by Terri Thayer
Using his foot, he slammed the door shut and pushed April up against it. He tried to push on her neck with his forearm. She squirmed away, stomping on his instep with all of her weight.
He took her place against the door, blocking her way as he rubbed his foot.
“Women,” he spat. “They’re never satisfied. Trish thought I wanted her to leave her husband and come with me. I never wanted that.”
So it wasn’t Traczewski who had killed Trish. It was him. April’s blood ran cold. She saw the eyes of a killer looking back at her. He killed Xenia first, and then Trish.
“It’s your fault, you know. I was ready to leave town days ago. I wouldn’t have stuck around so long if you hadn’t come up with the brilliant idea of having Clive Pierce and that Villarreal girl sing on the telethon. The extra money was too good to pass up.”
He lunged for her in a fluid motion. April screamed and jumped back, knocking over the jug of walking sticks. Ferguson stumbled on them, looking like an inept log roller. He fell to the floor. April grabbed a walking stick and stabbed him in the chest, pinning him to the ground.
His eyes were snakelike now, evil and calculating. She knew he was just biding his time, catching his breath, gathering his strength before he came after her again.
She pushed harder on the walking stick, feeling him expel his breath.
“What did Xenia do to you? Find out about your schemes? Try to blackmail you?” she asked, feeling the rage. Xenia had had a long life ahead of her. Her children would grow up without a mother. Why?
He moved again, and April shoved hard with everything she had. The walking stick slipped off his chest and he rolled. He lumbered to his feet. She grabbed for another and swung at his head as if it were a softball. He fell, clutching his forehead.
Rocky burst through the door, with Mitch right behind her. Ferguson’s eyes fluttered. He was out cold.
Mitch gathered April in his arms.
“Good thing my brother didn’t believe you,” Rocky said. Then, poking at Ferguson’s shorts, she added, “Dang. I was really hoping to look up his kilt.”
The stampers were gathered in the Harcourt Room at the club. It was the day before Bonnie’s wedding and they were decorating.
Suzi came in with a large bouquet of money plant. The dried seed pods had gone translucent. She planned to pair them with orange berries and red roses. The result would be enchanting.
She set those down and pushed a long box toward April. “I got the roses at the flower market in Philadelphia this morning. Aren’t they beautiful?”
April glanced inside. The roses were deep red, mature and complex. April touched one of the flowers, amazed at how intricately the petals were entwined. By this time tomorrow, the outer edges would open, revealing the whorls of color. April thought about her mother, wound so tight. Clive had begun to unravel her. In a good way.
“Help,” Deana said, her voice distant.
Rocky was on a ladder, draping the ceiling with what looked like a parachute. She held a staple gun and used it noisily. Mary Lou was steadying the ladder, and Deana was nearly hidden, holding the rest of the gathered fabric in her arms.
April rushed in to assist. She took some of Deana’s burden. Dee smiled at her. Up close, April could see the material had been stamped with glittery stars and moons. She looked up at the ugly ceiling tile and imagined the ethereal look that Rocky was going for.
“Rocky, this is going to be amazing,” she said, choking up.
“April, don’t start crying now,” Mary Lou warned. “Save your tears for the actual wedding.”
April rubbed her sleeve across her cheeks, unable to let go of the parachute without causing Deana to tip over. “I know, I know. I’m just so happy.”
Deana laughed. “Things turned out okay, didn’t they?”
April nodded. “Most things. The Villarreals moved into their house yesterday. Mitch and I were up all night Sunday . . .”
April waited for Rocky’s snide remark, but none came. Progress.
“I was stamping the walls in the bathroom while Mitch installed the carpet in the boys’ bedroom. You should see the mural Vanesa painted in her room.”
“I helped,” Rocky said. She grinned down at April, who nodded.
Mitch and April had been joined by Rocky for several hours. Rocky had been a trouper, taking a bucket of sudsy water to all the washable surfaces and hanging curtains, making sure the house looked great for the family.
“How about Ferguson? Is he going to get what’s coming to him?” Mary Lou asked, turning to April. The ladder tipped. Suzi ran over to right it.
“Watch what you’re doing, please,” Rocky called. Her voice was muffled, pillowed by the fabric.
“So-rry,” Mary Lou sang out.
Suzi went back across the room, back to arranging flowers in vases. She said, “That creep says he’s sorry, that he didn’t intend things to get out of hand. He keeps saying if the police will let him out of jail, he could pay everyone back.”
April said, “That’s not going to happen.”
The thought of elderly couples like the Campbells putting their trust in Ferguson angered April, and no one in this room disagreed with her.
“He has to pay for what he did,” April insisted, unable to resist a final jab. “There are consequences.”
“Like new roommates for you,” Mary Lou said, one foot on the bottom rung. She laughed, trying to break the tension in the room.
April took a breath. Scott Ferguson was under arrest. Justice would be done.
“My new roommates are marvelous,” she said in an exaggerated voice. “She’s a wonderful cook, and he’s a great handyman.”
Deana winked at her. She knew Deana was proud of her for adjusting to her new circumstances. Deana lifted the last bit of fabric to Rocky, leaving April free to move over to join Suzi.
April stuck a piece of baby’s breath in a vase and then continued her description of the Campbells. “They only sleep four hours a night and watch Fox News incessantly. She snores louder than an eighteen-wheeler trying to get up the mountain, and he passes gas as though he’s going for a gold medal.”
Rocky snorted from atop the ladder. Mary Lou giggled. The ladder shook.
April went on. “The good news is that they scared Ken off. One look at the way I was living, with old folks sleeping in the living room and a booster seat on my toilet, and he signed the divorce papers and hightailed it back to California.”
The rest of the parachute billowed out of Deana’s grasp as Rocky tacked the last bit. The result was amazing. The entire ceiling was covered in gauzy white folds.
Rocky climbed down, shaking her arms out. Holding them over her head for so long had taken its toll. She stood in front of April. “So it’s official? You’re divorced?”
April nodded. “I just need to file.”
Rocky’s eyes narrowed.
April held up her hands. “It’s just a procedure. The lawyer has everything in place. I’m practically divorced. Really.”
Rocky slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Welcome to the Winchesters. I don’t know why you’d want to date a dweeb like my brother or join a family as crazy as ours, but I’m glad you’re willing.”
“You’re scaring me,” April said, laughing.
“Love ain’t for the faint of heart,” Rocky said.
Deana said, “And Rocky will be your new boss, too.”
Rocky had taken over the Stamping Sisters line. Trish’s husband wanted nothing to do with it.
April wasn’t sure how that was going to work out. She and Rocky had very different styles. “When do we start production on my California Dreamin’ line? And then the home dec stamps, and—”
“Slow down, April,” Rocky said. “I need to get up to speed first.”
April smiled and said no more. It better not take too long, though.
“Take a look,” Mary Lou said.
She turned off the lights. The day was gray and rain
y with a forecast of snow, so the room was as dark as it would be tomorrow night when Bonnie and Clive got married. The five women watched as the room transformed.
The silk parachute was backlit with bright white twinkle lights. The glitter on the stamps caught the light and tossed it around. Suzi’s roses reflected red on the walls.
April looked around the room. The tables were still bare, but she knew these friends she had found would make them beautiful, too. That’s what they did. Out of the ordinary, the mundane, with a little love and a lot of effort, came the marvelous. The kind of beauty that would make Bonnie’s wedding extra special.
She hugged them all in turn and said thank you. She let the tears fall so they could see how much their work meant to her.
CHAPTER 24
“Mom,” April began. She entered her mother’s bedroom with her hands behind her back, her fingers turning the gloves around and around. She stopped her nervous act. She didn’t want to hand her mother a crumpled ball of fabric.
Bonnie turned. “April, I’m glad you’re here. I need help with this zipper. I think I gained weight since I bought this dress. Clive is marrying a sausage roll, I swear. I look like a pea in a pod, all bumpy.”
April kissed her mother’s cheek. Soft and yielding, April felt her mother’s shoulders come down a notch.
“You look beautiful,” April began.
Bonnie waved her off. “Good thing Clive likes his women with lots of meat on their bones.”
“Stop. He likes you.”
Bonnie’s hands fluttered impatiently. April knew the nerves were not just about standing up and saying her vows in front of all of her friends.
“Zip me.”
“Hang on.” April came around in front of her mother. She put the gloves in one hand and rubbed Bonnie’s arm with the other. Bonnie took a breath and smiled a half-smile at her daughter.
“Why am I so nervous?” she asked. “It’s only a wedding.”
April laughed. “Maybe it means a little more than you’re willing to admit,” she said.
Bonnie’s forehead creased. “I love him, you know.”
April nodded. “I do know. We all know. We can see it.”
“Oh god, does Clive know? I’d die if he didn’t know.”
“He knows, Mom. He loves you back. And it’s wonderful to see.”
Bonnie took a deep breath. April brought the gloves from behind her back.
“Look what I have,” she said, offering the pair.
“Oh my,” Bonnie said. She took the gloves from April and ran her fingertip down the seam. “Grandma Grace’s gloves.”
“Third time’s the charm?” April said, laughing.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not doing this again. This marriage is my last.”
“So the gloves did work, after all. It just takes us a little longer than most.”
April hurried into the Harcourt Room just before Clive and Bonnie made their entrance. The rest of the guests were already inside.
Ed and Vince sat with relatives of Clive. From the crease in Ed’s forehead, he was having trouble understanding their accents.
The Stamping Sisters’ table was the next one over, close to where Bonnie and Clive would sit at small table for two, under an arbor laced with vines that Suzi had dotted with fresh cymbidium orchids. Deana and Mark, Mary Lou and her husband, Suzi and Rocky had already taken their seats and raised a glass to April as she sat down, fresh from posing for family portraits. They were waiting for the bride and groom to make an appearance.
The wedding ceremony had taken place in the gazebo an hour earlier. Clive had insisted on it being held outside despite the fact that the November day was sunny but cold, the heat wave of two weeks ago all but forgotten. Most of the guests had headed straight for the bar. Ruddy cheeks were still on display, and Ed couldn’t stop blowing into his hands to warm them up.
A side table groaned with the weight of food cooked by Pedro. He and his coworkers had cooked all day yesterday, forbidding Bonnie access to the kitchen. April didn’t have to ask him. He’d insisted on cooking for Bonnie.
“How’s our bride doing?” Deana asked.
April sighed and took a sip of the wine someone had poured for her. “Still insisting she didn’t want photos taken. Still insisting she didn’t want to be fussed over. But she can’t stop smiling, and neither can Clive. I swear, he’s going to trip walking in here because he can’t take his eyes off her.”
The door opened. The guests stood. The justice of the peace who married them called for their attention.
“It’s my pleasure to introduce to you the newest married couple in Aldenville,” he said. “Mr. and Mrs. Clive Pierce.”
They all cheered as Bonnie and Clive walked into the room, arm in arm. Clive was dapper in a three-piece suit. Bonnie had found the perfect dress for herself, a pink satin that gave her skin a warm glow. Of course, she was radiant from within today.
April was still thinking about the wedding vows her mother and Clive had written together. What had started out as a way to keep Clive in the country had morphed into a real wedding. The vows had reflected that.
Getting married meant having hope, they’d said. Hope and trust. Hope that marriage would make their lives better in some way. That being a couple was not just about being two people together but becoming a third entity, a married couple, that was better and stronger than just two alone.
April looked over at Mitch. He’d brought the entire Villarreal family and was entertaining the little ones by dangling spoons off his cheek. He winked at her, and she felt a flood of warmth rush through her. Was it love? She wasn’t sure yet. They needed time to grow as a couple.
Vince and Ed came over to the table.
“You girls did a marvelous job decorating,” Vince said.
Ed was scrutinizing the curtains. “Those look familiar.”
“The windows were bare,” Suzi explained. “We had to do something drastic.”
“As God is my witness,” Mary Lou said, channeling Scarlett O’Hara, “windows will never go undressed again.”
The stampers laughed. Ed looked confused.
“Aunt Barbara donated the fabric,” Rocky said.
“Does she know?” Vince teased.
Ed’s eyes narrowed. “Those are the drawing room drapes,” Ed said, horrified.
“I’ll put them back where I found them tomorrow,” Rocky said. “She’ll never know.”
April put her hand on her father’s arm to steady him and shot him a look of warning. He’d be anxious about it if she let him. Vince grabbed him by the other arm. Ed relaxed a bit.
“No later than tomorrow,” he said, unable to resist one last parry.
April left them to go sit with Mitch. She kissed him as she sat down.
“God, you’re freezing,” he said. He took her face in his hands and kissed her cheeks. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Jonathan and Greg were making gagging noises across the table. Their spoons fell over their faces and they giggled.
“You look nice,” April said to them. Jonathan, Greg and Tomas were dressed in matching blue dress shirts and dress pants. Erika crawled down from her father’s lap and stood next to April so April could admire her red velvet dress. She fluffed out the full skirt, showing off the lace petticoat.
April bent down. “You are as pretty as a fairy princess,” she said. Erika smiled at her. April’s heart hurt for the mother who didn’t get to see her daughter looking so sweet and lovely.
Vanesa caught her eye. April wondered what would happen to her Hollywood dreams now. April would bet she’d stick around to see Erika grow up.
Mitch turned his chair away from the table. April pulled up a chair so she was facing him. “Look at this.”
April shot him a questioning glance.
“The state police gave Xenia’s things to Pedro. In her purse was this, for me.”
Mitch handed April a piece of construction paper, folded i
n half. April took her eyes off his ravaged face and opened it up. It was a child’s drawing, of a house and seven sunflowers, ranging in height. Each flower face was grinning and had a name printed above it, naming all the Villarreals. The sun was shining brightly. A dialog bubble ran from the tallest figure. The words in childish crooked printing read: “Thank you, Mr. Mitch Winchester, for giving us our new home.”
April’s throat swelled. Mitch had tears in his eyes.
“This is what Xenia wanted to give me the day of the maze.”
“Mitch . . .”
They leaned into each other, letting their bodies absorb their tears. “Those kids have a home because of you,” she said.
“And they have justice because of you.”
A tinkling noise cut through the chatter in the room. Clive was banging on his water glass with his knife. April wondered if he’d been tippling in the garden. His voice was high and squeaked. He cleared his throat and started again.
“A toast.” Clive raised his glass, first to Bonnie, then to the group at large. “To Homeland Security!”
“To the chap who got my darling to do what all my cajoling, downright begging could not: get my luv to marry me. Cheers,” he said.
Laughter rippled through the tables. But one person didn’t see the joke. Bonnie said peevishly, “You know, it wasn’t you. It was marriage.”
Bonnie glanced at Ed. She held his gaze and April held her breath. Was her mother going to go there now?
April felt herself stiffen. She checked the exits. She had a clear path to French doors that led out to an empty patio. She pictured herself running across the frosty grass, her feet crunching the ice off the blades.
Bonnie took a deep breath and stood, holding her glass in toast.
“I’m not much of a public speaker, so forgive me. But I do have something to say.”
April’s spine straightened.
Bonnie lowered her glass and tore her eyes away from Ed’s face to gaze at her daughter. The room was quiet. April felt that Bonnie was speaking just to her.