Finally it was her turn for the tour with the cameras. She explained about her “Flair for Wood” theme, how the cherrywood cupboards in the kitchen had led to her bringing in a cherry table for the breakfast nook, and a bench to accompany it. The banquette along the windows was covered by a flowered cushion in reds, greens, blues, and oranges. It was the pop of color for that room and coordinated with the place settings of multicolored china on the table. The chandelier overhead was cherry along with wrought iron and worked beautifully with the rest.
Pointing to the crown molding that finished off the space, she mentioned the granite countertops and chef-quality stainless-steel appliances would make any homeowner happy to cook in that kitchen. The kitchen flowed into the dining room with its glossy mahogany table. A green table runner embroidered with baskets of flowers was reminiscent of the flowered cushion in the breakfast nook. A similar scarf runner lay across the mahogany buffet under a double-tiered soup tureen. The walls had been painted a light sage and the crown molding was the same green as the table runner. A framed photo of peonies in a garden basket hung above the buffet while metal sculptures of cat tails graced another wall. Sheer curtains on the French doors lent privacy, and an Aubusson-style rug added rich elegance to the space.
Caprice’s wood theme continued in the master suite with polished oak. The four-poster bed was fit for a king. Instead of painting the wall behind the bed, she’d hung a huge quilt in taupe and blue. It gave the room the warmth a bedroom should have. She’d carried the same color scheme through the bedspread and draperies in more muted tones. Huge white and blue poppy throw pillows danced across the bed and adorned the love seat in one corner. The oak armoire that almost reached the ceiling was a striking piece itself trimmed in black like the dresser and the bed. It made a statement that the couple who slept here had impeccable taste.
In the second bedroom, with its simpler maple bed and accompanying pieces, she’d achieved a look that could be for male or female. In this room, she’d added a chestnut rolltop desk to the mix and it picked up the rich orange tones of the maple. She’d taken a chance on a landscape with a wide chestnut frame that depicted a cozy glen where two horses grazed near a white wooden fence. The bedspread was the palest yellow with intricate brown embroidery. The draperies were the same pale yellow, but the valances carried the embroidery across their swag. The black wrought-iron rods balanced the lightness of the draperies, making the room both masculine and feminine.
Caprice had lucked out and found a stark white washbowl light that went perfectly on one nightstand. The other nightstand held a taller wrought-iron light with an octagonal taupe shade.
Finally the tour ended in the living room where Caprice had combined woods from all the rooms to coordinate and pull the theme of the house together. She’d hung the flat-screen TV on the wall, but around it she’d decorated with inlaid wood designs that were 3-D in nature so the wall wouldn’t look so flat. A cranberry-colored sectional sofa brought a pop to the room. Across from the TV with its many cushions and chaise lounge, it offered comfortable seating but was also an eye-catching piece. The low, rectangular coffee table with a mosaic top in the same colors as the floral cushions in the kitchen gave TV watchers a place to set drinks or food. There was another conversational corner with chairs facing the fireplace. The room was bright with its cranberry, yellow, orange, red, and sage green. It tied all the other rooms together.
Caprice knew she’d done her best and now all she could do was wait.
The live tour of each house took ten minutes, but it seemed much longer as Caprice waited for the results.
Suddenly the doorbell to her model home rang. The emcee of the show, the one who had started all of this, Roland Vaughn himself, stood there, a broad smile on his face and balloons in his hand. Her heart practically stopped. Was he going to tell her she’d won or lost? After a few moments that seemed like an eternity, he said, “You’ve won my Model Home Challenge, Caprice De Luca. What do you have to say?”
She was speechless, not like her at all. But she did remember to smile, and she remembered to point outside the door. “I owe everything to the support of my family and my friends. I can’t tell you how much this means to win. Thank you for appreciating my decorating designs.”
Fortunately they were already out of time. Roland had to wrap things up. All three designers were brought out in front of her house until he made closing remarks and signed off.
As soon as the producer shut down the taping, Caprice asked, “Can I go?”
Roland looked surprised that she’d want to. “There’s paperwork to sign, contracts for me to give you so your lawyer can go over them.”
“I just need a minute to see my family. They’re right over there.”
“Sure, go see them. But then come back here. You’re going to have a few interviews to do.”
Interviews. She needed to talk to Grant. That was as important as any interview.
Her family closed around her in a group hug, and she could hardly breathe as her hat almost fell off. She heard: “Congratulations,” “Way to go,” “We knew you could do it, honey.” Her nana kissed her on the cheek and said, “Grant’s waiting to talk to you.”
Grant didn’t hesitate to envelop her in a big bear hug. “Good job, Caprice. Now, before I let jealousy turn me into a green-eyed monster, tell me if coffee with Seth was just coffee.”
“Actually, it was coffee and a turkey club.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed.
“I should have told you. I don’t want you to think I was sneaking behind your back. I just didn’t want to worry you.”
“Or have me disapprove and say you couldn’t go? Did you really think I would do that? I will never make your decisions for you, Caprice. I’ll weigh in, but I won’t make them.” His gray eyes were steady on hers, filled with conviction.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I do. Tell me you and Seth have doused the romantic flames and I’ll believe you.”
“They’re doused,” she assured him. “We know we’re not right for each other. We’ll probably be exchanging Christmas cards. Will you do that with Naomi?”
“Yes, I probably will.”
She asked, “So we’re both good?”
Grant’s smile was slow in coming, but it came. Then he took her in his arms again and kissed her soundly. That kiss could get her through any interview. That kiss could get her through life.
Chapter Thirteen
The De Luca family dinners occurred one Sunday a month unless something special happened—a surprise birthday party, a congratulations event, an impromptu get-together. When Caprice and her brother and sisters were growing up, they took turns inviting friends. Her mother and father invited friends too. It was always a celebration with lively conversation, catch-up chatter, and the best food on the planet. As the family matured, these dinners became their way of connecting in a busy world, the one time when they pulled together as a family and remembered the bonds among them.
Everyone contributed something to the dinner. Although Caprice, her mother and Nikki, Nana and Bella made most of the food, her dad sometimes did too. Vince was their wine connoisseur who enjoyed wine tasting at area wineries. He chose the wines to go along with the meal. Since Roz had been dating Vince and attending the dinners, she usually brought a table arrangement. She was good at that. Grant contributed fruit or imported chocolates, depending on the season.
Patches, Lady, and Dylan scurried into the living room with Bella’s kids as Grant carried a basket of apples through the foyer and into the dining room. He positioned it on the credenza.
Nana winked at him. “Are you hinting you’d like me to make an apple pie?”
“Your pies are the best, so is your apple cobbler.”
Nana laughed. “At least you’re honest.”
Caprice’s mom poured water from a pitcher into the tumblers on the table. “I hear you’re swamped since the TV show. How many new projects did you get?�
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“Enough to keep her busy for the next six months,” Grant said. He gave Caprice a hug and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to find your dad. I have something I want to discuss with him.”
“Anything important?” Grant hadn’t mentioned this before.
“Just guy stuff,” Grant responded, gave her a smile, and headed for the living room.
“I think he’s in the library,” Fran called after him. “He was looking for his copy of Treasure Island for Timmy.”
Guy stuff. What did that mean? The latest sports predictions?
“What’s your next house staging?” Nana asked, as she took one of the apples from the basket and examined it. It was a Golden Delicious.
Caprice took a stack of napkins from the sideboard and began arranging them at each place setting, folding them as she went. “I’m scurrying to get it done. It’s in West York at one of the newer developments.”
“What’s the theme?” Fran asked.
“Americana Retreat. Juan worked on it while I was gone. I put finishing touches on it yesterday. We can videotape tomorrow morning and the open house is on Wednesday. Denise is moving away from weekend open houses. She feels we’ll only get serious house hunters during the week when people aren’t just looking for something to do. Since I can use lots of antiques, Isaac helped us put this one together. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
The door from the side porch into the foyer opened. The only person missing was Uncle Dom. But Uncle Dom didn’t walk through the door, Dulcina did!
Caprice rushed over to her. “Hi. This is a surprise.”
Uncle Dom stepped in behind her.
Dulcina was smiling from ear to ear. She was dressed in chocolate brown slacks and a burnt orange blouse. She’d even curled her hair. “Your uncle invited me to join him today.”
Well, well, well, Caprice thought. Somebody’s moving along. She exchanged a look with her uncle and then gave him a hug. This was going to be one of those unforgettable family dinners. She could just tell.
Caprice had brought homemade bread. Along with that, they passed around the table her mom’s baked ziti and meatballs, Nikki’s feta olive tomato salad, Bella’s cheesy cauliflower casserole, and Nana’s cannoli for dessert. Caprice could hardly keep up with the conversation swirling around the huge table. Supervising Megan and Timmy, Bella handed off Benny to Joe. He held him in one arm and ate with the other. Soon, however, Nana took the baby and then passed him to Caprice’s mom, who walked and talked to him in between bites of food.
Caprice glanced around the table and felt a little misty-eyed.
Grant took her hand. “What’s up?”
“Just appreciating what I have,” she told him honestly.
He interlaced his fingers with hers.
Caprice’s mother was sitting next to her. “I heard that you’re involved in the Newcomb murder investigation.”
“Who told you I was involved?” Caprice asked.
“Bella has a cat from the Wyatt estate! That in itself was a huge clue.”
She never could keep anything from her mom. Now that her mom knew Caprice was involved, Caprice asked, “Did you know Leona Wyatt or Wendy?”
“I saw Wendy at church now and then when I went to early Mass. And Leona—at one time she was involved with some of the charities in Kismet. She often brought donations to the thrift store or our annual clothing drive. But there was always an aura of reserve about her, a distance she put between herself and other people.”
“Do you know why?”
Fran sighed. “We suspected.”
“We?”
“Friends. Volunteers at the thrift store. Leona sent her children to a private school in York rather than the public school or the Catholic school here. I had another friend whose children were in that same school. She said Leona never attended the meetings. She conferenced with the teachers by phone.”
“And the reason?”
“Bruises she didn’t want anyone to see. I caught sight of a few on her arm one time when she donated clothes to St. Francis’s Thanksgiving collection. She saw that I noticed them and made some flimsy excuse about bumping against a cupboard door. But it didn’t look like that. The bruises circled her arm as if someone had grabbed her—hard. After her husband died, I thought she might become more social, but she didn’t. She kept to a secluded lifestyle as if habits from years of hiding kept her hiding even then.”
“Do you think her children knew what was going on?”
“Children always know what’s going on, even if it happens behind closed doors. Domestic violence affects everyone in the family, even relatives who only suspect it from a distance. They feel helpless.”
“But Leona got close to Wendy.”
“In small towns there’s always gossip. I think when Leona got sick, she finally realized how much she needed a good friend. Wendy was in a position to be the kind of friend she needed because she would have understood what Leona had gone through. I can see how a bond formed very easily.”
That was probably true. Someone who had gone through the same experience would understand the best.
Suddenly the doorbell chimed. Caprice’s gaze immediately went to Nana’s. Nana’s eyes twinkled.
This time, it wasn’t her mom or Nana who stood up from the table but rather Nikki. She was slightly flushed as she excused herself and went to the door.
Caprice heard a male voice and she recognized that voice. It belonged to Brett Carstead.
Fran explained, “Nikki said she invited him, but he didn’t know if he could get here and take the time away from work.”
Caprice was glad he’d decided he might want a relationship as well as a dedicated career.
And another thought quickly followed. Maybe she could find out more about his investigation.
* * *
It was a little after noon on Monday when Caprice found herself in Scott and Darby Wyatt’s home after a morning of videotaping her Americana Retreat. Darby had called her this morning because Scott had seen Caprice on the local televised news last night in replays of her win in Baltimore. He’d told Darby he thought it would be prestigious for Caprice to decorate their living room.
Caprice wasn’t too keen on the prestigious part. She’d rather Scott Wyatt call her because he liked her style. But a client was a client, she supposed. She’d received about twenty calls to set up meetings within the next three weeks with TV viewers who’d watched the Baltimore cable show. Her escapade into TV fame had definitely brought in business. But the way Scott Wyatt looked at her, she didn’t know if she wanted his. There was just something sleazy about him.
There was nothing sleazy about the house, though. It was a Georgian about 3,500 square feet. The living room was long and spacious, probably about twenty-five feet by twelve. She could see why Darby wasn’t entranced with it. The sofa belonged to the nineties with its gray background, cranberry and green geometric shapes. A wing chair in a darker cranberry didn’t fit in with other modern pieces like the black entertainment center that took up one wall and occasional pieces that matched that. The pale gray carpeting wasn’t necessarily worn but didn’t look fresh either.
Sitting across from her now, Scott handed her a printout. “That’s my budget,” he said. “Do you think you can stay within that amount?”
Caprice could juggle any budget. She could always repurpose furniture and ask for Isaac’s help finding unique pieces. The wholesale furniture outlet she dealt with sold escalating levels of quality in tables, lamps, and accent pieces. The budget wouldn’t be a problem.
“I can work within your budget. I’m concerned more about what kind of style you enjoy and what your favorite colors are.”
“You know,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I don’t care about all of that. My only condition—I’d like a big comfortable recliner for me. Darby can pick out whatever else she wants as long as it comes in under budget.”
He gave Darby a look that said she better not go one
penny over either. Caprice would be absolutely mindful of that.
Scott stood and gave her another one of those looks that made her skin crawl, a look that told her she wouldn’t want to be alone with him in a dark corner.
“I have to be getting back to work. I’m looking at a piece of property to develop into condos.”
“In Kismet?” Caprice asked.
“Oh, no, over near Wrightsville. You and Darby have a good planning session.” He gave Darby a penetrating look. “I’ll want to hear all about it when I get back.”
Scott went over to Darby and gave her a quick kiss. His hand ran down her back and patted her fanny. Then he was gone, out the front door with his car keys jangling.
Was it Caprice’s imagination or did Darby breathe a huge sigh of relief? His wife didn’t speak until Scott had started his car and was backing out of their driveway.
Caprice took out her electronic tablet. She had a form on there that she filled out for clients. She could take notes and list everything they talked about.
Darby stared out the front window as if making sure Scott was truly gone. “I used to work from home,” she mused.
“You did? What did you do?”
“I designed Web sites before Scott married me. I have an associate’s degree in graphic design. But after we married, he didn’t and still doesn’t want me to work.”
“He wants you to have a life of leisure?” Caprice joked, knowing this opportunity to probe around in Darby’s life was an unexpected gift.
“Not exactly,” she said shyly, turning around. She crossed to the sofa and sat down beside Caprice. “I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to deal with clients. He gets jealous very easily, not only of other men, but of my time. You know, if he wants me for some reason and I’m busy doing something else.”
Shades of Wrath Page 17