A Stillness of Chimes (22 page)

She looked up and smiled. “Hey, Laura.”

“Hi, Annie. You don’t have the boys with you today?”

“No, they’re home with Keith. Running him ragged, no doubt.”

“I can only imagine.” A twinge of envy stabbed Laura. If she’d married Sean, those three little boys with blazing blue eyes would have been her nephews, and her children would have had cousins. With Dale as their grandfather.

“How in the world do you handle having Dale as your father-in-law?” Laura blurted.

Annie’s eyes widened. “That’s an interesting question.”

“Don’t read anything into it,” Laura added hastily, her cheeks heating.

“Oh, of course not.” She leaned on her shopping cart. “Well, we avoid him as much as we can. Keith has ordered him to stay off our property.”

“I wonder why Sean doesn’t lay down some rules like that.”

“I asked him once, and he said something about being merciful. He’s too tender-hearted for his own good.” Annie paused. “I think Sean still manages to love Dale just a little, in spite of everything.”

Laura nodded. Stalling until she had control of herself, she picked up a tomato. Not ripe. Not even close. She put it back. “I hate store-bought tomatoes.”

“Wait a couple of months, and I can bring you plenty from our garden. If you’ll still be in town.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be here that long, but thanks.”

“Sean will be sorry to see you go. He stopped by a few nights ago. Didn’t stay long, but your name came up.” Annie smiled. “Matter of fact, he said you’re impossible.”

Laura winced, wondering which tiff he’d meant. “I probably deserved it.”

“No, I think he was using you as a scapegoat when he’s really tied up in knots about the other thing.”

“Other thing?”

“The … I don’t know. I’ve always hoped y’all would get back together, and I thought that’s what he and Keith were talking about, out on the porch, so I … listened in.” Annie made a face.

“But that wasn’t what they were talking about?”

“No. Sean was talking about a drowning he saw a long time ago. I only heard part of it, and Keith wouldn’t tell me later. Sean never mentioned anything like that?”

“Never. He wasn’t talking about my dad, was he? Sean wasn’t anywhere near the lake that day—unless I’m remembering everything wrong.”

Annie had become intensely interested in selecting a green pepper. “You should ask him.” She dropped a pepper into a bag. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

“I’m still sorry. Well, I need to get home. Bye, Laura.” Annie pushed her cart around the corner.

Before she could lose her nerve, Laura dug her phone out of her pocket and punched Sean’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Laura,” he said in a cautious tone. “What’s up?”

“Explain this business about seeing a drowning years ago. Please?”

He was silent for a moment. “Where did you get this information?”

He’d called it information. Not gossip.

“From Annie,” she said.

He grumbled something unintelligible.

“What’s it all about, Sean? Who drowned?”

“I don’t know. Nobody, probably. It was sort of a figurative drowning. Don’t worry about it. I have the neck of a mandolin half-glued. Gotta go. Bye.”

“Wait. Don’t hang up on me. I—I’m supposed to tell you about the party.”

There was a long silence.

“Party,” he said, finally. “What party?”

“Trevor’s birthday party. His fifth. Tonight at six. Sorry it’s so last minute. We’re both invited. It’ll be at Gary and Ardelle’s house. I was supposed to ask you earlier, but—”

“But you didn’t want to—until now, when you want another chance to interrogate me.” Sean laughed softly. “I’m up to it. I’ll pick you up a little before six.”

And then he did hang up on her.

Waiting for Laura to come outside, Sean leaned against the porch pillar and looked across the road to the church’s picnic pavilion where he’d carved their initials into a table on a winter evening. He’d kept coaxing her into deeper, longer kisses too. Make a cut, stop for a kiss. Make a cut, stop for three or four or five kisses. Night had fallen fast, the way it did in December, and the lights had come on in the little bungalow, reminding him of her dad’s unpredictable temper.

He gave the pillar a pat. It was solid, like the whole house, and alive in
a way that brick could never be alive. Wood could breathe. It had some give to it.

He especially liked a frame house with a wraparound porch. Or any house that had Laura in it—and that didn’t hold echoes of Dale’s rages.

The doorknob rattled. Laura stepped outside in a blue shirt and jeans. Holding a large, square package wrapped in garish dinosaur paper and topped with multicolored ribbons, she looked as fragile as the wrappings.

“I’m sorry I hung up on you,” he said. “You’re beautiful,” he added unwisely.

Fragile or not, she glared at him in a way that made him think he was staring straight into a double-barreled shotgun. Loaded, cocked, and aimed. That was the Laura he remembered.

Fighting a smile, he lifted his hands in surrender. “I take it back. You’re downright homely. Feel better now?”

She placed the gift in his upraised hands. “Hold this, please.” She locked up, dumped her keys in her purse, and frowned toward the road. “Mikey escaped again. He’s out there somewhere.”

Laura was like Jess. Whenever brakes squealed on the road, Jess had dropped whatever she was doing to count feline noses.

“He’ll be fine,” Sean said. “He always is. How much do I owe you on the gift?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Laura hurried down the steps.

“No, I’m splitting it with you.” He chased her onto the driveway. “What is it?”

She went for the passenger door, opened it before he could, and climbed in. “A big remote-control truck. A red one.”

“I’m glad you like red trucks.” He closed the glossy red door and went around to his side. “You sure about going to the party?” he asked, setting the gift between them on the seat. “It’s not too late to call and cancel.”

“Out of the question. But I should give you fair warning. Don’t be surprised if you see some OCD behavior from Ardelle.”

“I know. Cassie told me. You think there’s any truth to it?”

“Probably.” She nailed him with that look again. “Now, back to this drowning that you’re so determined not to talk about. Does it have anything to do with my dad?”

“It wasn’t even the same year as your dad’s drowning.” Maybe that would satisfy her curiosity.

He fired up the truck and tried to kill his thoughts in the noise of the engine, but he only heard that ugly
drowning
word reverberating in his brain. Stalling for time, he pulled the truck onto the road and hit the gas.

A gray blur flashed onto the road—a cat? Mikey—

He pulled the truck hard to the left, brakes screaming. He checked his mirror, afraid he’d see Mikey, but a squirrel scampered into the roadside weeds.

“Whew,” he said. “It was only a squirrel. And I missed it.”

Laura twisted her whole body to peer through the rear window. “Are you sure it wasn’t Mikey?”

“I’m sure. I saw it.”

She settled into her seat again. “I don’t know if I could stand to lose Mikey too.” Her voice faltered.

But the cat was old. Even if she kept him out of harm’s way, he couldn’t have more than a few years left. Not wanting to say it, Sean took her hand. She didn’t resist.

Neither of them spoke in the ten minutes it took to reach the Brights’ new place, high on a hill outside town. It was quite the spread, a sprawling, cedar-sided ranch-style home with an in-ground pool behind a privacy fence. They had a spectacular view of Prospect spread out below.

When Sean opened Laura’s door—with difficulty, because the latch decided to stick again—she handed him the gift. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He’d known her since kindergarten. He recognized the signs that she needed to cry. And between losing her mom and hearing the rumors about her dad—and half believing he hadn’t loved her—she had plenty to cry about.

He placed the gift on the roof of the truck. “Come here, Laura.”

She shook her head.

“Don’t be that way,” he said. “I’m a friend. Friends give friends hugs.”

“It’s awkward.”

“So? Deal with it.”

He opened his arms, fully expecting her to walk right past him, but she stepped close and leaned against him. Shielded from the Brights’ windows by a row of shrubs, he held her and stroked her hair. She still wasn’t crying. Not around him.

“Let’s skip the party,” he said. “They’ll understand.”

She shook her head against his chest. “Trevor wouldn’t.”

“He’s only turning five. He’ll hardly notice who shows up and who doesn’t.”

“Trevor? Ha! He notices everything. I remember that from my last trip home. Anyway, we’re here. We’re going in.”

He tried to nudge her back into the truck. “No. I’ll call and explain. You aren’t up to it.”

“I’m up to it. I want to see Trevor’s face when he sees that big ol’ truck. He’ll be so happy.”

Laura had always wanted everybody safe and happy.

“I love you,” Sean mouthed silently into her hair. He kissed the top of her head so lightly that she couldn’t have felt it.

Or maybe he hadn’t made it quite light enough, because her head jerked up, smacking his chin. She escaped his arms, grabbed the gift, and hustled around the bed of the truck and through the front yard. Sean followed. Gary welcomed them at the front door. Always the genial host, he gave Laura a fatherly hug, then gave Sean a cross between a hug and a bout of back-slapping.

“Any more thoughts about the house?” Gary asked after Laura had disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Sean nodded. “Once we’re on the other side of Memorial weekend, I’ll hurry up and finish the renovations.” Except then he’d have more orders for instruments. Less time for the house.

“Good decision. I’m glad to hear it.” Gary lowered his voice. “How’s Laura doing?”

“Pretty well, considering she lost her mom recently.”

“Why do people have to die?” Gary asked under his breath.

Because the world would get a little crowded if they didn’t
. Sean bit back the wisecrack in the nick of time.

He walked into the kitchen in time to see Trevor accost Laura. “Hey, Aunt Laura,” he said, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “Did you bring me something?”

Her face lit with a big grin. “I sure did, sweetie. Your mom can tell you
when it’s time to open it, okay? It’s from Uncle Sean too.” She set the birthday present on the table and knelt for a hug. It was complicated a bit by the way Trevor tried to see around her to check out the gift.

Sean smiled, pleased with his unofficial title. Neither of them was related to the Brights, but it did feel like family. Him and Laura. Gary and Ardelle. Cassie. Tom and Tig and Trevor.

He made the rounds to shake hands or hug people, as appropriate. Even the cat, that prissy, expensive parasite, welcomed him by jumping into his lap the moment he took a seat at the kitchen table. Arabella smelled like herbal shampoo, but she purred and shed fur like any ordinary cat.

Somebody had put bluegrass on the stereo—not Elliott’s CD, but one of Gibby’s. The ritzy home buzzed with music and laughter. Gary and Ardelle might have moved up in the world, but they hadn’t forgotten how to let their hair down and have fun. Sean’s heart wasn’t in it, though.

When everybody else went out to the patio to harass Gary about how to cook the steaks, Sean retreated to the living room. The cat followed and claimed his lap again.

He closed his eyes. He heard Cassie coming in, shouting something to somebody. Her flip-flops slapped their way across the kitchen. The sound softened as they hit the carpet, and finally stopped in front of him.

He opened his eyes. She stood there, squinting at him.

“What’s your problem?” she asked.

“Is it obvious?”

“Yes.” She knelt beside his chair and roughed up the cat’s fur. Arabella twitched but went on purring.

“I hate birthdays,” Sean said.

“Oh, I know. Elliott picked a bad week to drown.”

“Yeah, that’s part of it. And there’s the other.”

Cassie frowned at him. “Other?”

“You know. Laura and me. She must have told you.”

“Told me what? Darn it, Halloran, this sounds juicy. Out with it.”

Knowing she wouldn’t give up until he’d confessed, he let out a sigh and checked to make sure nobody was within earshot. “Okay. The day I turned eighteen, I thought I was all grown up. An adult. And Laura looked so lost—it was less than a week since Elliott drowned—” Sean stopped, remembering the blank look in her eyes, as if she’d just peered over the edge of the world into the abyss. Marriage had seemed like powerful magic to shield her from more heartache.

“Go on,” Cassie said.

“I asked her to marry me.”

Cassie’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“She never told you? Her best friend?”

Cassie shook her head, obviously enthralled. “Well, what happened?”

“She said we were too young to be thinking about marriage. Next thing I knew, she’d changed her college plans. Instead of going to UGA, she went to Colorado. Like she wanted to put some distance between us.”