The Mill River Redemption (21 page)

She started to say something else, but Alex suddenly crossed the sidewalk and bent over to examine the lawn between their houses. He reached out and grabbed a feather that had been sticking out in the grass. It was long and blue, with black stripes and a white patch at the end. Alex held it up and twisted it back and forth, watching the sunshine play off the surface.

“Looks like a blue jay lost a tail feather,” Emily said. “There’s lots of them around here. I hear them squabbling in the morning. They bully most of the other birds.”

“I love birds,” Alex said, still staring at the feather. “There are quite a few kinds in the city, but they’re hard to spot, other than pigeons.”

“There’s everything here,” Emily said. “Cardinals, blue jays, grackles, sparrows, woodpeckers. What about in Central Park? I’ll bet you can see tons there. I think I read a while back that falcons had moved into Manhattan, too.”

“Yes,” Alex said. “There are sixteen nesting pairs right now. They eat pigeons and other birds. Did you know they can fly more than two hundred miles an hour when they’re hunting?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s amazing,” Emily said. “I feel sorry for the pigeons, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Alex agreed. “I wish I could go to the park more, but Mom says all the trees and plants bother her allergies. Plus, she doesn’t like birds much.”

“Or dogs,” Emily added. “But, hey, now that you’re here for the summer, you can see all sorts of birds in the yard.” She frowned as she watched her nephew and his fascination with the feather. It was obvious that, despite having been born into a world of privilege, Alex had lived an incredibly sheltered life. “A little sunshine would do you good. You should kick off those shoes and go barefoot, at least on the grass. That’s not something you get to do much in the city, is it?”

“I’ve never walked on grass barefoot.” Alex was staring at his new-looking sneakers.

From the look of those shoes, he doesn’t walk outside much at all
, Emily thought.

“Alex?” Rose yelled. She emerged a moment later wearing a miniskirt, heels, and the usual large, round sunglasses. A shiny leather handbag was looped over her shoulder.

“I’m over here, Mom,” he said, backpedaling to her car. “I’m all ready to go, just waiting for you.” Emily noticed that the blue feather he had been holding lay in the middle of the sidewalk.

“All right,” Rose said as she came down the front steps. Emily watched her every movement, searching for any indication that she might be intoxicated. Her sister unlocked the doors so Alex could climb in, but instead of going to the driver’s side door herself, Rose came around to the back of the BMW and leaned against the trunk.

Emily couldn’t see her sister’s eyes through the sunglasses, but there was no missing the curl of Rose’s upper lip or the haughty, raised chin. Emily focused on lowering her car back down so that she could tighten the lug nuts.

“Alex told me this morning that he’s almost finished going through the books. I could meet tomorrow to go over our lists again, if you’d like.”

Emily glanced up at her sister. “Sure.” She stood up under the pretense of repositioning the wrench, but as she moved slightly closer to Rose, she took in several deep breaths through her nose. With Alex already in the backseat of the BMW, it reassured her that the only scent emanating from her sister was a heavy perfume. She knelt down again and tried to concentrate on the tire.

Still hesitating before getting in her car, Rose gave an exaggerated sigh. “Now, that flat’s just a shame. I guess you never know what sorts of problems an older car might have,” she said in a light, taunting voice. Emily glanced up in time to see Rose run a perfectly
manicured finger over the gleaming surface of the black BMW and check it for dust.

“Even a new car is only as good as its driver,” Emily blurted out.

Rose turned and glared at her. “I’m a perfectly good driver—”

“—when you’re sober.” Emily finished for her, with her gaze focused on the spare tire.

“I would
never
drive if I’d had anything to drink, especially with my son in the car.” Rose’s voice was little more than a hiss. Emily looked up and saw Rose’s nostrils flaring.

“Well, then, maybe I was wrong about what I said. About how nothing’s changed.” Emily looked evenly at Rose’s dark sunglasses. Her sister stood silently for a few seconds, working her jaw as if she were thinking of what she could say, before getting into her car and slamming the door.

Even after the BMW had pulled away and turned the corner, Emily was still so angry she was shaking. She grabbed the tire she’d removed from her car and hurled it as hard as she could onto her lawn. The rubber made a muted
thwup
as it hit the grass. Emily wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm and leaned against the hood of her car.

“You okay, honey?” a voice called to her from across the street. Emily stood up straight and turned to see Ivy leaning on her cane on the porch of The Bookstop. She exhaled slowly and waved.

“I’m fine,” she said when she’d reached her great-aunt. Ivy held out her free arm for a hug, but Emily only took her hand and pecked her on the cheek. “You don’t want to squeeze me right now. I’m sweaty and gross.”

“Fair enough. What were you doing over there with that tire?” Ivy asked.

“Changing it,” she said. “It was flat when I got up this morning.”

“So, you threw the tire to punish it for going flat?”

“No, I was just blowing off steam,” Emily said. “Rose saw me and offered some helpful comments as I was finishing up.”

“Oh.”

“She and Alex were headed out. She didn’t look like she’d been drinking,” Emily said, easily anticipating Ivy’s next questions. She hoped that her tone made it clear she didn’t want to go into what happened.

“Well, that’s good, at least,” Ivy said as she sat down in the porch swing. “I guess you two didn’t make any more progress on your mother’s clues?”

“No, but I think we’ll meet again soon, and I was able to talk with Alex alone before Rose came outside. The poor kid’s doing what she should be doing, and he’s so eager to help. Rose doesn’t want him interacting with me, but I’m going to try to figure out ways around that.”

Ivy nodded. “Might be a good way for you to keep tabs on him, and Rose.”

“Exactly.” She sighed and looked across the street at her car. “Where should I go to have a flat repaired? I’ve got to work this afternoon, so I need to see if it can be patched this morning.”

“Take it over to Russell’s, just off Route 103. It’s about the only place to go outside Rutland, but they do honest work. They could probably help with your bumper and anything else you wanted fixed, too. Ask for Bob Russell, the owner. I’ve known him a long time. He’ll treat you right.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aunt Ivy.”

“Don’t mention it, honey,” Ivy said. She kicked off her sandals to reveal hot-pink polish on her toenails as Emily turned to go back across the street.

When she was upset or angry, talking with Ivy, or even just being around her for a few minutes, always made Emily feel better. After she retrieved the tire from her yard and loaded it into the
back of her car, Emily picked up the blue feather from the sidewalk and put it in her back pocket. She would give it to Alex when they met later.

Russell’s Auto Repair was easy to find. Emily pulled into the parking lot carefully and rolled the flat tire up to the door of the office. An older man wearing greasy coveralls and a faded baseball cap leaned on the counter reading a wrinkled copy of the
Rutland Herald
. He looked up as she entered.

“Howdy, miss,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’ve got a flat tire, unfortunately,” Emily said. “I’m not sure what caused it. Are you Bob Russell?”

“I am.”

“Oh, good. My name’s Emily DiSanti. My aunt Ivy Collard recommended I come see you about it.”

“Ivy’s your aunt, is she? How’s she doing? I haven’t talked with her in quite a while.”

“She’s my great-aunt, actually, but she’s doing fine. Same as always,” Emily said as he followed her back outside and grabbed the tire. It was a relief that Bob didn’t mention anything about her mother’s death. She followed him as he rolled the tire along, leading her from the door of the office around to an adjoining work bay. He gave a loud grunt as he hoisted the flat onto a low workbench next to a large tub of water.

“Let’s see if we can spot the problem,” he said, switching on a bright floodlight over the tire. “If we can’t, I’ll blow it up and give ’er a dunk in the tub.” Bob moved the tire around carefully under the light for a few minutes and then looked up at her. “Bad news, I’m afraid,” he said. He pointed to the edge of the sidewall of the tire, near where it joined the shoulder. “Your tire was slashed. See here?” Emily squinted down and saw a thin, clean cut a little under an inch long.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” Bob said. “If it’d been in the tread, I wouldn’t be able to say for sure, but there’s no way anything you ran over would’ve punctured it there, on the side. No, it was probably some teenaged hooligan and his trusty pocketknife.”

Or a thirty-something hooligan with a taste for designer clothes and Bacardi Gold
, Emily thought. Struggling to hide her rage, she muttered, “And since the cut’s in the sidewall, it can’t be repaired.” Bob looked at her with surprise. “That’s right. The pressure’s so high there that you’d be risking a blowout if the patch didn’t hold. It’s interesting that you know that already, though. Most ladies don’t.”

“I know just enough to be dangerous,” Emily said with a resigned smile. “I guess I’ll have to replace it, along with the other front one. How much would that be?”

“Come back to the office with me, and I’ll check for you. Just need to look up the different brands that’ll fit, and you can decide which kind you want.” They returned to the office, where Bob began typing on an old computer that sat on the far end of the counter.

“By the way,” Emily said, “I’d like to keep one of my old tires. I was thinking I’d make a swing out of it for my nephew.”

“Um-hmm. You know, I wouldn’t use a radial for a swing,” Bob said as he continued to type. “The steel wires could come loose and hurt a kid. But, I’ve got some old nylon tires in the back. You’re welcome to swap one of yours for one of those, and if you do, you’d have to pay the disposal fee for only one tire.”

“That’d be great,” Emily said. “And thanks for the tip about the wires.”

She leaned against the counter. Bob’s hands were large and dirty, and his fingers with black grease caked under the nails seemed out of place as they slowly negotiated the keyboard. She was struck by how they contrasted with her sister’s perfect red manicured
nails. The contrast highlighted exactly what was wrong with Rose, what had always been her biggest problem.

Her sister was obsessed with appearances—how she looked, what she wore, what she drove—to the detriment of internal qualities that were truly important. She’d never been able to acknowledge her faults, and from what little Emily had seen this summer, Rose had gotten worse as time had passed. She was like a helium balloon that had been released into the sky. At some point, her shiny exterior would be stretched to a point at which she would no longer be able to contain what was inside.

Emily couldn’t prove Rose had been the one who slashed her tire, but she could think of no other person who would do such a thing, especially since Rose’s own car, parked just ahead of hers, hadn’t been touched. She remembered her sister’s smirk as she’d been working on the tire and decided to file a police report about the incident. As she shifted her position against the counter, she slid a hand into her pocket and felt the sharp tip of the blue-jay feather there. It gave her an idea, one that prompted a small, wicked smile.

Weren’t balloons meant to be popped?

1987

O
N HER ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF SELLING THE CHALET
, Josie resigned her position with Ned’s office and began working for herself out of her home office. By October, she had enough saved to lease a small commercial space along Center Street in Rutland. It was a good location, surrounded by other businesses on one of the most picturesque streets in the city.

One gorgeous Sunday afternoon, Josie, Ivy, and the girls went to take a look at the new office. The phone lines were hooked up. All of the furniture and files were moved in and ready for the opening of business the next day. The sign above the entry read H
OME AT
L
AST
R
EALTY
, and under that, in smaller letters, “Proudly helping buyers and sellers find happiness.”

Driving back to Mill River, past the preternatural reds and oranges that filled the landscape, she silently acknowledged the passage of time. She was thankful that she could finally think about Tony without being completely crushed by her sadness, thankful for being able to keep him in her heart and help her beautiful girls grow and thrive. Time was slowly helping transform her from a grieving widow into a strong, self-sufficient single parent.

Ivy was quiet as she sat in the passenger seat, but Josie knew her aunt had been thinking about time recently, too. More than
once over the past few months, she’d commented about Josie’s relationship status.

“You know, you’ve been up here a while now. You’re smart and good-looking, and you’re still so young,” her aunt had remarked one evening. “Have you ever thought about trying to meet someone?”

“Aunt Ivy,” she’d replied with an exasperated sigh, “even if I had the interest, even if I were to find someone I wanted to date, where would I find the time to do it? I’m home less and less now, and what time I have is left for the girls.”

“You’ve got to take care of yourself, too,” Ivy replied. “I know you still love Tony, but I think you might be able love someone else now, too, if the right person came along. You could be lonely for that kind of a relationship and not even realize it. And the right somebody could offer you a lot … the girls, too.”

Josie knew her aunt was right, at least in some respects, but it still bothered her to imagine any man other than Tony as her husband or as a father figure for Rose and Emily. Yes, it was partly because she still loved Tony. She would always love Tony. But, she was also terrified of investing in a relationship. She feared what would happen if the relationship didn’t work or, even worse, there was a repeat of that awful day of the fire when she had lost the love of her life unexpectedly.