Almost Home

by Mariah Stewart

  “Good point.” Stef pointed to the fireplace. “Does that work?”

  “Sure. Hal told me to have a chimney sweep clean it out last year after I bought the place. We used it a couple of times last winter. Grady had some wood delivered so that it would be seasoned when the cold weather gets here.”

  “Then it’s ice cream, popcorn, and s’mores for sure. I’ll bring the goodies.” Stef turned her attention back to the list. “Oh, but look! Grace Ellison’s name is here.”

  “Who’s Grace Ellison?”

  “Miss Grace.”

  “Really? Well, that explains it,” Vanessa told her. “Miss Grace asks me every other week if I’ve found any journals or diaries that Miz Ridgeway might have kept.” Her eyes danced with mischief. “Now we know why. She’s afraid I’ll find these and tell everyone.”

  “We’re not going to tell anyone.”

  “Of course not. I suppose it could be embarrassing for a woman to have her sixty-year-old business put out there for everyone to know about,” Vanessa agreed. “But I am going to let her know that I found the journals. I think she’d like to have them.”

  Vanessa’s phone rang and she excused herself to take the call. Steffie continued reading the journals that had been written in Alice Ridgeway’s delicate hand. When Vanessa returned, she apologized.

  “Sorry. It was Maggie. She just wanted to know if I was all right with her staying at Hal’s for a while. Which, of course, I am not.”

  “Not really your business, though.”

  “She made it my business by asking.”

  Vanessa was clearly unhappy that her mother, Maggie Turner, had come to St. Dennis seeking a relationship with not only her daughter, but her son, Beck, and Beck’s father, Hal Garrity, as well. Everyone in town knew that Maggie and Hal had been in love once upon a time, and that Maggie, finding herself pregnant with Beck after Hal had deployed for Vietnam, had married another man. Until recently, though, no one—not Hal, or Beck, or Vanessa—had heard the real story—the whole story—that Maggie’s parents had forced their very young, pregnant daughter to marry a man she didn’t love. That marriage had been doomed from the beginning, as had all of Maggie’s subsequent marriages. Vanessa still wasn’t sure just how many trips to the altar her mother had taken, but lately, it was pretty clear that Maggie had her heart set on winning back Hal. For his part, Hal showed absolutely no signs of resisting her efforts, a fact that wasn’t lost on her son or her daughter—or anyone else in St. Dennis.

  “I hope to God Maggie never finds out about the love spells,” Vanessa grumbled. “Hal would be a goner for sure.”

  “I hate to be the one to point this out, but Hal’s already over the moon as far as your mother is concerned.”

  “Well, that just makes my night.” Vanessa took back the book and closed it, sending a puff of dust into the air. They both sneezed.

  “Hal loves her, Ness.”

  “God only knows why.”

  “She’s pretty and she’s charming when she wants to be, and she cares about him.”

  “She’s charming because she wants something from him.”

  “What do you think she wants, Ness? You’ve said yourself that her last husband left her well off, so she isn’t after his money.” Stef took the book back from Vanessa. “I think she wants to be a family again.”

  “She waited long enough to do that.”

  “Better late than never.”

  “Not necessarily. Besides, Beck still doesn’t want to have anything to do with her. After the way she dumped him on Hal’s doorstep when he was fourteen, I can’t say that I blame him.”

  “Ness, I know you had it hard growing up …”

  “Hard?” Vanessa snorted. “We moved more times than I can remember, she was never without a man in her life, and she changed men as often as she changed our address. I didn’t even know that I had a brother—well, half brother—until I was in my twenties and she told me to come to St. Dennis and meet him and his father.”

  “How many times have you said that was the best thing that ever happened to you?”

  “Coming to St. Dennis was the best thing that ever happened to me. No one ever had a better big brother than Beck, or a finer father than Hal. Okay, so he isn’t my real father, but he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to one. All that being true doesn’t make everything else my mother did right or excusable.”

  “Hal is a good man, Ness. He has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. And besides, he never stopped loving her. He, of all the people I know, deserves to be happy.”

  When Vanessa started to protest, Stef said, “And has it ever occurred to you that maybe Maggie never stopped loving him, either? That maybe all those years, all that time, she was just trying to re-create what she’d had with Hal?”

  “Well, I don’t want her trying to re-create it with the help of this book.”

  “While you were on the phone, I read a few more pages. I think Miz Ridgeway was more amused by the girls than anything else. She says … where did I see it …?” Steffie scanned the pages again.

  “Oh, here. Listen to this.” Stef began to read aloud.

  “The girls were back at my door today, wanting to know if they could come in to visit. Well, my curiosity got the best of me and I did invite them in. One by one, I asked them to tell me their names. These children … and they’re all just children, I think Berry Eberle might be the oldest of the girls who have called on me but she wasn’t with this bunch today. None more than sixteen or seventeen, I would guess. I served tea, as I would have done for their mothers or their aunts—all of whom are well known to me, which made the entire exchange that much more amusing.”

  “Amusing?” Vanessa asked. “She said ‘amusing’?”

  Stef nodded. “She goes on to say how these girls finally came right out and asked her about her magic, and would she teach them how to cast love spells, but she told them she thought they were a bit young and perhaps they could talk again when the girls were older. Then she adds, I thought that would be the end of it, but two of the girls came back—alone—over the next few days, and since they were the older ones from the group, and seemed most sincere, I made up something on the spot and that seemed to satisfy them.”

  Stef looked up at Vanessa. “Don’t you think that means that the whole thing was just sport to her? She said she ‘made something up on the spot.’ If she knew any ‘real spells’—if there are such things—she wouldn’t have had to make one up.”

  “I don’t know. She has pages where she lists combinations of words, and then she has books where she talks about this combination of herbs or that.” Vanessa pointed to another of the books on the table. “There. Open that one.”

  Stef did, and found page after page of herbal combinations, written in the same fine hand as the journal.

  “These could be recipes for just about anything. Remedies to cure colds or fevers or keep ants out of the pantry.”

  “If they were recipes, wouldn’t she have noted that? Wouldn’t that say, ‘Treat a cold with this’ or something?”

  “I have no idea.” Stef sneezed. “Sorry. The dust is starting to get to me.”

  “I think they’re herbs that she used with spells. I bet one of them is a love potion. Don’t you remember, when I moved in, there were bunches of dried plant stuff over all the doors and window?” Vanessa folded her arms over her chest. “I bet they were herbs and she was using them to ward off evil spirits or evil spells.”

  Stef paged through the book slowly. Was there such a thing as a love potion? If so, was it in this book?

  “I don’t believe in love potions or love spells,” she said aloud.

  “But if there was one, wouldn’t you want to know?” Vanessa poked at Stef. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to slip a little something to a certain someone? Wouldn’t you say the right combination of words if you thought it would—”

  “No, I would not.” Stef closed the book.

  “Seriously?”
>
  “I don’t think it’s love if you have to cast a spell on someone.” Steffie added, “You didn’t have to cast a spell on Grady, and he’s head over heels in love with you.”

  “That’s different. We’re soul mates.”

  Stef rolled her eyes. “Well, would you have wanted him if the only way you could have gotten him was to use magic? Which I don’t believe in, as well you know.”

  “If he hadn’t fallen in love with me, would I have used magic to make him love me?” Vanessa pondered the question, then nodded. “Unapologetically, yes. And don’t you try to act like you’re all above the notion, missy.”

  Vanessa grabbed the book from Steffie’s lap. She opened it to a page and began to read in a low voice.

  “Vanessa, what are you doing?” Steffie asked, but her friend continued to read.

  “There,” Vanessa said a moment later, after she’d finished and closed the book.

  “There what?”

  “There, I did it for you.” Vanessa smiled smugly.

  “Did what for me?” Steffie’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

  “I cast a spell so that your soul mate would find you. Don’t worry, I didn’t mention any names. I just sort of threw the idea out there. The universe will pick it up, and—”

  “You realize I don’t believe any of this, and I think you made up whatever it was that you were just muttering.”

  “Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t. In any case, we’ll see what we see, won’t we?”

  “You’re as crazy as Alice Ridgeway, you know that?” Steffie laughed. “I think you need to call Grace tomorrow and let her know that you found what she’s been after.” She yawned and rose. “I’ve had enough for tonight, Ness.”

  Vanessa stood also and walked her friend to the door. “Maybe I’ll ask Miss Grace which of these incantations she used.”

  “You do that.” Yawning again, Stef opened the front door and stepped outside.

  “Obviously it worked. She told me once that she and her Dan were married when she was eighteen after they’d dated for only three months.” Vanessa leaned against the doorjamb. “They went through college together, as young marrieds. Isn’t that the most romantic thing you ever heard?”

  “They’d known each other all their lives, Ness. They grew up together. It hadn’t taken a potion or a spell for them to fall in love.”

  “Maybe so, but then again … maybe not.”

  Stef laughed and hurried to her car. The air had grown crisp and cool while she’d been inside, and rain had started to fall. She debated on whether to go back to Olive Street, but knowing that she wasn’t likely to get any painting done tonight, she headed back to her apartment. It was still early enough for her to experiment with yet one more batch of lavender honey ice cream. She’d found dozens of recipes online, and though so far she hadn’t found one totally to her liking, she was certain she would find the one that, with a few additions of her own, would be perfect for Dallas’s birthday gift.

  She turned onto her street, still intrigued by Vanessa’s reaction to finding the journals left in her home by the previous owner. Everyone in town knew Alice Ridgeway, and everyone knew that she never left that house. To Steffie’s mind, Alice’s “dabbling” was no more than a lonely woman’s attempt to amuse herself and fill the many empty hours she spent locked inside her home. The curiosity of some of St. Dennis’s teenage girls wasn’t at all surprising, since many girls of that age are impressionable and might find the whole idea of casting a love spell dramatic and romantic, both of which would hold a certain appeal.

  Vanessa, however, wasn’t a teenager anymore, so for her to show interest in the very idea that such a thing was possible struck Steffie as a bit curious in its own right. Steffie smiled in the darkness as she pulled into her driveway. First the Ouija board, now a book of spells. What would Vanessa come up with next?

  Of course, she could only be pretending to believe, Stef reminded herself. In which case, her casting a love spell on Stef’s behalf into the—what had she said, the universe?—was sort of endearing. The sort of thing a best friend would do as a way of assuring you that the love of your life really was out there somewhere.

  In which case, Stef thought as she unstrapped her seat belt and prepared to run through the rain, she hoped he’d hurry up. Despite her protests to the contrary, she could use some help with the painting.

  “What are you doing, dear?” Berry peered through the doorway of the carriage house, Ally, as always, at her side.

  “I’m looking for a ladder.” Wade stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips, and surveyed the contents. “There used to be one in here. I told Steffie we had one she could borrow. She’s painting the kitchen in her house.”

  “I imagine Grant would have one she could use,” Berry pointed out.

  “I told her I’d bring her one.”

  “I see,” Berry said with that all-too-familiar tone that told Wade she understood there was more than a ladder at stake here. “Try over there on your right, dear. Nearer to the wall. Look around near the canoe.”

  “Why don’t you come in here and give me a hand,” he teased.

  “Are you crazy?” Berry harrumphed. “I’ve seen those shows on TV where people have piles of things that reach close to the ceiling, sort of like the way things are stacked in here. I’m not giving that old sled an opportunity to jump off that pile and land on my head.”

  Wade laughed. “You’re talking about hoarders.”

  “Anyone looking inside here would suspect me of doing just that.”

  “The place could use a good cleaning out.” He found the ladder against the wall and carried it outside, where he tested it and found it slightly unstable and covered with cobwebs. “I guess I should hose this off and then pound in a nail here and there where I think it’s a little weak. I doubt she’d appreciate me bringing a ladder that was covered with spiderwebs and likely to collapse.”

  “Who wouldn’t appreciate you?” Berry appeared momentarily distracted.

  “Steffie.”

  “Remind me. Why does Steffie need a ladder?” Berry asked.

  “She’s painting the kitchen in her house,” he told her. “The house she inherited from her cousin Horace. It’s on Olive Street.”

  “I remember Horace’s house on Olive Street.” Berry nodded. “I went to several parties there—years ago, of course.”

  “Well, it’s Steffie’s house now, and she’s redoing it before she moves in. It’s pretty dingy and dark inside and it hasn’t been painted in a dog’s age.” He leaned over and patted Ally on the head. “No offense, girl.”

  “When were you at Steffie’s?”

  “Austin and I were walking past the house the other night when Stef was unloading paint from her car. I helped her carry everything inside, so she gave us the tour. It’s a really nice house.”

  Berry smiled. “I always thought that house had charm. The arched doorways, the leaded windows, the wainscot, the tiles around the fireplace—it’s just a lovely, warm, friendly house.”

  “I agree.” Wade hooked the old hose up to an outside spigot and turned it on. Water sprayed through cracks in the hose, which leaked like a sieve. “I guess I should run out to the hardware store and get a new one. This one is beat. I can pick up some nails and just stabilize a rung here and there.”

  “What were you going to do with the hose?” Berry frowned.

  “I was going to clean off the ladder.” He stood and dropped the nozzle. He went to the spigot and turned off the water. “Berry, are you all right?”

  “Of course I am.” She appeared puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “That’s the second time in this conversation that you seemed to miss a beat.” He shook his head.

  “What are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed and shot a laser beam directly to his.

  Well, he thought, she hasn’t forgotten The Look.

  “First you asked me why I needed a ladder, and I told you it wa
s for Steffie, who’s painting the kitchen in her house,” he said gently. “Then a few minutes later, you asked me to remind you why Steffie needed a ladder.”

  Berry shrugged. “So?”

  “So then I said I was going to wash the cobwebs off the ladder, and two minutes later you asked me why I needed a hose.”

  Berry waved a hand as if to dismiss him. “I’m a little distracted, and a little tired. I’m not used to having such a young one in the house. Not,” she hastened to add, “that I’d have it any other way. I adore that boy, as I suspect you know.”

  Wade nodded. “I do know that, and I’m grateful that you’re putting us up for a while.”

  “I’m not rushing you, of course I don’t want you to go, but I’m just wondering when you’re leaving for Connecticut.”

  “I was planning on leaving next week, but I think now I’ll wait until after Dallas’s birthday party.”

  “That’s only the weekend after this one coming.”

  “I know.”

  She started across the yard, but the uneven terrain made Wade nervous that she might fall. She didn’t seem as steady on her feet as she used to be. He left the ladder leaning against the carriage-house wall and locked the door, then took Berry’s arm and together they started across the lawn. Ally ran ahead to chase a dozen or so Canada geese from the grass. The birds squawked as they scattered and sought refuge on the river.

  “It’s a lovely morning,” she said. “Can you sit with me for a few minutes over there under the trees?”

  “Sure.” He glanced up at the house. Austin was still napping and Dallas was inside reading. She’d let him know if his son woke up.

  There were several white Adirondack chairs, and Berry lowered herself into the closest one.

  “Don’t you love to watch the river on days like this?” She smiled and gazed out across the water. “I know that fall is in the air and I know what the calendar says, but on days like this, I just want to hold on to the very last threads of summer. The sky is always so blue this time of the year.”