Authors: Jen Estes
Tags: #Maine, #journalist, #womens rights, #yankee, #civil was, #sea captian
“
Cat?
As in Kitty, Kitty?”
“
As in
cataclysm.” She smiled at Benji.
“
Cataclysm?” Delilah regarded her with smiling skepticism. “You
pulling my leg?”
Benji wrapped his
arm around Cat’s waist. “It’s short for Catriona.”
“
How
’bout that? That’s almost as funny sounding.”
Cat ignored her,
taking in the immaculately landscaped yard. Much of the summer
blooms had already been deadheaded but she imagined the lawn gave
the Art District a run for its Monet in the warmer months. That is,
the natural landscaping. She couldn’t say the same for Delilah’s
artificial touches.
“
That’s a neat, uh, bowling ball over there.”
Delilah followed
her stare to a metallic globe on a pedestal surrounded by shrubs.
She laughed. “Darling, that’s a gazing ball. They go all the way
back to the thirteenth century as good luck for monarchs and
such.”
Benji took a step
toward it. “So, is it an antique?”
“
Heavens, no. I got that one down at the Rural Mart for
fifty-nine dollars.” She waved them to follow as she stepped up to
the porch. “Come on, come on. Let me give you a tour of the
B&B.”
The front door
squeaked open and the hardwood floors flooded into a grand living
room. Tapestried couches faced each other on top of a floral rug.
There was plenty of room for the three of them to maneuver around
the Victoria accent tables.
“
We do
all sorts of celebrations here. Your fiancé said you guys are
having a small weddin’?”
“
Around fifty people.”
“
All
out-of-towners?”
Benji nodded.
“Pretty much.”
“
Well
we can only accommodate ten for overnight stays. We have five
guestrooms here but there’s a Holiday Inn just down the
road.”
Cat snuck a
wistful gaze out the window for Benji’s benefit. He acknowledged it
with a playful jab. Delilah didn’t notice as she led the way to a
staircase and began waddling up the creaky steps.
“
This
here’s all our bedrooms. We’ve named each of them after
pies.”
“
I’m
sorry, pies?”
“
Yes,
pies. You know what them are, don’t ya?”
Cat turned to
Benji with a gritted smile. “Yes, I know what a pie is.”
“
Wouldn’t know it by the looks of ya. Don’t worry, marriage
will put some meat on those bones.”
Cat bristled, and
Benji placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
Delilah pushed
open the first door, which was painted an annoyingly chipper shade
of red. “This is the Apple Suite.”
An Irish Setter
bounded off the canopy queen bed and through the doorway. Cat
dodged him but he followed her, jumping up her legs and playfully
pawing at her skirt. Cat gave him a timid pat on the top of his
silky head.
“
Good
boy.”
“
That’s just Rusty. He’s the unofficial mascot of the À La Mode
Abode.”
"I recognize him from your sweatshirt," Cat
mumbled, just out of Delilah's earshot.
“
Hey,
look at that, Cat, you’re both redheads,” Benji said.
“
Yeah,
but his doesn’t come from Lady Clairol,” Delilah
replied.
Cat jerked her
head up, but Delilah had already moved down the hallway. Rusty
trotted happily behind. She narrowed her eyes at Benji, her
annoyance fueled by his amusement.
“
I do
not dye my hair,” she hissed.
“
I
know. Come on, we’re missing the tour.”
Cat glared at the
back of Delilah’s bushy head, noting every split end for her own
satisfaction, as the rotund innkeeper pushed open the only door not
painted the shade of a pie filling. “This is the shared
bathroom.”
Cat widened her
eyes at Benji and whispered, “Every bride’s dream. Sharing a
bathroom with ten strangers.”
He shushed her
and grabbed her hand. “We can rent the entire place out just for
you and me.”
She scrunched her
nose as she showed him her slobber-streaked skirt. “Don’t forget
Rusty.”
“
Hey!”
Delilah’s bark came from what she surmised must be the Blueberry
Room. “Where are ya? I wanna show ya the balcony.”
They followed the
orders issued from beyond the purple door. Standing out on a
balcony, Delilah pointed down to the backyard with a lit cigarette.
It was a gorgeous view of an equally stunning yard that housed
wooden benches, flower patches and homemade birdhouses. From a
gazebo in the middle, a stone path led down to the
river.
“
We do
the vows in the hut there. I can officiate—” She broke off to hack
for several seconds. Cat took a step back, surveying her to see if
she was choking. Delilah pounded on her chest for good measure. “Or
you can bring in a clergyman of your choice.”
Cat pressed her
lips together. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“
I’m
sure it’s a big decision but À La Mode Abode would love to be part
of your special day.”
“
Well,
we’re gonna have to think about it. Right, Benji?”
He nodded,
following her lead. “I have all your information.”
“
Let
me give you some brochures.”
“
Oh,
it’s okay. All your information is online.”
“
Suit
yourself. Now you’ve got the Blueberry Room for the night, it’s the
best one in the whole house. If you need anything, I’ll be right
downstairs.” She slapped her thigh and wiggled out the balcony
door. “Come on, Rusty.”
Rusty didn’t
budge from his perch on the queen-sized bed. Delilah grabbed him by
the collar and he snarled.
“
Get,
get!”
Rusty hopped off
the bed and trotted down the hallway, his claws ticking on the
hardwood floor. Cat eyed the fur-laden spot he’d left on the quilt
and waited for Delilah to close the door behind her. She turned to
Benji, who was doing his best to feign innocence.
“
What’d ya think?” he said.
She waited until
she heard the stairs creaking. “This is all a joke. One of your
crazy Benji ways of getting me to laugh after a terrible
day.”
“
What?” He shrugged, a smile twitching at his lips. “That
backyard would be a gorgeous place for a wedding
ceremony.”
“
Especially if we get Typhoid Mary over there to officiate. I
wonder, is the phlegm extra? Can Cujo be our ring bearer? And I
know! The flower girl can spread Delilah’s cigarette butts instead
of
flower
petals.”
He burst into
laughter. “Okay, okay. I swear, neither Rusty nor Delilah were
listed on the website.
It is a
gorgeous place though, you have to admit that.
”
“
Do
you really want to get married here?” She gestured around the
quaint room. “Spending your wedding night with Delilah
downstairs?”
“
No.
But we’ve been engaged now for eleven months, in which time you’ve
rejected nearly every wedding venue I’ve suggested—without offering
any alternatives, I might add.”
“
I
haven’t rejected every single site.”
“
Oh
really? A church?”
“
Our
families are different faiths. Either my grams or your parents are
going to be upset. Why go there?”
“
The
beach?”
“
Sand
would get in everyone’s shoes.”
“
Horse
ranch?”
“
Horse
poop.”
“
Ski
lodge?”
“
Me in
a white dress standing in front of white snow? Our wedding pictures
would look like you married a floating red wig.”
“
Cruise ship?” Benji’s voice was going flatter with each
suggestion.
“
Then
we have to spend our honeymoon with our guests on a boat for a
week.”
“
Hawaiian plantation?”
“
My
hair frizzes.”
“
Volcano?”
“
Too
hot—” She caught herself and offered him an apologetic smile.
“Point taken. I guess I have been a
little
selective.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting it to be perfect.”
“
Okay,
so what’s perfect?”
“
I
don’t—”
“
If
money wasn’t an issue.”
The cross-country
move had cleaned out their savings, but they’d been able to
squirrel away a good chunk for a decent affair. Still, weddings
were expensive. Benji’s parents had offered to chip in, but they’d
politely declined.
“
Money
is an issue. Remember me? The girl with no dowry?”
“
We
can afford a nice wedding and what we can’t pay for outright, we
can get a loan.”
She frowned. “We
both decided we don’t want to start a marriage off in debt. If ‘I
Do’ automatically comes with a forty percent chance of subpoena and
finances are the number one cause of divorce …. Well, math doesn’t
lie.”
“
Come
on, just play along. Pretend I’m the heir to an Israeli empire and
we could get married anywhere in the world.”
“
Hmm …
barring a sudden change of heart here at the À La Mode Abode, then
I would have to say … France.”
“
As in
the Eiffel Tower? Because you know, we can do that in
Vegas.”
“
No
.” She shook her head. “One of those sixteenth
century chateaus in the Loire Valley, with wildflowers and real
champagne. And a moat.”
“
That’s what it takes to get you to the altar, huh?” He eyed
her suspiciously. “I’m starting to think you have cold
feet.”
“
I
don’t, I promise, my feet are hot and sweaty for you.” With a goofy
smile, she slid a foot out of her
satin pump
and wiggled her toes at him.
“See?”
He went to grab
her foot when her phone rang and she yanked it back, trying to
catch her balance as she reached for her purse. She pulled out the
cellphone and glared at the caller ID. “Finally. Guess who?” She
put it on speakerphone for Benji’s benefit. “Quinn.”
“
You
rang?”
“
I
rang
about twenty times. Do you know what kind of hell you
made for me today all because of your little game last night? And
Spencer, too? You put us both in a really awkward
position.”
Benji’s head
jerked up and his eyes bulged out, testing the strength of his
sockets as he silently demanded an explanation. She turned her back
to him to concentrate on whatever load Quinn was about to throw her
way.
“
I
could get fired over this.”
“
You
could?” Quinn’s concern sounded sincere. “Really?”
“
Yes.
Not to mention, you had me lying to the police. You’re not here
twenty-four hours and it’s like old times.” Silence fell on the
line.
“
It is
not. How many times do I have to tell you I’ve changed?”
“
Don’t
tell me, show me. A good way to start would be by telling the
truth.”
“
Okay.”
“
Okay
what?”
“
Okay,
I’ll call that detective up and tell him that I forgot your friend
was there.”
“
No.
You can’t do that to
Spencer.
”
He chuckled. “Now
who’s lying?”
Cat sighed. “I
just don’t want to make this any worse.”
“
Calm
down, it’s not that big a deal. Don’t you have more important
things to worry about anyway? Playoffs and all that
shit?”
“
I’d
love nothing better than to be worry about game one. Instead I’m
wondering if I’m gonna come home to more cops.”
“
I’m
not even gonna be there tonight.”
“
Where
are you … Quinn, how’d you meet a girl already?” She gave it a
second thought. “Never mind, I don’t even want to know.”
“
Probably best.”
“
Just
… stay out of trouble. Please.”
“
Always, baby Sis.”
A click and then
silence. Cat looked at the dead screen and then at Benji. His face
was frozen, all the way down to his clenched jaw.
“
Spencer?”
“
Hmm?”
She’d heard him just fine, but was buying time.
“
Spencer was at our house last night?”
“
It’s
my fault. At the party, he offered to keep an eye on Quinn. I
didn’t think he’d take that job so seriously.”
“
You
lied to the police for Spencer?”
“
It
was Quinn’s idea because he had left way earlier.”
“
So
you’re taking all the heat while Spencer just la-tee-freaking-dahs
his way around the stadium?” Benji took a deep breath and lowered
his voice. “That’s not fair.”
She scoffed.
“Have you been paying attention at all? Fair didn’t make the
playoffs.”
“
Cat,
the detective asked who all was at our apartment. We lied
to the
police!
”