“We’d better get going, I guess.” Sam held out his hand to the minister. “See you, Reverend.”
“See you, Sam. Have a good day, Jessica.” Reverend Ben nodded encouragingly at the boy. “Good-bye, young man. I hope to see you again.”
“Count on it,” Darrell said, making both Sam and the minister smile.
Jessica, however, was stonily silent as they walked to the car and got in. She sat without saying a word all the way to her mother’s house.
Darrell was the first one out of the car when Sam parked in front of Lillian’s.
“Hey.” Sam reached over and gently touched Jessica’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly.
It’s going to be a disaster, Jessica wanted to respond, but all she said was, “I hope you’re right.”
They both got out of the car to find Darrell standing perfectly still. He seemed hesitant to go any farther.
“What’s the matter, pal? Feel okay?” Sam stared down at Darrell curiously.
Darrell looked up at him and then back at the imposing three-story Victorian. “We’re going in there?”
Sam nodded. “Sure, that’s where Jessica’s mother lives.”
“Is it haunted?” His voice trembled with fear. “It looks like a haunted house.”
Sam grinned and glanced at Jessica, who was frowning at the house, realizing that the boy had a point. The house was the kind of Victorian relic Darrell had likely only seen in the movies: a three-story mansard-roofed structure, charcoal gray with faded white trim and black shutters. On this overcast, chilly winter day, she had to admit, it did look like something out of an Edward Gorey cartoon.
“No, it’s not haunted. Now come on, Darrell. We’re late,” Sam coaxed him. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Darrell nodded and took Sam’s hand in a firm grip.
“The house is just old and needs to be painted. There’s nothing to be frightened of,” Jessica said as they started up the walk.
Darrell glanced at her but didn’t reply. Jessica felt the old familiar tension in her stomach as they climbed the steps to the porch. There were ghosts here, she knew very well. But not the kind that would matter to Darrell or even Sam. Ghosts from her family’s past, denied by everyone, but still lingering in the shadows.
At the front door, before they could stop him, Darrell reached up and pressed the doorbell three times. Jessica blanched; her mother would hate that.
“Calm down,” Sam whispered in her ear. “It’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t,” she insisted quietly. “And you’re going to explain it to her.”
The door swung open. Jessica was relieved to see her sister, not her mother, standing there. Emily took them in with a welcoming smile that did not falter for an instant as it landed on Darrell, who stood beside Sam.
“Come on in. You’ve brought your friend from church, I see.” She stepped aside to let them enter then held out her hand to Darrell. “Hi. I’m Emily Warwick.”
Darrell looked confused for a moment then shook Emily’s hand. “Hi. I’m Darrell.”
Sam put his hand on Darrell’s shoulder. “Emily is Jessica’s sister. She’s also the mayor of Cape Light.”
Darrell stared up at Emily and gave a short nod. “Cool,” he said.
“Did you hear that? I’m finally cool. I like this boy already.” Emily smiled, looking pleased with the compliment.
Jessica nearly laughed then, but she was distracted by the sound of her mother approaching from the living room.
“Are you coming in or has the party moved out to the foyer?”
Lillian walked slowly toward them. She was using her cane, which meant her hip was acting up. Since she almost always refused to take her pain medication, this did not bode well, Jessica thought.
“Hello, Mother. These are for you.” Jessica kissed her mother’s cheek and handed her a bouquet of long white flowers, one of her mother’s favorites.
“Calla lilies . . . how clever of you.” Lillian looked over the flowers at Darrell Lester. “Are you trying to distract me from something?”
Sam placed a protective hand on Darrell’s shoulder. “This is Darrell Lester, Lillian. He’s visiting with us for the afternoon. Luke McAllister said he’d be dropping by later with Sara and would pick up Darrell then.”
“Luke McAllister. Of course, he would have something to do with this. I don’t know why you encourage that romance, Emily. Sara could do much better than that fellow.”
Emily shrugged. “Sara has her own mind. You know that. Besides, what’s wrong with Luke? I like him very much and I think he’s well suited to her.”
“This is neither the time nor the place to get into that topic. But remind me to take it up with you sometime.” Lillian released one of her trademark sighs of indignation then moved with a crablike motion back toward the living room. “Come along. I’ve waited long enough for my lunch. I can feel my blood sugar taking a swan dive. I don’t know why I bother to organize these family get-togethers. Everyone’s on their own schedule. Nobody really wants to come visit me. . . .”
Behind their mother’s back, Emily rolled her eyes and Jessica nearly laughed out loud. Sam and Darrell lingered a moment in the foyer and Jessica turned to see what they were up to.
Darrell was staring up at the high ceiling and the long, zigzagging staircase. “That old lady, she really lives here? All by herself?”
“She does indeed.”
“It looks like a hotel or something in here. I bet you could fit, like, ten families in all those rooms up there.”
“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Jessica heard her husband reply.
Darrell shrugged in answer. As if he’d already learned the world was not fair, especially when it came to some people having and some not having.
A hard lesson to learn when you’re that young, Jessica thought. She felt suddenly embarrassed by her mother’s big empty house, all the antiques, paintings, and expensive bric-a-brac. Ten families could probably put this space to good use, she thought, ten families Darrell knew.
Jessica helped her sister set an extra place for Darrell, then carry bowls and platters from the kitchen while their mother enthroned herself at the head of the long dining room table and directed traffic.
“No, Dan, don’t sit there. You go here, next to me. I’ll put Emily next to you and Jessica in the place across.” She fixed Sam with a disapproving glare. “You may take that seat down there, Sam, and put the boy at the corner. Less likely to interrupt at that end,” she said to Dan.
Jessica saw her husband give her mother a look, but he didn’t say anything. He’ll deserve to watch his football game this afternoon, Jessica thought, the whole interminable twelve hours of it.
Her mother picked up her linen napkin and spread it across her lap. “Why don’t you say grace, Jessica?”
“All right.” Jessica glanced around the table then bowed her head. “Dear heavenly Father, thank you for gathering us today around this table and for the food we are about to share. Thank you for our many blessings, and help us to be mindful of them. Amen.”
“And thank heaven that Sam’s sister is such a wonderful cook. There’s roasted potatoes, butternut squash, sweet peas, and Cornish game hens with herb and chestnut stuffing.” Emily lifted the bowl of potatoes and passed them to her mother.
“The meal is all from her shop? I thought you made it.” Lillian eyed the potatoes suspiciously.
Dan laughed. “Emily has many fine qualities, Lillian, but you should know by now that culinary talent is definitely not one of them. Once she got all these little chickens home from the market, she’d be more likely to line them up and call a meeting than cook them.”
Sam and Jessica exchanged a glance and both of them broke out laughing. The image was just so perfectly Emily.
“Hey, I’m not that bad.” Emily stared at her fiancé, managing a moment’s indignation before giving in to laughter.
Unsmiling, Lillian took a spoonful of potatoe
s and passed the dish to Dan. “Is that why you haven’t set a wedding date? Wary of her cooking?”
“Mother, please . . .” Emily still looked amused, but Jessica could tell from her sister’s tone that Lillian was once again pushing buttons.
Jessica focused on the far end of the table where Sam was filling Darrell’s plate. Darrell didn’t look that interested in the food. He was sliding a teaspoon around his place setting, weaving it in and out of the china and crystal glasses, as if it were a little vehicle on an obstacle course.
Jessica stared hard at Sam, trying to signal a warning of imminent danger. She didn’t even want to imagine the scene if Darrell tipped over one of her mother’s Waterford goblets.
“Well, I was just wondering.” Lillian gave an innocent shrug and stabbed her fork into a pile of peas. “I thought long engagements had gone out of fashion. Especially for people your age. Then there’s that trip you’ve been planning. I can’t imagine what you’re both waiting for. Unless of course, there are some problems?”
Emily and Dan had been engaged since May, about six months. Not really long at all, Jessica thought. But she, too, was starting to wonder why they hadn’t set a date.
Dan smiled at his future mother-in-law and said smoothly, “There aren’t any problems, Lillian. Don’t get your hopes up.”
Sam started to laugh again but with his mouth full, nearly choked. Darrell jumped up at once and began pounding him on the back. “Are you okay, Sam? Do you need the Heimlich maneuver? I can do it to you. I saw it on TV.”
Darrell tried to grab Sam from behind but Sam peeled him off with one hand, as if dislodging a small, affectionate pet. “That’s all right. . . . I’m okay,” he sputtered. He took a sip of water. “Something must have gone down the wrong way.”
“It’s your sister’s cooking. Too many spices. I can’t see how she stays in business.” Lillian sat back in her seat and set her fork on the side of the plate, as if she suddenly found the meal inedible.
Jessica hated it when her mother criticized Molly. Though Sam had never said so, she knew it hurt his feelings. Besides, the criticism was completely unwarranted; Molly was an incredible cook.
Now that the emergency was over, Darrell had returned to playing with his flatware again, Jessica noticed, though Sam leaned over twice to discourage him. He had made a seesaw-type lever of the sterling silver fork and spoon. He suddenly brought his fist down on the knife’s handle, launching the fork into the air. It landed on the floor with a resounding clatter. Oh, great, Jessica thought as Sam gave Darrell a stern look then leaned over to search for the fork.
Before her mother could comment, Jessica loudly continued the conversation. “I think the food tastes great. I love the stuffing. Maybe Molly will give me the recipe for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, very tasty,” Dan agreed.
Emily shrugged. “She must be doing something right. The shop is so busy you can hardly get waited on.”
Lillian was half listening to their conversation and half watching the far end of the table. She pinned Sam with a stare as he sat up again and straightened the napkin on his lap.
“Where’s the boy? Did you lose him under there?”
Sam looked around. Jessica could see he was baffled to find Darrell’s chair empty. “Here was right here a minute ago. . . .”
“For heaven’s sake! What was that?” Lillian pressed her hand to her chest and jumped out of her seat, as if poked by a cattle prod.
Jessica heard Darrell’s laughter under the table and instantly knew what had happened.
Sam leaned over. “Darrell, come out from under the table. That’s not a place to play.”
Jessica thought Darrell would emerge at the head of the table, somewhere near her mother, but she suddenly felt something scurry past her legs and realized he’d wisely decided it would be best to come out near Sam.
Sam helped him up and brushed off his clothes. “You shouldn’t have gone under the table. That’s not polite.”
“I was looking for my spoon.”
“Well, I found it. Now, say excuse me and we’ll go wash your hands.”
“Excuse me,” Darrell mumbled.
“That’s all right. See you later.” Emily smiled at him, clearly amused. “I’ll bring out dessert.”
“Dessert? Do you think a child should be rewarded for such behavior? I can see you’ve never been a parent.” Lillian took her seat again and the table went silent.
It was true that Emily had never raised a child, but that was mainly because her mother had robbed her of the opportunity. Though her sister had sorted out this long-buried issue and more or less forgiven Lillian, Jessica could tell that the comment still stung. And she could tell from Dan’s expression that he was keenly aware of it.
“Little boys will crawl under tables, Lillian,” he said evenly. “That’s one of the things they do best. Having raised one, I do know. So let’s not make a federal case of it.”
Dan’s tone was firm and Jessica saw her mother shrink back in her seat. She also saw a flash of gratitude in her sister’s blue eyes.
Lillian made a huffing sound, regaining her composure. “I suppose you can clear the dishes, Jessica. I don’t think anyone has any appetite left, after that episode.”
Jessica glanced around. It did look as if everyone had finished eating, though she was sure Darrell going under the table had little to do with that. She rose and began to collect the dishes.
“Let me help you.” Emily rose, too.
“That’s not necessary. Jessica can manage. You did everything else.” Lillian pinned her older daughter with a stare. “Besides, I’d like to get back to your wedding plans. Or lack of them.”
Emily sat down again and gave Jessica a secret look as she brushed past. From the kitchen, Jessica could hear her mother begin her interrogation.
“With all the commotion around here today you never actually answered my question.”
“What commotion?” Emily’s counter question was designed to distract and get her mother off the point; Jessica recognized it as one of Emily’s favorite tactics.
Dan spoke up. “We haven’t set a wedding date yet, Lillian, for a perfectly good reason. We can’t agree on what type of wedding we should have. I want something small, quick, simple. Emily seems to have her heart set on a more lavish affair.”
“I never said lavish. I’m hardly the lavish type, Dan. You know that by now.”
Jessica could tell from the pitch of her sister’s voice that the topic was a thorny one. Emily had mentioned the problem to her once or twice in the past few weeks, and she had assumed they would work it out, as most couples do. But Dan was very set in his ways, and Emily was very independent and accustomed to being in charge—a combination that did not favor compromise.
“Maybe lavish is not quite the right word,” Dan allowed. “But something more elaborate than I feel is necessary. Would you call that a fair assessment?”
“Elaborate? That sounds as if we’re picking out a chandelier. I just know more people around here than you do.”
“I ran the newspaper for over twenty years, dear. How could you possibly know more people than I do?” Dan’s voice was cajoling yet held a tense edge.
“Maybe that’s not the right way to put it, then. I only mean that of the large group of people we both know, I’d like to have more of them sharing our wedding day.”
Jessica entered the room and removed a few more dirty dishes just in time to see her mother tap her empty water goblet with a teaspoon. It made a delicate ringing sound, as if signaling the end of a round between two high-class boxers.
“Time. Time out.” Lillian glanced from Dan to Emily, positively enjoying the confrontation. “Why don’t you get married here, in this house? That will solve everything, don’t you think?”
Jessica couldn’t see how the offer, though surprisingly generous, would solve the problem. It would only generate new ones. She watched Emily and Dan gaze at each other across the table, commu
nicating silently.
“Thank you, Mother. That’s very nice of you to offer . . . but I don’t think we’ll need to have it here.”
“Really? And why not?” Lillian sat up straight in her chair, looking insulted. “A wedding at home is always more intimate and personal. Far more tasteful than some . . . drafty, tacky restaurant. It was good enough for your engagement party,” she reminded them.
“That was different,” Emily replied.
Dan looked down at the table and fiddled with his napkin. Finally, he looked up again. “We’re just not sure what we want to do, Lillian. We need a little time to work this out.”
“You do want to marry her, don’t you? Are you getting cold feet?”
“Mother, really!” Emily’s cheeks were flushed, and Jessica was certain she was angry, maybe also embarrassed.
Dan laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love her madly. I’d get married tonight if she’d agree to it.”
“Elope, you mean? Heaven forbid! You won’t pull that again on me, will you? I’d never survive it.” Lillian pressed a hand to her heart, her eyes wide with shock.
“Calm down, Mother,” Emily said, sounding weary. “We’re not going to elope. Dan was just . . . making a point.”
“I was totally serious. But don’t worry, Lillian. I can’t persuade her to run off with me. She’s too busy—too many meetings to attend.”
“Thank heaven for small favors,” Lillian grumbled.
Jessica slipped into the kitchen with the remainder of the dinner dishes. After loading them into the dishwasher, she located a bag of ground coffee in the freezer and then began the search for Lillian’s coffeemaker.
Sam entered the kitchen from the hallway just as Jessica was switching on the coffeepot.
“Have you seen Darrell around?” he asked a little too casually.
“No, I thought he was with you.”
“He sort of disappeared on me. I thought he must have come down here.”
“Sam, you shouldn’t let him just wander around the house like that. He could get into trouble. He could hurt himself.”
“I know that,” Sam insisted. “We were just upstairs, walking around a little. I thought it would be good to let him stretch his legs. I turned the game on in the spare bedroom to check the score, and he disappeared. Are you sure he didn’t come down here?”
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