.”
“You did,” answered the woman who had stolen my husband. She was standing there in the flesh and helping herself to a cup of my coffee. She must have slipped in through the back door. My competitor studied the stunned look upon my face and then had the audacity to say, “You look weird. Like you’re surprised to see me.” Northerners are so blunt it makes me sick.
I was dying to barrage her with questions, but how? “I just didn’t expect to see you here, that’s all.” I know she’s hiding him.
“Don’t you think I need my paycheck? You know how it is up here. I need every penny I can get to make it through the next two months.”
“Of course you do, don’t mind me. When are you running off? For Idaho, I mean?” Stay calm, Leelee. Get yourself together or she’ll see right through you.
“Probably not for another week.”
That’s odd, you would think they would want to get out of town immediately.
“Hey,” Kerri had the nerve to ask, “are you and Baker coming to Sugartree tomorrow? This is the last weekend the slopes are open. Since the conditions are so icy, they’re letting all the locals ski for free.”
Stop trying to throw me off track. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I had to say something. “I haven’t seen Baker in two days.”
Her hair was pulled straight back in a high ponytail. Brunette and gorgeous. Baker loves brunettes. “You have got to be kidding.”
“Would I kid about that?”
“No, I mean, God no. Where do you think he is?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking he might—” I wanted to scream at her but instead I burst out crying.
Kerri surprised me, I have to say. She put her hand on my back and drew me a little closer to her. “Leelee, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. Do you have any idea where he could be?”
I wanted to say: I thought he was with you. “No, and I can’t report him missing until tonight. I know you two had gotten close. Did he say anything you could share with me? I’m desperate for any information.”
“No. He always acted like he was so together and had the restaurant thing down. He sure had me fooled.”
Could she be telling the truth? Is there any way I can trust this Yankee broad? I bet she’d lie to me in a second to snag Baker. I was so confused my head was about to bust.
Pierre slipped into the kitchen with Gracie following right behind. Helga would have flipped if she had seen Gracie in the big kitchen, but thank the Lord she was in a foreign country by now.
I could tell Pierre was excited about his trip to France because his hair practically glowed from the jet-black Lady Clairol he must have freshly applied that morning. The black stain on the collar of his white shirt was more proof the amateur hairstylist had been hard at it.
“Bonjour, Leelee. Baker es back?”
“No, he’s not,” I said. I was wringing my hands and pacing back and forth in front of the coffeepot.
Jeb had slipped out to the mailbox and he wandered back into the kitchen whistling “Please Mr. Postman.” I was ready to slap him. My nerves were raw enough without his annoying habit. Even Pierre glared at Jeb like he wanted to take his head off.
Our eyes met and Jeb shot me back a curious look. I thought it was because I had come too close to letting my true feelings about Kerri slip and he was letting me know that he was on to me.