The Cupid Chronicles (17 page)

“William Shakespeare once said:
‘We know what we are; but know not what we may be.'
I know this for sure. I am my grandfather's granddaughter, and whatever I will be, whatever I will do in my life, his spirit will shine on in me.”

It's a long evening as people come through the receiving line, saying kind words to Nana and
Stella and Sam and me. Tina is the first of my friends in line, her face wet with tears. She hugs me tight. “If there's anything I can do for you, sweetie.
Anything.
You just call me.”

“I'm sorry, Tina, but we're going to have to cancel the beach party.”

“Of course, Willa, we know. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.”

The workers from Sweet Bramble Books come through and all the staff from the inn. My teachers, our neighbors.
Where is JFK?

Emily, Trish, Lauren, and Kelsey.
Where is he?
Jessie and Luke and Lexy and Caroline, even Ruby Sivler and her parents,
where is—

And then I see him. JFK. At the end of the line, covered with snow.

“It was a very long line out there,” Stella whispers in my ear.

He came.
I'm so confused. Thoughts from my head and thoughts from my heart converge like the currents at the tip of the spit. Does he like me or does he like Ruby? He's here, but why did he give Ruby the locket?

By the time he reaches me, the snow has melted and JFK is dripping wet. He looks like a golden-haired shaggy dog with very, very blue eyes. He's
wearing his Bramble uniform. JFK got dressed up for Gramp.

There will be time for explanations later. What matters now is that he is here.

“I'm sorry, Willa.” His lip trembles. “Come here,” he says. He hugs me.

And thankfully, at last, I cry.

CHAPTER 25
 
The Sign
 

If ever thou shalt love,
In the sweet pangs of it remember me …

—Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night

On Friday, after the funeral, everyone comes back to the inn for lunch. I try to be cheerful for Nana and helpful for Stella. I try to listen to the kind things people say, not remembering a word of it. I am in a dream, a horrible dream.

It's always sad when someone dies, but, until you lose someone you love, really love, you don't know how much it hurts.

The next morning I'm in the kitchen making tea, when Stella comes in.

“Want to go for a run with me?” she asks. “I think the roads are clear now.”

Stella never asks me to ran with her. She likes to go alone.

“Sure,” I say. “Just let me get dressed.”

We jog toward town. We don't say a word by Sweet Bramble Books. There's a stunning red cardinal on the tree out front. It looks at me as we pass.

“To the beach?” Stella shouts.

“Sure,” I say. And then we don't talk anymore.

It's so cold, we make ghosts in the air as we breathe. I push myself to keep up with Stella. I'm a pretty strong runner from soccer, but Stella's much faster than me.

After a bit, she slows down and adjusts her pace to mine. We are nearly to Sandy Beach. I turn to say something, but then I see her face. My mother looks calm, peaceful. The way Sam looks on his bench in the labyrinth. The way Mum looks at BUC. I smile and zip my lips. It's enough just to be with her.

Later, after lunch, I get on my boots. Sam cleared the labyrinth path yesterday. I brush snow from the statue of the girl reading a book. Stella and Sam brought it back for me from their honeymoon on Nantucket. The weekend after Nana and Gramp got married. Everything was perfect then. My four favorite people were in love.

Sam is sitting on the old stone bench in the middle of the labyrinth. His eyes are closed. I walk quietly so I won't disturb him.

The holly bushes are in bloom. The ground is frozen but clear of brush. Sam takes good care of this circle. I bend down for a sprig of lavender, rub the green needles between my fingers and sniff.
Mmmm.
Nana's favorite. Gramp wore a boutonniere of lavender from this garden on their Valentine's wedding day. “Good thing about lavender,” Sam said then. “It blooms again and again.”

I throw the sprig down. I kick a stump.
How could you do this? Why Gramp?

A cardinal lands on a branch before me. It looks like the one I saw earlier. The red is bright against the gray. The bird looks at me,
hurrgh, hurrgh,
then flies off.

I take a deep breath and let it out. I take another and another. The labyrinth path loops me inward and then away as I circle toward the center.

After awhile, as I walk, I am more peaceful inside. The red bird comes back.
Hello.
I keep on breathing and walk, feeling better as I go.

When I reach the bench, Sam sees me and smiles. I sit and lean my head on his arm. His wool sweater is scratchy. Neither of us wants to talk.

The red cardinal comes again. It looks at me,
hurrgh, hurrgh,
and it's off.

That night as I write in my journal, I think about my day. The run with Stella. The labyrinth with Sam. The stunning red cardinal. And as I write, it strikes me. I start laughing through my tears.
Thank you.
Thanks for the sign. Death comes but love lives on.

Bird by bird, buddy. Bird by bird.

CHAPTER 26
 
Making Santa Believe
 

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth
brings …

—Shakespeare,
Sonnet 29

When Nana sent Gramp's obituary notice to the
Cape Cod Times
she wrote, “in lieu of flowers, and in honor of Alexander's great love of books, the family invites friends to send memorial contributions to the Save the Bramble Library Fund c/o First United Bank of Bramble, Cape Cod, Massachusetts.”

Alexander Tweed had a lot of friends. Checks poured in like tourists across the Bourne Bridge on the fourth of July. Fifty dollars. One hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars. Six dollars and twenty-five cents from Mr. Cohen's grandson.

And then, by special delivery, a letter came addressed to me from Charles Noble Butler III, New York, New York. Gramp's old school buddy, “Chas.”

$10,000.

I run into the kitchen, smack into Stella. “Mother, we've got it. $10,000. That's exactly what we need!”

“Hoorah!” Stella says. She lifts me up and swirls me around.

“What's all the commotion?” Sam says, rushing in.

“We did it!” I'm dancing my nose-in-the-air Snoopy dance. “Gramp made Santa believe. Just wait until Mrs. Saperstone hears!”

Sam and Stella are laughing, so happy for me.

But then I think of something. I stop dancing. “It's sort of cheating how we got the money, though. We were supposed to earn it.”

“You did, Willa,” Stella says, clenching my arm. “You absolutely did. I learned this in my MBA course on development at NYU. There are two major kinds of philanthropy. There's
fund-
raising and then there's
friend-
raising. The first is good, but the second is more powerful. Your gramp believed in you so much that he convinced his friend Chas to believe. And who knows who Chas will influence?
When you friend-raise the good just keeps on spreading.”

I smile at my mother. I hug her. “Thanks, Mom.”

On the way to the library, I see Ruby. We walk along Main Street. I tell her the good news. Ruby stares at me funny. I think she's going to cry or something.

“You're so lucky, Willa,” she says. “You're smart and pretty and people really like you. There's something different about you, too. Like caring so much about saving the library….” She shakes her head. “I wish I …” Ruby stops in front of the new Sea Spa. She looks at her watch. “Well, anyway. I'm late for my mud wrap.”

Ruby thinks I'm lucky? She actually sounded jealous of me. What a surprise. But it's Mrs. Saperstone who is in for the really big surprise.

The closed sign is up but the door is open. I burst in shouting the news.

Mrs. Saperstone is standing by the window, wearing her coat. There are boxes everywhere. Outside the whale fountain is covered with snow.

“We raised all the money. Even more than we needed! I don't know how much total, but it's way more than the $10,000 the council said we …”

“Willa.” Mrs. Saperstone puts a book in a box. She shakes her head. She sits down. “I don't know how to tell you this …” Her lips tighten as she hands me a letter.

It's from Mr. Sivler, on behalf of the town council. “It seems we have miscalculated the extent of the library's financial dilemma. The situation is significantly more dire than originally projected …”

Now they need $20,000 by February 15.

“No,” I say, my heart pounding. “They can't do this. That's not fair!”

I'm late for our Community Service meeting. I bound into the room with the news about the increase. Only a few of the girls are there and none of the boys. “We can't let the council get away with this,” I say. “We're going to have to double our goal for January and I think maybe we'll have to increase ticket prices for the February dance …” I stop when I realize that nobody is listening. And where are all the boys? “Come on, everybody. Let's do the Bowl-for-Books idea for January.”

Tina and Ruby look at each other. They don't like bowling.

“You know, Willa,” Tina says. “I think we should
skip it. Let's focus on making the Midwinter Night's Dream a huge hit.”

“Better than the gym, I got the Mashpee Commons Great Room for free,” Ruby says. “It can hold five hundred people. And Mommy's flying in her friend, Shirley Katz, from Manhattan, to consult on decorations and food. Shirley plans A-list events for the Trumps and I've sent fliers to all the Cape high schools …”

After school, I stop by Mum's. From the porch I hear music, a man's voice, Mum's chuckle.

“Willa, what a nice surprise,” Mum says. “How are you holding up? And how's your Nana doing?”

“We're hanging in there,” I say.