A Gala Event (23 page)

“Hi, Meg,” Chloe said. “Can we go to the hospital to see her?”

“Let's wait until your dad calls us. I don't know how
many people they let in, or what age visitors. Either of you have a key to your house?”

Matthew and Chloe shook their heads.

“Okay, you can come over to my house, and we'll wait there together.”

The two children followed her obediently back to the car. Conversation on the way back was strained, and Meg realized how rarely she talked to children. She had no idea what they were doing in school or what their interests outside of school might be. “Do you have any pets?” she ventured out of desperation.

Matthew finally spoke. “Nah. When the B and B is open, Mom worries about the guests and allergies.”

“Well, I've got a dog and a cat, and a couple of goats. And there's a new herd of alpacas in the neighborhood.”

“What's an alpaca?” Matthew asked. Describing those animals took the entire ride back to Meg's place. When she arrived, there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway.

Bree came out to greet her. “Hi, kids,” she said brightly, and then in a quieter voice she added, “No word from Rachel?” Meg shook her head. Bree turned back to the children. “You want to come up and help me pick the last apples?”

“Can we, Meg?” Chloe turned to her to ask, actually looking excited.

“Sure. You can take some home if you want,” Meg told them. Then she asked Bree, “What's with the car?”

“Kevin Eastman is in the kitchen.” Bree stepped back. “Come on, kids—let's go up the hill.”

As the trio made their way up the hill, Meg checked her phone for messages: there were none. Might as well go meet the third Eastman sibling—and hope Seth arrived home soon.

Meg squared her shoulders and headed for the back door. She'd met two of the siblings, and they had proven to be very different from each other. What would the third one be like?

Kevin Eastman was seated at the kitchen table, but sprang to his feet when Meg entered the room. “Hi, I'm Kevin. You must be Meg.” He came quickly around the table and offered his hand.

“Yes. Meg Corey, and this is my house. You made good time. How did you find me, once you got to Granford?”

“The chief of police—Preston, was it?—said I'd find you here, and you could tell me where to find Aaron.”

“Aaron's nearby, but he doesn't have a phone or a car, so it takes some explaining.”

Kevin looked more like Aaron than his sister did. Oddly, he, like Aaron, looked older than his years. He was tall and thin, dressed in nondescript clothes, not particularly new
but not obviously shabby. His hair was neatly cut. Mostly he looked worried, and based on the deep creases on his face, that was probably a chronic expression.

“Did Art Preston mention that your sister is here, too?” Meg asked.

“What?” Kevin looked stunned at that news. “I had no idea where to find her. Is she still living in Vermont?”

“I think so. So you don't keep in touch? Didn't Aaron contact you? Because he did send Lori a letter saying he was being released.” Meg realized suddenly that they were still standing, on opposite sides of the table. “I'm so sorry—I'm being a lousy hostess. Please sit down. Can I offer you something to drink? You must have left early to catch a plane to arrive here by midafternoon.”

“Water's fine. Or coffee, if you have it. I didn't mind; I didn't want to waste the time it would take to drive.”

“Coffee it is.” Meg started her hot pot to boiling. “Normally I'm a little more organized, but my soon-to-be sister-in-law went into labor this morning, and I had to pick up her kids. They're up in the orchard now, but they'll probably descend on us here as soon as they get bored, and there won't be much chance to talk. Do you have children, Kevin?”

He was quick to answer. “No, I've never been married, and I guess it's getting kind of late for that now. I think about adopting now and then: there are so many needy kids.”

“Never say never,” Meg said, pouring water over coffee grounds. She wondered if it would be rude to ask if he was in a relationship with anyone, but it really was none of her business. “I might as well go ahead and explain how I came to know Aaron, and we all had dinner together here last night, so I've learned a lot of your family's details in a short time.” Once again Meg outlined Aaron's arrival, Gail's overreaction, and Meg's role in tracking Aaron down.

When she had finished, Kevin said, “Lucky guy, I guess. Or maybe he doesn't think so. Did he tell you why he came here, to Granford?”

Meg filled two mugs with coffee, set one in front of Kevin, then sat down with her own across the table from him. “I should let him explain that. We could go look for him now, but I'm responsible for the kids and I can't just dump them on Bree.”

“That was the young woman who let me in?”

“Yes. She's my orchard manager, and she shares this house with me. I told her you might arrive today.”

“I've read about the itinerant Jamaican pickers around here—I take it she's Jamaican?”

Meg nodded. “Yes, but American-born. Her parents were pickers, but she lived mainly with an aunt here so she could go to school. She graduated from UMass not long ago.”

“Good, good,” Kevin said almost absently.

“My fiancé should be back soon, and maybe the two of you can go find Lori and Aaron. Lori's staying at Seth's house, and Aaron is staying temporarily at a nearby farm. Seth's house is actually next door, but you can't even see it from here. Do you remember much about Granford?”

“Some,” Kevin admitted. “Although I haven't been back for years. I took some time off after I graduated, just to come to terms with . . . the fire and the deaths. I worked odd jobs around here, wherever I could find anything. Let me tell you, the whole thing really hit me hard. And I have to say, Lori and I dealt with it in our own ways. Lori kind of dropped out, while I decided I should dig in and address the problems—like drugs—that can lead to such tragedies. That's why I went into social work.”

“Are you a city employee?” Meg asked, curious.

“Yes, although that's not easy these days, in Chicago. Of
course, there's never enough money to do half of what we'd like, but we keep trying. There are a lot of good people who care about kids in difficult situations.”

“Why Chicago, rather than Boston?”

Kevin shrugged. “I thought I could be more objective about a city I didn't know. Not that I knew Boston well, but I knew ‘of' it, so to speak. I wanted to start over, someplace fresh.”

“Did you ever visit Aaron? Write to him?”

“No. I can't say I'm proud of that, but I couldn't believe what had happened. Mom and Dad dead, and Aaron didn't have a scratch on him? That didn't seem right.”

Kevin was not the first person to express that opinion, no matter what the underlying reality was. Poor Aaron had been damned because he wasn't hurt? Meg tried to wrap her head around the image of a stoned Aaron sitting on the lawn and watching the house burn, with his family inside. And then passing out? Maybe he'd kept taking drugs while he watched. Had any been found on him? She'd have to check the police report—surely they would have noted that. Had they tested his blood for drugs?

“Meg?” Kevin's voice broke into her thoughts.

Meg snapped back to attention. “Oh, sorry . . . My mind was wandering. I'm worried about Rachel—that's Seth's sister. She went into the hospital this morning, and we haven't heard anything since. I don't mind keeping the kids, but I need to know what to tell them.”

“You said Rachel is your fiancé's sister?” Kevin asked. He almost looked as though he cared about the connections between total strangers. “Older or younger?”

“Yes. Younger sister. Their mother lives right over the hill, next to Seth. This house and their two were all built before 1800.”

“But you haven't lived here long?”

Meg smiled. “Does it show? Let's put it this way: my family built this house a long time ago, but the last descendant to live in it died over twenty years ago. After that it was a rental; my mother inherited it, but she almost never saw the place. Then I lost my job in Boston, and she thought this would be good . . . therapy, I guess. Working with my hands. And that was before we knew about the orchard. I'm guessing she didn't expect me to stay, but here I am, and Seth and I are getting married in a couple of weeks.”

“Are both your parents still alive? And Seth's?”

“Mine are. Seth's father died a few years ago, and he took over the family business—that, you might remember from your time in Granford, if your folks ever had any plumbing done on the house.”

Kevin shrugged. “I wouldn't know. Kids don't pay too much attention to stuff like that.”

Meg was scrambling for a new topic of conversation when Bree and the children banged their way into the kitchen, followed closely by Seth. Meg felt a surge of relief. She silently mouthed,
Rachel?
to Seth, who shook his head. So no news yet, good or bad?

The children were lugging small baskets of apples. “Look what we collected, Meg!” Chloe said triumphantly. “Are we staying for dinner? Can we make something with them?”

“Let me talk to your uncle Seth a sec, okay?” Meg said.

“I don't want to cook,” Matthew said.

Why is the kitchen suddenly so crowded?
Meg wondered.

“I've got some stuff to do upstairs,” Bree announced. “They're all yours now.”

“Okay, got it.” First things first. “Seth, this is Kevin Eastman, as you might have guessed already. Kevin, this is my fiancé, Seth Chapin.”

“‘Fiancé' is a silly word,” Chloe announced. “I mean,
why does it have to be French? Aren't there any English words?”

“Honestly, I don't know,” Meg told her. “What would you like to use? ‘Husband-to-be'? That's kind of long and clunky. ‘Future partner'? Too vague. ‘Engagee'? That sounds almost as bad as ‘fiancé.' Why don't you work on it?”

“I'll think about it. How's Mom?”

“I don't know, sweetie . . . I haven't heard from her or your dad.”

Chloe accepted that statement without comment. Meg worried that she was old enough to know something about the problems of having a baby, although there were far fewer now than there would have been a century or two earlier. How many babies had been birthed in this very house?

“Seth, do you know where Aaron and Lori are at the moment? And if they're together? I'm sure Kevin would like to see them.”

“I haven't seen either of them since last night,” Seth said. “I dropped Lori off at the house. Kevin, Aaron doesn't have a phone, and I don't have Lori's cell number. Want to go hunting for them?”

Kevin stood up. “Sure. It'll feel good to stretch my legs.”

“Why don't you bring everyone back here for dinner?” Even as she said it, Meg was wondering what the heck to feed eight people, two of them children, but she could figure something out. Maybe having to be polite in front of the children would keep Kevin, Lori, and Aaron civil, at least for a while. Although Aaron and Lori seemed to have done well the night before, Kevin was a wild card.

“Good idea,” Seth said, obviously relieved at having a solution presented to him. “Matthew, can you take care of Max while I'm gone? He could use some exercise. If you
take him for a walk, maybe afterward Meg could show you how to feed the goats.”

“Cool,” Matthew said.

“And Meg and I will make dinner,” Chloe announced. “With apples.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Seth said, smiling. “Kevin, you ready to go?”

“Quick pit stop first, if you don't mind,” Kevin said.

“Upstairs,” Seth replied. He turned to Matthew. “I'll get you Max's leash, but he knows you, so he won't run too far. Can you handle him?”

Matthew stood up a little straighter. “Sure, no problem.”

Meg turned to Chloe. “So, what kind of apple dishes do you like? Pie? Cake? Baked apples?”

“Can we make one of those ones with a weird name? Like grunt or slump? Mom makes those for guests sometimes, and they laugh.”

“Of course. Ever since I found out I have an orchard, I've been collecting apple recipes. I'm sure we can find something. You know how to peel apples? With a peeler, I mean?” Meg had a quick vision of turning Chloe loose with a sharp knife—no, not going to happen.

“Sure.”

“Then why don't you wash the ones you picked today, and choose the best ones, and start peeling?”

Chloe complied. Matthew was kneeling next to Max, getting reacquainted. Meg approached Seth and said quietly, “Should we be worried?”

“I can't say. Mom should be home from work soon. Rachel told her she didn't need her there, that Noah was enough of a crowd. Maybe she'll call, or you can try her in a bit. You sure you're okay with feeding the crowd?”

“I'm hoping there's something lurking in the freezer that I can expand. Like maybe last Thanksgiving's turkey leftovers, or some of the Christmas ham. We'll manage. At least we'll have dessert!” She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. The children ignored them.

Seth and Kevin had been gone for no more than fifteen minutes when Lydia appeared at the back door. She greeted her granddaughter warmly. Not surprisingly, Chloe's first question was, “How's Mom?”

“I haven't heard any news yet, but I'm sure everything is fine,” Lydia told her. “Meg, I passed Matthew and Max on my way over—they were playing a very energetic game of fetch. Matthew said the girls were ‘cooking—ick.' That's a quote.”

“Chloe and I are making dessert. You want to join us for dinner? I warn you, we may have the whole Eastman family here. Or none of them. Seth took the older brother, Kevin, who showed up this afternoon, to look for the others, and I haven't heard whether he found one or both of them. I'm just going to make a big batch of something and hope for the best.”

“Can I help?”

“Go explore the freezer and see what you can find.”

Matthew and Max came tumbling in not long after, and Meg listened with a smile as he recounted Max's antics to his grandmother. He and Lydia fed Max; Lolly, who disliked crowds, was hiding somewhere else in the house and would eat later when the chaos subsided. Then Lydia found a couple of packages of mystery meat in the freezer, and she and Meg improvised a huge casserole. Chloe tasted along the way and made suggestions. The slump or grunt came out of the oven after an hour's cooking time, and Meg slid in the casserole and shut the oven door.