The Mill River Redemption (20 page)

Josie laughed. “Yes, I know you were a town crier in your previous life. Well, I got a referral today from Phil Lawson. You remember I worked with him on the landfill property? He gave my name to a couple he knows who are looking to buy a resort chalet
up in Killington, and the woman called me this afternoon. She and her husband are coming up from New York on Sunday so I can take them around.”

Ivy sat up a little straighter. “New York? Oooh! Maybe they’ll go for something expensive. You might get your biggest commission yet.”

“True, but I’d get more than that,” Josie said. “If I can sell them a property, the deal would be my eighth.” Josie’s eyes sparkled, and Ivy nodded with understanding.

“After eight transactions, you can get a broker’s license,” she said. “The fault, dear Josie, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” She stood up and stretched.

Josie’s tired brain tried and failed to make sense of Ivy’s last comment. “What? Are you talking about constellations again?”

“It’s from
Julius Caesar
,” her aunt said. Josie rolled her eyes, but Ivy ignored her expression. “Basically, it means that we, and not the stars or whatever powers that be, control our own destinies. And you’ve done just that, Josie. You’ve outworked and outsmarted Ned at every turn. One more sale, and you’ll be able to ditch him and open your own office.”

“I’ve fantasized about doing that since day one, but I never thought I’d be able to do it so soon. If I’m able to leave when my year’s up, it’ll be just as well. Ned makes money from my sales, of course, but it chews him up when people call wanting me as a listing agent and not him.”

“Anybody with half a brain can see that he’s the nitwit and you’re the star,” Ivy said as she walked to the front door to leave. “I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“Thanks, Ivy,” Josie said, kissing Ivy on the cheek before her aunt stepped outside. “And thanks for looking after the girls today.” She stood on her front porch, waiting until Ivy was safely inside her own home before quietly closing the door.

Saturday passed in a blur of laughter, monkey bars, work, and the usual weekend errands, and Sunday arrived before Josie had even caught her breath. She arrived in the shabby Circle Realty office, running mostly on adrenaline and hope, to straighten up and brew fresh coffee for her clients.

Edward and Elizabeth Stanfield arrived promptly at two o’clock, and Josie spent the rest of the afternoon showing them resort properties in the area. Edward’s Rolex watch and Gucci loafers and the fabulous diamond in Elizabeth’s wedding band set told her immediately that they were serious buyers with significant financial resources.

As was her usual practice, Josie saved the best property for last. Everything about the chalet-style home in Killington was spectacular. As she escorted the couple into the great room of the house, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and views of pristine pine forests and Killington Resort, she stepped back to hear their reactions.

“Stunning,” Edward said.

Elizabeth remained silent, but as she gazed out the enormous windows, her bright eyes reflecting the view of forest and mountain and her hand reaching out to touch Edward’s arm, Josie knew that she had sold the chalet.

Certainly, she had expected the Stanfields to fall in love with the house. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the tidal wave of emotions she experienced as she watched the couple tour the home. How many times had she dreamed about going house-hunting with Tony? About strolling through rooms, talking about square footage and furniture placement? How often had she imagined the moment when, together, they would find the perfect home? When, years later, they would have their little family tucked warmly and safely beneath the roof?

And although she had already helped several couples find new homes, what was it about
this
particular couple that had set in motion such an avalanche of sadness?

Even if Tony had survived, they never would have had the designer clothing and luxury accessories of the Stanfields. They never would have been able to afford a home like the chalet in which she now stood, fighting back tears and keeping an artificial smile plastered across her face. But something about the Stanfields reminded her of exactly how it had been with Tony.

Edward and Elizabeth were completely in tune with each other. They strolled through room after room, often communicating through facial expressions alone. They moved in sync, separately and yet strangely in rhythm. The couple never drifted too far apart, and one of them often reached out casually to touch the other. Certainly, their physical attraction to one another was palpable. And, when they looked at each other, their gaze conveyed an unending, quiet affection. The Stanfields were soul mates—perfectly matched and hopelessly in love.

Just as she and Tony had been.

It was late by the time she had finished drawing up a contract for the Stanfields to sign. Once the couple had left her office, she deposited the finished offer on Ned’s desk and went to her car. Finally alone and hidden from view in the darkness, she sobbed as she drove home, happy to have effectively freed herself from Ned’s leash but overwhelmed by a renewed grief and deeper awareness of how alone she really was.

When she slipped into her house, Ivy was up reading on the sofa, as usual. Her aunt took one look at her and immediately jumped up. “Please tell me those are happy tears,” she said. Josie forced a smile and nodded as Ivy rushed to hug her. “I knew it! Oh, you did it! The girls and I knew you would.”

“I’ve just got to focus on studying for the broker’s exam now, and once my first year with Ned is over, I’ll be able to—”

Josie caught sight of the table in her kitchen. There were balloons of every color taped around it and a lone plate covered in aluminum foil. Next to the plate stood an empty wineglass and a
bottle of sparkling grape juice. There was a card, too, a piece of folded yellow construction paper with “MOM” written in crayon on the front.

“What’s this?” Josie asked.

Ivy came up beside her and shook her head. “The girls wanted to fix you a special dinner for getting your eighth deal,” she said. “They made it themselves. Well, I supervised and helped a little, but it was mostly them. Have a look.”

Josie opened the card and read, “You can be a brokur now. Love, Rose and Emily.” Blinking back tears as she smiled, she then uncurled the foil from around the plate to reveal a large, stiff glob of macaroni and cheese, an apple cut into slices that were beginning to turn brown, and a pile of overcooked peas.

“We didn’t know you’d be home so late,” Ivy said. “I even let ’em stay up a while to wait for you, but Emily was falling asleep sitting up, so you’d better be sure and visit with ’em in the morning.”

Josie nodded, but she barely heard Ivy’s words. She reached up and touched her locket. Her babies had fixed her supper for the first time ever, and she hadn’t even been home to eat it. She gathered the pieces of apple in her hand and took the rest of the food to the microwave to heat it.

Ivy watched her with sympathetic eyes as she came back to the table with the plate, sat down, and poured herself a glass of the grape juice. Her aunt quickly took another glass from the cupboard and held it out to her, and Josie filled it as well.

“To Rose and Emily,” Josie said, holding up her glass. “The treasures of my heart.”

E
MILY WAS IN A FABULOUS MOOD WHEN SHE AND
G
US LEFT
her house and stepped into the morning air. It was just after seven o’clock, and she knew Ruth’s bakery-café would already be open and serving up rich, dark coffee. When they reached the sidewalk, though, Emily noticed that her car seemed to be resting at an odd angle along the curb.

The front right tire was completely flat.

In an instant, her buoyant mood was gone. She rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath. Gus whined and pulled on his leash, but she stood rooted to the sidewalk, reworking her morning plans. Since it was Monday, the hardware store was open, and she was scheduled to work all afternoon. She had been planning to go over her list of possible clues again beforehand, and she wanted to start cutting glass for a new design she had in mind. But now, she would have to deal with the tire before anything else.

Emily put her hair into a ponytail and let Gus out into the backyard. It took some time to move things around in the back cargo area of her car so she could access the spare tire compartment.

The wheel cover was easy to remove, but the lug nuts proved to be difficult. They were rusted solidly in place, and pulling on the tire iron with all her strength did nothing to budge them. Her next move was to give each nut a good shot of WD-40. After waiting
a few minutes for the substance to work its way through the rust and grime, she repositioned the tire iron and tried again, heaving backwards as hard as she could until she lost her footing and fell onto her rump. Frustrated and out of breath, Emily jumped up and stormed into her house. When she reemerged, she carried a Hot-Head torch, safety goggles, and a can of MAPP gas.

The damned lug nuts had met their match.

She put on the safety goggles and screwed the torch into place atop the gas canister. Rather than throw away the bits of glass left over from her projects, she’d learned how to use the torch to melt them down and form beautiful glass beads, which she could sell to bead shops or on eBay. But, a torch was useful for many things other than beadmaking.

Emily ignited the flame and positioned it on the head of one of the lug nuts. The WD-40 she’d sprayed earlier immediately started smoking, but it didn’t take long for the lubricant to burn off. After the first lug nut had been under the flame for several seconds, she turned off the torch and picked up the tire iron. This time, a gentle tug on the wrench was all she needed to spin the heated lug nut from the bolt.

She had jacked up the car and was positioning the spare on the newly exposed bolts when she heard the front door of Rose’s house open and close. Her nephew walked toward her, looking over his shoulder every few steps.

“Hey there,” she called as Alex reached Rose’s black BMW and stopped. He glanced around again and came over to where she was working.

“Hi,” he said. “Mom’s coming soon. We’re going out for breakfast, and food shopping, after that.”

“Oh.” Her first thought was to wonder whether Rose was sober and could safely drive Alex anywhere. She noticed that Alex’s posture was tense, and he seemed preoccupied with watching the front door of his house.

“That sounds like fun. Hey, are you okay?” she asked. “You look worried about something.”

Alex frowned, and she could barely hear his muttered reply. “I heard you and Mom talking yesterday. She’s not a bad mother.” His big blue eyes were filled with hurt and anger.

A lump of regret formed in Emily’s middle. “I’m sorry you overheard that,” she told him. She just looked at her nephew, trying to decide what more she should say. “As angry as I was, I shouldn’t have said that. The truth is, though, your mom does drink, and it’s not good for her, or you, that she does.”

Alex was quiet for a minute. “Dad says that drinking too much is a disease, and she can’t help it.”

“Your dad’s right about it being a disease,” Emily said. “She
can
help it, though. She just has to want to change badly enough, but that’s a tough thing for anyone to do.” She sat down in the grass and looked squarely into Alex’s eyes. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other, and you overhearing me and your mom talking probably didn’t give you a good impression of me. I’m sorry things started out with us that way.” Emily waited a moment before turning back to the spare tire. “But, Alex, if anything happens with your mom and you feel like you need help, or if you think
she
needs help, I’m here for you.”

Alex seemed to mull over her reply. “She won’t tell me why you don’t like each other,” he said next, “but she says it’s better if I stay away from you.”

Emily was disgusted with Rose and sad for Alex all at the same time. She also felt a strong instinct to do everything she could to make sure he was being cared for properly. “If your mom doesn’t want to explain it yet, it’s probably not my place to do it,” she told him. “But, we’re family. You’re my only nephew, and I think it would be really cool if you and I could get to know each other a little.”

Alex didn’t reply, but his expression was pensive as his eyes
searched her own. After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder again.

“Hey, if you think your mom will be ticked if she sees you over here with me, just go up and stand by her car. We can still talk.” She encouraged him with a mischievous grin.

Alex smiled back at her, although his eyes conveyed more relief than anything else, and he hurried up toward Rose’s car and leaned against the front passenger’s door. “What happened to your tire?”

“I have no idea.” Now that the spare was in position, Emily lifted the tire iron and began to spin the lug nuts loosely back onto the bolts. “It was flat when I came out here this morning. Might’ve been a nail or something. I’m going to take a closer look at it once I finish with the spare. How’re things going for you today? I wondered if you were okay after you went inside yesterday.”

“Oh,” he said, shrugging. “Mom always yells. I try to stay out of her way when she does, until she calms down.”

“She yelled all the time growing up, too,” Emily said. “It about drove me crazy.”

Alex didn’t respond to that comment, and she quickly changed the subject.

“Your mom told me you’re in charge of going through the books in your house, so we can figure out whether one of them is a clue Grandma left us.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. His face brightened. “I’m pretty much done. I’ve been meticulous about it.”

“Meticulous, huh? That’s great!” Emily said. She sat back on her heels beside the wheel of her car. “My list is done, too, so I guess now your mom and I need to compare them. We know our two clues are different, so we need to be able to see which you have in your house that I don’t have in mine. I think it’s the only way we can narrow down what the clues might be.”