Embers (31 page)

"
Why, indeed,
"
she heard him say behind her. It was a question that she
realized
she
'
d have to know the answer to, sooner or later.

"
I called that realtor you told me about,
"
he said to Allie.
"
I
'
ve had to call a roofer, too. The tenants told me the bedroom ceiling leaks so badly, they
'
ve been forced to store the double bed in the garage and put in two singles, with a bucket between them to catch the rain.
"

"
That
'
s
awful,
"
said Allie with real feeling.

Meg glanced up at her sister, who was blushing an attractive shade of rosy pink. It didn
'
t seem fair: every emotion that Allie Atwells had ever felt, from anger to embarrassment, only made her look more beautiful. Couldn
'
t she get puffy when she cried, or laugh in shrill tones, or bloat up before her period? Couldn
'
t Allegra Atwells be counted on to do
anything
ugly?

"
Meggie!
"
cried Allie in her damnably enchanting voice. She pointed to the bowl in Meg
'
s hands.
"
The lady wanted her French toast made with all
whites,
not all yolks.
"

Meg stared into the bowl of creamy yellow yolks she
'
d been whisking so furiously.
"
I knew that,
"
she said abruptly, and put the bowl in the refrigerator as if she had a plan.

The reality was, she had no plan
—
for the yolks, for Allie, or for Tom Wyler. She knew what she
didn
'
t want: she didn
'
t want Tom and Allie in that cabin alone together. In a single bed
or
in a double. Beyond that, she could not say.
"
Serve the damn crêpes, Allie,
"
she said with an evil scowl.
"
The natives surely are getting restless out there.
"

"
Tsk, tsk,
"
her sister mocked in a cheerful voice.
"
Smile, smile,
smile!
"
She scooped up a plate of crêpes and glided theatrically out of the room.

"
Are you eating here today, Lieutenant?
"
Meg asked,
whisking the right part of the eggs at last
.

"
Why do I think that
'
s not an invitation?
"
he answered as he came up behind her.

She forced herself not to turn
around; he was far too close.

One look into his eyes and she
'
d be lost.
"
You know you
'
re always welcome,
"
she made herself say.

"
That
'
s not the feeling I got last night
—
"

Allie glided back into the kitchen with an empty plate in each hand. She whirled around in front of them both and batted her heavily lashed eyes at Tom.
"
Just practicing my serving technique for the Fourth of July dance,
"
she said in an outrageously sultry voice.

Meg considered breaking the plates over her sister
'
s head and knocking her out altogether to slow her down, but restrained herself.

"
The dance is why I
'
m here, Cinderella,
" Tom said to Al
lie.
"
Guess what I have two of, in the pocket of my shirt?
"

"
You
'
re
kidding,
"
Allie said, comprehending at once. She dropped the dishes on the counter and made a mad dash for the tickets sticking out from his shirt pocket.

She plucked out the two invitations with great melodrama
—
Meg had never before realized how irritating her sister could be
—
and squealed,
"
How did you get them? You didn
'
t actually
pay
for them?
"

"
Connections, child; connections. I knew you wanted to go
—
"

"
With Meg! On business!
"
cried Allie with a tragic look.
"
Not with you, for pleasure. Oh, this is too bad
—
"

"
Don
'
t be silly, Allie,
"
said Meg, noticing too late that she
'
d overbrowned the damn egg whites. Sick to death of the French-toast project, she flopped the ill-fated bread on an unwarmed plate and said grimly,
"
I
'
ll
take this out to her. Personally.
"

On her way out of the kitchen, she turned to Tom.
"
As for my sister,
"
she said,
"
of course she
'
ll go with you. I
'
ll fade in with the rest of the help. Between us we ought to be able to come up with something on Camplin.
"

"
Camplin? What
'
s he got to do with
—?
"

Allie sucked in her breath and said,
"Ayyy ...
haven
'
t quite filled you in on all the details, Tom.
"

Meg turned to her sister with a ferocious look.
"
Well,
fill
him, in that case,
"
she said, and stomped away from these people she hated with food she hated for a guest she hated.
  She wanted Tom involved, and if it took Allie
to get him there, then so be it.

When she came back it was to see Tom and Allie with their heads together. Allie said,
"
We
'
ve decided
—
"

"
She
'
s
decided.
"

"
—
not to do it your way, Meg. Everybody knows that most of the waitressing during high season is done by college kids. You should go with Tom and act, like, well, you
'
re on a date.
I
'
ll
go as the help.
"  She kindly refrained from stating the obvious:  that Meg was too old to pass for a college kid.

For a moment Meg was speechless. Then she turned to Tom.
"
You can
'
t possibly have agreed to this,
"
she said.

"
Actually, I think that the two of you should take the tickets and leave me out of this,
"
he said amiably.

Allie was scandalized.
"
How would it look, us walking in arm-in-arm like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford?
"

The image popped indelibly into Meg
'
s mind.
"
Hysterical,
"
she said promptly.
"
Let
'
s do it.
"

Both sisters burst into laughter, leaving Tom looking first at one, then the other, in bewilderment.

"
This means
...
you two
are
going together?
"

"
Of course not,
"
Meg said, still smiling.
"
Allie
'
s absolutely right. We couldn
'
t possibly.
"

She turned back to her sister.
"
But I don
'
t have a thing to wear.
"

"
What about that fancy green dress?
"

"
You
'
ve got to be kidding. I haven
'
t worn that in five years.
"
It hasn'
t
fit me in seven,
she added to herself.

Allie pursed her lips, deep in thought. Then she snapped her fingers and cried,
"
Wait! That gorgeous silk thing that I bought on sale! I haven
'
t had it altered yet. It
'
d be
perfect
for you. That lavender shade would look better on you than me, anyway.
"

"
Oh,
that
one,
"
said Meg, her eyes shining.
"
That
is
pretty.
"

"
We
'
ll try it on right after breakfast,
"
Allie said excitedly.
"
How much more time here?
"
She looked at her watch.
"
Ten more minutes. Oh, the hell with it. Let
'
s close up shop.
"

"
Al-lee,
"
her sister warned.

Allie rolled her eyes and took up the coffee carafe.
"
All right, all right. I
'
ll do the hospitality thing,
"
she said with a jumpy, impatient sigh.
"
And, Tom?
"

He was leaning against the counter, in that ridiculous shirt, with his arms folded across his chest, monitoring their excitement with a bemused look.
"
Yo,
"
he said, smiling.

"
Uncle Billy
'
s Fourth of July picnic is all day Saturday, so you won
'
t be able to run around for a tux then. If there
'
s nothing left to rent in town, you may have to go to
Bangor
—
unless! You happened to bring one with you?
"

Tom said,
"
A tuxedo?
"

For some reason he looked at Meg. She remembered the look long, long after that morning in the kitchen. It was a look filled with indulgence, good humor, and plain, sheer amazement.

"
No, Allie,
"
he said, his voice filled with a delicious sense of irony.
"
I meant to pack it but
, 
dadgum
,
I forgot.
"

"
Too bad,
"
said Allie, completely missing his tone.
"
Oh, well. The tickets do say black tie
'
s optional. Isn
'
t this
great?
A picnic and then a dance, with my two favorite people,
"
she said, sweeping them both up in a wave of high-powered energy as she waltzed out of the kitchen with the last of the crêpes.

Obviously it made no difference to Allie whether she was going as a guest or as a slave, just so long as she was part of the action.

Tom chuckled and shook his head. He needed a shave; Meg could practically hear the rasp of his chin as he drew his fingers across it and said to her,
"
How about you? Ready to party?
"

Clearly the man was confusing his Cinderellas. Meg was ready for anything
but
partying. The weather forecast for the holiday weekend was perfect; the Inn Between
was booked solid. Comfort was fl
at-out busy with Uncle Billy
'
s annual
picnic, so Meg was taking over her chores at the inn. In her spare time, she was trying to research the Bar Harbor Fire. Not to mention, now she
'
d have to run out and buy a pair of glass slippers.