The Traveling Tea Shop (25 page)

My eyes bulge with tears.

“Let me grab you a tissue.”

I try to hold my face steady so the tears don’t spill over. This pain feels different. It goes even deeper. Jess lost her mum too. Now we’re all we have left of her, on this planet at least.

I look out across the mountain range and feel that she’s everywhere, her love reaching as far and wide as I can see.

“Oh Mum!”

“Laurie? Are you all right?” It’s Pamela and Charles approaching with matching looks of concern.

I blink away my tears, sniff all the emotion back in as I get to my feet.

That’s when I see someone who faintly resembles Ravenna.

•   •   •

Her hair has been blown dry into sheeny, voluminous waves. She’s wearing a long-sleeved, high-necked black chiffon dress with cream lace panels, managing to look both sexy and demure.

“What do you think?” she twirls before me. “It’s the other dress I got at Anthropologie—bit
Downton Abbey
, isn’t it?”

“It’s stunning—you’re stunning!” I reach for her hands. But her attention has already wavered. She looks beyond me. “Have you seen Harvey?”

“Yes, he’s just—”

“I’m right here,” he says, discreetly palming the tissue.

I give him a little smile to know that I’m all right. And I am. It’s hard not to be buoyed up with so much happy energy surrounding me. I can feel it in every photo we pose for—the easy way arms are wrapped around the person next to us, the closeness of the huddle. It’s like a group hug every time we reconfigure.

And then the attention turns to the cakes.

Harvey keeps quiet about the part he played, and Charles, as predicted, is equally discreet.

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.” Pamela takes in the golden gleam. “You’re one-of-a-kind, Laurie.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. Do you want a taste?”

“Oh no, I trust you.”

“Is that code for ‘I don’t want to get an upset stomach before dinner?’”

“Nooo,” she laughs. “I can tell they are perfect.”

While the others get embroiled in a conversation about what this place must be like in the snow (Krista would be interested to learn that they do dogsledding here), I lean in to Pamela and whisper, “Did you tell her?”

“I did, but—”

“You did?” I gasp. “Oh, that’s wonderful! She’s obviously taken it brilliantly.”

“Mum, are you coming?”

Time for dinner.

As I watch them walking off, arms linked, I feel all the more churned up. Perhaps it is possible. If Ravenna can do it, and look so radiant on it, perhaps I can too.

I’m just getting up to leave when Harvey comes dashing back.

“Did you forget something?” I look around our chairs.

“Yes,” he says as he scoops me into his arms. “This.”

And then he kisses me. It’s full force yet dreamily tender, all pent-up passion and compassion, desire and yumminess. I feel I might faint from the rush.

“Mmm,” he smiles into my eyes, clasping me closer, intensifying the yearning. I think he’s about to lean in for more, but instead he gives me a kiss on my nose, making me giggle.

“Speakeasy at ten?”

“I’ll be there!”

I forgo the shuttle bus on my way down the hill—I want to savor this sensation of soaring and zinging, and revel in this reviving air. He kissed me! The most wonderful man I’ve ever met just kissed me! In this moment I feel utterly invincible and my heart feels
huge
. Suddenly I can’t wait to solve his accommodation issue, show him what I can achieve when I set my mind to it. But, first things first. I need to apologize to Krista.

“No you don’t,” she counters. “After I put down the phone I was thinking about the ways you’ve been like a mother to me—how you’re always interested in the minutiae of my day, always have my best interests at heart, are always cheering me on. You know I never had that with my own family, and if I lost you—”

“You won’t lose me. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just saying, I understand. And I won’t mention Jessica again.”

“Well,” I can’t help but smile. “Here’s the thing—I may have had a mini-breakthrough. Just enough for me to consider seeing her.”

“What?” she gasps. “I-I can’t believe it!”

“Neither can I.”

“You know I’ll be there with you for the whole thing, if you want?”

“Thank you. I suppose it’s time. And if it doesn’t go well, then I’m no worse off.”

“I think it’s very brave of you.”

“Well. If my two favorite people think I’m being a stubborn ass—”

“
Two
favorite?”

I smile. “I really hope Harvey comes to Vermont tomorrow so you can meet him, and tell me if he’s really as lovely as he seems to my eyes.”

And my heart, I want to add.

•   •   •

For the next hour, Krista and I get busy with the Newport situation, checking availability and finding that even the basic $60 motels have jacked their prices way up and only have the odd room available.

“I don’t like the idea of having them dotted around town,” I tut. “I need a block booking. And a big pile of cash.”

“What about some kind of fund-raising event?” Krista suggests. “Old English cakes come to New England? I’m sure you could get a bit of media coverage for that—maybe even the local TV station?”

“Mmm, Pamela is a bit camera-averse at the moment.”

“Well, she was at the start of the trip, but wouldn’t you say she’s feeling a bit brighter and more confident these days?”

“I would,” I concede. “Perhaps we could even take over the Chinese Tea Room at Marble House—she got really excited about the prospect of baking there.”

“Or maybe have an event on one of the boats—High Tea on the High Seas?”

“I love that!”

We rattle back and forth until Krista’s hunger gets the better of her. “I need to go and find a burger joint.”

“You do that. I’m going to put in a call to our secret weapon.”

Gracie.

She may be several White Ladies down but she’s still sharp as a tack.

“Leave it with me,” she says. “I think I might have an idea.”

•   •   •

When I look at the clock again, I’m surprised to see it’s already time for me to leave for the speakeasy. I’m certainly in stealth-mode as I enter the hotel, praying I don’t cross anyone’s path as I make my way there. But, just as I turn down a never-ending corridor, I see Pamela and Charles heading directly for me. There’s not a stairwell or lift to duck into, so I have to brazen it out.

“Well, good evening to you—I trust you had a lovely dinner?”

“We did,” Pamela smiles, but Charles looks fretful.

“I’ll see you back at the room,” he excuses himself.

Pamela sighs as she gazes after him. “He’s losing patience with me.”

“How so?”

“He thinks you’re right about Ravenna’s attraction to Harvey. He says it’s going to make things even harder when we tell her.”

My jaw drops. “I thought you told her at the spa?”

“I did tell her, in painstaking, loving detail. But when I finished I realized she’d slept through the whole thing.”

“What?” I despair.

“I guess she was a little too relaxed. And then she got a blow-dry and her makeup done, so there wasn’t a spare moment.”

“So what’s the plan now?”

“Everyone has just gone back to their rooms to get a sweater, then we’re reconvening on the veranda.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, we’re going to call Harvey after we’ve had the conversation. Depending on how it goes.”

I nod.

“I’m so nervous!” Pamela confesses.

I take her hand. “Look, aside from the Harvey aspect, I think she’s going to be really pleased.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. She obviously adores Charles and she’s happy to see the two of you together. Maybe there will be some confusion or embarrassment regarding Harvey, but if you give her time to come to terms with it all . . .”

Pamela nods. “I’d better not keep everyone waiting.”

“No. On you go.”

For a moment I just stand there. I can’t believe she still hasn’t done the deed! It was all too good to be true. As if Ravenna would have reacted so breezily. I don’t know what happened at dinner to make Charles so concerned, but I suppose I can ask the object of her affection myself.

I’m on the patio level now, looking for the entrance to the speakeasy. Aha! Here we are: through the brick arch and down a narrow tunnel that does indeed resemble a cave. I’m feeling my way along the rough-hewn rocks when a body barrels into me. It’s only as I stumble back and turn toward the light that I realize the body belongs to Ravenna.

“Wait!” I call after her. “What’s going on?”

“Did you know?” she turns on me.

“Know what?”

“Did you know that Harvey is my half-brother? Did you know Charles is my . . .” Her voice cracks. “Did you?”

I go to speak but nothing comes out.

“You knew!” she spits. “You knew and you let me . . .”

“Ravenna,” I step toward her, but she slashes at my outstretched arms, hurtling away into the night.

Oh god.

I feel a presence behind me—it’s Harvey, hanging back in the archway looking ashen.

“What happened?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not good.”

“Tell me.”

He slumps back against the wall, rubs his face and then begins, “I was at the bar waiting for you and this person comes up behind me and places their hands over my eyes . . .” He looks at me. “I thought it was you so I reached back and I can’t even remember what I said but when I turned around she kissed me. Just out of nowhere! I mean, I knew she’d had too much champagne at dinner, but I didn’t see that coming.”

I close my eyes. My worst fear has come to pass.

“She wouldn’t back down,” Harvey continues. “I kept trying to get her to chill, to just take a moment, but she was so insistent—”

“So you told her?”

“I didn’t even mean to. It just blurted out of me. I think it was the shock.” He hangs his head.

I sigh with frustration at how inevitable this was. I saw this coming a mile off. I should have done more to stop it.

“I don’t think I should be the one to go after her.”

“No,” I agree. “I’ll call Pamela. It’s time they talked.”

“Honestly, I don’t think she’s going to be in the mood. You should have seen her face.” His brow rucks. “What have I done?”

“This isn’t your fault,” I insist. “Everyone knows she should have been told sooner.”

“I think I’d better go and find Dad.”

“You do that.”

He hesitates. “I’m sorry. I messed up our night.”

I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. Another time. Go now.”

He nods and sprints on his way.

•   •   •

I take a few moments to consider the wreckage and then find myself instinctively dialing Krista, forcing me to get logistical.

“So, most likely scenario is that she will lock herself in her room. I don’t know if she has enough money for a taxi but, even if she did, I don’t think she’d know where to go. We’re kind of in the middle of nowhere here and it’s pitch-black out there.”

“That poor girl.”

“I know,” I sigh. “If only her mother had been paying a little more attention at the spa.”

“I don’t know,” Krista tuts. “For whatever reason, she didn’t really want to tell her. She’s put it off for twenty years, after all.”

“Is it the shame, do you think? Or what?”

“I don’t think Pamela’s good with confrontation. Some people will do anything to avoid it. Plus, I think she’s afraid of her own daughter.”

“I think you could be right. And I don’t think this is going to help ease that—she looked like a wild woman.”

Krista sighs. “I wonder . . .”

“Wonder what?”

“I’m still in St. Johnsbury, which is less than an hour from you. Would you trust me to handle this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think Ravenna is going to want to be around any of you tonight. Will you give me permission to step in?”

“You sound like the cleanup crew in
Pulp Fiction
.”

“If that’s how you want to view it.”

“I don’t know how Pamela would react . . .”

“I don’t think Pamela’s going to be in a fit state for anything, she’ll just be wailing and wracked with guilt.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And Charles needs to take care of her. So. Time is a-ticking. You decide—is it a yes or no?”

I take a breath. I trust Krista. She’s never once let me down. I don’t know how to fix this myself, but she seems to have a plan.

“Go for it,” I tell her.

“Okay. I’m on it. Just text me her room number. I’ll update you when I can.”

I send the text with trembling fingers and then walk up to the bar. “Could I please have a teacup of your hardest liquor?”

“Certainly, madam.”

“Thank you.”

Now I just have to sit back and wait.

The first call I get is from Charles, letting me know that he’s put Pamela to bed with a sleeping pill since she was threatening to camp outside Ravenna’s door until she let her in—sometime around the twelfth of never. He says he thinks it’s better to give Ravenna some breathing space. He’s written her a note, slid it under her door and it’s up to her to make the next move. No more drama. Everyone needs to stay in their own room and get some rest so we can reconvene with clear heads in the morning. I don’t know if that last comment was directed at me and Harvey, but romance is the last thing on my mind now. Well, maybe not the last, but not the most pressing.

I go to my window and look out into the night, wondering what Ravenna is doing with all that rage right now. You hear such awful things about young people these days. I hope Charles is right to give her space. Part of me would want to break her door down. Which is why I gave Krista the go-ahead. God, I wish she’d call.

I wonder if anyone has contacted Gracie? Probably not. No need to worry her at a distance when there’s nothing she can do.

I pace. I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I pace some more. I flick through the TV channels just to keep myself awake.

Three excruciating hours later, my phone rings.

“Krista?”

“I’ve got her. She’s safe. We’re at the Trapp Family Lodge.”

“Oh my god!” I feel a huge flood of relief. “How did you do it?”

“Well, you said she had a soft spot for dogs, and no one can resist Mitten.”

“You got him pawing at her door?” I know this trick from when I stayed with Krista and Jacques in Quebec.

“Yup. And then basically I offered to get her away from you lot and she jumped at the chance.”

I cringe. “So what now?”

“Just come here tomorrow as planned.”

“Well, we weren’t due to arrive until mid-afternoon, should we—”

“No. Don’t rush here. She needs as much time to herself as possible.”

“So, later?”

“No. No more switcheroos. Keep to the schedule. And bring Harvey. Unless she faces that embarrassment now, she’s never going to be able to have a normal relationship with him.”

“Is she okay? I mean, in herself?”

“No. But she will be.”

“Oh Krista!”

“Gotta go! I don’t want her knowing I’ve contacted you.”

“Okay!” I close the phone and hug it to my chest. Thank god she’s all right. Or—at the very least—in good hands. Now I just have to explain to the drama-averse Charles that my best friend has kidnapped his daughter.