Authors: Mariah Stewart
“That’s nice of you.” He gave Vanessa the once-over.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around …” Stef said as she went to her car.
“Right. I hope so.” He smiled at Vanessa as he walked on.
“Ness, I’ll meet you at your place,” Steffie said under her breath, as if afraid of being overheard.
“Are you all right? You look rattled.” Vanessa looked after the departing figure. “Who was that guy?”
“Tourist. He’s been in Scoop a couple of times this week.”
“Has he been, like, stalking you?”
“No.”
“Then why’d you lie? Why’d you tell him this wasn’t your house?”
“I don’t know. It just came out.”
“Do you want me to say something to Beck? Because he can—”
“No, no. The guy just startled me. He was sort of just there when we came out of the house. I overreacted. He really seems like a nice guy.” Steffie slammed the back car door and opened the driver’s side. “I’ll follow you to your place.”
“Okay.”
They decided to forgo the sleeping bags in favor of the sofa.
“Grady said we could use a couple of his sleeping bags, but they smell like pine and, I don’t know, bears, maybe, to me.” Vanessa stood in the living room in her bare feet. “Which end would you like?”
“Either is fine.”
“You’re the guest, so you get to choose,” Ness told her.
“In that case, I choose the end closest to the fireplace.”
“Good choice.” Vanessa plopped her pillow on the opposite end of the sofa and curled up. There was a big bowl of popcorn drizzled with melted chocolate on the coffee table and two wineglasses. “So what about that guy freaked you out?”
“Greg?” Steffie shrugged. “He didn’t freak me out. Like I said, it was just that he sort of popped out of the darkness. It was just sort of creepy.”
“He was awfully cute, though. Maybe the universe sent him, you know, in response to my …” Vanessa pondered.
“Stop it. This is going to be a woo-woo-free night.” Steffie reached for a handful of popcorn.
“Boring,” Vanessa told her. “Besides, if you believe, as I do, that everything happens for a reason, you’d know that the universe brings you what you need.”
“True enough there. Hence, popcorn and wine.”
“He—Greg—is here for a reason, Stef.”
“Right. It’s called vacation. Now pass the bowl over and slip one of those movies in so we can get the crap scared out of ourselves.”
“I want ice cream first.”
“Of course you do, my little thirteen-year-old friend.” Steffie got up and patted Vanessa on the head. “I’ll get it.”
A few minutes later, when Stef returned with two bowls, Vanessa asked, “What kind to start with?”
“The butter brickle. I thought we’d save the s’mores for when we have—ha-ha—s’mores.”
“I do like the way you think.” Vanessa held up a hand and Steffie placed a bowl in it as she walked past. “Oh, hey, I almost forgot. I found Alice’s diary.” She leaned over and grabbed a leather-bound volume the size of a paperback book from the table. “I called Miss Grace to let her know I had it and I was going to give it to her, but she got talking about her daughter and the diary got lost in the shuffle.”
“What about Lucy? Is she all right? Last I heard, she was an event planner in California.”
“She still is. Miss Grace was just saying how she doesn’t understand why Lucy won’t come back to St. Dennis and do the event thing at the inn, because they’ve lined up some heavy-hitter weddings and Daniel doesn’t have anyone who he thinks can handle them. She said Lucy gets testy whenever she brings it up.” Vanessa placed a throw pillow behind her back and leaned against it. “I told her maybe it was just, you know, the normal mother-daughter thing that everyone goes through.”
“I didn’t. I’ve always gotten along with my mother. And Lucy’s what, thirty-five now? You’d think she’d be over whatever issues she might have had with her mother by now.”
“I don’t know her, so I can’t say. But anyway, I forgot to give Miss Grace the diary, which is why I still have it.”
“So what’s with the diary?”
“It seems Alice had a lover. Listen to this: ‘He came to me again last night. I cannot put into words the love I have for him and the joy he brings me. But even
that great love fails me when I try to imagine myself joining him out in the world as he begs me to. The thought of leaving my own walls terrifies me to my soul. I would do anything—anything—to be released from this fear that grips my soul and my mind. What dark forces have inflicted this evil on me?’ ”
Vanessa looked up. “Alice was agoraphobic; you know that, right?”
Stef nodded. “What’s the date on that entry?”
“April 1934.”
“I wonder if people understood agoraphobia then? Did they even have a name for it in 1934?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it sound as if she thinks she’s under some sort of spell?”
“I think you’re under some sort of spell.”
“Seriously. ‘I would do anything to be released from this fear.’ ‘What dark forces have inflicted this evil on me?’ Doesn’t that sound like someone who thinks she’s been cursed?”
“Maybe.” Steffie thought it over. “If she did, maybe that’s why she started studying … oh, listen to me. I’m starting to sound like you.”
“Think for a minute. If you don’t know what agoraphobia is, and you’re afflicted with it, how would you explain it, even to yourself?”
“That’s a reasonable question.”
“Why, thank you,” Vanessa said drily.
“It would be interesting to know when Alice first started to be fearful of leaving her house.” Stef ignored the sarcasm. “Was this the only diary you found?”
Vanessa nodded. “But there could be more. There
are so many trunks in that attic, Stef. I’ve gone through maybe half of them, but there are more.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Miss Grace if she remembers how old Alice was when she stopped going outside.”
“I’ll try to remember to take this”—Vanessa held up the diary—“to the shop tomorrow.”
“Well, give it here. Daniel’s making copies of some of the pictures that Miss Grace took at the party. She said she’d drop them off in the morning.”
“It’ll be interesting to see what she has to say about Alice’s mystery lover.” Vanessa passed over the diary and Steffie dropped it into her bag.
“It may not have been a mystery to Miss Grace.”
“True enough,” Vanessa agreed.
“So how should we scare ourselves silly?” Stef pointed to the stack of DVDs.
“Let’s do the scariest one first and get it out of the way.”
“Which one would that be? They’re all pretty scary. Do we want to be up all night, too terrified to sleep? Or do we want to be able to get into our respective shops on time tomorrow?”
“Hmm. Good question. One I hadn’t thought through. Usually scary movies are okay during the week when Grady’s here, which is generally the only time I watch them.” Vanessa pondered their dilemma. “He won’t be back until tomorrow, though.”
“Wade either.”
Vanessa’s head swiveled in Stef’s direction. “Wade’s coming home tomorrow?” Vanessa’s foot gave Stef’s thigh a punch. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Stef shrugged. “I’m trying not to make too much of it. He’s coming back to pick up all his stuff.”
“What did he say about the job?”
“The job’s perfect, the child care is perfect, and the house he found is perfect.”
“Oh, well,
damn.
” Vanessa frowned. “Well, we can skip the scary for a minute and we’ll just make a fire and snack and drink. You decide.” She got up and searched the mantel. “Grady laid the fire before he left so that all we had to do was light it.”
“Grady’s a hell of a guy.” Steffie looked through the stack of movies and settled on
Ghostbusters
.
“Isn’t he? I don’t think I ever loved anyone in my life the way I love him, you know?”
“I do.” Steffie hugged her pillow to her chest and watched Ness start the fire. “I think I do …”
“Is the L-word rattling around in your brain?” Vanessa stopped and turned around to stare at Stef.
Stef nodded. “I’m beginning to fear it might be so.”
“Wow. Just … wow.”
“Yeah.” Stef nodded and reached for the champagne bottle to open it. “Wow.”
“Did you tell him that while you were … you know, the other night?”
“Are you crazy? You don’t tell a guy who’s leaving town that you’re in love with him. It’s against the rules. Everyone knows that.”
“So you’re just going to let him go off and make a life for himself someplace else, without you?” With the fire going, Vanessa returned to the sofa and plopped down. “Without telling him?”
Stef nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice.”
“I’ll bet a guy made up that rule.” Vanessa studied a fingernail. “So what are you going to do?”
“Well, you have a fire going, so I’m going to make s’mores.” Stef handed the bottle to Vanessa and went into the kitchen. “And then I’m going to get drunk on champagne and watch
Ghostbusters
till I pass out.”
“I like it.” Vanessa nodded and filled both glasses with champagne. “Count me in.”
“My, but don’t we look a tad ragged this morning.” Tina studied Steffie’s eyes.
“Stop shouting.” Stef opened the refrigerator in the back room. “No Pepsi. Tina, if you’d run up to Sips and get me a very large Pepsi—lots of ice—it would save your job.”
“How do you figure?”
“This headache is going to kill me. Without me, there is no Scoop. No Scoop, no job for Tina.”
“You told Claire she could have it if you died. She’s my sister. She’ll have to hire me.”
Steffie gave her a withering look.
“Okay. One very large Pepsi, lots of ice.”
“Run like the wind, T.”
“I’m on it.” Tina put on her jacket. “By the way, what were you drinking?”
“Champagne. It looked so benign in those pretty girly glasses that Vanessa has, you know?”
Tina laughed and left the shop, Steffie calling after her, “Hurry back.”
Steffie couldn’t remember the last time she flat-out did not feel like making ice cream. She checked the freezer and thought maybe she had enough to hold her over till tomorrow. She felt like absolute death, but Vanessa had had her sleepover, and truth be told, a headache was a small price to pay to have heard her
friend say, “I don’t feel at all bad about not having been invited to any sleepovers when I was a kid, because no one I knew back then was as much fun as you are.”
“Nicest thing anyone ever said to me,” Stef muttered, and looked out the front window.
A few sailboats had braved the morning’s chill to head into the Bay, and they skipped briskly across the water. The sun erupting from behind the clouds all but blinded her, and she fumbled in her bag for her sunglasses. She was still wearing the shades when Tina returned.
“Thank you. You may have saved my life.” Stef reached for the paper container and took a long drink.
“Better?” an amused Tina asked.
“It will be,” Stef told her. “Give it time.”
By eleven, Stef felt almost normal, and since they’d served exactly one person all morning, she told Tina she could take the afternoon off if she wanted.
“Normally I’d stay,” Tina told her as she gathered her things, “but I do have a few errands I’d like to run, so I’m just going to say thank you as I head out.”
“Enjoy the afternoon.”
The shop was very quiet with Tina gone and no customers and not even the sound of an ice-cream maker running in the back room. Stef was thinking maybe she’d make something after all when she remembered Alice Ridgeway’s diary. She took it out of her bag and flipped through it as she searched for Grace’s phone number on her cell. Something fell from the back of the book and landed on the table. Stef put the phone down and carefully picked up the
dried bit of vegetation. Once upon a time, it had been some sort of flower. She stared at it for a long moment, then realized what it was, and what it meant.
Son of a gun.
She was just about to call Vanessa to tell her what she found—and what it meant—when the bell over the door rang. She turned just as a small voice called, “Steppie!”
“Why, Austin MacGregor, is that you?”
“Austin.” He nodded, then pointed to Wade. “Daddy.”
“Hello, Austin.” She smiled. “Hello, Austin’s daddy. That must have been one heck of an early flight.”
“It was. Crack of dawn. We came right here from the airport. Austin couldn’t wait to see you.” He ran one hand up her arm. “And neither could I.”
“I’m glad.” She forced the words out, not totally sure how they’d be received, but Vanessa was right. She needed to speak her mind. “I missed you, Wade.”
“I missed you, too.”
“Eem!” Austin stood on his tiptoes and tried to peer into the case. “Steppie, eem.”
“What kind would you like?” She picked him up so he could see into the cooler, and couldn’t resist smoothing down his dark curls.
“That.” He pointed to the chocolate.
“Chocolate it is.” She carried him to a table, one hand snagging a child’s seat. “Let’s sit you down here with your daddy and I’ll get your ice cream.”
“Yay!” Austin clapped his hands.
Wade settled Austin into his chair, then took the seat next to him.
“Wade, do you want something while I’m back here?” she called to him.
“I’m good for now.”
Stef brought Austin his ice cream, a spoon, and a pile of napkins, which she handed over to Wade. “Just in case.”
“Do you have time to sit with us for a few minutes?” Wade asked.
“Sure.” She pulled out the chair next to Wade. “We’re really slow today.”
“I guess you saw the photos from last weekend,” he said.
Stef nodded. “I couldn’t believe all the newspapers and magazines and TV pieces that were done on that party. Though I must say, I’m happy the photographers got my best side.”
“You have no bad side.” He reached for her hand and covered it with his own.
“Now, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were coming on to me.”
“I am coming on to you.”
“Too bad you couldn’t have brought Angela back with you.” Stef ran a finger up the side of his face and he caught it with his hand.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his eyes watching hers.
“Painting. Feel free to join in.”