The Promise of Home (17 page)

“You know, Michael, my first thought when I saw you come out of the barn was to wonder how Lizzie had managed to grow taller at her age.”

He glanced at his uncle with a wounded expression. Would this humiliation ever end? “Please don't say anything else, Uncle Frank. I don't think the clothes helped much, and I didn't want to wear them, anyway.” Michael pulled the unbuttoned dress over his head and draped it, inside out, over one of the kitchen chairs. “I didn't expect anyone to see me.”

Frank chuckled. “I know, I know. I won't needle you about it anymore. I've known your grandmother for a long time, and she has some crazy ideas. You went along with this one to humor her, and that was truly good of you. Something you did must've worked better than this morning, though. How did you manage—”

His uncle's voice was interrupted by a commotion coming from his mother's room. There was her voice crying out unintelligible words, mixed in with the raised voices of his grandmother and the doctor. The bedroom door opened, and the doctor spoke loudly into the hallway.

“Father, could you come help us? We've got to get your sister to the hospital immediately.”

J
ust before noon on Saturday, Claudia walked into the bakery. She looked around and saw Kyle and Rowen waving from one of the corner tables.

“Right on time,” Kyle said as she approached. He stood to give her a quick peck on the mouth before she sat down.

“So, Kevin and Misty aren't here yet?” she asked, but she'd barely asked the question before the bell on the front door of the bakery jingled again.

Kyle's face broke into a grin as he waved at a man who was a younger, heavier, and less handsome version of him. The man and a woman with long blond hair were standing at the front entrance. “Uncle Kevin!” Rowen called.

The couple turned toward them and smiled. “Hey, Kyle,” the man said when they had reached the table. “Wow, Ro, you've grown a foot since I last saw you. And Claudia, you still intend to marry this guy? No second thoughts?” He winked at Kyle and then pulled her into a hug as she laughed.

“Nice to see you, too, Kevin. And no, there are no second thoughts.”

“There's still time, still time. Hey, this is Misty Lynn.” He had his portly arm around Misty and ushered her forward as he introduced her.

“Hi.” The woman shrugged and offered a limp handshake. “You can call me Misty. Everyone does. I'm not sure why Kevin always gives my middle name when we meet people.” She smiled at Claudia, and her smile broadened when she looked at Kyle.

“I'm glad to meet you,” Kyle said, while Claudia smiled and nodded. Misty sounded like Betty Boop with a strong Boston accent, and Claudia had to work hard not to giggle.

“So, what do you say we eat and then head out to look at the leaves?” Kyle asked. “You have to place your order at the counter here, but they'll bring it to your table when it's ready.”

“This is a nice little place,” Kevin said, looking around after they all sat down. “Smells great, too.”

Claudia followed Kevin's gaze and saw that Rose had appeared behind the counter and was chatting with Ruth. Misty didn't say anything in response to Kevin's comment about the bakery. She only sniffed and crossed her arms with a doubtful look on her face.

“That's right, the bakery had closed for the day the last time you came down,” Kyle said. “Well, Mill River doesn't have Boston's restaurant selection, but Ruth—that's the owner of this place, Ruth Fitzgerald—she could definitely hold her own there. She makes the best pie you'll ever have, hands down.”

“It's
really
good,” Rowen chimed in. The toothy smile on the little girl's face was so enthusiastic that they all had to laugh.

“I believe you,” Kevin said. “Remember when I slept on your couch the last time I visited? Around five or six in the morning, I woke up smelling sweets. God, I don't know how you stand that. If I lived in that apartment with the pie smell coming up through the floor, I'd be drooling instead of sleeping.”

“You'd be drooling and
eating
,” Misty said.

“Probably,” Kevin said with a laugh, but Claudia was surprised at the tone of Misty's comment, which seemed to carry an undercurrent of mild disgust. She was even more surprised to see Misty smiling at Kyle again.

“We're pretty used to the smell,” Kyle said with a chuckle. “But Rowen and I are going to move in with Claudia once we're married, at least until we can find a bigger place, so there'll be no more bakery-scented dreams for us after that.”

“Hey, Uncle Kevin, do you want to come see my Halloween costume?” Rowen asked. “It's upstairs in my room.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to be this year?”

“I'm not going to tell you, but I'll give you a hint. It's got something to do with the bakery. Dad's been helping me with it.”

“The idea was all hers,” Kyle said with a proud look at his daughter. “It's original, if I do say so myself.”

“All right, you got me,” Kevin said. “Let's just put our order in, and then I'll come up with you and your dad, how's that? It'll give Misty and Claudia some time for girl talk.”

In a few minutes, after Kyle had given their order to Ruth at the counter, Claudia found herself alone with Misty.

“So, Rowen's going to be a donut for Halloween,” she said. “Or rather, a donut hole. She's got an inner tube that she's painted to look like a donut, and she's going to rig up straps so she can stand in the middle of it while she walks around trick-or-treating.”

“Ah. That's cute,” Misty said. Kevin's girlfriend smiled but did not continue the conversation, so Claudia tried again.

“So, Misty, what do you do? For work, I mean?”

“I'm a receptionist at a nail salon,” Misty replied. She held out a hand and wiggled her long, fake, perfectly manicured nails. “They give me discounts, which is cool, but I'm thinking about looking for something better. You know, something not as boring, with better pay. What do you do?”

“I teach fourth grade.”

Misty snorted. “That's a tough job for the money. I don't know how people can stand to be teachers these days. I could never deal with a bunch of bratty kids.”

“The salary leaves something to be desired,” Claudia admitted, “and I'm not wild about all the standardized testing we do, but my kids are great. They're bright and pretty well behaved. I like seeing them learn and grow. Most days I really enjoy my job.”

“That's good,” Misty said. “So, I've been wondering…” She leaned across the table, and the scent of her strong perfume became even more noticeable. “Where did Kyle pick you up?”

“We actually met at my school,” Claudia said. She was slightly taken aback by Misty's phrasing of the question. Being “picked up” was something that happened in the dark recesses of bars or clubs, something that preceded a cheap one-night stand. “Kyle came over to teach my class about being a police officer last year. We talked a little afterward, and you know, one thing led to another. How did you meet Kevin?”

Misty flipped her long hair forward over one shoulder, causing an intense wave of her perfume to hit Claudia. “I was looking to change my car insurance. Kevin was the guy who helped me when I stopped by the insurance office, and we started talking. He ended up asking me out.” She shrugged. Boredom passed over her face as she pulled her phone from her purse and began texting.

Claudia began to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had envisioned, even anticipated, a happy meeting with Misty where they would discover that they had mutual interests and personalities that clicked. Kevin's girlfriend, however, was turning out to be something entirely unexpected, and not in a good way. There was an awkward pause before Claudia blurted out the only thing she could think of to fill the silence.

“What kind of perfume are you wearing, by the way? I don't think I've ever smelled it before.”

“It's Rush, by
Gucci
,” Misty said in a nonchalant voice, but with plenty of emphasis on “Gucci
.
” She glanced up from her phone. “Kevin got it for me.”

“Ah. It's…nice. Very distinctive.”
Or at least it would be if she hadn't doused herself with it.

“That's exactly what I thought,” Misty said. “I like things like that—clothes and shoes and other designer stuff that not everybody has. Like this bag.” She put her phone back in her handbag, which had been resting on the seat of the empty chair beside her, and stroked her hand across the front of it like a model from
The Price Is Right
. “It's
Channel.
Isn't it amazing? It wasn't cheap, but it's definitely worth the money, I think.”

Although Claudia was tempted to correct Misty's pronunciation, she decided against it and simply smiled at the woman. “It's a very nice bag.”

Misty gave a half smile and refocused her attention on her phone.

Claudia's own purse was hanging on the back of her chair. It was a sensible black leather shoulder bag from JCPenney, and she loved it. Even if her salary had permitted her to spend exorbitant amounts on luxury goods, she couldn't have cared less about high-end labels. She liked things that were reasonably priced, practical, and well made. Misty's blatant brags and superficiality were really starting to annoy her.

“Here's the first part of your order,” a woman's voice said. Claudia looked up to see Rose standing beside the table, holding a tray of beverages. “I'll be just another second on the sandwiches.” Before she had a chance to say hello, Rose was heading back toward the counter, so Claudia busied herself by removing the mugs and glasses from the tray and distributing them to their proper places on the table. The clicking of heels alerted her to Rose's return. Strangely, there was a slight smirk on the elder DiSanti sister's face.

Rose lowered the second tray. After she transferred the plates of sandwiches to the appropriate place settings, she stacked it inside the empty beverage tray. Rather than returning to the kitchen, though, she lingered beside their table, squinting down at Misty's purse. “That's quite a handbag you have there,” Rose said, her voice rich with admiration.

Misty looked up from her texting, her smile smug and wide. “Thank you. I just got it.”

Rose nodded and took a step closer. “May I?” she asked, holding out a hand, and Misty passed the purse to her. “Beautiful. This is one of the nicest
Chanel
knockoffs I've ever seen.”

Claudia straightened up in her chair. Rose maintained an innocent expression, despite her heavy emphasis on “Chanel.” Misty was staring up at Rose with her mouth slightly agape.

Even though Misty seemed to have been rendered speechless, Rose didn't give her a chance to say anything. Instead, she pointed with one of her own perfectly manicured nails at the front of the handbag. “The stitch count here isn't too far below what a genuine bag would have, and there are only a few places where the diamonds in the quilted pattern are stitched unevenly. The logo around the lock looks almost perfect, too—they just reversed the way the C's are supposed to overlap. But other than those few things, no one would ever know. Knockoffs are totally the way to go, if you ask me. Who can afford a real
Chanel
bag in this economy? They're thousands of dollars.” She handed the purse back to Misty and picked up the empty trays. “Anyway, I hope you ladies enjoy your lunch.” Rose turned on her heel and walked back toward the counter.

Misty's face turned a bright scarlet, and she stared down at her handbag before resting it again on the empty chair.

Claudia turned to look over her shoulder at Rose. From behind the counter, Rose caught her eye and winked. Claudia bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief when Kyle, Rowen, and Kevin returned to the table a few moments later.

“So, did you two have a nice chat?” Kevin asked, the hope plain on his face.

“Oh, yeah,” Misty said flatly.

“We did,” Claudia agreed. She smiled sweetly at her future brother-in-law, but inside, she felt only pity. He obviously hadn't realized it yet, but Kevin was dating another loser.

As Claudia finished her lunch at the bakery, Karen Cooper made her way down the street to Turner's Hardware. Ben was at the middle school attending a weekend basketball clinic, and a Saturday afternoon alone stretched far before her. As she put one foot in front of the other, Karen alternatively got lost in her thoughts and then snapped back to reality. Her reason for visiting the hardware store was irrational, she knew, and she kept pushing it to the back of her mind before it would slowly but surely make its way back to the center of her thoughts.

Since the discovery of Nick's abandoned Jeep, there had been no information on his whereabouts or the search for him. A representative from the personnel department in his company had told her that because Nick's disappearance had been formally declared an abduction, his salary would continue to be direct-deposited into their joint account for the time being. It was but a small comfort.

“How long will that happen?” she had asked the stranger on the phone.

“I'm not sure, ma'am,” the man had replied. “It all depends on how long until he's found. In other cases, salary and benefits have been paid for a full year after a person has gone missing.”

Other cases?
she thought.
There have been other cases? How many other cases?

“And then what? What if the person hasn't been found by then?”

The man on the phone had cleared his throat. “Well, usually by that time, other determinations and declarations have been made, for insurance purposes and whatnot, so the salary is discontinued. But ma'am, it's very early to be thinking about that right now. Our focus is currently on finding your husband.”

Though she and Ben relied on Nick's salary to pay most of their bills, she would have traded every cent of it to have him home and safe. What would she do in a year if Nick were still missing? She was having trouble making it through the days already.

Karen took a deep breath to steady herself as she entered the hardware store. Emily was behind the counter, leaning on her elbows as she read a handwritten letter of some kind. “Hey, Karen,” she said. “How are you?”

Karen forced a smile. She knew that what most people really wanted to hear when they asked her that question—if they were aware of Nick's disappearance—was whether she'd received any news about her husband. “I'm doing all right, I guess. As best as I can, under the circumstances.”

Emily nodded. “I've thought a lot about you since you were last here. Have you heard anything more? About Nick, I mean?”

“No, not yet, anyway.”

“Oh. Well, I know you'll get some good news soon. But what brings you by today? Are you after more lightbulbs?”

“Um, no. This time, I need duct tape.”