Shadows on a Cape Cod Wedding

by Lea Wait

  “That’s great,” said Jim. “One mission almost accomplished. What about the rest of your stuff?”

  “Most of it’s ready to go,” said Gussie. “A few last-minute things to pack, and there’s the furniture.”

  “How about moving tomorrow? We only have four days left until the wedding. And there’s your bachelorette party Friday night,” he reminded her. “Maybe you should have a couple of days in the house before then to get a bit settled.”

  Gussie hesitated. “Maggie and I would need tomorrow morning to pack.”

  “We’ll ask Diana to come and help,” Maggie suggested.

  “Fine,” Gussie agreed. “And after we’ve finished packing and you and your friends arrive we’ll go over to the new house. We’ll be there to make sure you guys put the furniture and boxes in the right rooms.”

  “Plans made, then,” said Jim. “I’ll call Andy tonight and check about the trucks.”

  On her way back to Gussie’s house from the restaurant Maggie remembered she’d hoped to stop at the Winslow police station the next day to talk with Chief Irons about what was happening with the investigations related to the murder and to the attempted arson. He might not talk to her, but she could try. She’d also thought of having another beer at the Lazy Lobster. She had a feeling the bartender there knew more than he was saying.

  Maybe she’d still have time.

  But it sounded as if Gussie had her booked for tomorrow. And with Gussie moving to her new house she’d have to move to one of the B and Bs.

  Plus, she really should call Will tonight. Maggie took a deep breath. Gussie was right. This weekend she had to tell Will about her adoption plans.

  And with him arriving in a matter of hours, she was getting nervous.

  She glanced down at her right hand, and her R-E-G-A-R-D ring sparkled back at her. Will was special.

  But so much in both their lives was changing. His move from Buffalo to Maine was still a work in progress. He’d been a longtime widower who hadn’t been responsible to anyone but himself. Now he had to think of a woman in her nineties who might need attention twenty-four hours a day.

  He’d had made it crystal clear, many times, that he didn’t want the responsibilities of parenthood. But without hesitation he’d volunteered to take care of his elderly aunt.

  He hadn’t asked Maggie how she felt about that, had he?

  Maggie shook her head. She was making excuses. She was fond of Aunt Nettie, too, and it had made sense that Will move to Maine to take care of her.

  Maggie was thirty-nine. She only had a few years left in which she could be a parent, and not feel as though it would be more logical for her to be a child’s grandparent.

  If Will had wanted to be a parent, too, that would have been perfect.

  But he hadn’t. He’d made his choice. Now she’d made hers. She just had to tell him.

  The next step would be up to him.

  And she had to be prepared for the possibility that her decision would end what otherwise was the most perfect relationship of her life.

  Maggie pulled her van into a space in back of Gussie’s old house.

  “Hey, Gussie!” she called out to her friend, whose van’s wheelchair lift had almost reached the ground. “Why don’t we open another bottle of that champagne I brought you? Tonight is your last night in this house. That deserves a few toasts.”

  Chapter 25

  Night Sky: September and October. From Half Hour with the Stars by Richard A Proctor, 1887. Lithograph showing round dark blue sky with Milky Way and constellations for certain fall dates in the Northern Hemisphere. For October 22, the time is 8:00 P.M. Stars of different magnitudes are shown with different numbers of points. One of a series showing the night sky throughout the year. 9 x 11 inches. Price: $50.

  The next day went by in a whirl of activity.

  Diana’s presence was a big help with the packing. Maggie’d hoped she’d talk a little more about what was happening on Apple Orchard Lane. But today Diana was quiet.

  “We’re fine,” she said. “The medical examiner hasn’t released Dad’s body yet, so we can’t plan a funeral.”

  And a little later, “Cordelia’s back working on her dolls. She’s promised customers some special orders, and she says focusing on work keeps her mind off other things. A nice man from the fire department came and cleaned that stuff off the porch. He said it might be paint remover, not gasoline, but whatever it was, he got most of it off, so we’re not worried anymore. It still smells a little, but he says it’s safe.”

  She seemed remarkably relaxed, considering all that had taken place in the past week. She and Gussie chatted about the wedding, and the guests, and she oohed and ahhed over Gussie’s dress and veil. They were getting along so well that Gussie asked if she’d like to help with preparations Saturday morning before the wedding. “Not too much, you understand. But a few ribbons and plants, and some flowers that the florist is sending. And maybe answer the phone and the door while I’m getting dressed.”

  Diana nodded her head excitedly, “Oh, yes. Please. I’d love to. Are you going to decorate your house for the wedding, too?”

  “No, we’re having the reception at one of the inns in town,” said Gussie.

  “But you have to hang a big white bow on your door!” Diana said. “Everyone does that when they get married. Especially when you have a new house. People from out of town will want to drive by to see it!”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Gussie said. “You’re right; not many people know where the house is. I like that idea. Let’s call Abigail at Floral Fantasies right now and see if she can do a wonderfully large bow for us!”

  And off they went.

  Maggie repacked her own suitcase; her possible dresses for the wedding were still hanging in her van. Gussie gave her directions to the B and B she’d reserved for “close friends and family,” and Maggie decided to check in after she’d made sure Gussie had all her personal things unpacked and accessible this afternoon. Everything might not be arranged exactly where she’d put them eventually, but at least they’d be in the master bedroom. And then everyone could leave her to have some peace.

  She deserved some before the wedding.

  Maggie was already planning what she might do after she’d checked into the B and B. A little peace for herself might not be bad.

  Jim and Andy and two other friends arrived with two pickup trucks at 11:30.

  Maggie looked at them dubiously. “You’re going to put everything in those trucks? Furniture and boxes and everything?”

  “Not to worry,” said Jim. “We’re only going a couple of miles. And we plan on making a couple of trips. We’ll start with the boxes.”

  Gussie took a final look around the building that had been her home and business for twenty years, blew it a kiss good-bye, and headed for her van. “Let’s get out of here, ladies. I don’t want to watch what’s going to happen now. We’ll deal with the results at the other end.”

  They parked down the street from her new house so the trucks could get close to the door. “Note well,” said Gussie, “the advantages to handicapped-accessible homes. Wide doors and ramps make moving a lot easier.”

  Gussie’d already called a friend who worked at a Winslow deli and who’d promised, as a special favor, that she’d deliver trays of assorted sandwiches, chips, cookies, sodas, and coffee.

  The women had time to arrange lunch on the kitchen counter and each eat at least half a sandwich before the men arrived with the first truck to be unloaded.

  After that there was little time for anything but organized chaos. Gussie directed the inside operation, telling anyone carrying a carton or piece of furniture what room it went into, and where exactly in that room it should be placed. Jim was in charge of getting the trucks loaded at the old house, and unloaded at the new one, trying to achieve some sort of order, so the pieces of a bed and its mattress arrived in somewhat the same time-frame.

  The system worked remarkably well.r />
  Maggie unpacked Gussie’s clothes and hung them in her half of the room-wide walk- (or roll-) in closet and filled her drawers while Diana checked all the arriving cartons and made sure they’d been put in the right rooms.

  Cartons holding fine china, silver, and extra kitchen accessories went in the extra bedroom, to be sorted later. Boxes of books and seasonal accessories went to the garage. At one point Gussie zoomed down to where Diana was stacking those cartons and directed, “Lights! Hold out any cartons of Christmas lights! I may use them in the shop when I decorate the windows!”

  “Will do,” answered Diana calmly. She seemed unflappable.

  “She’s amazing,” said Gussie as she stopped to see how Maggie was doing in the master bedroom. “She fits right in, and seems to anticipate what needs to be done.”

  “You’re right,” Maggie answered. “I’m almost finished in here. I did leave a little space in the closet for Jim, too.”

  Gussie touched her arm. “Love you. I couldn’t have gotten through all this without your help. And tomorrow we finish the store!”

  “I think I’ll take off at about four-thirty today, if that’s okay. I’ll go check in at the B and B and unpack my things. And you need to rest. The closer we get to the wedding, the crazier this week will get.”

  “You go ahead. We have lots of food left from lunch, so I have plenty for dinner, and Jim had the same idea. He’s going to take a plate of sandwiches and plans to collapse at his place. He wants to finish packing his clothes and a few other things tonight so he can move them here tomorrow.”

  “He’s not going to move in officially until the day of the wedding, though, right?”

  “No. And since his house hasn’t been sold, he’s leaving a lot of his furniture there for now. He has a lot more than I did; he has a bigger house. But most of his things are Victorian, and we’ll probably sell them, because they don’t fit with this house. We’re not worrying about that right now.”

  By four-thirty everything was in the house. It wasn’t in perfect order, but Gussie had moved. And was ready for a long nap. The trucks left; Diana left; Jim left; and then Maggie gave Gussie a big hug.

  “Your first night in your new home. Three nights to go! If you need me, call.”

  “I think I’ll collapse, thank you. Everything looks beautiful. I’m sorry Jim isn’t staying here tonight. But he’ll be here soon enough.”

  “And forever.”

  They smiled at each other.

  Maggie headed toward the B and B, a couple of miles north of town. As she drove she saw windows boarded up on two homes. Funny, she thought. I hadn’t noticed those this morning.

  And in the center of town plywood boards covered the windows of a gift shop.

  The Six Gables Inn, a brown-painted bed and breakfast, was just outside of town. It had an elegant but weathered look, sheltered by tall pines, and located far enough off the main road to have the illusion of country.

  Maggie draped her garment bag over her arm and picked up her suitcase. No other cars were parked outside. She must be the only guest tonight. Fine. Quiet sounded good after a long day of toting and carrying.

  And trust Gussie to ensure there was a ramp as an alternative to the staircase leading up to the wide porch. Tonight she didn’t feel like hoisting her suitcase up stairs.

  The inside of Six Gables was elegantly late-colonial. Maggie realized she was truly exhausted when she didn’t even care how authentic some of the décor was. She rang the brass Indian elephant bell on the desk.

  Mrs. Decker, the owner, appeared almost at once from the door on the left of the entrance hall. “Good afternoon, and welcome to Six Gables. You must be Ms. Summer.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Mrs. Decker smiled at her, with a glint of amusement in her eyes. What did she find so funny? Maggie reached up to pat her hair. Part of it had come undone, and she knew her sweatshirt was smudged with dust. But considering she’d been packing and moving boxes and unpacking all day, she didn’t think she looked that strange. “Would you like me to sign in?”

  “You can take care of that later. I believe you are who you say you are. I’m glad to see you. Ms. White specified that you were to have the yellow room; it has a king-sized bed. Number one, the first door on your right, at the head of the stairs. Go right up. Here’s your key. It opens both the front door and the door to your room. If you have any questions, my room is number nine on the intercom.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Decker.”

  Maggie took the key and started toward the staircase. “Oh, and Mrs. Decker? What time is breakfast?”

  “Seven-thirty, dear, unless you specify another time.”

  She headed up the flight of stairs to the second floor. That was one disadvantage to bed-and-breakfasts. She’d never yet stayed in one where there was an elevator.

  She put her key in the door to number one and threw open the door.

  A man was in the room.

  Chapter 26

  “Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting.” Tipped in lithograph (from a painting by Arthur Rackham), an illustration for John Milton’s Comus, written in 1634; this edition published in 1921. Milton’s poem about a water nymph was later quoted in a Broadway comedy by Samuel Taylor (1953,) a Billy Wilder movie (1954), and its remake (1995). Here Sabrina is pictured braiding her hair with lilies, under a wave. Rackham was known for his sinuous young women and his fairies, trolls, hidden images, animated trees, and other fantastic creatures painted in muted watercolors. 5 x 7.25 inches. Price: $65.

  Maggie dropped her bags. A dozen thoughts filled her mind. Had she confused the dates? Mrs. Decker downstairs had known! How bad did her hair really look?

  And then she didn’t think at all as Will pulled her into his arms and she felt safe and warm and as if they’d never been apart.

  After a few minutes, she pulled back, stood on her toes to kiss him on his nose, and reached down to pick up the garment bag crumpled at their feet. “I love you, but I want to look decent for Gussie and Jim on Saturday! My dresses for the wedding are in there. Where’s the closet, before we get back to more important issues?”

  Will threw back his head and laughed. “That’s my girl. Even prioritizing her love life. Closet’s over there.” He pointed at the corner of the large room. Maggie took approving note of the promised king-sized bed, which even had a canopy, and the fireplace, with stacked wood waiting beside it. “This place is like a picture in one of those ‘romantic getaway’ travel brochures.”

  “I was thinking of having the fire started when you arrived, but I wasn’t sure when that would be, and I thought we might want to save the wood for later tonight,” said Will, nuzzling her ear as she managed to hang her garment bag in the closet. “Perhaps after we have a quiet dinner somewhere. And you have some of your favorite sherry.”

  “Mmmm,” said Maggie, sitting on the bed. “You’re tempting me. Successfully. When did you get in? And how did you get here? I didn’t see your RV in the driveway.”

  “I didn’t bring the RV. I knew I had a room at a wonderful B and B. I borrowed Aunt Nettie’s car. It’s in back of the building, in case you might have recognized it, or wondered about a car with Maine license plates. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Which you did. Although clearly Mrs. Decker knew,” said Maggie.

  “And Gussie,” said Will, joining her on the bed.

  “Gussie, too?”

  “I wanted to be sure you’d be here tonight.” Will kissed her forehead and unfastened the section of her hair that was still pinned up, so it tumbled down her back. “I got the house and Aunt Nettie set for whatever Hurricane Tasha brings, and Tom was able to come a day early after all, so I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, they’re talking about closing bridges Thursday, so I might not have been able to get through tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to miss the wedding.” He started to ease her down onto the pillows, gently combing his fingers through her tousled hair.

  “Wait a minute.” Maggie pop
ped up. “Hurricane Tasha? You mean there’s really a hurricane that close?”

  “You really don’t have a clue? It’s been all over the TV for days. The storm went east of Florida and is traveling up the coast, aimed directly for Cape Cod, the Islands, and Maine.”

  “But…what does that old mariner’s rhyme say? About when hurricanes hit?”

  “‘June, too soon; July, stand by; August, if you must; September, remember; October, all over.’”

  “Right! And this is the end of October. There are jack-o’-lanterns on porches! This is not hurricane season!”

  “Well, if you stopped thinking about bridal dresses and wedding cake, you might have noticed that global warming has changed the climate considerably since mariners wrote that rhyme, and most people in the northeast have taken their pumpkins inside in preparation for the storm. The National Weather Service now says hurricane season is from June until November. And Hurricane Tasha appears to be trying her darnedest to be getting in under the deadline.”

  “Gussie’s TV was disconnected and she hasn’t got service in her new home yet. Is there a television in this place?”

  “Oh, Maggie. A man drives all the way from Maine to the Cape with a hurricane on the way to see the woman he loves, and the first thing she wants to do—”

  “I want to listen to the Weather Channel!”

  Will shook his head. “The TV’s hidden behind the picture over the fireplace. The remote is in the drawer next to the bed. I checked it out before you got here.”

  Maggie reached over and opened the drawer.