I closed the door and sagged against it. So much for starting over.
Chapter Five
I had a few hours before I needed to change for Jama, so I inspected every room in the house, opening closet doors with a sample perfume bottle in my hand as I checked for hidden murderers and rapists. Even if I ended up spraying the empty air, the room would smell divine.
Ophelia followed me from room to room, her stomach dragging across the throw rugs and the slats of pine. I was surprised she didn’t end up with splinters in her fur. Maybe she did and failed to notice.
It was only when I entered the kitchen to hydrate for tonight that I remembered Aunt Hazel’s letter. I glanced at the counter where I’d left it but it wasn’t there.
I sighed and looked at the cat. “What did you do with the letter?”
Ophelia meowed and ran away. The movement stirred a sheet of paper on the floor. I scooped it up and read—
Dearest Amelia,
A shame we never got to meet, but such is the will of the universe. If you’re reading this, then my time on earth has come to an end. It’s been a good run. No complaints, except for a few minor ones that I won’t burden you with…but I really would’ve preferred a different ending to Game of Thrones. Anyway, I won’t trouble you with such trivial matters. The purpose of this letter is to welcome you to Newberry and wish you well in your new life.
I paused. Why was she so certain I’d decide to start a new life here? I could’ve been happily married and gainfully employed. I set my attitude aside and continued reading.
Ophelia will be a good companion for you. She might not take to you at first, but don’t let that put you off. Some of the best relationships take time to cultivate, like some of the best gardens. I hope you will love tending to the gardens of Red Clover as much as I have. Honestly, nothing has brought me as much joy. The most important thing to know, however, is this—
The letter stopped abruptly. I turned it over but the backside was blank. “What the…? The most important thing to know is what?”
I grabbed my phone and looked up the number for the hot lawyer.
Voicemail. Great.
“Um, Mr. Fairfax, this is Mia Thorne. There seems to be a page missing from my aunt’s letter and I was hoping you might have it in a file or something. Please call me back and let me know. Thanks.”
Talk about a cliffhanger ending. Thanks, Aunt Hazel!
My phone rang and I glimpsed ‘Nurse Ratched’ on the screen before I could shut my eyes and feign ignorance to myself. Against my better judgment, I decided to answer it. I needed to complain to someone, so I considered this payback for all the times I had to set the phone down on speaker while my mother droned on about a litany of complaints from the nail color of the cashier at the supermarket to the scratchy wool blend of the socks I bought her for Christmas.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Well, it’s about time you answered. I was worried you were dead in the canal and no one would find you for so long that they’d have to reconstruct your face to be able to identify you.”
“Have you been watching Bones reruns again?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
“How’s the house?” she asked.
“A mess. Well, the house isn’t, but the garden is. And her cat should’ve been put on a diet a decade ago.”
“Was she as strange as she seemed?” my mother asked.
“How would I know? I never met her.”
“You know what I mean. Are there tarot cards and voodoo dolls everywhere?”
“There’s a lot of stuff.” I hadn’t really looked closely enough to notice tarot cards or crystal balls.
“Just as I suspected,” she said with a note of triumph.
“Why do you think she was strange?” I asked. “Was it something she said or did?”
“It’s hard to remember all the details now, but according to your father, Hazel believed she was psychic and that the ability was passed down in the family through the female line.”
“So you’re saying my estrogen has psychic powers?”
“I never believed any of it, of course. All that nonsense is for weak-minded individuals.”
“What about Dad?”
“What about him?”
“Did he think it was nonsense?” Hazel was his aunt. He must’ve formed an opinion at some point during their lifetime.
My mother hesitated. “I’ve told you before. There were a few times when you were a child that he insisted you were more in tune with the world than you should be.”
I snorted. “What does that even mean?”
“He seemed to think you knew things, but he never considered that you only knew them because you were involved.”
Troublemaker. Rabble rouser. My identity from a young age.
“I remember Stephanie Fitzgibbons’ doll.”
“Oh, yes. That debacle. What a mess.” I could practically hear her eyes roll. “Well, I think the whole thing is silly and I’m glad Hazel never got her claws into you to convince you otherwise. Imagine how much more screwed-up your life would be now.”
Ouch. “Gee, thanks for the pep talk.”
“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, Mia. You know what I mean.”
Yes, I knew exactly what she meant. If there was an opportunity to criticize me, my mother seized it with both hands.
“What’s the verdict then?” she continued. “Do you think you’ll stay?”
“It seems I have to.” I explained the rules attached to the inheritance.
“How about that? Your aunt was as clever as she was batty.”
“Her lawyer isn’t batty and he liked Aunt Hazel. He said she livened things up for him.”
“I’m sure she did. That’s what a laughingstock does. Do you want to be a laughingstock, Mia?” She paused. “Don’t answer that. Anyone who subjects herself to ridicule the way you do…”
“I didn’t intend…”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Mia. You’re forty-two-years old. When are you going to act like it? Jurgen thinks you’re emotionally stunted because of your father’s death. If only I’d put you in therapy like Grandma suggested at the time, God rest her challenging soul.”
I winced. “Jurgen hasn’t spent any significant time with me, so if that’s what he thinks, then he’s getting it from you.”
“Maybe so, but I think he’s right. You need to grow up. Learn how to be a mature woman and then maybe you’ll find a real man willing to stick around.”
I fought the urge to groan into the phone. There were many reasons I avoided talking to my mother and this common refrain was definitely one of them.
“Aunt Hazel seemed to live a perfectly satisfactory life and she never married.”
“Fine then. Have it your way. Don’t have children. Be another crazy Hazel that everybody talks about but nobody talks to.”
“As it happens, I already have plans tonight,” I said, not even bothering to hide my smug tone.
“Oh? Who with?”
“Local people.” I wasn’t foolish enough to offer any names. That would serve as ammunition she’d use against me at a later point.
She sighed into the phone. “I need to go. Jurgen made reservations at a new sushi restaurant and we can’t be late or they’ll give away our table.”
“We wouldn’t want that. I’ll talk to you later.” Much later.
“Good-bye, Mia. If you accept drinks from strange men, make sure they come directly from the bartender to you.”
“It’s a miracle I’ve lived this long without you peering over my shoulder at all times.”
I clicked off the phone and set it on the counter. A memory stirred and I leaned my hip against the butcher block, letting the image bubble to the surface. A doll with auburn hair, bright eyes, and a blue dress—Stephanie Fitzgibbons’ prized possession. She carried the doll everywhere and her older brothers used to make fun of her until she cried. One day the doll d
isappeared and the brothers swore up and down they had no knowledge of the doll’s whereabouts. Their parents turned their bedrooms upside down in search of the doll and found nothing. When I saw Stephanie in tears that afternoon, an image of the doll had flashed in my mind, along with the fort in the woods. I made the mistake of blurting out the doll’s location. The brothers claimed I’d stolen the doll and hid it at the fort to avoid detection. It seemed that was a more plausible explanation and the one everyone chose to believe. Stephanie didn’t speak to me after that and I learned to keep my lucky guesses to myself.
I climbed the wooden steps to the bedroom to decide on an outfit for the evening. My suitcase was unzipped on the bed so I flipped it open and scrutinized the options. Newberry was a small town with an artsy vibe. I wasn’t sure how my business casual look would fit in. I chose jeans and a knit top with boots. The bar area was outdoors so I’d need an extra layer in case I was too far from a heat lamp.
I glanced in my jewelry roll and spotted a bracelet that Andrew had given me. It was hard enough to believe he’d been seeing someone behind my back to the point where he’d decided to move her into the apartment. If I were being honest with myself, I would acknowledge a few red flags in recent months. But I wasn’t in the mood to be honest with myself. I was in the mood to drink and be merry with relative strangers. If I was going to live in Newberry for the next year, it was in my best interest to make friends.
Jama had an inviting outdoor dining area with an attractive wraparound front porch, complete with a huge bar and paddle fans unmoving overhead. Heat lamps were strategically stationed around the porch and I imagined the fans would get a lot of use in a couple months when the summer temperatures set in. A shiny black grand piano was positioned just outside the entrance and there seemed to be enough room for a small band.
“You don’t mind drinking outside, do you?” Scarlet asked. “The inside is nice, but I prefer to be outside unless it’s raining.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. I noticed a trio of men in suits at the bar. For a brief moment, I was back in the city, stopping by a bar after work. I wondered where these three worked that required more than a T-shirt and jeans. Financial services, most likely. Even towns like Newberry needed people to manage money.
“I’ve got eyes on a pair of broad shoulders,” Patrick said under his breath.
I had no idea which pair of broad shoulders he meant. Patrick took the lead and sidled up to the guy on the end.
“Three sarsaparillas, bartender,” he said.
The bartender broke into a wide grin when he noticed Patrick. “Hey, haven’t seen you here for a bit.”
“You know I hibernate in the winter,” Patrick said.
“Hey, Scarlet,” the bartender said. “Good to see you mingling with civilization.”
“It happens on occasion,” Scarlet said.
“Pete, I’d like you to meet our new friend, Mia,” Patrick said. “She just moved to town.”
Pete shook my hand. “Welcome to Newberry.” He motioned to the trio of suits. “Do you guys know each other?”
Patrick leaned his elbows on the counter, fully invested in the introduction. “I don’t believe so.”
“This is Carlton, Leo, and Jax,” Pete said. “We all graduated together many moons ago.”
“Pays to have a friend who’s the local bartender,” the man identified as Carlton said.
“Not tonight,” Pete said. “You’ve only had one beer.”
“Shouldn’t have even had one,” Carlton admitted. “Apparently it messes with antibiotics.”
Leo jabbed Carlton with an elbow. “Told you not to go to Mexico without taking one of those preventative pills ahead of time.”
“Hey, what about me?” Jax said. “I can’t even hold my beer with my dominant hand.” He held up a bandaged hand. “I’m the only one I know who could get hurt wrestling with office supplies.”
I was a sucker for a slightly clumsy but affable guy—basically, Hugh Grant in any movie—although Jax was too short to be my type.
“Jax was the only other guy in gym class likely to trip over his own feet,” Pete said. “The two of us would hide behind the bleachers and smoke until it was time to get changed.”
Patrick cringed. “Oh, you smoke?”
“Not anymore,” Jax said. “That habit died out sometime in college. Too off-putting to the ladies.”
Patrick’s shoulders sagged. “Yes, the ladies.”
“Is there a collective noun for a group of adults who are a complete mess?” Carlton said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Oh, please,” Jax said. “Now you’re just trying to fit in with the rest of us.”
“Seriously, golden boy,” Pete agreed. “Give it up.”
“Where are you from, Mia?” Leo asked.
“I’ve been living in New York City my whole adult life,” I said.
“And you’ve finally decided to seek out greener pastures?” Jax asked.
“You can’t do much better than Newberry,” Carlton interjected. “It’s got the right mix of bucolic and trendy.”
Pete laughed. “I don’t remember us singing that tune in high school. If I recall correctly, we were all going to make a break for it.”
“Because we were young and stupid,” Leo said. “It’s a rite of passage to discover that you actually live in a desirable area.”
“What do you do here?” I asked. Maybe one of these fine specimens could offer me a job.
“I’m a realtor,” Jax said, “but I guess you’ve already got that part covered—unless you’re renting with an eye to buy.”
“I’m not renting,” I said, keeping my answer deliberately vague. I didn’t want to discuss my circumstances right now.
“I’m an accountant,” Carlton said.
“And I’m a car salesman,” Leo said. “The showroom is only twenty minutes from here if you’re in the market.”
Carlton slapped him on the back. “Gave me a great deal on my new Audi.”
“Not now, but maybe down the road,” I said. It would be good to know a car salesman.
“What can I get you to drink, Mia?” Pete asked. “Your first drink in Newberry is on the house.”
“Thanks, how about a mojito?”
“Coming right up.”
We chatted with the trio of suits for another few minutes and eventually drifted into our own clusters. The other men had started reminiscing about people only they knew, which was only really fun for them.
“I told you this place is lame,” Patrick said, directing the remark to Scarlet.
“Madeline Albrecht would never approve of standing outside to drink in the middle of March.”
“Who’s that?” Scarlet asked.
“My mom. She’s particular about the seasons and what’s permissible during each one.”
“Madeline Albrecht?” Patrick asked. “Wow. Your mom is a former Secretary of State?”
“No, she’s the former secretary of the law firm of Struck & Schumer. Now she works part-time at the makeup counter at the mall. She likes the freebies and discounts.”
“How does one go from defending the nation to defending her choice in eyeshadow?”
“Are you listening to me? She’s Albrecht, not Albright. She’s not at all bright, in fact, and Albrecht is the name of husband number three. Jurgen Albrecht. Dad died when I was twelve and Mom spent her time trying to replace him.”
Scarlet’s brow lifted. “Jurgen, huh?”
“He’s a perfectly lovely man,” I said. “Frankly, I don’t know how she manages to keep attracting them.”
“Probably because she knows the proper way to apply makeup,” Patrick said pointedly.
“Wow,” I said.
He sipped a flute of Aperol Spritz. “Scarlet can give you gardening lessons and I can offer you a makeup tutorial.”
“Patrick, don’t be rude,” Scarlet admonished him. “Mia looks very pretty.” She shifted her attention to me. “His tongue ten
ds to loosen after a few drinks. You get used to it.”
Patrick leaned over the counter and fluttered his eyes at the bartender. “How about now?” he asked, injecting a note of sweetness into his feathery-soft voice.
Pete wiped down the bar. “Fine, but stick to the classics. I don’t want any complaints. It hurts my tips.”
“You’re the best.” Patrick blew him a kiss and hustled over to the grand piano.
I cut a glance at Scarlet. “Is he really going to play?”
She folded her arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Until we pry his moisturized hands away from the keys.”
Patrick flexed his hands and then wiggled his fingers before tickling the ivories.
“Does he sing, too?” I whispered.
Scarlet smirked. “You’ll see.”
Chapter Six
I was glad Stella warned me about the noisy pipes because I spent the first night in the house staring at the ceiling and praying the ornery cat didn’t fall asleep on my face and suffocate me.
Background noise didn’t tend to bother me. I’d spent my entire adult life in the midst of honking horns and the sounds of a bustling city. But the sounds of Red Clover were different. Dare I say it—even a tad eerie. It didn’t help that I had a pounding headache thanks to the drinks and music at Jama. That being said, it had been fun listening to Patrick. He was a natural performer.
I huddled under the blankets and played Taylor Swift on my phone to keep the shivers at bay. I finally fell asleep and dreamed I was alone in Times Square. I stood in its center, surrounded by skyscrapers. A blast of air drew my attention to the top of the Marriott. There I saw a small black dot against the blue backdrop of the sky. The black spot moved and I realized with a start it was plummeting toward me. As it came closer, I was able to discern the white front and matching paws. Ophelia streaked toward me like a falling atom bomb and I did the only think I could think of—I held out my hands to catch her.
My eyes flew open and I immediately recognized the darkened master bedroom of Red Clover. Beads of sweat lined my brow and gathered under my boobs. From her position on my stomach, Ophelia lifted her head and regarded me curiously.
Petal to the Metal Page 5