Seasons of the Fool (22 page)

Authors: Lynne Cantwell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Seasons of the Fool

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She crossed her arms. “How did you find me?”

“I read the paper,” he said, finally dropping his arms. “You’re famous, you know, for taking down one of the biggest scam artists in history.”

She sighed inwardly. It had been two weeks since Lance’s sentencing. Since then, some enterprising reporter had gotten the story behind the plea, worming it somehow out of the prosecutor’s office. Well, they got most of the story, anyway. Either Andy hadn’t shared everything he knew, or the leak in the prosecutor’s office hadn’t given away all of it. In any case, she had been besieged by reporters for a few days after the story broke. A few of them had even tracked her to Michiana. One network had parked a microwave truck right across from her cottage, and refused to move it until Mr. Starek called the cops. “The signal’s shit here anyway,” she heard one of the tech guys say to the other one as they were pulling away. “Too many trees.”

She had refused every interview request. But still, there had been enough publicity about her location that Jesse’s story was plausible.

“This is a pretty sweet little place,” he said, scanning the front of the cottage. “Mind if I go in?”

She moved to block the sidewalk. “Yes. What do you want, anyway?”

His expression turned hangdog. “I need a place to stay. Just for a couple of nights, ‘til I can get my head together.”

He was still good-looking, she would grant him that. Tall and broad-shouldered, he wore his clothes with an unstudied grace. His blond ponytail had been shorn off at some point; while his hair wasn’t buzzcut short, it was acceptably short for a regular job. And he’d lost the beard, too; without it, he looked young and vulnerable.

But she knew better. “So you got fired. Or your latest squeeze kicked you out. Or maybe both. Am I right?”

“Aw, man, don’t be like this. Can we just....” He made as if to go around her to the door; again, she stepped into his path.

“No, we can’t. You’re not coming in. How did you get here, anyway?”

“I got a lift.” That self-effacing smile of his was back.

“From who?”

“Some dude who lives at the end of the block. Oh, hey, there he is!” He pointed at Dave, of all people, who was ambling down the street toward them.

She couldn’t believe it. “Did you give him a lift to my house?” she yelled, hooking a thumb at Jesse.

“No, I gave him a lift to
my
house. He said he had a friend in the neighborhood who he was supposed to….” Dave squinted at her unwanted guest. “Wait a minute. You’re
that
Jesse?”

“Hey, would you look at that,” Jesse said with a laugh. “I’m famous, too!”

“And not in a good way,” said Julia. “Get out.”

“No, hey, come on, Julie….”

She winced. “My name is Julia. Why are you still here?”

“Listen, son.” Dave reached up to put a hand on the other man’s opposite shoulder. “Here’s what I’m going to need for you to do.” He turned and began walking toward the road, half-pulling Jesse along with him.

Julia, curious, followed them. She stopped at her gate, but the men kept walking until they were in the middle of the street. Then Dave pulled Jesse around to face away from Ms. Thea’s and Ms. Elsie’s. “You’re going to walk to where I let you out. See that?” He pointed to his own house.

“Uh-huh,” said Jesse.

“Now, when you get there, I’m going to need for you to turn left.”

“Okay.”

“In about a block, you’ll get to Lake Shore Drive. That’s the road that parallels the beach.”

“Right.”

“I need for you to turn left there again, and keep walking.”

Jesse looked at him. “Where will that get me?”

Dave shrugged. “Michigan City, eventually. Or maybe some other poor schmuck will pick you up. But you are not, under any circumstances, going to come back here and bother either Julia or me again. Got it?”

Jesse’s eyes widened. Then he started to laugh. “I get it now. You’re her latest boyfriend, huh? Man, you and I should get a beer sometime. I could tell you some stories about her and me.”

Dave waited until he had stopped laughing. “Get moving,” he said, in a tone Julia had never heard him use before – not even with his kids.

Jesse threw up his hands. “Okay, okay, I get the picture. I know when I’m not wanted.” He turned to look at Julia, who stood just inside the gate with her arms crossed. He glanced once more at Dave. Then he shrugged and headed down the road.

Dave stayed put until he was sure Jesse had turned the corner and wasn’t coming back. Then he walked over to Julia. “Sorry,” he said. “If I’d known who he was, I never would have picked him up.”

She sighed and uncrossed her arms. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.” She threw a disgusted glance in the direction Jesse had gone. “Man, the vermin all come out of the woodwork eventually, don’t they? First Ron, then Lance, and now Jesse.” She shook her head.

“Thank you for not including me in your roster of cockroaches,” he said.

“Never,” she said, and opened the gate for him.

He didn’t move. “Are you sure you want me to come in?” he asked. All trace of humor had fled. “All I’ve done for the past year is bring trouble to your doorstep.”

She regarded him fondly. “That’s not how I see it at all.”

“Oh?”

“Nope.” She smiled. “A whole lot of other men have brought trouble to my doorstep. You’re the only one who has brought me joy.”

He smiled in relief and stepped through the gate.

“Did the kids come with you?” she asked as they slipped their arms around each other.

He shook his head. “They’re helping Angie pack Nina’s stuff to take to her house.”

“Is it going to be a problem, having Nina living there? I know you relied on her for babysitting quite a bit.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Angie’s willing to supervise their visitation with Nina. And Randi will be twelve in a couple of weeks. She’ll be old enough then to babysit Ritchie after school.”

“She didn’t tell me her birthday was coming up,” Julia said. “I’ll have to get her something. What does she want?”

“A new mom,” he said with a grin.

She grinned back. “I can’t give her that until her next birthday. But you can tell her it’s coming for sure.” She pulled open the screen door. “Come on in.”

~~~~

Our Tale Ends

~~~~

“The Wheel has turned again,” Thea says, as she places the final cards on the kitchen table. “Judgment. And The World.”

“No surprises,” Elsie says. “That awful ex-husband of Julia’s is in prison, right where he should be, and she and Dave finally have their reward.” She is wearing a dress, the fabric covered in tiny lavender flowers. It goes well with Thea’s dress of deep green. “Are you ready?”

“Just a minute, dear,” Thea says, scooping up the cards. “Don’t forget your hat.”

“Oh, yes,” Elsie says, and snags it from its perch atop one of the loom’s uprights. The loom itself is empty; the weaving that has been in progress for so many years has already been wrapped in wedding paper and delivered to Julia’s cottage.

Thea regards her with a fond gaze. Then she nods toward the loom. “Have you decided what our next project will be?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” she says. “Maybe a baby blanket.”

The ladies share a secret smile. Then, arm in arm, they walk out their door and promenade down the street, enjoying the air on this crisp evening in early September. The leaves around them shine red and gold in the fading light.

The party is already in full swing when they arrive. The bride and groom have hired a four-piece band, and the musicians have just begun playing the song for their first dance.

It’s a small party. The children are here, of course, both still dressed in the outfits they wore for the ceremony, although Ritchie has managed to get grass stains on his knees. Their mother, too, is here, accompanied by her sister. Nina looks calm, as if her spirit is finally at rest. She has begun cultivating a new relationship with Randi and Ritchie. They may never fully trust her, but they are coming to love her again.

The far-flung cousins, Tim and Jen, would not have missed this for the world. They are here with their respective spouses in tow. Tim is even talking about moving back home, now that their mother has passed on. He has his eye on a cottage just a block from Dave and Julia’s. He expressed an interest in their grandparents’ cottage, but Julia told him she intends to keep using it as a writing retreat. And so she does. But she is also protecting the labyrinth, for she is certain her practical cousin would want it removed.

Some of Dave’s fellow faculty members have come, as well as a few of Julia’s old friends from Evanston. Each group has formed its own tight circle. But the evening is still young, and they will be mixing with one another soon enough.

Even Ed Starek is here to tip a glass to the newlyweds.

As the new husband and wife share a kiss, the roar of approval filters up through the autumn treetops and carries all the way to the lake. There, the waves continue their unceasing beat against the shore, as the lights of Chicago twinkle in the distance.

~~~~

Author’s Note

In a sense, I’ve come home by writing this book. I grew up in Julia’s neighborhood, although not in a cottage like hers (our place more closely resembled Ed Starek’s house). The lake and the woods are just as I have depicted them here. But don’t go looking for the labyrinth, the ley line intersection, or Nokomis Trail, as all of them are my own invention.

It always takes a village to get a novel out the door, and
Seasons
has been no exception. My thanks this time go to Susan Strayer, my editor; Kat Milyko, my beta reader; Melody Stiles, who diagnosed Nina for me; Kriss Morton (no relation to Julia!), who created a new cover for this edition and ran the Kindle Scout marketing campaign, and did it all while sick with shingles; and the minions at Indies Unlimited, for help with whipping the blurb into shape, general moral support, and the best virtual gruel on teh intarwebz.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t also thank everybody who nominated
Seasons
at Kindle Scout. I am beyond grateful for your support, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading the book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to stop by
my blog
and my Facebook page and say hello, so I can thank you in (virtual) person.

If you enjoyed
Seasons
, won’t you please post a review? And
please click here
to sign up for my spam-free newsletter, so you can stay informed of new releases and special offers (because we all know how great Facebook is at keeping everyone up to date). Thank you!

Lynne Cantwell

November 2014

About the Author

Lynne Cantwell is the author of eleven fantasy novels. She is also a contributing author for Indies Unlimited. In a previous life, she was a broadcast journalist who worked at Mutual/NBC Radio News, CNN, and a bunch of other places you have probably never heard of. She has a master's degree in fiction writing from Johns Hopkins University. Currently, she lives near Washington, D.C.

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