An Anniversary to Die For (3 page)

“And, so I ask you all to raise your glasses and join me in congratulating the happiest married couple I know: Susan and Jed Henshaw.”

Susan clinked glasses with Jed and Jerry, then sipped. There was a happy buzz in the room until someone cried out loudly.

“Oh, my God, I’ve been poisoned!”

THREE

^“
JUST KIDDING.” DOUGLAS MARKS DIDN’T SPEAK LOUDLY, but his words were easy to hear in the now silent room.

Susan, who had gasped along with most of her guests, found herself speechless.

Fortunately, Jerry had no such affliction. “Good joke, Doug,” he called out. “Now back to that toast. To Susan and Jed—a couple who deserves more than one toast if anyone does.”

“Jed and Susan. Jed and Susan.”

Susan knew she didn’t imagine the relief in her guests’ voices now that things were back on schedule. She could have killed Doug Marks all by herself—she might just do that, in fact—but now it was time for dinner, and she was the hostess. “There’s a buffet laid out right down those stairs.” She pointed as she spoke. “And the band will be starting up in about an hour for anyone who is interested in dancing. And—”

“And have a good time and thanks for coming, everyone. Now I don’t know about the etiquette in these things, but I think my good wife and I should get our dinner first. After all, we’ve been standing in the lobby greeting everyone while you all sucked up the best appetizers.” Jed pulled Susan away as their guests chuckled at his words. She smiled vaguely and followed him to the food.

Kathleen grabbed her arm as they passed by. “The Markses are leaving. I was standing right behind them when Doug made that stupid joke, and I heard Ashley say that she just ‘couldn’t take any more.’ ”

“
She
couldn’t take any more. . . .”

“I know, Susan, and I can imagine how you feel; but they are leaving. This is a great party. Don’t let one stupid joke ruin it for you or your guests.”

“You’re right. But when I get home tomorrow night the first thing I’m going to do is order a big fence put up between the Markses’ house and ours.”

“I’m the new head of the zoning board, and I’ll make sure your request for a variance is approved immediately,” one of Susan’s friends offered as she walked by.

“See, these are your friends. They all want you and Jed to have a sensational party,” Kathleen reminded her.

“I know. And you know what? We really did miss most of the appetizers; I’m starving.”

“Then let’s fill those plates, find the perfect table, and dig in,” Jed suggested enthusiastically.

“Good idea,” Jerry agreed.

“I married a genius,” Susan said.

“And I married the most beautiful woman in this room.”

Susan, deciding that this wasn’t the time to comment on Jed’s ability to lie convincingly, accepted the large dinner plate she was offered by an attentive waiter.

Filling that plate with fabulous food kept her busy for the next ten minutes, and by the time the two couples were seated at a table with room for both of Susan’s parents as well as Jed’s mother and her date, the atmosphere in the inn had regained its festive air.

“Nothing like an unlimited amount of champagne,” Susan’s father said, draining his flute.

“Well, I can’t imagine what that awful man was thinking. Imagine making a joke like that,” Susan’s mother said, shaking her head at a waiter standing behind her husband with an open bottle, ready to refill his glass.

“The man is an idiot,” Susan’s father said shortly, looking back over his shoulder and countermanding his wife’s orders. “Someone said he and that murdering wife of his had left the party. I sure hope that’s true.” He took a sip from his newly filled flute.

“Well, I must agree with
that
,” Susan’s mother admitted.

Kathleen jumped into the conversation. “I love your suit.”

Kathleen had volunteered to make sure Susan’s parents had a nice time at the party, and Susan knew that she could depend on her to do just that. She turned her attention to Claire’s date. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Susan said, realizing as the words came out of her mouth that her statement was not true. How could she have forgotten.

“Kernel Jack. At your service, Mrs. Henshaw.” The grin on Jack Stokes’s face probably meant he was enjoying this lapse in Susan’s memory.

“Of course. Just one of those . . . uh, senior moments,” she stammered, reaching for her glass. How could she ever have forgotten this man? A self-made multimillionaire, Jack had started out in corn—“just spell
Kernel
with a
K
, you sweet thing”—moved into real estate, and ended up in oil. He had told the story at least three times during dinner last Thanksgiving. Susan had fled into the kitchen, preferring cleaning up to listening to this bore. “It’s nice to see you again. And such a . . . a surprise.”

“You didn’t think I’d forget your kind invitation last November now, did you?”

“My invitation?”

“Yes, Susan,” Claire said. “You remember how we were all talking after dinner, and you said you had talked Jed into agreeing to give this party. And when Jack said he’d never known anyone married for thirty years . . .”

“To the same person, Claire honey. I said I’d never known anyone married to the same person for thirty years. I’ve known people to be married for forever, but not to the same person. Most of my friends are more interested in . . . ah . . . variety.”

“When Jack was talking about that you . . . or Jed . . . said he must come to your party next summer. Don’t you remember?”

It was a party, so Susan didn’t blurt out the truth: that any invitation to this man would have been issued out of politeness, not from any true desire to have him here tonight—and any semisensitive person would have realized that. And she certainly had not sent him an invitation. But she had excellent manners. “I’m just glad you could make it.” She smiled at Kernel Jack.

“Wouldn’t have missed your party for the world.”

“I thought you were here to see me,” Claire jumped in.

“Why, honey, I’m not here just to see you. I’m courting. Never go to a wedding or an anniversary party with someone you’re not courting. That’s my motto.”

Susan looked up from her foie gras, noted the embarrassed expression on Claire’s face, and smiled. Could her strong-willed, independent mother-in-law have met her match here? She started to speak when a familiar arm slipped around her shoulder.

“Great party, Mom! I haven’t seen most of these people since my wedding.”

Susan smiled up at her daughter. Chrissy, always a gorgeous young woman, was glowing. “You could come home more often, you know.”

“I know, but I’m so busy at the gallery six days a week, and I don’t want to miss my evening classes. And Stephen studies all the time. He thinks he’ll be able to get his MBA a semester early. He’s already getting job offers.”

“Chrissy, that’s wonderful! Are any of them in New York?”

Her daughter laughed. “Oh, Mother. You never give up, do you? We’ll talk tomorrow. I have lots of news.” And, gracefully, Chrissy floated away, waving to an acquaintance somewhere else in the room.

Susan looked over at her husband. “Has anyone seen Chad?”

“Yes, he was standing by the bar set up on the deck. I don’t think he was as interested in the alcohol as in the attractive young woman tending bar,” Jed added quickly.

“Ah, to be young and single,” Jerry said. “Susan, this food is sensational. How come you never told us about this place?”

“To tell the truth, we hadn’t been here for thirty years. I don’t know why,” Jed answered for his wife.

“I suppose we spend so much time at the Hancock Inn that we don’t search out other inns.” Susan turned to her husband. “Did you see Charles during the toast?” she asked, referring to the owner of the Hancock Inn.

“Yes, he looked like he was having a sensational time. He’s with one of the best-looking women in the room.”

“She’s beautiful. I didn’t catch her name when he introduced us, but she looks familiar.”

“She works for him. She’s probably served us a hundred times and we didn’t even notice her.”

“Just shows what a low-cut dress will do for you.”

“Guess so. Uh-oh, it looks like Constance Twigg is heading over here. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

But Constance had a smile on her face. “Mr. and Mrs. Henshaw, I don’t mean to interrupt your evening, but I wanted to make absolutely sure everything is to your satisfaction.”

“Everything is a lot better than satisfactory,” Jed answered. “Everything is wonderful. I don’t know about our guests, but I’m having a sensational time.”

“A man should enjoy his second honeymoon,” Constance Twigg said and then blushed.

From behind her came a twitter. Alvena peered around her sister, eyebrows raised above pale blue eyes, a blush on her wrinkled face. “Oh, Constance, the things you say.”

Constance stood up even straighter. “Don’t be silly, Alvena. I was speaking of the party, of course.”

Jed stood up and took the situation in hand. “In fact, I’m having a wonderful time. The food is delicious, and the inn is beautiful.”

“Oh, well then you can just write that very thing on our guest satisfaction survey. You’ll find a copy in your room. We do depend on our guests to help us improve our service. And we love getting compliments,” Alvena said, smiling happily.

“But I’m afraid we can’t take all the credit for this party. Your wife picked out the menu and the decorations,” Constance said.

“But you hired the chef and, of course, dear Mother designed the deck,” Alvena said.

“Your mother designed this?” Susan asked. “I wondered who was responsible. It’s just fabulous—all the different levels. And it’s fantastic that it was built around the trees.”

“Dear Mother loved trees,” Alvena said quietly. “She used to take us for long walks in the woods around here and . . .”

“The Henshaws are not interested in tales of our quaint childhood,” Constance interrupted. “And if you don’t have anything else to say . . .”

“I do,” Alvena insisted. “I’m here to ask the Henshaws what they would like us to do with their gifts.”

“Oh, just put them in our room. I don’t think we should open them in front of our guests,” Susan answered.

“Good idea,” Jed said. “We’ll open them later. I was wondering what we were going to do after our guests left.”

Alvena squealed and scurried off.

“She’s turned into such a foolish old woman. Suppose it’s because she never married,” Constance said, watching her sister’s back. Then she turned toward Jed and Susan. “I’d better check on the desserts. If you need me for anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Susan said. After the sisters had gone, she turned to her husband. “You knew that would embarrass her!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“I thought your invitation specifically said no gifts.” Susan’s mother was working hard to ignore any sexual undercurrent to the conversation.

“Yes, but you know how people are,” Claire said.

“I hope you don’t mind gifts. Kath shopped for weeks to pick out ours,” Jerry said, wiping his mouth.

“And it’s waiting at your house,” Kathleen added. “I didn’t want you to worry about getting it home.”

“To say nothing of us worrying about getting it here,” Jerry said.

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“I did notice a few people carrying packages,” Jed said.

“More than a few. Those nutty old women . . .”

“They’re not nutty old women. They’re the owners of the inn,” Susan’s mother corrected her father.

“That doesn’t make them less nutty or less old. Anyway, I saw them earlier piling up the gifts in the TV room. That was hours ago, before all these people arrived, and it was quite a pile already.”

“Perhaps Jerry and Kath can take some home for us,” Jed suggested.

“Oh, there probably won’t be that many,” Susan’s mother said.

“Besides, if Kathleen and Jerry take them home, what will we have to do once the party’s over?” Susan asked, looking over at her husband and smiling.

FOUR

BUT BY THE TIME SUSAN AND JED HAD SAID GOOD-BYE TO the last of their guests, tipped the staff, and reassured the Twigg sisters that everything truly had been wonderful, they were so exhausted that they could barely make it up the stairs.

“I have the key here somewhere.” Jed reached in his pocket.

“It was a wonderful party, wasn’t it? I had a wonderful time. I think everyone had a wonderful time.” Susan’s statement ended in a yawn.

“And now you’re going to get a wonderful night’s sleep.” Jed turned the key and pushed open the door. “But not in this room.”

“What do you mean?” Susan peered through the doorway. “I don’t believe it.”

“I saw some people arrive with gifts, but I had no idea there would be this many,” Jed said. The room was filled with beautifully wrapped presents. Pastel-covered squares and rectangles stood on the dresser and filled the wing chair by the window. What looked like a canoe paddle leaned precariously against the wall. Their queen-size bed was piled high with wrapped gifts. “What are you doing?” he asked his wife, who had preceded him into their room.

“I just thought I’d open one or two.” Susan picked up a tiny, silver box bound with narrow, embroidered silk ribbon. “This is from Dan and Martha. You don’t suppose it’s from Arizona—maybe something from one of those fabulous art galleries Martha is always writing about.” She tugged on the ribbon.

“Susan, it’s late. You can start opening gifts if you want, but I’m going to see about another room.”

“Another room! But this is our room, Jed. Besides, the inn is completely booked. Unless you can convince one of our friends to share a room, this is where we’re spending the night.” She yawned again.

Jed smiled at his wife. “You’re exhausted. I saw you packing your favorite bath oil. Why don’t you take a bath, and I’ll move things around so we can sleep?”

“You don’t think you’ll need my help?”

“I know you around wrapped presents. You’ll be shaking and guessing what’s inside until you convince me to help you spend the night opening them. You take a bath. I’ll move this stuff. It’s the only way we’ll get any sleep tonight.”