Until Dark (15 page)

“She was seven when her father died. Mostly, it was just me and her, until she married Frank. I missed her from the day she left to get married. I still miss her. She was my best friend, Lynnie was.”

“I know exactly how you feel.” Kendra touched her arm gently. “I lost my father when I was young. And my mother and I were very close.”

“And she has passed on?”

“Four years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mrs. McGovern took Kendra’s hands and folded them within her own.

“Thank you.” Kendra fought back the lump that had unexpectedly formed in her throat.

“Kendra,” Adam called from the front of the house, “I have your things here. You should probably run upstairs and change now. Gran, is the guest room all right for Kendra to use?”

“Yes, dear,” she called back to him, “it’s always ready for company.”

Kendra stood, her teacup in hand. “Thank you for the tea, Mrs. McGovern.”

“It was my pleasure, dear.”

The old woman watched approvingly as the younger woman rinsed her teacup and saucer at the sink, then set it upon the counter before leaving the room. She heard Adam’s voice in the foyer as he gave Kendra instructions on which room upstairs she could use and where the bathroom was, and she smiled to herself. Adam was the undisputed apple of her eye. It had been so very long since he’d brought a girl home, and it was time he settled down. The whole family was eager to meet her. And Kendra did seem like such a nice girl, Alice thought as she rinsed her cup and Adam’s and placed them on the counter next to Kendra’s.

The arthritis in her hip had been acting up again, and she’d decided that she’d use her cane this afternoon. Not that the hip was that bad, but as an accessory, the cane served more than one purpose. She wasn’t above seeking a sympathetic audience when she could get one, and today, for certain, she’d have all the attention she could hope for.

“Gran, I’m just going to duck into your room to change if that’s okay.” Adam peered around the door frame.

“Go right ahead, dear.” Alice nodded, then went into the dining room where she straightened a bowl of roses, killing time until she heard him open the door and step back into the hallway. She called to him to join her. She’d been hoping for a few minutes alone with him to speak her piece on an issue that she felt needed discussing.

“My, don’t you look handsome in that dark suit.” She smiled as she fussed about the knot in his tie, which, while perfect, was never too perfect that she couldn’t fuss over it all the same. “And I’m so happy that you agreed to be your father’s best man. It means a lot to him, son. He wants so badly for you to be all right with his marriage to Clare.”

“Being his best man doesn’t necessarily mean that I approve, Gran.”

“He’s your father, Adam. He doesn’t need your approval.”

“Ouch.” He smiled in spite of himself. Few people had the ability to put things into perspective the way his grandmother did.

“Tell me, son,” she leaned upon her cane, “would you feel the same way if your father was marrying someone other than Clare?”

“Maybe not. I guess it does bother me that she was friends with Mom for all those years.” He hesitated for a moment. “All those months she was around when Mom was sick . . .”

“Do you think she had an ulterior motive, then? All those times she stopped in to see your mother, you think she was just waiting for her to die so she could move into her life?”

“Gran, that’s a terrible thing to say!” Adam stared at his grandmother in disbelief.

“Well, that appears to be your implication.”

“Are you happy about this wedding?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I am or not. The only person who has to be happy is your father. I personally never cared much for Clare, but I’m not the one marrying her. If she can make your father happy, share his life in a way that matters to him, that’s what counts.”

He started to reply when he heard Kendra coming down the steps.

“We’re in here, dear,” Alice called to her before Adam could open his mouth. “In the dining room.”

She moved closer to the china cupboard, where all manner of objects were displayed.

“Now, are you a Hummel collector?” she asked Kendra.

“Hummel?” Kendra looked through the glass door of the cupboard at the rows of cherub-faced figurines, then shook her head. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, good.” Alice pretended to fan herself with one hand to show her relief. “I already promised them to Kelly, you know. But I have some lovely Depression glass that you and Adam might like.”

Alice opened the cupboard door and reached for a pale pink glass sherbet dish. Kendra, wide-eyed, turned to give Adam a questioning look, which he pretended not to notice.

“We don’t have to divvy up the McGovern heirlooms today, Gran,” Adam teased. “Besides, it’s almost three. We need to get moving along here.”

He pulled the curtain back from the window.

“The wedding guests are already arriving,” he pointed out. “I saw Mrs. Dowell and Mrs. Eberly.”

“Oh, well, then, let’s do get moving.” She closed the china cupboard door. Her step was spry as she went into the hallway in search of her handbag, with the cane, apparently forgotten, tucked under one arm. “Come along, Adam, you’ll have to help me down the steps, but I dare say I’ll be fine from there.”

The home of Kelly and Scott Lister, Adam’s sister and brother-in-law, was a short walk away, though the uneven sidewalk required a bit of care on the part of Alice McGovern and therefore the walk took a few minutes longer than it might otherwise. Adam’s sister’s bungalow was similar in design and construction to that of their grandmother’s. Today the house was decorated, from the front porch straight through to the backyard, with white and yellow streamers, white crepe paper wedding bells, and white and yellow balloons. A yellow-and-white-frosted cake sat on the dining room sideboard next to a stack of white paper plates adorned with yellow roses. Bowls and vases of yellow roses abounded.

“I take it Clare is fond of yellow,” Kendra noted.

“Apparently,” Adam said out of the corner of his mouth as they made their way through the dining room to the kitchen, where his father nervously peered through the curtain that hung on the window over the sink, giving him a clear view into the backyard.

“Adam!” his father exclaimed, putting down the water he’d been drinking from a clear plastic cup to embrace his son. “Just in time! I told Kelly you’d be here on time!”

Frank Stark was a full head shorter than his son and outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. His light brown hair had thinned over the years until he was almost bald on the top and front of his head. He wore wire-framed glasses, a crisp white shirt, and dark navy suit. Looking at him, Kendra could see Adam in twenty-five years, less the paunch.

“I was afraid you’d be too busy down there with that Super-mom Strangler to stand for your old man.”

“I’d never be too busy to stand for you, Dad.” Adam hugged his father, then leaned forward to whisper, “Er, Dad, Gran thinks I have a desk job, and actually, I think they’re calling him the Soccer Mom Strangler.”

“She thinks you . . .” Frank stepped back, frowning.

“She was worried about me getting shot, like the FBI agents do on TV sometimes, so when she asked me if I couldn’t ask for a desk job, I said sure.”

“But this new serial killer down there in the southern part of the state, you’re working on that?”

Adam nodded and accepted a hug from his sister, who greeted him with a peck on the cheek before introducing herself to Kendra.

“Wow, you are pretty. Adam didn’t exaggerate. Love that shade of lavender, it’s perfect with your hair.” Kelly nodded. “You know, the whole family’s just dying to meet you.”

“They are?” asked Kendra. “Why?”

“Oh, you know.” Kelly nudged her with an elbow. “Everyone’s curious.”

“About what?” Kendra frowned.

“Ah, I think the bride is here.” Adam tapped Kelly on the shoulder. “How ’bout if I take Gran out to the garden and seat her, and try to get everyone else seated as well?”

“Good idea. I see Father Patrick has just arrived.” Kelly paused at the back door. “Doesn’t the yard look beautiful? We planted a dozen new rosebushes just so Dad and Clare could have their rose garden wedding.”

“You did a wonderful job, sweetheart.” Adam kissed his younger sister on the temple. “The arbor looks spectacular. And the house looks great.”

“Thanks, Adam.” Kelly beamed, then snapped to. “Okay. Take Gran out. You might want to take Kendra out, too. Where’s Uncle Joe? And the kids . . . where are the kids? Alex? Melanie?”

Kelly hustled herself out the back door in search of her family.

“Gran?” Adam offered his arm. “I think they’re almost ready.”

“Well, then, Kendra, if you’d hold the door open for me, and Adam, if you’ll let me lean a bit, I think we can navigate the back steps . . . yes, that’s just fine. . . .”

When all had gathered in the garden and taken their seats on the folding chairs set up for the purpose, someone played a taped version of the traditional wedding march as Clare Tilton, in pale yellow chiffon, joined Frank Stark at the rose-covered arbor where they exchanged vows in a brief ceremony. The couple turned to greet their guests and were showered with yellow rose petals, which seemed to signal the end of the solemnity of the day.

Almost immediately, a band set up in one corner of the yard, a bar in another, and the party began.

By the end of the evening, Kendra’s head was spinning. She’d met most of the residents of Hopewell, held most of the babies under two, and fielded incessant questions about her and Adam’s nuptial plans. She wanted to strangle him.

Once she’d acknowledged that she had no family, Kendra found herself at the mercy of Adam’s aunt Jackie, Frank’s sister, who insisted on helping to plan the “wedding,” “Since your mother—God rest her soul, I’m sure—isn’t here to help.” Within minutes, Jackie was searching her handbag for a small notebook, writing up the guest list and offering suggestions for the reception to a startled Kendra.

Adam’s brother-in-law was passing out plastic flutes of champagne for a toast right about the same time that Jackie began hinting that Jessica, her three-year-old granddaughter, would make the most adorable flower girl.

“I think everyone is gathering to toast the newlyweds,” Kendra noted, infinitely grateful for the opportunity to escape Aunt Jackie and her lists.

“We’ll chat later.” Jackie patted Kendra’s back. “You’ll need to know which halls have the best caterers. . . . I’m assuming of course that the wedding will be here, since you said you have no family.”

“Everyone, quiet,” Kelly announced unceremoniously, “Adam is going to make a toast.”

“Friends, family,” Adam began, meeting his father’s eyes. His grandmother’s words played over inside his head, and he knew that she was right. Whatever brought his father happiness should be accepted for what it was, without judgment. He couldn’t change the events of the past few years, couldn’t bring his mother back, couldn’t stop his father from falling in love with another woman, regardless of when that happened. And he, Adam, didn’t have to love Clare. But he did have to respect the fact that his father did.

“We’re here to celebrate a happy occasion,” Adam said solemnly. “After all these years of chasing her, Dad finally caught up with Clare. We suspect she may have had to slow down a bit for him . . .”

Chuckles from the crowd.

“. . . but we’re glad that she did. Dad, we’re happy that you found someone to share your life with. Clare, welcome to the family.” Adam raised his glass, as did all gathered in the room. “Long life, love, and much joy.”

“Here, here . . .”

“Thank you, son,” Frank Stark said softly as the well-wishers sipped at their champagne. “I appreciate what you said . . . for Clare especially. It means a lot to me . . . and I know it means a lot to her.”

“She’s a fine lady and a welcome addition to the family.” Adam looked beyond his father to his grandmother. “Life is short. You’ve been alone long enough. Spend the rest of your life with someone who loves you. God knows you’re entitled. We all are.”

“Thank you, son,” Frank repeated as his brother, Ed, stepped forward to make another toast.

Ed’s toast was followed by one from a neighbor, then others from Frank’s cousin, Clare’s brother, and the parish priest. Before long, many of the adults were giddy with champagne and emotion and most of the small children were cranky. Kendra wandered into the house and busied herself looking at the photos that covered all but one wall in the living room. She stepped closer, her eyes going from frame to frame, following Adam’s football career through pictures, from Pop Warner to Penn State right on through the pros, like a shrine. All it lacked was a few candles in the wall sconces.

From across the room, Adam signaled to Kendra to join him on the front porch.

“By the way, what exactly did you tell these people?” Kendra asked as he opened the front door and stood aside to permit her to step onto the porch.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. They seem to think there’s going to be another wedding in the family.”

“Oh, that.” He nodded grimly. “I probably should have warned you about my aunt Jackie. She can be a bit, ummmm, domineering, at times.”

“Domineering.” Kendra pondered the word. “What a gentle way to put it.”

“Was she tough on you?”

“Naw. But I think now might be a good time to tell me exactly what you told your grandmother about me. About us.”

“Oh, well, just that I was bringing a girlfriend home to meet her.”

“How does that translate into ‘Do you like Hummels?’ and ‘What colors are you planning for the wedding?’ ”

“I guess Gran might have read a bit more into it than I’d intended.”

“The way your family is reacting, one might think you never brought a girl home before and that . . .” She paused. “When
was
the last time you brought a girl home?”

“A few years ago,” he admitted sheepishly.

“How many?”

He appeared to be calculating. “Well, I guess it must have been, oh, maybe eight, because my mother was still alive, and she had wanted us to announce our engagement to the family at Christmas.”