by Cara Malone
“You have to go to the fire inspector,” Marigold urged her. “What if he sets another fire? He could hurt someone.”
“I made him promise me that the fires would end,” Cyn said. “That’s why I got him the job interview. It’ll make us even, at least in his eyes - no more competition.”
Mari gave her a cynical look. Cyn held her breath, and then Marigold said, “Come on, Cyn. You know that’s not going to work, right?”
“It’s a long shot,” she said. “I know that. But my stepmother dislikes me enough as it is. If I’m the reason her son gets arrested, she’ll never speak to me again – probably won’t let me near my dad, either.”
“You wouldn’t be the reason,” Marigold said. “Drew set those fires, and family or not, it isn’t your responsibility to cover for him.”
“I know you’re right,” Cyn said. She tried to imagine herself walking into the police station and turning her stepbrother in, but she couldn’t see it. “I’ve been covering for Drew for years. He does something awful, usually to me, and I can’t tell anyone because I know it’ll make the whole situation ten times worse.”
“You told me,” Marigold said softly. “That’s a step in the right direction.”
“Maybe,” Cyn said. “You’re sure you’re not mad?”
“Not at you,” Mari said. She tucked a wild strand of Cyn’s hair behind her ear, then said, “Should we eat this picnic before the cheese gets soft?”
“Sure,” Cyn said. She felt a wave of relieve, almost literally washing over her. She’d told Marigold the worst secret she had and Mari was still sitting next to her on the picnic blanket, looking at her with the same seductive blue eyes as she had before she knew. They were going to get past this after all. As Cyn pulled out the two bottles of sparkling water, she asked, “Can I tell you the story of why I don’t drink?”
She wasn’t sure what made her bring it up. It wasn’t a story she’d ever told before – not even to Gus. But now that she’d begun unburdening her soul to Marigold, she wanted to keep going.
“Please,” Mari said.
“I was a sophomore in high school,” Cyn said while Marigold unpacked the basket. “Although I never really got the hang of making friends here, other than my best buddy, Gus. Drew had a few good friends and I was still very committed to making at least one member of my new family like me. It was spring and Samantha had just taken my car away a few months before – that’s a whole other story that I’ll tell you another time, but suffice it to say we weren’t talking at the time. Drew decided to skip his senior prom and hang out with his friends instead, and I was the only one he confided in about that plan. When he invited me to come along, I was over the moon. I thought it meant he was finally going to give the whole sibling thing a try. Well, I guess he did, if you consider hazing to be a typical sibling activity.”
“Oh no,” Marigold said. “What happened?”
“You know that barn that burned down last week? It was in the newspapers.”
“Yeah,” Marigold said. “The one on County Route 10.”
“That’s the one,” Cyn answered. She rolled her eyes and said, “I should have known Drew was the arsonist as soon as I responded to that fire. It was a popular place with the cool, edgy kids when we were in school, and I imagine it still was up until it got turned into a pile of ash. Anyway, Drew always wanted to go and he never got invited – he didn’t hang out in the right crowds. So when everyone else was at prom, he decided that was going to be his time to make some memories at the barn. He took me, a couple of guys from his class – you might have known them but I don’t remember their names – and a bottle of Jack Daniels. I didn’t know he had the alcohol until we got there and he pulled it out of the trunk of his car. I think he swiped it from my father’s wet bar. I had never drank alcohol before that night, and I haven’t touched a drop of the stuff since. Just thinking about it makes me want to gag a little bit.”
“You got pretty drunk, huh?” Marigold asked as she set the cheese and salami out on a plate, then opened the box of crackers.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Cyn said. “Drew started right in with a round of shots. I drank mine and it felt like fire going all the way down my esophagus and landing like a bomb in my stomach. I managed to keep it down – I still think that was a miracle – and then he gave me another. I tried to refuse it but he said I could either drink the whiskey or I could walk home. I drank it and then sat there trying not to vomit for the next ten minutes while Drew and his friends explored the barn. When they came back, Drew gave me another shot and I took it because it was at least five miles back into town and I didn’t even have a cell phone at the time so I could call a cab. I stood up and decided to walk around a bit, try and walk off the nausea, and that’s when the alcohol hit me. When people say it goes to your head, I don’t think they have anything as severe in mind as what I experienced. The whole world tipped sideways – I could feel the ground moving under my feet – and then it all went black. When I woke up, I had no idea how much time passed or what else had happened. Drew and his friends were gone and there was vomit in my hair – Samantha used to make me wear it long back then. I cut it all off myself the very next day.”
“So he left you there?”
“Yeah,” Cyn said. “It took me three hours to walk home because I was still drunk and the world was spinning around me for the first hour. I’m lucky I didn’t get hit by a car or something. When I finally did get home, it was close to dawn and I found a note from Drew on my pillow. You were home all night. I went to a concert in Granville with some friends. When I dragged myself to breakfast a few hours later, he was telling Samantha a story about hitting a deer on his way home from seeing the Black Keys. I never did find out what he really hit, but I lied for him and corroborated his story because there was no point in Samantha hating both of us.”
Marigold set down the knife she was using to cut the wax off the gouda. She turned her full attention to Cyn and said, “Drew is an asshole who only cares about himself. You have to turn him in. Promise me.”
“Are you going to tell the police what I said?” Cyn asked. She was feeling anxious again – it had felt so good to stop holding those secrets, but had it been a mistake to trust Marigold after all?
“I won’t tell them,” she said, “if you promise to do it yourself. A secret like that’s not worth keeping. He could set another fire and really hurt someone.”
Cyn let out a deep sigh. Once again, she knew that Marigold was right, but ten years of trying desperately to keep the peace in her unstable family wasn’t easily undone by the simple urge to do what was right.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go in the morning and talk to Detective Holt.”
“Good,” Mari said. She pulled Cyn into a long hug, stroking her hair and making her feel safe while the Scarlet Begonias played their namesake song in the distance. Once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right.
“Come on,” Marigold said after the song ended. “Let’s eat.”
They lay down on the picnic blanket after they were finished with the cheese and crackers. Mari put her head in the crook of Cyn’s arm and they stared up at the stars above them while the Scarlet Begonias continued their set, and after a while, Cyn’s eyelids began to grow heavy.
She must have drifted into sleep because she found herself in the grand ballroom after a while, and the room looked drastically different from the last time she was there. There were many chairs set up in rows and the podium was standing at the front of the room – she was at the service awards again.
People began to appear in the seats while Cyn stood in the aisle, and Marigold went to the podium. She called Cyn’s name and Cyn looked anxiously for her family in the crowd. They were there – no embarrassingly empty seats this time – but when she got to the podium, Mari ripped the award out of her hands and the whole room erupted in an angry round of booing.
Cyn twitched awake just as the au
dience was standing up, beginning to close in on her at the podium, and Marigold asked, “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No,” she lied, and Mari saw right through it.
She bent over and kissed Cyn’s temple, then took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Come on, the concert’s over. Let’s go to bed.”
Twenty-Four
Marigold
Marigold brought Cyn back upstairs and led her by the hand into her bedroom. They crawled into the four-poster bed together and made love slowly, invigorated by the short nap they’d taken in the garden. Then when they were finally spent, they settled into each other’s arms and Cyn was asleep again immediately.
Mari had a harder time falling asleep. This was a kind of intimacy that she’d never experienced before and she wanted to enjoy every minute of it. She loved the rise and fall of Cyn’s chest and the sound of her heart beating in Marigold’s ear. She loved the way their bodies were cradled together, their curves fitting perfectly against each other.
And against all her protestations about being sole conservator of Grimm House, she loved the feeling of having nowhere else to be and nothing she’d rather be doing.
She’d approached Emily about the possibility of becoming co-conservator after her lunch meeting with her father. Emily was just an assistant, but she’d been at Marigold’s side ever since she started working full-time after college and she knew the estate’s affairs inside and out. She might not understand the history of Grimm House the way that Marigold and her father did, but she respected it and she worked hard.
“It would be a lot more work,” Marigold had told her, “but it would come with a very nice salary increase.”
“You’re thinking about relinquishing control?” Emily had asked, incredulous. “Marigold Grimm is considering the idea of having a partner?”
In more ways than one, Mari had thought.
“Not relinquishing,” she said. That word sounded too severe – too hands-off. “I trust you and I know you take pride in your work, but it’s a big job and I want you to be sure it’s something that you want.”
She’d suggested the Scarlet Begonias concert as a trial run, much like the retirement party had been a trial run for Marigold. She would need to sit down with Emily in the morning and ask her how it had gone, but from her vantage point in the garden, it all seemed to go off without a hitch.
She snuggled against Cyn and closed her eyes at last. She was on the verge of having it all.
The next morning, Marigold woke up a few minutes before Cyn. She lay still so as not to disturb her, and when Cyn stirred, Mari sat up and watched Cyn stretch and wipe the sleep from her eyes. Even that was the most charming thing Marigold had ever seen. She leaned forward and kissed Cyn’s forehead, then asked, “Did you sleep well?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” Cyn said. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing what’s on the agenda for today, but you make me feel at home.”
She wrapped her arms around Marigold’s waist and squeezed her tight, then nuzzled her face into the side of Mari’s neck. Her breath was hot against Marigold’s skin and it stirred desire in her, followed by a rush of adrenaline.
“Cyn?”
“Hmm?”
“Never mind,” she said, pushing Cyn’s head back down til her lips met her collarbone. She’d been thinking about the conversation she’d had with her father the other day, when he called Cyn her girlfriend. She was about to ask, but it was too soon – that would be crazy.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Cyn said, raising her head and grinning at Mari. “Now you’ve got me curious.”
With trepidation, Marigold asked, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
She could hardly believe her own ears. After a lifetime of choosing work over relationships, it seemed like the most ridiculous question she could ask, but as she lay in Cyn’s arms, waiting for her to wake up, Marigold couldn’t think of a better place to call heaven.
She waited for Cyn to laugh at her, like Marigold probably would have if the question had been reversed. But Cyn surprised her, like she often did. “Absolutely.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Cyn said. “My parents are a perfect example.”
“Your father and stepmother?” Mari asked.
“Lord, no,” Cyn said with a snort. “I’m talking about my dad and my real mother. They met in college – she was a poet and he was getting his MBA, and they ran into each other in the student union. She asked him to a poetry reading and he went even though he’d never voluntarily heard a poem in his life, and they fell in love that very night. They were married by the end of the school year and everyone in their lives thought they were nuts, but the just knew.” She cracked a smile and kissed Marigold, then added, “And I knew from the moment I saw you in that ice cream parlor ten years ago.”
“You did?” Mari asked.
She felt even more adrenaline coursing through her veins now than when she’d been waiting for her father to make his announcement at the retirement party. Blood was rushing to her head and she thought she might either burst into happy tears or pass out from the overwhelming emotion.
“Does that scare you?” Cyn asked.
“A little,” Marigold admitted. “I don’t know how I could possibly live up to expectations that you’ve been holding on to for that long.”
“Love doesn’t come with expectations,” Cyn said. “And if it did, you would have surpassed them all.”
Marigold’s heart was pounding nearly visibly in her chest and she asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Cyn said.
Then she pulled Marigold down to the mattress with a delighted yelp and pushed her nightgown up her thighs. Marigold closed her eyes as Cyn inched her legs apart and slid her hand into the wetness waiting for her. As the first shiver of pleasure ran through her, she thought, So this is love.
They made love once in the bed, then again while they made a very cursory attempt to take a shower together and instead succumbed to their desires. Then Marigold brought Cyn downstairs and asked Federico to make them a breakfast omelet to share. They ate on the terrace, and when their plates were clean, Cyn set down her fork and said, “Well, I think I’ve put off this morning’s task as long as I can. I better go into town and talk to Detective Holt.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Marigold asked. “I can provide moral support.”
“No,” Cyn said. “Thank you, but I think I need to do this alone.”
“Okay,” Mari said. “Call me when you’re finished and I’ll find a way to make you feel better.”
She gave Cyn a flirtatious look – she was really enjoying her newfound confidence, even more now that she could call Cyn her girlfriend. Cyn kissed her, then headed to her truck parked in the gravel drive. There weren’t many other cars in the lot – it was a slow day for Grimm House and Marigold had plenty of work to catch up on after all the time she’d taken off to be with Cyn.
First, she found Emily in the kitchen, finalizing the menu for a wedding they’d be hosting in a few weeks’ time.
“Is that for the Thomas wedding?” she asked as she came over to the prep area where Emily and Federico were talking.
“Sure is,” Emily said. “I wanted to talk to you about that - they were supposed to have their ceremony in the garden, but I’m not sure we’ll be ready in time. Maybe we can move them to the terrace instead.”
“No,” Mari said. “They want to use the pergola as their altar.”
“It’s only three weeks from now,” Emily pointed out. “And everything’s still-”
“Don’t say it,” Mari interrupted her. She couldn’t stand to hear those words again – blackened, charred, burned, drowned. Then she smiled and said, “I guess it’s a good thing I already placed an order with Green Thumb to replace the stuff that was ruined. They’re coming this afternoon to deliver the first batch of replacement plants. We’ll be ready for the Thomases, I pro
mise.”
“Okay,” Emily said, sounding unsure.
“Can I talk to you in the parlor when you’re done with the menu?” Mari asked. Emily agreed and Marigold went into the parlor. When Em came into the room, she asked her about the concert. “How did it go? Did you like being in charge?”
“I did, actually,” Emily said. “And everything went smoothly, although I have to confess I was dying to come up with a problem just so I could spy on your date. How are things going with Cyn?”
Marigold attempted to suppress her smile, but it only worked for a fraction of a second before she was filled to bursting and she said, “It’s official – she’s my girlfriend.”
“Wow,” Emily said, her eyes going wide. “That’s fast!”
“It’s crazy, I know,” Mari started to say, thinking of what Cyn told her about her parents and all the people who thought they were moving too fast. But then Em threw her arms around her.
“Whatever – if you know, you know,” she said. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Marigold said, giving in to the hug. When she released her, she turned serious again and said, “This estate means a lot to me, but I really don’t want to screw up what I’ve got with Cyn. If you want the job, I’d love for you to be my co-conservator. You don’t have to make a decision right away-”
“What’s there to think about?” Emily asked. “You know I love Grimm House. I’d be honored.” They hugged again, then Emily laughed and added, “Now you just have to break the news to Ryan. He’s going to be crushed.”
“I know,” Mari said. “I think I’m going to wait until tomorrow. Today’s been too nice to ruin it with that conversation.”
When Marigold’s plants were delivered in the early afternoon, she changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then went downstairs. She had a plan, as always – she’d finish the job that the fire had started and tear out everything that was dead, then dig up the dirt that had been poisoned by the gasoline and replace it with fresh, nutrient-rich soil. She’d ordered hearty hostas and a large bag full of perennial bulbs, along with a load of fresh soil. All of that could go in the ground and safely take root before the first frost of autumn. Everything else would have to wait until spring.