Authors: L. L. Bartlett,Kelly McClymer,Shirley Hailstock,C. B. Pratt
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Teen & Young Adult, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction
Chapter 11
I was able to get another memory card at one of
the shops along Stowe’s main drag, and went back to the car to wait for
Richard. Eventually the white Buick station wagon pulled alongside my parked
car.
‶
Where
we going?″ Richard called through the open window.
‶
To Ben and Jerry′s for
ice cream. Want to drive?″ I said.
‶
Why not. I′ve got nothing
better to do.″
We transferred our stuff to the station wagon
and locked the Chevy. Richard drove out of the lot and we were on our way.
Ben and Jerry′s ice cream factory and
amusement center was going full tilt at 10:30 on a Sunday, holiday-weekend
morning. People were already lined up for the factory tours and the ice cream
stand was crowded with people waiting to consume a thousand plus calories. We
bought tickets for the 11:15 tour and killed time at the cow viewing area,
where Richard and Maggie mugged for the camera. Next we headed for the gift
shop to drop a few more bucks.
The tour wasn′t as thorough as I′d
hoped. Because of the holiday, the packaging line was shut down. But we got a
free sample of Cherry Garcia and spent time reading the funky letters that
decorated the corridors from celebrities and ordinary Joes like us.
Maggie was dying for more English Toffee
crunch, so afterwards we lined up and bought cones. Strolling down the asphalt
walkway, I heard a voice call out.
‶
Wait! Please wait!″
I turned. Kay Andolina hurried toward us. She
got within ten feet of me before she stopped dead.
‶
Oh, I′m
sorry. I thought you were—″
‶
Who?″
The anticipation in her eyes turned to
confusion and disappointment. She looked from Richard to me as though searching
our faces for some elusive answer. At last she looked away, embarrassed.
I hadn′t counted on running into any of
our fellow guests. I didn′t want anyone to know about my relationship
with Richard—and here we′d been caught in a very public place.
Maggie′s smile was friendly.
‶
Small
world, isn′t it?″
Kay frowned, her gaze hardening.
‶
Have you taken the tour?″
Richard asked.
She shook her head.
‶
Fred′s
getting tickets now.″
‶
Nice as it is, we just had to
get away from the inn,″ Maggie said.
‶
Yes,″ Kay agreed.
‶
We′d
been looking forward to a peaceful weekend in the mountains. Now, with Ms.
Marshall′s death, it′s more like a nightmare.″
Children romped by us. A dog barked somewhere
behind me and an elderly couple jostled past. The building′s painted
murals seemed too bright. Time wavered and something flashed before my
mind′s eye. Actually more of an impression—of something Kay Andolina had
seen.
‶
She argued with Laura
Ross,″ I blurted.
‶
The day before we got there. Wednesday,
right?″
Kay looked at me strangely.
‶
How
did you know?″
‶
What did they fight
about?″
‶
It was none of my business,″
she said.
‶
Jeff!″ Maggie dabbed at
my hand with a paper napkin. Ice cream dripped down my fingers, the cone was
crushed in my fist.
Fred appeared, handing his wife a ticket stub.
‶
Hello,″
he greeted us. In contrast to Kay, he seemed relieved to see some familiar
faces.
‶
We
have to hurry, dear, the tour starts in a few minutes.″ He took his
wife′s hand, leading her away.
I didn′t watch them go. My attention was
focused on the mess that had been my ice cream cone.
Richard cleared his throat.
‶
Why
don′t we sit down,″ he said, turned me by the shoulder and pointed
me in the direction of an empty picnic table.
I tossed the cone into a nearby trash barrel
and wiped the drips from my fingers as we sat on the bench. Maggie produced a
bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted some onto my waiting palm.
‶
So what did you get?″
Richard asked, all business. He’d deduced what had just happened to me.
I thought about it as I rubbed my hands
together, working in the gel.
‶
I′m not sure. It′s all vague—just that
she′d been disturbed by the argument. But that proves Eileen knew Laura
before she came to the inn.″
“I’m sure of it. Didn’t Ted ask if she’d been
to the inn over Fourth of July?”
I nodded.
‶
But then why did she introduce
herself to Laura in front of us?″ Maggie asked.
‶
Maybe she was undercover—like
me,″ Richard said.
‶
Well, thanks to the Andolinas,
your cover′s been blown.″
‶
Not necessarily. They
didn′t even seem to notice. Which reminds me, at breakfast I asked if she
saw anyone on the stairs after you had your little accident last night.″
‶
Did she?″
‶
No.″
Nobody said anything for long minutes. Maggie
and Richard finished their cones, their attention focused on anything but me.
Finally, Maggie dug into her purse once again
and came up with a travel guide.
‶
Let′s see what else is in
the area,″ she said, flipping pages.
‶
Since we′re in Vermont,
let′s find a covered bridge,″ Richard said.
Maggie consulted a map of the area.
‶
Looks
like there′s one about ten or twelve miles down the road called The Great
Eddy Bridge. Jeff?″
I was still thinking about Eileen′s and
Laura′s argument, but her voice shook me from my reverie.
‶
I′m
game. Let′s go.″
Just as the guidebook promised, the village of
Waitsfield did indeed have a charming covered bridge that had survived the
flooding of the Mad River in 2011. I hauled out the camera and played tourist,
but Maggie was more interested in checking out the Christmas and Teddy Bears
store nearby.
‶
This bridge was built in
1833,″ Richard said, reading the brass placard on the side of the bridge.
“And apparently lucky it didn’t crash into the river like some of the other
bridges during the aftermath of Hurricane Irene.”
The hand-hewn timbers were ten inches square,
and I marveled at the workmanship. I shot pictures from every conceivable angle
and wondered if any would be good enough to sell as calendar shots, amazed at
my sudden confidence in my ability. Still, I enjoyed it, glad for the
distraction. Having Richard along was an added bonus.
I snapped one more shot and replaced the lens
cap.
‶
Do
you realize, this is the first family vacation we′ve ever been on.″
‶
So it is.″ He frowned,
his brow wrinkling.
‶
You know, there are a lot of things I regret not
doing when you were a kid. It never occurred to me to take you on a
vacation.″
I′d lived with Richard and his
grandparents for four long years after the death of our mother. It was not a
fun time. Still in his hospital residency, Richard was seldom home and I was
left to fend for myself with the elderly Alperts—who didn′t care for my
company, either.
‶
You were always working.
Besides, I′d never been on a vacation. I wouldn′t have known what
to do.″
Richard looked thunderstruck.
‶
You
never
went on vacation?″
‶
Mom could barely pay the rent.
Vacations were an unobtainable luxury.″
‶
Jesus,″ he muttered.
‶
Don′t sweat it.
It′s not important.″
‶
But it should have been.″
‶
I finally went on a vacation
when I was nineteen.″ I smiled at the memory.
‶
A buddy and I had a
week′s leave and bummed passage on a C-130 to San Francisco. I had the
time of my life. We must′ve visited every bar on the wharf. Met a lot of
ladies—and I use that term loosely. I was damn lucky not to get the
clap.″
‶
Ah, the good old days,″
Richard said, but his voice held no amusement.
‶
I′ve been a model citizen
ever since,″ I bragged.
‶
What? Oh, sorry. I feel crummy
when you tell me how things were for you growing up. I should′ve been
there for you.″
‶
Hey, you′re here
now.″ I had a feeling that was a lot more important.
‶
Besides,
you didn′t have much choice. Look, I didn′t mean to put a guilt
trip on you. Let′s just enjoy the day, okay? Besides, if you really feel
bad, you can buy my forgiveness with a drink at dinner.″
‶
That I can do.″
We started off toward the Christmas shop.
‶
So
where′d you learn French?″ I asked.
‶
I had a French governess.
Grandmother thought it was chic. And I spent a year studying in France before I
started medical school. You sowed your wild oats in the army—I sowed mine in
Paris.″
‶
And had more fun, too.″
His smile was enigmatic.
‶
Probably.″
An old Victorian mansion housed The Christmas
Shop. We entered the Yuletide wonderland, its crown molding festooned with red
and green twinkling lights while a forest of artificial Christmas trees lined
the walls, their branches bowing under the weight of hundreds of ornaments. Christmas
carols played softly in the background making the holiday atmosphere complete.
‶
We′ll never drag Maggie
out of here,″ I muttered.
‶
I want to look around anyway.
If I don′t come home with some kind of gift, I′ll be in the dog
house with Brenda.″
‶
Suit yourself.″
We split up, Richard entering the room on the
right while I followed the path into the next room. Maggie stood before the
sales counter, conversing with the clerk, a cheerful looking woman of
indeterminate age. Heavyset, with streaks of silver in her hair, the
woman′s eyes seemed to twinkle behind her gold-framed glasses. She could′ve
passed for Santa′s wife, but the tag pinned to her Christmas-red apron
read Barb.
‶
It looks like you bought out
the store,″ I said, indicating the large floral gift bag Maggie held like
a trophy.
‶
Jeff, this is Barbara Jenkins.
She has a booth at the same antique co-op as Susan.″
‶
It’s a small world,″ I
commented as we shook hands.
‶
I was telling Barb that
I′ve known Susan since high school.″
‶
Poor Susan,″ Barbara
clucked.
‶
Poor?″ I asked. Money
squeezed, maybe, but certainly not without assets.
‶
She works so hard and
she′s so unhappy.″ Barb shook her head in sympathy.
‶
If
only Zack would show a little more interest in the place.″
‶
Lazy, huh?″
‶
Not that Susan′s said.
But he′s away so much she seems to get stuck with most of the
responsibility. We haven′t seen much of her at the co-op lately.″
‶
Their marriage is kind of
rocky?″ I guessed.
‶
She thinks he might be having
an affair,″ Barb whispered.
‶
Of course, you won′t
mention this to her, will you?″
‶
Oh, no,″ Maggie promised.
‶
She′s having trouble financially,
too,″ I put in, hoping to pump Barb for more information.
‶
She was looking for an
investor, and asked me if I′d consider being her partner. But I
don′t want to get in the middle. I mean should there be a divorce.″
‶
Their relationship is that
rocky?″ Maggie asked.
‶
Money can be the dividing
factor when a marriage goes sour. Zack had a successful business back in
Connecticut, and Susan talked him into selling it to buy the inn. Then she
spent an awful lot to upgrade the place. They′re still in the red and
Zack resents it. I keep telling her it might take another two or three years
before they see much of a profit, but Susan′s impatient.″
Richard wandered up, balancing a large teddy
bear and several fragile-looking ornaments.
‶
What do you think, Maggie? Will
Brenda like these?″
‶
Oh, yes.″
Barb became very businesslike and rang up
Richard′s purchases, then carefully wrapped them in holly-patterned
tissue paper. Maggie made the mistake of admiring an unusual crèche and it was
another twenty minutes before we could break loose from Barb′s
well-meaning lecture on the subject.
‶
I got the most beautiful
blown-glass ornaments,″ Maggie said as we headed for the car.
‶
Wait
‵
til
you see them.″
‶
Oh, boy,″ I deadpanned.
‶
I′d like to see
them,″ Richard said kindly.
‶
No wonder you get to hear so
many women′s sexual fantasies.″
It took half the trip back to Stowe to explain
it to Maggie.
We decided against an early dinner and Richard
dropped us at the municipal parking lot to pick up the Chevy. I saw the patrol
car across the street when we first pulled up, but didn′t give it much
thought as I unlocked the car. Though the sun had retreated behind a bank of
clouds, a blast of hot air greeted me when I opened the driver′s door. I
rolled down the window before getting in. Too bad the air conditioning had died
during the former owner′s tenure.
‶
Can we go to the grocery
store?″ Maggie asked.
‶
I want to get another bottle of tonic.″