One hour
later I checked the last card in the pile and studied the sheet. One line
remained blank but today’s mail hadn’t arrived.
A long sigh
escaped. The finished chore called for a reward. With a stretch to relieve
stiff bones, I strode to the kitchen to brew a pot of mint tea and to defrost a
brownie from the freezer. The cat abandoned his battle and padded after me.
While the water heated, I pulled my favorite teapot from a shelf. It was a
duplicate of the one Brenda had refused to sell. I smiled.
Some days I
felt as though I was the woman climbing from hot water. Though I dearly love
Lars, I wished he’d agreed to elope. Instead I was stuck with a summer wedding
and two receptions, the first at the church and the other at Cedar Inn. At
least he’d agreed to a list of local charities instead of gifts we would never
use.
The kettle
whistled. After warming the teapot, I hung a stuffed tea ball on the rim and
poured. A cloud of aromatic steam brought a moment of relaxation. With a filled
mug and a brownie on a plate, I walked to the living room. Robespierre abandoned
his food and followed.
While sipping
tea and eating the chocolate treat, I sat on the window seat and stared
outside. When I converted the house to apartments I’d chosen the second floor.
When the trees lose their leaves I have a great view of the Hudson
River . A nice treat in winter during the days when a walk was
impossible. The cat curled beside me. His rumbling purrs set me into dreams of
the coming day.
Nearly thirty
years of being a widow have given me a sense of independence. Lars has been a
widower for twenty years. My husband and I had been friends with Lars and his
wife. Those bonds of friendship hadn’t been broken by death. This winter’s
events in Santa Fe
Was I sorry
Bonnie had been killed? My sorrow was for Lars’ pain. His only daughter had
been responsible for the death of his daughter-in-law and for trying to steal
his investment company and turn it into the kind that buys and ruins businesses
for profit instead of lending a hand. Years ago, as a teenager, Bonnie’s
tantrums had ruined Lars and my chance of a wedding.
My thoughts
shifted to the coming day. Suit and shoes were in the closet. Hair appointment
to keep my tresses the auburn of my youth had been made. All was set, even our
honeymoon plans.
Plans change again
Edward
stepped from the podium and clasped our hands. “I present you Katherine and
Lars Claybourne.”
The
recessional began. Instead of walking down the aisle, Lars and I led the way to
Fellowship Hall where the Women’s Guild had prepared the first reception. Wine,
iced tea and coffee and fruit punch were served along with finger sandwiches
and other appetizers. Two five tier cakes stood on a table, one iced with white
and the other one of my chocolate cakes. Lars and I stood at the door to greet
the guests and hear good wishes.
As the line
grew shorter, I realized Joyce hadn’t arrived. Worry stuttered through my
thoughts. What had happened? Traffic. Construction. An accident. Illness.
Brenda.
Lars clasped
my hand and startled me. My fears for my friend remained strong.
“What’s
wrong?” he asked.
“Joyce didn’t
come.”
“I’m sure she
left a message for you. We’ll learn when we go for your luggage. It’s time to
taste the food and cut the cakes. On our way to Montreal , we’ll stop at her house.”
His belief in
a logical explanation brought a moment of relief. We reached the buffet table where
Lars filled two plates with an assortment of tidbits. I tasted a slice of brie
topped with sliced strawberries and put the plate down. Though I’m sure the
food was delicious, concern for my friend killed my appetite.
When Lars
finished sampling every offering, we cut the cakes and fed each other a small
piece. A flawless tasting. Both cakes were terrific. Two of the Guild women cut
the bottom layers cakes into slices for the multitude of guests. The two middle
tiers would be taken to the restaurant for the second reception. The top ones
would be boxed for Lars and me.
Edward
strolled toward us. “Katherine, Lars, what a fabulous celebration. The cakes
are fabulous but of course I’m partial to the fabulous chocolate confection.
Did you make both?”
“Just the
chocolate.” My smile threatened to morph into giggles. Fabulous must be his
word of the day.
“Lars, a word
in private. I’ve had a fabulous idea.”
Before I
could protest he drew Lars away. Moments later two of the Elders joined them.
The four walked toward the door leading to the garden.
Not today. I needed Lars’ phone to make
a call. I was convinced Joyce was in trouble. Since the incident in Santa Fe he kept his cell
phone in his pocket. Mine was at the apartment. This suit had no pockets and my
purse was at home.
Following to
snatch Lars from his kidnappers proved impossible. Every time someone stopped
me to gush congratulations, my stomach tightened. I thought about being rude
but we were in church and today was meant to be a joyous occasion.
I noticed
Sarah’s foster son near the stage. He held a rectangular object in one hand.
His fingers moved so fast they blurred. Texting, I hoped. I hurried toward him.
He held a phone.
"Jamal,
could I use your phone? There’s a call I must make.”
What will the call reveal?
