Part 4 (1/2)
When my mother pa.s.sed away, Dad and Aunt Fee had nothing more to say to each other that didn't involve us kids, especially me. Aunt Fiona had taught me the love of sewing, fas.h.i.+ons, and all things handmade. Still, she and my dad barely spoke for nineteen years.
Then I came home to Mystick Falls to help my sister Sherry prepare for her wedding, never expecting her to become the prime suspect in a murder. I'd stayed to help and reconnected with Aunt Fiona, which fanned her and Dad's a.s.sociation and my love of vintage clothing.
Dad resisted, but last fall, when Aunt Fiona got locked in a casket-story for another day-Dad became her knight in s.h.i.+ning armor, mostly because he mocked her, until he realized that the experience had scarred her.
Oh, Dad wouldn't acknowledge his knightly role, but he's there for her, even if it means that he sleeps on her sofa when she's freaked, or she sleeps in one of my siblings' old bedrooms, all empty except mine.
My sister Brandy's in the peace corps. Sherry lives nearby with her husband, Justin, which reminds me that I have a baby shower to plan for her. My brother, Alex, his wife Tricia, and toddler Kelsey, live near FBI headquarters in New Haven.
So if it wasn't for me living at Dad's, he and Aunt Fiona might get to be alone once in a while: my thought; probably not theirs. While this new ”arrangement” between them has caused a great deal of over-the-fence chatter in Mystick Falls, the subjects of said gossip are oblivious.
Nevertheless, my father is laughing again, Fee's eyes are brighter, and, yes, they argue all the time, but with the enthusiasm of a debate club going for the gold.
When my dad isn't teaching English Lit at UConn, Aunt Fiona listens to him quote the literary greats.
A lawyer, Aunt Fee recently caused a gossip-ripe incident of her own when she went into semiretirement. Oddly, she works the same days dad teaches.
I'm telling you right now, if they say they're taking a trip to the Finger Lakes wine country, I'm putting my foot down. I do not need a baby sibling named Merlot.
They didn't hear me pull up behind them. They didn't hear me call their names. I ran to catch up, surprised them, fell into step beside them, and gave them a peek into ”The Day That Weird Stood Still.”
Less than an hour later, packed and ready to go, Nick was waiting for me at the shop, talking to Werner, while Dad and Aunt Fiona weren't far behind me.
”Nick,” I said. ”New aftershave? Yum.”
”Emporio Armani Diamonds for men.”
”Wow,” I said. ”Diamonds everywhere today.”
”What does that mean?” Werner asked.
”Dominique collapsed performing Diamond Sands and singing 'Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend,' now her diamonds are missing, and here's Nick wearing the scent of diamonds. That's all I'm saying.”
”Oh.” Werner grabbed his coat.
I leaned into Nick's neck, closed my eyes, and inhaled. ”Mmm, Bergamot, vetiver, and . . . cedar, I think.” I opened my eyes, but my body was still on high alert. ”A lethal combination.”
”The better to please you with, my dear.”
Eve made a gagging sound and Werner nodded as if he agreed. ”Your dubious posers are gone,” he said, speaking of the Lady in Red and ski boy, and snapping me back to my surroundings. ”So I'll be on my way as well,” Werner added. ”Have a good trip.”
”Thanks for staying,” I said.
The frown lines on Werner's brow cleared. ”Anytime.”
The shop looked busy with normal tourists and locals. Yesterday, I had advertised my upcoming Valentine's Day intimate apparel sale and a special Men's Night, starting with hors d'oeuvres and manly thirst quenchers, previous to the arrival of several shapely friends who would model and describe the undies and peignoir sets, hopefully encouraging the men to purchase them as Valentine's Day gifts. This kind of event was big in New York, but here, I didn't know. I'd sent invites to upscale sports and country clubs to bring in the right buyers.
The sale is why most shoppers were cl.u.s.tered in the fas.h.i.+on nook called Corsets and Less, men and women alike checking out majorly s.e.xy chemises and s.h.i.+rts in cotton from the Loire River valley, designer labels in silk crepe and Charmeuse, items by Coc.o.o.n, silk trimmed with hand-painted blossoms, and vintage P.J. Flannigan.
I mentally rubbed my hands together at the upswing in business. Things had been quiet since Christmas, and I hated like h.e.l.l to leave after a successful ad, though today was only the first of the month.
”Don't worry,” Aunt Fiona said, accurately reading me. ”I can handle this.”
”We can handle this,” my dad said. ”You'll only be gone a few days.”
During this part of the trip, I thought. I hadn't told them about the fas.h.i.+on show to raise money for Dom's charities or the fact that I was executor of her will. I'd save those bombsh.e.l.ls until I read her instructions.
”Your dad and I will work on the details for Men's Night,” Aunt Fiona said. ”Give you a head start.”
”I'm coming to Men's Night,” Nick said.
Eve rolled her eyes. ”Perv. Let's go. I miss New York.”
”You're not coming on this trip,” Nick snapped.
”Maybe neither of us is.” Eve laughed.
I elbowed her. ”You don't even have a change of clothes.”
”Sure I do.” She indicated a rack of outfits. ”I shopped for dial-down-the-ruffles steampunk. You made one huge sale while you were gone-to me. Fee, did you bring the travel bag?”
Aunt Fiona gave Nick a shrug and went out to her trunk for an empty suitcase.
”Let's get your bags in my trunk,” my father told us while Eve finished packing her new wardrobe. ”I'll take the three of you to the train station.”
”Why are you coming with us, again?” Nick asked Eve.
”Mostly to be the burr beneath your saddle, boy toy. And I like New York.”
Eleven.
I love New York. But the energy is so intense.
-JOHN GALLIANO The train rolled into Penn Station around two o'clock, and as we walked toward the curb, Kyle DeLong stepped out of a metallic gold stretch Lamborghini limo. ”Mad, I'm so grateful that you could come,” he said, giving me an intense hug.
”This is some car,” I said, trying to stop welling up at the thought of my reason for being here. ”Was it your mother's?”
”No, this one belongs to Pierpont Diamond Mines. It's a loaner. Mom had a 1953 Bentley limo in two-tone silver. Not a stretch. I didn't have the heart to use it, not yet, anyway.”
I was grateful as I introduced him to Eve, and though I started to introduce Nick, Eve and Kyle were as be-dazzled as cartoon characters seeing each other for the first time. I half expected their eyes to pop out of their heads and meet in the middle. I could even hear a little cosmic ”Boing!”
Finally, they awoke to the world around them and I was able to introduce Nick, who seemed amused by what we'd just witnessed.
For a young man grieving over the unexpected and suspicious loss of his mother, Kyle became the mature embodiment of a charming host, his instant clutch crush on Eve notwithstanding.
”Where were we?” Kyle asked. ”Oh, Mom's vintage Bentley. That belongs to DeLong Limited, the parent company for her music, perfume, and accessories holdings.”